hey looked to the massive rock
face on a side of the small rock hill on the island. It was new to
this island also, though no one took credit for adding it. Basicly,
a sort of limited golem, the mages had named the face “The announcer” due
to its talents for stating the obvious. Still, it was a very good
piece of work, and difficult to dispell. After it proved to be a
free guard dog, announcing “A thief has arrived!” when appropriate, they
decided to let it be.
Giggling, Woodbead and Ayeesha chased down
a sheep and cut it’s throat. They then dragged it’s body over to
the dragon which was so weak now that they had to push it in it’s mouth.
There were only two other sheep left on the island, bought from a local
herd to feed it. By the time they had got to it, the dragon was able
to snap the animal’s body up and swallow it instantly.
“Poor baby!” Ayeesha hugged it as it curled
up to sleep. It would spend the night out here, then need more food
in the morning.
Woodbead rowed his boat around the small island,
towards the stone pilliar in which the stairs to the bridge were.
As he went approached it, Ayeesha followed him on the floating bridge that
joined the small island to the pilliar. It occurred to him that perhaps
he had been a little rude.
“I’m sorry, I should have offered you a ride.
I thought you’d be longer with your dragon.”
She laughed frendily, “No problem, he’s better
now. I do need to ask to borrow your boat again.” This time,
she did appear a bit nervous, as if expecting him to get mad at her.
“I was planning to leave, but I could postpone it.” Woodbead
offered, “Do you need to go anywhere? I row better.”
“Welllll-” She trailed, so embarrased
she had lost track of how much sand and mud covered her. “It’s for
my dragon. Those three sheep are only enough to last through the
night. He’ll be hungry for more in the morning.”
Woodbead thought. “We are both a little
beat up this day and I DON’T want to go out at night, but I have an idea.”
Ayeesha smiled, and Woodbead noticed she was
holding the cut saddlebag and the sack of flowers. “If you can get
someone to send for them tonight, I will be real greatful.” She reached
into her purse and counted out some coins, then pulled a small vial of
berries from a padded pouch.
“I do pay my own way, and this is for the
sheep. Whoever gets them needs to feed them these berries, which
will make them sleep for the trip. Come see me when you get done,
I have to attend to these plants quickly.”
She rushed into the pilliar and up the spiral stairs while Woodbead
rowed around it and tied his boat to the dock. At least he did not
have to hoist it just yet.
Climbing the stairs proved a chore, as always.
He kept thinking about asking for an elevator but was too embarrassed to
make the expensive request. He then went to visit Bone-Send,
the Necromancer, who was about his best friend on that island. Also,
the man lived on the lowest level of the Isle of Mist’s Gift, down another
tall staircase, which he would have to climb up again. As this was
at
sea level, near the dragon’s room, no windows showed the outside, there
was only the green flicker of chemical torches and various musty, unpleasant
scents.
He knocked on the door, and a cracking voice
bid him to enter. Opening the door, his nose was assaulted by a slight
stench of death, and he could only see blackness with a few faint candlelights.
“Uh, Bone-” Woodbead called out quietly.
“BEAD! I knew she’d keep ya here another
day, come on in!” The cracking voice approached a human tone.
“I have won a wager of five small coins thanks to her.”
“I can’t see anything.” Woodbead protested.
“Ahhh, natural light will do that to you.
I’ve been reading up this special tome that’s blank if the light’s too
bright.”
The light in the chamber brightened, and Woodbead
saw that his friend had pulled a lever above his desk that pushed two crystals
nearer to each other. This reaction caused various crystals set in
skulls affixed to the walls lit the room with a sickly yellow light.
He saw his friend sitting at his desk, who
had turned his skinny face with a short, clean black beard to face him.
In many ways, the necromancer Bone-Send had been compared to Woodbead.
Except for their schools, they both focused with objects related to their
names. The necromancer wore similar garb, except that his robes were
black, his hat ended in a blunt point, and his sash was made of various
bones instead of carved wooden beads. He also had a staff, but this
one ended in a small skull and had bones dangling from it. Unlike
Woodbead, Bone-Send was deathly thin, and his clothing contained lots of
padding to make him appear thicker. They had had many a discussion
wishing that they had each other’s metabolism.
As the necromancer’s eyes adjusted to the light, he was startled by
how dirty and beat up his freind was.
“WOW!” he exclaimed, “I knew she’d keep
ya here, but by Thasaidon, I didne think she’d rape ya, or that she’d have
ta!”
The reference was unknown to Woodbead, for
while he came from another part of this world, his friend was from another
realm entirely. Like Woodbead, he spoke little of his origins except
to say that he had come from an island and that his branch of majick was
the rule, not the exception there.
Woodbead quickly went over what had happened,
skimming over the extent of the Dragonsbane flowers that had existed on
that plataue. His necromancer friend was even greedier for money
than he was, and he would throw a fit at hearing the scale of destruction
involved, akin to throwing away a bag of gold to get a single piece of
it. He would likely understand, however, for he loved Ayeesha’s dragon
for the corrosive ichors it drooled.
“Is the critter ok? If it can’t even
get into it’s lair now-” Bone-Send asked. “It’s a nice beast,
and it drools right into my cauldron in exchange for a spicy roast.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Woodbead said, “Someone
needs to get it more sheep tonight, and I was wondering if one of your,
uh, servants, could do the job?”
“Well, what are friends for? Also for
showing around your hometown should they drop by to crash a night, understand?”