Jayden's Luck

I was scared shitless.

There's no shame in admitting it, as far as I'm concerned. How would you have felt, moving silently through a dark, creepy forest in the middle of the night, carrying two magic sticks - while trying to sneak up on a dragon?

Not my idea of a pleasant way to spend an evening, that's for damn sure. I'm a street rat, born and bred; I don't belong in the woods. Especially not when there's a bloody dragon involved. Ah, I hear you ask: but why was I moving towards said giant reptile, and not away from it, as quickly as possible?

Stupidity can't be ruled out, of course. But mostly it comes from an inability to say no.

Also, it was Jim Davis who was asking. Hard fellow to say 'No' to. He got his nickname from the blood which frequently splashed his armour, and then ran down to stain his trousers.

- "C'mon, Ken." he'd said, two weeks earlier. "You owe me. You know you do."

I did. He'd helped me out - twice - when a particular plan of mine required a bit of strength. I'm no weakling ... but when I needed to stand on someone's shoulders to reach a certain window ... Jim came to mind.

Now he was calling in the favors.

- "What's the job?" I asked.

He looked both ways, to make sure that no one was eavesdropping, or close enough to hear us. "It's a fabulous treasure, man. Fabulous! I have all of the details looked after - all we need is a rogue."

He grinned. "And you're one of the best. Aren't you always telling me so?"

- "What's the job, Jim? And who are 'we'?"

- "You'll find out in plenty of time." he promised.

That was how I ended up riding in a wagon for nine days straight, headed south-southwest from the city.

Jim was the leader. He was a legend in Black, a man who had twice been offered a captaincy by prominent Pirate Lords. He'd turned them down, because he valued his freedom more highly than any wealth or power they could provide. I liked him for that.

He was a plain speaker, usually, and a loyal friend. Jim was also a fearsome fighter. It was the rest of his party I wasn't so sure about.

Sazz was introduced to me as a spell caster. But I'm not an ignoramus, when it comes to magic, and my nostrils function just fine, thank you very much. Sazz was a necromancer. He had that stench, the reek of dead things, that rotting putrescence which tells you immediately that something is ... off.

He was an arrogant asshole, too.

Tega was also a caster, who had mastered both offensive and defensive spells. He was cheerful, and down to earth. Likeable enough - but I reserved judgment until I could see what kind of magical weight he could throw around.

The last member of the party was Carpon Balley. He was a Potolian ranger, skilled with a crossbow. He was also the party comedian.

- "How many days will it take to get there?" I asked.

- "As many as it takes." said Carpon.

On the second day out, Jim finally told me what we were going to do.

-"We're going after a dragon."

- "A dragon?" I squeaked. "What kind of dragon?"

- "The dangerous kind." said Carpon.

- "We can do this, Ken." said Jim. "I wouldn't have asked you, otherwise."

He had the grace to laugh when he saw my face. "Sorry, that didn't come out quite the way I meant it."

As we drew close to the edge of the Great Forest, we began encountering farmers who had lost sheep, or even cattle. More than half of them blamed it on the dragon. A few even claimed to have seen it, silhouetted against the moon.

- "A dragon who hunts by night? I've never heard of such a thing." I said.

- "Just how many dragons have you heard of?" said Carpon.

- "Good point. I'll give you that one." But then I had something else to ask our fearless leader. "Jim: how did you come to hear of this particular dragon before it became common knowledge in the city?"

- "What d'you mean?"

- "Do the Pirate Lords know about this? If not, when will they find out?"

He shrugged. "Hopefully not until we're long gone."

- "Oh, no. Tell me you aren't planning on doing a runner. Aww, shit - that's it, isn't it? You aren't planning to go back. Jim ..."

The necromancer glared at me. "You talk too much, rogue." he hissed.

Now, I can understand why some people would prefer not to bring their loot back to Black. The Pirate Lords are as greedy as any other government, and routinely claim 10-20% of the booty from piracy on the open sea, trade expeditions, shipwrecks, and just about any venture that makes a profit.

However, where Jim and his friends could easily run in the opposite direction, I couldn't. Black was my home, my territory. I knew its streets and its people; hell, I knew its rhythms and some of its most intimate secrets. I couldn't just turn my back on it.

But something told me that Sazz and Carpon wouldn't want little old me heading back there, and letting the Pirate Lords know what they'd been up to. For the first time, I began to wonder if I was going to survive this adventure - or if I was even meant to.

I trusted Jim. And Tega didn't seem like a bad guy. But even the horses didn't like the smell of Sazz, and Carpon ... well, I wasn't too sure about him.

It wasn't too difficult to find the general vicinity of this dragon's lair. We only had to follow directions to the abandoned hamlet, and go southwest from there. There was a great gash in the edge of the tree line.

It looked as if a warship had been dragged through the forest, firing its guns to do as much damage as possible along the way. Grass and bushes and saplings were flattened, branches thick as my arm snapped off trees, and there were great gouges in the earth.

Sizeable trees had been knocked over, or burnt - but not by fire.

- "Acid." said Carpon. He spat.

- "Love-ly." I said.

To my intense relief, it was Carpon who did the preliminary scouting, while the rest of us found a place to conceal the wagons and hobble the horses. We camped there that night, and rested for most of the next day.

We ate, and then Jim explained the plan.

- "Ken goes in first." he said - and at that point, I was ready to vote for a new leader.

"You're a master at moving quietly," he continued, "and I know you can go unseen when you want to."

- "In the city, yes."

- "I have confidence in you." he said. I was glad someone did.

Tega passed me two sticks. They were about four feet long, with rounded bulbs at the tips. The other ends were sharpened, like a stake.

- "These are magical." he explained. "When you find the dragon, all you have to do is rub the two heads together. Keep the pressure up while you count to three. They'll burst into flame."

- "Really?"

- "Really."

- "What's this spell called?" I asked. I knew a little about magic, and was curious.

- "Tega's secret recipe magic firesticks." he said. "Now pay attention: once they burst into flame, they're going to give off a lot of light. Try not to look directly at them. Plant the sharp ends in the grounds, if you can. Do one, and then move further on before you stick in the second one, if possible."

- "Back up a bit." I said. "Did you say 'When I find the dragon'?"

The necromancer barked. He might have been laughing; I couldn't be sure.

- "This is pointless. Are we truly going to rely on this buffoon? Our entire plan hinges on his being able to carry out one simple task."