Rise of the Thrall Lord
The Battle of Fisheye Cove - Part 11
Perovich whistled appreciatively as he approached the towering statue of bronze. By the blessed gods, the eyes looked like real emeralds! He wished Meri was here to see this before he plucked the eyes out.
The light was coming from the ceiling; this end of the room was directly under one of the deeper pools of water above. Some invisible force formed the floor of the pool and held the water in place. The light cast from the sun was still to the front of the statue, but by midday it would shine directly down.
The other end of the chamber was cloaked in shadows, but Perovich could make out a statue of a huge bearded man with a great sword. The eyes appeared to be sapphire, but were smaller than the dragon statue’s. Also it was in darkness and was a more vertical climb.
So humming happily and grinning like a kid, he took out the short length of rope he had with him and assayed how best to manage the three-story climb up the smooth bronze neck to the top.
By the time he finally reached the great horns that rimmed the creatures head, his grin had changed to a grimace of determination. It had been harder than it looked, with two close calls that set his blood racing. If he fell and was hurt here, no one would know where he was. It was funny how he didn’t think of that until he was hanging upside-down by his knees twenty feet in the air.
His torch left below had long since sputtered out. So he sat on the dragonhead only in the water light filtering through the pool, resting for a moment. He was enjoying his conquest, and assessing the safest way to remove the large green gems when the shadow fell upon him. He looked up into the water suspended directly over his head and almost fell off the statue.
He found himself only scant feet from the maw of a real dragon! The creature’s pale yellow eyes glared at him from its ebony skull-shaped face. Its head was framed on either side by a pair of large slightly curved horns, and its vicious looking teeth jutted from its mouth even while closed. It was pure black, looked utterly evil, and he was sure it was looking at him with malicious glee.
It raised its claw and struck at him. The invisible floor of the pool didn’t so much as vibrate. The creature now appeared to be roaring at him, if such was possible underwater, but he could not hear it. Perovich couldn’t help but wince as the dragon spat a huge quantity of nasty looking green bile at the magical barrier directly over his head. Other than clouding the water a little, there was no effect.
Slowly regaining his courage, Perovich reached up and touched the barrier just above his head. There was no feeling, neither warm nor cool to the touch; his hand was simply stopped on a perfectly smooth barrier of magic.
He then did what was arguably the stupidest act of his short life that was already filled with a grand parade of spectacular foolishness. He taunted a dragon.