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Storm on the Horizon
an illustrated tale
page 1

    The trip from the lands of Tanarth was long and hard, but the eight warriors had high spirits, even through the weeks of travel.  Just the thought of meeting the great dragon Formeathan had everyone excited in one way or another, though Garalt was a bit uneasy about the whole situation.  Even though he knew that the great red dragon was good, that didn't guarantee he would welcome them into his prison with open arms.  The trip towards the mountains grew worse with each passing day.  Every night of the two weeks that it took them to reach their destination Garalt was tormented with visions of Kullvox and his encounter with the black dragon.  Over and over, countless times the life of his friend and mentor was snuffed out by the jaws of the beast.  Garalt had not been getting much sleep, and it was showing; the whole group's progress had slowed considerably.

    Despite all the troubles they were having, Garalt's lack of sleep, the general lack of energy from the entire group from weeks of traveling, they reached the mountains of Strattich.  It took much effort to climb the many steep cliffs of the mountain range, but at least the mountain gave them plenty of footholds to use.  Following a hastily written map, the group made their way through the winding canyons and shear cliffs of the mountain range.  It took a great deal of time to reach the rock face that they thought held the great beast.
    "Is this it?" Drakon said, panting, moving his hand against the rock face of the sheer vertical cliff.
    "I don't know," Garalt shook his head, sitting down to rest.
    "According to this map you scribbled," Demonclaw ribbed Garalt, "this should be it.  We followed the directions as best as we could, given what you drew."
    "So I'm not a cartographer, get off it!" Garalt snapped.
    The whole group fell silent, each looking at the cliff before them.  Garalt looked over at Demonclaw and sighed heavily.
    "I'm sorry... this has been a long trip."
    "I understand," Demonclaw said.
    "Yes, this has been hard on all of us," Garn said.
    "Aye, hard on the wee ones," Tundrock chuckled, flexing his muscles.  "This be a might easy task for those from Valk!"
    The whole group began to laugh at the giant knight and his open air ego.

    "So how do we know if this is the right place?" Demonclaw asked.
    "I suspect that the bow will tell us," Greylen said, pointing in Alyia's direction.
    "I don't know how though," Alyia said, slowly walking toward the cliff face.
    "Fire an arrow at the wall, Alyia," Garalt suggested, "worse case you'll lose an arrow."
    Alyia shrugged and lifted the shining bow.  Reaching back to her quiver, she picked an arrow and took aim at the mountain side.
    "Come on, lass, it's not like it's a small target!" Tundrock laughed.
    Alyia lowered her bow, trying to control her laughter as the rest of the group joined in.  Once she composed herself, Alyia once again raised the bow and pulled back on the string.  The arrow began to glow brightly in fantastic colors.  Garalt began to wonder if the arrow might explode in her hands, but as soon as he thought of it, Alyia let loose the arrow.
    The sound of the arrow hitting the rock face was like thunder, which shook the whole countryside.  The sound ricocheted throughout the canyons and crevasses of the mountain range, sending the shock wave through the group countless times.  The arrow had all but disappeared as the rocks of the mountain began to wave and ripple like water.  It was as if Alyia had thrown a rock into a still pool of water, the ripples radiating out in a huge oval about the rock face.  Garalt was astounded by the sight.

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All characters contained within this page and website are purely fictional, any resemblance to persons either living or otherwise is purely coincidental.  All material  contained herein are copyrighted 2002 by and property of Anthony J. Sava III.  Any copying or reproduction of said material is strictly prohibited except with expressed written authorization.