Chapter four: Gold-Tooth, red hair, and firewood
Spike honestly couldn't remember when he'd last had such an unpleasant dream. Or when he'd last slept so poorly. But both of these things had apparently happened, seeing as he could both vividly remember the dream, and feel the incredible pain in his back, and how his bed was moving.
Wait, moving?
Spikes eyes opened immediately and he hurried up without thought. Causing him to drop onto the ground and roll around before finally he was lying still. He really didn't want to get up, his entire body ached and he was fairly certain that what was beneath him was dirt, and not floor paneling.
He felt someone grabbing carefully onto his shoulder and rocking him lightly. "Come now little one, it is not yet time to rest. You have done so for a while now." Said someone spike couldn't really remember hearing ever before, only in that dream. And that's when he thought of something that terrified him, what if it hadn't been a dream?
What if that bear was real, what if that old guy had been real? What if he really had been sucked into that weird scroll the sales pony had shown him? What if he wasn't currently lying on the floorboards in the library, the voice just being Twilight with a really sore throat, and his bed just moving because of some magical spell?
The answer to all these questions spike concluded was; he didn't know. And he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. But it didn't seem like "Twilight" gave him much of a choice, as he was once again shaken lightly to rouse him, even though it was unnecessary.
"Come now little one, you will accomplish nothing by staying here like this." The voice said again. Spike still didn't move. He just wanted the voice, whoever it was, to go away and leave him alone for at least a little while.
The voice sighed. "If I have to carry you then I will." It said bluntly, "Or at least Shiln will." It said thereafter, causing something next to them to huff in obvious disagreement.
Spike finally breathed out, only now realising that he'd been holding his breath the entire time since he'd heard the voice. He rolled over and sure enough, both the bear and the old guy, as well as the leaves of the forest from his dream were all there. Well, it wasn't exactly a dream he corrected himself, this was reality. But what reality still remained to be answered.
"It is good to see you are awake yet little one." The old man said, smiling through his braided beard. "Sit up again, we are to move out as soon as possible."
Spike slowly got up, and the old man grabbed him by the arms and lifted him into the large bear. Spike only now noticed that the old guy had what looked to be claws on his arms, right by the wrists. They looked exactly like those the bear had naturally, and Spike wondered how he'd gotten them, and why he even had them strapped to his wrists.
Spike felt slightly more at ease than he had earlier, mostly because he hadn't been fed to the bear yet, and he finally got a really good look around the place he was in. It was a forest, that much was obvious, but It looked like no forest he'd ever seen. The leaves were a dark green, almost so dark they bordered on being completely black. The branches were crusted and blackened, and looked ready to break as soon as somebody whistled in their direction. The ground and grass was almost the same color, a lifeless gray that looked like it had all energy sucked out of it.
"What is wrong with those trees?"
The old man looked where the dragonling was pointing. His brows furrowed, before his expression softened and he sighed. "They have been touched by the curse of the dire."
"Curse of the dire?" Spike asked, curious as ever.
"The dire represent the other side of the eternal conflict, one that has been waged for as long as any can remember. They fight to uphold chaos, pride, and the belief of power through tyranny. Whenever they gain foothold in newly conquered territory, the first thing they do is sap the land of life, ensuring that their Ancient must never go without sustenance."
Spike scratched his head. There we're quite a few words in that explanation he didn't quite understand. Apparently the dire we're evil, and the old guy clearly wasn't a big fan of them. Spike wasn't sure what to think, but from the Discord incident, he'd learned that plants that were black weren't generally a good thing.
"What's an ancient?" He asked as his next questions, his curiosity had been fed, but it had grown even hungrier with every word the old man had said.
The old man looked at spike with a confused expression, seeming surprised that the dragon didn't know of the ancients, before he shrugged it off. "The ancients are a thing of mystery to many. They appeared millennia ago, soaring from the sky and smashing into our world. They are beings of immense wisdom, but they only speak to some, those that are considered true heroes."
Spikes ears grew about tenfold as soon as he heard those last words. "How do you become a hero?"
The old man smiled at the dragon and patted him lightly on the head. "I am sorry to tell you youngling, but to become a hero one must be destined to. I, alongside my brethren of the radiant, have all had our destinies told, and therefore we were chosen by our fair lady."
"Fair lady?" Spike asked, but the old man seemed absent minded now, and instead of answering his question, he merely looked up at the sky.
"It is getting too dark to continue, if we do ambushes are sure to happen this deep within Dire territory." The old man mumbled to himself, just loud enough that spike could hear him. "We set up camp here for the night, we should arrive at the capital tomorrow."
The old man turned around and kneeled down so he was on eye level with spike. "Can I ask a favor of you little one?"
Spike nodded, he was longing to do something other than walk and ask questions, and in all honesty he did feel in debt to the old man. "Whatever needs doing!" The young dragon said with no small amount of enthusiasm.
The old man giggled slightly before he nodded. "That's the spirit. If you could go and fetch us some firewood, that'd be lovely. I need to go out and find something to eat for both you and Shiln, and I doubt I can carry all too much by myself."
The dragon nodded and saluted. "Consider it done!"
"Thank you, youngling." The old man said.
"Spike, just call me spike." Spike said, getting slightly tired of being referred to as young one, or dragonling.
"Well then I'd prefer if you would call me Sylla." The old man said, reaching his arm down for a handshake. Spike grabbed it, and shook it with vigor, before he turned around and walked quickly towards the woods.
"You know, he reminds me of you when you were a cub." Sylla said to the bear, to which Shiln huffed. "Oh shush, you can never take a joke can you?" He said, as he and his companion walked to where he could smell fresh prey.
Spike meanwhile was busily picking up fallen branches and sticks for the fire. He at this point had his arms full, but he continued onwards, not wanting to disappoint Sylla.
He moved further in, but as he did he thought he heard something in the distance. At first it just sounded like meaningless noise. But suddenly he heard the sound of roaring laughter. He looked around to try and locate the noise, and sure enough he saw light in the distance. He walked towards it, curious as ever, to see more of this strange place.
Once he got close enough he could see what looked to be the tip of a large cart. He moved in closer, ever so slowly as to not alarm whomever was laughing. Soon enough he could see the rest of the cart.
In front of it were several small furry creatures. They were about spikes height and looked to be doglike humans. Much like the diamond dogs from Equestria, but smaller and a lot furrier. They had primitive spears strapped to their backs, dripping with what spike could only guess was venom.
Then there were some slightly bigger ones. These things were ratlike in their appearance, long snout and a long hairless tail. They had small completely red eyes, and each one of them had a crossbow in their hand.
Then there was one last thing. It could've been mistaken for Spike, if spike was fat, blue, and drunk. The thing was lizard like and had a rather ornate sword, at least ornate compared to the dogmen's spear, strapped to his side. He was busily drinking from a goblet of wine, while the rest of the weird things were drinking what spike thought was beer, at least it smelled like it.
But the sad thing was there were more than that. Spike could see that one of the dogmen was sitting on a corpse, using it as a makeshift chair. The corpse had a crossbow bolt sticking out of its back, as well as several wounds that looked like they'd corroded around the edges, no doubt from the dogmens spears.
"Oi lads, I say we make a toast for dis 'ere raid, best one in weeks I say!" One of the ratmen said, raising a mug into the air. The rest of the things cheered alongside him, raising their mugs In a similar fashion.
"Ey Mulp." One of the dogmen said, bopping one of the ratmen on the shoulder. "Betcha ye can't hit that tree there, ya spaz!" He said, laughing in the ratmans face.
"Can too your rancid pile'a dung, watch'ere." The ratman said, his voice slurred by the ale and the herbs they'd been eating. He picked up his crossbow and aimed with shaking hands right at the tree. "Watch dis ere shot you shorks!" He said, pulling the trigger and letting the bolt fly.
Straight into the tree spike was standing next to, missing the original target. The small dragon yelped in surprise. Causing the bandits to get up from their seats. "Someone's 'round here boys!" One of them yelled. Spike, as accustomed as he was, dropped his firewood, and clamped his hands over his mouth, causing yet more ruckus.
One of the ratmen came hurrying towards spike, who found himself unable to move even if his whole body felt like it. The ratman pushed the branches away, and pointed the crossbow right at the dragons forehead.
"Don'tcha move now boy, or dis ere bolts goin' right through yer head." The ratmans said. "Come outta there, and keep yer hand were I can see em!"
Spike slowly moved out, keeping his hands above his head. Every single one of the weird creatures were staring at him with unblinking, beady eyes. The ratman poked him in the back with the crossbow, which sped up his speed slightly more.
"Who're ye, and why were you spying on us?" The lizardman said, taking another sip from his goblet, and wiping his mouth with his hand.
"I don't want any t-trouble....." Spike said nervously, trying his best not to quiver. Just after he'd said it every single one of the bandits started laughing maniacally, all except the lizard.
"Well, you didn't want no trouble, yet you're 'ere spyin on us. Seems to me like he wants trouble, don't it lads?" The lizard asked the rest of his gang. To which they started cheering; "Trouble! Trouble! Trouble!"
The lizard pulled his sword from his sheath, which Spike just not noticed wasn't actually as much a sword, and more of a really long kris. "Let's see how many holes we can poke in yer before you bleed out." The lizard said, grinning evily.
Spike was shaking his head, closing his eyes as tears were rolling down his face, this was not what he wanted. If only Sylla was here.
Spike waited, waited for the pain he was almost certain was on its way. But after a few seconds passed he opened his eyes and saw an arrow, perfectly placed right in between the lizards eyes.
From out the cluster of trees sprung a woman clad in bright green garments, her hair was a flaming red and she wielded a bow, firing arrow after arrow towards the bandits. She wasn't alone however, both Sylla and Shiln were besides her, Sylla throwing sickles towards the bandits, severing off limbs left and right.
The bandits started scattering, apparently without their leader there wasn't much they could do. Some stayed to fight, but most of the ratmen and dogmen left scarpering towards the thick cluster of trees, hoping to escape without losing their life or any limbs.
It didn't take long, as the very last dogman was killed with an arrow to the chest, Spike felt like he was about to collapse. Luckily, Sylla was there to grab him as he fell over.
"It is okay Spike, you are safe, they are gone." The old man said, his voice softer than earlier. Shiln walked over, the bear licked spikes face carefully, trying its best to nurse the wounds that weren't there.
Spike nodded, and with the help of the old druid he was able to stand by himself, no less terrified than he had been before.
"Thank you," Spike said. "To all three of you."
Sylla nodded. The red headed woman bowed slightly. "Think nothing of it, a Rangers job is never over, and this only made it easier."
Sylla walked over to the woman and put a hand on her shoulder. "Spike, this is the most lovely Lyralei, Windranger of the radiant, and one of the protectors of the woods." He said, before he walked over and placed a hand on spikes shoulder. "And this, my dear Lyralei, is spike. An anomaly within our world that I have been tasked to take to our fair lady."
Windranger nodded and smiled a warm smile to Spike, causing him to become slightly fidgety. "It's good to meet you spike, it was certainly brave risking your life to spy upon the bandits."
Spike nodded, she didn't have to know why he even did it, although spike was fairly certain she had bore witness to both his capture and everything that had followed.
"It was lucky I found more of their prey during my hunt." Sylla said. "They had killed some of the deer in the area, but the venom from their spears had spoilt the food, so they dared not eat it." Sylla huffed, the idea of hunting for sport made him mad beyond belief. "That was when I found Lyralei, she has been tracking these vile things for a week or so, but they're a slippery bunch the Gold-Tooth Bandits, capable of getting out of the stickiest of situations and then remain hidden for ages......"
"What we're these things?" Spike asked, nudging the lizard with his foot.
"They're the Gold-Tooth bandits. A ravenous bunch that attack our caravans and everything else they can get their hands on. They consist mainly of Kobolds." Sylla said, pointing at one of the ratmen, "Gnolls." He said, pointing at a dogman. "And their leaders, the Scalelings." He said, bending down on one knee next to it. He pried its hand open and took the kris it had been holding. "I think this belongs to you mi'lady." He said, flipping it and handing It over to Lyralei.
She looked at it, letting her hand run up and down the wavelike blade. She looked down at spike for a second and nodded. "A ranger must always pay her debts, if you hadn't kept the, distracted I would have never gotten them. I hope this will do as payment until I can pay you back properly." She handed spike the kris, and the dragon took hold of the black wood handle. It fit perfectly in his hand.
"Thank you." He said, nodding and extending his arm. The windranger shook his hand. She bowed first to spike, and then to Sylla. "I must go, I need to track the rest of the vermin down, lest they escape me again." She then zoomed off, rivalling applejack in her quickness, and hopped gracefully into the woods.
"A lovely female that one is." Sylla said. "Let us have a look at what these vermin have done shan't we?"
Spike followed Sylla towards the wagon, it was in fairly good shape, except for how everything had been pulled out to rummage through by the Gold-Tooth. Spikes looked at one of the corpses, this one had a dagger poking out of his side, right where spike knew his heart was. He instinctively clenched his fist, knowing that could've been his fate hadn't Lyralei and Sylla shown up.
"Most of it is destroyed." Sylla said, not sounding all too pleased. "It seems these people had no money, no doubt they were on their way to the city to sell their goods." He rummaged through the mess of broken bottles and tattered cloth, finally making a surprised, "Hmmh." Sound. "It is surprising that the Gold-Tooth would not consider this worthwhile....." He said, lifting a rather finely crafted ring. It was made of pure gold, with a singular red gem on the top. "This here Spike, is a ring of regeneration. An enchanted ring with magical healing properties, very pricy, and very rare."
Spike looked at the ring, it certainly looked pretty, but spike couldn't see anything magical about it. Sylla noted his lack of understanding and waved him closer.
"Let me show you." Sylla said, he took one of the claws strapped to his back, and slowly let it rip the skin on the palm of his hand. Spike grabbed hold of his hand and moved it away, stopping the druid from harming himself.
"What are you doing?!" He said, voice higher than he'd wanted it to be.
"Allow me to demonstrate." Sylla said, at the same time amused and heart warmed by the dragons care for his well being. He placed the ring on his finger, and while it happened very slowly, spike could visibly see the wound closing. Slowly but surely the bleeding stopped, the skin was whole once more, without even a scar to show for it.
"These things are valued all across the land." Sylla said, he then grabbed hold of spikes hand, and placed the ring on the dragons thumb, that being the only finger he had large enough to keep it in place. "Consider this a gift."
Spike looked down at his hand. The ring was shining, and he could now see it glowing slightly, a warm comforting sheen that filled him with calm. "Thank you Sylla."
"Bah, don't mention it." The Druid said, giving Spikes shoulder a kind squeeze. "If I were you I'd recommend taking that Scalelings belt, carrying that Kris around in your hand is gonna make you look like a criminal."
Spike walked over to the dead Scaleling, the arrow was still poking out from its head, and it's eyes had never been closed, causing it to stare blankly up at the leaves. Spike took hold of the claps that kept the belt together, and tugged it off. There was a rather large puch on it, which after looking in it spike found out was full of gold coins. At first he tried putting the belt on normally, but the Scaleling hadn't had the most slim of waists, so spike decided that the better way to do it was to simply have it hang over his shoulder, with the sheath on his belly.
"Come spike, firewood won't be necessary, the Gold-Tooths bonfire will serve as our warmth for the night." Sylla said, both him and Shiln already sitting and lying next to it respectively. Spike laid down, getting ready to sleep, but not as soon as he had did Shiln come over and cover him in warm fur, it felt almost like a blanket.
"It would seem she likes you." Sylla said, laughing heartily.
"No complaints," spike said, placing his head on the Bears belly, as a makeshift pillow of sorts.
"Good night spike, may you sleep well." Sylla said, preparing himself to yet another sleepless night filled with those dreams he oh so dreaded. He soon heard the sound of the dragon snoring.
"Tommorrow we will take you to the fair lady, and from there you are on your own."
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Would Spike really be bothered by weapons like those? He's really tough after all.
YES IT'S BACK. Glad ta see this here story be Living after so long. Can't wait fer the next Chapter.
6133214
Even if he is tough, weapons still hurt tho
6133481
Well, im surprised that there was no "What took so long." After it took me nearly fifteen years to get another chapter in
Good news is, theres a new one underway, and its almost finished