Chapter 21

"Dwarves, drow... dragons, here we are. We've a natural history of sorts - what is known or speculated about their physiology, how they breathe fire, the different subspecies, that sort of biological thing. "Dealing with Dragons," by Bron Wyrmchaser... ettiquette hints, I think. That may have some insights into draconic culture. "Dragon Tales," also by Wyrmchaser. That may be what you want. If I recall, it is the record of different lore he collected from interviews with dragons. A whole slew of dragonslaying pamphlets, chiefly written by men and women missing at least one limb. Not recommended. A few more texts along the lines of "Dealing with Dragons," about draconic likes and dislikes, but the Wyrmchaser is the authoritative version. Which would you like to see?"

Gwenh smiles strangley at him. "I'd very much like to see what other races think of us...dragons." She mentally cursed herself for a moment, it was only a little slip anyway. "And I can't bring it now, but I can promise your temple a book about dragons, written by a dragon. One that covers our, I mean their beliefs and social structures. We have the most interesting social structures you know? The one leader we all elect, it's rather quite amazing." She looks at the Latara. "Which book would you suggest?"

Latara and the priest have both gotten very quiet after Gwenh's repeated use of the first person plural pronoun in reference to dragons.

Latara's eyes just got big and shining and very excited. The priest, on the other hand, is trying very hard to control his breathing. Either she thinks she's a dragon or she is a dragon. If it's the former, she's a nutcase and we'd better keep her happy. If it's the latter... He almost faints as he envisions the elf shifting into a draconic form, knocking over bookcases and gutting books with accidental swipes of the tail. Not to mention all of the bad things that dragon breath can do to books...

"The Wyrmchaser guy seems to know his stuff," Latara finally opines. "You said you wanted a history, right? So I guess the 'Dragon Tales' one."

"Excellent choice," the priest quavers. He performs the noncontact grab and manuevers the book off of the shelf. "Why don't we page through this one first, eh?"

As time goes on and Gwenh does not turn into a huge lizard and destroy the temple, the priest gains some poise back. Once immersed in the book, he is nearly back to his old self. Most of the stories are related by a few golden dragons befriended by the author. Some the goldens claimed to have heard from others, including some tales by or about the evil dragons.

Given the generally solitary nature of the creatures, there isn't much in the way of a great wyrmish history. Rather, it tends to be epic tales of the actions of one or a few dragons, working together or in opposition, for a variety of causes.

There is a whole cycle of tales devoted to the antics of a bronze acquaintance of the golds who enjoys tagging along with humans in the guise of a pet. If they prove worthy, he usually followed them around until they got stuck in some jam or other, which he would then get them out of before leaving. His draconic name is left unrecorded, but the alias he uses among humans is "Fluffy," although he will answer to whatever name his human "owners" give him.

After these comic tales come some tragedies. Some are war stories - valiant dragons fighting evil, destroying it but losing their lives in the process. Some are love stories. The golds relate a version of the classic dragon/human love story - only they claim that, in this particular case, the mortal in question was a dwarf, not a human. The two beings spent many long, happy years basking in the glow of the dragon's hoard before the dwarf passed on. The dragon was said to die of grief soon after.

Another love story was also included, although the gold telling it warned that the details were uncertain. In fact, she wasn't sure if it was a love story at all, or perhaps an enchantment. The rumor had come down from the north that a silver had been killed. Her kin maintained that she had been aiding a red in something and was a race-traitor, and evil. The gold storyteller - who, the author notes, was flexing her claws as she spoke - thought it oddly coincident that the silver had also recently laid a clutch of eggs, which were preserved. The gold says that she would like to turn this into a tragic tale of love between the silver and the red, but simply has not enough evidence... and her silver neighbors would undoubtedly consider it a slander.

'Of course,' the author notes, 'now that I have recorded these comments... well, the kind reader will understand why I have preserved the anonimity of my fine friends and sources.'

Gwenh's eyes particualry light up at the mention of the silver and the red. "Haylis Crimsintinous and Silvae Silvanius...I know of that story. It's not left unrecorded, those of the Silvanius Clan wish it to be unknown. It was a tragic love story, Haylis wasn't evil...Silvae loved him dearly, her own hatchmates, two brothers and one sister murdered her and stole their only pure silver child, killing the rest of the newborns...Jaclene, Klain, Rosaline...Haylis they say still lives, but that much is unknown to me. Their surviving daughter was raised by one of Silvae's brothers, she called him 'Da.'" She smiled a sort of wierd fuzzy warm smile at this. "His name was Grannford. Grief over what they had done ate away at him until his scales changed from silver to the darkest red. He was still a good dragon, but his consious changed his appearance. They say the gods wanted to teach him that even those who appear evil aren't always such." She sighs. "He was exiled from his clan, even though he was their leader, as was the female child, who by now is no longer a wyrmling, but a full-fledged dragoness. They feared her mixed heritage would destroy them." Under her breath she added, "They are fools."

Looking at the priest she ask. "Could this tale be copied? So that the true story can be known, if only to a few? I owe them that much."

The Oghmite is taking shorthand notes as Gwenh rattles off her more detailed version of the story. "Might I have your name, miss, as author of this story?"

Latara pipes up slowly, "Gwenhywvar Silvanus, wasn't it?"

"Ah... hmm. Er... same as the, eh... hmm." The priest decides commenting further might not be appropriate. "Copied? Well, this section is only a few pages..." He wants to ask who she owes how much, but two visions - one a promised draconic book, the other a mad dragon in the library - keep him from prying further. "How many copies, miss? For yourself, or for our lending section?"

Gwenh seems not to pay attention to his comments. "It's spelled Gwenhwyfar, the w is before the y. I hope you have it right?"

She seems to think for a moment. "Two copies for me, if that's all right. And as many for your lending libary as you wish. One would do, but it is so nice to have the true story known." She looked to Latara. "What did you think of the story? I can't believe Clan Silvanius would cover it up, Pyre, I mean Haylis wasn't evil, and Silvae loved him so."

"I think it's a very sad story," Latara says softly. "My mother's people have much the same problem... so very, very many of their kin are so very evil. Dark elves who wish to follow the path of light, if they survive departing from their brethren, are often killed by those they would befriend."

"I can understand why they wouldn't want the names to get out. Those dragons were murderers and infant-slayers. That's not the sort of reputation you want to have you clan get. If Haylis was evil, then maybe it would have been a story to keep, about purging evil out of the clan, and it would have been all right. But since he wasn't... that makes the silvers very wrong."

Gwenh nods. "The elders knew nothing of the hatchmates intention on purging Haylis and Silvae out of their clan. But if they did, I doubt they would of done much but stand idly by and watch." Her expression softened suddenly. "If only father had of been home, he could of defended us..." She stiffened her expression. "But he would of died also, it would of been yet another life wasted. They thought they were doing the will of their god, that was a lie. He does not believe in murder."

The priest makes a few more doodles in his notes, writing that the author of the new addendums seemed to be claiming to be surviving hatchling.

Latara puts a sympathetic arm around Gwenh's shoulders, but doesn't say anything.

Gwenh snapped her head up and looked at Latara. "Perhaps it's time to let the priest alone to do his work. Is their anything in here you might like to study or read about? Or is their anything I can tell you that you would like to know?"

Latara shakes her head. "I can come here and view the books anytime Mother lets me off the main desk. But maybe you can tell me some more stories later. But it's getting late, and I need to get back to the Golden Bear, for the Dance. Are you... are you still coming?"

"Of course," Gwenh smiled. "But first, let's see what the others have learned.