Anth 01 The Dragons of Krynn by Dragonlance

Author:Dragonlance [Dragonlance]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-05-23T15:42:49.352000+00:00

The Middle of Nowhere Dan Harnden

It was a very small but ordinary village, the kind city dwellers often think of as idyllic, offering a simple, more peaceful way of life. At the town's center were just a few stores. If the villagers' needs could not be satisfied by these local merchants, then a long wait for delivered goods or an even longer journey to some distant location were their only other alternatives. But this was rarely necessary. The town was self-sufficient and, in fact, had little or no contact with the outside world. All very quaint. Although some residents lived at a distance from the village proper, others chose to build their houses right in town and rather close to one another. The dwellings and other structures were simply designed. Almost all the homes were sheathed with bark in the manner that was popular among country folk. The main street, which wasn't long, was paved with dirt and crushed rock and lined with lush old trees that partially hid many of the houses from view. But the main street did not pass all the way through the village as one might expect. Instead, it widened and ended in a circle with a village green in the center. If one were flying above the town-as say a dragon might-the street would look something like a keyhole. Really quite charming. Not all the structures were made of bark. The ones at the circumference of the circle were built of weathered gray stone. This was the business district, which included a blacksmith's shop, a combination feed and general store, a tavern, and a large building that served as the archives. The village's only source of negotiable income came from the preserving, copying, replicating, and subsequent selling of ancient manuscripts. Very meticulous work. Of the four buildings, the tavern was by far the most popular. As it was too early this day for any decent citizen to be imbibing, the tavern was without patronage. This was not out of the ordinary. But the lack of activity at the feed store and blacksmith's shop was far from normal, as were the shouts of anger that rose from the archives, which doubled as the town's meeting place in times of crisis. Fists crashed down on tables and accusations flew. Fear was in the air, and the serenity of this mostly sleepy hamlet had been shattered.

* * * * *

The sighting of a dragon had prompted the emergency session at the archives. Without exception, all the residents had turned out for the meeting and were in good voice. "What kind of dragon was it?" someone shouted. "What kind do you think, idiot?" snapped Glykor, who directed the work of the archives. "How can we be sure it was on a reconnaissance mission? Why would the dragon attack us?" another villager inquired. "Shut up! You know why, " replied Smorg, the town's forge smith. A loud, extended session of incoherent shouting ensued. Moin Rankel had long ago learned

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