Chomper

Suddenly, the fighting died away. From the castle wall, archers and healers were scrambling down ladders and ropes. Both groups found more arrows and bodies than expected. Echoes of horns and drums sounded from various distances, sending commands and queries to those that understood.

The field beyond the Duke's castle walls was once a lovely garden. Now it was a ruined expanse of dead and dying horses and fighters. Hooves from enormous cavalry steeds had ravaged the lawn, leaving it as pocked as the Duke's jousting ground. Burning wagons and siege towers left black, smoking scars.

Some of the Elvenari Sisterhood were already walking among the twisted shapes of armored combatants, motioning for stretchers when they found someone alive from either side.

Torben found himself squishing through mud that oozed with horse blood as he gathered a handful of decent arrows that could fly again. His little Rock Dragon rode on his shoulder and squeaked in dismay at the unpleasant smells and noise.

Torben rubbed Chomper's throat as the tiny dragon's claws scrabbled and scraped around his collar in an effort to find some place to hide down in his tunic.

"Easy, my boy," Torben cooed, inhaling sharply as he gently removed a claw from his tender flesh. "Go fly a bit; while you can." He felt a familiar sense of otherness as Chomper's joy bubbled over into Torben's mind. He had always wondered if other Rock Dragons had this kind of connection with "their" people.

Chomper jumped off his shoulder and, elegant as a hummingbird, sped away toward an overturned wagon. He landed, poked around for a moment, squeaked in terror, and sped back. Torben saw the image of a dead soldier flash in his mind.

He reeled, suddenly dizzy.  He was able to see through Chomper's eyes!  What the hell?

Torben heard armor jingle behind him, and Chomper sent a mental picture of another mailed archer, his friend Crow from Chalameria. He was collecting arrows and looking annoyed.

"What a shitty day," Crow said as he snapped the already-broken shaft off an arrow and dropped the vicious black arrowhead into his leather haversack. He had an Elvenari bow in one hand and a bloody rag tied around his shaven head.

Chomper flitted over and started licking Crow's rough cheek.

"Hello, baby boo boo," Crow cooed in mock baby talk, rubbing the little dragon's spine ridge. "You're a pretty baby boo boo."

Torben collected more arrows, smiling at the crusty old rogue's equally crusty rendition of a sweet old lady petting a favored lap dog.

"Our brave Duke is off surveying the northern outposts," Crow groused. "It's more likely he's surveying the ale houses while we starve and bleed."

Torben handed him a round of hardtack. "Here is today's feast."

Crow took it, clipped a corner off with his teeth, and handed it back. "I'd prefer a nice bowl of rice and beans with a little dwarven hot sauce, but this will work." He pointed at a group of people, mostly old ladies, scouring bodies for food and supplies. "Maybe one of our dearly departed knights can share their largesse with us."

"We ate yesterday," Torben quipped. "What else could you ask for?"

Crow grunted and spat out a half-ground hull of barley that had been embedded in the rock-hard biscuit. Chomper launched off his shoulder and chased the hull, an echo of excitement whistling through Torben's mind.

The dragon landed in the trampled grass, and disturbed a horsefly. Insect and dragon shot into the sky and began a swirling, corkscrew chase high above the field.

Torben let his tired, muddled thoughts relax for a moment, and, for the first time, he could clearly see what Chomper saw. Chomper must have sensed it too. Torben heard him squeak and break off from his pursuit. Torben felt his amusement at the new sensation.

Chomper sped back and hovered in front of Torben's face, squeaking and growling.

"What's his problem?" Crow asked as he broke off another arrowhead for his collection.

Torben ignored the rogue. Instead, he focused on relaxing his mind again and saying, "Go up high, my little friend. I want to see what you see."

Chomper squeaked happily and bolted skyward. Torben was amazed and a little dizzy as he adjusted to this dramatic new view of the world.

"You alright?" Crow asked.

"Yes."

"You look sickly."

"I'm fine. Just tired," Torben lied. If he could learn to control this new vision-sharing relationship he had with Chomper, he could scout enemy movements!

"Chomper," he thought, "Turn toward the forest. Can you see the Red Capes?" He sent a mental picture of an enemy soldier with a red woolen cape.

Chomper turned as requested and immediately Torben saw a group of ten Red Capes following a shallow stream, their movements invisible to all but someone standing on the bank. At least one was an officer or noble based on the fur trim on his cloak.

"Crow, I can see Red Capes."

"Shit! Where?" Crow drew his sword; its Elvenari script flashed silver in the dappled sunlight.

Torben pointed. "Way over to the east. They are sneaking along a stream where we can't see them."

Crow looked confused. "So...how do you know they are there?" He sheathed his blade.

"I can see them. I can see through Chomper's eyes now. Somehow."

Crow ran a dirty finger under his bandage and scratched gently. "How long you been holding back on us?"

"It just happened. Actually, no more than five minutes ago."

"We gotta tell the Sergeant Major," Crow said. "Old Stickuphisass will probably make you a noble if we can turn the tables on them."

After the conversation, Torben realized he had lost the view from Chomper. He relaxed his mind just so, and the vision came back. "I count ten...no, nine soldiers and one probable officer. The officer has a leather satchel and a fur collar."

"Hmm," Crow mused. "I bet Old Stickuphisass might like to see the inside of that satchel."

Crow ran toward a cluster of soldiers resting in the shade of an overturned wagon. Torben watched him cajole them to their feet. He patted a few on their shoulder and seemed to make a joke. A few of the dirty faces smiled. In less than a minute, Crow was leading twenty soldiers at a trot toward the Red Capes.

Chomper came back, and Torben resumed his hunt for useable arrows. An hour later, Crow and his merry band returned with the officer. The unhappy officer had a bloody nose, and Crow was carrying his satchel. There were no other Red Capes among them, and none of Crow's soldiers were missing.

"Come with us, Master Torbie. Let's go see the Sergeant Major and allow him the honor of rewarding us appropriately."

As predicted, Old Stickuphisass, was almost giddy with excitement. The satchel was full of rolled vellum with plans and details of the enemy positions, strength, and recent losses.

When questioned by the beaming Sergeant Major, Torben was reluctant to reveal the full story about his new bond with Chomper. Instead, he simply said, "I saw one of the officer's men scrambling along the stream bank, and Crow went after them. They were wearing red, after all. Easy to see."

That seemed to satisfy the Sergeant Major's curiosity, and he rewarded Torben and Crow with a gold coin apiece. Each soldier in Crow's impromptu squad received a silver coin.

A week later, the war was over. The satchel had unraveled everything. Crow got a medal and ten acres from the Duke. It was ten acres of troll-infested hill country, but it was all his.

Torben went back to his home in Salvania. He eventually took a job with the City Guard, and people were amazed at his powers of perception. It was almost like he could see things happening far away.

Uncanny, really.








For more about Crow's Chalameria, visit https://www.allianceatlantalarp.com/about-chalameria

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