{"id":258892,"date":"2026-07-13T16:34:05","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T13:34:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/dragon-war-laurence-yep-1\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T16:34:05","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T13:34:05","slug":"dragon-war-laurence-yep-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/dragon-war-laurence-yep-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Dragon War – Laurence Yep (1)"},"content":{"rendered":"
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A silver dragon above him converged with another swooping in from the left. Tynan’s javelin caught one of the silvers in the wing. It hesitated in its aerial lunge long enough for Borac to draw his wings in a moment, then unfurl them to their full span, catching the air and forcing himself higher. The first dragon shot past in a move Borac considered very immature.<\/p>\n

The dragon’s rider was forced to clutch to the saddle to avoid falling off. Tynan was kicking Borac frantically in the sides, pointing downward. With a quick glance around the aerial circus to ensure that he was in no immediate danger, Borac ignored Tynan’s commands. The dragon opened wide the pit deep within himself, where his anger and bile lived and seethed. The taste on his long tongue was dark and thick, and when the acid left his jaws in a gout, he felt as if he spit out all his hatred for Tynan, for Tynan’s friends, for all humans.<\/p>\n

The acid splattered the silver dragon and its rider. Borac kept himself aloft, ignoring Tynan’s continued commands and kicks, watched as the silver wings of his enemy were eaten away by the acid. The dragon, a young female, screamed as she felt herself dying from the attack. Unable to keep herself in the air, she spiraled downward. Finally, losing all capacity for flight, she dropped. Her body punched a hole in the wall of smoke, then vanished.<\/p>\n

The dragon’s rider screamed in pain and terror, screams that ended abruptly. Borac rose higher into the sky, flying through the smoke. He guessed he was the oldest, most experienced dragon in this sortie. There was little to fear. Amidst the turmoil, however, they’d seen nothing of a cleric. Tynan cracked Borac on the side of the head with a javelin tip, knocking the dragon from his reverie. “I gave you a command!” Tynan yelled. “I expect to be obey-” Tynan’s words were cut off in a gurgle of pain, his chest was pierced from behind by the bright silver tip of a dragonlance.<\/p>\n

The weapon tore through Tynan’s body and struck Borac in the head above his eye ridge. Borac shuddered with pain, twisted his head to remove the barbed tip of the dragonlance. Another silver dragon, older and very experienced, had risen among the clouds and battlefield smoke to catch its enemy unaware. The fiery agony of the dragonlance stripped Borac of all sensibilities. He dropped from the sky, a great black stone, agony driving consciousness away, instinct taking control.<\/p>\n

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THE DRAGONS AT WAR Edited by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (c)1996 TSR, Inc. All Rights Reserved. OCR’ed by Alligator croc@aha.ru TABLE OF CONTENTS 1. Dream of the Namer Michael Williams 2. People of the Dragon Mark Anthony 3. Quarry Adam Lesh 4. Glory Descending Chris Pierson 5. A Lull in the Battle Linda P. Baker 6. Proper Tribute Janet Pack 7. Blind Kevin T. Stein 8.<\/p>\n

Nature of the Beast Teri McLaren 9. Even Dragon Blood J. Robert King 10. Boom Jeff Grubb 11. Storytellers Nick O’Donohoe 12. The First Dragonarmy Engineer’s Secret Weapon Don Perrin and Margaret Weis 13. Through the Door at the Top of the Sky Roger E. Moore 14. Aurora’s Eggs Douglas Niles Introduction Margaret Weis It is storyteller’s night at the Inn of the Last Home. Tika began the institution in order to boost sales during those cold winter nights when people would much rather stay home near the fire than venture out into the ice and snow.<\/p>\n

They became enormously popular and now, periodically, she and Caramon send invitations to the most renowned storytellers in Ansalon, offering to pay room and board if they come share their tales. This evening, the Inn has a fine collection of bards. Caramon stands up on a keg of ale to be seen over the crowd, and makes the introductions. “First, I’d like to present the old-timers like me,” Caramon says. “These friends date clear back to the time of the War of the Lance. Just raise your hand when I call your name.<\/p>\n

Tasslehoff, put your hand down. We have tonight: Michael Williams, Jeff Grubb, Nick O’Donohoe, Roger Moore, Doug Niles, Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman … Where’s Tracy?” Caramon peers out into the crowd. There are shouts of laughter when Hickman is discovered wearing mouse-colored robes and accusing everyone of stealing his hat. After the noise subsides, Caramon resumes. “A few of our bards this evening are making return appearances. Please raise your hands. No, Tas, that doesn’t include you. I-Wait a minute!<\/p>\n

What’s that you’re holding in your hand? That’s tonight’s cash box! Tas! Give me that!” General confusion. Caramon clambers down off the keg. Tas’s shrill voice rises in protest. “I was just keeping it safe, and a good thing, too! There’s a lot of shady- looking characters in this crowd tonight.” “No, that’s just Roger!” calls out Michael Williams. When order (and the cash box) are restored, Caramon introduces the bards who have told stories here before: Janet Pack, Linda Baker, Mark Anthony, and Don Perrin.<\/p>\n

“Finally,” says Caramon, out of breath and red in the face, “I am pleased to introduce several bards who are newcomers to Ansalon. Everyone please welcome Adam Lesh, Chris Pierson, and J. Robert King.” The newcomers are warmly welcomed and advised to keep their hands on their purses.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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