The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) Read Online Free Page B

Elomelorrahahn, which I just called Elome, the most majestic of all, was hidden in the fog and forests.
    The Free City, Narnum, hosted all the races, at least all those not so monstrous, damaging, or tormented. It was a trade city where all the merchants from all the races came to do business, and I found it the most exciting of them all.
    The most dreaded, not so vast or appealing, was Thraagramoor, or just Thraag, grim as a mudslide, crumb poor, and run by the orcs, ogres, and goblin sorts.
    “Well,” Brenwar said, “which way will it be?”
    The Mountain of Doom lay in the south, leagues and days from the others. The cities were each two weeks' ride from each other. They formed a rough circle, with Narnum, the Free City, hosting the middle. Everything in between was unprotected and dangerous land.
    “Free City, as if you didn’t know,” I said, hoisting my canteen to my lips.
    “I thought we were to be rescuing dragons and such? There’ll be no dragons in that city.”
    “Ah, but is there not talk of dragons wherever we go?” I was grinning.
    “I say we go to Morgdon first, then. My kin will be happy to see you again.” He stroked his beard. “Not so much as me, but they’ll be glad.”
    Visiting with dwarves was almost as bad as visiting with dragons, except the dwarves were always working, drinking, smoking, or frowning. Their voices were gruff, their conversations short, but they also took time to host their guests. They liked to talk about the things they built and the battles they fought in—with vivid detail. But if you’d heard one dwarf story, you'd heard them all. I was polite when I said, “How about on the way back then, Brenwar?”
    He grunted, kicked his short little legs into the ribs of his horse, and charged forward. “To Narnum it is then, Nath! But by my beard, they’d better not have run out of dwarven ale, else I’ll drag you back to Morgdon by your ears!”
    I couldn’t help but smile as he spurred his mount, the hot air of the sun billowing in my recently chopped hair thanks to those dreaded orcs. It would grow back before we made it to Narnum City, where I could find an elven barber to refine it with a dash of magic here and there.
    We traveled dusk to dawn, over the plains, through the woodlands, over some mountains, through some small lake towns, and well past the ruins. All the way we chatted with caravans and merchant trains. It was spring, and farmers, miners, and merchants were moving along the dusty and cobblestoned roads, taking their wares to every city in the north.
    As usual, I heard the same rumors of war, for there were battles and skirmishes everywhere. There were soldiers from many races, all eager to lay down their lives to make money for their families. Brave men we met, and I admired them all. Of course, there were others, too, up to no good. Some spoiled and bold and others as crooked as a busted dog's tail. But I didn’t chat too long. I had heard it all before. I’d fought in wars myself.
    Nearing the end of the tenth day, my hips were sore from all the hard riding, and words couldn’t describe my elation when I saw the tiniest tip of a spire in the middle of Narnum City.
    “Brenwar! We’re almost there. Two hours' ride at most, wouldn’t you say?”
    “Aye, I can’t see it, but I know the road as well as you. I knew when we were five hours away three hours ago.” He snorted. “I knew we were a day away a day ago. I see no reason for celebration. It’s not like we haven’t been here before.”
    “Ah, it’s just better to actually see it. Having the goal in sight. Can’t you ever get excited about anything?”
    “I’ll be excited when I have a barrel of ale under my bones and a full tankard as big as my head. It looks the same as it always has: not dwarven.”
    Well, I was happy. The past few months I’d been outside the cities, tracking down dragon poachers and hunters. Life wasn’t all fun and games for me despite all my advantages, but