Chronicles of Draezoln

Tales of the world of Draezoln

Chapter 3-4

Days blended into months in like manner. Always there was more to do than Garkhen could possibly do, and always Solkh’Tolkharkha seemed both understanding of and slightly disappointed by his charge’s struggles. Slowly, the young half-dragon grew in strength, magic, understanding, and faith.

Somehow, though, Garkhen always felt like he was falling short of the gold dragon’s expectations. Part of him wondered if, just maybe, the ancient dragon didn’t really understand the limitations of a young half-dragon, but he nonetheless felt the hovering, thinly veiled disappointment keenly. At times he almost felt like despairing, as if his will was as exhausted as his body often felt, yet somehow he always found the strength to continue on.

Years passed in this fashion. In time Garkhen reached his full growth—roughly four feet nine inches, a giant among dwarves, and broader-shouldered than many humans. He also gained skill with the spell-prayers of Bahamut, though not with arms and armor. Despite Solkh’Tolkharkha’s best efforts, he could not teach that which he did not know, and so his student’s skill with the mace remained lacking.

Still, Garkhen rarely saw the outside world. The only time he went farther than a few miles from Solkh’Tolkharkha’s lair was when the great dragon took him on a journey to the Kingdoms of Men. Always he visited some king or lord among humans, or more rarely elves or dwarves. The visits were brief, and Garkhen could little understand the words Solkh’Tolkharkha shared with those he visited, but always he was struck with the certainty that there was great importance behind them.

The half-blue dragon continued like this until it was, by his estimate, nearly his fiftieth birthday.


Just to be clear, 50 is about adulthood for a dwarf, and teenage for a dragon. So for Garkhen, it’s somewhere in between.

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