A few days had passed since my awakening. I had traded my tatters for sturdy wear that better suited my purpose. A jerkin and trousers and good stout boots, my rusty blade was discarded and a bright broad sword hung at my side, over it all a coat of plates. I had battled several beasts as I sought the knowledge to locate the lost Crown. It would be into the wilder areas of the world that I would venture. There to seek a Warlock of great renown. The Crown was hidden behind many protections. I was confident that I could overcome them all, save one.

The white heat of the Valley of Fire could not be defeated by force of arms or wits and guile. Only a Talisman could protect me from that inferno. In my life I had learned of the making of such things. My memories had become clearer of late, there were still gaps but some things were returning. Several of the Talismans had been crafted and this strange Warlock had the secret of their whereabouts. Only one other thing stood in my way, the Sentinel. A deathless guardian that barred the way to the midlands, a wild and dangerous place filled with fantastic creatures and magical places. To deal with this wild land I would need something a bit more potent, the Rune Sword. I laughed when the old sage told me about it. To him it was an ancient thing, a weapon of power to be feared. In my piecemeal memories it was the weapon I had commissioned for my family’s heirloom. God how long I had slept. She whom I loved has been long dead. The kingdom I knew had fallen and the usurper that had captured the Crown was gone to dust.

“The beast lays ahead my Lord” was all my guide would say as he pointed down the hill into the pile of stones that had been a temple.

My guide had been a starving outcast until I took pity on him and gave him purpose. I looked at him with narrowed eyes, he would go no further. That was just as well, this was warriors work and he had more value at his trade. We had been spared many hazards by his canny wood craft.

At my side was a creature that used to be a lion. It had thought to waylay us and have an easy meal. My strength and sword craft had improved of late, aided by the finding of an enchanted belt. Its power gave heft to my sword blows allowing me to break down the beast’s defenses and cleave it through the lung. My fluids (I cannot call it blood any longer) carry in them the elixir that permitted me to pass through death and return at this late date, by sharing a small portion of this with the recently deceased they will return to a semblance of life and I may command them as I see fit.

I could see the great reptile that coiled around the warm stones in the sun. The beast was totally unaware of the treasure he was guarding. I crept down; the feline corpse shambled silently behind me. No sound betrayed me; no footfall snapped a twig at an inopportune moment. I was nearly upon my quarry and had just motioned my undead war beast to advance to the forward when the crafty wyrm unleashed it fury.

Dragons are not truly intelligent creatures but they are clever, this one had feigned slumber until the last moment and now I was in a whirlwind of talons and teeth. Lunging, biting, slashing, grabbing. A clean blow spoilt by bad footing, a savage bite evaded by a slim tree serendipitously placed. The beast’s tail unwound like a colossal whip, I ducked and let the sword slip under it. The great wyrm roared in pain as I was driven backwards into the hard ground.

A mighty claw racked the earth and I rolled clear. I gave it another prick with the point of my blade and its other claw smote me a glancing blow, from a beast of this size that means it was not immediately fatal. It saw me prone on the ground but it had not reckoned with my cadaverous guardian. Just before the final lunge that would cause my second death it stopped and whipped its head around. Its jaws clenched on the undead lion that had latched its teeth in the Dragons soft underside and destroyed it, this opened its vulnerable neck and I lunged. The blood and gore drenched me as I reveled in the mighty reptile’s demise.

Not needing air I did not pant or gasp, I simply smiled as I made to claim my prize. I was brought up short by a wild cry.