Dragon Sorcerer: Claws Out

  The beginning of the first dragon sorcerer’s rise in the world.

  Copyright License Notes: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dragon Sorcerer- Claws Out

  Copyright © 2023 - Sean Oswald

  Cover art copyright - Sean Oswald

  Cover art by Luciano Fleitas

  This book is dedicated to my wife who has been bonded with me for 30 years as of 2023. She is as fierce as a dragon and as kind as Cami. She is definitely the better half of our bonding.

  Table of Contents

  Dragon Sorcerer: Claws Out

  Map of Taliea

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - Escape

  Chapter 2 - Awakening

  Chapter 3 - New Friends

  Chapter 4 - Monk?

  Chapter 5 - Into the Enemy’s Lair

  Chapter 6 - Potential

  Interlude 1 – Imprinted Upon

  Chapter 7 - Stretching My Legs

  Chapter 8 - Unexpected

  Chapter 9 - Followed

  Chapter 10- Fishing Made Easy

  Chapter 11- So maybe…

  Chapter 12 - Shared Lives

  Interlude 2 - Dragon Bloodline

  Chapter 13 - Not Running

  Chapter 14 - Asking for Help

  Chapter 15 - By the Dawn’s Light

  Chapter 16 - Claws Out

  Interlude 3 – Many Paths

  Chapter 17 - Back to Town

  Chapter 18 - Waking Up

  Chapter 19 - My Dogs?

  Chapter 20 - Pursuits

  Chapter 21 - Travel

  Chapter 22 - Unexpected Mentors

  Interlude 4 - Respect or Wealth?

  Chapter 23 - Rescue

  Chapter 24 - Pull and Fight

  Chapter 25 - Call it a Draw

  Chapter 26 - Doubling Down

  Chapter 27 - What Exactly Are You?

  Interlude 5 - Raw and Primal

  Stat Sheets - 1

  Chapter 28 - Big City

  Chapter 29 - Training With Blood

  Chapter 30 - Into the Streets

  Chapter 31 - Dirty Dwarves

  Chapter 32 - Unlikely Alliances

  Chapter 33 - A Dark Alley

  Chapter 34 - Fight or Talk?

  Interlude 6 – Thinking Things Through.

  Stat Sheets - 2

  Chapter 35 - Beginnings

  Chapter 36 - Surprise

  Chapter 37 - Dock

  Chapter 38 - The Deep

  Chapter 39 - Water Wings

  Interlude 7 - Unfettered Terror

  Chapter 40 - Tease of a Goddess

  Chapter 41 - Growing Closer with Questions

  Chapter 42 - All In

  Stat Sheets - 3

  Chapter 43 - Confrontation

  Chapter 44 - Peace?

  Interlude 8 - Never let him Go

  Chapter 45 - Mystery Machine

  Chapter 46 – Gaming the System

  Chapter 47 – Still Working It

  Chapter 48 - My New Home

  Chapter 49 - Annoyances

  Chapter 50 - A Surprise in the Stables

  Chapter 51 - Murder and Slavery

  Interlude 9 – Dragon Rider

  Epilogue

  Stats at the End of Book 1

  Cast of Characters and Places

  Other Books by the Author:

  Map of Taliea

  Prologue

  Sir Galbrecht, paladin of the goddess Miseria liked to think he always had the empire’s best interests at heart—or, more to the point, that of its people. Sometimes, the two could be difficult to discern, or even at odds. He hated it even more, when the orders from the church were in conflict with either of the other two.

  He’d once thought the church was supposed to mediate when the other two came into conflict. Galbrecht shook his head, remembering how naïve he once had been. Fortunately, their new quest aligned the interests of the empire, its people, and the church—rather than the interests of those entities being in conflict.

  To be honest, it happened more often than he liked. But he was no stranger to conflict. One couldn’t become a level twenty in any combat class without it. Struggle was a part of life. Meditation, prayer, and charitable work could only carry you so far. If you wanted to gather enough experience to reach his level, you had to get out there and live.

  Even his title as the Shield of Mercy didn’t exempt him from that. In fact, he had won his place as the top paladin of Miseria, the goddess of healing, by being willing to take those chances. That’s why this latest mission was one he could get whole-heartedly behind.

  Galbrecht sat on the top step of Miseria’s temple in the imperial city. It was a grand structure, but he had come outside for some fresh air and to wait for his companions. Well, almost all of his companions.

  One of them was already here. He expected to hear her voice at any… and there it was. She’d tracked him down again.

  “Why do you always have to wander off? It’s like you have no patience. You show your face in the chapel for the time of prayers, but then disappear as quickly as possible.”

  Galbrecht stood. It was the proper thing to do before a lady with such a high rank who stood before him now. Lady Lisella Forlay had status, both as the youngest daughter of a king and as one of the chief priestesses of Miseria. He rendered a short bow to her which she waved off as he said, “There’s a reason I chose to be a paladin rather than a priest.”

  She giggled at that. She was only half his age, a true genius to have achieved her level so young. Although, to be fair, being a royal had many advantages, too.

  “You always make me laugh Galbrecht. I’m glad to have you with me. Not all of our companions will be as noble as you are.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and then sighed. “Magus Serius can be a bit single minded, but he is a competent mage to have in the field. Too many mages reach his level and prefer to forget the adventuring that got them to that point. And Liam is quiet, but he knows his job and won’t step out of line.”

  She gave him that long-suffering smile that said she knew he was avoiding the obvious. “I don’t worry about the mage or ranger.”

  Galbrecht whirled around, his hand going to his sword as his danger-sense called to him. It wasn’t a dire warning, but that it activated at all within the city—let alone on this holy ground—was serious enough.

  A laughing figure stepped out from the shadow holding her hands up. “Easy there, big boy. The Princess here is talking about me.”

  Galbrecht took in the fifth member of their team. He had worked with Modessa before. She was a skilled rogue when it came to locks and traps. She also knew how to strike an enemy to put them down when the time came. The problem he had with the woman was with her extra-curricular activities.

  The woman was a rogue, so Galbrecht knew she didn’t have clean hands. But did she have to flaunt stolen jewelry in front of him? Or kill a foe in the act of surrendering?

  She never outright broke the law in his presence, but gave plenty of hints at what she had done when he was not there… or bent the rules till they screamed. The worst part was that it always came off as though this was all a game to her. Still, she was level twenty and given her age that was no mean feat.

  The last two members of their party appearing in a circle of light forestalled any conversation they might have. Serius was wearing his normal gray robes with black trim. It was an enchanted robe and different from the ones he wore when teaching at the Magi Academy. Behind him was the only non-human—well, half human—in their party. Liam was a skilled tracker and archer. Both were skills that would come in handy for this task.

  Galbrecht wouldn’t hold the man’s half-elven heritage against him. It wasn’t his fault who his parents were. The goddess always judged a man or woman by their actions, not their heritage—and even then, there was still mercy.

  “Greetings Serius and Liam. How fare you?”

  The ranger simply nodded but the magus said, “Better, now that I see you’re all in one place and I won’t have to go tracking you down.”

  Lisella frowned. “I thought we weren’t leaving till tomorrow?”

  “This is an important opportunity,” Serius rumbled. “We can’t afford to let it go to waste.”

  Modessa laughed again. “He has his dress all in a bunch at the chance to capture a blue. No one has done that yet.” She smirked at the wizard. “It must be that, or he felt a draft up his robes.”

  The mage stared at her as though he could see straight through her. Galbrecht chuckled to himself at that observation. With a wizard of Serius’ level, what was to say that he couldn’t? Still, he didn’t want this to become an issue.

  “Lady Lisella and I are only coming because of the good this can do,” the paladin said. “The dragon
knights have been a bulwark against our enemies and the basis for imperial power. But there haven’t been many dragons born or captured recently. This nest is supposedly full of dragons past hatchling but still young enough to handle, and reports indicate they’re more powerful than the ones which are normally bred within the royal pens. If this works, it will be a great boon for the empire.”

  Liam broke his normal quiet reserve as he muttered, “With what’s coming, we’re going to need it.”

  Chapter 1 - Escape

  Gone was the warm climate of the desert and the cool cave where I had hatched with the rest of my clutch. I could no longer smell the pleasant scent of ozone, which had been the first thing I remembered. It was a memory that, even now, I associated with my mother.

  I and my fellow hatchlings could spit lightning almost from the moment we were born—long before our scales changed from their initial dirty gray. That was back when we were mewling little wyrms, little more than creatures of instinct. We ate what mother provided as we grew in both body and mind.

  Not that it happened overnight. I had slept… a lot. It was the way of the wyrm. We were too strong for this world, so periods of growth were often defined by our extended naps—naps which lasted weeks or sometimes even up to a year. My mind never pondered if this was the way it was with other beings. It was the dragon way and that meant it was the correct one.

  During those periods of hibernation, my body developed. I shed my scales, replacing the ugly gray with a brilliant blue. My color was still a dragonling’s azure blue, though I knew in later years it would deepen. How I knew that was the crux of what made dragons the kings of the world.

  It wasn’t our nearly impenetrable armor, talons like swords, or breath which could obliterate our enemies that set us at the apex of the food chain. No, it was the magic which boiled throughout our blood which made dragons what we were. Lesser beings might use magic, but we dragons were magic.

  That heritage came from the dragon dream. It awakened within my mind as I grew longer and stronger. It would be hard to explain what that means to beings with such fleeting lives as you humans have. But, suffice it to say, that it is what all dragons of a given lineage share. The dragon dream is our birthright. It is a heritage of knowledge, innate abilities, and an absolute assurance of our place in the world.

  As a dragon, I was born with all of the knowledge of my ancestors. I possessed their memories and held the potential to perform any of their magic. My body needed only to grow strong enough to hold all the necessary mana while my mind expanded to absorb more of the dragon dream.

  Most of the time, it was like a vague awareness in the back of my head. I simply knew things. And one of the things that I knew was that in the future I would know more.

  Now, I was only one of two left from my clutch. Siblings who I’d played with, cuddled with, and fought with were gone. Some by my claw or fang—though I took no joy in it—but life is hard for a young dragon. Dragons cultivate an image of indestructibility. It is, of course true, that we are the greatest of all mortal races, but the dirty little secret remains that we can be killed.

  Oh sure, the eldest of my kind are feared, not just by lonely princesses, mischievous donkeys, or small villages, but by entire nations. Yet life never starts out that way. We may become the greatest of apex predators, but we have to claw and scorch our way to the top, first. If a dragon someday sits upon a massive pile of shiny golden coins it is because they’ve earned that right.

  When mother was with us, we were safe, but she still had to go and hunt for us. Then, we were subject to burrow worms, phoenixes, and other cowardly predators who like to raid a dragon’s nest. After a few years, though, we grew strong enough that most predators preferred seeking easier prey. At that point, other dragons became our greatest threat. And not just any dragons, it was our clutch mates we feared the most.

  It is difficult to describe to you coddled little apes what it is like to fight your clutch mates. We fight for dominance and survival. At first it was a game, the first birthright of a dragon—the struggle for life. I was given a chance, nothing more. Beyond that, I fought for and claimed everything that I was becoming.

  Mother fed us, but the older we got, the less food she brought—or perhaps it was simply that we were all growing so fast, that we outgrew what she was willing to share with us. Dragons are not known for their maternal instincts, so it was a wonder that she kept coming back for that first twenty years to feed us, even if the trips became less and less frequent.

  Once we strayed from the nest, there were other predators we had to deal with. The nomadic tribes of the desert greatly valued our scales. The brilliant blue of those scales was used for potions, dyes, and armor. Far worse, though, were the adventurers. Fortunately, they were few and far between.

  A mother dragon never lays her eggs inside her own lair, because she doesn’t wish to share her hoard with her offspring. Nor does she want to have us ranging out from that lair and bringing back unwelcome guests. So, my mother’s nest was nothing but a cave deep in a rocky escarpment, high in the Taleian deserts.

  If adventurers found out about a dragon nest, though, it was never safe. Some of the fools would likely have attacked, even if mother had been there. I knew through the dragon dream that we were valued by wizards, to power their enchantments and as reagents for their spells. Some had even sought to tame a dragon. I scoffed whenever I thought of that, but my ancestors’ recollections contained memories of seeing men or women riding upon the backs of dragons.

  That was probably where it all began for me. I always got the sense that I was a little different, but I couldn’t help it. Something about the manlings made me curious. Thus, when I escaped the final attack upon our nest at the young, impressionable age of fifty, I hadn’t seen my mother in decades. Nor had I ever seen another dragon, other than my clutch mates… well, not including the dragon dream.

  I was strong enough to be a young adult, for I had reluctantly slain two of my nest fellows and absorbed their energy. I had done the same to many other creatures in the region around the nest. It honed my instincts to hunt, and stoked the lust for power that all dragons feel. More than that, it was a necessary part of how dragons grow. The flesh of lesser beasts filled my belly, but it was their life force and magic which I needed most.

  That power had begun to form into my core. It would take time, but it was the beginning of becoming something more. It was also what made me the strongest of the remaining dragons in my clutch. Enough so that I was able to live in peace with my sister. She and I were all that remained and the world was likely grateful that only two dragons survived from our clutch of ten dragons.

  The day came, though, when adventurers found our cave. I had stopped thinking of it as mother’s nest. It was now my cave—one I shared with my sister. This was a hard day to remember, because it made me feel small. The adventurers were simply too strong.

  That feeling would fuel my growth in the future.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe I could have killed any one of them—if they had been alone—but rather, the way they worked together. When I battered the one wearing the shiny armor like a turtle, his wounds disappeared as their priest healed him. Divine magic is foreign to my kind, but I could feel the touch of the gods on that one.

  Then, there was the one who kept sneaking up behind me. She managed to find tender spots between my scales with her little claw—a dagger, I think humans call it. It pierced my flesh and drew my blood, which infuriated me. The wounds were far from fatal, but most certainly were painful. I had to struggle not to lose myself to a blood-rage. Who were these tiny, soft creatures to hurt me so?