Book Two Letter Six

My Dearest Nephew,

           

First off let me say that this letter is once again confidential and the contents are not to be voiced to anyone, anyone at all. I have lately attended the very war-meeting I told you of in my latest letter. Two Dragons of a Southern look landed outside my cave the other day and, with my consent, blindfolded me and led me with my jaws around one of their tails, to the meeting place of the council. Obviously, the location of this meeting must be a carefully-guarded secret lest an enemy seek to worm it out of one of the council-members.

I was taken to an underground chamber where my blindfold was removed. It was the pithiest of blacks down there, only enough light to see the surface of a large pool of water filling most of the cave. There were many other Dragons in the cave, I could tell, by hearing and smell. ESPECIALLY by smell. Over ten Dragons all packed into one, relatively small, enclosed space. Yes, I could tell by smell that there were others in the cave.

Anyway, the Dragon bringing the council to order greeted us all and gave out a few announcements and informed us that as there were numerous Dragons that had been called to the war council but had been unable to fly the distance to the meeting place, they would be joining us by a method of water communication known as ‘Rippleread’. Not to seem disrespectful of the head of the council, but it sounded like a knock-off of Skrying. Honestly, these new-age inventions, nothing but clumsy attempts at making a new thing better than the old.

Well, I looked into the pool and saw a Dragon staring back at me. In the darkness it was difficult to tell, but it appeared to simply be my own reflection. I tried speaking to the dragon in the pool, wondering whether this might merely be a Dragon with a stunning resemblance to myself communicating by Rippleread, but the image merely copied my every word and movement which told me what was really going on here. The Dragons were doing a clever job of it, but I saw through the charade. It was this new Rippleread invention! It was a total failure, couldn’t work to save its weeds! This new technology; so much trouble for naught.

After this I struck up a conversation with an excitable sort sitting next to me. It would seem that his Rippleread connection had been sound and that he had gotten into an argument with the Dragon on the other end as he seemed to have attempted to burn the image out of the water. Very excitable sort he was.

He was quite intelligent I found upon entering into the conversation. We debated for a short while over Draconian leadership, pondered the infinite mysteries of the mail system and had just entered into a heated debate on the subject of the twin-problems of Militial leadership in battle and the danger of Cottontooth to young Dragons, when the meeting was adjourned.

On the way out we were once again blindfolded as we prepared for the return-flight. The line leading out of the cave was held up somewhat by some occurrence involving the deliberate tripping-up of a Dragon and the subsequent fiery retaliation of the tripped party directed at the tripping party.

After this brawl was settled, the line went quite smoothly without hardly any other hitches, save for an occasion involving (or so I am told) a ramp-like formation of rocks leading to an icy pool, a sneeze of gale force and the unfortunate placing a partially-frozen puddle on the tunnel floor. Fortunately, this incident did not last too long and it is possible that there might have been no permanent injuries.

Before too long I was back in my own cave and prepared for a slow day with possibly a few wanderers asking my advise on their problems as so often happens to us Eastern Dragons. However I was met with an unpleasant surprise upon returning to the cave. My brother-in-law once removed, Remdrix the Mad had dropped in for a visit with his entire family.

You may not have heard me mention Remdrix before and there is very good reason for that. He is a Yovian by birth married to your uncle Scaligar’s older sister. Your uncle Scaligar refused to speak to her ever again after this and has since pasted over her section of the family tree and removed her name from all family records, considering the fact that one of his relatives would marry a Yovian as a deep and personal insult.

Well, Remdrix and his brood have dropped in and have expressed their wishes to stay for a visit of three week’s duration.

Pray for me.

And for Remdrix for that matter.

I swear, if he subjects my cave to the heinous fate that has befallen his own home, I shall open the gates of Hell.

Your servant, mentor and uncle,

Semithino