Crisp and cold air – and a warm dragon – the only way to travel.
We were traveling along above pillowy clouds, when Willie commenced counting backwards a series of five tens. As he began the count for the final ten, a break in the clouds opened below us. And upon sighting a tiny village in the crook of a brook, Dunfallon brought us down.
Before we could even dismount wee folk brandishing spears and swords, spilled out of the village and surrounded us. A calamity was averted by the timely arrival of Merlin who emerged from one of the tiny houses, growing in stature as he came.
At his friendly greeting towards us the wee folk backed down and dropped their warlike stance. Then the wizard introduced us to Emminie the chief of the Sprites. And the little fellow – one wary eye cocked towards our dragon, welcomed us to their village.
As our joy over finding Merlin mingled with our urgency, we (diplomatically, I hope) declined the wee folks offer of hospitality and took Merlin aside to talk.
Dunfallon briefed the wizard on his need to accompany us to appear before the Faerie Queen on Noralei’s behalf.
Merlin agreed. But revealed that he must first fulfill a promise to Emminie and his people. He went on to tell us that he had gone with them willingly when approached for his help. They were at their wits end over two problems. The first was the unseasonal cold – which he explained to them would eventually pass, and the second was a strange rumbling in the ground beneath their village. For this Merlin asked if we could take a side trip to see the trolls about their mining activity and whether it may be affecting the Sprite’s village.
I am afraid we rushed him out of there with the briefest of farewells to Emminie and the Sprites.