“My wyvern cannot traverse the Gate without special protection. The spell that would protect him would require several amber periods- I’m sorry, three days- to prepare. I require a steed; a fast steed. I must go to the Lachinor,” Calaiz continued.
“My lord, there are much better places to visit in Donothor. Let me take you to Hillesdale, the center of the dwarves’ provinces. From there I will take you to Tippy Rarrie- we’ll catch some fish,” Mobbick suggested.
“I don’t come to Donothor for sport, my little friend. I appreciate your offer. I would very much like to go fishing with you one day. My task takes me a long way from Tippy Rarrie. Have you a war horse?” Calaiz asked.
Mel awakened.
He stretched and said, “I just had the most wonderful dream. I was dancing with a beautiful Gray Elf in a bar in Cam…”
“At ease, Mel! You are in the presence of our king’s ally, the lord of Ooranth. He has honored us with a visit. Will you go to the farrier and get the strongest horse in our stables?” Mobbick ordered.
“Yes, sergeant!” Mel answered sharply.
Soon the young Ranger returned with a magnificent gray stallion.
“Dann will carry you well. Old Roscoe, the sorcerer, rides this horse from time to time. The sorcerer says the name honors the memory of a very good friend. Roscoe always calls the horse he rides Dann; he calls the horse’s rear Boomer. We can ever let our lieutenant know that. It would cause a fight. Roscoe and Boomer have always been a bit at odds,” Mobbick continued.
Calaiz tolerated the dwarf’s small talk but didn’t understand the comments.
The Draith lord said, “Thank you.”
He walked over to the stunning animal and commented, “This is a beautiful animal. Its rear is a lot better looking than the old dwarf you call Boomer. I just met him at my home.”
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