East into the Dragon's Spines

You once hiked part of the lower dragon's spines with your father and a small group of woodsmen looking for a place to set up a logging camp. The foothills of the mountains are heavily forested, but a camp had to be situated where the logs could be moved to on of the many small streams that flooded in the spring to have any chance of moving the timber to any market. The hike was grueling and you had ropes and climbing tools to help you.

You are much stronger now than you were as a lad, but without the proper equipment you are unsure how far you could get. Also now you have an elf companion to look after. Looking at her dancing gaily in your green tunic and tiny sandals it doesn't look like she is going to be much help. With a grunt of irritation you search several of the wrecked outbuildings and find several coils of rope and a small clawed hammer that looks somewhat similar to the climbing picks you remember.

The elf maid can come if she likes you decide, but your mission to the druids has to take precedence over her recovery. It could be you think optimistically that a few days of freedom from the goblin slavers will be enough to heal what ails her. You certainly wouldn't mind feeling her lips wrap around your cock again, and maybe even get to have more fun with the sexy sprite.

The first leg of the trip passed through a mixture of woodlands and scattered pastures and meadows. In normal times the journey would have been pleasant, few wolves came this far down into the foothills and the orcs and goblins that had plagued the lands during your grandpa’s days had been driven into the deepest swamps and most uninhabitable hills.

However with the chaos caused by the reptilian demons that swept over this corner of the Isle of the Seven Stones has disrupted the peace that you had always known. The goblins that captured the elfin beauty by your side were evidence of that, and the villages that just a week ago would have been ideal places to spend the night were now either shouldering corpse filled nightmares, or targets that would be ravaged by foragers looking to supply the main army.

Despite the added stress of the dangers, you find yourself enjoying the bright spring time sunshine and the feel of the soft loam beneath your feet. Your worries about your new companion fade as the day goes on, she has no trouble matching your pace and several times her sharp eyes spot sweet red strawberries that her nimble fingers pick with a swiftness that you cannot hope to match.

The second time you pause to share a handful of the fruit, you point to your chest and say “Hans”. The elf nods happily and offers you a handful of berries. “Hans, you repeat. Touching your chest again.” Taking your hand you gently touch her above the tempting swell of her breasts. “What’s your name?”
You ask gently. It takes a few attempts, but by the time you leave the clearing you are pretty sure that her name is “Tri’lanna”. It sounds like an elvish name and she happily responds to it when you call her call her by that name.

As Tri’lanna and you move higher up the foothills you can see more and more of the devastation left by the demon armies beneath you. Several pillars of smoke mark what must have been villages like yours and at times you think you can make out the glitter of a huge army snaking slowly to the South. Major pass lies several days travel and they might well be heading for that. The further from you the better you decide as you move through yet another high pasture. Now you only have to worry about goblins, wolves, ogres, and all the other dangers of the high Dragon Spines.

That evening you lay the ground cloth over a pile of springy branches that you cut from a nearby fir. A small fire kept the mosquitoes from your head and you laid out blankets for you and Tri’lanna as you ate the last of your bread. You offered Tri’lanna half of your last sausage, but she covered her mouth as she pushed the cured meat away.