Scorag

By Doug Allwright

After a fire in the swamp, Scorag is tasked with Theo and Jude to find a new source of Keros trees. The trees fuel the dragons' flames which they use to harvest their food.
During the dangerous journey they have to use all of their talents to survive an exploding mountain and battle their enemies in the jungle and the river.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Doug Allwright
• Release date: May 31, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301048373

Doug Allwright

I have been writing since 1993. I love short stories and have had some media publishing success with them. My own experience with Desktop Publishing has produced three anthologies for a local writing group. I have been a member of the Swanwick Writing School for 20 years. At present I am persevering with a new full length thriller before starting a rewrite on one that failed to make the grade.

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Scorag

Published by Doug Allwright at Smashwords.

Copyright 2013 Doug Allwright

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1: Interrupted Harvest

Scorag watched the Gatherers with envy. From where he stood in the High Cave the line of red-scaled dragons beneath looked like a file of giant ants. He could see them cross the dew-laden grass of the play area and head into the forest. He knew before dark they would return, shouldering their fresh collections of logs, bark, nuts and roots. He hated being different.

In the distance, above the lush treetops, a dirty grey halo hovered around the neck of Mount Grumble. Even the sleeping volcano breathed hotter than Scorag. He snorted, and two distorted rings of frozen mist glistened in the shade of the cliff face before vaporising in a patch of sunlight.

At thirty seasons, his scales should have darkened from infant orange to the seaweed green of a mature Seed-Cracker. Instead they had diffused to the colour of damp leaves and developed purple edges. No one could contest his struggles as a young dragon to belch the intense white flame of youth, but the harder he had tried just the colder his breath had become.

Redada, his mother, had been sympathetic. But Scorag still recalled his father's angry growl. 'What sort of dragon is he? I can't train him as a Ranger. Without a flame how will he defend himself?'

Now, ten seasons later, father Trantor's anger had been replaced by pride, for Scorag had been persuaded to act as a Fire-Fighter by the Minatran Secondary Council.

On this day a flock of Fruit-Munchers had arrived over the swamp. At first they circled overhead, but this quickly changed to a brown arrowhead as they swooped for their morning feed, showing that all was well. Not that Scorag had expected anything different on the first day of Gathering.

He kept his head up as he returned down the path remembering a day when he had been less careful. Panting hard from a climb, his breath had coated the damp rock with ice. That visit had ended in a scale-raising tailspin — and a broken toe.

Scorag shambled into the Eating Cave. 'Greetings,' he grunted to the pink-scaled Server at the entrance. Being woken up to check the caves after an earthshake in the night had left him tired and grumpy.

The Server answered with a sleepy grin adding a flick of respect with his tail spike. Scorag shrugged it away. At school, the Server had been the ringleader of those who had called him useless. He remembered that same tail spike prodding places no tail spike should ever prod. To his surprise, the talk in The Eating Cave was mainly about the earthshake. He didn't think it had been that big. Squatting opposite Blueridge he asked, 'Much damage?' The Sheriff looked up.

'Naw. Bit of landslip into Small Lake. That will need clearing. Know more when the Gatherers get back tonight.'

Scorag envied Blueridge who had been in charge of the rescue of `73 when a great shake had blocked one of the Sleeping Caves. Being between seasons, the cave had been full. Blueridge had deputised the Heaters and woken some of the Seed-Crackers. Under his direction, the Heaters had warmed up the heaviest rocks. Judging the pinkness to perfection, Blueridge had guided the white flames from the Seed-Crackers to split the boulders and clear the blockage. Not one dragon had been lost. For his efforts, Blueridge had been granted a permanent place on the Secondary Council.

'Nothing for me to do then?'

The Sheriff rolled to his feet. Hardly moving his jaw he growled, 'Not at the moment. Let you know.'

'What about Small Lake?'

'Got some youngsters clawing it free. Punishment work.'

The Fire-Fighter watched the Law-Keeper waddle towards the exit. Slow but thorough, that was Blueridge. He scraped the last of the chestnut flakes off his slate, waved to the Server and followed.

After a quick nap on the play area, Scorag was half way back to the lookout when he heard the commotion. In front of the caves a crowd was staring towards the forest.

He looked and saw two of the Gatherers returning. Dark smoke streamed from their nostrils as they gasped their way towards the enclave. Changing direction he arrived at the entrance just behind them.

'One of the Stink Pools is burning!' The first Gatherer panted, facing the forest to keep the fumes out of the cave.

The Fire-Fighter felt the hot breath of panic from the crowd and commanded, 'Calm down, all of you.' He knew that if the dragons lost control they would be a danger to themselves and others, with flames going in all directions.

'But the wind might blow the smoke towards the Gatherers. They won't be able to breathe properly.'

'Why didn't one of you go to warn them?'

'It was quicker to come here. And we both came in case one had an accident.' Scorag nodded, but deep down he thought a