Wyrms of the North: Saryndalaghlothtor, "Lady Gemcloak"

Dragon Magazine #254
By Ed Greenwood with supplementary material provided by Sean K Reynolds

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The dwarves dubbed the moody but essentially gentle dragon "Lady Gemcloak" for her glittering appearance . . .

Until the night of the dragon duel, many citizens of Mirabar, longtime mining capital of the Sword Coast North, were unaware that they'd acquired a dragon protector. It was a still, damp evening in spring (of the Year of the Tankard, 1370 DR). The proprietors of the Watchful Axe alehouse were just about to harness their mules to the "round-and-rounds" that turned the blades of large fans that cooled patrons of their rooftop beer garden, when a golden glow appeared in the air overhead. It rapidly became a line of fire, "as if a scimitar was carving an arc out of the sky, and letting fire beyond spill through," as one watcher put it.

The line became a rift -- an opening in the air -- and widened until it was as large across "as the length of the largest ships calling at Luskan to carry away the wares of Mirabar." Out of this fiery mouth flew a red dragon: an individual not seen before in the North, sages believe. None can agree on where it flew from or by what means it opened such a large portal in the sky (though the opinions most often muttered concerned the "crazed Cult of the Dragon mages" and "dabbling Red Wizards"), but all agree that it was large, sleek, and hungry.

As the rift that had brought it closed like a purposeful eyelid, the red dragon clapped its wings, reared upright in triumph, and swooped down on the city like a playful child. Roaring and banking over the tiled rooftops to slap tiles and slates alike into ruin with its tail, it laid waste to a dozen homes before the frantic booming of a bell was heard from the Crags just southwest of the city (specifically, from the bald height known as Crostar's Vigil). Moments later, another dragon erupted into the air from somewhere behind that sentinel pinnacle, "glittering like a shower of gold" in the sunset, and plunged down upon the red wyrm, taking it completely by surprise and pouncing on it with such fury that the red dragon was driven onto the flag spires of no less than six residences and transfixed.

The red freed itself with frantic thrashings, but not until after the newcomer, a crystal dragon, had bitten and torn viciously and enthusiastically at its underbelly. Dragon blood fell smoking into the streets as the red wyrm rose heavily into the air, flapping its wings in grim and obvious pain, and tried to fly away east up the Mirar.

The crystal wyrm pounced again, demonstrating its agility to the watching citizenry by folding its wings and dropping like a stone to avoid a sudden gout of fire and a furious midair charge, then buzzed around the red dragon as a small bird harries a crow out of its territory, biting and raking until its foe turned away. The crystal dragon darted after it, striking again and again, until the red dragon, trailing ribbons of blood, fled at last out to sea.

The crystal dragon followed, presumably to watch and prevent the red dragon's return, until its exhausted foe plunged into the waves and drowned. That red wyrm has been seen no more in Mirabar.

Speculation in the city as to the identity and whereabouts of the crystal dragon was intense, and normally shunned prospectors and miners were gifted with copious drinkables and questioned about the mysterious wyrm. The story that emerged, once corroborations had been made and the more obvious fancies discarded, is thus: The crystal dragon Saryndalaghlothtor was now lairing in the Crags just southwest of Mirabar, so close as to overlook the city. Her recent arrival was connected to the cessation of goblin raids on outlying steads and caravan encampments in the vicinity.

This unaccustomed peace befell shortly after overeager goblin mining caused an entire shoulder of mountainside to collapse into an underlying cavern (no doubt crushing scores of goblins in the process), and popular belief in Mirabar was that the "lurking goblins of the Crags" (long the bane of local dwarves) had well-nigh exterminated themselves. The truth was less tidy, but as dramatic: The collapse created a huge cave mouth in the side of one of the Crags, laying open a vast cavern that had hitherto been the center of the gem mine inhabited by the Kreeth goblin tribe.

That cavern led into a string of large caves, from which many mining tunnels ran outwards into soft, damp rock pockmarked by many geodelike natural chambers lined with gem crystals. For years the goblins had tunneled steadily onwards and outwards, mining abundant gems of many sorts; rubies and beljurils were among their most numerous yields. The spawn of Kreeth tunneled slyly into the cellars of Mirabar, too, and made many night forays into the city, in disguise, whispering into the ears of the most desperate and impoverished humans. After many unsuccessful attempts to subvert citizens, the goblins reached secret agreements with some of the more impoverished Mirabarran gem-traders (in particular, the once-proud but now poor human families of Gulathkond and Jammaer), supplying them with gems brought directly into their cellars. In return, the humans paid the goblins handsomely in food, weapons, furs, leatherwork, and mining tools, covering their activities with false words of new alliances with prospectors working out of the Ten Towns.

Freed from the need to undertake dangerous hunts for food on the surface and in the Underdark, the Kreeth goblins flourished, striking against any dwarves or human prospectors of Mirabar unwise enough to investigate the Crags too closely. Tales of their savagery and traps spread around the city, and few folk felt moved to investigate matters personally. "Breakneck" pits -- deep, narrow clefts equipped with sharpened stone spurs and covered with old tarpaulins concealed under handfuls of gravel, and held up with rotting saplings -- were commonplace Kreeth work, and they still stud the heights of the Crags within sight of the city, awaiting the unwary.

The appearance of the cave changed all that. It occurred at a time of year when many young, displaced, or simply restless dragons wandered the vast wilderlands of the North, hoping that the legends of the mighty wyrms who claim them as domains were overblown or out-of-date, and that new territories could be carved out of the seemingly endless forested hills and crags.

One such wanderer, an adult crystal she-dragon, found the raw, new scar in the rock almost at the gates of Mirabar and boldly dove down into the dazed remnants of the goblins, whom she slaughtered at will. They were too few and too terrified to strike at her from their small side tunnels as Saryndalaghlothtor roamed the larger caves, devouring exposed gem deposits and thinking she'd found some sort of crystal dragons' paradise. It had been a long and storm-wracked flight from the wastes of northern Raurin, but the ordeal, it seemed, had been worth it.

The arrival of the dragon had gone unnoticed in Mirabar, but the rumbling collapse that preceded it by a day or so had not. Many Mirabarran dwarves thought it imperative that the tumult be investigated, but the known menace of the goblins made necessary the whelming of a warband; eager younglings were sternly prevented from "just hiking up for a look" by their elders.

In the end, the armed dwarven force reached the cave at about the same time that the surviving goblins began to dart out of the smallest crawl-tunnels, where the dragon could not go, and strike at her in vicious counterattacks. A few dwarves swung their axes and charged the dragon, seeking glory, but their elders wrestled them down with the harsh command, "Goblins first!"

The battle that followed was a long and bloody rout of dodging and chasing through the riven Kreeth mine, but in the end the last of the goblins were driven out or slain, and the dwarves warily approached the crystal dragon. One of the boldest, Haelbaran Stormshoulder, bade his fellows give him some time for parley, and then strode out and shared a dream with the wyrm: If she'd grant the Mirabarran dwarves permission to mine freely in her lair, defend it against intruders, and even to dwell in certain of its reaches, they'd feed her all the gems and metals she desired.

The dragon considered Stormshoulder's words, then accepted the bargain with calm language. Not quite believing their good fortune, and knowing that many Mirabarrans would be rather less accepting of a dragon dwelling nigh their gates, the dwarves elected to keep word of the deal as quiet as possible. Many told relatives in the city, but it's likely that not a single human heard of it. Humans, in particular, regard Mithral Hall as a foe endangering their traditional prosperity; it's likely they'd be even more furious with a dwarven hold right next door. So in the city, the returning Mirabarran dwarves gave out the grim news that the Crags held no new mine, but only "goblin despoil and devastation" that would take years to cleanse, and was best avoided. Mirabar heard and believed, and the House of the Axe was founded.

The dwarves dubbed the moody but essentially gentle dragon "Lady Gemcloak" for her glittering appearance, and later "The Axemother," as they came to see her as the "mother" under whose protection they could found a new city or tribe. She seemed happy to eat flawed and shattered gems and low-grade, leaden metal ores and rust scraps, and she and the dwarves soon came to trust each other. Word is spreading among dwarves across the North (and as far south as Waterdeep and Daggerford) of "a new hold" where dwarves of no famous clan or lineage can win a place among fellows in prosperity and ever- growing power. If the swelling ranks of dwarves dwelling all around her bothers Lady Gemcloak, she gives no sign of it.

The only thing that does seem to irk her is her feeble magic. When unaided by magic items, she can cast only a handful of low-powered spells without aid, though she has quite a roster of such spells to choose among. Dwarves who've talked long with her (in particular, Tarltus Ulforge, and his sister Shaelee) say that one of the things that caused Saryndalaghlothtor to roam the north in the first place was the legend of Argaut's Brain.

Briefly put, this recurring belief holds that anyone who finds and eats the brain of this long-dead (but magically preserved) archwizard gains his mastery of magic. Elminster confirms that this legend was born of wild apprentices' tales and given strength by an even more fanciful ballad; as far as he knows, the resting place of Argaut is lost, and he was no better preserved than most men who die suddenly. Moreover, the central belief, he insists, is false.

Volo also believes the tale is wishful thinking. Some secret writings happened to briefly fall into his hands at a recent nobles' revel in Waterdeep: a report of experiments carried out by certain members of the Arcane Brotherhood. Their conclusions indicate that devouring dead mages' brains leads sometimes to illness or even insanity and sometimes transfers confused memories (scenes of places, people, or even events), but never coherent information or lore.

Just how seriously Saryndalaghlothtor searched for Argaut's brain, or believed the tale, the dwarves know not . . . and Lady Gemcloak isn't telling.

She is one of the crystal dragons who can communicate with any intelligent creature -- and, according to the dwarves, she is in no hurry to roam again or to acquire a mate. Saryndalaghlothtor considers a very small area (Mirabar and a modest stretch of the Crags) her domain, but she defends it fiercely. Other dragons, predators of all sorts -- including greedy humans -- and anyone the House of the Axe dwarves don't want around are considered unwanted intruders and dealt with accordingly. Lady Gemcloak is vicious in battle and enjoys maiming and spectacularly slaying foes. (Dismemberments and crushings are favorite tactics.)

Saryndalaghlothtor's Lair

As is the way of dwarves, the inhabitants of the House of the Axe have named the larger caverns, strategic passageways, and waymoots of the ever-expanding gem mine. Most of these names they keep secret from outsiders, but Volo learned that Saryndalaghlothtor can traverse at least six linked caverns. The westernmost (and innermost) the dwarves call "Home-hold," and it serves as their meeting place and staging/work area. Moving eastward, one comes to "Wyrmslumber" (where the Axemother likes to curl up and sleep on a bed of gems; it is the largest of all the caverns, but it has an eastern opening that is a tight squeeze for Saryndalaghlothtor and would halt the passage of any larger dragon), "Theller's Anvil" (though Theller and his anvil are now elsewhere, in smaller caves to the west), "Blackrun," "Eldock's Rest," and "The Maw," where the cave mouth created by overzealous goblin mining looks east out of the shoulder of Bryn Crag.

The dwarves have left undisturbed the various goblin pit traps on the surface slopes around the lair. In addition, they added a few of their own, including "roll-boulder" deadfalls on high ledges all around the Maw (a succession of large rocks that can be rolled off a ledge to plunge down on intruders below) and "rockfalls" (stone slab ceilings on the major passages leading away from the Maw -- including the Slither, the main route used by Saryndalaghlothtor -- that can be winched aside to allow tons of loose rock above them to fall and block the way).

An underground spring feeds pools in the southwesternmost reaches of the mine, and the dwarves are thought to cache many of the best gems to the northwest. Although the House dwarves have fewer elders and "old rank" families than established dwarven realms, a few "Dwarves of the Ring" hold absolute authority. Prominent among the more active and warlike are Corthold Flamehand and his sister Ieilhalla; strong among the more stay-at-home and artistic are the master forgers Theller and Auldrymbrei. They seldom bark commands unless the House is at war, but dwarves who disobey or ignore them are expelled from the House. The Ring has kept iron control over the release of gems, keeping prices high and reducing the chance that some greedy human force or other -- the Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan, for example -- might learn how rich the House is and decide to seize it for their own. For the same reason, the Ring absolutely forbids visitors to penetrate the House beyond the Maw or to take up residence in the mine.

The dwarven accommodations are located in smaller outlying tunnels, mainly to the north (where anyone tunneling or skulking in from Mirabar is noticed), and they are always guarded by way-sentries equipped with alarm gongs and warhorns. Many sentry posts are equipped with small rockfall devices that the sentries can trigger to bar the way they guard and prevent invasions.

Saryndalaghlothtor's Domain

The Maw opens to the surface on the eastern face of Bryn Crag, which stands just west of the Long Road, shielded from the view of travelers by Old Man Crag (so named for its resemblance to the weathered face of a giant buried in the earth up to his neck, staring endlessly east across the road at Barlaerl's Crag). From this point, Saryndalaghlothtor roams the water-meadows of the River Mirar north over the city as far as the eye can see (about six miles), as well as a sweep of the Crags from Tannath's Tor in the southwest to Ammirar's Blade to the northeast (a length of some nine miles and forty or so pinnacles and peaks ).

The Axemother cares little about human or dwarven activity in her domain that doesn't actually involve invading her lair with raised weapons and threatening words, but she reacts to any dragon or goblin incursion by bursting from her lair in all-out attack. She loves to pounce, but she isn't as reckless as she seems, and she can seldom be duped into plunging into a waiting trap or a situation where she can be cornered by a prepared and alert foe.

The Doings of Saryndalaghlothtor

Lady Gemcloak, like all of her kind, enjoys dining on metallic ores and gems of all sorts, but she indulges in occasional "blood meals" of goblins, wyverns, or other creatures who challenge her. She hunts the skies over Mirabar and down the Mirar valley and does not hesitate to pursue foes out to sea or over the Evermoors. The Mirar is her favorite watering-hole, though she often drinks from meltwater pools high in the Crags or the many small lakes that lie in the bogs to the north of the Mirar.

Saryndalaghlothtor spends a typical day dozing on her bed of gems chatting with dwarves (who bring her news of doings in Mirabar and the wider Sword Coast North, and who focus on traders passing through her domain in particular). She'll take to the air for a short "wingstretch and sniff the wind" flight (often at twilight or in concealing mists or rain) once every day or two if she can, and she takes an active interest in the development of the mine and her dwarven "children."

Saryndalaghlothtor's Magic

Among Lady Gemcloak's store of written spells are many beyond her mastery and a huge array of 1st-level spells. Most are old spells that are rarely found these days. She commands only a modest hoard but is known to possess a rare and powerful item, described hereafter, which she keeps well hidden, knowing she can't herself use its full effects but that they could be used against her to devastating effect.

Saryndalaghlothtor's Fate

Lady Gemcloak is likely to receive severe battle-testings at the hands of greedy adventurers (sponsored by Mirabarran mining families or the Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan, if by no one else), and might also be a magnet for dwarves desiring to join a "new" hold (free of old feuds and bitter clan memories) and goblins desiring revenge . . . and where goblins rush in, orcs usually follow.

Saryndalaghlothtor might swiftly perish if she rejects offers of alliances and aid from the Dragon Queen or other friendly wyrms (for instance, the reclusive Thalagyrt -- whom we'll look at next month -- possesses a spell, gemfire, that the Axemother would find very useful), dwarven adventuring bands, and the like -- for news of the whereabouts and gem-rich properties of her lair is certain to reach unfriendly draconic ears eventually. . . .

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About the Authors

Ed Greenwood claims that he can, and often does, speak to folk who don't have silver hair, magic swords, and spells up their sleeves that can sear -- or remake -- worlds. He just prefers his more memorable tavern encounters all over the Realms to what generally confronts him in the here-and-now.

Sean K Reynolds is a vegetarian who long ago ate four one-pound hamburgers in one afternoon. He would like to thank Steven Domkowski for his help in acquiring the original Dragon Magazine text for this article.

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