“How big do you think the Civilization Before was?” Don Espino asked as he, Kazzandra, and Deldric walked together, following Hiln as he hacked his way through a particularly thick part of the jungle with a machete that he didn’t use as a regular weapon, but more for its originally intended plant-clearing purpose.

Both dwarves had been silent since D.R. & Associates had parted company with the Harmonizers after leaving the lost colony of Lunchmeat. Don Espino thought that they were mourning the loss of Gayle’s beard. Loss of a beard was a terrible loss of honor to a dwarf, either male or female, at least to the traditional females. Some female dwarves who were raised in human cities eschewed facial hair, even going so far as to use make-up on occasion as did the females of other races. Gayle was traditional through and through. In her culture, dwarven criminals were shaved as a mark of their conviction as criminals.

Ahead of the two mages and the psychic, Hiln grunted as he hacked through a particularly stubborn area of foliage. He spoke up for the first time in a couple of hours.

“It would seem that the Civilization Before might still be around in some form. Lunchmeat isn’t thousands of years old, or even centuries old.”

Deldric stroked his short-styled gnomish beard thoughtfully. “If this Dreadcastle is so completely covered by jungle that you can barely find it if you don’t know it’s there, then that didn’t happen quickly.”

“The Colonial Mappers Guild who surveyed Jasmia from their skyships didn’t find any trace of cities or artificial structures when Jasmia was chosen to colonize,” said Espino.

“They wouldn’t have if it was all covered by jungle,” Kazzie said.

“Somebody carved that proclamation from Sir Rictor Mortisse and claimed to be the Lord of Dreadcastle in a wall in Lunchmeat, and it wasn’t done thousands of years ago.”

Deldric snapped his fingers and exclaimed excitedly, “Maybe Sir Rictor is an undead. The original Civilization Before may be gone, but there could be some undead that continued, like liches or vampires. With a name like Sir Rictus, maybe he’s a death knight.”

“We could ask him what happened to the Civilization Before,” Espino now became excited as well.

“I am in no hurry to make the acquaintance of any death knight, lich, or vampire.” Rave’s voice came from the rear of the group.

“Nor I,” came Natasha’s voice.

A grunt of agreement even came from the taciturn Gayle in the rear.

“Well, for now, let’s make some acquaintances in Treetown. I think we’re here.”

When the others had caught up to Hiln in the front of the party, they emerged into a huge clearing, almost a half mile in circumference, filled with large, sturdy-looking, well-built huts and wigwams. There was no wall around this settlement keeping dinosaurs out. On the contrary, several of the great beasts slowly lumbered through the clearing among the buildings and the mostly human-looking inhabitants. Don Espino saw a couple hundred humans of every skin color and body build that humans came in, most clad in nothing but loincloths, even the females, going about their business in the village. Some of them were even riding the dinosaurs bareback.

Around the circumference of the clearing, the trees were especially tall, the tallest ones Espino had seen so far in his short time on Jasmia. He heard excited cries of “Ho!” and “Hoooooo!” as some of the humans were rapidly hoisted on ropes high up to treehouse buildings and walkway bridges over a hundred feet in the air. Other ropes quickly but gently returned other humans to the ground. 

A muscular, blonde, blue-eyed woman, her hair pulled back from a face with designs either painted or tattooed there, called to them from astride a stegosaurus. She stood on the beast’s back since there was not really room to sit. Situated between the dino’s two rows of bony plates along its back, she held onto one on each side as if she would holding onto the handrails of a narrow staircase or the guideropes of a rope bridge.

“Welcome to Treetown, travelers. From whence do you hail?”

“We’re from Newtown,” answered Hiln. “We’re here to consult with the Hierophant.”

“She is down at the pond, playing,” answered the Treetown woman with a big smile. “It’s over that little hill there.”

Hiln looked in the direction that the dino rider pointed, then turned to face the rest of D.R. & Associates. “Well, this way then, folks. The Hierophant is…playing.”

The dino rider woman just smiled and laughed as she urged her stegosaurus forward past the Associates.

Don Espino was surprised there were no guards. The stego rider hadn’t even asked their names. As the Associates passed through the clearing, some inhabitants waved at them and called friendly greetings, but no one seemed to care that a well-armed and capable looking party of strangers who hadn’t been vetted in any way were just strolling through their colony. He also noticed that none of the dinos in Treetown were of a predatory nature. They were all herbivores as far as he could see.

When the Associates rounded the large hill near the center of the clearing that their stego-riding greeter had indicated, they saw a large pond, large enough to be permanent even in times of less-than-normal rain, certainly large enough to have a population of fish. A small brontosaurus was standing in the center of the pond. The water came up high on the animal’s flanks. About two dozen children laughed, giggled, and played in, on, and around the bronto. One child climbed up on the dino’s neck and then dived into the water, whooping with joy. Others climbed up its tail to walk along the reptile’s large spine until they found a suitable spot to sit down and then slide down the creature’s side into the water below. Most of the children were human, but a couple were noticeably half-elves. One was even a halfling.

Espino’s heart leaped in his chest. He was suddenly struck with an urge to strip off his mage stuff, his weapons, and his adventuring gear so that he could join in the fun. He had never seen such carefree, free-spirited fun. It wasn’t that children in the Great Magocracy didn’t have fun, or laugh, or play. They certainly did. But it wasn’t like this. Games and fun were competitive in the Great Magocracy. Or educational. Or both. There was always a lesson to be learned or a competitive placement to earn.

Suddenly a full-blooded elven girl, who looked about ten years old by human standards, but like Espino was certainly over one hundred years old, emerged from where she had been diving under the water. Pushing her long black hair from eyes, she looked right at the Associates and smiled warmly.

“Hello!” she said as she bobbed up and down a bit as she treaded water. “I dreamt of you last night. You’ve come from Newtown and you want to consult with me. I am the Hierophant of Treetown.”