The guardians of the dragonpit - Franziska Lenz - E-Book

The guardians of the dragonpit E-Book

Franziska Lenz

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Beschreibung

Deep in the unforgiving heights of the Andes, a team of German archaeologists uncovers a centuries-old secret: the Sunstone, an artifact of immense power that could change the world forever. But the discovery comes at a price. Pursued by a brutal mercenary group and the mysterious "Sons of the Shadow", Emil Steinberg and his team fight not only for their survival, but also for the fate of humanity. However, there is more than just enemies lurking in the depths of the Dragonpit - an ancient power is awakening, and not everyone will escape the chamber's wrath. An adventure full of betrayal, intrigue and a dangerous truth that would have been better left hidden. A gripping thriller that blurs the lines between myth and reality.

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Seitenzahl: 137

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

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Title: The Guardians of the Dragonpit

Author: Franziska Lenz

Biography:

Franziska Lenz was born in Munich in 1982 and developed a passion for stories and adventure at an early age. After studying archaeology and ethnology at the Ludwig Maximilian University, she traveled to the most remote corners of the world and was inspired by the cultures and myths of other countries.

Her novels are characterized by exciting plots, profound characters and a carefully researched combination of history and fiction.

Chapter 1: The Descent

Dr. Jonas Falkenberg tugged at his tie as he walked through the marble-clad hallway of Heidelberg University. The familiar clack of his footsteps echoed off the high ceilings, but today the corridor felt endless. He stopped in front of the heavy wooden door of the press conference room, took a deep breath, and pulled his tie a little looser.

"This is going to be a bloody bloodbath," he muttered to himself and pushed open the door.

The room was packed. Journalists crowded around the podium, cameras were being hastily adjusted. Jonas had trouble suppressing the sweat that was already creeping down his neck. The air smelled of damp paper and cheap coffee.

"Dr. Falkenberg, here up front!" called a voice as he climbed onto the podium. Flashes briefly lit up his face. He was not prepared for such situations - he was an archaeologist, not a politician.

With a dry cough, he cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone: "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I will comment on the allegationsexpress."

But before he could continue, the first question shot out from the crowd: “Mr. Falkenberg, is it true that you illegally exported ancient artifacts from Turkey?”

Jonas froze. He had expected tough questions, but the directness took his breath away for a moment. "These allegations are completely unfounded," he began, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Really? There are reports that you have sold pieces on the black market!" Another voice rang out, this time louder, more demanding.

A murmur went through the room. Jonas felt the situation slipping away from him. He reached for the glass of water on the lectern, took a sip and began: "I have dedicated my life to archaeology. Everything I did was always in the name of research. If there were... discrepancies, it was due to... bureaucratic hurdles."

“Bureaucratic hurdles?” A reporter snorted contemptuously. “Turkey has filed an international extradition request against you!”

Jonas felt himself completely losing control. The journalists began to shout wildly,her questions became louder and more aggressive.

"This is over," Jonas finally growled, threw the microphone aside and stormed out of the room. The voices followed him into the hallway, but he ignored them.

The pub was small, dark and smelled of stale beer. Jonas sat at the bar, his third glass of whiskey in front of him. The room was barely full and the few guests paid him no attention.

In front of him lay his laptop, the screen of which showed a series of grim messages:

• From: Human Resources Office of the University of

Heidelberg

Subject: Your termination without notice

• From: Bank Heidelberg

Subject: Your arrears

Jonas snorted bitterly. "Damn it." He closed the laptop, leaned on the counter and ran his hand through his hair.

“Rough night?” asked the bartender, a broad-shouldered man with tattooed forearms.

Jonas raised his glass. “Give me another one. And save thelife wisdom."

“As you wish,” muttered the bartender and refilled his glass.

At that moment the door opened. Jonas only noticed the man coming in out of the corner of his eye. He was tall, slim, and his tailored suit shimmered in the dim light. He seemed out of place here - too well-groomed, too self-confident.

The stranger walked straight up to Jonas. “Dr. Falkenberg?”

Jonas raised his head, took a big sip of whiskey and answered grimly: “Who wants to know?”

"My name is Maximilian Greif." The man smiled politely, pulled up a stool and sat down next to him. "I have an offer that might interest you."

“If it’s not a bottle of whiskey, then no.” Jonas turned back to his glass.

“It’s about the treasure of Viracocha.”

Jonas froze. He slowly turned to Greif. "Viracocha? That's a myth. A legend that tourists buy to put money into the pockets of the locals."

"And what if it's not a myth?" Greif pulled out a small leather case and placed it on the counter. He carefully opened it so Jonas could take a look at the contents: a yellowed map covered in cryptic symbols.

Jonas' interest was piqued. He took the map and studied it more closely. "This looks real... where did you get this?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that I need someone to decipher the clues and find the treasure. And you, Dr. Falkenberg, are the best."

Jonas was skeptical. "And why should I help you? I'm not a treasure hunter, I'm an archaeologist."

Greif smiled coldly, pulled a check out of his pocket and pushed it toward Jonas. "250,000 euros. To start with."

Jonas stared at the sum, his heart beating faster. The money could solve all his problems. But he knew that an offer like this had a price.

“And if I refuse?” he finally asked.

Greif's smile disappeared. "Then accept your future as a failed alcoholic."

Jonas reached for the check, looked at it for amoment and then put it away. "When does it start?"

Greif stood up, straightened his jacket and said: "Pack your things, Dr. Falkenberg. We are flying to Peru tomorrow."

Chapter 2: A New Adventure

Dr. Jonas Falkenberg stood at the departure terminal, a worn backpack over his shoulder and a travel bag at his feet. The airport was crowded, the babble of voices and the monotonous announcement from the loudspeakers merged into a droning background noise. Jonas felt like a stranger in this sea of people.

He sipped a lukewarm coffee that he had gotten from the vending machine and peered into the crowd. Maximilian Greif was nowhere to be seen. Punctuality was evidently not one of his virtues.

“Mr. Falkenberg?”

The voice came from his side. Jonas turned around and saw a slender woman in a black leather jacket and ripped jeans. Her blonde hair was tied in a loose ponytail and her ice-blue eyes looked at him critically.

"Lena von Stein," she introduced herself and held out her hand to him. Her fingernails were short and unpainted, her hand strong and firm.

Jonas took his hand hesitantly. “And you are?”

"Your new partner." She grinned mockingly. "Or babysitter, depending on how you behave."

Jonas raised his eyebrows. "Did Greif send you?"

"You could call it that. He probably thought you might need a little help. You're not exactly the type to know your way around the wilderness."

Jonas felt his patience being tested. "I'm an archaeologist, not a Boy Scout. And what qualifies you?"

Lena shrugged. "Extreme athlete, former member of a mountain rescue unit, and I speak Spanish. Also, unlike you, I can handle a machete."

Jonas snorted, but suppressed an answer. Before he could ask any more questions, Maximilian Greif appeared. As always, he was impeccably dressed, his camel hair coat looking out of place among the travelers in thick winter jackets.

"Ah, Dr. Falkenberg, Miss von Stein! It's great that you've already found each other." He stepped closer, a thin smile on his lips. "I hope you're both ready. Our flight leaves in an hour."

"Maybe you could explain to me why we need a babysitter," Jonas said dryly, nodding toward Lena.

"Babysitter?" Lena laughed loudly. "If anyone needs to look after someone, I need to look after you, Doc."

Greif raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Calm down, both of you. Trust me, Mr. Falkenberg, Lena is a valuable addition to our team. You'll see."

The roar of the plane's engines was the only thing that covered the awkward silence between the three passengers. Jonas sat at the window, staring out and watching Europe disappear beneath them. Lena had made herself comfortable next to him, with headphones in her ears and a tablet on her knees.

Greif was sitting in the aisle, engrossed in a folder full of documents. He leafed through pages of maps, photos and handwritten notes. Jonas' curiosity finally won out.

“What do we actually know about this treasure?” he asked, leaning forward.

Greif looked up as if he had expected the question. "The treasure of Viracocha, supposedly a legacy of the Incas, is mentioned in numerous legends. It is said that it was never found by the Spanish. Some say it is gold and jewels, others claim it is something much more valuable."

"More valuable than gold?" Lena chimed in without taking off her headphones. "How about more details before we plunge into some godforsaken jungle hole?"

Greif pulled a map out of his folder. "Our first lead leads us to Cusco. There is an ancient text there that supposedly contains clues to the location of the treasure."

“An old text?” Jonas raised his eyebrows skeptically. “So you hired me for a scavenger hunt.”

"Not just any scavenger hunt, Dr. Falkenberg. One that could make you rich. And maybe... famous."

Jonas leaned back and folded his arms. "Famous. That worked wonderfully last time."

Lima welcomed them with oppressive heat and a mixture of exhaust fumes and sea air. The airport was chaotic, with people bustling around everywhere with luggage carts and loud Spanish.

“Welcome to Peru,” Lena murmured as she shouldered her backpack.

A black SUV was already waiting in front of the terminal. A driver, a taciturn man named Miguel, helped them with their luggage. Greif took the lead while Jonas looked around at the scenery.

The streets of Lima were a maze of honking cars and rattling motorbikes. Jonas immediately felt out of place.

"I hope it won't be this chaotic all the time," he said, looking at Lena, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

"Oh, Doc," she grinned, "this is nothing. Wait until we get to the Andes."

In the evening they reached Cusco. The city was at an altitude of over 3,000 meters, and Jonas immediately felt the thin air. Every step felt heavier, and aA dull pain throbbed behind his forehead.

“Altitude sickness?” Lena gave him a mocking look. “Drink coca tea, it helps.”

Their accommodation was a small hotel with wobbly beds and flickering lights. Jonas was too tired to complain. While Greif retreated to make further plans, Lena took Jonas to the hotel's small bar.

“Well, Doc,” she began as she ordered a Pisco Sour, “do you really believe in this treasure?”

Jonas hesitated. "I believe in history, in legends, in the truth behind myths. But treasures? They usually end in greed and bloodshed."

“Then we should probably prepare ourselves,” said Lena with a grin and raised her glass.

Jonas looked at her, then raised his glass. "To greed and bloodshed."

Chapter 3: The Secret of Cusco

The morning sun cast golden light on the winding streets of Cusco. The city had already woken up: street vendors were setting up their stalls, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and fried corn cakes was in the air. Jonas, Lena and Maximilian Greif fought their way through the hustle and bustle of people while their driver Miguel walked silently behind them.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” asked Lena, giving Greif a skeptical look.

"Absolutely," Greif replied coolly. "The antiquarian I spoke to has a copy of a manuscript that is said to have been written by one of the last Inca priests."

Jonas tugged at his scarf, which didn't provide him with enough warmth in the cool morning air. "Hopefully it's worth it. These alleys might as well be a labyrinth."

Finally they stopped in front of a nondescript building. The sign above the door was almost faded, but the wordsLibrería Antigua Cuscowere still to be deciphered. Greif knocked twice on the heavy wooden door.After a long pause, an elderly man with a thin face and a bushy moustache opened the door.

“Señor Greif?” the man asked in a low voice.

“That’s me.” Greif held out his hand, but the antiquarian ignored the gesture and stepped aside to let her in.

The interior of the antique shop was dark, the only light coming from a flickering light bulb. Books were stacked up to the ceiling, the musty smell of old paper hung in the air. The antique shop owner led them to a massive wooden table on which lay a small book, carefully wrapped in a cloth.

“The manuscript,” he said in a serious voice, pointing to it.

Jonas stepped forward, his interest aroused. With careful hands he unfolded the cloth and revealed the book. The pages were made of yellowed parchment, the writing a mixture of Spanish and Quechua, the language of the Incas.

“This is incredible,” Jonas murmured as he leafed through the pages. “Some of the drawings hereshow places that I have never seen in other sources.”

“What does it say?” asked Lena, leaning over Jonas’ shoulder.

"It speaks of a sacred temple, a place dedicated to the god Viracocha," Jonas explained. "But the descriptions are vague. It seems as if the priests deliberately concealed clues."

Greif reached for the manuscript, but Jonas pulled it back. "Careful! This is a historical document, not a brochure."

“And what do you suggest?” asked Greif impatiently.

"I need time to decipher this," said Jonas, pointing to a drawing that showed a row of mountains and a cave. "But I'm sure this is the key."

The antiquarian cleared his throat. "Time is one thing. Security is another."

“What do you mean?” asked Lena.

The antiquarian looked around nervously, as if he was being overheard. "The manuscript is hidden for a reason. Others have been looking for it. And some of them were... dangerous."

While Jonas studied the manuscript, the antiquarian showed them another artifact: a golden amulet engraved with strange symbols.

"It's part of the manuscript," he explained. "The symbols on it match the drawings."

Jonas carefully took the amulet in his hand. "It could be a key. Perhaps to a hidden chamber or a hidden entrance."

“How much?” Greif asked directly.

The antique dealer shook his head. "The amulet is priceless. It is not for sale."

Greif's expression darkened. "Everything has a price."

“Not this,” replied the antiquarian coolly.

Before the situation could escalate, Jonas put the amulet back on the table. "We only take what we need. The information in the manuscript is enough for now."

Greif said nothing, but his tense jaw spoke volumes.

When they left the antique shop, it was already dusk. The streets of Cusco now seemed eerie, the shadows long and threatening. Jonas carried the manuscript in a small leather backpack, which he held tightly to his body.

“Something is wrong here,” Lena murmured as she looked around.

“Paranoia,” Jonas said absentmindedly as he thought about the lyrics.

But then they heard footsteps behind them. Fast, heavy, coming closer. Lena stopped abruptly and pulled Jonas behind a corner.

“What’s going on?” he hissed, but Lena put a hand over his mouth.

Three men emerged from the darkness. Their faces were covered by scarves and they were carrying machetes. One of them pointed at the group and shouted: "¡El manuscrito, ahora!"

“They want the book,” Lena whispered.

“No wonder,” said Jonas, his voice trembling.

Greif pulled a small pistol from his jacket pocket. "Time to end this."

The men approached and the leader raised his machete. "¡Dámelo! Give us the manuscript!"

Lena grabbed a loose paving stone and threw it with all her strength at one of the men. The stone hit the attacker on the head and he fell to the ground. Jonas took advantage of the moment of confusion to grab Greif's weapon.

“Don’t shoot!” he shouted.

“What else should we do?” Greif shouted back.

Lena stepped forward, grabbed Jonas' arm and hissed: "Run!"

The three of them ran through the narrow streets, pursued by the attackers. Jonas felt his breath running out, but he held on tightly to the manuscript. Eventually they reached a larger street where Miguel was waiting with the SUV.

“Get in!” he shouted.

They jumped into the car and Miguel pressed the accelerator. The pursuers stayed behind, their curses echoing in the night.

There was a tense silence inside the car. Finally, Lena broke the silence. "That was close."

Jonas nodded, his heart still pounding wildly. “That wasjust the beginning."