Chapter 28

So it began with a deafening roar that resounded across the field, gracing each of the defenders ears as though it were mere inches from them. Tens of thousands of legs missing flesh and muscle began their relentless march towards the walls, followed by the ranks upon ranks of cruel men, mercenaries and orcs on their heels. Within this gathered host were war machines large and small, from trebuchets to salvaged cannons being dragged through the snow by the unwavering demand by towering ogres and giants. Above them like a cloud of flies, dwelled a writhing mass of tattered flesh bleached bones and chittering teeth. Mockery of the gryphon form they stayed aloft on shriveled wings that should not have carried them, their hairless flesh oozing dark green ichor.

Cannons from the defenders ranks began their deadly song, each note filled with a flash of fire, raining shrapnel in gruesome displays. Flesh was torn, bones snapped, lives were obliterated in their thunderous symphony. Even when the enemy’s wizards conjured massive clouds of fog to mask their approach, the crews continued to fire blind, trusting something would meet a gruesome end.

It wasn’t long before the encroaching hoards had set up positions within the field, mercenary riflemen and cannons answering the defenders own, ending in gruesome displays of gore and bone. Giants, long since dead, twirled slings made for their wretched hands. From them came head sized stones at terrifying speeds, though inaccurate, obliterated whatever was caught in their path.

The first wave of Dreadflame’s host marched towards the wall with a grim efficiency demanded upon them by the dragon’s will. Walls of stone were pulled forth from the snowy ground to shield the ranks of mercenaries of the deadly rain that assailed them with every step. However, it was not only from the walls did they have to fear.

From the earth came eruptions of magical might, brief and terrifying in their beauty. Shards of sharpened ice willed into being, condensing in a brief igniting of light before losing outwards like the many pedals of a flower. It pierced through bone, flesh, and armor alike, severing limbs and leaving dozens incapacitated. Panic would have taken any normal army as their ranks were filled with chaos, but these were held in place by the demanding gaze of their dragon overseers, knowing a far worse fate awaited them if they failed in their duty.

Veledar was high above, drifting upon his majestic wings, high above the city. Here, amidst the ranks of gryphon and pegasai, he was far away from projectiles and random spells, the perfect position to observe how the battle would unfold. The dragon rumbled in satisfaction to himself as another dozen explosions winked into existence from their ranks, scattering those around like rats.

“Look at them go.” He mused with a hint of bitterness, peering briefly back to Arcturus, secured within his harness.

Arcturus’ helm shined in the brief strand of light they passed through, the man’s emotions one of a tempered storm. “Should thank Jandar and Achaaz for such tricks, that’s what they were doing while you were being trained to take orders from Skywing.”

“Practicing.” He reminded the human with a harsh snort, “One hopes your gryphon relishes the rare joy that is commanding me around as though I’m merely another of his feathery fiends.”

“I doubt that he will abuse it.”

Eyes were drawn to the towering, ragged forms of the undead giants acting as lumbering trebuchets. “One wonders why we don’t just swoop upon their oversized zombies and do the same, spare those upon the wall.”

The paladin gestured with a nod trio of dragons that dwelled close enough to respond. “It would appear they are of the same mind.”

“Bah.” Hissed Veledar as he drifted over Krotos but a dragon’s length below. “Next you’re going to say that those flies out there could even hold a candle to me.”

“You mean those abominations on wings? The fluttering cloud of deformed monstrosities and zombified gryphons?”

“Those would be the ones, yes. I imagine a plume of my fire would be more than enough to drive them from the sky.”

Comfort came in the gentle pat of Arcturus’ hand upon his neck. “You’re just upset they are keeping us back here, while the others get to spring into action.”

This might have been so, but he didn’t respond to the man, other than a harsh snort and swift turnaround in the air. Within his helmet, aided by the Lumarian communication runes, he could hear the chatter of gryphon wings with eager talons to sweep the enemy and bombard them with explosive presents.

“I’m just saying, we shouldn’t let the wizard’s traps have all the fun.” Mug said, his voice sounding as though mere inches from the dragon’s ear.

“And we keep our distance until they draw closer.” Skywing responded firmly, “Their fliers do the same, waiting for us to make the first move.”

“Which should be to dispatch dreadflame.” Veledar growled. “Cut off his head and I imagine the cockroaches will flee.”

Arcturus’ reply was firm, “I doubt our enemy would be so easily felled.” Again, he gestured to the dragon’s within the enemy ranks, each of them a perfect image of Dreadflame himself. “And which one would you go for? Our cup run over with choices.”

Until they had more detail, such a move would be costly. If they chose wrong, the attempt would be wasted. The dragon would respond with his more powerful units to meet them in kind. It made Veledar’s scales boil below his armor, yet respect such a deceptive move, their enemy was a dragon after all. “It’s a shame that our foe waits behind his army, seeking the perfect moment to strike.” He could feel the flame that was the paladin’s anger, even if the man was unwilling to admit it, a flame that matched the dragon’s own.

Krotos rose to join them, only but a wing length away. “Typical dragon or king, get all the others to sully their paws.”

“I wait for when they have need of me.” He growled at the reminder of the commander’s words, “To slay a dragon is a victory in itself. Arcturus and I are for the more important targets that need to be removed.”

“Right, flutter about, look pretty, gotcha.” Smirked the gryphon, before turning his beak to the swarm of undead fliers positioning themselves above the battle. Ears splayed, knowing it would not be long before even his talons were tearing into the rotted, decaying flesh of their kind. “Just look at all of them.”

He had to admit, it was hard to not swallow the gryphon’s words as he beheld the host below. It seemed to swallow the valley below, corrupt the places that mere weeks ago were filled with their laughter and good cheer. It was replaced by the stomps of their boots and hooves, ground down by wheels, filled with snarls, groans and hisses of monstrosities to mock the living. Trees they touched had started to blacken and wilt, painting the image what awaited Drenedar itself.

“Think of it as not able to miss.” Arcturus’ voice cut through their silence, bringing a soft laugh to the gryphon’s beak. “Just follow on our tail, hold onto luck, and you’ll see your home again.”

“Ah yes, the forests around Dustwall, so tall and strong are those oaks.” Krotos sighed, “Tall as your houses, thick as a dragon’s wings spread…I never did take Gus there to meet the others in my flight.”

“Then hold onto that, to see his wife and child once more.”

Veledar chuffed at the kind words of his mate, soothing the doubt that flickered within the gryphon’s gaze. His attentions were drawn to several towers of wood, bone and metal, cobbled together by withered hands and terrible intentions. They trundled through the pulverized snow on blood soaked wheels, pulled by teams of bulbous forms of stitched together flesh and bones. Each one rose up, wide enough to fit dozens of warriors and allow them to assail the walls.

The dragon bristled with anticipation, was this not what he was waiting for? He brought them closer to the walls, tapping the communication rune placed upon his forepaw, “Fastpaw to Skywing.” He growled at the code name, but barreled through, “It would appear as our unwanted guests wish to arrive within Fremra’s fair city sooner than intended, I wish to give them a warm welcome.”

Though Krotos warbled at the image of a dragon asking a gryphon permission to do what he wished, he had enough control to not swat him out of the sky. He did however snarl at him, giving the gryphon a good look at his sharpened teeth, only to his dismay to get a teasing kiss as the gryphon winked and dove away.

There was a brief pause, before the tiger gryphon responded, “Guardians seem to be in consensus with you Fastpaw. Red group, blue group, gold group, I want you with that dragon to assist do you hear me?”

Chirps of confirmation came as the dragon’s heart trilled, finally, a moment to show those in Struport, and himself that he could fill in for Storm’s paws.

“But what of us?” Came Swiftclaw’s formal chirp, “Are we hanging back with the fancy horse riders?”

“And waste your talents gryphon squad? You’re to join our honorary gryphon in his attack, I want those eye sores gone within three shakes of a gryphons tail.” Said Skywing.

The dragon found his wing space soon filled with that of gryphon squad as they gathered around him in a series of chirps. Behind them were at least three dozen gryphons, nearly all sporting a man or woman armed to the teeth with a variety of ranged and melee options. He met them all with a nod and snort of approval, Arcturus of course waved them along.

“Nice to get some action up here…Do try to keep up with Crimson here.” Arcturus teased, as Veledar brought them around to line up their approach.

“Keep up with you? Hah!” Came Mug, mounted upon the large, bluejay colored gryphon of the squad, “Tell big and red there its me he has to compete with!”

“Alright, cut the chatter.” Skywing cut through the round of jovial boasting, organizing the other wings into a pattern of attack. First the three colored wings would go in, clash with the undead fluttering about the air, letting the others do their work. “May the gods watch over you.”

Across the fields they traversed with great speed, the wings of gryphons leading the way with Veledar coming up the rear. Wind caressed feather and scale alike, it’s cold whispering a tale better left unspoken. Their path would keep them away from the army below, safe from spells and arrows that might assail them. It however was to be filled with the chittering of the undead host’s fliers, who swiftly rose to greet them.

The creatures were bulbous things of bizarre design, of rotted flesh and bone stitched together at un-natural angles. Their exposed muscles writhed beneath the surface, as though thousands of maggots dwelled, ready to burst free. Wings they possessed were leathery things, supported by thin strands of mismatched bones. They should not have been able to fly, yet here they were, eyeless beasts with sharpened claws and maws lined with rows upon rows of jagged, metal teeth.

Gryphons met them with the ferocity that was to be expected, heralded by the crackling fire of the energy crossbows of their partners. Rotted flesh was torn apart or blown away, some left nothing more than slivers of twisted gore. In a series of keening shrieks melee was swiftly upon them, the undead repaying the gift that was bestowed. It soon became a chaotic battlezone of steel and flesh, creating the perfect distraction for Veledar and the others to slip on by.

Veledar shifted downward, his heart longing to stay, aid the gryphons paying for this attack with blood, but he had his duty. With a flick of his tail and whisper of the words of power, his scales shifted grey, becoming the durability of granite. He eyed the towers and the ranks of archers below, it would be more than enough to blunt any retaliation that came their way. Just to be sure however, a blinding light erupted from his back, causing those who still lived to avert their gaze. How he was glad that wasn’t used upon him.

He curled around the first tower in a predatory fashion, it’s form nothing that his fireglands could not solve. As Arcturus began loosing lightning bolts from his back, the dragon unleashed his flames in a long plume, encasing the boney structure with red-orange tendrils of death. What it touched, fire ignited, turning the structure into a box of death. Those within found their exit soon engulphed, their screams muffled from the tower’s walls.

“Ever did I mention I’m glad you’re on our side?” Arcturus commented as mercenaries flung themselves from the tower’s exit, only to spend their last few moments of life, face down in the dirt.

The dragon rumbled, tilting his wings towards the next tower, noting the distinct sound of several arrows shattering against his armor with a notable ping. “You could do so more often.”

Screams and shouts came from below as the duo advanced upon the second tower. They loosed arrows, rifle shots, spring loaded nets, but each was avoided or deflected by the red dragon. He was a devil upon them from which they could not remove, leaving it up to the surviving mages as they desperately summoned translucent hands of magical energy in attempted to rip Veledar from the sky. These attempts proved fruitless as he laid waste to the next two towers, the hands dispelled by Arcturus’ magic.

“Can you feel their anger?” Mused the dragon as the tower beneath him crumbled and broke, “Their attempts torn apart by a man with a sword? How embarrassed they must be.”

“You imagine they’ll try to get revenge?” Asked Arcturus, as they sought out the fourth tower, this one guarded by a set of four shambling ogres, outfitted with uneven plates covered in runes.

“Of that I have no doubt. But fear not Umraadi, they shall have to tangle with me.”

The sounds of an explosion ripped through the air, followed by the startled shouts of the mercenaries below. Gryphon squad’s forms shot out of a cloud of blackened smoke, Mug cackling like a mad kobold as he continued to loose magical death from his kobold. It would appear as they’d put an end to their second tower.

Arcturus blinked, “That kobold scares me at times.”

“I’ll take solace that I’ve destroyed twice as many towers…Speaking of which.” The dragon surged forward, avoiding the clumsy rock throw of one of the ogre guards. It passed right below his paws, making Arcturus gasp. “Hang on Umraadi, this might get a bit bumpy.”

With a grace that could only be matched by the gryphons, Veledar rose up to pin in his wings. Another rock sailed where they should have been, only for him to twist and change their direction. He knew Arcturus was holding on for dear, life, unable to hurl his thunderbolts, but it was worth it to not end up a blood smear beneath a rock. He latched onto one of the undead brutes, his claws tearing through the weakened flesh and brittle bone. It was brought low by an intimate gift of his fire down through its guts.

As the other ogres tried to snatch him, the dragon leaped back with a buffet of his wings. He gifted them a bolt of crackling lightning, chaining from one to the next. Where it touched, their flesh burned away with a terrible hiss, only to leap to the living that dwelled below. As the larger beasts stumbled in shock, Arcturus loosed upon them a series of his own thunderbolts, downing one in a flash of brilliant light and a shower of sparks.

“Is it me or does this seem too easy to you?” Arcturus asked as the dragon tilted his wings, circling the final two with deadly purpose. “That the protection of these towers would be greater?”

“Greater how?” Veledar growled, bathing the ogre’s in a wave of fire. He pounded his wings away as their flesh peeled and blackened, the grounded undead left to collapse to an un-moving pile of gore. “Gryphons fight to keep us-“ The dragon was given pause as he rounded on the tower, spying the three dragons from before. Not a one had moved in the slightest to counter them, leaving it all to the undead being held up by their gryphon forces above.

“Of which they haven’t sent reinforcements, it’s like they don’t mind that we’re destroying their siege towers.”

Did it mean so little to them? Veledar latched onto tower as spears and arrows tried to pierce his magically shielded scales, without magic of their own, their attempts were laughable. As bones broke beneath his paws he applied his fire, soon bringing an end to this one’s resistance as well. As he leaped away, pride in his chest, he could not help but peer back to Dreadflame’s dragons.

“If they are going to sit there and watch, I hoped they enjoyed the show as we brought low their towers.”

“That’s right, suck it!” Mug came over the communication, moments before the final tower met its demise in a tremendous explosion of light.

“Skywing we’re clear, towers are down. I repeat, the towers are down.” Arcturus said as Veledar started climbing higher, heading back to the walls.

“Loud and clear.” Came Skywing’s reply, “Remaining groups, get out of there, Towers are down. Regroup at the walls.”

To Veledar’s dismay, what returned was a shadow that had gone out. At quick glance it appeared as though half of the gryphons that had flown out with him had perished. Those that remained were covered in blackened blood, their armor scratched and torn, some had their riders missing, ripped right out of their saddles. Their attack was costly indeed. He joined them, pounding his wings, the taste of their victory soured.

“They didn’t die in vain.” Came Arcturus’ kind words to sooth his thoughts, accompanied by a tender stroke of the neck.

He sighed, it would have to do. He sailed over the walls, through the clouds of smoke that billowed overhead, setting himself up next for whatever mission would be required of him. What he saw chilled his heart and gave him pause. The towers were reforming.

By an unseen hand, the blackened boards of wood and broken bone began to lift upon the air. Bit by methodical bit they latched onto one another, undoing what destruction had been wrought. Walls dragged themselves back into position, ramps rose forth, shredded wheels reformed in but a few breaths. In one pass of the city they were reforged, blackened charr falling away like nothing had transpired.

“They’re back.” Arcturus said in horror, hand gripping tight the harness. “All of them…If we can’t stop them, they will assail the walls.”

All that effort, for nothing? The dragon’s gaze narrowed upon each of those eyesores, his blood boiling. No wonder the Dreadflame’s dragons hadn’t moved, they didn’t need to. Whatever magical defense they had was going to undo what damage they could manage. He swooped around the injured city below with a growl, trying to cast away the grim realization that all those gryphons and riders had died for nothing more than a lesson learned.

** ** ** ** **

Chapter 29

 Hey, where are you going?”

“I have an idea.” He wheeled around through the air, eyes already scanning through the defenders. Though he might be able to undo the spell, he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“Unwind your tongue, now isn’t the time for secrets.”

He pounded his wings, finding what he sought, the onyx guardian keep, “Let’s see if her gryphon and her guard can be convinced to let me borrow her.”

With upmost haste, Veledar carried them to the keep’s walls. The defenders, looked to him with concern, why the dragon was now circling close, despite the encroaching foes beyond the wall. He called to them to make room, spying Nivra among the raised sections, staff in hand, looking better than she had the night before. She was surrounded by a trio of gryphons and Lumarians, armed to the teeth, stoic examples of order. They snapped to the dragon with tilted heads, their feathers fluffing up.

“Stay calm, stay calm. He means us no harm.” She barked to her protectors as Onyx guardians made room for Veledar to land, perching himself along the wall.

He ignored their concern, fluffing his wings. “What a fine day to see you again Nivra, I have need of you if you could guess.”

“I imagine it has to do with the reforming towers?”

“Observant from all the way out here, safe behind all these strapping guards.” He puffed up his chest with a huff, “I require your assistance in the removal of them.”

There was a spark of interest within her icy pools, as she averted her gaze to the marching army before them. “I’d imagine a reconstruction spell, if it were me I’d bury a rune within; along one of the main support beams. That way it would be safe from any random happen stance.”

“I know why they reformed, I’m not some sort of ignorant buffoon in the ways of magic.” He hissed, causing her guards to enter stances ready to fight, wings spread, ears pinned.

“Those are just sounds he makes.” Arcturus spoke with levity, “If you’re going to spring up at every one, you’re going to tire.”

Yet it wasn’t until Nivra ordered them at ease did they do so. “And if I catch you threatening our guest at his outbursts again, I’ll have you sent away from my side, are we clear?” When the three gryphons relaxed she returned her attention back to the dragon, “Then if you don’t need information, why seek me out?”

Veledar groaned and shook his head at such an obvious thing, “I stated what I needed. Your presence is needed by my side.”

She blinked, “Me?” Nivra rolled her hand to her chest, “You’re asking for my assistance?”

“Yes.” He rolled his eyes, lashing his tails with a hiss, this time the gryphons held their stances, “Have you gone deaf from all the cannon fire?”

“I think she’s just amazed you’re asking for help.”

“Will you?”

The gryphons turned their attentions to their princess, seeing the longing upon her face. Each narrowed their gaze, knowing the orders that were given to them. Nivra stood upright, heaving a sigh, “Unfortunately, much to my ire, Skywing and the other gryphons have me under lock and key, like some sort of child.” Her voice was dripping with annoyance, as she gestured to Voidwing, lurking in what shadows were here. “Why not go ask Fremra, Jandar, or even Achaaz for help? I’m sure they have the ability in which you require to undo a simple rune.”

“They’re too busy with the meteors that Dreadflame can unleash.” Arcturus gestured to the trio of dragons, resting upon the roofs of the city. Their snouts were skyward, ever vigilant for any sign of the red dragon’s magical might. “The defense they can bring is great, but it requires them to be ever observant. If they miss but a one, we will have repeat of the previous eve to worry about.”

“And we don’t wish that upon anyone but those following Dreadflame.” Growled Veledar, lashing his tail. “So, since my illustrious form can’t be in multiple locations at once…Without sacrificing my spells to protect myself, I require your capable paws.”

There was silence as Nivra held tight her staff, “You heard the dragon Shadowtalon. There is no other option.”

“Your safety princess.” Shadowtalon the gryphon squawked, his blue and white feathers fluffed, ears pinned, “Is of the upmost concern, we can’t have you flying off into the battle with this dragon!”

“Then join me. Is that not what the princess’ guard are supposed to do?” She gestured to Voidwing, padding over with pinned ears, “Protect me from harm?”

“Not when you’re throwing yourself into the fire.” Chirped the black and white gryphon, before giving Veledar a heavy stare, “You’re putting her life at risk.”

“Of which is needed.” Veledar huffed, flicking his tail, “And if you refuse me, I’m simply going to kidnap. Clearly she wants to go to.”

“Way to further the stereotype of dragon’s kidnapping princesses.” Groaned Arcturus.

“I also kidnap handsome, male paladins. I am anything but a stereotype.”

Voidwing gave a squawk of irritation, before turning to his love. There was a pregnant pause between the pair before his hardened expression softened. “Skywing had me give my word.”

“That gryphon if I recall, spoke of not leaping off without a plan. Needlessly putting my life into harms way.” She responded, running a hand along the underside of his neck. “You saw those towers Voidy, the lives that were lost, think of all the lives saved if we stop them.” She gestured to the others as her gryphon graced her with a softened chirp, bowing his head. “However, I do understand the need for safety. That’s why the rest of you will to be accompanying me. Is that understood Shadowtalon?”

Shadowtalon composed himself, lashing his tail, “Understood your majesty.”

“Does that sound agreeable to you?” She lifted Voidwing’s head, so that the amber eyed gryphon was looking right at her.

“Only if you make another compromise on my behalf.”

“And what might that be? Is a quartet of gryphons, a dragon and a paladin not enough to satisfy your protective nature?”

“Not in the slightest.” He ruffled his feathers, gesturing to Shadowtalon. “They might be able, but I have a few replacements in mind. The others of the company we joined.”

The princess smirked, before giving a halfhearted sigh, “You speak of Merlia, Asterion and Krotos.”

“That I do.”

“I suppose we should give them something to do.” She grabbed hold of the gryphon’s withers and clambered up onto his saddle, brandishing her staff at the ready. “I know the minotaur will be most pleased. What say you Crimson Sky?”

The dragon gave a nod, before fluffing his wings, “I just wish to see Merlia’s face when she learns she’s to return to the sky again.”

** ** ** ** **

“You’re doing what?” Skywing’s angered squawk resounded over the arcane runes, it sounding as though it was right by Arcturus’ ear.

“Taking our princess out for battle. Hopefully it won’t take too long.” Replied Arcturus with a practiced calm, only getting another series of curses from his friend.

“You realize we already gave a talk to her about this sort of thing, I didn’t think you’d be so reckless!”

The paladin held fast Veledar’s harness as the dragon swept them over Struport, “I suppose the dragon has rubbed off on me. Take heart my friend, we are not so careless as you might think.”

There was a brief pause as the dragon positioned them on one side of Voidwing and Nivra, the dragon’s leathery wings nearly touching upon the gryphon’s own. On the other side of her was Krotos, feathers fluttering in the wind, Merlia cursing and trying to micromanage the gryphon’s movements as her braided hair chased behind her as though it were an auburn colored snake.

“I hope you have a plan in mind.” Skywing finally spoke, returning to the composure belonging to that of a commander, “I doubt the crunchers are going to rather enjoy you destroying their towers.”

“Invisibility spell. Don’t particularly ask me to explain it, but lets say the princess here can encase us all with a bit of effort.” Said Arcturus as Nivra had already begun tracing magical runes in the air with her staff, the other hand keeping her positioned.

“Surprised you’re using what some might call a deceptive trick.”

Arcturus frowned, knowing some might say as much. “It’s a tool that were to use, one that will save lives. While not preferred my friend, I shall not dismiss it so easily.”

“Then may the gods watch over you. Crimson Sky, you best keep our princess safe, or I will not stop hunting you.”

Veledar scoffed at the gryphon’s threat, activating his rune, “Have you not tried that before gryphon? It did not work out so well for you the first time.”

Skywing chuckled, “I’m not so sure, things seemed to go went well enough.” His commands soon shifted to the other gryphon wings and that of some of the pegasus knights, all of which was to keep their eyes peeled, should Veledar and the others need a swift exit.

“I think he’s starting to like me.”

“Was that not obvious?” Arcturus mused as Nivra finished her spell.

A bubble formed from her and Voidwing, it’s surface a mixture of ever shifting colors. It expanded with every flap of her bodyguard’s wings, entrapping them all. It spread a wet, warm sensation over flesh, scale and feather before exploding with a diminutive pop. Each of their forms had taken on a translucent state, looking little more than a handful of ghosts.

Stretched out before them was the rage of battle, of carnage incarnate. Bodies were being shattered under cannon fire, others felled by spell or arrows. Blood flowed to stain the snow as undead surged forth to replace them. Around them the towers continued their advance, bearing no sign of resistance. Even though cannons had already been fired into them, any damage was merely repaired by their irksome runes. One among them had almost reached the walls, militia and guardians getting into positions, shields raised to repel what awaited inside for them.

“So…Not to hamper the mood or anything, but what’s to stop Dreadflame from doing this exact trick?” Voidwing asked as they passed over the walls, eyeing the oncoming towers. “Pass above us without a trace?”

“The walls.” Nivra replied, “Creating an invisible barrier to stop exactly what we’re trying. You’d know about it if you read the history of Struport when we were in Fremra’s-“

“How about we focus on the towers, instead of pointless books.” Asterion snorted, currently being held close to Veledar’s chest as though he were a furry package. “I’d rather not be humiliated such as this and be forced to listen to another of the princess’ sermons.”

The dragon chortled as the princess huffed, clearly not expecting such bluntness. “Don’t you worry, you’ll have your fair share when we get started…Speaking of which, we’re about to, hope you don’t mind things hot.” Veledar swooped around the tower unseen, leaving nothing but a gust of wind in his wake. When he opened his maw and let forth his fire, it was far too late.

Flames rolled out to bathe those below in his cruelty, catching clothing and flesh alight. They lit the surrounding area in twisted mockeries of autumn colors, serenading the air with their terribly screams. Chaos erupted in their ranks, as Veledar landed upon them, crushing skulls beneath his paws. The gryphons came next with keening cries, tearing apart those who dared draw to close.

As the mercenaries struggled to comprehend what had happened, the second volley came on the heels of the first. Dragonfire was joined by powerful spells, of fire and ice alike. Flesh burned, armor was pierced, the ground soon was littered with metal covered corpses. It was a wave of destruction that was the perfect distraction. Arcturus leaped from Veledar’s back, followed by the others.

“That’s the way!” Merlia cackled with glee, knocking a glowing arrow before loosing it into the crowd. It split into a dozen different arrows before finding homes to plunge into.

“To the tower, don’t let them slow you down!” Arcturus led the charge, Asterion right as his side. With grim efficiency he felled three mercenaries still shaking their heads, no doubt dazed from their swiftness.

“None will slow a warrior of korde.” Growled Asterion, shouldering a skeleton as he entered the tower, shattering it against the floor.

Arcturus’ blade sung a deadly tune as they secured the first floor, each chop ending a life in a brilliant display of light and blood. By the time not a soul remained within the ground level, Veledar and the gryphons had already taken flight. The paladin was left eying the stairs leading up, where shouts of alarm were being had.

“Don’t suppose they’d be making this easier than getting into a gryphon’s nethers?” Merlia followed them, loosing arrow after arrow in a blur towards the enemy.

“Doubt it.” Arcturus levied his shield, waiting for a counter-attack.

“Question tho, how are we supposed to prevent getting our bums-“ She bit her tongue as Nivra drew a circle overhead with her staff, it’s head glowing a brilliant blue.

 Ice grew from the ground like a troublesome weed, fragmenting and exploding like one of Achaaz’s many traps. Thick and durable it swelled, forming a perfect barrier around the tower’s entrance. Those wishing to follow upon their heels would find themselves forced to chip away.

“Show off.” Merlia huffed, padding to Arcturus’ side. “So, how are the natives then? Cowering in their boots?”

“Something like that I imagine.” Replied the knight as Nivra touched one of the walls, ice blue eyes traveling across it’s surface, “Any luck princess?”

“None so far. This might take some time.”

“Hopefully not too long. I doubt the wall of ice will hold them for long.”

“Then why do we wait for our foe? Let us push them, grind them to dust!” Asterion banged his breastplate before charging up the tower’s ramp, bloodlust painted across his snout.

“That’s what I be talking about! Wait for me lad, no way you’re bestin me!” Cheered Merlia, chasing right after his hooves.

With a parting nod, Arcturus charged right on after his companions. The air was fraught with the sounds of clashing steel, the pounding thumps of his boots upon the creaking wood, all of that to be serenaded by the terrible roar of a dragon, his dragon. The knight relished the sound, the pride it brought the dragon spreading to him as well. It was powerful, invigorating, by the time he’d reached the next level of the tower’s defenders, he was more than ready to have at them.

“Finally the paladin comes.” Asterion huffed, smashing in a soldier’s skull with his hammer as an orange, translucent shape of the same weapon did the same to another. “I thought he’d linger with the princess.”

“You and me both!” Laughed Merlia, as a soldier’s spear foolishly stabbed at her, the dwarf rolling out of the way and gifting the man an arrow right between his helmet’s visor. “Come on Arcturus! There be enough for all of us.”

The paladin practically hurled himself into the wall of flesh and steel that was before them. Soldiers young and old, of various races and equipped with weapons of all sizes. They were packed together, no room to maneuver, most likely all the way to the tower’s topmost floor. His sword spoke in their language of death, the blackened, magical blade cutting through poor leather, feasting upon the blood beneath. Those that wore heavier armor found themselves no better, dispatched by his skill with the sword, some having their bodies burned as he smote them with surges of magical might.

Some tried to gather their ranks and press forward, use their numbers to their advantage, but this proved nothing but a fruitless task. They found themselves littered with duplicated arrows, strikes deflected by enchanted armor and shields, some even blinded by brilliant light far greater than that of the sun. The worst bit came from Asterion himself, calling upon a pillar of red and gold flames to cast back and disintegrate them.

“Need any help up there?” Nivra called from one level down, striding behind them as though it were a casual stroll through one of her gardens. “It sounds like you’ve caused quite the ruckus!”

“Nothing that we cannot handle princess, just focus on the rune!” Arcturus called back.

Bit by bit they cleaved and hacked their way through the forces of dreadflame. It would appear as though they’d gone for numbers over quantity, easy pickings for the trio of deadly adventurers before them. Blood flowed like rivers as they littered the floor with corpses and that of discarded steel still gripped by the grip of their owners. That was until they stumbled across some resistance, it would seem that their foes had put the more capable fighters towards the top.

“Oooo, so they can put up a fight!” Merlia taunted, forced to retreat as a man in plate nearly took off her head with an axe, “Here I was thinking it was going to be clubbing baby seals all day!”

“Since when have you clubbed baby seals?” Arcturus replied, crossing his blade across the man’s ax-head. The weapon seemed to glow white hot, as thought caught in a forge, yet it didn’t break. It would appear as if the man’s weapon was enchanted.

“Tell ya about it later. When we’re not dancing with a bunch of pussies. How about you Asterion? You must be-“

“Finally! A worthy challenge!” Asterion thundered, as two soldiers in chain ducked and avoided his blows, pushing him back with spears, the weapon’s heads glowing a faint blue.

Arcturus clashed several times with the ax wielding opponent, finding his shield tested with clangs of steel. He pressed the man back with his blade, but never quite finding the opening he needed to truly put him down. It came as arrows careened into the man’s joints, one right after the other, one right into his knee. The man collapsed with a pained grunt, only for Arcturus to swing his blade and behead him in a single stroke.

“Guess he got in over his head huh?” Merlia cackled away like a mad woman, without missing a beat of her hands, starting to threaten the soldiers still squaring off with Asterion.

Facing off now with three trained adventurers, the two soldiers fared little chance. They were felled one right after the other, skewered by arrows and finished with the cleric’s hammer cracking them both upside the skull. The collapsed to the ground a blood heap, leaving the trio panting, smirking to one another.

“I’m up to fifteen. How bout you?” Merlia chuckled, kicking a corpse.

“Thirteen.” Asterion growled, retrieving his hammer, gripping it’s shaft tight, “But the day is not yet done. Arcturus?”

“Come now, it’s not fair for me to say.” He replied, “I did have a head start after all.” He peered back whence they came, now a grim display of death. He grimaced, “Nivra, have you found it yet?”

“Impeccable timing you seem to have Arcturus!” She called back, “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were spying on me!”

“That sort of thing is more the dragon’s area of expertise. How long do you need?”

“Minute or two at the most!”

“How fairs the ice wall?”

To that the princess did pause, “Around that time as well.”

Wonderful, he cursed to himself. They would be cutting this closer than he’d have liked. He had to steady himself as the tower shook, it’s metal hatches above no doubt latching onto Struport’s walls. Above they could hear the cry of soldiers and guardians, as they moved to have at one another. Give it a minute and the way they’d come would be overloaded with many more wanting revenge for the blood they’d spilled.

“How goes the plan my minions…And Arcturus?” Veledar’s voice cut through the paladin’s worry like a blade. “The tower seems to have latched on. Should I be worried?”

“Just a little complication is all.” Arcturus replied, “Shouldn’t be a bit more. How goes the flying? Not too terrible I hope.”

“Oh, just a little worse for wear. Did you know, the necromancers out here are not found of dragon’s seeking them out? I’ve already grabbed two of them and tossed them into the air. It surprised me they didn’t even think to prepare a spell of feather fall. You’d think it would be a required one for mage kind, when dragons are known to be around.”

He shook his head, trying not to relish the image of two dark magic wielding magicians plummeting to their doom. “Do try and not relish the death too much Umraadi, you’re supposed to be inspiring.”

“No promises.”

“Not to be causing ya too much trouble, but could ya quit your love yappin and help?” Merlia called from above, accompanied by the sound of something minotaur shaped slamming into the ground.

“Talk to you later Umraadi, trouble is afoot.” Arcturus surged forward to the next level, stepping over the tumbling form of Merlia. Asterion was sprawled out, hands locked onto the deadly looking ax currently trying to be pressed down into his chest.

Over the bull was a minotaur of greater size, with fur like that of winter’s snow. Scars covered much of his muscles form, telling of a life of numerous battles. He was adorned in leathers of various hides, stained with blood with runes engraved into their surface. Each one flared with a wicked light, exuding black smoke that curled around the warrior like a wicked snake. His eyes rippled with death, the pupils narrowed to orange slits. The air around him rippled with power.

“I do think that’s enough!” He slammed into the towering bull, doing little more than forcing a retreat, giving Asterion a reprieve.

“Good.” The white minotaur growled, his tail flicking behind him. “Another warrior, unlike the cowardly dwarf.”

“I’m not a coward ya overgrown cow!” Merlia shouted, loosing an arrow, only for his bracers to glow a viridian light and the projectile to careen away from him and sink into the wall with a thud. “Witchcraft, ya cheating bastard!”

It would appear as though they would have to do it the hard way. Arcturus grit his teeth and steeled himself, stepping between Asterion and the towering bull. He recited words of power to shield himself, gripping tight his weapons. Blue, shimmering light encompassed both he and his shield. With his blood warm he surged forward, the brute’s leather would prove no protection against his enchanted blade.

The minotaur rose to meet him, undeterred by Arcturus’ display. His axe swung with tremendous strength, crashing into the man’s shield. Steel scraped against one another for the briefest of moments before Arcturus was sent hurtling backwards to the wall with a dull thud.

Had his weapon struck? He was certain his blade had tasted something in the exchange, the bruiser had not even attempted to block. There was not a chance to get a good look, as the minotaur continued forward, tossing Asterion away with a mere snort. Ax and hand he swung for Arcturus again, this time meaning to take his head.

“This one is strong isn’t he?” Arcturus avoided the deadly strike by scant inches, leaving the weapon to crash and splinter the wall behind him.

“As is to be expected from a chosen of Korde.” Smiled the minotaur as he wheeled around, catching Asterion’s hammer with an open palm. With a snort he yanked it free of the cleric’s grip, letting it clatter to the floor. “Pathetic you call yourself one of Korde’s priests.”

“Feel free to test that calf.” Asterion responded, dropping back with his arms raised, ready for another spell. “There is more to fighting than brute strength alone.”

“Says the one disarmed and unable to make a scratch.”

“Allow us to correct that.”

Arcturus and the others were forced to avoid the warrior’s savage strikes, each one whistling through the air. They maneuvered around him with great effort, soon flanking him on either side. They met his chaos with precision, but his flesh seemed more durable than steel. Arcturus grit his teeth as he blocked another strike, feeling it reverberate through his being. Even spells that Asterion tried to use to ensnare the minotaur’s movements were cast aside, his rage giving him the greatest means of escape. Even Merlia’s wrapping of him with vines did little more than slow him down for a fraction of a moment.

“Pitiful weeds.” The warrior snorted, slicing through Merlia’s bow and kicking her to the ground.

The dwarf’s cheeks flushed, “Ya know lad, if not for the murdering us thing, you’re putting on quite the show!”

“Not now Merlia!” Arcturus shouted, slashing through the warrior’s arm and then his thigh. Yet he might as well have been cutting through stone, they were hardly deep enough to be threatening. “Asterion, anything knowledgeable about what’s going on?” Another block, the man was sent hurtling back, arm aching from the effort. “He’s a monster!”

“A totem warrior.” Snorted the Cleric, tossing a ball of white fire into the minotaur’s face, it might as well have been water. “Their rages make them extremely durable.”

“You don’t say!” Merlia replied, pulling out an ax and to throw; it went wide, the warrior’s bracers glowing. “It works on axes too? That’s just not fair!”

“I almost have it down here!” Nivra called from below, oblivious to the dire straights in which they found themselves, “Is everything alright up there? That sounds like quite the scuffle!”

“Focus on the rune princess! We can handle this brute!” Arcturus replied, only drawing a grin to the minotaur’s bleeding lips.

“Are you so sure human? You and your allies seem to be weak.” He brandished his axe with a smug chuckle, “It’s hard to believe these are the champions that slew one of the dragons.”

“To be fair, the dragon wasn’t a cheating bastard!” Merlia shot back, flipping the minotaur off. “And don’t you get your panties in a twist, my boys here will have you on your ass!” She slapped Arcturus on the bum, her hands glowing a vibrant green. “What ya say boy? Care to send this one for a trip?”

Trip? Arcturus felt his tired limbs swell with strength, energy restored. What did she mean? A quick glance saw the minotaur standing right before the crack in the wall, courtesy of his reckless attack. With a shout he charged with his shield held firm, calling upon his gauntlet of strength. What Merlia had enhanced was amplified, creating a force of will that even this minotaur could not stop. The warrior uselessly struck Arcturus’ shield, before being hurled backwards and thru the wall.

Eyes wide the minotaur yelled, realizing his mistake before plummeting down the exterior of the tower; his fall being broken by a handful of soldiers and undead below. He stirred, still alive, but he would be gone at least for now.

“Did you see the look on his face? Absolutely priceless lad! You’ll have to paint a picture of dat!” Merlia laughed.

He joined her, as Asterion regarded them with a harsh snort and narrowed eyes.

“Why did you go and do that?” The cleric said, “We had him.”

“It’s as you said.” Arcturus clapped him on the back, “There are different ways to victory. We just sent him on a short trip.”

There victory was short lived however, as the sound of shattering ice met their ears. It was accompanied by the roar of the soldiers behind it; intertwined with half a dozen hisses from the raised dead.

“Nivra! I believe time is up!”

“I just…there!” She replied, before sprinting up the tower’s stairs to meet them. Eyes wide she exchanged a quick glance down, where the sound of thumping boots after them was clear as a robin’s song.

“I suppose there is but one way to go.” Arcturus gestured, already starting to race the others to the top. He sheathed his sword and tapped his helm, knowing they had not long before they were breathing down a hoard of foes. “Umraadi, if you would be so kind. The natives have gotten restless, could you do something about it?”

Veledar’s replied with a brassy tone , “I thought you’d never ask.”

The sound of leathery wings heralded their ascent to the tower’s topmost layer, their boots barely touching upon the stone of Struport’s walls as Veledar’s roar pierced through the air. They wheeled around, weapons in hand to greet those that followed on their heels; but the enemy were not met with the defenders of the wall, but that of an angry dragon.

Powerful claws gripped tight the tower’s roof, wood threatening to break beneath him. With a lashed tail he unleashed his fire into the unsuspecting soldiers and undead, engulfing them in a most horrific end. Those not obliterated outright were set aflame, cursed to spend the last few moments of their lives in wretched agony. Any forward advance blunted and then reversed, the tower soon bending to the dragon’s demand. As he departed with a satisfied warble, the structure collapsed in a terrible cacophony of splintering wood and horrified screams.

Panting, Arcturus stood, sheathing his sword as the fires raged below. Those around him were held, spell bound by such death brought in mass, brought about by their draconic ally. He rose his arm and roared to his dragon, soon finding it answered in kind by all those around him.

“Well, that was certainly one way to bring one down.” Nivra wiped the sweat from her brow as the others eyed the approaching forms of six more towers.

“Hopefully we can be faster next time.” Asterion snorted, before starting to tend to their minor cuts and wounds. “And use less of our spells.”

“Well, next time they better not have such handsome champions.” Merlia crossed her arms, brow furrowed, “Shame we had to knock that one on his ass.”

Arcturus scoffed, “You’ll excuse me if I don’t share such a sentiment.” As the dwarf laughed he signaled to the gryphons and his dragon on approach, “That was most a welcome sight. Though they might have been a bit scared Umraadi, you put on quite the display.”

“As always.” Rumbled the dragon as he landed upon the wall, the defenders making room so that he and the gryphons could land. As Arcturus climbed upon his back and secured his chord, the dragon could only grin as he flicked his tail and fluffed his wings, “Ready for another one? Lets just hope they go down just as easily.”

** ** ** ** ** **

Onto the next towers Veledar and his gryphon cohorts brought their humanoid companions. In a flurry of explosions, spells, and dragon fire, each one fell as easily as the one before it. The dragon whirled above, a great protector, bringing death to any that approached and threatened the life of his Umraadi and that of his friends. Many tried to bring about his demise, with arrows or bullets loosed in his direction, but to them he might as well have been a scaled god, his stone skin ensuring not a one injured him.

He was a demon how he swooped and brought death to those below, the effects of his dragonfear spreading swiftly to those that had a mind to affect. It shook the mightiest of hands, stilled their forward advance, ensured that he was the target instead of Krotos and Voidwing. They too were sharing in the carnage of battle, instead of fire they were dropping explosives into the ranks of those below. While it paled in comparison to his draconic fire, it did break apart those that clung to closely together. That was, until the ranks of mercenaries gave them a wide berth, allowing the dead to instead fill their place.

Of the tower’s destruction, it was the last one to offer the most resistance. After their first display of destructive might, the rotted minds of the monsters below would not be cast aside. The moment Arcturus and the other’s boots hit the ground, the ranks of undead were rushing towards them, undeterred by the still smoldering embers of their previous number. Even with Arcturus’ turning of undead, there were far too many.

Veledar charged into them with a mighty roar, his claws tearing through their putrid flesh. With his tail he battered them, smashed them aside as though they were weeds. They charged to him despite his fire, dozens of boney hands and ragged teeth soon trying to batter their way through his armor and scales. In a matter of moments his beauty was sullied with blackened blood and fragments of bone and tattered sinew. Still they came, their numbers seemingly at no end.

Voidwing was the first to join him with a keening cry, crushing the heads of a trio of zombies as though they were ripe melons. Like a blur he was of onyx and silver, the expertise of the queen’s bodyguard on full display. He tore out throats with his beak, slashed apart limbs, he was a whirlwind of death for a gryphon. Cleaving a path, he was right at Veledar’s side, ripping and tearing apart those assailing the dragon.

He covered the gryphon with his powerful, blood-stained paws. Bones shattered beneath him, weapons crashed and failed to get through his spells, they were a bulwark in which the dead could not pierce. But that was not to last, as the dragon’s scales turned back to the crimson glory they were before. His scales deflected several blows, but there were too many seeking his harm. He roared as sharpened blades tasted his blood, returning their kindness with a plume of fire.

Where had that come from? He couldn’t cast his spells as the hoard of undead assailed them with their relentless determination. No matter how many were felled by he or Voidwing’s claws, they simply kept on coming. Even still the dragon caught sight of what had stripped his spell from him, a necromancer hanging back within their ranks. With a lash of his tail he made a path with his flames, burning away putrid flesh and tattered limbs. He leaped over their heads, landing and crushing their weakened skulls.

The mage, to his credit was a crafty creature by nature. When the dragon went to snatch him with his snout, he tasted nothing but air. An explosion of purple light told the tale of an illusion. The true magician was further within the ranks of his undead forces, his palms glowing with a brilliant blue light. Chanting words of power he pressed his arms forward, letting forth a funnel of intense cold. Those of weaker constitutions found themselves frozen solid, lives snuffed out. The dragon found himself enveloped by thousands of icy daggers, all being plunged into his scales at once.

With a pound of his wings he flung himself back before he was turned into nothing more than a fancy icicle. He crashed into the dead, the sound of splintering bones catching his ear. Even with his limbs and wings aching from such an assault, he was granted no reprieve. Zombies leaped upon him with snapping jaws, latching onto his forepaws and hinds. Blood ran as they sank their teeth, but their victory would be short lived. He thrashed and managed to pull himself to his feet, bathing those around him in righteous fire.

To the sky he returned with a pounce and pump of his mighty wings, casting away the zombies still stubbornly clinging to his limbs. He didn’t even watch as they plummeted to the ground, splattering apart in a gruesome display. Groaning at the dozens of gashes and cuts across his body he swooped around the tower containing his love. Inside he could feel the thrill of combat, the concern, the anxiousness to hurry up with his task.

Below, Voidwing was holding the door on his own, the gryphon putting up quite the defense. His feathers were all but slathered in grime and blood, some of it no doubt his own. His keening cry all but returned the dragon to the ground.

“You should have flown to the sky.” He growled, landing after another wave of fire protected the stubborn gryphon from a few ranks of dead. “Instead you have me, saving your furry behind.”

“And you spoil me!” Chirped the gryphon, his voice marred with fatigue, “Ever think of changing your title to something with the word angel in it?”

Rumbling he rose a paw and chanted words of power, letting the magic flow through his drahkrahs. Around them swelled a great wall of intense, blue flames, unleashing a wave of searing heat. Those caught outside it found their bones incinerated, flesh burned, it would be more than enough to hold the hoard of undead at bay; at least for the next minute.

“Couldn’t have done that at the start?”

“Didn’t occur to me your princess was running out of walls.”

Voidwing pinned his ears as he gave an indignant squawk, “You never quite get used to the smell of burning flesh do you?”

He wrinkled his muzzle as the zombies marched without fear for their lives into his spell, stumbling to the other side with little life left within them. They collapsed, still aflame, clawing at the dirt until they ceased to move. “Not quite, but generally I’m not subjected to it this much.”

It was then that their wall of flames was cast away, scattered to the winds by an ethereal hand. The necromancer from before stood resolute, his withered staff gripped tight within his frail arms. With him alive, any magical defense would be fleeting at best.

“Did I ever mention how I hate mages?” Growled Veledar, as the ranks of undead soon returned to plague him. The moment his paws met flesh, he couldn’t help but wonder where the other gryphon of theirs was hiding.

His answer came with a resounding squawk, as a blur of blue and grey feathers rushed past them. Krotos careened into the necromancer, crushing the old man beneath his weight. Before the mage could shout in alarm or cast another spell, the gryphon tore his throat out with his beak in a shower of crimson. By the time the necromancer’s minions could wheel around to have at the gryphon, Krotos was already returning to the air; the mage dead on the ground.

“It looks like someone finally decided to act instead of waiting back!”

“Merely picking the perfect moment to strike!” Krotos chirped, spinning away as several arrows were loosed in his direction, “Unfortunate his throat couldn’t handle a gryphon!”

Veledar tapped his forepaw as they reset their defensive stance, “Nivra, not to rush you, but if you could hasten your work, it would be immensely helpful.”

“Then you’re most fortuitous dragon.” Came her reply, “The rune has been discarded, Asterion and the others are putting an end to the resistance in here. Do wait for us to depart before developing it in your flames?”

“I don’t think I despise you that much. I’d at least wait for Arcturus to be safe.”

“Charming.”

The came rushing out as the undead mustered their strength and went for another push, larger forms pushing themselves to the front. Bizarre creatures with streams of luminescent green sludge billowing from their claws eyed the dragon and gryphons with hungry eyes.

“Why don’t you look like you’ve had an ordeal.” Arcturus remarked, sheathing his blade and clambering up onto the dragon’s back. “Need a hand?” The man laid a hand upon the dragon’s scales, channeling his healing magic to seal and cast away the numerous wounds the dragon had endured.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Huffed Veledar as his unfurling wings pushed back those closest to him. Not willing to continue his stay, he snatched Asterion up within his paws, dragging the cursing bull into the sky when he pounded his powerful wings. Up they rose in a tight spiral, the dragon rumbling as arrows chased after his frilled tail.

With the gryphons soon at his side they shot back towards the walls, where the defenders still held with the upmost ferocity. The dragon peered back to the trio of dragons still lingering near their undead artillery, no doubt hissing at his victory. He rumbled, wishing that he could see the ire on their snouts.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

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