Snippet #2084930

Drakenvold was dissapointed at first, but knew that Azazel was probably right. Still, all that forbidden knowledge crammed in there......

But then he felt the tremors, and his doubts vanished, Baron Praxus had returned, and he let out a vicious cry to war;

"MY SERVANTS! You, have done well for a group of mortals. Now.....the time has almost come...The only thing stopping us, is my ax. As soon as we possess it, will we CRUSH the false gods.... and reign supreme!

And then the island erupted in a chilling chorus of proud war cries and stomping. Pride welled into Drakenvold's black heart, though he did not join in with the whooping and hollering, instead he burst into song. A deep, melodious tune taught to him by his mother, whom he murdered. It was a song that spoke of the legendary Draconus, the first free dragon leader, who led his kin to battle with Lilith's hordes eons ago, to show their true independence. When his mother had sang it to him, the melody was soft and filled with pride and a sense of courage. When Drakenvold sang it, the melody was deep and haunting, with a rugged, warlike quality. Drakenvold felt the back of his robe flutter as a shiver was sent down little Speck's spine as his master sang the sinister tune. His voice was not as loud as the Baron's, but most on the island heard the tune, the Baron himself included. This was Drakenvold's way of showing true respect to his old friend, not with some feet kissing, or some sucky -uppity speech of unyielding devotion, but with a melody of rage, death and war. He laughed at himself for fretting about Liliths monster, the Baron and his brothers could easily handle it. The beast could go stuff itself, the main priority was the ax, and the fall of the new gods. Drakenvold eagerly awaited the knowledge of his part to play in the coming battle. He had still not forgotten his promise to Caylim's splintered company;

"If we ever meet again on the fields of battle, I shall crush you. Farewell, my little failures."

Still, he found it odd that Lilith would send a single beast to deal with three immortal gods, a raging army of cultists, hordes of incompetent but highly strong Darklings and himself, a dragon who had aged slower than most and lived for many more years than most of his kin. The beast did not stand a chance, so why had the whore sent it? Drakenvold had a nagging doubt that she was up to something, as usual.