"You know," Sophia pointed out, looking about the caverns as they passed, "I don't think a large dragon could even get in here. The spaces are too tight. It must have taken advantage of a hole the miners made, and sent the younger ones in so they could eat the workers. In that case... Maker, it's probably waiting to ambush us once we make it to the base of the mine."
Sophia recognized that that was where they were headed. The mine was leading down towards the Pit part of the mine, a large open clearing of mostly sand that lay at the bottom of the area, as they'd been able to see on the road towards the mine. It was flat, open, and empty, with little in the way of cover, things that could assist them if the dragon decided to use fire. It obviously had the advantage of maneuverability over them, given that it could cover much greater distances in much less time. Not to mention that a single mistake when in close combat with it would result in an invariably serious injury.
It didn't seem like an easy task for the three of them, to put it lightly. "I must admit, my experience fighting dragons is lacking. Some kind of plan should probably be in place before we go out there. Any thoughts?" The elf looked annoyed at simply being spoken to by her. Sophia had to admit these two were starting to wear on her, what with Sataareth's constant disdain towards everything he saw (save for the dragons. He seemed largely neutral towards them, even when killing them), and Amalia's impenetrably cold demeanor towards those not under her watch, or whatever exactly applied to her role. The elf was willing to see the reason of her request though, and reluctantly speak.
"Dragons made homes in mountainous areas more than forests, and as such I have not encountered many, nor had reason to kill one so large. That said," he continued holding the point of an arrow up, "even if the body is armored, there will be weak points. If we can make it keep its head still for a moment, I believe I could put one of these in an eye, and blind it on a side. Also, the underbelly is typically weaker, if it can be reached."
Sophia's brow furrowed in thought. Holding the head still would be no simple task, and she doubted Amalia's chain tactic would work as effectively as it had for the drake, given the massive increase in size and strength this dragon would have. But it was something, at least. If the elf could make the shot, that was. But Dalish were historically excellent archers, she knew, and Sataareth seemed quite skilled at his craft. Sophia looked to Amalia, to see if she had anything to add. She was willing to bet whatever it was, it would be quick.
In answer, the Qunari fished around in one of her many pouches, extracting what appeared to be a flask of a noxious-looking green liquid. "A potent toxin," she explained. "It will not kill a creature so large as a dragon, but it should slow it somewhat. Especially if it enters through a vulnerable area close to the brain." She held the flask out by its top, indicating that Ithilian should take it. "Also viscous enough to coat an arrowhead, if you like."
As for how they should get the shot lined up in the first place, she had less of a clear answer. Her repertiore was, plainly put, not meant for this sort of thing. Her tools suited the occasions she was called to use them for, and slaying dragons was simply not in the list of tasks she had ever expected to undertake. She had a feeling the woman Sophia was less-than-pleased with her reluctant cooperation, but the fact that she was doing any of this at all was something Amalia still didn't fully understand. It was illogical and by no means required of her. It also carried quite a good chance of her death; she was not well-armored, and her armament, while fine most of the time, left much to be desired here.
"We need to fix its attention on something, so that if the head moves at all, it will do so in predictable patterns, ones that we can control. I will be unable to deal much damage to something of such a nature, which means I'm the best choice for that." She probably wouldn't be able to hurt a dragon, but she was as agile and flexible and focused as she'd ever been, which meant she could probably survive long enough for Sataareth to put an arrow in its eye, which should in theory make the rest of the job easier for himself and Sophia.
Ithilian accepted the flask Amalia offered, certainly seeing the uses it would have. A lot would be riding on Amalia's agility (and how well she could draw its attention), as well as Ithilian's own archery skills, but to be honest, the elf would have it no other way. He certainly wasn't going to like any plan in which the len'alas played a more pivotal role. It was safe to say Ithilian didn't care for putting his fate in the hands of others, especially humans. If he had any misgivings about Amalia volunteering herself as little more than a distraction, he didn't show it.
Sophia wasn't too pleased with the fact that their best plan involved the use of bait and poisons, but she really didn't see an alternative at this point, and as such she couldn't complain. Amalia was correct in saying she was the best choice for getting the dragon's attention. The elf would need to make the shot count, and Sophia herself, while not slow even in her armor, couldn't hope to move fast enough to avoid the dragon's claws or teeth for long. Though she did wonder what the beast would do when Sophia began attacking it in earnest. A distraction could only last for so long.
"It'll have to do," Sophia admitted, taking her sword into both hands. "Let's go, then." She would have said something of a prayer for them, but she had a feeling they wouldn't be too appreciative of it, and so instead she let the words echo about in her own mind as they moved forward, passing through the Bone Pit's lower exit and into the open area beyond.
It was silent at first, and for a moment Sophia allowed herself to think they may have been in clear, but then came the piercing shriek on the wind, echoing off the walls around the Pit, making it unclear which direction the dragon was actually coming from. The sound of wings beating against the wind was all that told Sophia of its location. She looked up just in time to see the creature drop down directly on top of them. She was forced to dive forward to avoid being crushed entirely under its claws, the ground shaking with the force it had come down with. Pushing herself up off the dirt, Sophia looked to find her companions, seeing the elf scrambling away to put some distance between himself and the dragon, just as it exhaled an inferno in his direction.
She didn't have time to see what became of him, however, as the dragon's massive tail came swooshing sideways. Whether the attack was intentional or not didn't really matter, the effect was still the same. Her breath was taken from her in one blow as the scaly weapon slammed into her upper abdomen, a wet crack accompanying the stabs of pain that shot through her body as she was taken from her feet and sent tumbling away. Perhaps the pain had caused her to tighten her grip, because she somehow maintained her hold on her blade.
The gasp for air she performed instinctively backfired on her, causing more stabs in her stomach. It was a moment before she could even get past the pain enough to function, but she did so just in time, recognizing the shape of the dragon facing her through watery eyes. A claw came down towards her, and she was forced to roll to the side, the attack slamming to the ground where she had just been, the roll putting yet more pressure on her ribs. Whatever Amalia was going to do to distract the dragon, she would have to do it fast.
The draconian shriek rent the air, and Amalia pitched herself forward on instinct when the shadow passed over them, tucking her limbs into a tight roll and bouncing back onto her feet as quickly as she was able. Spinning around, she caught sight of the overblown lizard breathing a jet of fire at Ithilian, and her mouth dropped into a scowl. Gritting her teeth, the most trivial of signs that extra resolution really was necessary in the face of such a foolhardy endeavor, she nevertheless hefted her chain and tossed. She aimed not to entangle, for she maintained no illusions that her grip would match a dragon where a drake had nearly bested it. Rather, the weighted end was spun and hurled for no other purpose than to smack into the side of the creature's head, drawing its aggression towards her.
No sooner was the contact made than she abandoned the weapon, dropping it to the ground so that it would not burden her motion. The moment the dragon's slit-pupiled eye found her, Amalia was off like an arrow launched from a crossbow, her feet beating a staccato rhythm on the loose stones underfoot. Maintaining her balance would be important; running at full-tilt sprint here was unwise. She might have to do it anyway, and risk the fall.
The dry scrape of smooth scales over stone was the only warning she had; gathering her legs beneath her, Amalia jumped straight upwards, her heels just brushing the thickly-muscled tail that swept by beneath her. This dodge at least earned her the front half of the dragon, and she had to flip backwards thrice in quick succession to avoid the swipes of its claws as it switched tactics. The Qunari just caught the motion of its ribcage expanding, taking in air like a blacksmith's bellows might.
"Venak hol," she muttered under her breath, stilling her motion. This was going to take timing. If she could get this dragon to level its flames in one large gout, its head would probably remain still enough. Too much movement, and it would be no use at all. Too little, and she'd burn to death. Ebost issala, indeed.
She did not much relish becoming an idiom. All the same, she knew what she had to do. The glimmer of golden-orange in the back of the dragon's throat confirmed it, and even as the conflagration issued forth, Amalia waited. And waited. And waited. Just as she was feeling the underlying heat start to scorch her skin, she dove forward. The heat was blistering for an agonizing few moments, but she burst free on the other side, hitting the ground and rolling to put out the fires. The fortunate part of this maneuver was that the dragon couldn't see her through its own fire, and likely expected that she was cooking right now. Not too far from the truth; she had some nasty burns, particularly in the places where the fire had by chance scorched clean through her clothing already. One side of her ribcage and a good portion of her upper back were a visibly-blistering red, and Amalia found she couldn't move much at present.
Narrowing her focus, the Qunari controlled her breathing, hissing softly when even that hurt more than she'd expected. Still, she knew what to do well enough to keep doing it, even if it did feel as though a thousand of her own needles flayed open every square inch of those wounds. The smell of burned flesh was probably helping disguise the fact that she was alive, so there was that at the very least. Amalia's eyelids felt heavy, but she kept them open, knowing that to lose consciousness now would mean the end of her, most likely. Right now, she had to focus on getting her body to move as she willed it again. This would be the second time she'd attempted this seemingly-impossible task, but this occasion, dragon or not, paled in comparison to the first. She would survive. It was in her very name.
A rock had saved Ithilian, a relatively small thing, positioned at the mouth of the exit they had just taken. The Dalish had taken the rear of the group, letting the two who would be dealing with the dragon more directly go ahead. But the creature had instead dropped down directly on top of them, nearly crushing Sophia and Amalia entirely, and immediately facing Ithilian. His instincts had taken over, and told him to get behind something. The rock had been the closest thing on hand. He vaulted over, dropped low to the ground, and curled himself as tightly to it as he could.
The fire had washed over him, making his existence a temporary inferno, and for a moment there was literally nothing but the heat and the blinding light. But it passed almost as soon as it came, and Ithilian found himself intact. The sound of stomping feet and swiping claws alerted him that the dragon had elected a new target, and that time was short. Remaining behind the boulder simply because he did not wish to make himself defenseless while he prepared, Ithilian applied the poison given to him to an arrow, nocked, and stood as he pulled back the string.
Time seemed to slow as he gradually exhaled, relaxing his previously tensed limbs. His one remaining eye was as sharp as ever. He took in a scene in which the dragon was turned ninety degrees away from him, just about to release a second inferno on Amalia, who was seemingly standing still as though waiting for it. Sophia was on the ground on the other side, clearly injured. It was all or nothing at this point. As the dragon exhaled flame, it's neck extended forward, the head stilling itself. Ithilian's arm guided the arrow into place, releasing the arrow at the end of his exhale.
The string smacked against his bracer, the wood vibrated in his hand, the arrow whistled through the air. For a moment it looked too high, it was going to hit the creature's brow, but the force of nature pulled it down, and the poisoned projectile ripped into the dragon's left eye, burying itself halfway up the shaft. It's head recoiled, at first seemingly confused as to why half of its vision had simply vanished, before the agony clearly set in, and it reeled backwards, pain temporarily blocking its ability to act, or even think. It seemed to spasm for brief moments, writhing about in pain. It would no doubt give Amalia the opportunity the opportunity to get clear of the beast, if she could force herself to move.
Sophia was facing a similar issue. With the dragon no longer focused on her, she had a few moments to try and collect herself, though she wasn't sure that would be enough. Carefully testing the injury with her free hand, she was able to guess that she had multiple ribs broken, at least one on each side. The taste of blood was trickling into her mouth. Amalia had mentioned something of restorative earlier. Sophia was glad she turned down the offer, now that she actually needed them.
As it was, it was the most she could do to push herself up to a knee, planting her sword in the ground to steady herself while she fought to keep her breathing under control. The elf had made his shot, and the Qunari woman had done her part. The dragon was currently stunned more or less by its own agony, giving the three of them a window in which to recuperate, before they would need to set to the work of bringing it down. Sophia knew her weapon was the best suited for the task. She could only hope the Maker saw fit to give her the strength to wield it.
Sophia recognized that that was where they were headed. The mine was leading down towards the Pit part of the mine, a large open clearing of mostly sand that lay at the bottom of the area, as they'd been able to see on the road towards the mine. It was flat, open, and empty, with little in the way of cover, things that could assist them if the dragon decided to use fire. It obviously had the advantage of maneuverability over them, given that it could cover much greater distances in much less time. Not to mention that a single mistake when in close combat with it would result in an invariably serious injury.
It didn't seem like an easy task for the three of them, to put it lightly. "I must admit, my experience fighting dragons is lacking. Some kind of plan should probably be in place before we go out there. Any thoughts?" The elf looked annoyed at simply being spoken to by her. Sophia had to admit these two were starting to wear on her, what with Sataareth's constant disdain towards everything he saw (save for the dragons. He seemed largely neutral towards them, even when killing them), and Amalia's impenetrably cold demeanor towards those not under her watch, or whatever exactly applied to her role. The elf was willing to see the reason of her request though, and reluctantly speak.
"Dragons made homes in mountainous areas more than forests, and as such I have not encountered many, nor had reason to kill one so large. That said," he continued holding the point of an arrow up, "even if the body is armored, there will be weak points. If we can make it keep its head still for a moment, I believe I could put one of these in an eye, and blind it on a side. Also, the underbelly is typically weaker, if it can be reached."
Sophia's brow furrowed in thought. Holding the head still would be no simple task, and she doubted Amalia's chain tactic would work as effectively as it had for the drake, given the massive increase in size and strength this dragon would have. But it was something, at least. If the elf could make the shot, that was. But Dalish were historically excellent archers, she knew, and Sataareth seemed quite skilled at his craft. Sophia looked to Amalia, to see if she had anything to add. She was willing to bet whatever it was, it would be quick.
In answer, the Qunari fished around in one of her many pouches, extracting what appeared to be a flask of a noxious-looking green liquid. "A potent toxin," she explained. "It will not kill a creature so large as a dragon, but it should slow it somewhat. Especially if it enters through a vulnerable area close to the brain." She held the flask out by its top, indicating that Ithilian should take it. "Also viscous enough to coat an arrowhead, if you like."
As for how they should get the shot lined up in the first place, she had less of a clear answer. Her repertiore was, plainly put, not meant for this sort of thing. Her tools suited the occasions she was called to use them for, and slaying dragons was simply not in the list of tasks she had ever expected to undertake. She had a feeling the woman Sophia was less-than-pleased with her reluctant cooperation, but the fact that she was doing any of this at all was something Amalia still didn't fully understand. It was illogical and by no means required of her. It also carried quite a good chance of her death; she was not well-armored, and her armament, while fine most of the time, left much to be desired here.
"We need to fix its attention on something, so that if the head moves at all, it will do so in predictable patterns, ones that we can control. I will be unable to deal much damage to something of such a nature, which means I'm the best choice for that." She probably wouldn't be able to hurt a dragon, but she was as agile and flexible and focused as she'd ever been, which meant she could probably survive long enough for Sataareth to put an arrow in its eye, which should in theory make the rest of the job easier for himself and Sophia.
Ithilian accepted the flask Amalia offered, certainly seeing the uses it would have. A lot would be riding on Amalia's agility (and how well she could draw its attention), as well as Ithilian's own archery skills, but to be honest, the elf would have it no other way. He certainly wasn't going to like any plan in which the len'alas played a more pivotal role. It was safe to say Ithilian didn't care for putting his fate in the hands of others, especially humans. If he had any misgivings about Amalia volunteering herself as little more than a distraction, he didn't show it.
Sophia wasn't too pleased with the fact that their best plan involved the use of bait and poisons, but she really didn't see an alternative at this point, and as such she couldn't complain. Amalia was correct in saying she was the best choice for getting the dragon's attention. The elf would need to make the shot count, and Sophia herself, while not slow even in her armor, couldn't hope to move fast enough to avoid the dragon's claws or teeth for long. Though she did wonder what the beast would do when Sophia began attacking it in earnest. A distraction could only last for so long.
"It'll have to do," Sophia admitted, taking her sword into both hands. "Let's go, then." She would have said something of a prayer for them, but she had a feeling they wouldn't be too appreciative of it, and so instead she let the words echo about in her own mind as they moved forward, passing through the Bone Pit's lower exit and into the open area beyond.
It was silent at first, and for a moment Sophia allowed herself to think they may have been in clear, but then came the piercing shriek on the wind, echoing off the walls around the Pit, making it unclear which direction the dragon was actually coming from. The sound of wings beating against the wind was all that told Sophia of its location. She looked up just in time to see the creature drop down directly on top of them. She was forced to dive forward to avoid being crushed entirely under its claws, the ground shaking with the force it had come down with. Pushing herself up off the dirt, Sophia looked to find her companions, seeing the elf scrambling away to put some distance between himself and the dragon, just as it exhaled an inferno in his direction.
She didn't have time to see what became of him, however, as the dragon's massive tail came swooshing sideways. Whether the attack was intentional or not didn't really matter, the effect was still the same. Her breath was taken from her in one blow as the scaly weapon slammed into her upper abdomen, a wet crack accompanying the stabs of pain that shot through her body as she was taken from her feet and sent tumbling away. Perhaps the pain had caused her to tighten her grip, because she somehow maintained her hold on her blade.
The gasp for air she performed instinctively backfired on her, causing more stabs in her stomach. It was a moment before she could even get past the pain enough to function, but she did so just in time, recognizing the shape of the dragon facing her through watery eyes. A claw came down towards her, and she was forced to roll to the side, the attack slamming to the ground where she had just been, the roll putting yet more pressure on her ribs. Whatever Amalia was going to do to distract the dragon, she would have to do it fast.
The draconian shriek rent the air, and Amalia pitched herself forward on instinct when the shadow passed over them, tucking her limbs into a tight roll and bouncing back onto her feet as quickly as she was able. Spinning around, she caught sight of the overblown lizard breathing a jet of fire at Ithilian, and her mouth dropped into a scowl. Gritting her teeth, the most trivial of signs that extra resolution really was necessary in the face of such a foolhardy endeavor, she nevertheless hefted her chain and tossed. She aimed not to entangle, for she maintained no illusions that her grip would match a dragon where a drake had nearly bested it. Rather, the weighted end was spun and hurled for no other purpose than to smack into the side of the creature's head, drawing its aggression towards her.
No sooner was the contact made than she abandoned the weapon, dropping it to the ground so that it would not burden her motion. The moment the dragon's slit-pupiled eye found her, Amalia was off like an arrow launched from a crossbow, her feet beating a staccato rhythm on the loose stones underfoot. Maintaining her balance would be important; running at full-tilt sprint here was unwise. She might have to do it anyway, and risk the fall.
The dry scrape of smooth scales over stone was the only warning she had; gathering her legs beneath her, Amalia jumped straight upwards, her heels just brushing the thickly-muscled tail that swept by beneath her. This dodge at least earned her the front half of the dragon, and she had to flip backwards thrice in quick succession to avoid the swipes of its claws as it switched tactics. The Qunari just caught the motion of its ribcage expanding, taking in air like a blacksmith's bellows might.
"Venak hol," she muttered under her breath, stilling her motion. This was going to take timing. If she could get this dragon to level its flames in one large gout, its head would probably remain still enough. Too much movement, and it would be no use at all. Too little, and she'd burn to death. Ebost issala, indeed.
She did not much relish becoming an idiom. All the same, she knew what she had to do. The glimmer of golden-orange in the back of the dragon's throat confirmed it, and even as the conflagration issued forth, Amalia waited. And waited. And waited. Just as she was feeling the underlying heat start to scorch her skin, she dove forward. The heat was blistering for an agonizing few moments, but she burst free on the other side, hitting the ground and rolling to put out the fires. The fortunate part of this maneuver was that the dragon couldn't see her through its own fire, and likely expected that she was cooking right now. Not too far from the truth; she had some nasty burns, particularly in the places where the fire had by chance scorched clean through her clothing already. One side of her ribcage and a good portion of her upper back were a visibly-blistering red, and Amalia found she couldn't move much at present.
Narrowing her focus, the Qunari controlled her breathing, hissing softly when even that hurt more than she'd expected. Still, she knew what to do well enough to keep doing it, even if it did feel as though a thousand of her own needles flayed open every square inch of those wounds. The smell of burned flesh was probably helping disguise the fact that she was alive, so there was that at the very least. Amalia's eyelids felt heavy, but she kept them open, knowing that to lose consciousness now would mean the end of her, most likely. Right now, she had to focus on getting her body to move as she willed it again. This would be the second time she'd attempted this seemingly-impossible task, but this occasion, dragon or not, paled in comparison to the first. She would survive. It was in her very name.
A rock had saved Ithilian, a relatively small thing, positioned at the mouth of the exit they had just taken. The Dalish had taken the rear of the group, letting the two who would be dealing with the dragon more directly go ahead. But the creature had instead dropped down directly on top of them, nearly crushing Sophia and Amalia entirely, and immediately facing Ithilian. His instincts had taken over, and told him to get behind something. The rock had been the closest thing on hand. He vaulted over, dropped low to the ground, and curled himself as tightly to it as he could.
The fire had washed over him, making his existence a temporary inferno, and for a moment there was literally nothing but the heat and the blinding light. But it passed almost as soon as it came, and Ithilian found himself intact. The sound of stomping feet and swiping claws alerted him that the dragon had elected a new target, and that time was short. Remaining behind the boulder simply because he did not wish to make himself defenseless while he prepared, Ithilian applied the poison given to him to an arrow, nocked, and stood as he pulled back the string.
Time seemed to slow as he gradually exhaled, relaxing his previously tensed limbs. His one remaining eye was as sharp as ever. He took in a scene in which the dragon was turned ninety degrees away from him, just about to release a second inferno on Amalia, who was seemingly standing still as though waiting for it. Sophia was on the ground on the other side, clearly injured. It was all or nothing at this point. As the dragon exhaled flame, it's neck extended forward, the head stilling itself. Ithilian's arm guided the arrow into place, releasing the arrow at the end of his exhale.
The string smacked against his bracer, the wood vibrated in his hand, the arrow whistled through the air. For a moment it looked too high, it was going to hit the creature's brow, but the force of nature pulled it down, and the poisoned projectile ripped into the dragon's left eye, burying itself halfway up the shaft. It's head recoiled, at first seemingly confused as to why half of its vision had simply vanished, before the agony clearly set in, and it reeled backwards, pain temporarily blocking its ability to act, or even think. It seemed to spasm for brief moments, writhing about in pain. It would no doubt give Amalia the opportunity the opportunity to get clear of the beast, if she could force herself to move.
Sophia was facing a similar issue. With the dragon no longer focused on her, she had a few moments to try and collect herself, though she wasn't sure that would be enough. Carefully testing the injury with her free hand, she was able to guess that she had multiple ribs broken, at least one on each side. The taste of blood was trickling into her mouth. Amalia had mentioned something of restorative earlier. Sophia was glad she turned down the offer, now that she actually needed them.
As it was, it was the most she could do to push herself up to a knee, planting her sword in the ground to steady herself while she fought to keep her breathing under control. The elf had made his shot, and the Qunari woman had done her part. The dragon was currently stunned more or less by its own agony, giving the three of them a window in which to recuperate, before they would need to set to the work of bringing it down. Sophia knew her weapon was the best suited for the task. She could only hope the Maker saw fit to give her the strength to wield it.