Behind you, Sparrow. The warning came early enough to warrant an inelegant jerking-halt towards the High Dragon. She took advantage of her forward-momentum to pivot on her right leg and swing the dragging mace in a wide arc, swinging her around to face the dragonling nipping at her heels. If it weren't for its gaping maw full of scissor-sharp teeth and pulsing gullet shifting embers through its skin, she might of thought it looked like a hound chasing a thief away. Her swing missed a few inches above its head, but pulled her along with it. Fortunately, it's snapping jaws missed the meat of her arm by a few inches, though she felt the heat wafting against her face.
Time seemed to dragâand she didn't have enough of it to swing her mace back around by the time it skidded to a halt and turned its head back towards her. She whipped her hand in front of her and focused her energy into her fingertips, into her palm, willing coldness through her core. It shivered down her forearm and burst forth in a spray of sharp icicles, shattering across the dragonlings head. A startled laughed bubbled from her lips, and she took the opportunity to grapple back onto the handle of her mace, swinging it in an upwards motion, while the creature was dazed. It's jaw cracked backwards, and then, it's body followed. She did not wait to see whether or not she'd killed it.
Aurora realized that she may have been a little too effective at providing a distraction, especially when the dragon lifted off with her eyes turned toward her. Ashton turned toward her with eyes wide like saucers before he bolted out to the side and out of the way of the incoming fireball. Aurora's eyes widened as well, but she took step backward to first set her heel, and then scooped upward with her staff, summoning a thick veil of frost in an attempt to counteract at least some of the fireball so that she wouldn't end up as a charred crater in the sand.
Fortunately, she was not alone. Nostariel, still towards the back and well-protected from any errant dragonlings, had the time to set her feet, and draw her bow, but not enough time to fit an arrow to the string. Fortunately, Sparrow and Aurora were not the only ones whoâd been practicing, and an arrow did in fact appearâmade entirely of ice. With a softly-released breath, the Warden relaxed her hand, and the magical projectile flew, striking right at the center of the fireball itself, the burst of ice that followed rapidly cooling the dragonâs breath weapon. It would hit Auroraâs ice shield at a much lower temperature, now.
Aurora didn't just wait to see what happened. As soon as she summoned her frost veil, she dove out to the side to clear the blast radius. The fire struck the ice and steamed violently and went out with a bang. Had Nostariel not cooled the fireball with her arrow, then Aurora's veil by itself might not have been enough to save her from being scorched. Rolling to a stop on her knees as the steam fell around her, Aurora swung her staff around and shot off a series of lightning bolts toward the passing dragon from the staff's ambient enchantment.
Ashton for his part followed with more arrows, targetting the creature's leathery wings and the joints that connected them to her body. He wisely chose to not stop moving this time.
There was nothing quite as good for oneâs confidence in a situation like this than knowing you had the best of friends at your back and sides. So thought Lucien, in an absent sort of way, as he once again ran after the dragon, eyes to the sky to get a good idea of where she would land. When she did, perhaps out of desire not to have holes poked in her wings by the archers in the party, he was there, meeting a sideswept set of claws with the blade of Everburn, his boots digging deep furrows into the gravelly ground beneath his feet. In the end, both he and the dragon were mutually stopped cold. Rilien occupied himself mostly by weaving in and out of Lucienâs shadow, using the gaps provided by the chevalierâs broader motions to add short cuts and stabs to the attack pattern without presenting much in the way of an additional target. When both drew to a stop, he capitalized, punching the blade of his knife into the dragonâs snout, when withdrawing again just as quickly.
Breaking the stalemate, Lucien stabbed swiftly upwards for her snout, meeting air when she reared her head back in time. Thankfully, she seemed to be fully occupied fending off himself and Rilien this time.
Sparrow rounded towards the dragon's flank as well. She'd seen Rilien and Lucien attacking from the front, adding a large, bulky weapon into the fray wouldn't help them much. Besides, she was not graceful and once she swungâstopping was difficult. She skidded to a halt behind the dragon's left heel and ducked under its sweeping tail, careful not to be on the receiving end of its wild kicks, and dug in her own. Like a lumberjack preparing to fell a particularly large tree, Sparrow tensed the muscles of her arms, and swung her mace towards the fleshy under-part of its foot.
Sophia found herself targeted by a larger drake, matured enough to have sprouted wings from its back, the creature rallying the lesser dragonlings somewhat. It led a charge forward, screeching as it tried to chomp down on the nearest target. Sophia met the charge with a swing of her blade, burying the edge of it deep in the dragon's chest, enough to hit the bone and set a spattering of dragon's blood onto her armor and the ground. It failed to kill the creature outright however, and their proximity became a problem. Sophia was forced to take one hand off the handle of her blade and grab the drake by the throat, to try and keep its snapping jaws away from her. It raked at her with claws, trying to find some weakness in her armor, and thus far failing. But her blade was stuck in its chest, and the awkward pair struggled about in place, trying to gain the upper hand.
Fortunately, help was not long in coming. A well-placed shout from Tessa drew the attention of Donnelly and Idris, and the pair finished off their dragonling foes with haste, moving to help Sophia. Idris, armed with a heavy wooden quarterstaff, beat off the additional dragonlings led to the location by Sophiaâs obvious predicament, while Donnelly, broad-bladed sword in one hand and kite shield in the other, moved in to help Sophia, blocking an erratic wing-buffet with the shield before stepping in smoothly under the drakeâs guard, swinging his sword with controlled strength for the middle of its neck, using the spikes to guess where the bones must be.
The blade sank about halfway into the neck, far enough to be fatal, and he sawed it forward, extracting it with minimal fanfare as its grip on Sophia slackened and it slowly collapsed.
The high dragon meanwhile was growing frustrated at the offensive thrown against her, several arrows having weakened her wings, a number of solid hits landed up close, magic spells taking their toll. When Ithilian landed an arrow through her forked tongue, her attention was pulled up to the vantage point he occupied with Tessa, and she soon took off, heading straight for them.
"That's not good," the elf muttered, shortly before he was forced to dive off of his elevated position. The dragon landed heavily upon the plateau, turning sharply and stomping around the rise, roaring displeasure. Ithilian landed with a roll below, quickly exchanging his bow for his blades, and taking down the nearest dragonling. Tessa was not as quick off the vantage, taking a moment to identify the next one in range, before the incoming dragon forced her to jump off the incline, the impact of its landing showering her with debris.
From her vantage point, the high dragon began to launch balls of flame from her gullet down at the battle below, flames that would do little to her children, but would cook the would-be dragonslayers if they did not avoid them.
âDamndamndamndamndamn,â Tessa muttered as she rolled to her feet, the word repeating in a frenetic rhythm not so different from the one her feet beat on the ground as she sought cover, imagining, not so inaccurately, that the heat she could feel on her back was a fireball chasing her down.
In the end, it started to scorch, and she was forced to dive sideways into a dip in the ground, covering her head with her hands as the flaming sphere passed overhead. When the heat seemed to her to have gone, she poked her head up from the small dip sheâd laid in, then picked herself up from the ground. She could feel that her back had suffered some damage under her leathers, but judging from the lack of crippling pain, it probably wasnât too bad. It took her a bit longer to reach the new vantage point than she would have liked, but at least the dragon wasnât paying attention to her anymore.
Ashton's choice to not stop moving proved an intelligent decision. One of the fireballs was aimed directly at the archer, causing him to shift focus from shooting at it to running from it. Turning to the side, he bolted as fast as his legs could carry and as soon as he felt the broiling heat on the back of his neck, he dove. The impact threw tongues of flame all around him, but Ashton had avoided the brunt of the explosion.
He rolled and came to a stop on his knees beside Nostariel, the back of his armor singed, and the bits of cloth in his uniform singed. Smoke was still rising from his shoulder when he nocked another arrow and fired it without a hint of hesitation. Then he paused for a beat, tilting his head toward Nos and said, "We can talk about how heroic that was later," before nocking another arrow. An attempt was made to stand again, but he fell back to his knees, the energy taken out of his legs by his proximity to the shockwave. Though he escaped the worst of it, he did not get out completely unharmed.
âAnd I shall congratulate you on your unparalleled skill at running away.â Nostariel smiled briefly, but there was no time for much more than that, as the dragon had begun to issue more balls of flame from her mouth, and keeping well away from those was top priority for the moment. In fact, it was about all she had the opportunity to do at the moment, though she did occasionally shoot more icy projectiles at the dragonlings or their mother, to great effect in the former case, and not so much with the latter.
The dragon was, unfortunately, capable of moving much more quickly through the air than Lucien was over the ground, and without someone to distract it, it became considerably more dangerous for everyone. This was something that Amalia did not have to think very hard to know. She could see he and Rilien making their way over, but in the meantime, the battlefield was slowly descending into complete chaos. Pursing her lips tightly together, she drew two knives from her back, short and sturdy, and crouched low to present little visual target, circling around behind the dragon and creeping up on it as it continued to aim and shoot spheres of flame towards the other combatants.
In the end, she didnât think much about it at allâshe just did what seemed most likely to achieve the end she was after. It had to happen quickly, and she could not hesitate. That in mind, she bounded into a sprint, her treads quiet against the sounds of battle, and jumped onto the highest point of the dragonâs tail she could reach, sprinting up the rest as far as she could before the dragon reacted violently, pausing in her assault of the field to try and throw Amalia off her back. It was at this point that the knives came into play; Amalia willingly buckled her knees, plunging one of the knives with all the force of her weight into the creatureâs shoulder, sliding it as well as she could between the more armored plates.
This went about as well as one could expect, and the dragonâs attention was now fully on getting her away from it and into range of attack. The second knife joined the first on the opposite side, and Amalia held on as well as her grip and the strength in her legs would allow. It was certainly well enough to maintain her positioning despite the dragonâs thrashing, though she had to grit her teeth in order not to bite her tongue.
What she did not expect was what happened nextârather than try and throw her from the ground, the dragon beat her wings several times and jumped off the plateau sheâd landed on, taking to the air with Amalia still on her back. From the ground, it appeared as though she ascended almost vertically into the sky, letting out a horrendous, grating shriek that sounded like stone being scraped against metal. A few of the Lions paused in their motions at the sound, Estella flinching visibly.
The dragon reappeared some moments later, twisting through the air in a series of barrel rolls. Amalia was beginning to feel distinctly sick, but sheâd locked her grip and refused to relinquish it, knowing that to do so would mean her death. After what seemed like hours, but had in reality been perhaps a minute, the dragon landed hard on the ground, the jolt dislodging her passenger, who at last slid off one side and landed on shaky feet, promptly falling over when her legs gave out from under her. The frantic flight had clearly tired the dragon as well, however, and she was sluggish in her efforts to turn around and finish off her violent passenger, sluggish enough that Lucien could intervene, striking up at the softer scales between her forelimbs, leaving a bloody gash and forcing her to deal with the more immediate threat.
The dragon attempted to get at Lucien, but his positioning was just close enough to make it difficult, and her predicament was only made more obvious when Rilien intervened, waiting for her to shift in such a way as to bear much of her weight on one forelimb rather than the other. At that point, Rilien took his chance, drawing the longest blade he had and darting into towards the foot, bearing downwards with all his weight.
The blade sank into the dragonâs flesh and emerged from the other end, puncturing the ground and effectively staking her in place. The blade, like the others, had been enchanted, and ice began to coat along her limb, reinforcing the hold. There would be no more repositioning for a while, but it wouldnât hold forever. Whatever they did, they had to be quick about it.
Tessa, who had tracked the dragonâs movement through the sky, caught something from her peripherals. âHey, incoming!â The Lions, nearest the new arrival, scattered, diving out of the way in time to avoid being crushed under the landing of a second, smaller, but still formidable dragon, apparently summoned by the high dragonâs call.
âShit.â
"Don't sound surprised, this is Kirkwall. Shit gets worse before it gets better," Vesper said to Estella. The Guard had been amongst the Lions, doing their part to slay the dragonlings, but with the appearance of the matured dragon, their priorities shifted accordingly. With a bang of her sword against her shield, the four guardsmen formed into a small unit, with a Vesper and another shield bearer standing at the front and a pair of swordsman waiting in the wings behind them. "Get your Lions, or are you going to let the Guard do all the work?"
âThey arenât my Lions,â Estella replied, her tone tinged with something that was almost affront, though it revealed its true nature in the comment that followed. âWe are the Commanderâs Lions.â Nonetheless, she readied her sword, shifting her grip so that she was holding the curved blade with both hands.
âDamn straight,â confirmed Cor, Taking up a spot at her left. His own sword was considerably larger than Estellaâs, built to be wielded always with the strength of both hands, like Lucienâs. Donnelly took up a post on her other side, his shield to the middle, where it would protect both of them to some degree. Idris and Tessa ranged out a little further behind, but they would definitely be tackling this as a unit.
âAll right. Letâs go guys.â A series of nods, and the Lions charged, staggering their speed so that the first fireball clanged firmly into Donnellyâs metal kite shield, deflected upwards by the deliberate angle of it. Just like a mageâs spell would have been. Cor and Estella split off thereafter, letting Donnelly take the middle and moving to attack the flanks. Tessa provided cover fire for their approach, and Idris worked his way through a knot of smaller dragons attempting to led assistance to the other, weaving and jumping between them like a man of half his years.
Donnellyâs momentum carried him practically into the dragon, though he managed to avoid getting mauled by dint of excellent reflex, the creatureâs forearm slamming into the shield heâd raised just in time. It still hit hard, and he staggered heavily sideways. At about the same time though, Cor reached one of the sides, slashing brutally at a back hamstring. It was hard to drag his sword through all those scales, and so the wound was nowhere near deep as heâd intended, but nevertheless, it was an effective distraction. Estella closed from the other side, her enchanted sword finding a place to punch through the natural armor near the wing joint on her side. The dragonâs spiked tail swung for her in response, and her feet were knocked out from under her, forcing her to somersault backwards in an ungainly pile of limbs to regain her footing, spitting strands of hair from her mouth that had once been in her ponytail.
The aggression from the Lions, and Estella's hit in particular, gave Sophia an opening to get around to the dragon's other side, and when the tail swung away to try and hit the younger woman she moved in for her own chance. Ducking under a flapping leathery wing, Sophia struck low, near the rear leg, stabbing up into the underbelly, needing a great deal of force to actually pierce through. Her blade sank in deep, though, causing the creature a great deal of pain, and soon drawing its ire back on her. Quickly, she withdrew her sword and backed up quickly, just in time to avoid the swing slash of the foreleg that tried to retaliate on her.
The Guard was not about to be outdone by a bunch of mercenaries in their city. Vesper lead the guard at an angle toward the front while its neck was turned and focused on fending off Sophia. They struck as one, four blades piercing its shoulder and leaving behind a number of wounds. The act had also garnered the full attention of the the dragon and it whipped its long neck around, dousing them in flame. They'd expected retribution of course, and prepared accordingly. Vesper and the guard to her side set down their towershields and hid behind them, the other two swordsmen hiding behind them. When the gout of flame tapered off, smoke billowed from the red hot surface of the shields, and the ground was scorched around them, but the guardsmen themselves were unharmed, if a bit warm.
The dragon didn't allow them the time for a counter attack, swiping at them with its forearm. Again, it was met with the pair of tower shields, both individuals grunting under the effort and being slid backward with the force. The swordsmen were quick, and struck not a moment after, drawing deep ribbons of blood from the creature's arm. It recoiled from the shock, giving Vesper and the other guard a moment of respite before their ears were assaulted with a shrieking cry. The dragon began to back out and it beat its wings to make room to take to the air. Vesper had other plans, however.
She spared a glance between the guards and indicated with a nod of her head its wings, each understanding the unspoken plan. They approached the escaping dragon, but before meeting it proper, the two shield bearers turned to face the swordsman and dropped to a knee, bracing the shields with their shoulders. The swordsmen had staggered a moment to make room to get and running start, and once their platforms were set, bolted off. They met the shields with their feet, and were launched into the air and onto the dragon's back. Each taking a wing, they plunged their blades deep into the joints, rending its ability to fly.
The two on the ground followed up by rushing forward and slamming into the dragon's torso with their shields throwing it off of its feet. "Someone kill the damn thing!" Vesper ordered the Lions.
The dragon, however, was quick to its feet, and while hobbled, still a brutal creature with strength in reserve. Clawing its way back to its feet, it roared at terrible volume, great sweeps of its tail and lashes of its limbs pushing everyone back, and disarming several in the process. Gouts of fire followed, threatening to cook anyone unwary enough to be caught, even as it swayed dangerously from side to side, worn down by the numerous wounds that had been inflicted upon its body.
Tessaâs bow was crushed beneath someone she didnât recognize whoâd fallen beside her, one of the guardsmen, she could only assume. Not that she blamed him for itâshe was pretty sure heâd broken the worst of her fall, so it was hard to hold anything against the fellow. Looking around, she could spot Estella not too far away, clambering to her feet with her hand pressed to one side of her ribcage, one eye closed and a rivulet of blood carving its way down her face from somewhere just over her left eyebrow. Idris was farther off, not having taken any of the direct hits, but his arm looked to be reddened and blistering quickly. Corâs sword had been snapped in halfâshe wasnât sure how, but maybe the dragon had stepped on it or something.
Donnelly looked to be completely out of commission, if the way his legs were twisted around was any indication. She remembered him taking the brunt of the first few hits in an attempt to let them all get away. She found that her own ankle was in too much pain to move, but she wasnât sure she had a choice. Minus a cut lip, Cor looked fine, and though she couldnât hear them, she could tell he was talking to Donnelly, and with a short nod, the elven lad took up the humanâs sword, shorter than what he usually used. Thanks to their training, though, she knew heâd know how to use it.
For the moment, the dragon was still trying to regain its balance, but they didnât have long. Not too far off lay someoneâs lost crossbow, and Tessa clenched her teeth. Rolling off the guardsman and onto her belly, she crawled over to it, mostly using her elbows to pull herself along with a bit of help from her knees. âCor, go! Stel and I will cover you from behind!â Laying hands on the crossbow, she pulled a breath into her lungs and rolled over again, half-rising so she could brace the weapon properly as possible in a half-sitting, half-laying position. She was a fish in barrel if the dragon decided to use fire, but sheâd cross that bridge when she came to it, if she ever did.
For a moment, Estella was frozen by indecision, but when Cor glanced over at her to confirm, she nodded sharply. There was only one way she could hope to succeed in laying enough cover for him to succeed, and she knew what she had to do. She just wasnât sure she could do it.
You must.
âDo it.â Cor needed no more incentive, and was off like a shot. Behind him, Estella reached deep into herself, dipping for the first time in years into the half-familiar Fade.
Fire had always been easier to her hands than anything, and it was fire that answered her call now. Not much use against a dragon, but she didnât have to kill it, she just had to distract it. Her first few attempts fizzled out before they even reached the dragon, one whizzing dangerously close to the tip of one of Corâs pointed ears, though she doubted he even noticed. With the third, she hit her stride a bit, and though it was hardly masterful, the flames did hit the target, drawing its attention while Tessa pelted it from the other side.
âOver here, you ugly son of a Darkspawn!â The dragonâs much more impressive fireball was its reply, and she had to sprint to the left to avoid it, firing as she was able. Fortunately, she didnât have to keep it up for long, because she could already feel her reserves drawing close to empty. Sheâd never been a talented mage.
With a great running leap, Cor looped one of his arms partway over the dragonâs shoulder, gripping one of the spikes that protruded from its upper spine and swinging, locking his legs around the middle portion of its neck. Pulling himself up by this hold, he torqued himself upwards, driving the sword up under the soft part of the throat, under the base of the tongue, a vulnerability that would have been otherwise unreachable. Wrenching the sword back out again, he dropped, landing in a crouch and promptly bolting to the side before the dragon fell, as otherwise it would likely have crushed him. When it fell, it moved no more.
A massive roar from across the battlefield announced that the original High Dragon was still alive, though more injured than it had been. Ashton stood a distance away, having once again found the strength in his legs to get back to moving, though he was noticeably more sluggish. His quiver was also steadily drying up, with the amount of arrows countable with his fingers. They needed to finish this soon, else the dragon would be the one grinding them down-- not the way it was supposed to be. Ashton reached back for another arrow when his fingers brushed against the fletching of one of his specialized arrows. He hesitated for a moment, a plan formulating in his head.
Well, it wouldn't hurt anything. Dropping the original arrow he was searching for, he plucked the one with the burlap sack for a tip. He nocked it and waited patiently. Aurora, much closer than she was initially, stood panting, downing the last of her mana potions. The dragon roared once more and reared her neck back, and Aurora prepared a spell to counteract the gout of flame that was sure to follow. Instead of spitting flame however, an arrow snaked its way through the air and went into the dragon's open mouth, smacking against the back of her throat. A muffled pop and bright flash replaced the fire, and the dragon stopped everything it was doing in a massive fit of coughing-- leaving it stunned.
Aurora watched in confusion for a moment, wondering what just had happened before shaking it off. She was presented with a prime opportunity, and it wasn't one she planned on wasting. Digging deep into her reserves of magic, she dipped into the fade. Thrusting her staff deep into the sand at her feet she used what was left of her mana and summoned a pair of spires beneath the dragon's feet on one side, and forced them to rise as high as she cool manage. The effort expended was massive and when she reached her limit she fell forward on her hands and knees, panting and forcing as much air as she could into her lungs.
The effect was as envisioned however, having her balance shattered by Aurora's earthen spires, the dragon tipped over and fell onto its side, its head bouncing as it hit the ground.
A falling dragon was not terribly difficult to predict a few seconds ahead of time, considering how long it took something that large to actually topple. As a result, Lucien was exactly where he needed to be when it did, standing just beside where its head contacted the ground. Before it could so much as move, Everburn was whistling through the air, and his strength and leverage, as well as the heat of the blade, moved it through the thick protection of the scales and out the other side, severing the head completely from the neck.
With a heavy exhale, he stepped back and lowered his ancestral sword. âItâs done.â
Time seemed to dragâand she didn't have enough of it to swing her mace back around by the time it skidded to a halt and turned its head back towards her. She whipped her hand in front of her and focused her energy into her fingertips, into her palm, willing coldness through her core. It shivered down her forearm and burst forth in a spray of sharp icicles, shattering across the dragonlings head. A startled laughed bubbled from her lips, and she took the opportunity to grapple back onto the handle of her mace, swinging it in an upwards motion, while the creature was dazed. It's jaw cracked backwards, and then, it's body followed. She did not wait to see whether or not she'd killed it.
Aurora realized that she may have been a little too effective at providing a distraction, especially when the dragon lifted off with her eyes turned toward her. Ashton turned toward her with eyes wide like saucers before he bolted out to the side and out of the way of the incoming fireball. Aurora's eyes widened as well, but she took step backward to first set her heel, and then scooped upward with her staff, summoning a thick veil of frost in an attempt to counteract at least some of the fireball so that she wouldn't end up as a charred crater in the sand.
Fortunately, she was not alone. Nostariel, still towards the back and well-protected from any errant dragonlings, had the time to set her feet, and draw her bow, but not enough time to fit an arrow to the string. Fortunately, Sparrow and Aurora were not the only ones whoâd been practicing, and an arrow did in fact appearâmade entirely of ice. With a softly-released breath, the Warden relaxed her hand, and the magical projectile flew, striking right at the center of the fireball itself, the burst of ice that followed rapidly cooling the dragonâs breath weapon. It would hit Auroraâs ice shield at a much lower temperature, now.
Aurora didn't just wait to see what happened. As soon as she summoned her frost veil, she dove out to the side to clear the blast radius. The fire struck the ice and steamed violently and went out with a bang. Had Nostariel not cooled the fireball with her arrow, then Aurora's veil by itself might not have been enough to save her from being scorched. Rolling to a stop on her knees as the steam fell around her, Aurora swung her staff around and shot off a series of lightning bolts toward the passing dragon from the staff's ambient enchantment.
Ashton for his part followed with more arrows, targetting the creature's leathery wings and the joints that connected them to her body. He wisely chose to not stop moving this time.
There was nothing quite as good for oneâs confidence in a situation like this than knowing you had the best of friends at your back and sides. So thought Lucien, in an absent sort of way, as he once again ran after the dragon, eyes to the sky to get a good idea of where she would land. When she did, perhaps out of desire not to have holes poked in her wings by the archers in the party, he was there, meeting a sideswept set of claws with the blade of Everburn, his boots digging deep furrows into the gravelly ground beneath his feet. In the end, both he and the dragon were mutually stopped cold. Rilien occupied himself mostly by weaving in and out of Lucienâs shadow, using the gaps provided by the chevalierâs broader motions to add short cuts and stabs to the attack pattern without presenting much in the way of an additional target. When both drew to a stop, he capitalized, punching the blade of his knife into the dragonâs snout, when withdrawing again just as quickly.
Breaking the stalemate, Lucien stabbed swiftly upwards for her snout, meeting air when she reared her head back in time. Thankfully, she seemed to be fully occupied fending off himself and Rilien this time.
Sparrow rounded towards the dragon's flank as well. She'd seen Rilien and Lucien attacking from the front, adding a large, bulky weapon into the fray wouldn't help them much. Besides, she was not graceful and once she swungâstopping was difficult. She skidded to a halt behind the dragon's left heel and ducked under its sweeping tail, careful not to be on the receiving end of its wild kicks, and dug in her own. Like a lumberjack preparing to fell a particularly large tree, Sparrow tensed the muscles of her arms, and swung her mace towards the fleshy under-part of its foot.
Sophia found herself targeted by a larger drake, matured enough to have sprouted wings from its back, the creature rallying the lesser dragonlings somewhat. It led a charge forward, screeching as it tried to chomp down on the nearest target. Sophia met the charge with a swing of her blade, burying the edge of it deep in the dragon's chest, enough to hit the bone and set a spattering of dragon's blood onto her armor and the ground. It failed to kill the creature outright however, and their proximity became a problem. Sophia was forced to take one hand off the handle of her blade and grab the drake by the throat, to try and keep its snapping jaws away from her. It raked at her with claws, trying to find some weakness in her armor, and thus far failing. But her blade was stuck in its chest, and the awkward pair struggled about in place, trying to gain the upper hand.
Fortunately, help was not long in coming. A well-placed shout from Tessa drew the attention of Donnelly and Idris, and the pair finished off their dragonling foes with haste, moving to help Sophia. Idris, armed with a heavy wooden quarterstaff, beat off the additional dragonlings led to the location by Sophiaâs obvious predicament, while Donnelly, broad-bladed sword in one hand and kite shield in the other, moved in to help Sophia, blocking an erratic wing-buffet with the shield before stepping in smoothly under the drakeâs guard, swinging his sword with controlled strength for the middle of its neck, using the spikes to guess where the bones must be.
The blade sank about halfway into the neck, far enough to be fatal, and he sawed it forward, extracting it with minimal fanfare as its grip on Sophia slackened and it slowly collapsed.
The high dragon meanwhile was growing frustrated at the offensive thrown against her, several arrows having weakened her wings, a number of solid hits landed up close, magic spells taking their toll. When Ithilian landed an arrow through her forked tongue, her attention was pulled up to the vantage point he occupied with Tessa, and she soon took off, heading straight for them.
"That's not good," the elf muttered, shortly before he was forced to dive off of his elevated position. The dragon landed heavily upon the plateau, turning sharply and stomping around the rise, roaring displeasure. Ithilian landed with a roll below, quickly exchanging his bow for his blades, and taking down the nearest dragonling. Tessa was not as quick off the vantage, taking a moment to identify the next one in range, before the incoming dragon forced her to jump off the incline, the impact of its landing showering her with debris.
From her vantage point, the high dragon began to launch balls of flame from her gullet down at the battle below, flames that would do little to her children, but would cook the would-be dragonslayers if they did not avoid them.
âDamndamndamndamndamn,â Tessa muttered as she rolled to her feet, the word repeating in a frenetic rhythm not so different from the one her feet beat on the ground as she sought cover, imagining, not so inaccurately, that the heat she could feel on her back was a fireball chasing her down.
In the end, it started to scorch, and she was forced to dive sideways into a dip in the ground, covering her head with her hands as the flaming sphere passed overhead. When the heat seemed to her to have gone, she poked her head up from the small dip sheâd laid in, then picked herself up from the ground. She could feel that her back had suffered some damage under her leathers, but judging from the lack of crippling pain, it probably wasnât too bad. It took her a bit longer to reach the new vantage point than she would have liked, but at least the dragon wasnât paying attention to her anymore.
Ashton's choice to not stop moving proved an intelligent decision. One of the fireballs was aimed directly at the archer, causing him to shift focus from shooting at it to running from it. Turning to the side, he bolted as fast as his legs could carry and as soon as he felt the broiling heat on the back of his neck, he dove. The impact threw tongues of flame all around him, but Ashton had avoided the brunt of the explosion.
He rolled and came to a stop on his knees beside Nostariel, the back of his armor singed, and the bits of cloth in his uniform singed. Smoke was still rising from his shoulder when he nocked another arrow and fired it without a hint of hesitation. Then he paused for a beat, tilting his head toward Nos and said, "We can talk about how heroic that was later," before nocking another arrow. An attempt was made to stand again, but he fell back to his knees, the energy taken out of his legs by his proximity to the shockwave. Though he escaped the worst of it, he did not get out completely unharmed.
âAnd I shall congratulate you on your unparalleled skill at running away.â Nostariel smiled briefly, but there was no time for much more than that, as the dragon had begun to issue more balls of flame from her mouth, and keeping well away from those was top priority for the moment. In fact, it was about all she had the opportunity to do at the moment, though she did occasionally shoot more icy projectiles at the dragonlings or their mother, to great effect in the former case, and not so much with the latter.
The dragon was, unfortunately, capable of moving much more quickly through the air than Lucien was over the ground, and without someone to distract it, it became considerably more dangerous for everyone. This was something that Amalia did not have to think very hard to know. She could see he and Rilien making their way over, but in the meantime, the battlefield was slowly descending into complete chaos. Pursing her lips tightly together, she drew two knives from her back, short and sturdy, and crouched low to present little visual target, circling around behind the dragon and creeping up on it as it continued to aim and shoot spheres of flame towards the other combatants.
In the end, she didnât think much about it at allâshe just did what seemed most likely to achieve the end she was after. It had to happen quickly, and she could not hesitate. That in mind, she bounded into a sprint, her treads quiet against the sounds of battle, and jumped onto the highest point of the dragonâs tail she could reach, sprinting up the rest as far as she could before the dragon reacted violently, pausing in her assault of the field to try and throw Amalia off her back. It was at this point that the knives came into play; Amalia willingly buckled her knees, plunging one of the knives with all the force of her weight into the creatureâs shoulder, sliding it as well as she could between the more armored plates.
This went about as well as one could expect, and the dragonâs attention was now fully on getting her away from it and into range of attack. The second knife joined the first on the opposite side, and Amalia held on as well as her grip and the strength in her legs would allow. It was certainly well enough to maintain her positioning despite the dragonâs thrashing, though she had to grit her teeth in order not to bite her tongue.
What she did not expect was what happened nextârather than try and throw her from the ground, the dragon beat her wings several times and jumped off the plateau sheâd landed on, taking to the air with Amalia still on her back. From the ground, it appeared as though she ascended almost vertically into the sky, letting out a horrendous, grating shriek that sounded like stone being scraped against metal. A few of the Lions paused in their motions at the sound, Estella flinching visibly.
The dragon reappeared some moments later, twisting through the air in a series of barrel rolls. Amalia was beginning to feel distinctly sick, but sheâd locked her grip and refused to relinquish it, knowing that to do so would mean her death. After what seemed like hours, but had in reality been perhaps a minute, the dragon landed hard on the ground, the jolt dislodging her passenger, who at last slid off one side and landed on shaky feet, promptly falling over when her legs gave out from under her. The frantic flight had clearly tired the dragon as well, however, and she was sluggish in her efforts to turn around and finish off her violent passenger, sluggish enough that Lucien could intervene, striking up at the softer scales between her forelimbs, leaving a bloody gash and forcing her to deal with the more immediate threat.
The dragon attempted to get at Lucien, but his positioning was just close enough to make it difficult, and her predicament was only made more obvious when Rilien intervened, waiting for her to shift in such a way as to bear much of her weight on one forelimb rather than the other. At that point, Rilien took his chance, drawing the longest blade he had and darting into towards the foot, bearing downwards with all his weight.
The blade sank into the dragonâs flesh and emerged from the other end, puncturing the ground and effectively staking her in place. The blade, like the others, had been enchanted, and ice began to coat along her limb, reinforcing the hold. There would be no more repositioning for a while, but it wouldnât hold forever. Whatever they did, they had to be quick about it.
Tessa, who had tracked the dragonâs movement through the sky, caught something from her peripherals. âHey, incoming!â The Lions, nearest the new arrival, scattered, diving out of the way in time to avoid being crushed under the landing of a second, smaller, but still formidable dragon, apparently summoned by the high dragonâs call.
âShit.â
"Don't sound surprised, this is Kirkwall. Shit gets worse before it gets better," Vesper said to Estella. The Guard had been amongst the Lions, doing their part to slay the dragonlings, but with the appearance of the matured dragon, their priorities shifted accordingly. With a bang of her sword against her shield, the four guardsmen formed into a small unit, with a Vesper and another shield bearer standing at the front and a pair of swordsman waiting in the wings behind them. "Get your Lions, or are you going to let the Guard do all the work?"
âThey arenât my Lions,â Estella replied, her tone tinged with something that was almost affront, though it revealed its true nature in the comment that followed. âWe are the Commanderâs Lions.â Nonetheless, she readied her sword, shifting her grip so that she was holding the curved blade with both hands.
âDamn straight,â confirmed Cor, Taking up a spot at her left. His own sword was considerably larger than Estellaâs, built to be wielded always with the strength of both hands, like Lucienâs. Donnelly took up a post on her other side, his shield to the middle, where it would protect both of them to some degree. Idris and Tessa ranged out a little further behind, but they would definitely be tackling this as a unit.
âAll right. Letâs go guys.â A series of nods, and the Lions charged, staggering their speed so that the first fireball clanged firmly into Donnellyâs metal kite shield, deflected upwards by the deliberate angle of it. Just like a mageâs spell would have been. Cor and Estella split off thereafter, letting Donnelly take the middle and moving to attack the flanks. Tessa provided cover fire for their approach, and Idris worked his way through a knot of smaller dragons attempting to led assistance to the other, weaving and jumping between them like a man of half his years.
Donnellyâs momentum carried him practically into the dragon, though he managed to avoid getting mauled by dint of excellent reflex, the creatureâs forearm slamming into the shield heâd raised just in time. It still hit hard, and he staggered heavily sideways. At about the same time though, Cor reached one of the sides, slashing brutally at a back hamstring. It was hard to drag his sword through all those scales, and so the wound was nowhere near deep as heâd intended, but nevertheless, it was an effective distraction. Estella closed from the other side, her enchanted sword finding a place to punch through the natural armor near the wing joint on her side. The dragonâs spiked tail swung for her in response, and her feet were knocked out from under her, forcing her to somersault backwards in an ungainly pile of limbs to regain her footing, spitting strands of hair from her mouth that had once been in her ponytail.
The aggression from the Lions, and Estella's hit in particular, gave Sophia an opening to get around to the dragon's other side, and when the tail swung away to try and hit the younger woman she moved in for her own chance. Ducking under a flapping leathery wing, Sophia struck low, near the rear leg, stabbing up into the underbelly, needing a great deal of force to actually pierce through. Her blade sank in deep, though, causing the creature a great deal of pain, and soon drawing its ire back on her. Quickly, she withdrew her sword and backed up quickly, just in time to avoid the swing slash of the foreleg that tried to retaliate on her.
The Guard was not about to be outdone by a bunch of mercenaries in their city. Vesper lead the guard at an angle toward the front while its neck was turned and focused on fending off Sophia. They struck as one, four blades piercing its shoulder and leaving behind a number of wounds. The act had also garnered the full attention of the the dragon and it whipped its long neck around, dousing them in flame. They'd expected retribution of course, and prepared accordingly. Vesper and the guard to her side set down their towershields and hid behind them, the other two swordsmen hiding behind them. When the gout of flame tapered off, smoke billowed from the red hot surface of the shields, and the ground was scorched around them, but the guardsmen themselves were unharmed, if a bit warm.
The dragon didn't allow them the time for a counter attack, swiping at them with its forearm. Again, it was met with the pair of tower shields, both individuals grunting under the effort and being slid backward with the force. The swordsmen were quick, and struck not a moment after, drawing deep ribbons of blood from the creature's arm. It recoiled from the shock, giving Vesper and the other guard a moment of respite before their ears were assaulted with a shrieking cry. The dragon began to back out and it beat its wings to make room to take to the air. Vesper had other plans, however.
She spared a glance between the guards and indicated with a nod of her head its wings, each understanding the unspoken plan. They approached the escaping dragon, but before meeting it proper, the two shield bearers turned to face the swordsman and dropped to a knee, bracing the shields with their shoulders. The swordsmen had staggered a moment to make room to get and running start, and once their platforms were set, bolted off. They met the shields with their feet, and were launched into the air and onto the dragon's back. Each taking a wing, they plunged their blades deep into the joints, rending its ability to fly.
The two on the ground followed up by rushing forward and slamming into the dragon's torso with their shields throwing it off of its feet. "Someone kill the damn thing!" Vesper ordered the Lions.
The dragon, however, was quick to its feet, and while hobbled, still a brutal creature with strength in reserve. Clawing its way back to its feet, it roared at terrible volume, great sweeps of its tail and lashes of its limbs pushing everyone back, and disarming several in the process. Gouts of fire followed, threatening to cook anyone unwary enough to be caught, even as it swayed dangerously from side to side, worn down by the numerous wounds that had been inflicted upon its body.
Tessaâs bow was crushed beneath someone she didnât recognize whoâd fallen beside her, one of the guardsmen, she could only assume. Not that she blamed him for itâshe was pretty sure heâd broken the worst of her fall, so it was hard to hold anything against the fellow. Looking around, she could spot Estella not too far away, clambering to her feet with her hand pressed to one side of her ribcage, one eye closed and a rivulet of blood carving its way down her face from somewhere just over her left eyebrow. Idris was farther off, not having taken any of the direct hits, but his arm looked to be reddened and blistering quickly. Corâs sword had been snapped in halfâshe wasnât sure how, but maybe the dragon had stepped on it or something.
Donnelly looked to be completely out of commission, if the way his legs were twisted around was any indication. She remembered him taking the brunt of the first few hits in an attempt to let them all get away. She found that her own ankle was in too much pain to move, but she wasnât sure she had a choice. Minus a cut lip, Cor looked fine, and though she couldnât hear them, she could tell he was talking to Donnelly, and with a short nod, the elven lad took up the humanâs sword, shorter than what he usually used. Thanks to their training, though, she knew heâd know how to use it.
For the moment, the dragon was still trying to regain its balance, but they didnât have long. Not too far off lay someoneâs lost crossbow, and Tessa clenched her teeth. Rolling off the guardsman and onto her belly, she crawled over to it, mostly using her elbows to pull herself along with a bit of help from her knees. âCor, go! Stel and I will cover you from behind!â Laying hands on the crossbow, she pulled a breath into her lungs and rolled over again, half-rising so she could brace the weapon properly as possible in a half-sitting, half-laying position. She was a fish in barrel if the dragon decided to use fire, but sheâd cross that bridge when she came to it, if she ever did.
For a moment, Estella was frozen by indecision, but when Cor glanced over at her to confirm, she nodded sharply. There was only one way she could hope to succeed in laying enough cover for him to succeed, and she knew what she had to do. She just wasnât sure she could do it.
You must.
âDo it.â Cor needed no more incentive, and was off like a shot. Behind him, Estella reached deep into herself, dipping for the first time in years into the half-familiar Fade.
Fire had always been easier to her hands than anything, and it was fire that answered her call now. Not much use against a dragon, but she didnât have to kill it, she just had to distract it. Her first few attempts fizzled out before they even reached the dragon, one whizzing dangerously close to the tip of one of Corâs pointed ears, though she doubted he even noticed. With the third, she hit her stride a bit, and though it was hardly masterful, the flames did hit the target, drawing its attention while Tessa pelted it from the other side.
âOver here, you ugly son of a Darkspawn!â The dragonâs much more impressive fireball was its reply, and she had to sprint to the left to avoid it, firing as she was able. Fortunately, she didnât have to keep it up for long, because she could already feel her reserves drawing close to empty. Sheâd never been a talented mage.
With a great running leap, Cor looped one of his arms partway over the dragonâs shoulder, gripping one of the spikes that protruded from its upper spine and swinging, locking his legs around the middle portion of its neck. Pulling himself up by this hold, he torqued himself upwards, driving the sword up under the soft part of the throat, under the base of the tongue, a vulnerability that would have been otherwise unreachable. Wrenching the sword back out again, he dropped, landing in a crouch and promptly bolting to the side before the dragon fell, as otherwise it would likely have crushed him. When it fell, it moved no more.
A massive roar from across the battlefield announced that the original High Dragon was still alive, though more injured than it had been. Ashton stood a distance away, having once again found the strength in his legs to get back to moving, though he was noticeably more sluggish. His quiver was also steadily drying up, with the amount of arrows countable with his fingers. They needed to finish this soon, else the dragon would be the one grinding them down-- not the way it was supposed to be. Ashton reached back for another arrow when his fingers brushed against the fletching of one of his specialized arrows. He hesitated for a moment, a plan formulating in his head.
Well, it wouldn't hurt anything. Dropping the original arrow he was searching for, he plucked the one with the burlap sack for a tip. He nocked it and waited patiently. Aurora, much closer than she was initially, stood panting, downing the last of her mana potions. The dragon roared once more and reared her neck back, and Aurora prepared a spell to counteract the gout of flame that was sure to follow. Instead of spitting flame however, an arrow snaked its way through the air and went into the dragon's open mouth, smacking against the back of her throat. A muffled pop and bright flash replaced the fire, and the dragon stopped everything it was doing in a massive fit of coughing-- leaving it stunned.
Aurora watched in confusion for a moment, wondering what just had happened before shaking it off. She was presented with a prime opportunity, and it wasn't one she planned on wasting. Digging deep into her reserves of magic, she dipped into the fade. Thrusting her staff deep into the sand at her feet she used what was left of her mana and summoned a pair of spires beneath the dragon's feet on one side, and forced them to rise as high as she cool manage. The effort expended was massive and when she reached her limit she fell forward on her hands and knees, panting and forcing as much air as she could into her lungs.
The effect was as envisioned however, having her balance shattered by Aurora's earthen spires, the dragon tipped over and fell onto its side, its head bouncing as it hit the ground.
A falling dragon was not terribly difficult to predict a few seconds ahead of time, considering how long it took something that large to actually topple. As a result, Lucien was exactly where he needed to be when it did, standing just beside where its head contacted the ground. Before it could so much as move, Everburn was whistling through the air, and his strength and leverage, as well as the heat of the blade, moved it through the thick protection of the scales and out the other side, severing the head completely from the neck.
With a heavy exhale, he stepped back and lowered his ancestral sword. âItâs done.â