Snippet #949656

"Naughty boys and girls, aren't you?" Mercy said, making kissing expressions at the white-garbed men and women. Dodging the flaming blasts, she watched them explode on the ground around her, all the while flinging back fist-sized rocks from her sling. The sound of depressed skulls was a beautiful thing to hear in response, thought it wasn't immediately fatal. She often enjoyed watching those kinds of wounds progress, the victim thinking they got away with a small head wound before suddenly dying just a day later due to the hemorrhaging of the brain. Then the feast began. Everything paused, suddenly was everyone noticed the large shadow approaching the battlefield. She backed up to crane her neck, bumping into into the sitting Gale Bringer. She didn't look down and notice quite yet, trying to figure out what that thing was. "Now now now.... This couldn't possibly be..."

The Wind General looked up, aware that the battle had slowed and stopped. A shadow. Large, and flying straight toward the Akaldai pass. It was no bird, or any flying creature that existed to his knowledge, save for one or two mythical creatures and extinct monsters of old. Gathering his thoughts, the General's face revealed a shred of fear. "Impossible."

"Dragon.

It swooped from the clouds. The shark-like instinct for survival never left Fong, as he impatiently knocked on the dazed Nightmarian Spider's leg until she turned. When she did, her eyes focused slightly. "If you want a goodbye kiss, dear, you have the wrong person." She said, her personality radiating from her even with imminent death in sight. The General paused for a split second to give her a cold stare.

The blast of flame smashed into the ground not too far from them, getting closer as the Dragon began to fly over the Akaldai Pass.

"No you fool. I want to survive. If you will get your mind out of the gutter for maybe a few moments, we could make it. Now quickly, use your armor to shield off any flames. I'll create an outer air lock." The General spat back. The Nightmarian paused, but any prospect of surviving was a good one. Crouching over the General, she used her impressive flexibility to curl under her sturdy abdomen, turning it into a round oval-like shield.

Fong closed his eyes, feeling power radiate through his body. Flames required air to burn. That is why explorers bring torches with them when adventuring through caves. Once the torch goes out, it's a sign that there is nothing suitable to burn. It prevents an untimely death. By taking surrounding air and locking it out of the space, there is, in turn, nothing that will allow the dragon's breath to pass through other than the propulsion used by it's breath. It only lasted a moment, but the fire blasting around the air lock nearly broke just as the flames reached them. The strength fled from the Gale Bringer's body, as his form was taxed even further beyond it's limit. The black tumor throbbed, angrily protesting losing any source of food keeping it alive. His body was the result of the tumor's powerful response to the ebb of strength.

As the Nightmarian pulled herself off the Gale Bringer, she rubbed her abdomen. Now both sides were evenly fried with magical burns. So much for the famous Nightmarian Armor. It was a meager defense against such powerful dragon flame. Turning around, she flinched sharply at Fong.

The General ignored the Nightmarian Spider's reaction. This always happened when he forced himself past the pitiful limit his ailment had set. He was aware of it, but he had to find other survivors. He stood up. "You... may do as you please, Spider. We have no need for each other any more." He said. The Spider made no response, her face twisted slightly in a almost concerned paternal stare. He touched the link once, and confirmed that Ebon, Melianth, Miralight, and Belsius had survived. There was no other response, so he cut the link almost right after. He looked around. The forms that were still moving were a sharp contrast to a valley of the dead, the sharp smell of burned flesh of all races.

"Apologies, Queen of the Dark Elves. I still have not found justice for dealing your 'punishment'." He murmured softly, even Mercy didn't hear him despite her fairly close proximity. He approached the moving figures finally.

What they would see is a fully garbed General Fong, his clothes slightly burned. However, there were several unsettling features. His eyes, the tear ducts were leaking a gratuitous amount of blood down his cheeks. His ears as well, as well as the space under all the nails in his left hand were dripping blood. Damn illness. It was too conspicuous. It was lucky the tumor had not spread any further so it would be revealed.

Mercy stood a ways back, still under the dumb shock of what happened. Her stump of a left arm was almost grown back, lucky undamaged by the raging Dragon Breath.