Snippet #1598603

By no means did Nhil Derenthi consider himself evil, a notion that he reaffirmed to himself by not sending an armed squad to drag Wrath back by his hair. No, the High Commander thought his act of restraint merciful even, allowing that welp of a general to die with his comrades. As Nhil looked at his failed experiment ascend the wall with an escort of golems(an escort that also made the feet exceedingly easy) and beat back those few soldiers that had not already repositioned themselves after seeing Nhil's army withdraw, the deep human could not help but shake the feeling that the Reds were bringing much more than a territorial feud with them. If they struck an alliance with Nihalistrix as well...the united forces of the dragon lords would be nigh unstoppable.

Nhil took these thoughts with him and dashed them aside, cataloging the possibility as a bump in the road for his plans. The dragons would fall. One way, or another. Paying no further attention to the slaughter that was to ensue, the High Commander turned on his heel and followed the rear guard of his army back towards the portal.

---

Junte heaved a mix of blood and bile onto the stone below, spitting and wiping his tusked mouth with his remaining hand. The traitor legionnaire glared at his half-brother with bloodshot eyes and bared his teeth in defiance. Thanaros stared back without so much as a scowl, his striking blue eyes holding nothing but pity for his brother and what he had become. Their sister lay on the ground several feet away, bleeding out and staring blankly at her locked siblings as several Legion medics tried in vain to staunch the bleeding. "At least, brother," Junte spat the words with hatred and blood dribbled from his mouth with every syllable, "Ferka will not abandon me. Not this time....I will see you in Avernus, half breed."

Thanaros gripped the leather of his polearm with white-knuckle intensity even as his brother's lifeless husk slid off of the end. The half orc stared at Junte for an indiscernable amount of time after that. He was dimly aware of the nearby medics and those soldiers he had told to stay back rushing forth to access the half-orcs wounds and confirm the death of the orcish Child, but Thanaros was too busy rearranging his mental patterns to give them his full attention. When at last reality became more real the the landscape of his mind, the battlemind waved away those still inquiring as to his well being. Thanaros had suffered only superficial wounds during the fight, coming out much better off than Ferka or Junte.

"I am fine, thank you." he turned toward the dimly glowing battlezone that spanned the diameter of the city and scowled. Where were the reinforcements?

---

"Oh, darn, that is not good." the first of the daergoths went down under a snarling blur of white scale and cording muscle. The infernal garagantuan clawed and bit even as his physical form retreated back to the depths of Avernus to recover. Now bleeding from several scores and gashes, the larger of the two whites looked past it's snout to stare directly at Beelzes. Despite the torrent of projectiles hammering at it(with most of them glancing harmlessly off it's armor-like scales), the dragon charged at the source of these beasts with it's maw wide open. Lacking the capacity to move swiftly at that very moment, the deep human sighed and closed her eyes in acceptance. Acceptance that for all their intelligence and ancient knowledge, dragons were still as mortal as every other creature on Norr.

Materializing out of thin air, the osodaemon Beelzes had called forth at the camp appeared before the enraged dragon and disappeared once more...right down the white's gullet. With widened eyes and a loud rasping sound the dragon stumbled backwards, shaking it's head in disbelief and in an attempt to shake the demon out of it's throat. A loud gurgle and flecks of blood escaped the dragon's mouth as it slammed into the ground, one osodaemon clawing it's way outside of it's throat. Seconds later a loud crack resounded around the square. Beelzes jumped slightly and pouted as she turned to inspect the source of this noise. She was genuinely surprised to see the second daergoth finishing the grisly work of snapping a dragon's neck.

"Splendid! Remind me to call on you again!" the shadow-giant waved away the offer and grinned savagely as it faded back into the Burning Dark. Beelzes smiled and turned to see the line of Children gaping and jeering at her, as well as trying to avoid the ire of a certain little dark elf. Legionnaires were starting to advance again, their marale bolstered by their display of magical might. Beelzes squinted through the freshly embattled masses at the ranks behind the Children. What on earth was going on back there? "Lift me up...." the insectoid osodaemon complied without complaint, gently lifting Beelzes up by her waist to see over the enemy. What she saw was her original captain breaking cover from a dark alley alongside a small group of golems and cutting a swath through the stunned ranks of ordinary soldiers.

The warlock flailed around excitedly atop her demon and yelled to Faera, "Fae! Reinforcements! Wrath's bac--I mean, General Leeroy! Wait, was that his surname? Jenkins maybe..." she did not have much time to contemplate that conundrum before a new question arose: Why on earth is the night sky in my vision? I was looking at the fight!

While the osodaemon was charging into the ranks of the Children, Beelzes was lying on the ground with a confounded expression, wondering how in the world she had gotten there. The shaft of an arrow protruded from beneath the left side of her ribcage. As the world slowly faded to black, Beelzes figured out the cause of her distress and could only muster up a half-hearted "Oh."

---

"Oh, oh, you little piece of filth. Did you just taunt me?" Urantonon had not been having the best of weeks. First, his mate had traded up for a larger, more virile hatchling. That was understandable, he supposed, but was in necessary for them to have sex inside his lair? Next, there had been the incident with the Blues and the indignity of being ambushed and smacked out of the sky by some lightning-loving, azure lizards without a lord. After that, there was the assingment to a patrol. A patrol. Urantonon was one of the progeny of the White Lady herself! That was not that wworst of it though, not by a long shot. To top it all off, the cow guts on top of the minotaur roast, Urantonon somehow managed to engage the one human out of the dwindling population that was not only follhardy enough to attack a dragon head on, but succeed in damaging one!

Urantonon was just about to give in to his natural urges when something told him to stop for a moment and access the situation. His perfect scales were marred with bloody wounds. Some patches of flesh were slightly blackened or numb with venom. These three were obviously elites of some kind...wait, were these the ones that the Lady had instructed her children to hunt? If so...Urantanon leaped atop a building like some sort of oversized cat and lashed his wings, taking to the air without a second thought. To face them would be a death sentence. No mere hatchling could alone face h-

"Oooooh! Here comes the pain!" Gurgen and Turha, both equally grimy, bloody and battered, rode in astride the backs of two aerial golems and tore a large hole in the wing of the ascending white dragon. It plummeted and hit the ground, but not before righting itself and rounding on the pair of riders with malice in his eyes.

"..." Urantanon looked down the street at the trio, then up at the brothers. There would be no escape. "Blast it all. Come then!"

---

Pel was tired, sore and hurting in more ways than one. Still, the halfling remembered Kisikoni's words and scoffed. That fool. Stumbling through the allies with as much stealth as she could muster, the words of the orcish captain also burned in Pel's mind.

"If I see the deep human without you, neither of you will live to see sunrise."

---

Hahahahaha! Xeron zipped about through the air, turning and twisting at break-neck speeds to only just barely deflect a blow or counter a psionic slash. It was exhilarating, so much power in such a narrow-minded creature! Such imagination from a member of a race that scorned innovation! It had been too long since Xeron had felt so...alive. The dark elf produced a pulse of multi-layered mental and physical force that put some distance between the duelists. Xeron stared past his hood at Neira with a single, orange eye. Would I be coming on a bit too strong if I said I was in love?

Stop these foolish games, Xeron. Hasekka'ja, still focusing on shackling the warlock, found enough time to browbeat her little slave. She lashed the dark elf upon feeling his annoyance through their empathic link.

Xeron lowered his mind-blade, glancing from Hasekka'ja to Neira, genuine sorrow showing in his one eye. Hanging his head slightly, the Silenced allowed the blade to dissipate and began levitating towards his master. Slowly he raised his hand and made one last psychic cut--not at Neira, but one that severed the strengthening connection between Hasekka'ja and Beelzes. The dragon snarled both verbally and mentally in outrage. She tore at her slave's mind but was rewarded with an ineffectual clawing at a mental bastion of defense. Xeron stared at the psychic dragon and tore off the crimson robes of a silenced, hovering in the chill night air with only breeches to cover his scarred form. With a quick manifestation the dark elf dragged a mind-knife of his lips and right eye, cutting the stitches that held them closed. After a couple moments of pulling the arcane thread was out and Xeron tested out his regained eye while flexing his jaw.

"No. I don't think I will," he said without even a crack in his voice from disuse, "I'm having fun." Xeron flexed his fingers and smiled back at Neira. "Care to join me?" without waiting for a response the former Silenced streaked through the sky and launched a barrage of concussive bolts that tore holes in the psychic dragon's hide.

On the horizon, despite the darkness, keen eyes would be able to just barely make out the forms of more dragons on the wing.