Snippet #1598956

Talae’s unit was having a bit of trouble with the dragon, make no mistake about that. Unlike a certain friend she could name, she was neither large nor strong enough to barrel into the thing and knock it over, plus the ten other people she was with were not members of the Black Guard, but the Legion rank-and-file.

She’d honestly had little reason to believe there was a difference until this engagement. The bloody white thing had torn through three of the ten in no time flat, a guttural sound that may have been a chuckle issuing from somewhere in its belly. It now contemptuously eyed herself and the remaining seven. “Run now, and I might be too bored to come after you,” it drawled in a gravelly voice that oozed superiority, and Talae gritted her teeth, her only response to ready to charge again.

Another two of her number actually believed the thing and turned tail, only to earn themselves a swift end with their backs turned. “What? I never did like cowards,” he (for it had to be a he from the tonality) offered, and she had the absurd thought that were he humanoid, he would have shrugged. Just like that, it was Talae and five perfectly ordinary soldiers. Frankly, she wasn’t all that extraordinary herself, and she knew it. Didn’t mean she was going to run away though.

“Chatty reptile, aren’t you?” she spat, lunging for his foreleg. The dragon blinked languidly and moved out of the way, attempting to swat her for her trouble, but she sidestepped and tried again, her hand-and-a-half skidding off his pearlescent scales.

“Grumpy worm, aren’t you?” he replied in kind, employing his tail in an attempt to skewer her in the stomach. Talae wasn’t having that, though, and true to form, decided that in the end doing the unexpected was the only way they stood a damn chance. Timing the hit as well as she could, she waited for another strike from the tail and plunged the large sword into the ground, impaling the draconian appendage on the way. “You little bitch!” he snarled, tugging futilely at the pinned fifth limb.

“Now would be nice,” she shouted back to her fellows, and they took the cue, coming at the partially-incapacitated enemy with an assortment of weaponry. Unfortunately, he was more than ready for this, and though there were black spots at the edge of his vision from the obvious pain of having one’s tail treated like the average shishkabob, it was nowhere near enough to cripple him. Another soldier fell to his claws, unable to remember the importance of dodging when blocking was not an option.

Dead gods damn it! she thought emphatically, reaching to rearm herself, this time with a short tube of a rather deadly concoction. Nitrates, charcoal and just a little sulfur. Stank up the tent so bad she almost couldn’t stand it, but made for most interesting results when lit on fire. From a smaller pouch, she produced a couple of roughened pieces of flint, fixed to narrow leather loops which she slipped over the second digits of her index and middle fingers. Having lost her primary method of combat to keep the dragon in about the right place, she was going to have to rely on the other four for a sufficient distraction.

Oh, look, a flaw in the plan. She was saved from having to consider it overmuch by a flash of white overhead. Alistair, having just drawn his spear, had spotted Talae trying to do something and decided to help. His magic-users were directed to the assistance of the younger Shanir sister, and the archers to keep at the cover fire for the primary combat line and Beelzes, whose injury he’d missed by mere seconds.

“What do you require?” he asked, slightly aloft even still.

“I need that thing to open its big mouth, and then everyone to get the hell out of my way,” she replied tersely, and he nodded.

“I believe I can do that,” was the only response she received, and then he was off, making quite the nuisance out of himself with his trident, aided by the remaining four people standing. When one of them, she was unsure which, caught the thing somehow painfully, causing him to roar in apparent discomfiture, she saw her chance. Flicking her fingers together, Talae created a spark, enough to catch on the fuse she’d melded to her incendiary device.

“Move, now!” she shouted, and charged forward, wasting no time shoving the explosive into the creature’s mouth and retreating herself. There were precious few seconds until-

A wave of heat and force slammed into her back, and Talae pitched forward, head contacting the ground hard, causing stars to dance a light show in front of her eyelids. She managed to retain her consciousness- barely. She felt talons wrapping around her upper arms and lifting her as gently as possible to her feet, and she nodded her thanks, regretting it when this brought on a fresh wave of nausea. She stumbled back against Alistair for a second, then regained her feet and stepped away from the harpy’s support. “Did it work?” It would have been a matter of timing most delicate, to work effectively. The mixture she’d loaded that capsule with was highly explosive, as her throbbing head would gladly attest, but it may not kill the thing unless it had exploded while still in his mouth or down his throat. If he’d spat it out, he may have just lost an arm or escaped harm entirely. She was reassured by the knowledge that if it had been regurgitated, it was in her general direction, which meant she would be the worst damaged.

Oh, please let it be dead. Talae swooned slightly again, placing her hands on her knees and taking a few deep breaths. The four still-living Legionnaires were looking at her like she was crazy, but she was pretty used to that.