Snippet #1617866

"What the...?" Wrath stared into the eyes of a diminutive drake that could have been a minature replica of the dragons that they faced. It took a moment for the weary general to recognize the tiny drake as Faera's familiar, after which he tuned to see what exactly had prompted it to stray from it's master's side. A blinding cascade of light made Wrath immediately regret his decision. All around soldiers were gasping and crying out in alarm, although the same could be said for most of the enemy. When the dazzling radiance finally subsided there was no trace of the younger Shanir to be seen. Only a very confused, very young Beelzes sitting up and glancing around nervously.

As if she had already pieced together the events of the last several seconds, the deep human's eyes went wide and rimmed with tears. There, in the middle of a battlefield, Beelzes drew her knees to her chest and began to sob.

Wrath's gaze was already back on the battle. This was a losty cause. Even with the loss of the Children, the hatchlings spurred their followers on. Wrath's forces were being beaten into a neat little ball in the middle of the city, and it was only a matter of time at this point. Once the Reds arrived, the remaining legionnaires would be slaughtered in short order. It took a great amount of willpower not to allow his grip to slacken, to allow his hooks to fall to the ground thus admitting defeat. The urge only grew as the first of the reds passed over the wall of Herrick.

The largest of the group barked out a series of commands and the remaining dragons veered off to survey the entirety of the ruined city. Both militia and legionnaire alike halted, both sides knowing that the end was near. Almost every battle waged across Herrick came to a grinding halt upon witnessing the descending masses of red scales and fury. As the first screams echoed throughout the city, Wrath closed his eyes and released a slow breath. In seconds the bard was tearing into the unmoving front lines of the enemy as few legionnaires snapped out of their dispair-induced stupors to follow his lead. They would not go down quietly. Hell, even Beelzes was firing arcs of black water that froze all it touched despite her sorrow.

Wrath could not say how long this went on for, only that it was easily the closest he had ever felt to his comrades. He was sure that they felt the same, that anyone would in the face of death. Their surprise attack had taken a good few dozen lives before the greatest of the reds took to the air once more from the western end of the city. Wrath's heart sunk as he saw the mass of black-armored limbs jutting out from between the beast's teeth, and the general drew arcane winds about himself once he was sure that it was heading straight for their position.

---

Egalister's howl was so loud, so intense that it rocked the very cobbles upon which the surrounding soldiers stood. The white dragon rolled it's shoulder in such a way that flipped the offending waif of a dark elf into the air. With speed and accuracy that should not have been possible for a creature that now lacked sight, Egalister snatched Talae out of the air in a taloned grip that kept her limbs firmly pinned to her sides. Regarding his prey with useless, mutilated eyes, Egalister whimpered and snarled in Talae's face.

"You dark little bitch. Heste'rak No'n VRekk AzalI--" Egalister had lapsed into his native tongue, Draconic, and was rambling a string of curses at Talae. Draconic had roughly seventy different variations for the words revenge, torture and superior respectively. Those legionnaires nearby did not charge for fear of their temporary captain being crushed in the dragon's grip. It was not until the sound of beating wings and the scrabble of claws meeting stone. The whispers of 'red' from the stinking mortals confirmed his suspicions.

"Heh, you are speaking the sacred tongue, Ega." Egalister would have flushed had he any true pigmentation. That silky, roiling voice that belonged to Letanikkalta the Scarlet was one that haunted his dreams. He heard her circle around him inspecting the white and his prey like a hunting cat sizing up a wounded wolf that had been fighting a wolverine, wondering which of the two would be the easier meal. At length, the red brushed against her one-time lover affectionately and parked herself in front of the smaller dragon. "Mind if I have half? I do so enjoy dark elves..."

With speed that almost seemed desperate(which he was) Egalister proffered his dark little treat to his fellow dragon. Letanikkalta flashed a mouth full of gleaming fangs and regarded Talae with large orange eyes. "Don't move Ega, we would not want you to lose a finger...and you, my cute little snack, try not to be too fattening..."

The large red chuckled mirthlessly as her jaws closed over Talae.

---

"Well, that's unssemly." Yaeral wheeled around at the gravelly whisper of a red that had alighted on a rooftop nearby and hissed a warning. "Who are you? The Lady did not inform us of any bargain being struck with Gurthene-"

"Lighten up, White." Musanthiss curled his scaled lip at his pale cousin and hopped on to the ground below, ignoring the nearby soldiers and prodding Kisikoni with a single black talon. The young red did not so much as look at Yaeral as he spoke. "You should receive word of the alliance in a few days. Can I have a bite?" he asked, poking Kisikoni once more. It was Yaeral's turn to sneer at the red's poor taste in food.

---

Iridanias swept in low with her wings perpendicular to the ground, dragging the spiked tip of her wings against the stone below. The sparking line effectively separated the ranks of dragon-loyalists from the legionnaires, clearing a cozy space for the great red to land. Easily the largest dragon for miles, it was an understatement to say that it was a snug fit. Once on the ground Iridanias opened her jaws to drop her burden directly in front of Wrath.

Wrath was unimpressed at the scare tactic. He locked eyes with the dragon and did not balk outwardly when it flared it's massive wings, the span of which was enough to blot out the stars in his line of sight. After a long while of soundless staring the red narrowed her eyes and growled. "Well?"

Wrath furrowed his brow in confusion and awkwardly shrugged in reply. Well what? at his shoulder, Beelzes pointed towards the bundle of dead legionnaires that Iridania had set down. Except it was not live leather, that was black. It was a ton of burnt flesh. It was not even mangled limbs that jutted out from the mass, but torn chunks of scale and bone. It was the head of a dragon...one of the whites. Wrath stared up at the red uncomprehending. Iridanias grinned, noting the recognition in his eyes.

She promptly made a 180 and began savaging the ranks of dragon-loyalists. At the multiple entrances to the city square, the other reds came skuling in through the relatively narrow streets. Letanikkalta was the first to arrive, dragging the handless, eyeless carcass of Egalister in her jaws and making muffled conversation with Talae, whom she had placed on her back after nearly swallowing the dark elf. Next was Musanthiss, limping in on three legs while his left claw clutched Yaeral's heart like a bleeding orb. A small procession of legionnaires follow both dragons, the secon carrying Kisikoni. The other ten or so reds arrived in short order, most of which presenting some sort of grisly trophy courtesy of a white dragon. Xeron was even perched atop the head of a red alongside Neira, the dragon having helped to finish off Hasseka'ja.

When the last of the dragons had arrived the square, most of the Legion was in a tight circle with weapons bared and warily observing the strange actions of the Reds. Only Wrath, Beelzes and several other members of the Black Guard were collected. Wrath stared up at Iridanias with weary eyes, waiting for the dragon to stop licking her chops as two other reds finished off the remainder of Herrick's population. "Well?"

Iridanias loosed a hearty laugh and stooped low to regard Wrath. "I like you, human. You did not scream when you saw me coming. An admirable trait...a warrior's heart...but enough of that now." the dragon drew herself up to full height and cleared her throat, addressing the legionnaire's as a whole. "Hear me, mortals. We of Gurthenemon's clutch bare you no ill will. We have sought to demonstrate this by destroying your opponents. To prove that this is not simply a territorial dispute, our lord requests the presence of your leader to discuss the terms of a possible alliance...who would your leader be, exactly?"

As one, it seemed, the beaten legion allowed their multitude of gazes to fall upon Wrath. He did not waver, merely staring up at the dragon and trying not to make a face at the ludicrous proposition before him. Iridanias chuckled and snorted a breath of flame. Wrath realized, distantly, that she was no mere hatchling. This one was a true dragon. The weight of the world on his shoulders, Wrath asked the one question that was on everyone's mind; "Why in the Nine Circles would you want to ally yourself with the Legion of Ashes?"

Another laugh. This one seemed more sinister. Iridanias lowered her head once more, lowering her voice as well in an ineffectual whisper. "Not the Legion, boy. You. Your people." a lithe figure hopped off of the dragon's back, allowing his gaze to rest on Wrath. Zakair looked to be on the verge of tears, but the elven ex-child composed himself and nodded before the dragon continued. "We have watched you for some time now, through the eyes of Mikana...rest her soul. Lord Gurthenemon has seen something in your group that does not normally manifest itself in such proximity...the one factor that led to the original culling of the dragons, a variable that our kind has yet to reproduce...something we need on our side if we want to destroy the other dragon lords while surviving independantly as well."

"What would that be?" Wrath asked skeptically.

"That, my dear human, is simple: Heroes. The X-Factor that allows a frail little human to bulldoze a dragon, or a puny dark elf to conjure a miracle that wipes out an entire city of Children. That is what we desire. So, we give you three choices: Hear us out, and join the reds. Deny our audience and stay here to die at the hands of starvation or discovery by scouts. Or...you could always call us liars and die here and now."

Wrath stared at Iridanias for a long while, the army doing the same as he considered the offer. It was not much of a choice really, die or join. "Fine. I will speak with Gurthenemon...now, how exactly am I getting to hiss palace?"

"By wing, of course." a red growled mockingly.

---

The rosy fingers of dawn touched the husk of a city that was Herrick with a tentative caress. Soldiers of the Legion were huddled around fires, sleeping on the streets and talking in hushed tones. Some of them even deigned to converse with the gigantic red dragons that had made themselves at home in various areas amongst the wreckage. Medical stations all around the city were filled to capacity. Achiru and Qinn were even helping out, as Beelzes tended tot he grief-numbed Talae and the wounded Kisikoni at the same time.

Atop the wall from which Nhil Derenthi was supposed to have deployed his troops, Sid Grimsmirk stared down onto the fields below. At the base of the wall a growing pile of burning corpses lay stinking of charred flesh, although the halfling did not even cough.

"Uta Menlitan. Orc, private first-class." another corpse was tossed over the wall by a line of burly soldiers as roughly forty others helped to pass the bodies upward and watched with grimly set faces. Sid wrote down another name upon the four-page ledger. "Kel Moonraid, elf, first sergeant." yet another. The next body almost evoked a sob from the tiny woman as she recognized the lovely round face and flawless skin. "...Pel Mekillot....halfling...vanguard medic."

Turha and Thanaros hefted the next corpse and Turha immediately broke down to the floor, sobbing quietly. Thanaros patted the linker's shoulder and continued to lift Gurgen's body over the wall. "Gurgen Mialee...hu...human...could someone else do this?"

With a sigh, Sid handed the ledger off to some dark elf and moved far enough down the wall that the smell was not too overwhelming. Abandoned by the Legion, befriended by dragons and most likely branded as deserters and betrayers to mortals everywhere on the off-chance that they had survived. The halfling barely noticed Wrath taking a seat next to her and wrapping a steadying arm around her shoulders. On Wrath's shoulder, Zeke chirped in distress. "...was I leaning forward?"

Wrath looked across the plains and towards the expanse of dragon-controlled territory, only squeezing his friend tighter in response.

Chapter Two: END