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Chapter 32

An air of confidence had spread to the walls of Struport, undaunted by the encroaching night. Stories were shared of the day’s exploits, of daring heroics and mighty stands against the dead great and small. Though the defenders were bloodied and weary, they persevered, keeping the fires of hope lit within their armor-clad chests. What remained of the enemy on the blood-stained walls was hurled into great pits, slathered and oil and lit ablaze; even friends were added to the stacks, unwilling to let necromantic magic rise a new army behind their lines. The crackling sounds of this grim task wafted through the air, setting those around with a mournful, red-orange glow as the stars above watched in reverence.

Veledar, proud and strong sat upon his hinds on the ancient stone. His vigilant gaze swept across the broken landscape, the upturned earth and snow littered with the debris of their battle. Vast swaths of white were stained, mixtures of crimson, earth and black creating a strange painting. He caught winks of steel from the moonlight above, weapons and armor that lay on the corpses of the dead and once living. Nothing moved before the wall thanks to his presence, or perhaps due to the elves and dwarves that aided him, ending any who drew as close as their dragonfire rifles and bows could reach.

The dragon dusted off his armor with a paw, lingering on the scuff marks he’d earned through the day. They were ones Korde worshipers or Thor would be proud of, the evidence of arrows and blades that had been deflected as he was stuck in the thick of it. His limbs flickered with a dull ache, even his wings thankful to be resting upon his back. His scales were lacking any wounds or scars, thanks to the application of healing magic. His paws twitched, knowing healers had seen to his needs before anyone else. What once would have filled him with pride at being held above them, instead now held a bitter taste in his mouth.

His frills fluttered at how silent the night had gotten, like a shade had fallen across those that held the wall. He peered back to where his allies had gathered, once more around their fire, clinging to warmth. Nivra had seen fit to join them this time, complete with an entourage of gryphons and humans. The future queen was cuddling with her black love, head back and mouth agape, snoring to rival the largest of dragons. With a long strand of saliva hanging down her lips, it was most unlady like; he grinned, an image he would never let her live down. Her other guards slept in shifts, ever watchful and primed, ready to leap to action at the drop of a claw.

Asterion was sharpening a blade by the fire, his armor shed and resting at his side. It too was adorned with scratches and scars, of which the bull was more than proud of. The dragon would have slid over to ask, if he would not get a lengthy story on how he’d managed to get such things. Even now the minotaur was boasting to those that sat beside him, spinning grand tales of the blood he’d tasted, how Korde would be proud for them all. Krotos had long since passed out, his head in his talons, the gryphon not even the strength to preen his sullied feathers or remove his armor.

“He’s going to regret wearing it to slumber.” Veledar grumbled, stretching his wings as he resumed his watch.

“Noticed that too did ya?” Merlia was at his side, a crossbow in hand, aiming down the sights. Eyes narrowed as she watched the field below for any sign of movement, “Why are you over here again? It be my watch if I remember.”

Veledar flared his nostrils, “I figure you could use my company.”

“Right, when’s the last time that ever happened?” Laughed the ranger, gesturing to their cleric with a smirk, “You don’t want to get into another talk with the bull.”

“What talk?” He rolled his eyes, “He will speak to me as though I care about his exploits.”

“You expect others to care about yours though.”

“But of course, Merlia, those have me in them, a dragon.” He rolled a paw to his chest, “All the best stories have dragons in them.”

“Oooo I got one.” The dwarf’s eyes sparkled with glee as she trained her sights to a rather brave soul crawling on his hands and knees in the snow.

“But can you get him before that crazy kobold?” Veledar asked, gesturing to another section of the wall. Though it appeared to be just like all the rest, quiet and with little movement, they’d already seen flashes of light before in this game from Mug before.

“I got him, don’t you…worry.”

With a twang the crossbow loosed it’s deadly bolt, sailing through the air and straight into the man’s skull. As he collapsed, not quite sure what had happened, Merlia beamed and pumped her arm in victory.

“That’s right Mug, I got him first.” The dwarf turned to that empty section of the wall, giving it the middle finger. “Guess it be Merlia who’s quicker with her fingers.”

The dragon huffed and averted his gaze as she continued her celebration, “Still can’t believe you lost my bow.”

“I already said I was sorry, not like it was me fault anyway!”

He shifted, the fact not making it any easier to swallow the crawling sensation through his scales. That his precious treasure was now in the claws of that Dreadflame.

“Think of this way, now you have more reason to be living.” Merlia loaded another bolt, “So you can get your precious bow back from the dragon that be uglier than a bull’s backside.”

There was a crack of light from that certain section of the wall, Mug’s response to their victory. His target had been another man, clinging to a broken wagon, thinking himself hidden. The kobold’s energy shot had gone and blown apart his head like a ripe tomato, painting the ground a shade of crimson. Merlia grit her teeth and cursed.

“That scaled bastards trying to taunt me. Oh, so he wants some showman ship eh?” She aimed down the sights, taking a deep breath as competition shined in her viridian eyes, “I’ll put so many bolts in the next one’s knees.”

“One wonders why they keep trying.” The dragon mused, “Would it not be safer under the overcast sky, not when the moons shine so bright that we might catch them?”

“That’s the difference between us dragon. There masters don’t care about them. Guess all we can do is keep breaking their toys.”

“Not quite the illustrious title that.” He spread his wings with a gasp, “Merlia Gallogalar, master of toys.”

She snorted to that, “That’s another title all together.”

He wrinkled his muzzle, “I don’t think the necromancers are using the parts for that.”

“Who knows, what kinky shite they get up to? Think I can hit that one?”

“Bah, that’s too far for your puny weapon.” Veledar scoffed, spying a skeleton, just a dot among the ruined bodies and broken ground. “Ten gold.”

“You be on.” Merlia grinned, before lining up her target, and shattering the skeleton’s skull with but a single shot. “Take that red boy.”

“You…you cheated somehow.”

“Nonsense, I’m just that good. You’re going to make a fuss over ten gold?”

“I will if I was cheated!” He thumped his paw, “And so you know, this doesn’t count to our little wager.”

She sighed, “Surprised they have any undead left with the way the gryphons be tearing them apart.” She gestured to the encampment of gryphons atop the city gate, where they could make out Skywing, who was busy telling stories to his weary gryphons. “Speaking of which, why isn’t the white tiger over here, waiting for your paladin like you.”

“He’s busy keeping all the gryphons in line. Wouldn’t want to catch me doing that.” He gestured to Krotos, who’d rolled to his back, nestled up alongside Asterion. The bull, despite his stern demeanor, had taken to patting the blue-gray gryphon’s belly. “Keeping care of one is enough.”

“Though not without loss.” She sighed mournfully, “About half of the brave, handsome bastards be gone. Only two dozen or so riders and catbirds to fill the skies, not to mention the others…There we are!” She loosed another bolt, grinning as yet another skeleton met its end.

His jaw fell open at such a transition.

“What? Don’t be giving me that look like I be crazy lad. Way, I see it, take your enjoyment when you can! While we all still draw breath. Don’t you be fretting your red scaled tail; words will be had for the lost when this all be said and done. Now I don’t think they be minding what I do while their still killing to be done.” She smiled as she grabbed another bolt, “With days like this, I could see that red bastard losing.”

Now that sent a rumble down the dragon’s throat, much nicer than the claws of despair that had clutched her days before. His chest swelled with pride as he searched her up and down, “I wager that by the look in your eye, my hopeful Merlia has returned?” His tail flicked as he rolled a paw to his chest, “I can’t help but imagine that it was my heroic work that reignited that precious flame?”

“Oh great, now his head be filling.” She groaned, “Veledar, you were great, but watch it your head doesn’t get too big, hard to miss a target like that.”

“Oh, I see, you think me boasting and over exaggerating my efforts.” He averted his snout, keeping his tone controlled. “I only speak truth Merlia, for my deeds go spoken through our ranks with no word from my part. You saw today how I matched wits with those giants, tore apart wagons and put an end to at least a dozen necromancers.” To that he grinned, “Although if you want to hear a more in depth telling of my exploits, I of course will oblige you. I can’t think of a more noble goal than to uplift the morale of my greatest dwarven friend.” Veledar closed his eyes, relishing his words, “Though if you do request it of me, I do request that you beg.”

“Of course, that’s what you’d want ya lizard with wings!” Merlia growled, “If that’s what ya want from me, then ya can go and get mounted red boy. Cause Merlia Gallogalar don’t be begging anyone.” She ignored the savage growl and snapping of his jaws but could not ignore when she next went to loose a bolt, she found herself nudged off by a wing. Her bolt went wide, missing her target, letting Mug take the kill. Merlia turned, cheeks growing redder by the moment, “What in bonnie blazes you go and do that for?”

He averted his gaze, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you hit your target? No?” He clicked his tongue, gracing her with false sympathy. “Better luck next time I suppose.”

Stewing and glaring, Merlia seemed fit to bite her tongue. As the dragon snickered to himself, she stayed silent for a time, shifting back towards the fields. She didn’t flinch or curse as Mug put an end to at least four different targets. Upon her face it looked like the fight had been drained out of her, leaving nothing but an empty shell. The dwarf rested a hand upon the tired stone of the wall, after giving a solemn look to the others.

“I saw that you know.” Veledar mused, tail flopping behind her, a crimson wall she’d have leap over to escape.

“You saw nothin.” Merlia grumbled.

“I don’t think it was. Jealous that I broke the battering ram they tossed at the gate today?” He grinned, gesturing to the shell of a gigantic structure before the gate. It used to belong to a batter ram, maned by a team of four giants. Their corpses now were broken, burned, and covered with so many arrows and cannon holes they better resembled cheese. “Or perhaps it’s because how I tussled with that gold dragon today?” He rolled a paw to his chest, quite proud of that one. “Taught that golden jerk that having allies pays off. He may have been larger than me, stronger than I, but still he got to taste the bitterness of defeat.”

“Having gryphons and pegasai riders with you doesn’t leave his retreat just to you.”

Veledar snorted, “I was a large deciding factor though.”

“I’m not jealous ya narcissistic beast.”

“Then what ails you?”

“What has you thinking I be ailed?”

He rolled his eyes with a flare of his nostrils and a growl, “Days before, in the tavern, you were saltier than the sea. Now you look like you’ve seen a shadow, that everything here is lost. I know that you thought we could lose, but- “

“Dragon, do you think I’m a good person?” Merlia asked softly, turning her attention back to the landscape.

That gave him pause, how was he to even answer that? “While a strange detour from our conversation…Do you mean according to dragons, humans or dwarves? I’m rather oblivious to the last two, but I’ll press onward if you insist upon it.”

“Bah, what was I expecting?” She scoffed, bringing the hair out of her eyes, “I’ve lived a long time dragon, done things I’m not proud of.”

“Yea, I kn- “

“I’m not done talking, I’ve gotten my chance to go home now, but after all this?” She clenched her teeth, “By Thor’s name I don’t be deserving it. I’m just as wicked and daft as the lot beyond these walls.”

“You?’ Veledar scoffed at her assertion, “Yes, you can be grating at times, abrasive, confrontational, pigheaded; definitely, annoying? Another yes- “

“Thanks- “

“But I’d not say you’re evil.” Veledar lowered his snout to nudge her, “You were there to help me with my book, never turning back when you could have. You traded arrows with the best of them, laughed in the face of terrible peril. Why, Merlia, look at what we’ve achieved these past few days. Dreadflame’s forces cannot breach the walls, we stand firm.” He laughed and rose his head, “All thanks to…” He paused, “Our concentrated efforts. At this rate, I’ll be able to see the look on his wretched face when Lyndis arrives!”

“Yea, when she does, can’t wait.” The dwarf’s conviction wavered, ignoring the dragon’s confident huff.

“Question, why did you request we move from our previous resting site? The one by the gate?”

Merlia took aim, “Better shooting here of course.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t buy it, clearly something eplse was troubling her. He tapped her with a wing to throw off her next shot.

“Could ya keep your blasted wings to yerself? I’m going to have to listen to that pint sized newts braggin!”

“Not until you tell me the true reason you’re In such a dower mood.” He gently bumped her nose with a talon.

Her face went crimson, smacking aside his paw, “Don’t you ever know when to leave well enough alone?”

“Merlia, if I knew that, you’d think I’d have led you all to Entis’ castle, then to here?”

“Arcturus and Shandalar led us here.”

“We both did.” He chuckled, rolling a paw to his chest, “Fact remains, unless you wish to keep missing every shot, speak.” He flared his nostrils for added effect, accompanying it with a playful growl so she knew he meant business.

For a moment he thought she was going to explode, lift off her insults upon his hide. Maybe she’d use her crossbow, insist on trying to skewer him with bolts, but no. Merlia slumped and averted her gaze, what flame within her starting to fade.

“I’m this close to getting home dragon, after being away so long. Being exiled, cast out, thinking I killed a friend.” She took a deep breath, “I was an assassin Veledar, before I abandoned the foggy mountains. Tracking, I was great at, accuracy, without question- “

His frills pinned as she paused, was she waiting for shock? “And that was why you were exiled? For being a criminal?”

She scoffed, “More like pissing off the wrong clans with beards longer than their legs taking things too personally.” She pulled free the symbol of her house from her pockets, a red and brass broach of an ox, turning it softly in her hand, “In the halls of me ancestors, they bury the dead and honored, sing songs, and remember all the great deeds that been done. They told me that I was forgiven that I can return home to open arms, sit down with my clan once more, be honorable again.” She clenched the broach tight, hands shaking, “Which if only they knew what I’ve done to survive, the people I’ve hurt…promised to hurt. They’d snatch back what I’ve been dreaming of in the blink of an eye. Dragon…Can you do something for me? “

“I don’t have to do anything.” He replied, only to bring down his head with a chuckle, noting the way her brow was furrowed, eyes like steel, she wasn’t joking around. “What need do you have of me? Though I must warn you, expect a fee.”

“Course ya would, greedy bastard.” She sniffed, “What do ya need with more treasure anyway. Isn’t having mountains of the stuff enough for ya?”

“You could always use more Merlia. Humanoids like yourself think there is a concept of enough.”

“When this is all over, cause, of course you’re going to live, go see the Gallogalar clan.” She held out the symbol of an ox, tears welling in her eyes, “Tell them all the good you had with me, the adventurers I had. Don’t tell them the bad, don’t say anything of the sort.” She quivered, composure breaking, “Gods look at me, crying like a babe, I just want to go home- “

The dragon took the little piece of metal with his paw. He knew not where they were or how to get there but he nodded, clearly this meant a great deal. “Know that if I have to deliver this to them, I’ll charge your family ten times if you’re not of this world.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” She growled.

“Consider it a death tax, forcing me to endure the dreadful prospect of informing your clan of your demise. So best think on it before you have me tiring my wings to carry me past Tregaron to the foggy mountains, where I’ll be the one to look into the eyes of all your mewling kin.”

The flame that had passed was reignited anew as Merlia’s face burned, her teeth gnashing, “This is how ya talk to a sobbin woman! She be having a heart to heart with ya and all you want to do is talk about taxes and fees?”

Veledar rumbled at the development, pulling back as she reached for her axes. “There we are the spirit to live! See I knew it lay buried beneath your stubborn, thick skin! Now Merlia, put the axe down, you might hurt yourself, or worse me. Though I doubt you would-”

“Then why are you backing up?”

“So, you don’t hurt yourself in the attempt.”

She brandished an ax, the metal winking in the moonlight, “After all we’ve been through, the cooing and cheering on your relationship with Arcturus, struggling to keep ya alive, putting up with ya overpowering ego? You tell me that means nothing in the end? Oh dragon, you’ve rightfully- “

He silenced her with a snarl, flaring his wings and lashing his tail. “I was trying to keep my friend’s spirits alive, so she didn’t go off and die needlessly.”

The dwarf started to snicker and chortle, her axes falling to the ground with a clang. She soon was smiling, beaming up at him, “Oh ya daft lizard, stupid, red baby.”

Words of praise soon came from her mouth, creating an illusion of safety, but the dragon knew better. He didn’t approach, content to let her sniff and work better to compose herself.

“How did your archers do?” He shifted, anything to change the subject. “Hopefully they’re not seeing you sniff and lose composure of yourself every time you think of home.”

“They did fine, lost a fair few of the number, no one got carried away, and what does it matter if they see me blubbering? Not everyone is a prideful dickhead!”

His nostrils flared, “Perhaps they should be.” Frills flickered as she laughed, at least warming the air for now. Beneath his scales he still felt a tumultuous turmoil, like two wolves battling it out within; all of that wrapped in a soul he knew as his own. “Arcturus!” He said softly to himself, turning to catch the man’s approach.

In his gear, Arcturus wore a grim face, one whose color had been drained. Each step was tentative, cloak fluttering in the wind, shield in one hand, helmet in the other.

“Look who decided to stop playing with dragonesses and join the fight.” Asterion teased, gesturing to a place by the fire, “Yes come, relax after your day of relaxing.”

“Leave him be.” Growled Veledar, startling several guardians strolling past him, “There are other ways to contribute than fighting outright. He and Fremra had an important task!”

The bull huffed, grabbing another blade to sharpen, “Indeed, many are not as honorable as others. Did she have you paint her frills? Massage her scales? Or perhaps did you fool ar- “

“Never you mind.” Arcturus replied firmly, practically collapsing by the fire. His shield clattered against the stone.

“Then did your hunt prove fruitful?”

“Bastard didn’t even show an inch of his snout.” The man grumbled, “He waits, taunting me.”

“Course he’s hiding.” Scoffed Merlia, “Got all the dragons looking for his booty, and a Lund on top of that? He’s like a gryphoness in heat.”

Asterion lashed his tail, “Deceit, it sickens me.”

Arcturus rose a brow, “And yet you approved of Lyndis on our group?”

“Yes.” Squirmed the bull, “But it’s not as entertaining with it being on the other hoof.”

But there was something else, sadness hidden beneath the layers of frustration and anger. Veledar snorted and padded over to his mate, brushing aside a nightly patrol, almost knocking one of the guardians over. The dragon laid down by Arcturus’ side, curling his tail so that he fully enveloped the man. He would be a bulwark from the cold. “I sensed your worry earlier.” Veledar said softly, his words lost to Asterion and Krotos, the gryphon waking to demand of the cleric more of his pets. “When I was fighting the undead, the dragon, the giants.” His frills fluttered, recalling how that had shown through the adrenaline, “You reminded me that I had something to live for. That those foes would not keep me from you.”

“You fought a dragon in my absence?” Arcturus shot up, “And I was not called to help?”

He chuckled at the envy shining within those eyes, leaking down into his soul. Veledar’s chest filled with pride as he rolled a paw to his red orange scaled belly, “We had it under control, and before you ask, we did not kill him.” He gestured to the encampment of gryphons, “Thanks to the skills of your white and black feathery friend and his associates, we were able to force that scaled brute to retreat.” He chortled at how the golden scaled beast had hissed, cursed his name. “To think that he had the audacity to call me the traitor of all things. Coward, he tried to call me, that I needed mortals and gryphons to assail him.” A smile creased his snout as he tapped his tail, “To think having friends is a weakness.”

“So, you beat him with the power of friendship?”

Nostrils flared, “Don’t be silly Arcturus. Does this sound like one of those halfling story books you read about? I beat him with allies, a strong paw, and a few dozen spells hurled in his direction.”

The paladin averted his gaze to the gate, where the shell of the battering ram did rest. The man’s face grew ever more tired as he heaved a great sigh, “It appears you’ve had a busy day.”

“Ah yes, the battering ram.” He fluffed his wings for affect. “Merlia exploded the wheels with some arrows, Nivra conjured one of those fire elementals to burn away the wood-“He paused, Arcturus’ head was in his hands, a cold wind raging within the dragon’s scales. Of course, he’d been foolish to not see it. With a growl he rose a tender paw to drag the weary man to his scales. “I take it you don’t like feeling useless?”

Arcturus did not reply, but that was an answer all itself.

“What is all the use of preaching about patience unless you’re going to use it.” He whispered in his ear. “Unless you wish for me to tease and try and comfort you.”

“It’s not that.” Arcturus began, his voice hollow, “I’ve had to be held back before.”

“Then what is it?” He nudged Arcturus with his snout, only to pull back and lock eyes with the man. With a brassy voice he thumped his tail, “I command thee t- “

“I communed with the shard of Bahamut today.”

There was a moment of silence, as the dragon’s playful nature collapsed. His jaw shut and opened several times, trying to search for an answer inside Arcturus and upon his face. He was left with a wrinkled snout, but he did not relinquish his grip. “I thought you were afraid of such an action.”

“Fremra convinced me.”

“Of course she did.” Growled the dragon, “I hope she didn’t put you in any unnecessary danger?”

He looked away, “No.”

Always curious about their connections with the goddess, he pressured further, wondering what she sounded like, the experience. As he spoke though he could feel the growth of cold within Arcturus grow. It was not from the wind, but an emptiness within, a chasm that could not be filled. He apparently did not appreciate the novelty of it, “Did things not go well?”

“That’s an understatement.” Arcturus shook his head, “I had a vision of our future, one where we were arrogant and self-righteous in our beliefs.”

“Did I still light a fire in your loins that drove you mad with passionate lust?”

“Veledar.”

“Alright, continue.” He chuckled in a growly fashion, right into Arcturus’ cheek. “But do tell me, were you still-“By the look on the paladin’s face, this was no time for games. Veledar huffed, composing himself. “I’m sorry…What did you see?”

“I saw us defeat Dreadflame.” The man trembled, “How we burned away villagers without mercy. I could taste the ash, hear their screams. It brought me back to that night Veledar, the one that bastard took them from me.”

As the man trailed off, the dragon held him close, trying to batter the ache that resonated through them both. “It’s alright, it wasn’t real.”

“But that’s how I always see her now…when I close my eyes.” He continued, “That last, slumped over image of my Selina…I want him dead Veledar, and not just dead, I want him to suffer as I’ve suffered, writhe in the agony of what he’s inflicted on so many others.” The man’s lip quivered as tears of hate welled in his eyes, “I want to see that dragon broken at my feet, scales hewn apart, coated in his own blood, begging for a mercy that I won’t give. Oh, my blood burns greater than I’ve ever known…and I know it shouldn’t.” He slumped against the dragon, “How am I supposed to want something better for your kind? Especially if such hate beats within me as easily as blood…Bahamut was right, I am just like my father.”

“You are not your father.” Veledar growled, resting his nose against the man’s hair, ruffling it with a huff. “Though I don’t know him, the fact you’re troubled by this speaks volumes. Though I am confused, I thought you were over this; that you were at peace on the Island of Draconis.”

“So did I, yet here I am.” Arcturus clutched at where his heart would be, “Each time I think I’m over this, that their deaths have been put to rest, here it is to rear its wretched head. Veledar, it’s a wound that will not heal, no matter what magic or salve is applied to it.”

“No one said it was easy. Losing family is the greatest of wounds.” Whined the dragon, “You have me to lean on when your strength wanes Umraadi.” To his relief, Arcturus pressed into the coming nuzzle.

“I’ll never rest until he’s dead Umraadi.” Arcturus shook in cold fury, “Long as I draw breath, I shall never let the murderer of my family rest. I will be a plague upon him, ensure never a day passes that he breathes easy.”

“And what about your lessons on the island? To not let it blind you from what needed to be done?”

“That only was to not let it turn me from you. I will never let that happen again. If this should drive a wedge between us…I will choose you in the end, but it will be hard.” Arcturus rested a hand on Veledar’s paw, caressing the scales, “Do not make me make the choice Umraadi.”

To that he did rumble, “All of this and you are upset that you might wish for vengeance on your families killer?” He chuckled and tossed back his head, “If you’re going to partake in it, you might as enjoy it.”

To that Arcturus did not reply but did grunt.

The dragon huffed and decided a different approach. “Then to hell with this Bahamut.” Veledar snorted, staring to the night sky, glaring at the twinkling lights, “If my perfect Umraadi is not good for her, then she can go get mounted by the most disease ridden of cocks.” He nodded and returned his dominating attention to Arcturus, washing the man with his scent as he huffed, “Not all of us can be as noble as she wants us to be. Arcturus, know you’re perfect to me, and should you, my Umraadi wish this dragon dead.” The dragon revealed his sharpened fangs with a growly chuckle, “Then he shall die.”

Arcturus said nothing for a moment, his cheeks warming at the dragon’s growl and assertion. What cold had gripped him was starting to thaw.

“Like that did you?” Growled Veledar with a smirk, pressing his snout to the man’s nose before letting forth a more audible growl. “See how your mate cares for you?”

Hands wove themselves around the crimson snout, holding the dragon but inches from his face. “Veledar.”

“Yes?”

“Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?”

“It’s always nice to hear.” Growled the dragon with a happy thump of his tai before surging forward and silencing what else Arcturus had to say with a passion filled kiss.

Groaning he dominated the man’s maw, easily batting away his feeble tongue. Soft groans filled the air, accompanied by the dragon’s pleased huffs. Down he continued, tenderly holding his love subjecting him to one the deepest kisses he could manage; one that traversed into his throat. Blushing, Arcturus didn’t fight it, hands coaxing and fueling the dragon to continue. Like a flame had been lit, the distraction was a success, Arcturus’ despair was beat back by the strength of their embrace yet again. For minutes they held each other in sway, lost in the taste, the smell of the other, their hearts practically beating as one. When they parted, the man was leaning up against him, all the tension seemingly delved out by the dragon’s tongue.

“Better?” Veledar laid his snout into the man’s lap, demanding his attention not end.

“You…certainly have a way of clearing the fog away.”

“A gift.” He closed his eyes, “And for my services…that’s it.” He purred as tender hands began to stroke him. His growl was deep and proud, “I’ll be with you every paw of the way.” He continued as he felt Arcturus’ blush, “I’ll remember you like me growling.”

“You…” The knight sighed, clearly an argument denied him. “I love you.” He planted a kiss on the dragon’s cheek before returning to his strokes.

“Bah, could you stop your kissing?” Asterion grumbled, sharpening an axe, “Some of us need to keep our meal down.”

“Yea.” Krotos fluffed his feathers, “When you should be throwing blood on each other and rutting till your bones break…The minotaur way.”

The cleric’s eyes narrowed, “That’s not how we do it.”

“Then how?” Chuckled Veledar in amusement, “I assume some form of gladiatorial combat? Where one hurls the other to the ground and takes them as some form of trophy?”

“Does it perchance involve collars and leashes?” Arcturus teased, “Making the defeated kneel between their legs?”

“Good one Arcturus.” Krotos laughed, “Oh, maybe they have to growl and snort at one another, who can be the most cold.”

“We read poetry.” Asterion grunted, grabbing hold of Krotos beak and holding it shut. “While the one we have affections for, hurls heavy things at us…Like men.”

“I like ours better.” Asserted Krotos, pulling free and fluffing his feathers, “A game of who has the prettiest feathers, which always turns lewd.”

“At least ours has some skill in it. Bedding a gryphon isn’t even a challenge! You accept any request asked to you, I’m amazed your kind doesn’t require clerics to cure you of diseases.”

“Why should it be hard? It’s pleasure Asterion, not some form of combat! Everyone around loves it!”

As the pair returned to their bickering, and Merlia to her shooting, Veledar merely rumbled and stared into the eyes of the man who captivated him so. The one who made his heart weak, gave him courage, amplified a greatness that he always knew he had. A paw stroked that lovely cheek, the dragon chuckling how large the crimson appendage was. He rumbled as the human pressed into it with a sweet smile. Arcturus Lund, one destined to hunt dragons and slay his kind, wrapped lovingly in his embrace, looking to him as no one else ever would. Without a protesting audience he softly warbled, applying yet another kiss to the man, continuing until he was threatening to grow his lance. To his dismay it was Arcturus that pulled away, searching past the dragon’s scales.

“Did the air just get warmer?” Asked the knight.

“That it did Umraadi.” Replied the dragon with a lustful growl, licking the paladin’s cheek. “I wager they will be safe on their watch, let us sneak away and relieve some of this unbridled passions that have been denied us- “

“I felt it too.” Merlia turned, crossbow lowered, color draining from her face.

“It’s strange, like the calm before a storm.” Asterion grunted, bowing his head, eyes closed. “Korde, what do you bring to test us?”

What was this nonsense they were on about? Veledar pulled his head high, expecting some form of trick, but even his muscles tensed; a sense of foreboding soon overtook him. Searching around the walls revealed it was just not his allies, but all the guardians and militia were mumbling about how hot it had gotten, where the cold winds had gone. Deep within the dragon’s bones a cold claw grabbed hold, widening his eyes, and pinning his wings. It felt as a great weight was pressed to his chest, every breath an arduous one. Something was coming.

“Arcturus.” Veledar snarled, raising to all fours, and lashing his tail. “Something isn’t right, a foul wind comes.”

“Is that what I feel?” Arcturus rubbed the back of his neck, standing tall, hand on his sword’s hilt.

“Magic. Powerful and old.” He gestured to his back as the wind returned in great force, but not by a natural hand.

It gathered into a single point behind their walls, fluttering banners, knocking guardians down, extinguishing flames as it went. It swirled and raged, forming a ball of pulsating light above the cobblestone. There it grew with terrible purpose, silencing all who beheld it. Great heat flared into existence from every direction, catching alight anything foolish enough to have been close. Above the scattered clouds had begun to gather and churn, crackling lightning to protest whatever was coming. From the mass of heat, flame and wind came a creature like none had seen upon this plane for quite some time.

There was a terrible growl that radiated through the night, striking fear into the flesh of all who heard it. Courage died in the hearts of the guardians around as a monstrosity of no equal, save that of the oldest of dragons rose before them. Humanoid in shape, the creature stood at three times the size of a man. Legs like a minotaur sprouted from it, muscular and powerful, the fur black as midnight. It’s arms were that of a bodybuilder, veins pulsing with wretched blood for all to see. It’s head was that of a demotic bull, twin eyes of piercing light bright as the sun, searing the very air. Horns curved outwards into cruel points, decorated with the faces of screaming men and woman, lost souls it had claimed for its own. In each of its massive hands was a weapon, in one a sword larger than a man, cruel steel that crackled with electricity over its surface. In the other was a whip of flames, a crimson snake curling down around it’s master’s hooves, awaiting the word. The beast tossed back its head, flared it’s leathery, bat like wings and opened its fanged maw, unleashing an ear-piercing screech that trembled the very earth below it.

Veledar’s heart skipped a beat as Arcturus clambered onto his back, there was only one such creature that this could be, he’d read about them through terrible stories and manuscripts within his horde. A dark master that ruled over the lesser creatures of the hells, “That’s a Balor!” He snarled as the beast took one look at the wall and raced towards it.

* * * * * * * * * * *

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