Fall, 1343

As a Dragon Lord, Mera was expected to raise the forces under his command. His messages were relayed to trusted subordinates-in this case his neighbors Hearesecha and Teurhri- and allowed to spread down the grapevine, much like it was when he first received his two summons from Lord Kruash from Hearesecha during the Great War.

It was harder than it looked.

Communication moved slowly, and the dragons of the Southern Ranges had greatly decreased in number during the last few decades, so that when Mera finally assembled upon King’s Mountain he was dismayed to find perhaps 40 warriors. Hearesecha and Falknir were not among them, the former expecting a clutch of eggs with her mate, the latter stating simply that he had learned his lesson from the last war and would not be leaving his territory anymore. A few others begged off for one reason or another, mainly being distracted by human encroachment upon their lands. Many more simply seemed to have disappeared.

The Southern Ranges were now just too close to the humans.

The small but powerful force that did assemble upon King’s Mountain loyally gathered into a semicircle as Mera landed. They were a mix of veterans as well as fresh new faces who came of age in the decades after the Great War. Pairs of eager, naive, wary, suspicious and tired eyes looked back upon their new Dragon Lord as he walked among them, wondering how he would lead them.

Mera also remained unsure of himself, but here they all were. The bronze dragon lord hid his concerns. No use for everyone to be worried as him-he would just do his best.

Two familiar faces did show up: Wrbreagnck, from the Free Dragon Squadron Mera had led into battle at Caldern, and Raphrsah, from his old 57th Squadron under the Other Men.

Wrbreagnck bowed politely as Mera went towards him first.

*Glad to serve under you again, my lord.* The red dragon stated. *We crowned ourselves in glory and honor defeating the Men of the Snows with the humans. I am sure we will gain further laurels defeating the winged ones.*

Mera scratched his neck. *I’ll be satisfied just driving back the gryphons.*

Wrbreagnck laughed. *We saw them during the fight over the human capital-nothing to worry about, my lord.*

Mera responded with an awkward chuckle and continued on.

A bit further down the line, Raphrsah looked a little older and more wary than when Mera last saw her after the Field of Fire. Still the old brass dragon smiled as the bronze dragon approached.

*I see much has changed since we last met, Meratezatgh, Lord of the Southern Ranges.* Raphrsah observed wryly.

Mera bent down and gently nuzzled her neck. *I appreciate having you with me again, though I wish it were under more fortunate circumstances. Your training and advice were essential for me during those chaotic early days of our draft.*

*And it was fine. You learned quickly as squadron leader. You kept us alive, and you freed us all. You’ll do well as a lord commanding a few wings.*

*I hope so.*

After his quick inspection Mera moved in front of his troops. Forty warriors awaited his command.

*I appreciate all of you for answering your summons, especially so recently after our previous war.* The bronze dragon began. *We must do our duty, even if it is hard on us. The Jutrstra has given us clear orders. We will be defending our mountain range. We are to scout the South end of the Great Valley for any large scale movement of the feathered ones and block any attempts from them passing through. The feathered ones are more welcomed by humans than we are. That means that they could flank us from the South and hit us from the rear. We must prevent that from happening.*

The assembled dragons muttered quietly, some of the younger ones expressing disappointment at missing out on the glory. The older ones were more accepting. With only a small host of warriors to command, plus Meratezagth’s own limited leadership experience, meant that the flight would be relegated to a defensive function, guarding the right flank of the Dragon Nation.

Mera continued.

*When the full moon rises, Rheiserrst and Ewarerfise will attack through the Betakakin Ranges while Teraphstha and Safajae swing down from the Northern Ranges. At that point, our flight will probably be pressured. We will fall back to the mountains and ensure that no gryphons try to break through us while the main fighting goes through the valley. The other Dragon Lords have their orders targeting individual aviaries. When the time comes, we will counterattack and help pursue and destroy the feathered ones.*

The Lord of the Southern Ranges paced back and forth as he talked, unconsciously betraying his nervousness.

*Unfortunately there are not enough of us to hold hundreds of miles of rugged terrain. As a result, the fleetest half of you will be used as a screen to watch for any incursions, while myself and the strongest half of us will act as a reserve and intervene against any attacks if necessary. There will be risks associated with both wings of our force, and I pray to the heavens that we will not encounter anything more than a few scattered groups of gryphons.*

Mera stopped and looked at the group assembled before him.

*Do you all understand?*

No one responded. Though a few nodded.

Mera bowed his head. *Good. Let us do our duty.*

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The Mountain Goats-The Young Thousands

Courtesty of  TheDinosaurMann!