FA+
Shop
22 submissions
Altaired Beast Chapter 9: Before the Storm
Credit to alty for bouncing off me; this whole story belongs to he as much as I, as this story was written in tandem.
Remmy and Pierre belong to me
Alton and Joanne belongs to alty
CHAPTER 9
Before the Storm
The party awakens before dawn. The Lord of the owls stands with a lantern to meet them.
"Before we begin," the local Lord starts, "how was our hospitality? It has, naturally, been a while...it wouldn't do to be found lacking in the ways of xenia, even should we not choose to open up borders and trade once more. And damaging our...continued guest...through neglect, wouldn't do."
Remmy nods. "It was more than adequate. Kindness matters more than practice, and as much as necessary you treated us like members of your own community. Should you decide to kill the legend for sake of trade, or even bother to send envoys out rather than accept wanderers or merchants in, I assure you'll not be found wanting."
Joanne pipes up. "And if we spare a moment to talk about that soup! Who would have thought that simmering the cauldron with a mushroom log before removing the fungus from the wood and taking the log out would have made an earthy flavor heavenly? The mossy stone only strengthened the sense...and the way that you used ra-"
"Joanne." Pierre gets her attention and she hushes. "Not...everyone agreed about the choice in meat. Personally, I would have preferred fish..." Alton nods, which Pierre had paused for "...and while it was certainly good, it's no time to gush about last night's dinner."
"R-right. Down to business," Joanne said.
Remmy stood in front of Pierre and faced away from him, so the swan wouldn't have seen Remmy's expression give away the fact that he, too, enjoyed the rat meat, along with Joanne. The owl reminisced about his magic school days when he–and other owl students like him–caught rats in between classes and took them to the kitchen for skinning and cooking, averting the need to cough up "pellets" later. It remains a bad stereotype about owls long after the species bypassed the need for it.
The Lord unrolled a parchment map onto the table. "Here we are, and there is your destination. There's no clear path there as far as the forest goes, as the area is full of nettles and brambles, so short of a long gardening trek, your only option is traversing over it by way of the trees and branches. I'm afraid that will be a problem for the young serpent lass."
"I can carry her up and across, if there's no other option," Alton volunteered.
"And I can provide you an endurance enchantment in the meantime," Joanne replied.
"Good fowl," said the owl. "In that event, following this path," he said as he traced a feather through the forest on the map, "will bring you abouts to the west-southwest slopes of the peak, where your Storm Dragon resides with his captive. This should be more ideal than coming straight up from the south into the plains, where you'll be open to attack from whatever the beast may throw at you."
"And on that note," the owl lord added, "how confident are you that you will succeed in vanquishing this dragon? If it is something above even the Altar Beasts, how can you hope to defeat it? And should you fail, what would that creature do then? Do we avenge your valor or abandon our homes to seek refuge?"
Pierre's face speaks volumes, yet still he opens his mouth. "There won't be a failure on our part. We will not fail to defeat this foe, no matter how fearsome. All our tools, training, magic..."
"That's not to say you shouldn't take steps," Remmy adds. "Your spatial magic should be your best defense, though you'd certainly trap yourselves inside it if you wanted to be certain to keep him out. By the time you would normally consider Paul's sentence complete, I would then recommend you release the barrier; or at least soften it enough to allow passage, news. With any luck by then, an army will have vanquished the beast who considers himself above beasts."
Alton nods. "But, do have faith it won't come to that. Should you be willing, we'll pass back through here first after we are victorious."
The lord nods. "I should think myself willing, and honored to host you once more! Should you be swift enough to return today or within the morrow, I daresay a raucous celebration is in order; rather than the more muted and decently-friendly atmosphere. And hopefully plenty of pep for the final leg of your journey, with a lot more walking."
Joanne chuckles. "We'll be sure to fill our stomachs on the way back."
Remmy raises a wing for attention. "Have any of the more...night-owlish sort made any findings of the magical sort, while I rested? Any last-minute useful knowledge from studies upon what Storm Dragon did to the Holt of Crystal, or the sealing bottles..."
"Ah, yes," the lord replied. "My mages informed me that the entrance was indeed tampered with. They could not say for certain who was responsible, either Storm Dragon or our very own Wolf guardian. The only evidence we have to consider is that the Wolf breached our barrier, which may speak to the Wolf being responsible. Considering what happened, you should count yourselves fortunate we found you before it did. As for present matters," Lord MacDonall pauses to receive a scroll from one of the owl scouts, then hands it to Remmy, "here is what we gathered about the Storm Dragon's keep."
Remmy opened the scroll. Lightly worn but still fresh, it read, "The edge of the wood is eerily bare. Our scrying arts revealed little except the Storm Dragon's predilection for privacy, but with the aid of neighboring hawk scouts, we were able to discern patrols of shadowy creatures circling the peak. There is an entrance high up, large enough to fit a siege engine or battering ram through. No sight of the Storm Dragon."
Remmy rolled the scroll shut and handed it back. "Guarded entry, and no insight on what awaits inside. We've got only our wits to rely on from here, then."
The owl gave a low bow to the Lord of the village. "Thank you, my Lord MacDonall. We are indebted to your help and hospitality. It is time for us to complete our quest."
The party climbed their way over miles of thorny hedge and bramble jumping from branch to branch for an hour or so; Remmy and Pierre by flight, and Joanne and Alton by strength. When they cleared the forest, a harsh wind blew across the sparse wild plains and wastes that surrounded the dark peak. "We've faced sun, wood and snow so far," Alton commented as he started out into the plain toward the mountain. "Now there's only stone surrounded by a storm."
Remmy tilts his head, seemingly in curiosity, but there's a crak and then a few more. "This is what we're here for."
Pierre nods. "That being said, we were warned in advance about those plains looking particularly nasty...and to skirt the edge of them to approach from a more westerly direction. Perhaps we're not west enough?" He squints. "We also seem to have a little company..."
Joanne dismounts Alton. "No, we're definitely in the right place, there was going to be some distance across the plains to the peak no matter what. Pierre, prepare for a haste spell, make mincemeat of those mooks. Remmy, install an element to his blade, if you would?"
Alton cracks his own neck as Pierre holds his sword out to Remmy and widens his wingspan for Joanne. "And I'll hold the line for anything that can get past our fencer."
"I count goblins, kobolds, some skeletons, that may be a few zombies way back there, and at least one of each riding...some beast I can't name," says Remmy, head not looking where his hands are. "And if any of them were pleasant, they probably wouldn't be here."
"That being said," Remmy said, swiveling his head to face Joanne, "I don't suppose you have an enchantment to tame those creatures?"
Joanne glanced at the incoming horde, led by the half-lizard, half-bear mounted riders. "So we can ride them... I can't promise anything, but I think it's worth the attempt."
"It's not in my wheelhouse, but I may be able to help anyways. Pierre, we'll need you to take the riders off them. Alton, keep them and the war parties back as best you can, and Joanne you support him. Ready?"
Pierre drew his rapier. "Let's go!"
Joanne cast a quickening spell on Alton and Pierre and watched them charge forward in a blur, closing the distance in seconds. The white blur dispatched the goblin rider, then bounced to the skeleton rider a few feet over and lanced it to the ground. Meanwhile, the large yellow blur grabbed the goblin's mount by the head and whirled it around, slamming the adjacent mount across the front and catapulting a screaming kobold off its back, while sending the mount itself backwards onto the party of war kobolds behind it.
The yellow blur released the first mount, the momentum sending it crashing like a cannon ball into the goblin horde. It emitted a honking roar, sweeping the wave of kobolds and goblins and either cowing or blowing them back momentarily, while the white blur batted through the skeleton ranks, reducing several to clatters of bones in a series of quicksilver strokes.
The flanks began to pour around the fighters and the few downed beast mounts. Joanne released a string of explosions between them and the oncoming wave of bipedals, taking care to avoid unmounted beasts that charged forward. "That's good, keep it up! Keep them apart until ... now!"
Remmy drew a circle in the air with an upturned feather, trailing with a magical flame. The ground in front of the mounts erupted with a wall of fire that closed around them in a large circle. The beasts reared back and circled around to try and escape, but the circle had already been closed. They were trapped, to which Remmy let out a sigh of relief. "Good! They don't like fire. No time to waste now Joanne, while they keep the horde at bay."
The frontline birds have a conversation that comes out as high-speed gibberish to their enemies, but it informs their next move: they both dash into and past the fray, cutting large swaths of enemies down and weakening anything they fail to cut down entirely, missing some enemies entirely but never being checked in their charge. Alton's forearms and shoulders get put to extra work as he tackles an enlarged gremlin to the ground, getting up into a runner's pose and bodily running through and bowling down a combined group of archers and mages after Pierre, who called them out, passes them up for one of his first stabs of the charge, into a hastily-generated shield of rock and ice by an archmage apparent. And through the hodgepodge enough to stick the kobold, dropping his concentration enough that Pierre drops him like a sack of potatoes.
Pierre finally begins to slow, which is when phase two of the hasty hasted chat comes into play: Alton keeps moving forwards, as Pierre doubles back to reconvene with the mages, who seem to be keeping pace with the trickle of enemies that reach them.
Joanne chants and flicks one wrist, and her staff in the other, unleashing a mighty dust devil that rips enemies off their feet; but an unlucky arrow finds its way right through her palm, down her forearm. She clamps her jaws together to keep from yelping or losing her cool, but Remmy already has a bottle in hand which he uncorks and shoves onto the base of the unbarbed arrow. Not a second after it's left her body does he place his palm onto hers with a little chanting of his own, as his other hand exchanges a bottle of arrow for a bottle of potion which he pours down the hole. "Liquid cell...and a magical command to the wound to close on your palm especially. Keep your arm upright until it scabs, then don't move it too much or it will -" Both he and Joanne upturn their palms, hers holding a staff and his empty, curl fingers up, and push the gesture forcefully towards the enemy group to ripple the very earth into an unsteadying quake "-leak."
Alton disrupted the ranks, splintering them until they retreated past him toward Pierre and the mages. Meanwhile, the fire circle Remmy cast to trap the reptile beasts dissipated. No longer deterred, the four beasts resumed their charge toward Joanne and Remmy.
Pierre made it in time to leap onto the back of the foremost, grabbing his wings around its thick neck and turning hard to the right, cutting off the remaining beasts for a moment. This bought Remmy enough time to cast a second fire circle--this time around himself and Joanne. "We'd better tame those beasts now and ride them through the waves before we're outnumbered. We want to get inside before we spend all our strength and mana out here."
Joanne heeded the suggestion silently, her eyes narrowed on the nearest one to her--the one whose neck Pierre hung around precariously. She elevated herself up above the flames just enough to lock eyes with it, beginning the hypnotic spell. After a few moments, the beast sat back on its haunches. "He's all yours, Pierre!" she shouted over the fire and din, then moved onto the second beast. Then the third, and finally the fourth, while Remmy dispersed arrows and other projectiles with quick, directed gusts of wind acting as ephemeral shields.
Another thundering, squawking roar rung out several yards out, scattering the few platoons closest to his party about the field and out of his way. He returned at a sprint to find Joanne and Remmy mounting the larger scaled steeds, and Pierre handing him the reins of the last one. "Excellent work breaking up the army. Now let's not waste any time breaking through; we should reach the stronghold with time and strength to spare."
Indeed, on Pierre's third pass through the pass, they clear out the remainder of the army they came across, up to Alton, who had allowed only a steady trickle through, and been holding his own line against attempted backstabbing. He's on edge enough to jump at the loud warble behind him, but when four beasts hop past and over him to break, shatter, and scatter the ranks of his foes into a retreat - followed by one of them lowering enough to give him a lift - he won't look a gift horse in the mouth.
After finally routing the enemy forces, a moment of rest is finally held in the antechamber. Remmy pays close attention to Joanne's arm; it had sealed in the serum, but hadn't set, and he refused to let them go into the final encounter without her in the best state they could manage to get her in, on short notice.
This all but mandated a rest. Pierre took a moment to polish his armament of gore and grime with a sheathing and unsheathing, an unstated and understated but useful bit of magic he had found from observation. Then he joined Alton in some stretches; arm, leg, core, and a little bit of vocal.
Joanne, once Remmy had observed her arm as "good enough", did some arm stretches of her own, before taking out a spellbook from her own pack and thumbing through it with Remmy. "Maybe it's a bad time...but a refresh could help. If nothing else, maybe I can make it more efficient, I ran quite a bit of my own mana through that solution to turn it into snakemeat and we weren't exactly conservative with it on our way up..."
"What you need is a quick refresh, not spell alteration," Remmy says, stepping away from the book. "Try drawing it out from the air in breath."
Pierre straightens. "There's clear Eastern philosophy in that."
"Not the first time that's been brought up amongst our group," Alton points out. "We can take a few more minutes for breathing exercises before going in."
Minutes passed. The group ventured past the stone-toothed maw of the dragon's lair and into the throat—a dark passage that dropped into a still-darker pit. "A little light would do us well," said Remmy, lifting up a wingtip and firing a flare-spark from it. Scattered gemstones embedded in the rocky walls reflected the fiery light as it arced down into the pit, revealing narrow ledges and sparse outcroppings in the otherwise vast and empty drop. "Hmm. About 100 meters or more down… and empty."
Pierre peered down the pit. "Perhaps the dragon did not expect us to get this far, but he still has the advantage. We don't know what's down there waiting for us."
Alton interjected, "Suppose he waits for us to climb down before filling the cavern with fire and thunder and having us for dinner?"
"I want to have dinner, not be dinner," Joanne replied.
"In that case, we stick together going down," suggested Pierre. "Easiest to shield us all in a magic bubble when we're close."
"Agreed," said Remmy. "Pierre and I can take point while you two climb down above us. If shield magic fails us, I have backups," the owl patted his satchel filled with empty bottles, "...and if I can catch anything, perhaps I can use it against the Lord of Beasts."
Pierre frowns. "I wonder if those will even work on him. He's seen what we've done to his...'colleagues'. Isn't he supposed to be more powerful? And intelligent?"
There's some idle uncertainty, but nothing to be done about it. Everyone sidles closer together, and Remmy proceeds to practice a few shields at varying levels of swiftness and power. "...let's go."
Pierre and Remmy hopped off the edge first. They descended a few meters before catching onto a ledge, and Remmy cast a few more miniature flares to light the way down. Alton picked up Joanne by her hips and began climbing down after them, her tail wrapped twice around his hips; the two pairs of mages and fighters would each share a shield spell if the situation called for one. Thankfully--or perhaps eerily--the half-hour descent into the dragon's den proved to be silent... and increasingly hot.
"Out of the frying pan..." Alton started.
"...and into the fire," party finished in unison.
A distant sound of bubbling echoed to greet them, thick and slow, together with the noxious scent of molten rock. "A breathing ward will ensure we don't collapse from lack of air. Everyone say 'aaah'."
A small chorus of 'aaahs' is met with a feathered flick as the owl cast a green shard of magic into each's mouth. They swallowed and breathed in and out, noting a taste as they did so. "Refreshing mint," commented Joanne, wiggling her forked tongue out and smacking her lips, "...nice!"
"Thank you. Fresh breath in as well as out, I figured, when I made this spell," Remmy responded. "Fire or other offensive breath spells proved tricky and dangerous, doubly so if you're not physically built for it." Remmy cast a glance to Alton for a moment, then hummed and turn around. "Whatever surprises wait for us in that lair, I'm confident we come with our own fair share."
"Together now," Pierre said, stepping forward to the cave mouth. "We've reached the end. We don't leave here without the Storm Dragon defeated or the princess rescued. That means we go in defensively. Remmy, Joanne, please be ready with a barrier spell for us."
The two mages ready the spells in their minds and their channels, and Alton moves forward to Pierre's side. "Lead the way, Pierre."
The smoke and heat make it hard to see, but his eyes are keen and he makes way forward. Forward, into the caldera, until feet find flatter ground. A stream of magma sheds light uninterrupted by toxic smoke on the left, a waymarker of some sort. Remmy casts a cooling spell of some variety towards the left to attempt to shield from the ambient heat, muttering about convection; Joanne thanks him before casting an iceberg before them all, one that briefly blocks their way, but quickly begins to turn to steam and mist, that she rubs against while slithering around.
"Joanne...don't waste your magic like this," Alton states with hefty concern.
"I have to do something," she says in defense. "I'm sweating in my skin and feel like I need to shed soon. If I don't manage getting cooked, I'll scorch, and making myself vulnerable is no way to go."
Remmy quietly takes out a bottle with potion, and an empty bottle. One he hands to Joanne, and the other he waves his wing over before uncorking at the base of the icicle. "This should draw away mist before it becomes steam, and leave more to evaporate your tiny Everest. Drink that and recover. And if you need to shed right now, I can try and get a bottle to draw away your shed without pulling you in, but you'd need to have it actually feel separate. It's risky."
"Maybe I can be pulled in and slither out of my skin when I slither out of the bottle. But not here and not now. Absolutely not."
A minute passes as the micromountain shrinks, and feeling somewhat refreshed by the rash action, the party continues as Remmy corks his new bottle of mist.
They tramped over the cool wet rock where the iceberg had melted, and entered the tunnel. The heat grew steadily as they walked, and the smoke began to thicken into a smog. In minutes, it filled the narrow passage and obscured their vision, forcing them to mind each step and ensure they didn't step into a hole, or worse.
Pierre and Alton led at the front, waving the smog aside as needed, while Remmy and Joanne brought up the rear, occasionally stealing a glance behind them. Joanne rubbed at the dead skin of her arm, growing more brittle and cracked by the moment. The rest of her body looked a much more faded green than a few days ago. Can't be helped, she thought to herself, and gripped her staff with both hands as she slithered forward. Remmy tightened his pack strap and moved along beside her.
They could hear the sound of molten rock flowing and bubbling ahead of them, and the tunnel began to widen. The magma's light hazily illuminated the surrounding rock, revealing a wide path before them that ended in a large circle, half-obscured by volcanic miasma. The streams on either side descended into a chasm, feeding a much larger river that flowed underneath, and separating them from the still-obscured far side of the cavern.
An eerie silence greeted them as they approached the circle, the sounds of flowing magma aside. "I have a dreadful feel--"
Pierre's statement was cut off by a flash. A tendril of lightning shot through the cloud and struck the shield bubble that encased the party--a hasty and life-saving reaction on the part of the mages. Thunder rang out and filled their ears as the electricity crashed and dispersed around them, and thousands of tiny bolts spidered through the cloud of smog before them. The parried lightning struck the tunnel behind them, loosening rock and sealing their exit. In the instant before the thunder, Pierre discerned a towering white silhouette of a horned, winged beast.
A howl like a mountain dragging over granite followed, the force of it driving the smoke away. The beast sustained the deafening roar, causing the protective bubble around them to grind ever so slightly backward. Even inside it, the party could feel themselves resisting the wind, feathers loosening and being blown back along with flakes of snakeskin. They braced against the storm until it suddenly stopped, and the magic barrier flickered until the mages allowed it to fall.
Remmy briefly breathes heavily after that. He cranes his neck around; to observe everyone; they're all rattled by the experience. "Real, nonmagical lightning is already destructive enough," he manages to speak out. "That unnatural roar though..."
Joanne's tongue flicks out and recoils at the potent flavor of ozone.
Pierre slowly points his sword. "Look, should you not be blinded..."
Alton looks out and sees the dust and debris and smoke having thinned out, for just now. He sees the Storm Dragon.
The party shudders.
A low, gravelly rumble sounds from the titan's towering throat, filling the space before them. Atop his craggy perch--a throne of carved volcanic rock and sliced geodes--the Storm Dragon loomed high over the expanse: a jet-black beast whose scales bore silvery sword-like edges, running across his trunk at jagged angles. There was no weak underbelly to speak of, as even his legs and arms were fully armored. The beast's eyes glow like fiery rubies, blurred lightly by the wisps of steam escaping its maw.
He made a low, grating noise, as if clearing his gargantuan throat.
"If you had only announced yourselves earlier," said the Dragon loudly, "we could have shared a friendly session of breathing exercises together."
He placed a clawed hand over his armored breast and lightly tipped his head forward in a mock bow. "I do thank you for allowing me to finish mine, all the same. Now, my champions," he continued, "how might the Lord of Storms accommodate your visit?"
Pierre stepped forward. "We are here for Princess Nagoya!"
The Storm Dragon's laughter boomed, creating waves of air that crashed around each of them. "Ah yes! Of course; my prized possession..."
A faint clang of iron rings out. The great dragon's tail, clad with dark scales and ridged with thousands of white spikes, unfurls from behind him. At the very tip, a cage swings precariously by a hooked chain, and inside is the captive princess. She hangs to the bars tightly, as if letting go might cause her to fall through them to her death.
"Tell me, then," the Dragon continues, "... what will you give me in exchange?"
Pierre points his sword. "The same as you've so graciously given us: nothing solid, but a hard time. A tough fight. And unwilling capture. You are a thief of people. There can be no negotiation. No tribute for someone who cannot give back. And you haven't enough power and resources left to stop us from stopping you...you are alone."
Nagoya puts a hand over her heart as it skips a beat at the eloquent speechifying…
"Let's be reasonable," says Remmy. "Find it in yourself to turn yourself over and release the Princess and we will not come to blows, though you may well be tried for the trouble you've caused. Your fate is not guaranteed should we clash."
"Hmph." The Storm Dragon scoffs. "You're welcome to pull up seats and watch as I make conquest. Or turn yourselves over as effective lieutenants...though, your loyalties would have to be fixed if you did..."
Alton honks a very loud scoff-like noise. "I take it you intend to dig your heels in?"
"Is that a no to mine own generous offer of mercy? I would not even make you fight one another to prove your values! Tis a waste of resources."
Silence, for a few long seconds.
Joanne's tail coils tightly. "As a fellow reptilian...you sicken me."
"So be it."
BANG
A blinding flash of electricity and deafening peal of thunder before them allows the Dragon to escape - not the arena, but to a wall, where weaponry and treasures hang. Shields, treated as ornamental and passed up...but a threatening pair of greataxes hangs, one above the other. Reaching up out of the ability for most to touch, the Storm Dragon takes the lower one. A shiny golden axe...
Remmy and Pierre belong to me
Alton and Joanne belongs to alty
CHAPTER 9
Before the Storm
The party awakens before dawn. The Lord of the owls stands with a lantern to meet them.
"Before we begin," the local Lord starts, "how was our hospitality? It has, naturally, been a while...it wouldn't do to be found lacking in the ways of xenia, even should we not choose to open up borders and trade once more. And damaging our...continued guest...through neglect, wouldn't do."
Remmy nods. "It was more than adequate. Kindness matters more than practice, and as much as necessary you treated us like members of your own community. Should you decide to kill the legend for sake of trade, or even bother to send envoys out rather than accept wanderers or merchants in, I assure you'll not be found wanting."
Joanne pipes up. "And if we spare a moment to talk about that soup! Who would have thought that simmering the cauldron with a mushroom log before removing the fungus from the wood and taking the log out would have made an earthy flavor heavenly? The mossy stone only strengthened the sense...and the way that you used ra-"
"Joanne." Pierre gets her attention and she hushes. "Not...everyone agreed about the choice in meat. Personally, I would have preferred fish..." Alton nods, which Pierre had paused for "...and while it was certainly good, it's no time to gush about last night's dinner."
"R-right. Down to business," Joanne said.
Remmy stood in front of Pierre and faced away from him, so the swan wouldn't have seen Remmy's expression give away the fact that he, too, enjoyed the rat meat, along with Joanne. The owl reminisced about his magic school days when he–and other owl students like him–caught rats in between classes and took them to the kitchen for skinning and cooking, averting the need to cough up "pellets" later. It remains a bad stereotype about owls long after the species bypassed the need for it.
The Lord unrolled a parchment map onto the table. "Here we are, and there is your destination. There's no clear path there as far as the forest goes, as the area is full of nettles and brambles, so short of a long gardening trek, your only option is traversing over it by way of the trees and branches. I'm afraid that will be a problem for the young serpent lass."
"I can carry her up and across, if there's no other option," Alton volunteered.
"And I can provide you an endurance enchantment in the meantime," Joanne replied.
"Good fowl," said the owl. "In that event, following this path," he said as he traced a feather through the forest on the map, "will bring you abouts to the west-southwest slopes of the peak, where your Storm Dragon resides with his captive. This should be more ideal than coming straight up from the south into the plains, where you'll be open to attack from whatever the beast may throw at you."
"And on that note," the owl lord added, "how confident are you that you will succeed in vanquishing this dragon? If it is something above even the Altar Beasts, how can you hope to defeat it? And should you fail, what would that creature do then? Do we avenge your valor or abandon our homes to seek refuge?"
Pierre's face speaks volumes, yet still he opens his mouth. "There won't be a failure on our part. We will not fail to defeat this foe, no matter how fearsome. All our tools, training, magic..."
"That's not to say you shouldn't take steps," Remmy adds. "Your spatial magic should be your best defense, though you'd certainly trap yourselves inside it if you wanted to be certain to keep him out. By the time you would normally consider Paul's sentence complete, I would then recommend you release the barrier; or at least soften it enough to allow passage, news. With any luck by then, an army will have vanquished the beast who considers himself above beasts."
Alton nods. "But, do have faith it won't come to that. Should you be willing, we'll pass back through here first after we are victorious."
The lord nods. "I should think myself willing, and honored to host you once more! Should you be swift enough to return today or within the morrow, I daresay a raucous celebration is in order; rather than the more muted and decently-friendly atmosphere. And hopefully plenty of pep for the final leg of your journey, with a lot more walking."
Joanne chuckles. "We'll be sure to fill our stomachs on the way back."
Remmy raises a wing for attention. "Have any of the more...night-owlish sort made any findings of the magical sort, while I rested? Any last-minute useful knowledge from studies upon what Storm Dragon did to the Holt of Crystal, or the sealing bottles..."
"Ah, yes," the lord replied. "My mages informed me that the entrance was indeed tampered with. They could not say for certain who was responsible, either Storm Dragon or our very own Wolf guardian. The only evidence we have to consider is that the Wolf breached our barrier, which may speak to the Wolf being responsible. Considering what happened, you should count yourselves fortunate we found you before it did. As for present matters," Lord MacDonall pauses to receive a scroll from one of the owl scouts, then hands it to Remmy, "here is what we gathered about the Storm Dragon's keep."
Remmy opened the scroll. Lightly worn but still fresh, it read, "The edge of the wood is eerily bare. Our scrying arts revealed little except the Storm Dragon's predilection for privacy, but with the aid of neighboring hawk scouts, we were able to discern patrols of shadowy creatures circling the peak. There is an entrance high up, large enough to fit a siege engine or battering ram through. No sight of the Storm Dragon."
Remmy rolled the scroll shut and handed it back. "Guarded entry, and no insight on what awaits inside. We've got only our wits to rely on from here, then."
The owl gave a low bow to the Lord of the village. "Thank you, my Lord MacDonall. We are indebted to your help and hospitality. It is time for us to complete our quest."
The party climbed their way over miles of thorny hedge and bramble jumping from branch to branch for an hour or so; Remmy and Pierre by flight, and Joanne and Alton by strength. When they cleared the forest, a harsh wind blew across the sparse wild plains and wastes that surrounded the dark peak. "We've faced sun, wood and snow so far," Alton commented as he started out into the plain toward the mountain. "Now there's only stone surrounded by a storm."
Remmy tilts his head, seemingly in curiosity, but there's a crak and then a few more. "This is what we're here for."
Pierre nods. "That being said, we were warned in advance about those plains looking particularly nasty...and to skirt the edge of them to approach from a more westerly direction. Perhaps we're not west enough?" He squints. "We also seem to have a little company..."
Joanne dismounts Alton. "No, we're definitely in the right place, there was going to be some distance across the plains to the peak no matter what. Pierre, prepare for a haste spell, make mincemeat of those mooks. Remmy, install an element to his blade, if you would?"
Alton cracks his own neck as Pierre holds his sword out to Remmy and widens his wingspan for Joanne. "And I'll hold the line for anything that can get past our fencer."
"I count goblins, kobolds, some skeletons, that may be a few zombies way back there, and at least one of each riding...some beast I can't name," says Remmy, head not looking where his hands are. "And if any of them were pleasant, they probably wouldn't be here."
"That being said," Remmy said, swiveling his head to face Joanne, "I don't suppose you have an enchantment to tame those creatures?"
Joanne glanced at the incoming horde, led by the half-lizard, half-bear mounted riders. "So we can ride them... I can't promise anything, but I think it's worth the attempt."
"It's not in my wheelhouse, but I may be able to help anyways. Pierre, we'll need you to take the riders off them. Alton, keep them and the war parties back as best you can, and Joanne you support him. Ready?"
Pierre drew his rapier. "Let's go!"
Joanne cast a quickening spell on Alton and Pierre and watched them charge forward in a blur, closing the distance in seconds. The white blur dispatched the goblin rider, then bounced to the skeleton rider a few feet over and lanced it to the ground. Meanwhile, the large yellow blur grabbed the goblin's mount by the head and whirled it around, slamming the adjacent mount across the front and catapulting a screaming kobold off its back, while sending the mount itself backwards onto the party of war kobolds behind it.
The yellow blur released the first mount, the momentum sending it crashing like a cannon ball into the goblin horde. It emitted a honking roar, sweeping the wave of kobolds and goblins and either cowing or blowing them back momentarily, while the white blur batted through the skeleton ranks, reducing several to clatters of bones in a series of quicksilver strokes.
The flanks began to pour around the fighters and the few downed beast mounts. Joanne released a string of explosions between them and the oncoming wave of bipedals, taking care to avoid unmounted beasts that charged forward. "That's good, keep it up! Keep them apart until ... now!"
Remmy drew a circle in the air with an upturned feather, trailing with a magical flame. The ground in front of the mounts erupted with a wall of fire that closed around them in a large circle. The beasts reared back and circled around to try and escape, but the circle had already been closed. They were trapped, to which Remmy let out a sigh of relief. "Good! They don't like fire. No time to waste now Joanne, while they keep the horde at bay."
The frontline birds have a conversation that comes out as high-speed gibberish to their enemies, but it informs their next move: they both dash into and past the fray, cutting large swaths of enemies down and weakening anything they fail to cut down entirely, missing some enemies entirely but never being checked in their charge. Alton's forearms and shoulders get put to extra work as he tackles an enlarged gremlin to the ground, getting up into a runner's pose and bodily running through and bowling down a combined group of archers and mages after Pierre, who called them out, passes them up for one of his first stabs of the charge, into a hastily-generated shield of rock and ice by an archmage apparent. And through the hodgepodge enough to stick the kobold, dropping his concentration enough that Pierre drops him like a sack of potatoes.
Pierre finally begins to slow, which is when phase two of the hasty hasted chat comes into play: Alton keeps moving forwards, as Pierre doubles back to reconvene with the mages, who seem to be keeping pace with the trickle of enemies that reach them.
Joanne chants and flicks one wrist, and her staff in the other, unleashing a mighty dust devil that rips enemies off their feet; but an unlucky arrow finds its way right through her palm, down her forearm. She clamps her jaws together to keep from yelping or losing her cool, but Remmy already has a bottle in hand which he uncorks and shoves onto the base of the unbarbed arrow. Not a second after it's left her body does he place his palm onto hers with a little chanting of his own, as his other hand exchanges a bottle of arrow for a bottle of potion which he pours down the hole. "Liquid cell...and a magical command to the wound to close on your palm especially. Keep your arm upright until it scabs, then don't move it too much or it will -" Both he and Joanne upturn their palms, hers holding a staff and his empty, curl fingers up, and push the gesture forcefully towards the enemy group to ripple the very earth into an unsteadying quake "-leak."
Alton disrupted the ranks, splintering them until they retreated past him toward Pierre and the mages. Meanwhile, the fire circle Remmy cast to trap the reptile beasts dissipated. No longer deterred, the four beasts resumed their charge toward Joanne and Remmy.
Pierre made it in time to leap onto the back of the foremost, grabbing his wings around its thick neck and turning hard to the right, cutting off the remaining beasts for a moment. This bought Remmy enough time to cast a second fire circle--this time around himself and Joanne. "We'd better tame those beasts now and ride them through the waves before we're outnumbered. We want to get inside before we spend all our strength and mana out here."
Joanne heeded the suggestion silently, her eyes narrowed on the nearest one to her--the one whose neck Pierre hung around precariously. She elevated herself up above the flames just enough to lock eyes with it, beginning the hypnotic spell. After a few moments, the beast sat back on its haunches. "He's all yours, Pierre!" she shouted over the fire and din, then moved onto the second beast. Then the third, and finally the fourth, while Remmy dispersed arrows and other projectiles with quick, directed gusts of wind acting as ephemeral shields.
Another thundering, squawking roar rung out several yards out, scattering the few platoons closest to his party about the field and out of his way. He returned at a sprint to find Joanne and Remmy mounting the larger scaled steeds, and Pierre handing him the reins of the last one. "Excellent work breaking up the army. Now let's not waste any time breaking through; we should reach the stronghold with time and strength to spare."
Indeed, on Pierre's third pass through the pass, they clear out the remainder of the army they came across, up to Alton, who had allowed only a steady trickle through, and been holding his own line against attempted backstabbing. He's on edge enough to jump at the loud warble behind him, but when four beasts hop past and over him to break, shatter, and scatter the ranks of his foes into a retreat - followed by one of them lowering enough to give him a lift - he won't look a gift horse in the mouth.
After finally routing the enemy forces, a moment of rest is finally held in the antechamber. Remmy pays close attention to Joanne's arm; it had sealed in the serum, but hadn't set, and he refused to let them go into the final encounter without her in the best state they could manage to get her in, on short notice.
This all but mandated a rest. Pierre took a moment to polish his armament of gore and grime with a sheathing and unsheathing, an unstated and understated but useful bit of magic he had found from observation. Then he joined Alton in some stretches; arm, leg, core, and a little bit of vocal.
Joanne, once Remmy had observed her arm as "good enough", did some arm stretches of her own, before taking out a spellbook from her own pack and thumbing through it with Remmy. "Maybe it's a bad time...but a refresh could help. If nothing else, maybe I can make it more efficient, I ran quite a bit of my own mana through that solution to turn it into snakemeat and we weren't exactly conservative with it on our way up..."
"What you need is a quick refresh, not spell alteration," Remmy says, stepping away from the book. "Try drawing it out from the air in breath."
Pierre straightens. "There's clear Eastern philosophy in that."
"Not the first time that's been brought up amongst our group," Alton points out. "We can take a few more minutes for breathing exercises before going in."
Minutes passed. The group ventured past the stone-toothed maw of the dragon's lair and into the throat—a dark passage that dropped into a still-darker pit. "A little light would do us well," said Remmy, lifting up a wingtip and firing a flare-spark from it. Scattered gemstones embedded in the rocky walls reflected the fiery light as it arced down into the pit, revealing narrow ledges and sparse outcroppings in the otherwise vast and empty drop. "Hmm. About 100 meters or more down… and empty."
Pierre peered down the pit. "Perhaps the dragon did not expect us to get this far, but he still has the advantage. We don't know what's down there waiting for us."
Alton interjected, "Suppose he waits for us to climb down before filling the cavern with fire and thunder and having us for dinner?"
"I want to have dinner, not be dinner," Joanne replied.
"In that case, we stick together going down," suggested Pierre. "Easiest to shield us all in a magic bubble when we're close."
"Agreed," said Remmy. "Pierre and I can take point while you two climb down above us. If shield magic fails us, I have backups," the owl patted his satchel filled with empty bottles, "...and if I can catch anything, perhaps I can use it against the Lord of Beasts."
Pierre frowns. "I wonder if those will even work on him. He's seen what we've done to his...'colleagues'. Isn't he supposed to be more powerful? And intelligent?"
There's some idle uncertainty, but nothing to be done about it. Everyone sidles closer together, and Remmy proceeds to practice a few shields at varying levels of swiftness and power. "...let's go."
Pierre and Remmy hopped off the edge first. They descended a few meters before catching onto a ledge, and Remmy cast a few more miniature flares to light the way down. Alton picked up Joanne by her hips and began climbing down after them, her tail wrapped twice around his hips; the two pairs of mages and fighters would each share a shield spell if the situation called for one. Thankfully--or perhaps eerily--the half-hour descent into the dragon's den proved to be silent... and increasingly hot.
"Out of the frying pan..." Alton started.
"...and into the fire," party finished in unison.
A distant sound of bubbling echoed to greet them, thick and slow, together with the noxious scent of molten rock. "A breathing ward will ensure we don't collapse from lack of air. Everyone say 'aaah'."
A small chorus of 'aaahs' is met with a feathered flick as the owl cast a green shard of magic into each's mouth. They swallowed and breathed in and out, noting a taste as they did so. "Refreshing mint," commented Joanne, wiggling her forked tongue out and smacking her lips, "...nice!"
"Thank you. Fresh breath in as well as out, I figured, when I made this spell," Remmy responded. "Fire or other offensive breath spells proved tricky and dangerous, doubly so if you're not physically built for it." Remmy cast a glance to Alton for a moment, then hummed and turn around. "Whatever surprises wait for us in that lair, I'm confident we come with our own fair share."
"Together now," Pierre said, stepping forward to the cave mouth. "We've reached the end. We don't leave here without the Storm Dragon defeated or the princess rescued. That means we go in defensively. Remmy, Joanne, please be ready with a barrier spell for us."
The two mages ready the spells in their minds and their channels, and Alton moves forward to Pierre's side. "Lead the way, Pierre."
The smoke and heat make it hard to see, but his eyes are keen and he makes way forward. Forward, into the caldera, until feet find flatter ground. A stream of magma sheds light uninterrupted by toxic smoke on the left, a waymarker of some sort. Remmy casts a cooling spell of some variety towards the left to attempt to shield from the ambient heat, muttering about convection; Joanne thanks him before casting an iceberg before them all, one that briefly blocks their way, but quickly begins to turn to steam and mist, that she rubs against while slithering around.
"Joanne...don't waste your magic like this," Alton states with hefty concern.
"I have to do something," she says in defense. "I'm sweating in my skin and feel like I need to shed soon. If I don't manage getting cooked, I'll scorch, and making myself vulnerable is no way to go."
Remmy quietly takes out a bottle with potion, and an empty bottle. One he hands to Joanne, and the other he waves his wing over before uncorking at the base of the icicle. "This should draw away mist before it becomes steam, and leave more to evaporate your tiny Everest. Drink that and recover. And if you need to shed right now, I can try and get a bottle to draw away your shed without pulling you in, but you'd need to have it actually feel separate. It's risky."
"Maybe I can be pulled in and slither out of my skin when I slither out of the bottle. But not here and not now. Absolutely not."
A minute passes as the micromountain shrinks, and feeling somewhat refreshed by the rash action, the party continues as Remmy corks his new bottle of mist.
They tramped over the cool wet rock where the iceberg had melted, and entered the tunnel. The heat grew steadily as they walked, and the smoke began to thicken into a smog. In minutes, it filled the narrow passage and obscured their vision, forcing them to mind each step and ensure they didn't step into a hole, or worse.
Pierre and Alton led at the front, waving the smog aside as needed, while Remmy and Joanne brought up the rear, occasionally stealing a glance behind them. Joanne rubbed at the dead skin of her arm, growing more brittle and cracked by the moment. The rest of her body looked a much more faded green than a few days ago. Can't be helped, she thought to herself, and gripped her staff with both hands as she slithered forward. Remmy tightened his pack strap and moved along beside her.
They could hear the sound of molten rock flowing and bubbling ahead of them, and the tunnel began to widen. The magma's light hazily illuminated the surrounding rock, revealing a wide path before them that ended in a large circle, half-obscured by volcanic miasma. The streams on either side descended into a chasm, feeding a much larger river that flowed underneath, and separating them from the still-obscured far side of the cavern.
An eerie silence greeted them as they approached the circle, the sounds of flowing magma aside. "I have a dreadful feel--"
Pierre's statement was cut off by a flash. A tendril of lightning shot through the cloud and struck the shield bubble that encased the party--a hasty and life-saving reaction on the part of the mages. Thunder rang out and filled their ears as the electricity crashed and dispersed around them, and thousands of tiny bolts spidered through the cloud of smog before them. The parried lightning struck the tunnel behind them, loosening rock and sealing their exit. In the instant before the thunder, Pierre discerned a towering white silhouette of a horned, winged beast.
A howl like a mountain dragging over granite followed, the force of it driving the smoke away. The beast sustained the deafening roar, causing the protective bubble around them to grind ever so slightly backward. Even inside it, the party could feel themselves resisting the wind, feathers loosening and being blown back along with flakes of snakeskin. They braced against the storm until it suddenly stopped, and the magic barrier flickered until the mages allowed it to fall.
Remmy briefly breathes heavily after that. He cranes his neck around; to observe everyone; they're all rattled by the experience. "Real, nonmagical lightning is already destructive enough," he manages to speak out. "That unnatural roar though..."
Joanne's tongue flicks out and recoils at the potent flavor of ozone.
Pierre slowly points his sword. "Look, should you not be blinded..."
Alton looks out and sees the dust and debris and smoke having thinned out, for just now. He sees the Storm Dragon.
The party shudders.
A low, gravelly rumble sounds from the titan's towering throat, filling the space before them. Atop his craggy perch--a throne of carved volcanic rock and sliced geodes--the Storm Dragon loomed high over the expanse: a jet-black beast whose scales bore silvery sword-like edges, running across his trunk at jagged angles. There was no weak underbelly to speak of, as even his legs and arms were fully armored. The beast's eyes glow like fiery rubies, blurred lightly by the wisps of steam escaping its maw.
He made a low, grating noise, as if clearing his gargantuan throat.
"If you had only announced yourselves earlier," said the Dragon loudly, "we could have shared a friendly session of breathing exercises together."
He placed a clawed hand over his armored breast and lightly tipped his head forward in a mock bow. "I do thank you for allowing me to finish mine, all the same. Now, my champions," he continued, "how might the Lord of Storms accommodate your visit?"
Pierre stepped forward. "We are here for Princess Nagoya!"
The Storm Dragon's laughter boomed, creating waves of air that crashed around each of them. "Ah yes! Of course; my prized possession..."
A faint clang of iron rings out. The great dragon's tail, clad with dark scales and ridged with thousands of white spikes, unfurls from behind him. At the very tip, a cage swings precariously by a hooked chain, and inside is the captive princess. She hangs to the bars tightly, as if letting go might cause her to fall through them to her death.
"Tell me, then," the Dragon continues, "... what will you give me in exchange?"
Pierre points his sword. "The same as you've so graciously given us: nothing solid, but a hard time. A tough fight. And unwilling capture. You are a thief of people. There can be no negotiation. No tribute for someone who cannot give back. And you haven't enough power and resources left to stop us from stopping you...you are alone."
Nagoya puts a hand over her heart as it skips a beat at the eloquent speechifying…
"Let's be reasonable," says Remmy. "Find it in yourself to turn yourself over and release the Princess and we will not come to blows, though you may well be tried for the trouble you've caused. Your fate is not guaranteed should we clash."
"Hmph." The Storm Dragon scoffs. "You're welcome to pull up seats and watch as I make conquest. Or turn yourselves over as effective lieutenants...though, your loyalties would have to be fixed if you did..."
Alton honks a very loud scoff-like noise. "I take it you intend to dig your heels in?"
"Is that a no to mine own generous offer of mercy? I would not even make you fight one another to prove your values! Tis a waste of resources."
Silence, for a few long seconds.
Joanne's tail coils tightly. "As a fellow reptilian...you sicken me."
"So be it."
BANG
A blinding flash of electricity and deafening peal of thunder before them allows the Dragon to escape - not the arena, but to a wall, where weaponry and treasures hang. Shields, treated as ornamental and passed up...but a threatening pair of greataxes hangs, one above the other. Reaching up out of the ability for most to touch, the Storm Dragon takes the lower one. A shiny golden axe...
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Avian (Other)
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 21 kB
Comments