Geology [Featured Battle]

[Dedalous]

Artheridge had been camping along the side of a well worn trade road, trying to rest her sore rump from days of riding, when the first of the roars had sounded. She’d watched a caravan roll by not half an hour prior, and had been contemplating breaking camp and riding to catch up, possibly to ask joint passage, possibly to land a job and keep her fed for a few more days as she got closer to her next destination. Now, however, she dropped everything she was doing, grabbed Vrontìr and her sword belt, and turned to Belfont’s saddle, contemplating it for a moment before deciding speed was of the essence.

People are probably dying, she thought, reaching up to her neck to undo the brooch holding her cloak around her shoulders, then touching a small, silver warhammer hanging in her cleavage. Hope your lessons are enough to help these people, came the unbidden prayer into her mind, a silent nod to her mentor, Arlessen. With that, she spread her russet wings, and with a running leap, and a powerful downstroke, was airborne, calling back to her constant companion and mount.

“Sorry, Belfont. You get to avoid death and mayhem today.”

As she winged her way down the road, flying as high as she could, the source of the commotion quickly came into view. An absolutely massive terrestrial dragon stood in a copse of of trees, breathing emerald flames over the dozens of people arrayed against it. What was worse, though, was that a large portion of the people appeared to be ignoring the dragon completely, and were more interested in fighting the apparent dragonslayers.

Well, we can’t have a dragon running amok, she thought as her mind switched gears to the more tactical side of things, the side she’d only ever used in practice with her dwarven mentor. If she was to survive this fight, she’d need every ounce of training she had.

Winging over the battlefield, she tried to get a lay of the land, and an idea of the disposition of the fighters. The first thing she noticed about the field was that the group she thought were people fighting the ‘dragonslayers,’ as she’d begun calling the beleaguered SNAFU of a group, were not people at all, but tiny versions of the big beastie lording over the field. The next thing she noticed was a dark green, metal… Box, rolling along the ground, charging headlong at the big mamma, before shaking the battlefield with a tunderous roar and sending a projectile of some sort at the dragon. The final thing she noted was a man standing bravely with a freshly loosed bow.

I should join him. Find out what the plan is, she thought, before looking for a relatively sparsely populated area to touch down. Finding a relatively clear area within an easy run of the bowman, the malamute dipped her wings, inadvertently bringing herself in range of the dragonlings shard attacks. A fact she learned in a rather painful manner as, thirty feet up, her wings were perforated in several places, and she rapidly dropped to the ground.

[Bunneh]

A singular blotch of black on my less than pristine fur, my nose twitched as soon as I picked up the scent of the rust and strange oils. The sound of a thunderdrum echoed in my ear - the terrifying call to war of a steadily worsening fate. Creaks and rolls of a bizarre mechanism, like the kind I had seen up in Alerar with its earthless creations, came to my attention as soon as I heard them, and the smell, by Drys the stench.

My eyes almost encompassing a three hundred and sixty degree vision I saw the beast as it came. Large and oblong it was close to a box that moved of its own accord, a cart with what seemed like hundred wheels all joined by some metal linkage. With fury at the profanity of such a cruel horrid sight I leapt out of the way, all use of my silent walk and stealth towards the drakelings gone. Using my dew claws that were formed into something approaching thumbs I pushed a flesh sack aside before burrowing down and away, just in time for the vehicle - for that it what it had to be, some sort of demonic vehicle - to pass by, crushing the skulls of the corpses I had just breathed on into dust.

With eyes of horror I stared at it as it trundled by. My lively heart beating in my chest I held back all the curse-words that I want to blabber out, and denied myself even thought. Knowing it was too late, also, I ripped the rapier from my back, holding it as unsteadily as a midget might hold a full-sized great sword, and paused, before turning to the nearest drakeling.

By Drys, they had seen me already. If the vehicle and my reaction to it had not brought their attention to me, my stark white body against the mud and blood did. With my pink eyes staring at their brown ones, I felt caught in a stalemate, or at least near death.

Fiercely, the drakeling in front of me hissed. And so, I hissed back in a very rabbit-like way. As it reared back its head I thumped my back leg and skipped back a step, ready to be lithe and move when his head would come down for a snap.

Then I would shove my rapier into his sorry little face and damn, he would have an ache.

[black shadow]

Black Shadow had one thought come into his mind as the dragon looked into his eyes: Return.

The arrow that had caused the dragon to lose his eye ripped loose, damaging what was already done even further. It flew quickly back towards Shadow before floating just infront of him. The dragon roared in pain as the arrow had caused more pain than the beast already felt. The look of confusion turned to a look of anger, and Black Sjadow realized this was not a good thing.

The lungs of the dragon expanded, taking in air for its next attack probably, which caused the entire chest to expand. Black Shadow grabbed the arrow and placed it back into his quiver, ready for his certain death. His eyes closed an he though one thing, I'm sorry, Espoir. a tear fell from his eye as he was ready to die. In battle was how he always wanted to die, and there's no better time than against a dragon.

[Hysteria]

The mace hurled by the most unlikely of things struck the dragon’s neck with a dull thud. The warn scales under the creature’s neck cracked and both they and mace fell to the ground. The dragon’s neck didn’t move against the force of the mace, it would take a lot more than that to effect the head’s huge weight. The dragon’s flames seared out of its mouth and caught and dissolved the archer. It was luck, or perhaps the lack of peripheral vision that the flames missed he fallen Furkin.

The dragon’s head flicked to the side, sending the torrent of fire over a few survivors that had managed to escape the dragon’s onslaught and the last remaining dragonlings. These were not so much of a concern however, it’s eyes focused on the tank travelling through the field. The green against the golden wheat, the large trail left in its wake, the tank was not made for stealth.

The dragon’s feet stomped into the thick oil-soaked road to stop at the edge of the field. The creature’s head dropped low as it inhaled a huge breath of air. The dragon’s chest swelled and its torn face focused as best it could towards the tank. The creature exhaled, sending a long stream of fire through the wheat. The crop, the edge of which was coated in the oil, dissolved amid the green flames as the torrent aimed towards the tank.

The creature’s neck was close to the ground, and the point where the tank’s attack had struck was under the creature’s blind eye. A smart observer might have noticed that the flames of the dragon’s attack were not fire, but some raw magical energy. It was that reason the oil had not ignited.

There shouldn’t be any NPCs anymore, all killed off.

The dragonlings and drakelings should likewise be dead or retreated.

Black shadow has been burnt to a crisp.

Flames are aimed at Tankita, possibly getting Bunneh too. The field isn’t on fire.

[Bunneh]

For all the good things that have been done ...

Madly, fearfully, I ran straight for the underside of the drakeling as the fire spewed out. I did not have time to see it direct, but rather, caught it in the distance in the blindspot of my eye. As that vehicle roared, spitting out whatever reaction it deemed necessary, I reacted to my instincts. With the drakeling's tough maw descending and the flames from the great dragon seething, I escaped only just with my life.

Hindfoot pounding on the ground I sent my body into a great surge of activity, expending energy I had collected in my sleep. The drakeling descended, but not in the way I had entirely planned. His legs beneath him collapsed, two by two, first the rear, then the front. I had to exert energy (damn energy) to skip fast to the right to get out of the way of his falling body as my rapier scratched against his rough scales. I was mistaken in thinking the drakeling's maw was descending towards me, whereas in fact his entire being had been descending, falling because of some premature death. Confusion hit me but the body at least was enough of a wall to protect me from most of the flames as they roared into life towards the vehicle, and I caught in the crossfire.

However, fireproof scales make for an excellent life-saver. Especially for a earth spirit.

Eagerly I rolled on the grasses, both rolling to move and rolling to douse the flames. The soft muddy ground would hopefully force the burning to stop - muddy me but also save me. Stop the flames from eating my whole body, especially as I was basically a blaze waiting to happen - that was the most logical step for a plan of next action.


Safe, for at least a pivotal moment, I leaned back, ignoring the final crash of the drakelings head back down to earth, and twisted around to nurse my burnt backside. It was bad. A mad rip of fur and flesh had been devoured by the edges of the flame, and obviously the falling, dying drakeling had snagged on my side at one point. A gaping wound on my flank told of an epic tail, going with the sooty mess that was my butt.

It went out, and I was left with a injured arse and a burnt tail.

[Dedalous]

Pushing herself up to her elbows with a groan of mixed pain and effort, Artheridge glanced around, letting loose a loud curse as she spotted the emerald flames flying at her. Ducking behind a low rise in the flat terrain, the malamute let out another curse as the firestorm raged above her for a few more moments, singeing the feathers on the back of her already injured wings, and stripping her tail of a significant portion of her tail fluff.

“Goddamn motherfucking…” the wounded malamute trailed off, gritting her teeth to deal with the pain, then reaching down to her side to make sure Vrontìr was still intact. Against all odds, it was.

Really glad I listened to that crusty old dwarf, heat hardening the stock like that, she thought. Otherwise I’d be screwed. And with that thought, as well as the knowledge she was still in the fight, she unslung her crossbow, inching her way over the berm that had sheltered her from the brunt of the flames to try and get an idea of what was going on. Her protection was slim, and would stand no chance at all against the concentrated attentions of the dragon, so first order of business was to find a more defensible position. Then, evaluate allied positions, and enemy weaknesses, and how best to exploit them. She wasn’t in communication with any of the combatants, so that last would be incredibly difficult, but this thing had to come down.

There! A ditch was visible along the side of the road, near the crystallized frames of several wagons, what must be the remainder of the caravan that had passed her camp earlier. It was probably filled with muck and mud, would be terribly unpleasant for anyone forced to endure it, but it was the only cover she could see, and would have to do.

“Nothing to it but to do it,” she muttered, heaving herself up to her feet, and bolted for the ditch, praying that the dragon would not notice her.

[Tankita Bananas]

The flames seemed to be anything but. Rancher noticed the fields, soaked in oil, were not lit up with the same emerald death that the dragon spewed. The deadliness of the beast's breath however was still just as potent. He could feel an intense heat from within the confines of his iron plated vehicle. He felt as though he were a pig roasted slowly over a fire as sweat began to pour down more furiously from his helmet. He took the head armor off as a means to try and cool off, if just a little, as he pressed the tank onwards towards his target.

Outwards, the war machine was not faring any better; The iron plating of Tankita Bananas began to corrode and rust away, similar to if a human suffered chemical burns upon their flesh. She tried to stifle her scream of agony but instead let out a high frequency mental shrill to those around her. The half-assed telepathic scream caused Rancher to wince and cover his ears, and he wondered just how much the other players in this game fared against the head traumatizing sound.

"Come on," He whispered as the tank soldiered through the fires, "just a little more, I want to see the emptiness of that thing's lost eye...."

The tank seemed to press forward with more of a fervor at the behest of it's 'master'. It's cannon shifted higher and higher upward as it tried to meet it's winged foe on the battlefield. The soldier looked through a strange device labeled 'Periscope' to see where his sentinel of salvation was aimed before he hit the button to fire once more. Without a second of hesitation, a magical ball of pure energy was fired from the gun of the weapon, aimed upwards and directly towards the open hole of the dragon that sought to destroy it. The blast tore through the mist spewed by the lizard as though it were a knife though butter, unhindered by the faux flames themselves. Rancher continued to suffer through the pain of the high pitched wail as he hoped the blast found its mark and replaced the head of his opposition with a fountain of blood.

((Tankita is screaming in pain, but trying to minimize the damage a telepath's 'scream' would cause in the head of her allies and enemies alike.))

[Hysteria]

The dragon’s flames suddenly ended as the creature stumbled to the side. A flash of magic, a burst of blood and the creature’s already destroyed eye socket was ripped apart further. The dragon stumbled backwards, but it pushed forwards in an attempt to stay upright. It failed. The dragon fell forwards, the mass of its neck collapsed over the very ditch that Artheridge had taken cover in. The creature let laboured breaths wheeze in and out of the large hole in the side of his mouth. It tried to summon more fire, but only managed to dripple weak flames from its mouth.

Well, this looks like it might be the last round, throw your attacks to finish it off!

[Bunneh]

As the last explosion rippled through the scene, I sat up, bold and upright. My ears twitched listening out at the sound, and my nose sniffed the encroaching dusk air. Rapidly I breathed, hearing something in my mind of a female scream, almost metallic in the melody, and I grasped the hilt of my rapier more boldly than I had done as yet.

Something was occurring, something was different now.

Scampering over, I peered from behind the drakeling's body. I saw before me with utter surprise the spluttering last remains of the great earthly dragon, wheezing over the bodies of its previous victims. Once more, the female scream inside of my head rose to a crescendo, meaning someone was in pain, someone of clear mental capacity. As I looked over the frame of the dragon, trying to find a final weakspot to quell its fury, I spoke outwardly, attempting to address whoever it was.

Be still, I told the female, my gaze settling on the exposed skull of the quivering dragon. He cannot hurt us anymore. Firmly, I slipped my rapier onto the sheath at my bag and bent down to all fours. He will soon meet his last.

Powerfully beating the earth with my hindlegs I set off at full charge. The main battle was not far away, and I knew it would not take me long. As I ran I tried to ignore the pain on my flank and tail, and instead solely focused on my direction and the building up of spiritual gases within my gut. They rose to my whim, easily and without fail, as they had every time I had called to them, filling my small but lithe form with the magic of a possessed beast. I scurried past the vehicle and a - what the Drys, a red foxy-cat-human - and powered towards the dragon. As it wheezed a painful breath I burst out from between discarded bodies and sooty earth and leapt right up towards its face.

I tried my best to roar before coming down onto his injury, with the bloody open eye socket and pieces of bone peeping from under skin. Through there, I knew by my studies of anatomy, that there was the brain, and this would be the easiest direction to it. And thus, with a burst of pride, as I came within an inch of my landing place of the dragon's scaly cheek, I released the fire in me. They rose, like a wave, from belly to throat via mouth, releasing themselves as hot red furious flames, tinged with magenta at the edges. Magical fire, spiritual fire, call it whatever you will. I sent it at the dragon's wound, right at the wound, giving it the treatment it had given me.

[Zack Blaze]

The dragon was finally grounded thanks to the efforts of noble heroes and a rabbit. The grounds were peppered with blood and bodies throughout, a true visage of horror to the faint of heart. As the chaos began to wind down, two figures appeared just before the face of the large creature; one a ebony colored ogre dressed in nothing more than a loin cloth and the other was the Eiskalt Mastermind, the owner of the Three Stock and one of the most notorious war prisoners Althanas had ever known, Zack Blaze.

"What are we doing here Blaze?" Makai the ogre asked through gnarled teeth, his voice a jarbled mess of jargon that few could even comprehend.

"Taking the credit for their hard work," the street fighter shrugged and smirked as he watched a lithe white puff skip and hop across the body of their target. The brawler raised an eyebrow as the bunny made its way to the dragon's face. "Would you mind taking care of that rat? I'll clean up the loose ends here."

The black skinned servant growled and leapt into the air, straight towards the features of the dangerous lizard. As he fell, Makai aimed his bare foot, easily bigger than that of the ivory furred vermin, towards the small creature. His intent was not only to squash the 'cute' critter but to also push himself through the eye socket of the dragon as well, ensuring that neither animal would be able to rise from the devastating attack.

Zack, meanwhile turned his attention towards what was left of the warriors remaining. A large contraption slowly inched forward towards his singular eyed prey with all the grace and beauty of a drugged elephant. The smell of oil danced around the nostrils of the warrior, and he grinned as he snapped his fingers. Flames erupted from the hand of the teen, who slung the fire with an underhanded pitch towards the drenched, flammable fields. A fin of sorts rocketed across the ground and instantly ignited the entire field. The fires roared as clouds of gray and black billowed upwards as if to taunt the heavens themselves. The heat nearly overwhelmed the hot headed manipulator instantly as droplets of sweat began to stream down his face.

He turned once more towards the dragon and balled a fist up. This time, electricity snapped and popped off of his fingers as he reared back and sought to plant a singular hit upon the beast. His intent was to use his lightning to sear 'ZB' into the skin of his quarry. He did not take any more time to review his handiwork or even see if the blow would have any sort of impact on the creature as he disappeared with a chuckle and a phrase.

"All hail the Dragon Killer."