Tears of the Sun

((Closed to Storm Veritas, Elite Optic, Hysteria, Redford and myself. Sunwing to be GM'd by Cards of Fate))

There was no creature alive in the Mountains of Twilight, the vast mountain range that seperated Alerar and Raiaera, that was awake at this early time in the morning. Only a hint of dawn, a single shred of light, appeared in the inky, cloud smudged sky. Flat platforms of gravel and dirt, flanked by imposing, jagged rocks that jutted out of the mountainside formed the basis of a campsite. The bitter odour of burning wood mixed with the sweet scents of roasting berries drifted on the morning wind.

"The Mountains of Twilight" Shinsou muttered, poking the dying embers of the campfire with a bare twig from the doorway of his crudely constructed tent. “Tell me, Bane, why are we doing this again?”

Bane Stark, Shinsou’s guardian who had stood guard at their campsite on the fringes of what was considered the safe part of the mountains for most of the day prior, shook his head silently. As always, a single scarred hand remained gripped around the hilt of his double bladed swallow. Mostly, it was out of pure habit, but the nature of their quarry was reason enough to be on guard.

“We – well, you – need both the training and the bounty, so stop moaning. Besides, this time you’ll have help. It’s a large bounty, so I’ve called in a favour with some connections to get you some playmates. If you’ve any sense, you’ll learn something from them.”

His navy green ranger’s gear, smeared with mud and streaks of rusty dried blood from slain fiends, flashed momentarily from underneath a black greatcoat as it was rushed by the breeze. Bane stroked his black beard, and then disappeared from view to perform a quick patrol round to a ridge a few metres from their campsite, just to be certain they were alone.

Shinsou winced as he heard his bodyguard, and friend, noisily kicking up shale and fragments of stone as he paced.

Fucking hell, Bane, He fumed. Could you attract any more attention to us?!

The Telgradian sighed, shaking his head in frustration, and then looked down the ridge towards the beaten mountain path his new ‘friends’ would take to his campsite. As he did, Shinsou wondered why he was never far from conflict. The scent of it was always there, enveloping him. For the most part, life for him had ground to a resounding halt. The one objective in his life that remained, the obliteration of the Jal Shey and Temperance, he could currently do nothing about in his current state. As a result, there was much fear in the young man for the future, although he himself knew he could never admit it.

Shinsou, however, was characteristically calm about the battle ahead of him, despite his earlier whining. His soft, golden eyes veered across the rugged mountain terrain as he remembered the reason for them being here. They were here to kill find and kill a beast known as SunWing, a dragon that had spent its entire life throwing nearby settlements into turmoil and razing anything that got in its way. Shinsou knew that this would be a rare opportunity for him to test his skills and earn some money along the way, but the main attractions of doing this sort of work relied heavily upon him staying alive long enough to enjoy the benefits.

The beginnings of a rainstorm beat at the already weathered rocks of the mountainside, with monstrous droplets shattering into white pearls against the granite peaks and splashing into a nearby stream that wound through crevices in the rock face, but the Telgradian barely flinched. He just watched silently as Bane completed his rounds, and waited for the others to come.

Although their tracks had been minor, it was easy enough to spot the small group from horseback. They were an entertaining tandem; clearly doing their best to hide their tracks. One was sleek and sinewy, the other a clodding buffoon. Either way, it would be foolish to sneak up on them, so Storm Veritas made his presence known clearly.

“Holy shit, gentlemen! If you’re going to clank about and be so goddamned loud, don’t waste the effort to hide your tracks.”

With the just-rising sun a dull orb of white in a thin blanket of clouds at his back, the tall aristocrat rode down the mountain towards them. Confidently, he wore a politician’s smile, as his slicked-hair and freshly tailored riding suit held taut against his athletic frame. While he looked more suited to review a court case than fight a dragon, the master of all things electric had never felt more lethal.

Good to meet the meat shields, I suppose.

It was a fairly barren space, and even with the enormous Attila beneath him, the tall, lithe magician felt every step beneath him as a clunking, false-footed mess of a mountain. Small stones would slide and skip, and the soft rain would make the rock-faces even more slippery. Should they find the great Sun-Wing here in the stone steppes, there was nowhere to hide. Worse yet, these fools had started a fire, which naturally wafted up towards the heavens for anyone to see.

Anyone, or anything…

Making himself comfortable amongst the obviously suspicious strangers, Storm filled the bowl of his cherry-wood pipe with a thick pinch of tobacco, lighting the pipe effortlessly with a snap of his fingers. He covered the top of the pipe with his free hand for a moment, screening out the light rain and establishing a good smoke. Smoothly dismounting the great black horse, he strolled about the little campsite, eyeing the perimeter of their space and spotting a few welcome intruders. It was good to see new faces arriving; it seemed highly unlikely to the wizard that he’d be able to kill the dragons without a few sacrificial lambs to distract it.

Ever smiling behind the visage of cordial welcome, he walked toward the little one, his right hand empty and extended.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, but I suspect there won’t be much time for formalities with this fire advertising our position. I suppose it will help bring others here, and hopefully they can arrive and acclimate themselves before that big winged bastard arrives.

“Anyway, I apologize for the rudeness. Storm Veritas.”

His name often elicited a wide array of responses, generally ranging somewhere from anger to fear. While he looked completely ordinary, his misdeeds generally preceded him. Today, he suspected the adventurers had been forewarned of his history, given the interesting set of risks he presented.

A thin tendril of smoke hung in the air before a gust of wind destroyed it. The gust moved down the slope to where John was walking, dissipating the smoke from his cigar in a similar way. John continued to walk forward, his steps crunching on the loose stone of the path. He felt a chill in the air on his head and shoulders not covered by armor, and when the wind picked up the air bared its teeth.

John sucked on the cigar, drawing the rich aroma into his mouth and holding for a moment before exhaling. The fire grew closer as he plodded along, his armored body showing through holes in his ragged tunic and pants, shining a little in the light of a foggy dawn.

The morning looked gray, but the sun’s growing brightness promised to drive off the mist and perhaps warm the mountain peak a little. John called to mind his invitation to this party. A letter had shown up at his house, promising quite a large bounty, as well as specifying the necessity for someone big and tough. John had to smirk a little through his usual stony demeanor; it appeared that he was gaining a little renown, at least renown that wasn’t associated with the massacre in Salvar.

Though as able as John was in combat, he doubted he could bag this particular quarry alone. A dragon, SunWing, had been harassing nearby towns and settlements for quite a while, and the folk in the area finally gathered the money to pay for its extermination. He was to meet his compatriots on this mountain, and then they would presumably make their move on the dragon. He puffed on his cigar again.

John approached the campfire, knowing that the noise he was making would be enough of an introduction. There were three around the small fire, two speaking together while a third walking the perimeter across from where John was entering. They had the confidence and ease of the combat hardened. John had a tendency to scare people who didn’t have that confidence, though they did turn and stare. That was not uncommon at all.

He stepped forward, cracking one of the flagstones under a giant metal foot as he held his hands over the fire, focusing on his hands until the armor receded, like liquid up his arms, thickening the armor on his chest. Now that the armor was gone, John could feel the warmth of the fire on his hands, and it was pleasant. The two were still looking his way. He spoke to them through the cigar in his teeth, knocking a finger against his chest, producing a ring for a second.

“John.”

Rain had begun to fall as he walked up the mountain, and had threatened to snuff his cigar several times in the evening, but the bonfire going in the camp was strong enough to vaporize the light rain before it would threaten his tobacco. He was thankful for that.

That just left the curiosity about their number. John had anticipated at least five, people. Where were the others?

The pair of footsteps walked alongside one another, one short but light, the other slow but long and heavy. Wandering restless over the night and continuing till the break of dawn, he had no intention of waiting, and no intention of being late. This was his payday after all, something worth travelling through the wind and rain, across the malevolent mountain paths and through the dead of night.

The crepuscular horizon before them was the beginning of their performance, and it would be one of such violence, that the entire of Althanas would speak of it for decades to come. Sorian was but an old man, his short grey beard a frail version of its former years, but it was still him. His jaunt into in to wilderness was one of choice, but also one of great thought, he may be old, but he didn't need to fight himself to earn such a trophy.

The payday itself was more of a bonus to him, a way to enjoy his latter days, for all he desired was to seek his revenge on the beast that escaped him all those years ago. The sole survivor he was, the shadow of a great warrior he was not. They had tried all those years ago, to no avail, this time, it was personal.

"I hear voices, and I smell burnt wood. We are here."

The giant behind him walked in silence, not so eager thus far into their journey, but that would change upon greeting their foe. The very stone Sorian carefully walked over, crushed beneath its feet, but even in the brightest of mornings, it barely cast a shadow. This was no giant human, no frost giant of Berevar, once a man, changed and shaped into an immortal form, and by contract, it followed Sorians word.

"Tis journey bores me," it moaned. "I hope your destination makes for greater interest than I have felt so far."

A light smoke plume arose up before them, and a few dark silhouettes of people eclipsing the fires light stood around it. "Here we are Elite, the true start to my, revenge."

Pulling the weathered hood of his old brown cloak off his head, Sorians pace picked up, marching up to the camp with great pride in himself. Even if he himself could not strike the final blow to this great beast, having it slain through another magical creature was enough to avenge his comrades.

He arrived to a sudden stop, the ground appearing to just be greeting one another. His grey tired eyes surveying the men, all sat or stood around the flickering golden flames of the burning camp fire.

"Allow me, to introduce myself and my unusual guest. For my name is Sorian Harper, and what I lack in strength and health, I provide wisdom. Wisdom in that of a familiar, once foe, for a deal most worth your attention."

He bowed his near bald head politely, then grinned with his broad smile. Then, adjusted his pants through his cloak as he gestured into the shadows behind him. The giant skeleton stepped forward, the yellow dirty bones of thousands of years towering before the mercenary men. Waiting in silence, its burning eyes glowed a small light like lanterns in the night. While a large rusty looking sword of epic proportions rested across its shoulders, hilt in one hand, while intertwined with the large rack of cracked and tired skulls tied to its back.

"This gentlemen, is Elite Optic. And I have brought him here, to assist in our endeavour."

Few things rival that of a dragon. It was some time ago now, weeks dripping lazily into months and approaching years, that the plagued dragon had fallen in the Twilight Mountains. Things had happened quickly, too quickly for Talen to reach the mountains in time to take part. He didn’t care so much for heroism, not even the rewards bestowed upon those that had succeeded in taking down the creature. There was only one desire that drove the child onwards, that of adventure and the risk of death.

It was this longing that drove him that day as rain fell upon his small form and the wind cracked an icy whip. It was high in the barren mountains where only fools dared to tread that the group did just that. The others were somewhat more burdened by gravity than the child mage of dark intentions. He moved with unnatural easy through the air. No wings or clear force moved him, just the gentle pull of his own will. While the others that reached the small camp had done so along the narrow rocky trail that etched it's way through the mountainsides: Talen floated up from below.

It was wearing a dark cloak, hugging his frame, that the child dropped to the rocky ground of the camp. Drips from the rain ran down the dark clothing and his face would have carried a broad grin if the cold hadn’t been slowly etching into his bones. It was without much of a care for pleasantries that the walked up next to John and the fire. Talen looked almost comically small against the giant of a man, but if he realised, Talen didn’t show it.

“Bones, Giant,” said Talen, not turning to acknowledge either, “it seems that history repeats sooner than normal.”

Talen didn’t know the others by sight, and he was too far to hear the names earlier. Even if he had, they would probably have done little to jog his memory. Embodying his small form perhaps too much, he simply ignored the others.

Lightning crashed through the sky, piercing into a distant peak with a mighty boom. In a flash of light several boulders began a destructive tumble down the mountainside before hitting a freefall as they plummeted into the chasm below. Silence hung in the air for several moments before a loud crash rang through the air. The wind began to howl, and the rain began to pick up in it’s ferocity as it beat down at the five would be dragon slayers. One question seemed to hang in the mind of each hero.

Where was their quarry?

A loud, aggravated roar echoed out of the chasm as if to answer. Suddenly the sun seemed to rise in the midst of the violent storm as a bright iridescent creature tore into the sky from the crags below. Violent crimson embers trailed behind it its wake and danced in time with beating of the monsters wings.

Sunwing had risen.

It flew in several small circuits around the immediate area before spotting the camp and its denizens. Thinking little of them it simply spat a large fireball in their general direction. A warning shot.

The playmates that Bane had arranged for Shinsou were quite unlike anything the Telgradian had seen before. As the furrowed clouds rolled overhead, continuing to pelt the rocks below with monstrous beads of rain, Shinsou took turns in greeting the collective.

Storm Veritas was the first to arrive. After the man slid down from his mount and shook Shinsou’s hand, the Telgradian afforded the man a simple affirmative nod and ran his eyes over his counterpart’s frame. There was something about this one that exuded power. He dressed in fine clothes and his voice had a tinge of arrogance about it. Storm was pale and very lean, and almost sickly to look at with a first glance, but a longer look revealed a chassis that seemed to be trim and athletic. His long, tangled black hair obscured much of his face.

The most striking thing about this man was his complexion. It was almost lifeless, yet his eyes were glowing and bright, set deep and full of intrigue.

As Storm moved on towards the camp, Shinsou’s eyes followed the motions of a small flock of birds that danced around the morning rain in their mission to find shelter. Every now and then they would climb steeply to meet the frills of the looming clouds, before banking sharply and diving back towards the mountains again. As the flock performed their coup de grace, an upward loop before plummeting into the trees in the valley below them, the Telgradian’s golden eyes clapped onto the next of their band.

A small black dot on the pathway in the horizon congealed into the silhouette of a man. The clunking of metal accompanied the man’s footsteps and Shinsou could soon see the armour responsible for the racket – a pair of gauntlets that just came up to the man’s burly shoulders, and boots that come up to just below the knee. As the man approached the camp, Shinsou could make out more of his features. The man was square-jawed and thickly-built with a face that was matted with a layer of golden stubble, framed by flowing golden hair to match the beard.

The man stepped forward, shattering one of the stones under one of his giant metal foot. He held his hands over the fire, and focused until the gauntlets receded up his arms. Warming his hands, he turned and spoke to Shinsou through the cigar in his teeth, tapping a finger on his chest.

“John.”

Great, Shinsou thought to himself, we have a conversationalist in the group.

The next arrival appeared moments after John. For a moment all was silent as the men that had arrived set about making preparations at the campfire, but then suddenly the tell tale crunching of stones under feet struck up again. Shinsou could hear murmuring now, a heavily distorted voice through the rain talking to someone else, and then a ghoulish reply.

Shinsou froze in place as his next playmate appeared from around the corner.

This, he thought to himself, I had not been expecting.

He took a step backwards as a gargantuan skeleton stepped forward, his weighty feet grinding the gravel beneath them. A colossal frame of stained, yellow bones that looked thousands of years old towered before the Telgradian. It said nothing, but its burning eyes seared through the rain like lanterns in the night. While a large rusty blade rested across its shoulders, the giant hilt grasped in a single bony hand, a large rack of cracked human skulls swung from the creature’s back.

"This gentlemen is Elite Optic, and I have brought him here to assist in our endeavour."

Shinsou was momentarily startled by the man accompanying the beast, who had up until now gone completely un-noticed. The Telgradian shot a glance at the passing Bane, who was completing a further round of sentry duty at the campsite.

There’s something wrong with you, Shinsou mused internally at his bodyguard as he disappeared from view again, there really, really is something not right in your head.

Unknown to Shinsou, another had arrived in the time it had taken for the Telgradian to stop to have a quick chat with Bane on his third loop of the campsite perimeter. Eventually, when Shinsou gazed back at the collective assembled at the camp, he spotted the straggler. What seemed to be a child, swathed in a dark cloak that enveloped his form, drifted down to the rocky ground of the camp from somewhere above and walked up next to John and Elite Optic, who were now gathered round the dying fire. They seemed to exchange words, although Shinsou could not tell what was being said.

Whatever it was, it was short and provoked little response from any of those gathered.

Better get up there now, and get that campfire extinguished.

Suddenly, fork lightning ripped through the murky clouds, accompanied with a stomach-churning clap of thunder. For a moment afterwards there was a short silence, one that seemed suspended in the air for several moments before another loud crash bellowed through the air. A fearsome roar raged out of the chasm of the valley ahead and a winged creature tore into the sky from below. A stream of crimson embers trailed behind it as it darted towards the jagged peaks, and with every powerful beat of the monsters wings a plume of bright sparks would erupt into the moist air in a powerful magnesium flash.

Then, it came, a crude, jagged fireball that churned the air around it with its immense heat. It slammed into the ground near the Telgradian and the impact shook the ground beneath Shinsou, the resulting movement of white hot air almost searing the side of his face.

Shit!

Shinsou began a nightmare sprint back to the campsite whilst those gathered there sat bolt upright. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and off the end of his nose, mixing with the rain that had fallen onto his skin all morning. It took a few seconds for him to take everything in as the terrifying form of Sunwing darted past him overhead; the treacherous stone path back to the camp, the still fresh scent of burning embers from the fireball, and the flickering of the dying campsite.

He needed to get back there.

Now.

It wasn’t until the plan went to hell that Storm realized that the group had apparently established any sort of plan at all. The fiery tearing of tree limbs and explosion of rock shrapnel had assured them all that this would be no sneak attack. They would not work their way up the mountain to meet Sunwing in a cave where he may be controlled or cornered. Instead, they would have to face him here, in open air, with the rain pouring down and no practical cover.

The blast of rock was distant enough to only foretell the coming of the legendary dragon. As the mighty beast flew overhead, he seemed to whistle past the group as it soared low with great speed. Glowing with what seemed to be a yellow-orange color, it brought with it a trail of fire through the air, which was quickly doused into a magic steam by the rainfall. It was a horrible thing, an unimaginable combination of power and velocity that the tall wizard quickly calculated greatly outpowered the small eclectic group.

Holy shit. Didn’t even get a chance to figure out what all these idiots can do. Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

Storm instantly considered blasting the dragon with a bolt of electric rage, but immediately silenced the idea as stupid. The great thing was too far off already, and would probably burn them to smolders from long range if the group tipped their hand too easily.

Attila was spooked; this much was clear. A horse would often see itself as food for a dragon, although in times of battle the great things were rumored to turn their focus to human folks first. With the wet rock and pouring rains, the mighty steed wouldn’t serve much purpose here anyway. Veritas whispered something in the great black horse’s ear before smacking its haunch firmly, sending Attila running low down the mountain to safety. He turned to the group, speaking in a voice that was engaged and confident, if frenetic.

“Let’s get it closer. I can hit it with lightning, but from here it won’t be hard for that big bitch to dodge it. Anyone have an arrow, or spear, or anything they can throw to bring her back?”

He stood and faced the direction the dragon had flown, breathing deeply through his nose, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. A calm laid over him as his heart rate steadied into a measured beat. His hands would normally draw his blade from his hips, but such a weapon would be useless for now.

Looking around, the eyes of his companions told many stories. They came for different reasons; some for money, others for fame. Self-destructive tendencies weren’t all that uncommon about Althanas, particularly not when it came to adventurers. Storm had felt compelled by a draw to action, and knew that dragon’s blood was the fastest way to finance his long-term plans. Based on the initial judgment of the group of vagabonds that had gathered here, he was less confident than ever that things would go swimmingly.

Yep, we’re completely f*cked.

“Stupid rain…” muttered Talen, “I’ll get that bitch close enough for your attack mister lighting hands. The rest of you… do whatever it is you do.”

The child looked into the sky for a moment, blinking as the rain started to fall faster and faster. Draconus was as fickle as always and perhaps the Thayne favored the dragon over their group of ragtag adventurers and rogues. Talen lifted out his arms so his cloak spread out over the ground. He did so for just a moment before pushing them back to his sides and shooting up towards the sky.

A shadow streaked across the youth’s face and left behind a pair of goggles. The rain would at least not bother his eyes as much, but his vision would suffer. Talen pointed a hand up towards the dark clouds above. A burst of light ripped into existence from the end of the wand in his hand. A light, piercing the grey morning and calling the dragon towards him.

On the ground where Talen had launched into the air were three items. The youth’s repeater crossbow and a dozen spare bolts, the giant Boom Boom Maul and a rather plain steel spear. The maul was the most unique of the items, little more physically than a giant hunk of dehlar, it also had within stores of energy able to be released in powerful blasts of force. The weapon was not for the weak of body by any means.

Out of Character:

Check my profile (link in sig) for the descriptions of the items. The hammer I’d suggest being used by John :p

Handshakes, greetings and time was at a low, and the old bearded Sorian knew it would be as much. There was no mistake what was going to happen, no mistake the beast would be aware of their presence long before they were aware of it. Sorian had been here before, and that old memory of his failure and his lost friends, had always reminded him to be aware, to be cautious, to be prepared.

His eyes caught the flicker of a shadow in the skies, lit up by the thunderous lightening as it shook the very air like a volcano shakes the earth. Then, as it disappeared into obscurity, the spark of fire illuminated the clouds, and a mighty fireball raged across the sky before crashing into the mountain side.

Sorian steadied himself as the ground shook at his feet. The massive explosion erupted not far from their position and the red and orange light reached across the floor and into the air as it spread its fiery wings across the earth. The fire was just an extension of itself, he knew it, he could see the dragons silhouette in every flicker of the flame.

This was Sunwing.

Be it a memory or a vision, Sunwing left its impression on everything it touched, and Sorian could see it all. He could see his panic stricken friends, dying and burning, and now he could see his new colleagues, preparing to face off against the very fear that consumed Sorians past.

"Sunwing..."

He blew his warm breath on his cold hands and cupped them by his face, the warmth the fire ball had expelled reminded him how cold he really felt. Yet, as he took in the moment, as he filled with such emotion and familiarity, the giant twelve foot skeleton remained behind him. Unfazed, fearless and somewhat intrigued as it looked up at the sky for their foe.

"This is it, Elite. This is Sunwing, and as I predicted to you, he already knew we were here." He finally began to look around at the others, his trance of memories and excitement broken as he focused on the reality of their situation. "EVERYONE! He missed on purpose, he is toying with us, he is playing but a game with our lives."

His arms waved into the rain, almost fearless, for his trust in the knowledge of Sunwing and his new aid to take it down.

Elite gripped his blade ever tighter, he had not expected such an early introduction from the beast, even if Sorian had been so convinced of it. The realisation that this Dragon could be as intelligent and dangerous as Sorian claimed felt a little more true, but only time would tell. He lifted his blade down off his heavy shoulders and his rack of skulls rattled as the blade bashed past it. The two meter beast of a sword was fresh for battle, its visual rusty state a falsehood to any fool who believed what he saw at face value.

"It begins..."

Bane Stark, who had now stood guard at their campsite on the fringes of the Twilight Mountain for most of the ensuing chaos, shook his head in frustration as Shinsou broke his sprint inside the camp perimeter. The bodyguard’s still, scarred hand gripped around the hilt of his weapon. This time, it was not out of habit alone. Shinsou could see that his navy green ranger’s smock, usually smeared with mud and blood but nothing more, was singed at the edges. Behind his friend, the campsite was a hive of activity as the unusual collective of men bustled about their plans.

“Where the fuck were you, boy?!” Bane roared, his eyes still surveying the sky overhead for any signs of Sunwing.

”Being the camp’s meet and greet, and then I thought I’d pop off to get incinerated,” Shinsou remarked as he wiped a thin layer of soot from his white cuffs, “what’s the situation old timer?”

Bane shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I brought you some friends, so go and talk to them! They sound like they are starting to kick some ideas about so you might want to go and help out!”

Shinsou knew that Bane was right; this was a rare opportunity for him, left to be completely unhindered and unchallenged by his mentor, and it was going to be too good for him to miss.

Bane sighed as the Telgradian left his side. The ranger feared Shinsou had still not grasped the enormity of what the beast Sunwing had done to life in this once beautiful region. For the most part, the Twilight Mountains had ceased to function, with no-one daring to pass through. What few towns remained on this part of the border were now empty husks or looted, and the majority of their citizens were living mostly underground, under the protection of various hidden sanctuaries. There was fear and desolation at every turn.

Shinsou was now calming. His soft, golden eyes swerved through the rain and across the rugged mountain edges not so far away, searching for any sign of the winged terror that had graced them with its presence. He could see Sunwing again in his mind. Its looming form would come for another pass again soon. In its wake, there would be that now familiar stench of burning fumes and seared flesh, the kind that would heave the stomachs of even the steeliest of men. Sunwing would cut through their ragtag party soon enough before turning its attention back to the rest of the area if they did not come up with a plan.

But Shinsou wasn’t worried, even if he should have been.

“Storm,” The Telgradian called out to the person he identified with the most, a man of silent, calm power, much like his own younger days, “…I overheard the child say something about lightning. Do you possess such power?”

The Telgradian asked the question whilst he shook the rain from his own white greatcoat, momentarily ignoring the presence of the child as he distributed his weaponry to the masses. The rainstorm beat at the skin of the Telgradian’s face, droplets shattering into white orbs against his expressionless visage. He raised his hands up to make the rough form of a dragon, and pointed the underneath of the nearside wing, the wing that would they would likely be facing on Sunwing's return pass.

“It doesn’t take a scientist to work out that we will beat Sunwing by grounding it. Will your powers allow you to strike at the skin flaps of the wing, where the hide is weakest? If we can burn a hole through that wing, Sunwing won’t be going anywhere but down. When it's on the ground...”

Shinsou looked over his shoulder to see the various armaments being handed around. One of them was a huge warhammer.

"...We can do the real damage. Even if you weaken the skin to the point of tearing, I can pierce it with my Dark Lance. So, can you, no, will you do it, Storm Veritas?"

Shinsou wiped his brow with a dirty sleeve, smearing a streak of mud across his glistening forehead as he waited for the response. As with the uncertainty of the rains overhead, there was the same uncertainty again about Storm and the others.

John cursed his flightlessness as the dragon made a dive at their group, loosing a ball of fire that exploded on the ground, showering John with rock and water as Talen shot into the sky with a flash, leaving a few pieces of gear behind. The giant looked up, wondering if Talen would be able to carry him up to meet their foe.

He looked down at the maul that Talen had dropped. It was a large thing, made of dehlar. It would be heavy, but that wouldn't keep John from being able to swing it like a normal sword or shield. Though he knew he could not swing it effectively, that any weapon he held not born of his armor was clumsy, he reached out anyway. It was a fine looking weapon, and John would have envied it in his years before his armor. The dragon roared a distance away, now locked with Talen, but John continued to stare at the warhammer, wondering if his idea was possible.

There was only one way to find out.

John's hand clasped the hammer in a viselike grip, giving it a test swing. To his dismay and frustration, it set him off balance and he stumbled forward. He growled at it, now focusing on his armor rather than the maul.

Slowly, his armor began to creep up the shaft of the maul. It resisted, like a dog might resist its master, but obeyed as John exerted his will, and slid up further. The metal slid up from his feet, now stretched as thin as it would go. Eventually, the entire hammer was covered, and John smirked, swinging the hammer.

It sailed through the air like the lightest sword, cleanly and neatly, like he'd never had his infirmity. The smirk spread across his face as he called out to Talen, not in derision, but in excitation. His voice roared across the mountain, John hoped it wasn't lost in the wind and rain.

"Boy! Can you lift me?"

If he could get on that dragon, he could ground it.

Maybe these jackasses aren’t completely useless…

It had seemed like a completely hopeless venture, trying any plan against the mighty dragon. The actions of these strange adventurers steeled him that perhaps an effort would be worthwhile.

The kid appeared to show the promise first. He produced a mighty crossbow, brandishing it with fury and determination that betrayed his appearance. He looked like he was too young to have lain with a woman, but clearly the façade was nothing more than a ruse. The light from the heavens split the clouds a single golden stream upon the youth that certainly would get the attention of mighty Sunwing.

The big skeleton thing looked the most imposing of the group, standing ten feet tall and wielding a sword that looked as long as Storm was tall. Mentally, the wizard made note to steer clear of this walking horror, lest that big slab of iron catch him a glancing blow that would cleave an appendage and likely leave a festering infection behind.

The Telgradian, the thin one, he spoke directly to Storm, requesting a blast of lightning.

“It’s like requesting rabbits to fuck, or geese to shit, kid. It’s sort of what I do. You’ll want to give me a little room.”

There was no response, only a wry smile from the now calmed aristocrat. The rain beat his dress shirt across his body, his sinewy and athletic musculature a surprise to anyone who would typically assume him soft and sugar-fed. The dragon would come at the kid, but he was so big and so fast that Storm couldn’t wait on the big beast to get too close.

If he gets too close, then I’m just as likely to hit the knight, who looks like he’s going to be helpful. Happy this big bitch glows, because I can barely see shit through the mists.

He wouldn’t share his lack of confidence with the group; this wasn’t his first rodeo and a freefall in morale was the last thing they needed. This moment required simple action, and he was all too happy to deliver. Storm leapt high in the air, giving him a better line of sight to the monstrous beast. A white ball of buzzing energy popped from the ether into his hand, exploding forward in an arcing sizzle-BOOM sound that rocketed towards his enemy. The beast was still far ahead of him, and he couldn’t see if his mighty strike had landed.

The clean odor of ozone filled his nostrils as he landed on the hard rock in a splash, waiting for the hopeful howl of a wounded dragon.

The brutal beast had begun to swing around for another volley of attacks when the lightning struck it square in the chest with a loud crack, shearing several large scales and leaving the tender skin beneath exposed. It howled with agony and shot forward with both grace and speed few had ever seen in a creature so large. Behind it a trail of steam and embers danced violently in the wind.

Sunwing was angry.

It ignored the youth in the sky for a moment and turned its attention to the men on the ground, specifically the one who’d just shot him. Its mighty maw parted, and the creature loosed a torrent of fire that could melt stone to lava. Instantly all steam in the path of its attack dissolved into a wall of massive steam. The creature hovered to observe its work, amber eyes scanning for movement. When it became clear the steam would not clear, the fiend dropped from the sky onto the earth and let out a roar.

This was his territory, he would not be bested.

Like a horseshoe thrower landing a ringer, the satisfaction of the whip-crack explosion of Storm’s mighty blast sent a wave of sadistic joy through him. His power was real, it was lethal, and near Godly. His muscles felt stronger, his heart pumped harder, and his eyes saw more clearly as his own legend was justified with the strike. Surely, there was no missing the splash of hard scales that rained down from the chest of the great dragon; the tender spot glowed with the same luminous sheen that its wings did. He had created a great glowing bulls-eye for the group to attack.

And become a delicious looking bulls-eye for that big bitch in return.

Indeed, Sunwing’s counterattack was far more furious; the winged demon turned back and blasted a torrent tunnel of fire directly at the earthbound wizard. The world to the east was covered behind a blanket of steam, which hung from the heavens as a matador teases the great bull. Unfortunately for the party of adventurers, they were not the harmless air that the bull generally charged through, for they were made of meat and bone.

Storm Veritas could concern himself with no such problem, as he jumped hard to his right to avoid the oncoming inferno. He dodged the blast with grace and athleticism, looking back to the stone ground that absorbed the fire. The sheet of rock exploded in great orange embers, shrapnel of fire and brimstone arcing some twenty feet from the strike area. He deflected a single, fist sized stone with his glove, feeling the sizzle of seared leather and just escaping his own end.

Beneath the strike zone, the heat had begun to collect, a molten hemisphere of liquefied ore and earth rising from the ground like a fiery bubble from a child’s toy.

“It’s going to pop, get the f*ck back!!”

He was right, of course, but also too slow. The bubble of fire popped with an impossible intent, firing a spray of the lava-slop towards him. This time, he was a bit slow, and a splash the size of two great hands landed low on his left foot. The process was almost comical as he pushed himself back further, as though some secondary magic was coming from the earth behind it. The pain also took it’s sweet time to manifest, as he felt the leather of his boots burn and then immediately feel as if they were fusing to his skin.

“GET IT OFF!!! KYYYAAAAHHH!”

With his right foot, he kicked hard at the heel of his left boot, knocking it clear and pulling a steak-sized strip of flesh with it. The tearing of his pants – pulling the left pant leg at the knee – seemed reasonably, as the pants had fused to the boot in the horrific ordeal. The falling rain seemed to fall around the wound, as the heat still poured from his foot and lower leg.

Desperately, the infamous Veritas scanned about for any sort of plan. Refuge, rescue, or relief from the pain was needed in the worst sort of way; he wouldn’t be running well on the leg for days to come.

Or ever, if they don’t get you out of the way of this flaming asshole.

Talen had been ignored.

Perhaps a better way of describing it was that the dragon had not had a chance to attack him. In the mind of Talen, the dragon had ignored him. The child's hands tightened around the wand as his arms fell to his side. Not only had the dragon not attached him, it had flown passed him to attack the rest of the group. He flicked the wand out of his hand and a moment into the air it puffed out of existence. The youth’s hands pulled of his cloak, now thoroughly wet from the rain, and let it fall like another drop from the sky. The youth’s hair was a short tangled mess, save that held down by the straps of the goggles wrapped firmly against his head. His arms were bare, slicked wet from the rain and pale white. The sleeveless shirt, what little of it that had stayed frt under the cloak, rapidly darkened with water. The child’s body tensed as he watched the fire wash towards his accidental comrades.

The heat hit him first, even the distance was did not completely stop it. A moment after the warm lick of steam followed. Talen ignored both, his eyes following Sunwing as it landed. The lighting attack had caused a potential chink in the dragon’s armour and in the back of Talen’s mind he knew he should probably target it. Talen ignored that thought.

The youth appeared right in front of the dragon’s giant right eye in a blink. The youth’s face was twisted into a smile as he pointed a finger directly at the large amber orb. No words of bravado, nor pause to gloat from the child. He had jumped out of reality and back close enough he could nearly reach out and touch the creature’s eye. He would not leave this shot to chance. From his finger materialised dark energy crystalised into shards of obsidian. They blasted out in a cone towards Sunwing’s eye. The shards themselves were not enough to do long term damage to the dragon’s sight, but Talen had put extra ingredients into ensure this time he wasn’t ignored. The first was poison, dragged from the corpses of Madison Freebird’s victims, was infused into each one. Poison that would decay flesh on a cellular level and cause intense agony. The second was raw energy. The crystals would explode on impact, shattering their forms into dozens of razor sharp, poison syringes. The force of the attack itself was enough to disintegrate a door like it was nothing. The poison was there to make sure the attack was permanent.

I’ll take that eye. Then I’ll take the other. Your life will be mine dragon.

Quote:

---

This will have to do. Sorry guys, bad times.

---

Sorian watched in amazement, the pure power of Sunwing, the intense fire and heat, the speed and agility of such a creature was beyond that of anything he had ever seen.

It felt so nostalgic, so familiar, and as frightening as it was, he would not fear it again. Caution was not fear, caution was being smart.

The rest were a futile bunch, what did it really matter what happened to them as long as the dragon was destroyed.

"Elite!" He called out, his voice now louder and boarder than ever. "He is coming down, he is landing before us! Destroy it! Kill Sunwing!"

Elite gripped his sword tightly. He had been ignored, being a skeleton it was entirely possible he didn't appear to be a foe. Yet he was here to do a job, so where the dragon would see it or not, it would certainly feel it. It was always a mistake to under estimate your opponent, and if the beast had never considered Sorian worth remembering, Elite would ensure that he would remember him now.

"This will be interesting." Elite muttered as he held his sword out wide.

The dragon seemingly distracted by the others, he could approach like a shadow if he wished. Yet that was never his style, and he would enjoy releasing his pure rage and power upon such a creature. He sprinted forward into a powerful charge, his two meter long machete style sword out wide and prepared for a deadly attack.

The dragons wings held out wide, it would take again at any moment, this could be the only attack Elite could have if he wasn't quick enough.

Moving into view, Elite swung his sword in one almighty attack as he dashed towards the dragons right wing. If he could clip it, chop it, snap it. He could keep this battle on the ground, the only place he had any chance of winning.

Shinsou watched on with awe as Storm Veritas unleashed a lethal bolt of lightning at the mighty, looming form of Sunwing. The satisfaction in Storm’s countenance as the mighty strike sheared away a patch of its rock-solid hide was as good as, if not better than, verification that a window of opportunity had arisen for the former Telgradian Golden King and his entourage. There was no mistaking the pelting of those hard scales that fell from the chest of the now-enraged dragon against the unforgiving terrain surrounding them and now the exposed spot glowed with the same raging light that its wings did.

Buoyed by the success of Storm’s initial assault, and needing no further motivation to make his move, Shinsou started his counterattack. The plan was to get his Dark Lance right into that fiery flesh and cause as much damage as possible to this formidable flying beast. As his feet began to pound the gravel path below him, the winged fury roared back towards their position with a bonechilling howl. Within seconds of the blood-curdling battle cry, the mighty Sunwing blasted a funnel of terrifyingly powerful flame directly at the Telgradian and Storm.

Fuck!

Storm Veritas leapt hard to his right to avoid the oncoming inferno, whereas Shinsou parted ways to the left, throwing himself to the floor. Whereas the slick, sleek Storm evaded the blast with a certain flair and athleticism, Shinsou rolled awkwardly onto his side and recoiled as an agonising pain shot up from his sciatic nerve where a piece of scorched, jagged stone had struck his back like a bullet. The nearby sheet of rock that took the brunt of Sunwing’s attack had exploded into dangerous, white hot fragments that scattered at great velocity twenty or thirty feet from the epicentre and now one was lodged in Shinsou’s spine.

ARGH!

The pain was simply agonising, but Shinsou had other problems. Beneath the area of impact, a molten dome rose from the ground and burst, spraying the area with a veritable mist of magma.

With nothing but pure will to survive driving his motor functions, Shinsou dug his left foot into the ground and kicked hard, almost passing out from the pain cause by the shrapnel lodged near the base of his spine, and the hellish lava storm that had threatened to consume him missed his bare flesh by mere millimetres

As he looked up, grinding his teeth to get him through the pain, Shinsou could see the form of the child near the head of the now grounded Sunwing. His cloaked, young body shimmered in the heat that rose from the devastation Sunwing had rained down upon them, and then jolted forward to attack the mighty dragon’s eye. Suddenly, through the flames, something else also joined the fray, sprinting from the left. Behind the smoke, the mysterious figure congealed into a form, a silhouette of a skeleton with brilliant red eyes, stained bones and the cold, brutal expression of a predator. It took a mighty swing of its rusting cleaver, aiming for Sunwing’s idle right wing.

The dragon, which was either distressed by the sudden counterattacking onslaught or from taking further wounds that Shinsou hadn’t witnessed, reared its head in rage. By doing so, that glowing wound was fully exposed, not twenty feet away from the Telgradian.

Seek not beauty in battle. Seek not beauty in death. Consider not your own life. If you wish to re-gain that which was lost to you, then strike while your opponent's back is turned.

The words of his mentor, Telos Soltair of the Council of Five, raced through his mind. Shinsou knew that if this behemoth that had tried to incinerate him moments ago was allowed further opportunity, there was no hope for any of them.

There was no time to waste.

Fighting the waves of pain pulsing up his spine and into his brain, Shinsou rolled onto his front and rose his right palm level with the horizon and outstretched his fingers, closing his eyes whilst he focused his power into his arm. Immediately, a thin streak of dark energy snapped into existence and expanded rapidly, forming a solid conical shape. Tendrils of purple electricity entwined round the Dark Lance and spiralled up Shinsou’s right arm, stinging his bare, singed flesh. With Sunwing’s wound in clear sight, and with the mighty beast of flame distracted, Shinsou suddenly jerked forward and put the full force of his strength behind the Dark Lance. He watched through tears of agony as the projectile left his grip and tore towards the glowing chasm in the armour like hide of the monolithic creature.

This was his last chance to pierce the heart of Sunwing.

A sea of lava and steam separated John from his quarry, the haze of shimmering heat and steam obscuring the dragon's form slightly.

He needed to get there, make sure the dragon didn't rise again.

He looked down at the lava. He could sprint around, and get there late, or he could run through it, and get there early.

The half-giant steeled his mind against what he was about to do and concentrated on his armor, feeling himself rise an inch or two as the metal thickened around his feet, and came off the maul that Talen had proffered. He jumped twice, then set off in a dead sprint directly at Sunwing. Two steps in, and the armor began to grow hot. Three steps in, and the magic of the gauntlets began to work against the heat, keeping John from burning as the armor grew red-hot. By the sixth, his feet were growing hot and he finally leapt from the lava on to solid ground, refusing to break his stride as he concentrated on his armor again, barely catching the sight of Elite rushing as well. His armor snaked up from his boots in rivulets up his legs, the half giant realizing too late that the armor was lava-hot. It burned his mind with pain, but he refused to yield to it as it moved up his torso and through his arms, coating the maul in red-hot fury. He screamed, in pain and rage alike as his shirt began to catch flame, reacting to the heat that flowed across his body moments before; but all of this was secondary.

John was going to hit Sunwing, and by the gods it was going to hurt.

He leaped mightily, continuing his scream as he swung the maul down at Sunwing, unknowingly activating the magic within his weapon.

The summary of events that would follow the Dragons latest attack would be the subject of legends in the local area for the next few decades. The mighty Sunwing, in all of its pride, had ignored one of its foes and paid the ultimate price. The shadow magic tore through its massive eye like icemold through papers, sending loose a torrent of acidic blood to rain down upon the ground just as torrentially as the rain a round them. The beast reared back and let out a howl only to be barraged with several more attacks. John Cromwell delivered a massive blow that would shatter the creatures skull into tiny fragments, sending it face first into the dirt.

The Skeleton, with a single chop, nearly tore half the creatures wing off. Lastly the spear of dark energy struck true, piercing the exposed flesh of the dragon and driving itself home into the creatures heart.

Sunwing attempted to howl as it thrashed backwards, flapping vainly with its torn wing to gain some momentum away from its foes. All that came out was a gurgling scream of terror. Blood gushed like a fountain from this creature as it thrashed about and sank to the ground. In its death throes it attempted to belch out one last burst of fire, but it caught in the beast's shattered maw and began to slowly immolate the creature.

The menace was dead.

The others had not bothered to help the downed wizard with his lava-splashed leg, but did him one better as they felled the mighty dragon. A rippling blast of shadow magic, and several mighty, heavy swords and another explosion of sorts tore the great winged thing down into a horrific, acidic crash of blood and gore.

Well, that’s another way to go about it.

The pain in his lower leg seemed instantly more distant as Storm recognized that his compromised speed wouldn’t likely cost him his life this day. He cut away at the pant-leg, pushing off the leg with his dagger as he cleared the charred cloth. It was agonizing, and tore with it a fair bit of flesh. There was red, bubbled skin and some meat exposed, and the searing pain left him a bit light-headed.

Ugh, God… shiiiiiit.

Defying this dazzling pain, he was safe. That is, unless one of the adventurers turned on him, looking to split the bounty amongst fewer folk. His eyes moved rapidly about, scanning for any fast-movers or surreptitious types. Learning he had not been betrayed, he pulled forward to stand. It was a pleasant surprise that he could walk with a considerable limp, and that he didn’t feel the fire shoot up his leg as he expected.

He managed to walk to the beast known as Sunwing within a few steps, and used his knife with the precision of a master chef. Driving the blade thinly against the flat of the skull, he twisted and tore in a few brief strokes before removing the large horn which previously stood off the left temple of the monster’s massive head. The right horn remained; he’d let the others fight for that scrap.

Got it. Eyes up. Look strong. Get the hell out of here.

To his amazement, Storm heard the beautiful, rhythmic clip-clop which was simply unmistakable. The mighty Attila had returned, bold and strong and powerful. Quickly securing his new prize in the satchel under his shoulder, Storm Veritas hob-handed the pommel of the saddle and pounced effortlessly atop the great ebony beast from his strong right foot. In a breeze, he was safe, secure, and mobile.

“Thank you, gentlemen, and well done…” His address to the group started at the boy, but there were others. The giant man had swung his hammer sword, and the other man reminded him a bit of himself in more idealistic times. Had he come here for glory? Licking his teeth to clear the blood away, the experienced wizard wouldn’t be surprised by any motivation.

And that big, bony bastard…

Truth be told, Storm hadn’t figured out exactly what the hell to do with the enormous skeleton. He appeared to be some sort of puppet, perhaps controlled remotely. Either way, the wounded magician wouldn’t stick around to find out. He was too weak, despite his proud façade, and needed to re-engage in an establishment where he’d be less vulnerable. Preferably, it would be a place with sterile bandages. Undoubtedly, it would also be stocked with plenty of cheap whiskey.

“Take what you’d like; I’m heading to town to square up.”

It was an invitation without formality, and an exit without grandiosity. In seconds, the hoofbeat picked up speed as Attila thundered down the mountain, his master hanging on desperately as he held back tears of agony.

“Eh?”

Talen kicked the dragon’s nose in disgust as his soon to be ex-comrades took in the fact they had won. The youth rested his foot against the scaled snout and turned to look at the first of their company to depart.

“Yeah, yeah, go get the reward.”

The youth turned back to Sunwing and gripped the edge of it’s mouth, flecked with oozing blood and eye juice and pulled the mouth open. Rows of sharp teeth, mostly white, but tinged with the brown that comes with age. A thick red tongue sat limp between the deadly spikes and the young boy’s eyes flashed with glee.

“Oi! John, get over here with a sword. I’m going to get a chef in town to make me dragon tongue burgers!”

Shinsou was barely conscious on the floor and the world around him seemed to be blurring into a sickly haze, like an oil painting ruined by a water spillage. He watched through the distortion of rising heat as Sunwing thrashed around backwards in its final moments, flapping with its torn wing to try and escape its foes. It was then that Shinsou’s Dark Lance had delivered the mortal blow straight to its heart, and now blood gushed from this demonic creature in mighty red torrents. It tried to attempt one last attack, but Sunwing could no longer draw the energy to even open its gargantuan mouth and the flames it spewed crashed into its own sealed mouth.

Shinsou’s lower back ached where the smouldering shrapnel had struck him earlier and his joints throbbed where he had impacted the hard gravel floor. Blood forked down his back from his wound in crimson torrents, dripping down his legs. The salty taste of scorched earth and sweat upon his lips was an unfamiliar one that stunned him momentarily – there weren’t many people who had caused the mighty Shinsou Vaan Osiris to exert such effort – but after a few moments, his mind snapped back to reality. His party were busy scavenging the beast for anything valuable whilst the Telgradian lay exhausted.

He watched as Storm Veritas limped up to the fallen dragon and used his knife like a professional poacher, thrusting the blade thinly against the flat of the beast’s cranium before removing one of its horns. His pant-leg had been torn off, and it was only then that Shinsou could see the wizard’s agonizing wound. It was scorched red, bubbled with puss and exposed.

Fucking hell. You deserve that horn, pal. Take it and get out of here.

Shinsou hadn’t had time nor opportunity to think upon what to do next. Storm had just left, and he had barely even conversed with the others. Either way, the Telgradian decided that, like Storm, he wouldn’t hang about. He was in a bit of a state, despite his stoic expression, and needed to get some medical attention for his back. Flicking strands of brown, matted hair out of his face, Shinsou looked up to survey the carnage before him. As he did so, he caught sight of a charred looking Bane slumped against a rock on the mountainside, lay prostrate amongst the debris of one of the many of Sunwing’s attacks. A pair of wincing, dark eyes looked back toward him, the glowing bruises above his cheeks visible even in the dim glow that fought through the thick rain clouds outside. His features were gaunt and frail, almost as if something had leeched the life from his body, and his chest rose and fell harshly as the man’s lungs tried to work through the pain of his injuries.

“What you looking at, boy? I’m fine. Had worse before…anyway, you heard Veritas. Let’s get out of here and get our bounty.”

Shinsou managed a chuckle and, slowly, pushed himself onto all fours. His breath was laboured to the point of almost choking and his strength felt sapped from Sunwing’s repeated assaults, but eventually the Telgradian staggered to his feet, swaying like a rubber man before eventually steadying himself. His first steps were slow and small. He looked down to his right hand to see Enpera still somehow locked in his bloodstained grip, and began to amble away from the dragon’s plundered carcass.

Elite optic stood almost proud before the mighty corpse of Sunwing. Such a large creature, so dangerous and powerful, and yet now, no more dangerous than the breeze that wrapped around his cold yellow stained bones.

His emotionless, faceless skull peered down on the smashed skull of the dragon, now lifeless and incomplete. This had been so quick, so simple and easy, it was hard to imagine what was so fearsome about it in the first place. Though, when you are already one of the dead, nothing evoked fear anymore. Not beating heart or anxious mind or which to worry, no fleeting feet that remained ready to run at the first glance of danger. Elite Optic in many ways, was the perfect mindset for a warrior.

Sorian watched for a moment from behind. The spread of spraying blood and the collapsing corpse of the beast of his nightmares and past was too much to take in. He felt his hands shaking, his heart racing, his mind scared of the truth that now lay before him. He crept over, a certain fear that it might just get back up one more time washed over his mind, but not even a flinch came from the dead Sunwing. The fearsome face that haunted his dreams, now smashed and crushed into something unfamiliar. Yet as he stood over it, he couldn't push himself to touch it.

He looked around, the group dispersed and leaving, a job well done. Was this all too easy? Was it all a lie and a second coming was awaiting them? Sorian wasn't sure about it, but he was old enough, he was experienced enough to know life had so many more twists that than of what was always presented before them.

"You're friends are, avenged." Elite Optic muttered with the deep rough voice that echoed out of his skull.

Sorian moved up close, the mighty teeth still as large and larger than his own head. Blood staining down the teeth before dripping onto the scorched earth below. He reached out, his fingers trembling before finally resting against one of the large teeth. He had always wanted to touch Sunwing, it was the final act that showed he had won, but even that still scared him inside.

"Yes Elite. My friends are finally avenged." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes he gave but a moments silence to honour their memories and their past. He had said so much on the build up, and now he had so little to say.

That eerie silence emphasized the cold and the smell of death that filled his lungs. The burnt earth behind him had faded already, the stench of Sunwing overwhelming the area, but it pleased Sorian more than anything had pleased him in years.

The heavy footsteps of the giant skeleton began walked away behind him, but Sorian remained in thought, at least for a moment. There was nothing else to see, but the thick scaled dead body that he had witnessed many times before. He expected more now he was up close, and while it was as mighty as it could be, monolithic and frightening, it was nothing new.

Sorian had achieved his goal, achieved his lifelong dream, and apart from admiring the moment, it was over faster than he had ever imagined. The disappointing feeling was hard to accept, it ruined the moment for him, but at least now, he could call himself the victor.

Tears of the Sun Judgement
Judgement Type: Condensed
Participants:

Shinsou Vaan Osiris
Storm Veritas
Hysteria
Elite Optic
Cards of Fate (posts do not contribute to score)
redford

Plot – 13/30

This was a straightforward battle. It felt a bit short for the epic leadup, but that wasn’t in the player’s control so I didn’t dock points for it. I would have liked to see more fight from Sunwing.

Two things that could have really helped your score here that I did see a little of and I liked was weaving your personal stories in more, and control of the setting. You guys painted me a beautiful picture and the setting was very lush in most of the posts, though sometimes to the point of excess. Shin, at one point you had an entire paragraph about birds in the sky and not only did it take away from what was going on at the moment, you never doubled back on that to turn it into a metaphor or a plot device and that made it all the more jarring. It would have been kind of amazing to have the groups of birds come into play, and in a longer thread you would have had more opportunities to do so.

Also, Storm, that lava bubble. A+. Secondary consequences to attacks are always golden in my book.

I liked how Elite Optic brought in his NPC’s past to Sunwing. It made it personal, and it made me really care. Damn, this dude is doing it for FRIENDSHIP so go skeleton punch go! It also helped give me more insight into that NPC, which ended up boosting your character score below.

The biggest thing here was with re-writing. This is when you go back and summarize past posts before adding your own content. Sometimes this is completely necessary when you have a lot of characters in the thread, but it can very easily be brutally harmful to your reader’s interest. Here it really destroyed your pacing.

My rule of thumb for threads with just a couple of characters is to minimize re-write as much as possible and aim for 0, but in big threads like this to do no more than 20% of the post. 80% or more of your post should be new content.

Shinsou, if you look at your post right after Cards posted for the first time, it’s mostly going back and talking about the introductions and then the very last part addresses the attack that just happened. Doing this completely derails the rising action that got established with the beginning of combat. It became more problematic later in the thread when I read something about the first attack after three posts or so launching a counter attack.

There were times I had to stop and ask myself if the fireball that was being talked about was the first warning shot or the lava bubble or, well, what? Your writing styles were all clear enough that I sorted it out quickly, but it still paused my reading experience.

Character - 20/30

Even in a short thread, there are ways to really give your reader a sense of who your character is. Most of the group felt pretty generic. Storm came off incredible strong, a testament to Bob’s handle on everyone’s favorite douche that with the first post and all five posts, the writing just oozed Storm.

Elite, I really liked how you gave me a sense of the old wizard, but I would have liked to see more about Elite. What a name, for starters. Now give me more.

The ending with everyone not really interacting and just peacing out ended the thread on kind of a “meh” note, and red’s lack of conclusion was noticeably lacking. Even with the abrupt death of the dragon, I feel that you guys could have pulled this out just a little longer to really make it spectacular. Maybe have the group try and devise a way to drag the corpse to town? Work on immediate first aide for Storm so he doesn’t go into shock (STATIC SHOCK HAHAHAHA)?

Prose – 24/30

There were some grammar problems, mostly with comma usage. However, most of you have a really solid writing foundation. There were several posts with little to no real technique, which fell flat amongst the more technically interesting posts.

Wildcard – 8/10

I did really like this thread and the ending makes me hopeful that maybe we haven’t seen the end of Sunwing’s flock. I look forward to seeing you all in future Boss Battles and hope that you can use this experience and craft an epic battle next time.

Total – 65

Shinsou Vaan Osiris gains 583 EXP and 65 GP
Storm Veritas gains 973 EXP and 65 GP
Hysteria gains 797 EXP and 52 GP
Elite Optic gains 436 EXP and 52 GP
Cards of Fate gains 442 EXP and 39 GP
redford gains 390 EXP and 39 GP

All EXP and GP have been added, and AP was removed.