Attack on Silvanost - Part 2

01 Newkolt 349 AC

Kysek sees the two dragons crash to the ground. He races along the street, silent as death. The carnage surrounding them is unbelievable. All around, he sees splintered kiosks, smashed storefronts with some buildings entirely collapsed into the street mixed with bloody smears of what were once elven revelers just minutes ago celebrating the arrival of the new year.

He crouches behind some rubble, his well practiced fingers plucking the spell components he needs without having to look. He falls into his spellcasting and focuses on the two dragons that are just now getting their feet under them and calls out, "Καταιγίδα πάγου!"

Hailstones begin falling from the sky, pounding the red wyrms with punishing force. Both beasts roar, their anger rattling the few remaining intact windows in their frames.

"Master, look," Spewer's voice cuts through the din of battle, drawing Shadow's attention back to the ground and the fallen kender. The dark elf lands beside his little friend, his drinking buddy, his protégé. He shouts, "ΦΟΡΑ ΣΤΑΣΗ!"

Everything in the world seems to come a halt. In truth, Shadow speeds up so much that everything around appears to be standing still. He crouches beside Cassidy, folding the kender's arms over his still chest. "I am sorry. I knew this war was coming and I allowed you to stay instead of sending you to safety. This is my fault."

He rises to his feet, already in the throes of casting his next spells.

"Καλέστε το τέρας Επτά - Νερό Στοιχειακό."

"Καλέστε το τέρας Επτά - Αέρας Στοιχειακό."

"Ασπίδα."

"του Μόρντενκαϊνεν Σπαθί."

In the near distance, the frozen river cracks and splits open. A massive pillar of water rises, taking on a vaguely humanoid shape and flows toward Shadow. The dark elf commands his elemental to begin putting out the fires burning in the city. The creature gives a gurgled assent before crashing into a nearby shop, dousing flames with its body.

In the sky above, smoke begins to swirl, forming a miniature tornado. Shadow orders his second elemental to engage the dragons with a focus on tearing their riders from their saddles.

His last two spells create a vertical disc of energy in the shape of a tower shield, that floats between him and the enemy and a claymore-sized blade of glowing purple energy force that hovers before him, awaiting his direction.

He looks up at the wyrms, frozen in place overhead and chooses his first victim just before time resumes its normal flow. “His name was Cassidy Greenbean!”

Raven stows his bow and breaks into a sprint. He draws both of his swords as he closes on the nearest of the grounded dragons. He pours all of his strength into his swing, his cry drawing the attention of his prey. The winged reptile turns to face him as he leaps, Nightwatcher and Thorgrim leading the way. The draconic face contorts in confusion as the obviously suicidal elf charges and it swipes at him with massive claws. Raven drops, sliding beneath the attack and strikes.

The adamantite blade plunges deep into the dragon's eye. The orb bursts, showering the elven warrior in gore as his cold iron, cursed sword hews through its snout, splitting its entire cheek wide open and exposing the bone beneath the scales. The dragon reels back, blinded on one side with blood pouring in a torrent from its gaping wound.

Ra’ziir floats above the carnage, his head tilted to one side as if listening to someone. A wry, half-smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. His levels his five-headed talisman toward one of the burning buildings and barks out a single word, "Gsiibi!"

A torrent of snow and ice pours forth, coating the roof and face of a burning building. Steam hisses as it melts into water and runs down the front, extinguishing the flames.

He turns his head and nods slightly.

Agnes grabs a section of fallen wall. She braces herself, even using her tail for support and begins to lift. Slowly, the slab comes off of the ground as the silver dragon crouches to get a shoulder underneath the edge, pushing with her hind legs and calling out for the elves trapped within to start crawling out.

“That was unexpectedly harsh!” Cedton looks over the burns covering his face and hands. His blue cloak, while shielding him from the actual flames trapped the heat inside its protective layer. He surveys his surroundings and takes assessment of his companions. Kyesk, Arthur, Romulus, and Grotto are nowhere to be seen. Shadow and Ra'ziir are both visible floating through the smoke and chaos while Raven is directly battling one of the dragons. Cedron flies downward, landing behind the wall of force tucks his rod away inside the extra-dimensional folds of his cloak and hums an uplifting, energetic tune.

The magic of his song knits his wounds back together, replacing burned flesh with new skin in a matter of moments. He looks around and spots Romulus laying in the front of a partially collapsed storefront.

Arthur stares in shock for the briefest of moments. He doesn't allow his surprise to stop him from pulling a vial of healing elixir from a pouch at his waist. He downs the magical concoction and feels a warm energy spread throughout his body as his wounds begin to mend. Hearing the voices calling out from beneath the rubble, the paladin rushes to help, slipping beneath the slab of wall that Ag'nesallynn has lifted off of the ground. He finds one of Lorraine's nurses and grabs her by the wrist, gently pulling her to freedom before plunging back in to look for more survivors.

Romulus props himself up on a section of fallen rubble. He sees Raven facing off against one of the downed reds and focuses his attention on it. He hisses, "Djeop mohjvpoph - dumf," and points at the thrashing, half-blind beast. The booming retort of thunder echoes down the wide avenue. An actinic bolt of blue lightning lances from his hand and slams into the dragon's missing eye. Bands of corsucating cold race through the monster, freezing it solid before arcing to the other grounded beast's side. Ice forms all along the second dragon's flank, the extreme cold shattering scales and chilling the winged lizard to the bone. Freezing bolts of frigid electricity arc off of the second dragon in search of additional targets but, finding none, dissipate into the air.

Grotto's sprint becomes a stagger as his adrenaline begins to run out. He pitches to one side, his armored body grating against an alley wall. His vision is blurred and smoke stings his eyes. The smell of burnt flesh has him reliving the years spent being tortured by the goblins who once held him prisoner. His hands fumble through the sack of medicinal herbs hanging across his chest. He feels around inside until he finds the two potions of healing pilfered from the body of the winter king. Life pours back into his battered form. As he begins to regain some of his mental cohesion, he reaches down to activate the healing magic stored with his belt buckle and on the necklace of prayer beads hanging around his neck. Magic courses through his body, turning fresh wounds into scabs then scars then whole flesh once again. With his vision cleared and breathing becoming easier, the dwarf takes off at a trot, keeping to side streets and alleys as he starts off toward Lorraine's once more.