Attack on Silvanost - Part 4

01 Newkolt 349 AC

With the second red dragon slain in the street, Kysek whispers, "Μύγα," and takes to the air and seeks out what will become the next victim of his plan. The elf thinks to himself, ‘The red may have been able to avoid it; the ones in the air have little chance.” As he begins to ready his spell, he notices the flight of green dragons rapidly making their return.

“Good boy, Spewer! Now, get back here.” Shadow drops below and slightly behind the dragon, launching an attack while its rider screams in agony. His flying purple claymore slashes at the dragon's belly. The blade penetrates deeply into the dragon's armpit, sinking deeply enough to nick the wyrm's heart. An ear-splitting roar erupts from the beast’s throat, shattering windows and sending glass raining into the street below.

The dark elf swoops in, Swiftwind at the ready, and launches a flurry of blows. The first stab plunges into the wound left by the flying, purple sword, tearing it open even further. His second strike skitters along errant scales while his third leaves a shallow slash along one of the dragon's hind feet.

Spewer, hearing his master's call exults in the praise bestowed upon him, turns to race toward the dragon's tail but not before loosing a second glob of acidic spittle, this one directed at the leather strap holding the rider’s saddle. The caustic fluid spatters against the harness, eating through the pliable material, causing it to give way, spilling the rider from the dragon's back and sending him to the ground some fifty feet below where he is set upon by furious elves who beat him with fallen timbers until nothing but a bloody pulp remains.

Spewer leaps from the flying reptile, plunging through the air to land on Shadow's back, a gleeful smile plain upon his face.

Shadow's air elemental continues to batter and buffet the second dark rider but the beast quickly outpaces its pursuer and banks west, flying out over the city wall.

Shadow turns, and upon seeing the approaching Greens thinks of Cassidy and the others who have died today or been grievously injured. He salutes with his rapier and prepares to meet them head on.

As the second red dragon falls, Raven sheathes his swords and draws his bow once more. He looks up and is forced to cover his face as glass falls all around him. He grabs hisast two ice arrows and takes aim at the blue dragon Shadow is fighting. Both arrows fly true and strike the dragon in its belly but neither has the same effect that his earlier shots had on the first red. He curses, slides the bow into his quiver and runs into one of the buildings that is still standing begins racing up the stairs.

Ra’ziir rises in the air, speaking seemingly to himself or an unseen audience, or maybe those within earshot.. it’s difficult for any witnessing it to tell.

“What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate. Some in power you just can’t reach, so you get what we have here today, which is the way she wants it. Well, she gets it. I don’t like this anymore than you all…”

The Black-robed elf, Grumbar’s Razor still in hand, calls on his Song of Celerity and tiny bead of fire toward the two Blue Dragons that just attacked him. The words of magic quickened by his mastery of the Bladesong as the fireball races toward the Blues. The bead detonates with a dull roar, expanding into a forty-foot sphere of flame. The first dragon is caught at the periphery of the spell and avoids serious harm but the second, the one wounded by Shadow, is fully engulfed and emerges shrieking from the flames. It beats its powerful wings, clearly pained, and turns left, following its companion toward the city wall.

The eldritch knight then turns his gaze to the incoming flight of Greens and takes a page from one of the other spell-casters playbook and incants a spell that will siphon much of the water from the beasts' bodies. The first wyrm is hard hit by the spell and a great cloud of water vapor forms, seeping out from in between the massive reptile's scales. The second brute avoids most of the effect but both focus their attention on the floating bladesinger.

The blue dragons roar and race away from the party, their goal being to spread damage over as wide an area as possible, not directly engage in battle against well-armed and magically proficient foes. The rider on the first dragon cries out, "My Dark Queen, "Cmefi cessois!"

A dizzying array of twirling metal blades appear in midair, creating a wall of spinning swords to deter the party's pursuit.

Cedron looks over Romulus. “Better, but not great. Let’s see if we can get you a bit more spry before I move on to the others.” He pulls another scroll from his cloak and repeats the casting. Again, an irreplaceable scroll burns and healing energy flows into the archmage.

Romulus flashes a grin at Cedron and nods. He then raises his staff and unleashes a fireball from it at the fleeing blue dragons. The ensuing explosion engulfs both dragons but both manage to clear the wall and escape into the night.

Arthur pushes through the haze, coughing, soot and sweat streaked across his face. He grasps Grotto’s arm before either of them can step further into the unstable ruins. His voice is rough but steady.

“Grotto… we can’t stay here. This whole place could come down any second. She is straining just to keep the beams from crushing everything beneath them. We have to get out—now.”

He glances around at the streets beyond, smoke curling through the shattered windows. “The wounded are out there, scattered and helpless. That’s where we’re needed, not trapped under falling rubble. Come with me—we save them first, and then we come back if we can.”

Arthur’s hand tightens briefly on Grotto’s shoulder, not commanding, but grounding him. “Together. Let’s get them clear."

Paladin and dwarf carry Lorraine clear of her collapsed house. Once they are clear, Ag'nesallynn drops the wall. Her form blurs and within moments, a young elven girl stands in her place.

Grotto is shaken out of his shock by Arthur. Anger and sadness consume his thinking of his peers and pupils in the healing house. "All those I have befriended and trained! They were healers, not warriors! All dead in the rubble!?!" Grotto says choking back tears. "Let us help the living, but we will be back. I can't have my pupils suffer in the rubble any longer. I'll help you clear the streets. Help me triage the wounded. Sacrifices will be made for the nearly dead to lay where they are. We must tend to those who have a chance to be saved! I told the healers to make sure every home and shop was distributed first aid supplies. We can only do so much the old fashioned way, but we will do what we can! We should have no problem finding bandages, salves, and medicine. For those nearly dead, i will give them an extra dose of my alchemical wares to ease their passing. Let's hurry!"

The two green dragons, seemingly set on a course that would carry them straight into Ra'ziir, pivot and drop down several dozen feet and open their claws wide. They smash the roof of the building Raven ran into. The building sways momentarily before collapsing in on itself burying Raven within.