The Battle for Tarithnesti (Part 8)

07 Deepkolt 349 AC

EN ROUTE TO TARITHNESTI

Kysek continues his assault on the verdant dragon. He squeezes the hand controlling the conjured fist with all his might and twists in a clockwise motion. The dragon manages to grab one of the hand's fingers and pries them backwards, breaking the hand's grip.

In response, Kysek flicks his wrist and sends the conjured blade into a graceful sweep around the dragon. The magical blade slips beneath the dragon's chest, tracing a crimson line across the scales covering its belly.

Raven dives back in to the fray. Nightwatcher dances across the dragon's back. The Netherese sword splits scales in a shower of emerald fragments. A second slash crosses the first. The third cut swing bites into the base of the dragon's wing where it joins the shoulder. The blade cleaves through the massive joint, severing muscle, tendon, and bone in one terrible stroke.

The wyrm tumbles through the canopy, smashing through ancient branches that shatter beneath its weight. Trees explode into splinters. The dragon disappears into the forest with a deafening crash that shakes the ground beneath Kysek's feet.

Raven hangs suspended in the air, breathing heavily, his shoulders sagging as exhaustion from the day's battles take their toll. He thinks along the mindlink he shares with Ra’ziir. "Engaged second green dragon and rider with Kysek. Both enemies confirmed dead."

ALSO EN ROUTE TO TARITHNESTI (from the second farmhouse)

The journey back to Tarithnesti continues at a steady pace. The formation remains disciplined. Four scouts range ahead, moving from tree to tree, watching the trail and the skies. Four more bring up the rear.
Two remain close to their prisoner.

After several minutes, Garrick breaks the silence. "I assume I'll be questioned."

Romulus nods. "I'd be surprised if you weren't."

"And imprisoned." The captain adds.

The archmage's reply is calm, "Almost certainly."

The captain accepts that with a slight inclination of his head. "I won't betray my oath."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Romulus says in turn.

The officer turns his head and looks at the halfling.

Romulus shrugs, "You surrendered because I convinced you your duty was to survive. If you abandoned your comrades at the first interrogation... then I'd have been wrong about you."

AT THE CRYSTAL QUARRY

The last of the refugees gather at the mouth of the mine's secret exit. Grotto grabs Cor, Jensolyn, Vaelin, and two other defenders.

"Come with me. Let's cave in a bit more of the tunnel before moving on. Don't want any surprises."

Cor nods in agreement.

The small party retraces its steps toward the main entrance. Grotto studies the remaining timber supports, judging which ones still bear the weight of the ceiling.

"There." His axe bites into the first support. Then a second and a third. The timbers groan.

Stone shifts overhead.

Grotto backs away. The scouts move in, rigging tripwires connected to the weakened supports.

Cor studies the blockage and gives an approving nod. "If anyone follows us now, they're in for a nasty surprise."

They make their way back to the others. On the dwarf's signal, Vaelin leads a team of archers out of the mine to scout for enemy troops. After a thorough search, they regroup, having found nothing. There's no draconians or dragons or ambush waiting to pounce on the refugees when they emerge.

"Come with me, Mr. LeanBeef. We'll take the point."

Cassidy throws both hands into the air.
"Lean Beef? Really?"

Grotto's beard twitches with amusement.

The kender sighs dramatically. "I spend years cultivating my reputation as a renowned bard, and somehow I've become livestock."

Grotto laughs, the sound carrying warmly through the nervous column. "Come on, Mr. LeanBeef."

The kender shakes his head, unable to suppress a reluctant grin as he hurries after the dwarf.

Grotto raises his axe and points toward Tarithnesti. "To the refuge of the city."

RA'ZIIR'S SQUAD (ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF TARITHNESTI)

“Have your vengeance, Redclaw!” Ra’ziir shouts as he guides the griffon into an all-out assault, encouraging the noble beast to attack the Wyrm with all he has.

Redclaw rolls over in mid-air and flares his wings, allowing the dragon to overtake him. A quick burst of speed places the griffon upside down beneath the wyrm. Redclaw lashes out with beak and talons, striking the dragon with all the fury of a beast that remembers every wound inflicted upon it. The dragon's scales prove to be too thick and, for all of his rage, the griffon leaves only shallow scratches on the beast's chest. 

At the same instant, Ra'ziir becomes a blinding flurry of motion. Volcanic smoke pours from Grumbar's Razor, wrapping rider and griffon in a swirling cloak of ash and cinders. The obsidian blade sings. Each slash opens a deep wound, blood flows freely. As the ground rises to meet them, Ra'ziir pulls hard on the reins, “Climb, Redclaw! Keep the beast below us if you can! Let’s finish this!”

Once again, the griffon’s wings spread wide, catching air, halting their descent. A string of arcane syllables pour from the bladesinger's lips.

Brilliant darts of force erupt from the fingertips of his free hand. They weave around the dragon's frantic evasive maneuvers with supernatural precision, slamming into a shoulder, against its neck and chest. The last two strike the side of the dragon's face. Its head rolls back, the creature momentarily dazed from the rapid, relentless assault. That moment stretches out seemingly forever. By the time the dragon recovers its wits, it slams into the ground at full speed, crushing a pair of houses on impact. It bounces once and crashes down again before slamming into the dock at the base of the Protector's Tower. It lies in a broken heap, unmoving and bleeding out into the near-freezing waters.

Raven's mental voice comes in over the mindlink. "Engaged second green dragon and rider with Kysek. Both enemies confirmed dead. What is your status?"

“Uh… Redclaw and I have our hands full at the moment. Two dragons… well, just one at the moment… but the other one is around here somewhere.”

THE PROTECTOR'S TOWER

The tower groans beneath the dragon's weight. Great emerald claws remain buried in the ancient stone as the wounded wyrm tears away block after block, sending masonry crashing into the streets below. Blood runs from dozens of wounds across its hide, yet its fury seems only to grow.

The beacon flashes again. Its brilliance has become almost blinding. Cedron knows that he needs to buy another six seconds, ten at most, for the crystal to activate.

He raises his holy symbol and shouts, “PROGRESS IS THE WAY!”

A lance of divine brilliance lashes out from the the holy icon. The beam tears across the short distance between priest and dragon.

The emerald wyrm tries to turn its head.

The radiant lance strikes squarely, burning through battered scales already blackened by flame and scored by spinning blades. Smoke pours from the fresh wound as holy light scorches flesh beneath. The dragon recoils with a roar that shakes the tower. It loses its grip for a second and falls, sliding almost twenty feet down the side of the tower before its claws gain a new grip.

Cedron lowers his holy symbol. That was the last prayer he could offer from afar. He raises his Harmonic Blade. The Witching Cloak billows out behind him as he prepares to meet whatever the dragon has to offer.

The dragon snarls, its eyes full of hate, and begins to climb. It scrambles up the side of the tower. As its head clears the lip of the beacon's platform, Cedron strikes, driving his sword into the verdant wyrm's eye. The orb explodes. Jaws snap on the minstrel-priest's arm. Rows of dagger-like teeth close around his sword arm. Then the wyrm jerks its head violently backward. Cedron is ripped off the platform. The cleric is dragged over the edge into open air, suspended eighty feet above the streets of Tarithnesti as the wounded dragon clings desperately to the tower's face.

Shadow sees Cedron disappear over the edge. For the briefest instant, the drow's attention follows his companion. Then the beacon catches his eye. The crystal wobbles.

"Not good."  Magic surges through his boots once more, flooding his limbs with supernatural speed. At the same instant, the circlet upon his brow flares. He doesn't waste the opportunity. Shadow points a finger toward the green dragon clinging to the tower. A crackling lance of blue-white energy erupts from his hand.

The spell tears across the short distance in the blink of an eye. It strikes the dragon squarely in the ribs. Electricity explodes over emerald scales. The dragon roars, releasing Cedron.

The drow doesn't stop to admire his work. He drops from the sky onto the back of the paralyzed white dragon. The beast cannot even turn to face him. Its eye follows him helplessly.

Shadow snarls, "Should've stayed home."

The rapier flashes. The Phoenix-blessed blade pierces the pale scales of the dragon's back. The ice drake shrieks amd bucks, throwing the dark elf off of his back. It turns its long snake-like neck and blasts its attacker with a cone of freezing breath. Caught off guard, Shadow is struck on one side. The dark elf's enchanted devices shield him from the worst of the assault. The pair circle each other warily, having both drawn blood.

BACK WITH KYSEK AND RAVEN

Raven, hearing Ra'ziir's reply, calls out to Kysek. "Tarithnesti is under attack. We must get there quickly."