Road Trip to the Dragon Isles (Styx - The Governor's Spire)

11 Newkolt 349 AC

Arthur stopped in front of the great wooden doors and looked back at the companions who had followed him through the Spire. "We got this," he assured them.

He placed one hand against the door, "We probably shouldn't be standing in a straight line when I open the door though, just in case."

Bren nodded. "Good thinking. Everybody spread out, give yourselves room to move."

Granite went left with Davaa.

Altan backed a few steps down the stairs. Varkesh went with him.

Kassir and Tarakis went right. Phineas moved to that side as well, switching the Gat-inizer for the Shock N'Awe-atron.

Grumak took a step sideways, his massive wrench held in one hand.

Agnes remained beside Arthur. She glanced up at the ceiling. "Be careful, my knight."

Grumak's voice rumbled across the landing, "Hey... everybody, I hope we win."

Arthur waited until everyone was in place and pushed the door open. The hinges turned smoothly. The door glided open.

Behind was a massive chamber. Its high ceiling was decorated with elaborate plasterwork and gilded moldings. Rich carpets covered the floor, and tall windows looked out over the city and harbor.

Much of the original furniture had been pushed against the walls. A large table occupied the center of the room. It was covered with paperwork and colored markers representing military units.

Five Bozak Draconians guarded the front of the room. Five more stood further back, forming a protective screen around the woman standing beside the table.

She wore dark red and black, with a wicked-looking scourge hanging from her belt. Her expression was composed, almost curious. Her gaze settled on Arthur. Then she smiled, "I suppose you are responsible for the chaos outside."

Above her, there a massive hole in the ceiling. Through the ragged opening, Arthur could see red scales shifting in the shadows.

A low growl rumbled through the chamber.

Rivven raised one hand without looking up, "Patience, Cear."

The growling intensified. "THEY ARE HERE."

"Yes, Cear," Rivven answered calmly, "I can see that." Her eyes remained on Arthur.

"Well, knight? Have you come to negotiate?"

Above her, something enormous scraped its claws across the stone.

"LET ME KILL THEM."

The bozaks tightened their grips on their weapons.

Rivven’s smile never faded. "Or, have you come to die?"

Arthur stepped into the chamber, offering a brief prayer to Malazzarr as he crossed the threshold. "Let’s face it. There is no negotiating here. I've done far too much for you to allow me to live. And you've done too much for us to let you live, especially your dragon."

He glanced up through the hole in the ceiling, the back to Rivven. "Name's Arthur. I'll at least give you the name of who you'll have to face. What do you have to say, Rivven?"

The Highmaster regarded him for several seconds.
"Arthur... Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur..."
She repeated the name as though committing it to memory.

"Well, Arthur, I appreciate the introduction. It's considerably more civilized than what I expected from someone who has apparently murdered his way through my headquarters."

Her gaze drifted toward the open doorway, taking in the figures waiting beyond it. "And brought quite an interesting collection of companions along with him."

Rivven's expression was cold when she looked back at Arthur. "You are correct about one thing. Negotiation is unlikely."

She rested one hand on the table. "But you misunderstand something. You speak as though this is a personal quarrel between us. As though I have wronged you, and you have come to exact some righteous vengeance."

She pointed out the windows overlooking Styx. "This city is a military asset. Its harbor, its roads, its position along the coast. All of them are valuable to the Dragonarmy. I was given command of Styx because I am capable of holding it. The people of Styx, they were offered the opportunity to cooperate. Some accepted. Others made unfortunate decisions."

A deep growl sounded overhead. "THEY ARE MINE."

Rivven's jaw tightened. "Cear."

The enormous red dragon lowered his head through the opening. His horned skull emerged from the darkness, followed by a portion of his thick, muscular neck. Smoke curled from between his teeth. His great yellow eyes fixed upon Arthur. "THIS ONE CHALLENGES US?"

"He does," Rivven replied.

Cear's lips drew back, exposing rows of enormous fangs. "HE IS SMALL."

"Most people are, compared to you."

"I WILL BREAK HIM."

Rivven looked up sharply. "You will wait."

The dragon's eyes narrowed. For a moment, the only sound was the faint crackling of the fireplace. Then Cear slowly withdrew his head, although his rumbling growl continued overhead.

Rivven turned back to Arthur. "My dragon is growing impatient."

Her hand settled on the handle of the scourge hanging at her hip. "You asked what I have to say."

The Highmaster drew the weapon. Its nine barbed tails uncoiled toward the carpet. "Very well. You've come a long way, Arthur. You've caused considerable damage. You've killed soldiers who were under my command, disrupted my city, and made promises to people who have no idea what your victory would actually cost them."

She stepped away from the table. "But you've made one rather serious mistake."

Rivven's eyes flicked toward the opening in the ceiling. "You came to fight a dragon. And you brought everyone you care about into his lair."

The Bozaks remained motionless, awaiting their orders. Above them, Cear's claws scraped against the stone.

Rivven raised Red Mercy slightly. "Now, Arthur, have you anything else to say?"

Arthur gave a little smirk. "I didn't bring anyone here who didn't want to come."

He took another step forward. "We've all accepted our fates, and we're willing to do what we must."

He glanced toward the enormous red dragon watching from above, then returned his attention to Rivven. Arthur raised Lawbringer, pointing the blade directly at the Highmaster. Holy fire flickered along its edge. "Come at me, Rivven. Show me what you can do."

He began advancing toward her.

Rivven's smile widened. "With pleasure."

She lifted her scourge, its nine barbed tails dragging across the carpet.

Phineas shouted out, "ARTHUR! MOVE!"

The knight threw himself sideways. Behind him, Phineas had planted his feet and raised the Shock N'Awe-atron.

The device's complicated assembly of coils, copper fittings, and crystalline components began to glow. A rising electrical whine filled the chamber.

Rivven's expression changed to one of confusion, "What is tha--"

KRA-KA-THHHHOOOOOOOM!

A tremendous blast of crackling magical energy erupted from the weapon, illuminating the entire chamber in brilliant blue-white light.

The discharge tore across the space between Phineas and the Red Dragon Highmaster. The Bozaks recoiled from the sudden flash. Above them, Cear roared.

Phineas, grinning behind his goggles, cackled over the thunderous discharge, "NEGOTIATIONS HAVE CONCLUDED!"

Several seconds passed before anyone knew what was going on.

As the echoes died away and everyone's eyes adjusted, Bren rushed forward, engaging the nearest bozak, slashing it across the chest. His sword comes across a second time but the draconian parries and pushes away from the attack.

Arthur spotted Rivven slumped in a heap against the central lift shaft. She was shaking her head slowly and smoke was rising from her uniform. The magic of his helm carried him across the room in an instant. Lawbringer crashed down on the Dragon Highmaster with lethal finality. Fire and holy radiance consumed the evil mage and she collapsed to the floor, hollowed out from the inside.

The woman who had ruled Styx through fear and brutality was dead.

Altan stood, the upper half of his body clearing the top of the stairs and fired two arrows into the room. The first shot hit one bozak high in the shoulder but the other simply shattered against the draconian's scales.

Phineas let go of the Shock N'Awe-atron. The weapon dropped and was caught by its strap. The inventor yanked the pullstring on the Gat-inizer and aimed it at one of the bozaks in the middle of the room. Four glowing darts streaked through the air and slammed into the reptilian soldier.

Granite surveyed the chamber. Rivven was dead, but the fighting was far from finished. The Bozaks were experienced soldiers, and somewhere above them an enormous red dragon was waiting.

The dwarf raised his warhammer. "Listen up, lads!" His voice carried across the chamber, clear and commanding despite the clash of weapons. "We've fought our way through this bloody tower! We've beaten everything they've thrown at us, and we've just put their Highmaster in the ground! These bastards aren't any different from the ones downstairs! They've got swords, they've got armor, and they only got two legs to stand on! So knock 'em off those legs!"

Agnes looked up. Scales shifted in the shadows above. Claws appeared at the edge of the opening. Agnes raised one hand and spoke a brief incantation in Draconic. A faint shimmer passed over her body as a glowing disk of magical force formed in front of her. She lowered her hand and glanced toward Arthur, who stood beside Rivven's remains. Then her silver eyes returned to the opening overhead.

Tarakis rushed in, Kassir hot on his heels. They both rushed toward the bozak that Phineas has wounded, seeking to overwhelm him before he could join the fight. Swords flashed. The bozak gave ground, parrying and dodging as he retreated.

Varkesh joined Altan. He pulled a javelin from a quiver on his back and hurled it toward one of the front-rank bozaks, but scored little more than a scratch on one leg.

Davaa barreled into the room. He raised Bloodletter high and swung it in a mighty arc. The two-handed blade crashed down, severing the left arm of a bozak. It bled out in a instant. It exploded a moment later, spraying its comrades, Davaa, Kassir, and Tarakis with flaming shards of bone. The two baaz took the brunt of the blast and staggered away, both bleeding from a dozen shallow wounds.

Grumak grabbed the door and pulled it free of its hinges with a CRAAAACK! It was heavy, solid, and wider than he was. He turned the door sideways like a giant, improvised shield and held it in front of his body.

Then he charged. The ogre thundered across the chamber, using the door as an enormous improvised shield.

The Bozaks barely had time to react. The door slammed into the second rank, driving the draconians backward. Their boots scraped across the carpet as Grumak continued pushing, using his considerable bulk to force them toward the wall. Reptilian feet scrabbled against the floor, trying to find enough purchase to halt the ogre's advance.

The four Bozaks still free to fight reacted with the discipline of veteran soldiers.

One stepped forward to meet Bren, bringing his longsword around in a vicious horizontal slash. Bren caught the blow on his own blade, the impact ringing through the chamber.

Another turned on Kassir. The two draconians exchanged a flurry of blows, their swords clashing as they fought at close quarters.

The third Bozak lunged at Tarakis. The deserter tried to bring his sword around to intercept the attack, but he was a fraction too slow. The longsword struck home.
Tarakis staggered backward, a terrible wound opening across his body. His sword dipped, and he dropped to one knee, struggling to remain upright.

The fourth Bozak attacked Davaa. The Khurish warrior was turning to face another threat when the longsword caught him across the small of his back.

Davaa grunted in pain and stumbled forward. His studded leather armor absorbed enough of the blow to prevent the blade from cutting deeply into his spine, but the impact sent a sharp pain through his lower back.

He twisted around, Bloodletter still firmly in his hand, and faced his attacker.

Bren pushed his opponent back and punched him in the face with the pommel of his sword. The bozak staggered back, dazed, and the ex-Sergeant lunged, driving his sword through the draconian's heart. The bozak's scales shriveled away in less than a moment and the creature's bones exploded. Bren and Kassir both managed to avoid most of the blast but, Tarakis, who was still down on one knee was peppered in the back with shrapnel and fell, gasping for breath.

Arthur glanced toward the fighting around him. Tarakis was down. Davaa had taken a hit. Bren and Kassir were still locked in battle with Rivven's honor guard. Across the chamber, Grumak was struggling to hold five bozaks trapped against the wall with his makeshift barricade.

Above, Cear's growling grew louder.

Arthur invoked the power of his shield. Energy spread throughout his body as his feet lifted a few inches off of the ground.

He turned toward Agnes. Their eyes met.

Arthur nodded. "Let’s end this."

Agnes looked up through the opening. "Yes, my knight."

Altan raised his bow and fired two shots in rapid succession. One narrowly whizzed past Bren who was already fighting a new bozak. The second was way off target as the melee carried into the west side of the room.

Phineas raised his Gat-inizer again, yanking the pullstring once more and pointed it at the bozaks pinned by Grumak.

Four darts streaked across the room. Unable to dodge while being held in place by the ogre, the draconians grunted with each impact.

Granite crashed into the Bozak that had been fighting Tarakis, driving his hammer into the draconian's chest, knocking him back a couple of steps. The dwarf-lord raised his hammer into the ready position, beckoning his wounded foe forward.

Agnes looked up once more, toward the enormous opening in the ceiling. Then her form began to melt. Soft elven skin was swiftly replaced by smooth, shining scales that reflected distorted images of the battle raging around her. Her arms lengthened, her fingers extending into wickedly curved claws. Her slender neck stretched forward as her face transformed into a long, elegant muzzle crowned with swept-back horns. Her silver hair vanished beneath a spreading mantle of scales.

The transformation continued with astonishing speed.

Her body expanded, powerful muscles rippling beneath her gleaming hide. A long tail swept out behind her, and enormous silver wings unfolded from her shoulders.
Her body expanded, powerful muscles rippling beneath her gleaming hide. A long tail swept out behind her, and enormous silver wings unfolded from her shoulders.
The companions nearest her hurriedly gave her room.

Within moments, the silver-haired elf was gone. In her place stood Ag'nessallynn the Silver, a young dragon whose brilliant scales shimmered in the light of the burning fireplace.

She stretched her wings as far as the chamber permitted and bared her teeth.

Kassir surged forward, leaping over Tarakis and driving his sword hilt deep into the chest of the bozak his brother had been fighting. His legs churned, pushing the larger draconian back. He shoved off just as his enemy's scales began to blacken and flake away. The bozak exploded a moment later. Bone splinters pierced his face and neck. The baaz held his sword in a guard position as he slowly backed out of the fight, blood dripping on the floor with each step he took.

Varkesh rose from the cover of the stairs and ran to reinforce Grumak. The hobgoblin hurtled his body into the barricade adding his strength to the ogre's.

Davaa brought Bloodletter around in a sweeping arc. The first slash opened a bozak's belly. The second took the draconian's face clean off. The Khir turned aside, shielding much of his body as he could with his thick robes.

Grumak continued to push the bozaks with the door but, suddenly, his foot slipped and he went down in a heap. The bozaks leapt into action. Shortswords appeared and began stabbing into the ogre's back. Grumak roared and tried to get back to his feet. One of the draconians drove his blade all of the way through Grumak's calf but the ogre forced himself to his feet, bleeding from nearly a dozen wounds.

The roar came from directly overhead. The ceiling shook. Then two massive, crimson-scaled forelimbs appeared. Claws scraped against the edges of the opening, gouging deep furrows into the masonry. A pair of enormous wings folded tightly against a body too large for the space through which it was attempting to descend.

Cear forced his way through.

His golden eyes swept across the carnage. Rivven lay dead beside the central lift shaft. Cear snorted contemptuously when he saw her body.

Then, his eyes fell upon Agnes. "WELL, WELL, WELL. LOOK WHAT THE WIND BLEW IN. TELL ME, LITTLE SILVER. DID YOUR PARENTS SEND YOU TO DIE? OR DID YOU COME HERE ALL BY YOURSELF?"

As the crimson wyrm forced its way into the chamber, dragonfear spread through the room. Bren, Davaa, Grumak, Varkesh, Altan, Granite - all of them had their courage snuffed out one by one, like candles before an open window.

The draconians, including Kassir, were bolstered by the dragon’s arrival.

Phineas adjusted his grip on the Gat-inizer. "Good heavens! What an unnecessarily theatrical entrance!"

Arthur struck twice in rapid succession as his flight carried him up and over Cear's massive back.

Lawbringer flashed through the air. The first blow tore through the membrane of the dragon's left wing, opening a long, ragged gash between two of its supporting bones. The paladin twisted in midair and brought Lawbringer around again, slashing across the dragon's opposite wing. The consecrated blade sliced through the thick crimson membrane, leaving another deep tear in its wake.

The holy flames dancing along Lawbringer's edge accomplished nothing. Cear was a creature of fire, and ordinary flames held no terror for him but the concentrated powers of Good and Law surged through the wounds, burning the dragon's soul like acid in its eye.

Cear spun, turning in pursuit of his tormentor. In that moment, Agnes unleashed her breath weapon. A roaring cone of freezing air erupted from her mouth, carrying a blizzard of snow and razor-sharp ice crystals across the chamber. The blast caught Cear across his hindquarters. Frost spread rapidly over his crimson scales. Ice formed along the ridges of his tail and between the armored plates of his hind legs.

Cear's roar of fury became one of pain. His tail lashed violently, shattering ice and plaster. Ignoring the flying knight, Cear crashed through the ceiling into Rivven's quarters. He reached for Agnes.

"I'LL TEAR YOUR HEAD FROM YOUR SHOULDERS, WHELP!"

Agnes lowered her head, baring her teeth as the red dragon reached for her.

A voice from the far side of the room called out, "Yoo hoo!"

Then a bolt of lightning slammed into the side of Cear's head. Blue-white electricity crawled across the dragon's horns, leapt between his teeth, and crackled over the armored ridges surrounding his eyes. For an instant, the enormous red dragon's skull was silhouetted in brilliant light.

The thunderous discharge drowned out every other sound in the chamber.

Cear's entire head was knocked sideways by the blast of lightning. Sparks danced across his body and between his teeth. White smoke curled up from the scales on the side of his face.

Then something changed.

His pupils narrowed to murderous slits. The muscles along his neck and shoulders swelled, straining beneath his crimson scales. His claws dug into the stone floor, carving deep furrows as his entire body began to tremble. Foam begin to dribble from the side of his mouth.

A low rumble rose from somewhere deep inside his chest. It wasn't a growl. It was something older. More primal.

Cear threw back his head and roared. The sound shook the entire Governor's Spire. Even his Bozaks stopped, awed by the power of their master.

"KILL..."

"YOU..."

"ALL!"

"BRING IT YOU BA$^#@&!" Arthur roars. Lawbringer flares brilliantly. It holy fire blazes radiantly as he rushes at the berserk wyrm.

"In the name of Malazzarr, I smite you!"

The paladin strikes with all of his might. Three powerful blows tore through crimson scales. Holy radiance and orderly magic ripped through the dragon's corrupt, evil soul, inflicting as much damage as the physical attack.

Cear's roar carried more than rage with it this time. It carried pain. The dragon spun, its tail shattering the stones of the Spire's outer wall. One foot came down and narrowly missed one of its own draconian troopers.

Phineas braced the Shock N'Awe-atron against his shoulder and fired again.

As the bolt of lightning erupted from the weapon, Cear swung one enormous forelimb upward, placing his armored palm directly in its path. Lightning exploded across the dragon's scales, illuminating the chamber in brilliant blue-white light. Electricity crawled between his claws and raced up his forearm before dissipating. Cear barely flinched.

"NO MORE SURPRISES, LITTLE ONE."

Agnes chose that moment to surprise Cear by leaping onto his neck. Her jaws snapped, her claws raked, she buffeted the sides of the larger red dragon's head with her wings. She managed to draw blood but barely hurt the wyrm.

The bozaks fell upon Arthur's allies. Davaa and Granite managed to defend themselves despite their fear. Bren was struck across one thigh and Varkesh was stabbed in the shoulder.

Cear craned his neck to the side and grabbed one of her hind legs and yanked. She crashed to the ground and he began biting and tearing her flesh. Blood flowed from multiple wounds as she tried to wrestle her way out from underneath the larger dragon.

The remaining bozaks, the ones pinned against the wall by Grumak and his door strained against the ogre's strength. Three of them shoved with all of their might, giving the last two enough to run to slip out of the pin. They dropped beneath the door and struck with their swords, plunging their blades deep into Grumak's abdomen. The ogre staggered, his muscles failing him in an instant and he toppled to the floor as blood pooled around him.

Bren lunged forward, soaked in sweat. Terror widening his eyes and slashed with his sword. Two swift cuts sliced across his enemy's scales. That bozak collapsed. Its scales blackened swiftly. The deserter Sergeant turned and crouched as the dead bozak's skeleton exploded. He was grazed by tiny bits of bone shards but managed to avoid the worst of the blast.

Arthur flew straight at Cear driving Lawbringer deep into the space between dragon's shoulder blades. The giant red roared in pain as radiant energy tore through his corrupted body, burning in a way fire never could.

Altan raised his bow and with trembling hands, drew back and fired two arrows, one after another into one of the bozaks who had just felled Grumak. Both shafts struck - one in the shoulder and another slicing across the outside of one thigh. The draconian staggered.

Phineas yanked the cord on his Shock N'Awe-atron and took aim once again. He squeezed the trigger and lightning leapt forth. The white-hot bolt leapt from the barrel of his invention. The metal was glowing cherry-red and smoking as the electricity struck Cear's left wing. The blast ripped a hole through the membrane but the dragon was so enraged that he didn't even seem to feel the wound.

Granite rallied as best he could, Dwarven discipline taking the place of courage as his hammer rose and fell with mechanical precision. He landed two telling blows against the bozak pressing him, driving Rivven's bodyguard back with sheer determination.

Agnes, pinned beneath Cear's bulk, tore at her much larger foe with her teeth and claws. She battered him with her wings. She drew blood twice more but her efforts did little to slow the beating she was taking.

Kassir slashed and bit at his foe but the bozak honor guardsman parried and dodged, staying out of reach. Varkesh tried to fight back as well, also to no avail, as his enemy contemptuously batted his sword aside to deliver a counterstrike of his own. Blades clashed with neither managing to gain the upper hand in their duel.

But Davaa was there a moment later. The Khur slashed with Bloodletter, bringing the greatsword down across the back of the hobgoblin's opponent. A second blow finished the draconian and it exploded a second later. The blast dropped Varkesh to one knee. Davva raised an arm to protect his face from blazing shrapnel and staggered back, bleeding from several small cuts.

Only four Bozaks remained. The first fell upon Kassir with his blade but the baaz managed to parry the attack and gave ground, retreating toward the stairs where his allies could hopefully surround his foe. Granite caught a shortsword on the edge of his shield, turning the blow before it could harm him.

The final two rushed Varkesh and Davaa. The Khur swiped back and forth with his massive blade, keeping them at bay while Varkesh struggled to regain his feet.

The Cear struck. Blood ran from more than a dozen wounds. Pure adrenaline coursed through the crimson-scaled body as the dragon took a deep breath and unleashed an inferno in the chamber.

The bozaks were incinerated instantly. Varkesh and Kassir vanished an eyeblink later, consumed by fire. Davaa fell, his sword tumbling from his fingers. He lay on the floor, gazing up at the ceiling, gasping for breath through burned lungs. Bren, Altan, and Granite staggered and fell, screaming in pain. Phineas managed to throw himself behind some fallen debris but he was badly burned by the flames.

Agnes shrieked. She held one claw up to shield her face from the seemingly endless torrent of flame. It came away blackened, charred nearly to the bone. Even Arthur was engulfed in raging fire but his ring flared to life, creating a bubble of magic that kept the flames from touching his body. It didn't protect him completely, not by a long shot, but it kept him alive.

As the fire died away and smoke rose from the paladin's armor, Cear chuckled. "I think I will eat the baby silver first. Her cries have only served to whet my appetite for dragonflesh."

Bren dragged himself toward the stairs. His sword was gone. He didn't remember dropping it. His legs would support his weight. Everything was a blur. His leg had hurt before Cear had unleashed his breath weapon. Now, the fabric was burned, melted into his wounds.

Behind him, the dragon was roaring something. Bren couldn't make out a single word. He reached the edge of the steps and continued to pull himself along.

Arthur dropped out of the smoke like a thunderbolt. "COME AT ME, YOU #^&%^$ LIZARD!"

Lawbringer slammed into Cear's neck. The holy blade bit deep, splitting crimson scales and drawing a torrent of dark blood. Radiant energy surged through the wound, searing the dragon with the combined powers of Good and Law.

Arthur wrenched the sword free with all his strength, deliberately dragging its edge through the wound as he pulled away.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"

Arthur was already swinging again. Lawbringer flashed brilliantly.

The enchanted blade struck the base of one of Cear's great horns, shattering bone. The severed horn spun through the air, struck the floor, and bounced across the burning chamber before coming to rest among the wreckage of Rivven's command table.

Beneath the dragon, Agnes felt his attention shift. The crushing pressure of his foreclaw remained, but his head was no longer poised above her throat. Cear's golden eyes followed Arthur with murderous intensity but his breath came in raggedy gasps. Blood streamed down his neck, dripping from the terrible wounds Lawbringer had opened.

As Cear's weight shifted,  took advantage of his distracted state. Her teeth clamped down on his throat and talons raked his chest ripping open wounds caused by Arthur's holy blade. Somewhere, somehow, in all of the confused thrashing, she hit something vital and the red dragon stiffened instantly. His strength, his rage, went out of him in a rush as his eyes rolled back in their sockets and the wyrm crashed to the ground.

Agnes slowly crawled out from beneath the crimson corpse. Her breath came in pained gasps as she struggled to regain her feet.

Granite sat with his back against a cracked section of wall, his warhammer resting across his knees. His beard had been badly singed, and the skin beneath was blistered and raw. Every breath hurt, but the dwarf was alive.

He watched Arthur moving among the wounded. The paladin had gone first to Agnes, examining the terrible wounds Cear had inflicted upon her. Only after satisfying himself that the silver dragon would survive had he turned his attention to the others.

Davaa lay nearby, his breathing shallow and painful. Altan had suffered dreadful burns. Phineas was still conscious, although his hands trembled as he attempted to examine the damaged Shock N'Awe-atron.

Bren was collapsed at the top of the stairs.

Arthur worked until he had done everything he could for those still living. Only then did he allow himself to stop.

"We did it..." he murmured.

He looked around the devastated chamber.

"I can't believe we did it."

Rivven Cairn was dead. Cear was dead. The Red Dragon Highmaster and her terrible mount, the two figures who had ruled Styx through fear and brutality, were gone.

But the victory had come at a price. Tarakis had fallen fighting the Honor Squad. Kassir and Varkesh had perished in Cear's inferno. Grumak lay motionless amid the wreckage.

Arthur bowed his head and offered a prayer to Malazzarr for the fallen. Granite lowered his eyes respectfully.

For a while, neither spoke.

Eventually, Arthur rose and began collecting what he could from the battlefield. The enormous horn he had severed from Cear's head lay among the remains of Rivven's command table. It was nearly as long as Arthur's arm, its jagged base still stained with the dragon's blood.
Several crimson scales had been torn loose during the fighting. Arthur gathered those as well.

He retrieved Rivven's weapon, the black leather scourge, from where it had fallen after her death. He retrieved it, along with anything else that appeared valuable or significant enough to preserve.

Granite stroked what remained of his beard. "Lad, the beastie's hoard is going to be up there."

Arthur looked up.

Granite nodded toward the opening. "Dragons don't generally leave their treasures lying about where any passing thief can help himself. And that great red bastard wasn't likely to trust his mistress with everything he'd collected."

The dwarf shifted his weight and winced. "Gold, gems, enchanted weapons, armor... Could be anything up there and I'd wager the beastie was more interested in collecting treasure than spending it."

The dwarf rested both hands on the head of his warhammer. "Best we find out what ye've won before somebody comes looking to take it back."

Agnes nodded. "Go my knight, I will tend to our allies."

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