The Time of Dragons, an Magic.. *All welcome*

When the door to the room unexpectedly opened Ona's hand instinctually flew up over her head, her other arm rose palm out toward the figures in the doorway as she dropped into a defensive crouch. Her eyes snapped with silver flecks as the flames from the nearest candle flew to her palm and swelled into an apple sized fire ball. Recognition came and she straighted, feeling a bit self-conscious as she closed her hand over the fire ball snuffing it efficiently.

Mantra said:
"I had wondered where you had gotten off to after supper, but why are you here?"

Ona took a deep breath and released it slowly giving O'Bonn a quick nod before turning to Drakkon.

"One of your own believes I may be a threat to security. I am waiting to be brought before the Matriarch." Her gaze took in their drawn weapons and detected the battle ready tightness in their bodies. Her glance flickered to Valanthe and back to the men. "Where is the guard who was posted outside the door? And what danger caused the alarm to be raised?"
 
Gar chuckled as the spirit of the ogre manifested before him. Obviously, their souls were no smarter than their physical shells.

"My dear fellow, it appears that you have been killed in a most unfortunate accident. I *could* create for you a new and healthy body, but it would be at a price"

He pulled out one of the tiles and showed it to the ogre.

"What, exactly, is this for?"

******

Valanthe could feel her heart racing in the confined space of the antechamber, in the heightened awareness that danger often braught. Ona, too, seemed on edge, and when the doors were thrown open, she was realeved to see that it was Drakkon, and Master O'Bonn who stood there, and not the intruder.

"Excuse me, my lords, but if this hall is in danger, is it not my duty to defend it? Only, I fear the weapons I came here with are still in your vault"
 
In the Keep

Drakkon looked from one lady to the other.

"Guard? There was no guard outside. The hall itself is empty. Still, that does not mean there are not intruders about and I have no time to go to the armory."

He considered the two for a moment longer.

"Perhaps you both should come with us. I do not think it wise to leave you here alone. Come with us and join in the search."

Drakkon led them back into the hall and as before, no one was visable.
"Let us seperate and cover more ground. You two," he said motioning to O'Bonn and Valanthe. "continue down this hall. Idrall Two-Bloods is residing erstwhile, make sure she is OK. You," meaning Ona. "shall come with me and head back towards the Chapel. We seek a mischevious shadow, perhaps more than one. Show it no quarter or a moments hesitation."
 
Outside

The phantom ogre looked intently at Gar as he explaned the situation.

"Huh?"

The his gaze went to the tile Gar held.

"Hey! Dat my rock! Gumbad say it worth lots o gold!"

Gar held out the tile, snatching it back before the phantom's hand closed on it, not that he could have taken it in any case, but there was no need to tell the ogre that right away... Instead, Gar offered the trinket in leiu of more information.

"Gumbad be head big chief." the ogre explained. "He reeel smart and stuff. Little, fuzzy cat-guy comes one day and they talk and talk and talk. Fuzzy guy gives Gumbad lots of shiny rocks so Gumbad says we go to war with mountan folk. Ogres no like war with mountan folks cuz mountan folks got big lizard queen and queen gots lots of winged men that hurts ogres. So Gumbad hits ogres and gives us some shiny rocks then says 'go make war' and we do."

"Me have rock back now?"
 
Gar scrathced his chin and found a place to sit down in front of the phantom ogre.

"My dear fellow, I think we can be of great help to each other. You say you do not wish to make war on the mountain folk, yet Gumbad made you? Well, what would you say if I made you bigger and stronger? Not only that, but forever, too! I could do it, you know. You can also have your rock back. I would only ask one more thing of you in excange - tell me everything about Gumbad and the cat-guy"

Gar started to rummage around in his pack for some of his 'aquired' items. He had just the tools for what he wanted buried at the bottom. It only took a moment, but he managed to retrieve them both. One, a seemingly ordinary rock, could record anything spoken, and recount it when required. The other, a gem he had conviced a trader to part with, was probably just what he needed as an object to bind the ogre's soul to. Mind you, he hadn't tried to do that in a long time, but, with luck, Sssethno was looking down apon him
 
Instinctively Ona moved to Drakkon’s left and took position a step behind the winged man. She kept her arms loosely at her side, her stance one of readiness. Here was a chance to perhaps prove her trustworthiness. She would help locate and destroy this shadow. From somewhere in the depth of her mind came a scrap of information. Shadows were used for many things along with spying and at times even to assassinate. They were creatures of evil, used by those with evil intent. What had these been called here to do?

Turning to follow Drakkon, Ona felt all of her senses peak. Her hearing picked up murmurs from others in rooms around them, the sound of footsteps along a hall a floor above them. She could smell the smoke from fireplaces all through the keep, the cooking smells from the kitchens, a faint scent of incense and herbs. Vaguely it occurred to her that these were normal things, things that came with a many people living together. Nothing too out of the ordinary caught her attention. She should be able to feel the chill of the shadow if it were nearby.

She kept close enough to Drakkon to feel any shift in his body that would indicate a change of direction but not enough to enable an ambush to take them both. Her eyes shifted from side to side taking in everything as they paced quickly down the hall. She didn’t chatter, or speak at all, as any good soldier would know not to.

It was war after all….and the battle had come to them once more.
 
O'Bonn nodded to the dragonkind, and tugging Valanthe by the arm, he turned and was away. It was but a little ways down the hallway, around a sharp turn, and he found Idiral's room. He pressed his ear to the door and listened.

Silence.

Breathing. Slow and shallow.

And movement. Not the kind of soft steps one would make on stone, nor the sounds of one shifting in sleep. This movement was a quiet rustling. A breath of darkness over cold walls. The kind of sound a shadow would make.

O'Bonn kicked the solid door with a side-step kick, causing the heavy wooden to creak and burst open. He was within the room in an instant, his scimitar glowing with its runes. He saw the dark shape meld against the flickering shadows upon the wall. No candle could hide its form this time.

He saw Idrial laying on her back upon the rug on the floor. She lived still, he saw.

O'Bonn cast his eyes once again to the shadow that slithered its way across the ceiling. The thing's yellow eyes blinked inky blackness. He reached into his pack and withdrew a glowstone. He spoke the words and the stone illuminated. He spoke them again, louder, and the stone shone brighter. He saw the shadow put its hands against its face, perhaps shielding its eyes. O'Bonn yelled the incantation a third time, and the stone brought forth a blinding, white light. The shadow fell from the ceiling onto the floor.

The High Warrior gave a cry as he stepped forward, bringing his scimitar around in a sweeping cut. One of the creature's wings was severed instantly. It rolled, scampering, and brought its palms together in front of its chest.

O'Bonn grimaced with anger. He recognized the pattern of the thing's hands. It was the triangle of power, the incantation form, wherein the creature was either preparing to summon something or teleport from the room.

It would not get the chance. O'Bonn drove the tip of his scimitar through the shadow's hands, through its chest, until the magical blade came out the shadow's back and dripped black blood.

"So they can be killed by Elf as well," he said, winking at Valanthe. He turned from the corpse, and knelt by Idrial's side.

"She lives," he said, "but she sleeps. Some spell has been cast upon her, and if it is the sleeping spell, she will slumber for an unknown time."
 
Outside

The phantom Nodded shuffling from one foot to the other as he remembered and spoke.

"Uh, lesse..Um, Gumbad big chief, bout yea tall.." and he held up one thick hand to indicate a height similar to the ogre's own. "wit a funny tusk on top o head. He be reeel strong and reeel smart. Him always say that ogre's be slow an could have lots more gold if we actually do more stuff like go find little folks who want ogres to beat up other little folks. Mostly ogres just like to beat up everyone so this not go well at first, so GHumbad takes some ogres away to do his way and they all come back with lots o gold. So Gumbad have smarts but old chief says no, we beats up everyone like always...so Gumbad fights wit chief and kills im, so Gumbad is now chief, even tho Gumbad not really from our tribe."

"So we's beating up little folks for gold and then fuzzy cat-guy comes to Gumbad. No one likes fuzzy guy cuz he says we dumb and smelly but strong. Gumbad and him talk lots, argues lots and finally makes deal, shiny rocks for war."

"So we is here."
 
Idrial's Room

The shadow was defeated, breaking up and fading away into the nothingness which it had come from upon the killing blow.

O'Bonn knelt beside Idrial, she lived but was very pale and cold. Her breathing was shallow as if she hovered on death's door, but no wound or mark could be found upon her nor was there any evidence of a spell present.
 
The Chapel

Drakkon and Ona had searched without success, finally opening into a octogonal shaped room with several benches around a central altar. The smell of insense was strong in the room and a mosaic with a six pointed star decorated the floor with the altar in the center.

They moved without speaking, each searching for the elusive enemy as they went, but it was not long before they encountered LoreKeeper coming back from his own patrol.

"Greetings. The Matriarch commands that all the visitors be brought to her imeadiatly. Great and terrible things are afoot I fear."
 
Gar listened intently to the Ogre's story, all the while recording his words into his speech stone, while he abesntly toyed with the gem. "I see. Well, I apreciate all the information. As a reward, you can not only have your stone back, but you can have this gem, and never be parted from it by theif or war. Deal?"

Of course, he knew the Ogre would accept the extended reward because they were gready creatures at heard, much like himself.

*****

Valanthe had been dragged by O'Bonn through the great fortress in search of the shade. Her memory of his skills obviously paled in comparison to his skills this day. It had only been a very short time and the shadow had been found and slain!

She stood in the doorway, and watched as he knelt by the other woman. It wasn't someone she had seen before, but if the shadow was in the same room as her, that that meant danger. "O'Bonn? I'm not skilled in the ways of shadows, but I'm sure that whatever has happened here is serious. Would you mind... filling me in?"
 
O'Bonn gently lifted Idrial's still form from the floor. He placed her on the bed, tucking a pillow under her head. He then turned to Valanthe.

"Elven lore holds the shadows are the assassins from the netherworld. Summoned, they are, to do their summoner's bidding," he told her. "The dragonkind here would know more about them," he added, wondering how Drakkon had fared in his search.

"This one," he pointed to Idrial, "is of Man and Elf. She is the reason I am here. The seers foretold of a Man-child that would come and bring an end to war. The boy, who is kept safe now by the great dragon Thorn, is this child we believe. As for his origins and true destiny, I have yet to discover.

"I accompanied Idrial, along with the wolf Gar, the Dark Elf Thelron, the woman Ona, and the Fay hound, to bring the Man-child to the keep on Red Mountain. It was my father's wish that I find the child and keep him safe until his destiny was revealed. What better place to keep him than within the folds of dragon wings? But alas, now evil has even come here."

Suddenly, the Fay hound appeared in the doorway. The silver-white wolf-like dog sniffed the air, cocked his head to one side, and then entered. He walked to the foot of Idrial's bed and whined.

O'Bonn scratched the majai-hi behind the ears. He then turned back to Valanthe, a look of sadness suddenly crossing his face. He cast his eyes down to the floor.

"I am the reason Morrigann now speaks from shadow," he admitted.

He turned to leave, clapping his hand against his side for the Fay hound to follow. Drakkon must be made aware of the shadow's attack.
 
Valanthe stood, dumbstruck at O'Bonn's words. He was responsable for Lady Morriganne speaking from the shadows? Then, that meant, she was dead. Dead by his hand! She could feel an equal anger and sadness rising within her being as O'Bonn, and the fey hound walked past and into the corridor.

"You... killed her? When? How? Her spirit is still strong, so she can be returned to life, right?"

O'Bonn stopped but didn't reply for a second. Valanthe felt a tear starting to run down her cheek.

"...Right?"

She so wanted it to be true. Lady Morriganne, niece to the Lady of the Lake. Surely she could not havepassed over entirely! There had to be some magic that could bring her back...
 
At the dragon-man’s words Ona went very still. Waves of anger and battle heat poured over her from all throughout the Keep. She looked from Drakkon to LoreKeeper and felt the tight control they kept over themselves. Yet, still, from all corners of the Keep the tension rose.

Ona felt her skin begin to warm and her breath caught in her chest. She knew that now was not the time to lose her own grip on her emotions, she had to remain cool and calm. Without thinking she closed her eyes and drew into herself bringing to mind a picture of a clear crystal lake, deep and calm. Into this lake she sent the inferno that she knew was building around her waiting to burst forth in consuming flame. In her mind the water began to churn and steam rose in curls from the surface. The steam she gathered and used to build a barrier, closing her mind and senses against the call to violence that echoed through the Keep. It took only a moment, as if this was an exercise she was well acquainted with. When she could once more breathe normally she opened her eyes and nodded to herself.

She was ready to face the Matriarch.
 
O'Bonn did not turn around as he answered Valanthe's question.

"Morrigann was not the fair one you remember," he told her. "She had become...something else. She had turned to darkness. She drank the blood of the living, burned in the light of the sun, and spoke incantations from the Abyss."

He half-turned, his voice low, raspy. "It was fate that she died that night, slain by the hand of one who loved her so long ago."

He faced her now, and she could see tears welling in his large, amber eyes. "She will return, when the Fay deem it to be so. My heart knows this. She has told me this." He took her chin, pulling her gaze to meet his. "You must trust what you feel, Huntress."

With that, the High Warrior turned on his heel and left the room, the Fay hound at his side. Drakkon and the others must be told of the shadow. And now, more than ever, he must speak with the dragon called Thorn.
 
Ona followed Drakkon and Lorekeeper down several pathways, each leading deeper and deeper into the mountain keep. She was aware of the growing heat and yet her body metabolism shifted so that she did not become too warm. Their swift pace soon led them to the cavernous chamber of the inner sanctum with the still pool of water reflecting the flickering light of the torches set along the walls. Ona stopped inside the large double doors and let her eyes become accustomed to the dim lighting and smokey atmosphere.

She watched the two dragonmen move to one side and kneel on one knee, a position of respect, and registered the presence of Phalanx already kneeling. She felt his gaze on her as she slowly moved to a position near the three and sank to her knees on the stone floor. She sat back on her heels, her back held straight, shoulders pulled back and her hands resting palm down high on her thighs.

There was power here. She could feel it. Not coming from the dragonmen, but from another source. Her gaze traveled around the room focusing on the shadows at the far side of the pool. With a start she realized that two large glowing eyes gazed unblinkingly back at her. From the shadows emerged the face of the great dragon. For a moment Ona's heart swelled at the magnificence of the creature before her. She swallowed past a lump in her throat and bowed her head in respect, feeling unworthy in the presence of such a one as this.
 
Draken
21
Drow/Elf/Human
Warlock/Ranger.

--- A portal opened on the side of the mountain. The sole traveler leapinging onto the mountain as the portal quickly shruk to nothingness. The mixed breed as he refered to by either truly brave or truly stupid people, looked around at the mountain side. A black cloak covering the drow's as he perferred to be called, features, hiding his capitaving black eyes.

After several moment of looking around he found a small door in the mountain side. He slowly approached it, unsure of what could be near it. When no threat appeared, Draken slowly opened the door and slipped inside, his eyes slowly turning to their heat sensitive yellow color as the door shut behind him leaving him in darkness.
 
Idrial could hear the others around her she wanted to call out to O'bonn and let him know she was still holding on, but could not move everything was so cold and dark...

she struggled against the dark feeling as tho she were swimming threw something thick and heavy and not getting anywhere.. What had happend she couldnt remember.. The boy Rhys.... Dragons... a quest.. Thorn.. she remembered the quest and the promise she made Thorn..

.Evil comes and Villainy brings,
Darkness comes on Dragon’s Wings

Fueled by Rage and an Age-old War,
Seeking to tip the Scales forevermore.

Of two Bloods where now one Stands,
Holds the fate of Worlds within their Hands

Thinking of the Prophecy certen words in the prophecy caught her attention.. Thorn had called her Two Bloods, Rage and age old war reminded her of Phalanax.
and of corse Dragon wings ment the dragons but she couldnt seem to tie it all together..at least not yet..

Looking at Thorn she said.I would be honord to give you aid if i am able and i will keep my word to protect the boy. Is there more to this Prophecy?

I must stay strong i cant give up... i cant... she thought as the image fadded and she begain to fight even more against the darkness and cold surrounding her.
 
Valanthe sat down, cross-legged on the floor. If this woman was in trouble, and her mistress had told her to aid O'Bonn, then she would remain and guard her as best she could. Sure, without any weapons and against a wystical foe there was little she could do, but she had to at least try.

Closing her eyes, she tried to let herself slip into a medatative mtate where she would be truly aware of her surroundings. It was hard, very hard. The lack of space, the still air, everything felt unnatural to her, and her mind raced, causing her once more to quicken her breathing.

Opening her eyes, she could feel a cold sweat holding her. Why? She'd been here for years, and yet still broke out in a sweat every time she tried to focus. Damn these dragons, and damn these dwarves with their underground halls!
 
He crept through the tunnels, his steps silent along the floor. He called forth an orb of unnatural darkness and placed it near a corner, allowing him to find a place to hide from the patrol of dwarves that passed by him on their way to the outpost. His hands were itching to draw his falcions and attack the dwarves from behind. His hatred of dwarves was well known in the City of Shadows, especially among his advisors.

They were always trying to prevent him from attacking a dwarf when he saw one. However at the present moment, slaughter of a dwarf patrol would endanger his mission. He was the highest paid assassin in the City of Shadows and soon to become the prince of the city. His reason for being here though was a whole different story. He had been sent by the Dark High Priest Malhavoc. Sent here to find and either kill or kidnap a certain boy.

Apperantly the Dark Goddess Tarkesis, want this Rhys, or whatever his name was dead. He wasn't about to question that order and besides he was being paid rather handsomely for the job. Suddenly he stopped, something was behind him. He pressed his back to the wall and invoked his inate levitation abilities to hover seven feet above the ground.


A dwarf in robes passed underneath of him, unaware of his presence. Draken pulled his longbow from his back and nocking an arrow, drew the bow back to its full length and released the arrow into the dwarves throat. The arrow pierced through the dwarves throat and dropped it to the floor gushing blood out of a pierced jugular vein. Draken lowered himself back to the floor and drug the dwarf into a corner and continued on his way, still cloaked his his black cloak.
 
Outside:

Just as Gar had expected, the ogre phantom reached out and took the gem....or rather, the gem took the ogre. There was a flast and the psirit seemed to be sucked inwards, like smoke flowing through a keyhole. Within just a moment, the ogre was gone and Gar was standing alone in the snow as the gem in his hand pulsed once faintly before going dark.

"Oi, fuzzy!" called a heavy voice from the snow. Gar turned to look, only to see some five or so armed dwarves pushing their way down towards him.

"You need to come with us, laddie. We've been sent to fetch ya. Seems you and yer friends all have an appointment with Her. Come on."

*************************************************************
Idrial's room:

The two elves chatted softly when the door opened revealing the youthful, boy-dragonman, Reverend.

"I was right." he said to himself when he saw Idrial. "I knew something was wrong here. Did the shadows touch her?"

O'Bonn and Val quickly explained what had happened as Reverend bent over Idrial's still form, examining her.

"She is not well, but neither has she passed to her next life. I will do whaty I can for her, but now you must go. The Matriarch herself has commanded all the companions of the Two-Blood shall attend her. I am to bring you to her."
 
The other were all rounded up and brought deep, deep into the fortress. All the party realized that it was becoming quite warm and any of those who wore heavy clothing or armor began to sweat profusely. Poor Gar who was encumbered with both armor and his heavy fur coat was soon damp with sweat. They were met and led down by the white-winged dragonman, Reverend, who dismissed the dwarven guard. The dwarves all bowed respectfully, turned and left them.

They finally arrived at a great pair of stone double doors, each set with a carving of a dragon, twisting itself into a figure eight. Silver inlay glittered in the firelight and rubies twinkled from the dragon's eyes. It was magnificent craftmanship, but not of elvish make. The doors slid sideways, disapearing into the walls on either side and Reverend ushered them all into the next room.

"We are dispensing with a good deal of ceremony," He commented as they entered. "She has deemed time to be of the essence and so has asked the formality to be set aside, a very rare thing if you only knew.... Still if I may say, she is as great as any Sage or Empress in any of your cultures. Kings have begged to see her and have been sent away at times. You do not know the great privlidge that you are being given. Remember that and respect it."

The doors slid closed behind them and they found themselves in a great, circular room, so large they could not see the celing nor the far wall for the deep shadows that the fires could not chase away. The room was half-ringed with dozens of torches. It was very hot within the room and the air was tinged somewhat by smoke and the heat. To their left, they recognized both Drakkon and Phalanx, both kneeling on one knee as well as a third dragon-man, the elder, with brownish wings and gazelle horns named LoreKeeper, kneeling to the right. Reverend likewise knelt on one knee next to LoreKeeper as all faced the center of the room. The group also recognized Ona, who had vanished during their supper, but seemed to be unharmed. Still, she stood trance-like, staring towards the other side of the room.

Towards the center there was a pool of water, set in a ring of smooth, red bricks. On either side was a large and lit brass brazier, each giving off a scented smoke as well as firelight. Then the shadows behind the pool moved and shifted and all realized that the deep shadow between them and the farthest wall, was in fact, a living thing and none could doubt for a moment, that they were not in the company of a creature as powerful and as old as anything they had ever known.

The dragon Matriarch, Thorn.

She was a massive creature, larger than any dragon any of them had encountered before, Even as large as this chamber was, she seemed ill housed in it, despite the shadows attempt at hiding her being. Luminesent lights from above were in fact, giant dragon eyes, which stared down at them before the wedge shaped head bent down low upon a long, serpentine neck. Thorn was a deep, midnight blue in color. A fact which had aided her in hiding in plain sight amongst the shadows. Two bull-like horns protruded from either side of her head above cow-like ears while a third, nubby horn stood out from the center of her forhead. Teeth were visible jutting out from her long snout as she bent her head and swept it back and forth while her senses absorbed the natures of those before her.
She was old, that much could be seen in her features. Her left eye was cloudy and it gleemed less brightly than the other, and wrinkles lined her face while here and there, patches of blue scales did not quite seem to fit her frame, but as well as age, allfelt great strength and power rippling off the beast like a wave. The dragon-awe swept over them all and there was an urge to either crumble to ones knees or turn and flee in terror.


"I greet you all and welcome. She said, her voice reverberating off the rocks, seeming to come from every corner of the room as well as from the wedge-shaped head. "My name cannot be pronounced in your tongues but it means 'Wisdom of the Ages'. I am Dragon of Time and Spirit, but your kind knows me simply as 'Thorn'. I know that many of you have questions. Ask and I shall reveal what I can before I explain whay you have all been summoned to me."
 
The High Warrior knelt before Thorn. He did not raise his head, but kept it bowed with reverence. The last time he had been in the presence of the mightiest of Dragons he was but a small youth-Elf. Then, he had no fear or awe, but a sense of terror, even as Thorn sheltered the signing of the Treaty of Peace with an outstretched wing.

Now to be in the presence of she was quite simply awesome.

He addressed her with humility when he spoke, and he tried to speak softly, even though his voice reverberated throughout the chamber.

"Great One, who is this that attacks us without revealing himself?"
 
Gar grumbled. Seemed he was doing alot of that recently. Well, at least he was getting something out of this venture. He had tiles that seemed to be worth something, and he had the soul of an ogre that had been most helpful in providing information.

But still, walking back through the cavernous fortress was seriously annoying! He had no magic to pampen the heat, and his fur was literally dripping. What made him sweat more, however, was when he was ushered into the great hall, and into the presence of the great dragon Thorn. If she was as powerful as the stories he'd heard, then he was almost certainly going to die. If she could indeed read the souls of man and beast, then his own would doubtless appear darker than any other in the room.

He stood, transfixed in pure fear

******

Valanthe fell to one knee next to O'Bonn and bowed her head. She did not say a word. She did not need to. She hadn't seen this room before, but had felt the presence of Thorn. Just by being with the adventurers, and O'Bonn surely told her things that simple words could not
 
Meeting no more opposition in that smaller tunnel, Draken came to an intersection of tunnels. He paused at the intersection as he tried to figure out where to go. He could feel a warm draft coming, through the tunnel on his right, this meant that an opening was on his right. So he decided that the main hall would be through the left tunnel.

Turning left, he began to walk, his back sliding against the wall. His steps were silent even on the solid rock floor of the tunnels, comparable to the stomping feet of dwarves. Speaking of which, he heard the stomping feet of a small dwarven patrol headed his way. Glancing upward, he realized he couldnt levitate high enough for them not to find him.

A curse broke from his lips, its origin placed in the Infernal tongue. He didn't want to alert the dwarves that he was here yet.It appeared that they left him no choice though. He summoned the raw power of a warlock into his hands and waited till the dwarves were closer before he struck. Throwing out both of his hands, a set of purple rays shot out from his hands and struck the dwarves.

It burned through four of the seven dwarves armor, cooking their insides and killing them almost instantly. The other three raised thier weapons and uttering a battlecry charged at him. He waited till they were close enough to almost strike him before he spun to the side, avoiding their rush as he drew his weapons. The twin falchions almost jumping into his hands, their blades dancing with a dark fire.

An evil grin on his face, he parried the lead dwarves wild axe blow, following the parry with a quick thrust to dwarves unprotected armpit. It pierced through the mail and cut the tendons in the dwarves arm. His second falchion, was working the second dwarves axe in a circle, bofore spinning it out of the dwarves hand and into the darkness.

Draken laughed and sliced his sword across the dwarves face, cutting deep into the dwarves face and leaving him blind, as well as choking on his own blood. The dwarf crumpled to the floor and the last dwarf took its place, angered by its friend's and comrades death. The remaining two dwarves bellowed and attacked as one, all to no avail as Draken jumped backwards and used the purple rays that had been used on the first four, olny these rays were stronger and incinerated the dwarves entire bodies.

With the patrol desimated, Draken found a small door and darted inside to hide for a short time. Upon entry however he noticed a body lying on the bed nearby. He looked around and found no where to hide until he noticed the large rafters above him. He invoked his leviation ability and was soon hidden in the darkness of the rafters.
 
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