Dragons spite
Posted: 2003-03-22 11:05pm
“If you move your troops into the Trindak Mountain rang we will consider it an act of war! “Bellowed the massive Silver-scaled dragon, Sylvaneth. The ambassador sent by the Silver Dragons to the Wyrm Council. He was addressing, Maltharax, the female Delegate sent by the Red Dragons.
“We have breeding females in that mountain range, we have an ancestral claim to it” He screeched. Claws digging nervously into the rock of his mountain perch, as his muscles rippled in rage, causing his silver scales to reflect the rays of the sun in all directions. Brindath, the Amethyst Dragon arbiter, and head of the council witched nervously. He could sense that the two dragons where on the verge of open conflict
“Cease this immediately” He Roared “ I will not allow this council t be marred by shed blood! But if you want war, then you shall certainly have it!” Malathrax, sneered at the purple crystal dragon, and made a statement before departing.
“ Our lands stretch as far as the eye can see. And from certain places, we can see the Trindak Mountain range. We shall take what is rightly ours by force” as she took flight in the direction of her own lair.
“ The council is dismissed” Brindath groaned, before teleporting away in a flash of light.
The next day, the legions of Half-Dragons, and orcs crossed, into the Trindak mountain range, with dragons at their head….
“And so it begins” Mumbled Sylvaneth” Betran sevoth” and his signal as sent. From the clouds, chunks of rock, and ice ripped from the mountainsides began to plummet down upon the advancing army. Crushing hundreds in a shower of ice. Blood, stone, and bone. The screams of the fallen, carried by the wind, where deafening. Sylvaneth screeched a challenge, opening his huge leathery wings, he launched himself into the cold wind. Following behind him, was an army of elves, and half-dragon elite’s. Arrows and spells rained from the mountain tops and snow banks. The hatred between elves and orcs, a multigenerational blood war, fueled the conflict as each sought each other out. Swords and axes, spears and maces, clashed. Their wielders whirling in a deadly dance of death. Both, elven and orcish screams filled the chill morning air. Their blood mingled with the snow and hung in a red mist in the air.
Spells of mass pain rained from the clouds now, as Half-Dragons met in an Arial clash for supremacy. Dog fighting with spells and weaker versions of their ancestors breath weapons. Melee would be joined in a combination of gnashing teeth, and raking claws. Their blood rained on the land bound casing them to rise into an even greater fury.
The reds now joined the battle, landing, their already red scales, glistened, wet with the blood of elves. The taste of blood whipped them into a death frenzy, the spells hurled by the cloud walking silvers having no effect on them. Beams of ice explode off of them, repelled by the dragon’s aura of magic. The screams of both elves and green-skinned orcs filled the air at a new level of intensity, as dragonfear drove them into a panic and the dragons tore into them without regard for alliances. Blood and bone filled the air, as both elves and orcs spilled their blood, and lost their organs to each swipe of dragon claw. The eves and orcs broke and ran; forgetting their blood-hatred and retreating before mutually assured destruction.
At this point, tied from the fight, the half-dragons had retreated to the back, no longer able to fl from sheer exhaustion.
Sylvaneth circled the battle, tossing spells into the now unoccupied reds. A ball of crackling ice formed at his claw tips and flew toward one of the smaller ones. It stuck, and overwhelmed by the spell, the young red was frozen solid. A scream not even escaping his jaw.
A ball of flames whizzed down at him. Looking back, he sees his old nemesis Vernraz.
I see you have been given a command!" He sneered, as he took evasive action. Pulling a wingover he turned to face his opponent.
"He’s mine!" They both called simultaneously, as they shot toward each other. Both unleashed their breath weapons, Sylvaneth a cone of ice. Vernraz a gout of flame. Each canceled out upon impact with the other. They veered off seconds before collision.
Below them, and above them, the other dragons watched. Their sense of honor preventing them from interfering, as the two great wyrms continued their elaborate Ariel ballet.
Sylvaneth glided toward the ground allowing his enemy to chase him. He then quickly flapped downward, halting his forward movement and moving straight up. With his opponent below him, he landed on Vernraz's back, and viciously bit into his neck. He tasted blood as his teeth penetrated scales, and bit deep into dragon flesh. He then used his claws and tore into the reds wings. Unable to support himself and Sylvaneth with injured wings, they both glided toward the ground and their massive weight hit the blood-covered snow with an earth-shaking thud.
The two dragons, both covered with gallons of blood. rose to meet each other n melee one more. They clashed n a writhing mass of scales, teeth and claws. Both silver and red scales flew, mixed with blood as Vernraz tore into Sylvaneth's side with is claws Sylvaneth countered by latching onto Vernraz's throat and pinning him down. Using his claws on his pinned opponent Vernraz as quickly eviscerated in a shower of entrails, and blood. His dying scream carried for hundred of miles.
The shocked red dragons, where easy prey for the silvers that came shrieking from the clouds, easily freezing the confused and disoriented reds in a torrent of ice.
The battle was won. But the war was far from over…
“We have breeding females in that mountain range, we have an ancestral claim to it” He screeched. Claws digging nervously into the rock of his mountain perch, as his muscles rippled in rage, causing his silver scales to reflect the rays of the sun in all directions. Brindath, the Amethyst Dragon arbiter, and head of the council witched nervously. He could sense that the two dragons where on the verge of open conflict
“Cease this immediately” He Roared “ I will not allow this council t be marred by shed blood! But if you want war, then you shall certainly have it!” Malathrax, sneered at the purple crystal dragon, and made a statement before departing.
“ Our lands stretch as far as the eye can see. And from certain places, we can see the Trindak Mountain range. We shall take what is rightly ours by force” as she took flight in the direction of her own lair.
“ The council is dismissed” Brindath groaned, before teleporting away in a flash of light.
The next day, the legions of Half-Dragons, and orcs crossed, into the Trindak mountain range, with dragons at their head….
“And so it begins” Mumbled Sylvaneth” Betran sevoth” and his signal as sent. From the clouds, chunks of rock, and ice ripped from the mountainsides began to plummet down upon the advancing army. Crushing hundreds in a shower of ice. Blood, stone, and bone. The screams of the fallen, carried by the wind, where deafening. Sylvaneth screeched a challenge, opening his huge leathery wings, he launched himself into the cold wind. Following behind him, was an army of elves, and half-dragon elite’s. Arrows and spells rained from the mountain tops and snow banks. The hatred between elves and orcs, a multigenerational blood war, fueled the conflict as each sought each other out. Swords and axes, spears and maces, clashed. Their wielders whirling in a deadly dance of death. Both, elven and orcish screams filled the chill morning air. Their blood mingled with the snow and hung in a red mist in the air.
Spells of mass pain rained from the clouds now, as Half-Dragons met in an Arial clash for supremacy. Dog fighting with spells and weaker versions of their ancestors breath weapons. Melee would be joined in a combination of gnashing teeth, and raking claws. Their blood rained on the land bound casing them to rise into an even greater fury.
The reds now joined the battle, landing, their already red scales, glistened, wet with the blood of elves. The taste of blood whipped them into a death frenzy, the spells hurled by the cloud walking silvers having no effect on them. Beams of ice explode off of them, repelled by the dragon’s aura of magic. The screams of both elves and green-skinned orcs filled the air at a new level of intensity, as dragonfear drove them into a panic and the dragons tore into them without regard for alliances. Blood and bone filled the air, as both elves and orcs spilled their blood, and lost their organs to each swipe of dragon claw. The eves and orcs broke and ran; forgetting their blood-hatred and retreating before mutually assured destruction.
At this point, tied from the fight, the half-dragons had retreated to the back, no longer able to fl from sheer exhaustion.
Sylvaneth circled the battle, tossing spells into the now unoccupied reds. A ball of crackling ice formed at his claw tips and flew toward one of the smaller ones. It stuck, and overwhelmed by the spell, the young red was frozen solid. A scream not even escaping his jaw.
A ball of flames whizzed down at him. Looking back, he sees his old nemesis Vernraz.
I see you have been given a command!" He sneered, as he took evasive action. Pulling a wingover he turned to face his opponent.
"He’s mine!" They both called simultaneously, as they shot toward each other. Both unleashed their breath weapons, Sylvaneth a cone of ice. Vernraz a gout of flame. Each canceled out upon impact with the other. They veered off seconds before collision.
Below them, and above them, the other dragons watched. Their sense of honor preventing them from interfering, as the two great wyrms continued their elaborate Ariel ballet.
Sylvaneth glided toward the ground allowing his enemy to chase him. He then quickly flapped downward, halting his forward movement and moving straight up. With his opponent below him, he landed on Vernraz's back, and viciously bit into his neck. He tasted blood as his teeth penetrated scales, and bit deep into dragon flesh. He then used his claws and tore into the reds wings. Unable to support himself and Sylvaneth with injured wings, they both glided toward the ground and their massive weight hit the blood-covered snow with an earth-shaking thud.
The two dragons, both covered with gallons of blood. rose to meet each other n melee one more. They clashed n a writhing mass of scales, teeth and claws. Both silver and red scales flew, mixed with blood as Vernraz tore into Sylvaneth's side with is claws Sylvaneth countered by latching onto Vernraz's throat and pinning him down. Using his claws on his pinned opponent Vernraz as quickly eviscerated in a shower of entrails, and blood. His dying scream carried for hundred of miles.
The shocked red dragons, where easy prey for the silvers that came shrieking from the clouds, easily freezing the confused and disoriented reds in a torrent of ice.
The battle was won. But the war was far from over…
