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Continued Events of the 17th of Slate.
Lor shrieked. The roaring voice in her head was strong, and it promised freedom from its words if she would merely fulfill a minor task.
All she had to do to be free of its touch, she was sure, was destroy the warriors who defended this place.
For one such as she, surely that would be easy.
She shrieked again, though it sounded like a roar, and took to the skies, gliding slowing towards her target with determination.
On the ground, Bomrek watched the mighty dragon slowly glide towards the fort. The fort was empty right now, however, and she stood in the fortress courtyard, weapon drawn.
"Where is everyone?" she wondered aloud, risking a glance around for her comrades, wary of the dragon growing ever nearer.
A question answered only moments later by the Captain emerging from the fort itself, and Viktoria and Darktongue emerging from the Trade Depot.
Captain Ironblood risked a look above him as the Dragon soared overhead.
BurnedToast and the farmer Vabok, the hero Doren's son, screamed as it approached, murder glinting in its eyes.
Ironblood joined Bomrek, standing ready at her side in the face of the beast.
"She's big." he noted.
"She is." replied Bomrek, nodding ever so slightly.
They were totally shrouded in its shadow.
Adalore had by now emerged, and joined the group of himself, Doren, Darktongue and Viktoria racing towards them.
Fear and lust for battle gleamed in their eyes as the dragon landed before the two Captains, slashing unsuccessfully at Bomrek, who conveniently placed herself someplace else.
But Lor was smarter than that, and smacked Bomrek to the ground with a lash of her tail, before turning to her with her talons.
Bomrek was unable to get to her feet, merely rolling back at every strike made.
Ironblood managed to bury his axe in the dragon's arm, but was immediately thrown aside in favour of continued attacks on Bomrek.
Bomrek managed to get to her feet, and dodged one of the Dragon's blows, allowing her to get the opening she needed.
She flew at the dragon as though she had wings of her own, grabbing hold of it and pulling it off its feet.
She crashed to the ground with it, allowing Ironblood to take a strike at it, slashing through its soft underbelly into its guts.
Lor didn't look so good after this, and stumbled away in shock, only to find Ironblood would not relent. Again he slashed at the soft underbelly, and again he found soft gut to slash.
"AHA!" he shouted, "It's my mantlepiece for you!"
The dragon merely hissed in response, too angry to care what this tiny creature had to say.
Adalore had just arrived on the scene when the Dragon once more burst into flight, landing a short distance away, only to find Ironblood barrelling into her once again.
It was mere moments before the entire Nist Akathian military was on top of her, cutting away at her, causing a thousand minor cuts, from which her blood flowed relentlessly.
In the end, the dwarves were still hacking at her body as she died from bloodloss. An ignoble death, some might say, for such a fearsome creature.
Up on top of the Hammer Tower, the Acolyte watched with interest.
Her God's most prized pet lay dead in the snow. Despite the power he had placed in it, it had done no good.
It was the Acolyte's chance then. If she could prove that she could turn this military to rubble, she would have a place at her god's side forevermore.
If not... it would mean excruciating death and eternal torture.
She decided that she mustn't fail, but could hardly help but feel discouraged by the sight of the fallen dragon.
Strength hadn't worked. Stealth hadn't worked, in the case of the goblin ambushes. Maybe cunning would.