Orange and gold flames licked the black night sky as screams and the clash of metal rang out into the distance for all to hear. The distinct smell of gunpowder filled the air, overpowering the scent of all the fire was consuming. Rank and file soldiers populated the open field, on one side, there were lines of uniform men and women, dressed in Napoleonic armour with a gas mask on their face and a Brodie Helmet on their head. Their normally shining silver chest pieces had been obscured by the black smoke of their muskets, constantly firing shots into the opposing force, seeming as if they were vehemently defending the city that lay behind them. On the other hand, there was a recently advancing force although they had seemed to come to a standstill. All the soldiers would be able to smell was the damp and sweaty steel of every combatant's weapon. Most of the force was hiding behind a front line of shields, the ones at the front wearing helmets with considerably larger plate armour than those behind them. Of course not everybody was going to be wearing armour designed to tank hits though, as you moved back from the frontline, their defences got lighter and lighter, until you reached the leather plating of the soldiers at the back, armed with bows. It all seemed fairly standard at first although something was off. A lot of the soldiers seemed to be conjuring things. The arrows littered the sky with a mesmerising golden light, almost as if it were a divine flame. Most swords were coated in it too although that wasn’t the main concern of most, what really seemed to be taking centre stage was the two men standing between the opposing forces.
One was clad in heavy armour, it constantly expelled steam and made him look at least 8 feet tall. The whole suit appeared almost like a huge robot, a mech even. Its bronze and copper paint had been chipped in a lot of places, revealing the steel beneath although oddly, not a dent had been made. Shining arrows continued to hammer against it although it hadn’t even seemed to notice them as, one by one, they pinged off with a dissatisfying dink noise, the flame hissing out as the projectiles flopped to the ground. Opposing this seemingly invincible behemoth, was just one man. He was not clad in armour, instead he wore light and breathable robes. A white shirt sat underneath his sky blue cloak, its gold and black triangular patterns showing on some of the edges. His forest green eyes narrowed as he looked towards the monster facing him, gripping the ornate shield and sword in his hand. The goliath laughed. It was a distorted and mechanical laugh, emanating an aura of cockiness and superiority. “Well ah never, they really sent someone small like you to stop me, hell they didn’t even give you armour! Is this how they get ridda you guys in Zenesea?”
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The blonde man chuckled slightly, his expression not wavering “No, oddly I was thinking something similar, it’s generally seen as a death sentence, sending somebody to fight ‘The Draco Knight’.”
Immediately, the man in the suit grimaced. Of course it wasn’t visible through his helmet though the blood red glow of the eyes intensified somewhat. “Bah, Draco Knight? Sounds like a kid’s crayon drawin’, what d’ya even do? Breathe fire to light a match?”
“Oh I can assure you, it is much more interesting. Alaric, come.” As soon as the words left his mouth, an earsplitting roar could be heard as the Zenesean’s hair flew wildly in the now billowing winds. They were clearly coming from a certain direction though, as if something was making them. A lot of people looked North, behind the man and the sight that greeted them caused a riot. Some were jumping, punching the air and cheering, others stood with their mouths open and a fair few were scared for their lives. What met their gaze was a behemoth, flying hastily to the two at the centre. A pair of enormous wings sat on its back, constantly beating and carrying it towards the one who called. As it got closer, it slowed, eventually stopping just behind the man and hovering. Its tail lowered, eventually drooping down and exposing a scaled stomach. An orange glow emanated from each of the cracks in its armour, running all the way up its neck and down its tail, seeming to be culminating in the ferocious, magma-coloured eyes on its head. The Ember Dragon, Alaric was here and the armoured man couldn’t have been more shocked. “O-oh, it’s you, the summoner knight. S-sir Galahad right? They warned me ‘bout ya.”
Galahad smirked slightly “Well, I’d expect no less, I imagine that armour has properties to resist my own powers then. What a pain, would you like to give it a test Al?” The dragon didn’t even hesitate, it didn’t nod or snort or anything, no, instead it opened its mouth, a ball of flame forming in it. The bronze giant turned, shielding his face and chest, curling up, and rightly so. An explosion rang out, so loud that it could have even shook the heavens as the ball of flames had shot forward, its scorching heat reaching for miles as it slammed against Galahad's opponent and caused a cloud of smoke to shoot up around him. The Draco Knight sighed, dusting his hands off. “Well, that’s that I guess.”
He was about to turn away and allow for the rest of the forces to proceed although, as he began to brush the soot and ash off his sleeves, there was a shout. Dirt and the charred remains of a field were thrown away to reveal something. At first they were only glowing red dots although, as the smoke cleared a charred suit of silver armour, hunched over and glaring at Galahad. Took their place. “That all?”