“Daniel!” Three of those assembled exclaimed when he entered the command room, in addition to one “Guy!”
“Where’s Claire?” Evalyn asked.
Daniel steeled himself and looked to the horizon. If he didn’t see her… No, her aura remained. He felt it safe to breathe again. “Tlara took her wyverns and left. I only just managed to get her on one before that. Hunter ran after them.”
“You didn’t,” Lograve observed. “No time to catch up. We have a dragon to kill.”
“I don’t think we can kill Rorshawd,” Daniel cut in. Lograve gave him a look that didn’t even necessitate a mental follow up.
“Yes, Daniel’s ability has revealed this to be a unique creature. A named creature,” Lograve covered quickly, charging over anyone who asked questions. “Among its abilities, we expect it possesses Regeneration, some form of telekinesis, and the ability to mark and follow creatures. As we are all aware.” Mark Weakness had faded after the first minute of the dragon’s attack, but it had left a reminder that they were being hunted.
“Level five Regeneration.” Yedra grimaced. The woman was a far cry from the one that had nearly assaulted Lograve. Dragon attacks tended to be sobering. “How can we put it down with that? Even the Eido garrison would need time and resources to prepare to fight a normal dragon of this level.”
“We begin by fortifying this tower. Continue having the Builders seal windows and anything else fire can easily penetrate.” That clued Daniel into the sections of the wall that looked like hidden doors in a video game. The shade of color on them was slightly off. “We could try waiting until dawn for some of us to recover, but I don’t like our chances. I’ve killed a dragon before and it cost more than I’d ever be willing to give. Hopefully, some of the ballista will-”
“They’re gone.” Daniel didn’t even look, or question what Lograve meant by killing a dragon. He knew how many were left. The rate of destruction had been constant, regular enough that Quick Mind enabled something like a timer in his mind. That had run out a minute ago. A glance earlier had told him the dragon was now torching the interior of the city, working its way towards the keep. It only touched occupied buildings. It only needed to. “God.”
“We’ll need more than one, Guy,” Thomas said sadly.
“Swarm tactics.” Gadriel coughed, still injured from fighting fifty or so monsters at once though a healer was doing what she could. “An all or nothing assault. Sir Kob and I can lead the charge. Every man, woman, and gestalt united to end this monstrosity. The Bards might even deign to honor our deaths with a light reverie.”
“How do we force it to the ground?” One of the garrison asked. “It ate through our ballista, we’re not taking it down unless we can get on top of it!”
“It’s just going to burn all of us up!” The conversation was getting out of control. No one Daniel knew was losing their resolve, but then again they’d fought monsters before. The only thing some of these people had done was fire at one from very far away.
“Kob is our only chance.” The air grew cold around Lograve, flecks of ice shining off of torchlight. “Though I can offer significant aid. You can all thank the Octyrrum for Aquakinesis, as I can blunt fire damage around me.”
“How much?” Yedra caught one of the specks and watched it melt in her hand.
“Maybe enough to prevent death from the indirect effects of the breath. I figured this out to combat other fire-type creatures, but never thought I’d be using it against a dragon.” Lograve flexed his hands as the ice melted. “Takes up about all of my concentration, though, and the moisture in the air won’t survive too long against that kind of fire.”
“How many others here possess powers that aid others?” Gadriel asked Yedra. “We would do well to coordinate.”
“I don’t know who made it here.” Yedra grimaced. “It happened so fast.”
Daniel began rattling off names, almost too fast to be discernible. The dragon was moving closer. Some were fleeing, some were fighting, but everyone outside the keep was dying. Those weren’t the ones he named. Rather than think about those left out, Yedra or another just followed up each name by saying a class and helpful powers.
It wasn’t much. Another Bard, a Martialist that improved the aim of those nearby, and a half dozen near useless buffs like resisting cold weather. Parduc, at least, could fortify the armor of allies.
Appraised of their numbers and skills, the rest of the plan was rapidly made. “We must assume it knows where we are at all times,” Lograve commented. “Stealth will be as useful as extinguishing its flames with buckets of water. We let Kob advance out of the entrance and support them.”
“Aren’t gestalt weak to fire?” A question from the crowd.
“Stone Form, along with the inherent resistance one obtains from high endurance. Kob is the only one who can take the dragon’s fire directly and survive. We must count on this and use it as our opportunity. Strike at the wings to knock it out of the sky and help Kob pull it down.”
“Inflictive songs could help with that.” An avianoid with feathers that were practically pastel in their reds, greens, and blues commented from the back. He was the other Bard. His instrument was some kind of metallic horn, but the mouthpiece was wide and indented. It looked like the he had to bite down on it to play, which made more sense than him playing a trumpet.
There was a wary look in Evalyn’s eyes. “It’s level five. How are we supposed to influence it?”
Instant tension formed between the two, ice layering onto the snow bank of condensed anxiety that pervaded the room. The Bards had drawn themselves into a side conversation Daniel found himself listening to more closely than the rest of the planning. “Maybe its defenses to our powers are weaker?” The bird took a deep, unsteady breath, and continued, “If we play together-”
“Absolutely not. You’re level two, you’d be more useful using those songs on your own.”
“I’d rather add to each other’s work than subtract from it.”
“Not a chance.” Evalyn left the room with gritted teeth and clenched fists. What just happened? Daniel could only half understand what they were talking about. He looked between the departing Bard and the strategic debate. He wanted to follow her, but what was happening here was important. He couldn’t follow her. He should stay and help plan. That was the rational choice.
And yet Daniel walked out of the room. The meeting was important, yes, but he wasn’t. He had a connection to the events, having been Rorshawd’s unwitting host, but the one to slay the dragon wouldn’t be him. Even his ability to keep track of the dragon wasn’t too helpful. It was large enough for others in the group with detection powers to keep a bead on it through the walls and Rorshawd wasn't trying to be stealthy anymore.
Thomas caught up to him just as Daniel did Evalyn. “What’re you doing, Guy?”
“Following her.” Daniel inclined his head and the Bard spoke up.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“I need to be focused, and I can’t be in the same room as that feathered ass.”
“Heh. You ever get along with another Bard?” Thomas asked. “I don’t know that much about your class but it seems like it’d be better not to be at each other’s throats?”
“That’s not-” Evalyn grunted lightly and grew frustrated. “I know the perceptions of our class. Normally it's fine, it's, ugh!”
“What did he say that irritated you?” Daniel asked.
“Inflictive songs. I don’t like them. To me, it’s playing poorly at the enemy instead of well for your friends.”
“So if the bird had suggested one of those?” Thomas was more curious than Daniel in this instance, and least afraid of the coming fight of everyone in the keep.
“We would have argued over which song to play,” she answered airily as if a toddler had asked her about calculus while she had a migraine. “It never works. There are plenty of stories about Bards coming together in times of crisis, sure, but to a one whatever forms will break up over the first disagreement.” Evalyn stopped, having reached her destination.
The main entrance of the keep was the only space large enough to hold Kob. Even then, the giant stretched across the walls and gave the room a deep jungle atmosphere. The majority of the garrison not with Yedra was here, including Parduc who almost trampled Thomas to get to Daniel. “Claire, where is she?”
“Safe, she got out of the city,” Daniel reassured him, the Builder’s wide shoulders dropping in relief. Parduc was wearing two layers of armor that exaggerated the gesture. Stone encased his normal garb in an added layer centimeters thick. Parduc clasped him on the shoulder and stone climbed its way up to grant him the same benefit.
“Thanks. That’s a worry off my mind. You next.” He reached towards Thomas and Daniel noticed the rest of the garrison here was wearing the same stone suits.
“Do you have the mana for all of us?” Evalyn asked.
“Well gorgeous, unless you think a gazebo’s what we need to kill a dragon, it’s not like I need it for anything else.” Parduc tapped her on the shoulder to give her the effect. “When do we fight?”
“Lograve and the others are coming down,” Daniel reported using his wall hacks. “The dragon’s-” He spun around twice to be sure. He couldn’t say it unless he was sure. “Everyone else is dead. It’s coming here.”
“How much time do we have?” Lograve began to ask, just missing what Daniel said as he led the group from upstairs. They’d left only a minute after Daniel had. Still, the look on the Artificer’s face told him everything. Were Murdon here he’d no doubt use the time to give a speech on overcoming the odds and relentless determination. If there was a chance Lograve would have tried that too, there just wasn’t time for anything but straight orders. He cleared his throat.
“Here is the plan. Kob advances with anyone level two or higher and melee specialized. Magic-focused classes in the center, anyone else that can fire a bow holds the door and targets that damn thing's wings. If you see an opening, try to shelter in adjacent buildings. Above all, stay spread out. Kob, we need you to ground it. I don’t care how, but knock it out of the sky.” That was it. Nothing on what would happen when they did land the dragon if half of them died to dragonfire before that was achieved, or if people started running instead of fighting. This wasn’t a fight with the luxury of days or hours to agonize over projections and maps. There was just something to kill and something to die for.
…
Rorshawd cut the stream of fire. His latest victims had attempted to flee, unaware that he could see them at all times. They’d made it about a few blocks before he’d incinerated them and a good portion of the street. Then, he turned towards the center of Roost’s Peak where the last mortals cowered. A handful had managed to escape, making it outside of the city. They could be hunted down once he was finished here. The auras he’d placed on them weren’t going anywhere. The dragon had also taken enough time clearing the rest of the city. No more grace would be extended to those behind the fortifications.
In truth, he might have started there once destroying the ballista. It would have prevented them from congregating in such large numbers, but Rorshawd had two reasons for delaying. One, he wanted to test his new body and the powers from it on weaker enemies. Fighting the gestalt would require actual effort. Though he had been given an innate understanding of his new form upon transformation, that did not equate to experience. Second, massed mortals only made his fire breath that much more effective. Disappointingly, the ability did use a good deal of mana. Rorshawd felt more than knew that this new body, no matter how awe and terror inspiring, was not fully matured.
That was good. Rorshawd could only imagine what growing stronger would grant him, but that also meant he could not be as brazen with his fire as he had at first been. At least one, perhaps two uses would be needed to finish Kob once their defenses had been destroyed. It was time to test out his claws. As for the rest? The blessing of his Lord had granted Rorshawd many things, but omniscience was not one of them. The dragon knew that, with his level, destroying the forty odd mortals should be easy, but their kind had a way of leveraging their powers to upset an otherwise indomitable opponent. Had he not his, and Daniel’s, powers he would have never attacked Roost’s Peak to begin with. Not until he was stronger.
Instead, he had his own edge. Heightened Regeneration had already fixed most of the damage the bolts had done. A few clung to his flesh like quills though they were being slowly pushed out by the feature. Like his flame breath, improving Regeneration to a useful level had been expensive but worth it. Rorshawd did not have Daniel’s Focus, or his own which the damned mortal now wore around his neck, and could not make use of Encyclopedia. Oddly he still had access to all the powers, even though the lack of a Focus should lock them. Rorshawd didn’t want or need to think about that.
The extra powers on top of what being a dragon gave him had made the killing so easy. That, and the callousness with which Rorshawd now regarded mortal life. It wasn’t exactly a new development, there had been no hesitation in carrying out the plan to destroy Eido and everyone within. Having the power of a dragon just removed the need to care about people entirely. Besides, the Lord had ordained their deaths.
Not even the arrogance born from his transformation had changed how Rorshawd revered the ancient one. The Lord’s power and station were unquestionable. It was, right? The dragon landed on a building, cracking the stone with the force. In the back of his mind, Rorshawd sensed something was wrong. The hole in his memory. No, the holes.
There had been a gap between his Communion and awakening as a dragon, of course. To his disappointment, it had been long enough for Daniel to flee. There was something else he hadn’t considered, however. The delay between Eido’s destruction and his awakening within the Artificer’s body. The realization had taken time, and the ability to think clearly that Rorshawd hadn’t had until after reincarnating in this form. Why had his Lord only rewarded him? What of the others? And why did he have to suffer in the body of another before it would come to this?
Was it because of the Communion? Perhaps. That thought didn’t stop the planting of doubt in Rorshawd’s mind. His Lord was a god. Why had it chosen him? Another of the conspiracy, in this form, would have been unstoppable with their greater array of powers. Had it chosen him at all, or had he conveniently been there to use? If the Lord had not saved him from the Upswell, had not planned for the Communion, who had?
The so called gods of the Octyrrum were false. What the Spiritualists had done to Eido could not be survived. This was the spoken word of the Lord, assured to them! And yet, it conflicted with reality. True, Rorshawd had been rewarded beyond any measure he could have dreamed. Did the Lord have a choice in that, though? These thoughts troubled the dragon, and he was wasting time. No matter his uncertainty, the mortals needed to die. He knew this in his bones. The dogma he had been taught was now replaced with the instinctual certainty that mortal kind was a blight to this world. They, and all their works, must be razed and the dust swept away.
Rorshawd was less than a minute’s flight from the keep. He resumed his course. The dark, draconic eyes gleamed as he saw the tower’s door opening. They were coming out to fight him. That would save the trouble of peeling away the walls of stone, though he flew faster despite this. Fighting in the courtyard favored Rorshawd unless they were able to spread out to the surrounding buildings. He was one engine of destruction against about 40 armed mice. Nominally the fight was already over, but being surrounded, and with the unpredictability of all of those power sets put Rorshawd slightly on edge.
The gestalt, Kob, was leading the charge against him. Rorshawd was too far to use his fire now, but his roar. His roar! How had he not ushered a deafening challenge when first descending on this city? It wasn’t just noise that the dragon unleashed on the mortals taking the courtyard, but an ability. More mana slipped from him in a burst detectable by anyone nearby, empowering the concussive force of his bellowing with a magical effect. Rorshawd watched with glee as several began to run. Their loose formation, spread to minimize the number of targets he could hit with flame breath, was turning into chaos. This would be no trouble at-
He was seconds away from true engagement range when the fear his roar had caused faded. Several of those who resisted the effect could cleanse it from the rest. Rorshawd roared again in frustration, though this one was only noise as he learned his empowered roar had a cooldown. Frustration and murder roiled in his mind as primal fury sparked and ignited toward those who would deny him. Rorshawd was a dragon. He was undeniable. He was undefeatable. He would kill everything here and level the stone until the earth was just a charred flat piece of rock. Mana turned his rage into fire, and the dragon let it loose upon the world once more.