As the battle-scarred city of Ashmark slowly calms, the ground trembles with the thunderous arrival of an immense wyvern, erupting from the lava flows of Mount Emberglass. This beast, twice the size of any wyvern seen before, stretches its immense wings, scattering ash and fire in its wake as it descends upon the city's heart. It lets out a deafening roar, igniting terror as people scramble for safety.
At the center of the chaos stands Kodlak Bjorn Whitemane, a towering figure of muscle and grit, watching calmly as others flee past him. His presence is an immovable wall against the tide of panic—a powerful guardian with a white beard, arms like tree trunks, and eyes fierce as a wolf’s in the night. His formidable shield, forged in Ystremore from ætherial metal, nullifies all magic, gleams darkly on his arm. In his right hand, he grips a massive battle axe that looks capable of cleaving mountains. Unshaken, he locks eyes with the wyvern, whose fiery gaze meets his with an instinctual unease. This was no ordinary human. Kodlak's challenge rings clear as he takes a step forward.
The wyvern snarls, flames spilling from its maw. It lowers its neck, inhaling deeply to unleash a molten torrent, but Kodlak braces himself, raising his enchanted shield. When the fiery deluge meets his defense, the flames scatter in a searing spray, yet Kodlak stands unharmed as the inferno is absorbed into the shield’s dark sheen. The wyvern falters, its fiery eyes narrowing in confusion.
Seeing his chance, Kodlak charges, each step a quake beneath his heavy boots. The wyvern, recovering from its surprise, strikes downward with a massive, razor-sharp claw. Kodlak raises his shield, blocking the blow with a resounding crash, and in a single swift motion, counters with his axe. He drives it deep into the creature’s armored chest. Though its scales are dense as stone, the wyvern’s armor cracks under the force, and it lets out a furious shriek.
With a violent twist, Kodlak slams his shield across the wyvern’s skull, splintering one of its twisted horns in the process. Reeling, the beast lets out another roar, this one charged with crackling energy as it summons a thunderous bolt, lightning surging from its maw. Kodlak stands firm, watching the flash of blinding light with unyielding resolve, and braces as the bolt meets his shield. The ætherial metal disperses the lightning harmlessly around him, sparks illuminating Kodlak like a god of war. The wyvern hesitates again, for just a moment, and Kodlak charges forward, axe swinging.
Realizing its chances on the ground are limited, the wyvern stretches its wings, catching the heated winds and lifting itself with great beats into the air. But as it ascends, it feels a weight on its tail: Kodlak has seized hold, his iron grip latched onto its hide. With an outraged screech, the wyvern thrashes, attempting to shake him off as it climbs higher. Kodlak hangs on, pulling himself up with brutal strength, as the city and battlefield fall away beneath him.
With a grunt, Kodlak manages to swing himself onto the wyvern's back, steadying himself against the shifting scales. Using his axe, he strikes viciously into the creature's hide, each blow causing the wyvern to twist and shriek. Enraged, the wyvern tries a barrel roll, flipping in the air in a desperate attempt to throw Kodlak off. For a moment, he loses his grip, tumbling into open air. But in a split-second of terrifying clarity, he spots the creature's incoming head as it dives to finish him.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
With an explosion of raw strength, Kodlak raises his axe and brings it down with unstoppable force as they meet. The blade strikes the wyvern across the face, sending it reeling as the impact forces them both earthward. Kodlak braces himself as they plummet, the wind roaring past, his eyes locked onto the beast with grim determination. They crash to the ground, the impact sending a tremor through Ashmark, and Kodlak lands with a controlled roll, rising to his feet in a fluid motion.
The wyvern lies stunned, dazed and struggling to rise. Kodlak strides forward, his shadow towering over the prone beast. He swings his axe one last time, the blade coming down hard upon the wyvern’s skull, cracking its bony crest. With a final snarl, the wyvern tries to lurch forward, but Kodlak drives his axe deeper, splitting the bone with a sound that echoes across the silent battlefield. With a mighty twist, he plants a heavy boot on the wyvern’s head and slams the weapon fully into its skull, crushing the life from the beast with a satisfying crunch.
The massive creature falls still, its life snuffed out by a warrior who stood unyielding against nature's fury. As the dust settles, the awe-struck soldiers and citizens of Ashmark emerge, looking upon their unbreakable defender in silent admiration.
The revelation of the Phalanx’s strength sends shockwaves across the land, reshaping the political landscape and sparking admiration, fear, and envy. As the Grandmaster Grandil and his fellow masters of the College survey the destruction and remnants of Kodlak’s battle with the massive wyvern, they are filled with a humbling sense of awe. The sight of Kodlak—this supposed relic of an era long past—stretching like an ordinary elder, his battle prowess proven beyond question, leaves the once-confident mages struck silent.
Rumors quickly circulate, reaching far and wide. For those who’d underestimated the Phalanx, or even dismissed them as relics bound by an outdated treaty, this display shatters any illusion of weakness. Merodach, a dark sorcerer of formidable power, and his ally Vargath, hear of their soldiers’ retreat and the sheer, brutal efficiency of the Phalanx. Fear takes root in Merodach’s heart, an emotion unfamiliar to him but unavoidable. He realizes the Phalanx members, bound by loyalty and unmatched in skill, are no ordinary soldiers—and even among them, Kodlak is a force that demands respect. The fact that Aethyr shares blood with Kodlak only intensifies Merodach's dread, especially as Aethyr’s growing skill in both magic and martial prowess makes him a singular threat: a warrior with mastery in both realms and a spirit unclouded by fear.
Desperate to maintain control and counterbalance the might of the Phalanx, Merodach begins to weave a new plan. He cannot afford to let Aethyr’s ascent continue unchecked, nor risk his faction's standing when the treaty expires. The sorcerer’s mind churns with schemes to isolate and weaken Aethyr before he becomes a force capable of rivaling even the greatest masters of the realm.
Meanwhile, news of Kodlak and the Phalanx’s victory rallies the hearts of the people. Nobles, merchants, and townsfolk alike begin sending supplies, fresh recruits, and rations to aid in the struggle against the monstrous threat. It becomes clear that the battle to defend the land against the encroaching beasts will not be fought by the Phalanx alone; they are now backed by a united front fortified by newfound loyalty and admiration.
Aethyr, aware of the mounting expectations and the weight of his family’s legacy, must now confront a looming question: to stop the horde of Snallygasters from spawning, he must push deeper into the dungeon, facing unimaginable dangers on his own journey. In the shadow of his grandfather's deeds, he finds new resolve—not merely to fight for survival but to secure a future where neither he nor the Phalanx can ever be underestimated again.