KNOWLEDGE OF THE BEAST
"Of the draconic kindreds, the first and greatest, the true dragons, are invincible: none have been slain. They make their lairs in mountaintops by melting caverns in the hardest of stone, and even sorcerers melt like wax in their flames.
Of the lesser draconids, not all are known to me, but of those that are – the firedrakes, dracolithes, wyrms, and infernal salamanders – all can be vanquished.
The fifth, the wyvern, is no natural creature, but a construct of sorcery, crafted in emulation of a true dragon. I was among the keepers of these hellish beasts. The sorcerers who breed them covet the arcane potency of the heart and blood of dragons, and seek to create a substitute, layering innumerable enchantments upon some lesser draconid to construct the purest monster possible, aspiring to forge a being so transcendent that its blood will echo the grandeur of a true dragon.
The wyvern that lies ahead is the masterpiece of Voua Azrain. Fed on the heart and blood of Ulto, it is a devourer of tigers and of warriors, a foe so vicious and nearly invincible that Ulto warned it must be destroyed, lest it grow impossible to kill. But Voua Azrain, half mad, his mind dripping in ascending starlight, commanded that the wyvern must live, even if it should consume his apprentice at last.
Against this monster, I will arm you with all the knowledge I have. She is called Azaocratz. She is a juvenile, sixty-three pounds, seven cubits from teeth to lash. Her fire is not inexhaustible, but will more than suffice to burn every one of us to cinders. Do not rely on your armor against her teeth; even the plate mail of tiger-riders has cracked within her jaws. Do not shatter your weapons against her eyes; they are diamond. If she has a weakness, it is that beneath her scales, her viscera are only twice as rugged as those of any other beast; if you can thrust a weapon down her throat, do so.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Cusáhn, that spark-edged sword is our greatest chance. Rokál, do not trust your crescent blade to sever her enchantments; they are laced beneath her scales, and her scales have been perfected by Ulto, who has the power of weaving flesh; there is nothing magical about them; they are like tempered steel.
Here, then, is how the slaying must be carried out: first we will attempt stealth, but that will surely fail; her senses of hearing and scent are keen. She will take to the air and strafe us with fire. Vivict, you must harpoon her vulnerable wings and drag her to the ground; then Cusáhn—put her to the sword.
The rest of you, draw her attention if you have the courage, though most likely you will not. Few warriors indeed, in the presence of so perfect a draconid, can avoid becoming transfixed with dread; and fewer still can force themselves to advance.
Should Vivict or Cusáhn fail in courage, others must take up their vital arms. But if those two can fight, the rest must keep them alive: fire on Azaocratz with bows and arrows scavenged from the dead slaves here, for even if you have no skill at archery, you may draw her wrath."
After hearing this speech, the comrades rise from the water and equip themselves for the fight. Bows and quivers are gathered from the slain for Rokál, Cusáhn, Harrin, and Tzark, while Viványa straps on a scimitar to replace a throwing axe she lost. Meanwhile UrokYann takes two swords and the largest bow.
Thusly prepared, the seven advance toward the archway of a jungle gate, entrance to the lair of the beast.