Starting around the year 150 PGW, dragons started to bury their eggs in wastelands and uninhabitable locations to protect them. Although the egg does not have to be watched to hatch, and some can take even a millennium to hatch, it was declared that by year 500 PGW, dragons were effectively extinct. The last known sighting happened in 392PGW.
- Excerpt from “The Greatest of Monsters.” Written sometime in the 6th century
Iliyal Tremali stood before Arascus in the war-room back in the headquarters of the cult. Daganhoff, Lady Daganhoff now, Narma, Alash, all the high-ranking members. And Arascus in his throne, the God being twice the size of most humans. He was half-again Tremali’s height and Iliyal was proud of his height. “An explanation General.” Arascus’ voice boomed as everyone in the room stared at the elf, even his own assistants behind him. Their eyes were resigned with pity. It was comical, none of them knew Arascus as well as Iliyal did.
The elf took a step forward, saluted, and stood like a soldier in his uniform. Black leather boots, the fur coat he taken brought from the east, the only change he had made to the outfit was swapped out the shirts. His sword hung on his belt, his rifle was slung over his shoulder. “I will start from the beginning.” Iliyal said as he cracked the tension in the room.
The explanation was short and simple. Fer’s beastmen had ran into him on the training, they had been attracted by the noise of gunfire and explored out of mere curiosity. Then they had told him what was happening, how many cults there were and so on. “I decided that the soldiers needed a taste of live combat to make sure they knew what it was like to actually shoot at people, rather than just targets.” Iliyal explained. “So I took two hundred of the best soldiers and went towards the location the beastmen had indicated.”
He looked around the war room. Bright fluorescent lights only made the steel walls seem colder than they were, and the expressions on everyone but Arascus himself were as if death had walked into the room. “That is the reasoning.” Iliyal said confidently. Arascus wasn’t the Goddess of Order, there was hierarchy under him yes, but that hierarchy was only for the plebs. Those who excelled, the God himself would be proud to have stand at his side.
Arascus leaned back on his huge chair and nodded. The man’s blue eyes focused on Iliyal, his dark hair flowing down his back, simply a black suit his dress of choice. It was simple, but they didn’t run a kingdom or a country yet. It was shameful to pretend to be an Emperor of dirt. “So…” The God’s voice boomed across the table, he extended his arms to indicate to the rest of the people in the room. “Explain yourself so everyone can understand, briefly. What was the damage?”
Iliyal wanted to laugh. The message was simple, he had done something completely unprecedented that needed to be explained away so that the rest of the members would not suddenly start getting ideas about sidestepping the hierarchy in place. “We lost thirty-three soldiers. Another twenty died from wounds after the battle, sixteen have major injuries but are in stable condition. Sixty or so are wounded lightly, cuts and bruises, they’ll be back in training after two weeks.”
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“So you lost a quarter of the soldiers you took?” One of the humans asked, Klichov. Iliyal didn’t bother to learn his first name, it was an obviously just a fellow who needed to fill the position of Master Logistician until someone talented was found to replace him.
“Considering the forces we were up against, I would say that was more than a good trade.” Iliyal didn’t even turn to the man, he spoke directly to Arascus. “The combat examination to discover the deficiencies of the Alash-One would have been worth it even if all two hundred men died.”
“I concur with Iliyal.” Mikhail Alash spoke up and raised his hand. “If the gun did not work in combat situations, it would be better to discover that now than after we manufacture a million of them.”
“After counting the bodies, the Guguoans sent a total of three thousand member to the dot. Fifty sects, sixty members each. We did have support from Fer and her beastmen, but I am more than confident to say that the two hundred men I brought made the pivotal difference.”
“What about the drones circling Fer?” Arascus asked.
“I shot them down.” Iliyal said. “They were flying close to the ground to monitor the battle. A creation of a dedicated anti-air gun is one of my suggestions.”
“Certain things can be built upon.” Mikhail said. “But range and the ability to shoot up, that’s largely the propellant at this point. I’m no chemist.” Iliyal already had a suggestion planned and written down, but if the man was asking now, then he might as well answer.
“Then we need a larger model. It could be mounted on a vehicle. I have suggestions written down on how to improve the gun, it will be in your office by the time this meeting ends.” Iliyal turned back to Arascus as the engineer nodded gratefully. “More importantly, two strategic objectives were completed.”
“And those are?”
“One, Fer was saved from the Great Hunt. The Guguoans will think twice before sending another expedition, the only fear is that Maisara, Fortia, Elassa, Zerus or Allasaria come to try and kill her.”
“What about Atis? Isn’t he the Lord of the Hunt?” Klichov asked. His voice was innocuous, but he was obviously trying to put a damper on Iliyal’s success. The elf didn’t know what exactly he did to annoy the fellow so much, but he didn’t particularly care, if Klichov wanted to hate, then so be it.
“That is strategic objective two.” Iliyal indicated for one of his assistants to step forward. The human put the bag on the table and Iliyal sent hi m away again. “There’s a saying among the Pantheon nowadays; Can a mortal kill a God?”
“No, never happened, never will.” Arascus finished for him. Iliyal smiled started to undo the bag and the God raised an eyebrow.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, that statement is wrong.” He pulled the head out of the brown bag. “This is the proof of its falsity.” The Gold-brown locks of Atis had grown dry and started to grey, his skin was stretched, his cheeks hollow, but the size alone could only mean one thing. He was holding the head of a God. “Atis, God of the Hunt, has been slain!” There was something deep within Iliyal that wanted to scream the words out in pride.
Iliyal had saved the news until now and it brought the effect he wanted. The room froze as if winter had just seeped in, people even held their breathes. Only the faint hum of the light above saved them from total silence. It took a few seconds, but finally, life returned.
Arascus’ slow clap. One. Twice. Thrice. Then someone joined in. And another. And another.
From stunned silence to excited cacophony, Iliyal basked in the wordless praise.