Silver Dragon Breath - fantasy writings by Syrobe and members.

    Gloran reined in her blue dragon mount, more with her mind then the actually physical reins. The rest of her squadron was still breaking camp, but years as a Dragonrider had broken Gloran into being able to set up, and break a camp quickly.
    Dragonriders, the pride of Nothonian civilization, every child wished to be one, every civilian, to marry one, although most Dragonriders bore little ties to the ground. Gloran herself had born three children, all were being raised well, she was sure of that, but she knew none of them.
    The squadron under her wing, she smiled slightly at the draconic metaphor, was all recruits. As she was known to be the best rider in Fairlan, taking there hopeful young people, who happened to sit on dragons, and make them into Dragonriders. Seven knew they needed it.
    Recently Galatrack had made escalating attacks to the Nothonians, the council feared open war was coming, and in this war they would need all the help they could find. They had the support of the dragons, but many feared that it would not be enough. Without looking behind her to see if her charges were ready she yelled out. "We ride for Fairlan!" At her signal her mount, Xtrix rose off the ground...
    Fairlan came into sight slowly; it's golden spires jutting into the air almost higher then a dragon could fly, lost in the mists. Below the spires lay the greatest city in the mortal realm; everything was golden, and shone with an inner light. Tall buildings clustered to the center, growing smaller as they spread further from the city. This design was chosen for both defense and impressment, from the defensive point of view archers deeper into the city could fire down at the rest of the Fairlan easier, from the impressment perspective, approaching the city from the ground one saw a huge golden cone jutting into the heavens. In the center of the golden mass lay the five towers. The meeting halls and living spaces for the council of five. The first five of their race, immortal, with nearly unlimited power. The towers were joined seven hundred feet above the tallest of the other buildings.
    It was these towers, which Gloran circled her troop around, to the cheering of the civilians below. A parade in their honor. They had found and destroyed a large party of Galatrack's demons, however for her, and many of her troop who had lost friends, the celebration would not be a happy one...
    Gloran knocked on a door. Xtrix was safely stabled away; feasting probably, but for Gloran this unpleasant task still remained. An aging woman opened the door.
    "Commander Gloran, it is you. Our son, Hamen, has not returned from the celebrations, he promised us visiting would be his first priority...
    " She fell silent at Gloran's face, then. "...no... No. No! NO!" All intelligible conversation faded into sobbing. Gloran did her best to comfort the fallen recruit's mother.
    "I'm sorry. If it is any consolation..."
    "Yes. What." That was the father; the mother was still lost.

- 1 -

Part 2

    "He sacrificed himself to shatter Galatrack's connection with his minions. He gave us victory. And a safe passage home for the survivors." The fathers face was still downcast, but there was an unmistakable shine of pride in his eyes. Gloran left, knowing that the father, at least would always be proud that his son had joined that particular doomed squadron.
    Four more to go...
    The Council of Five was meeting. The first, Laren, sat in his gilded chair, glowering.
    "We are not winning this war." That was the Kastle, the third. "Whatever the rumors say, we are steadily being driven back, just as our predecessors, the Kalheri were."
    "But the people must be kept happy. If their moral falls, we will have no chance. Galatrack knows all our weaknesses, he has watched us since our race was born, we cannot hope for victory."
    "No, Laren, we cannot, but we can vie for a draw." The head of the council sighed and leaned forward on his throne.
    "How. Tell me one way we can survive this conflict."
    Ravlin spoke up. "Trickery. A full frontal assault upon his strongest fort in the mortal realms. It will cheer the populace, and cause Galatrack to look to his own defenses."
    Kastle, the tactician of the group began planning already. "We assault his stronghold of Glaktrin. All the Dragonriders. Keep the rest of our forces here, in the capital, they would only slow down the dragons."
    Laren looked out one of the high windows. "It shall be done."
    The city was in a flux of energy. All the Dragonriders were to be sent out to attack Galatrack's most powerful fortress. We are winning thought Gloran There is no other reason for this attack. We are winning...
    Gloran loved the feel of the night air. Whistling over her face as she and Xtrix floated on the winds. She raised the horn to her lips. Hrooooooon... Answering calls drifted on the wind and she looked behind her. There could not be a more beautiful sight. Dragonriders. Thousands of them riding the skies, mounted upon a multitude of dragons. Every color you could imagine was there and the riders! Dressed for war they were, glittering mail shinning in the sun, rune-inscribed swords and lances, arrows that would not miss. All glowing in the light of the new dawn.

- 2 -

Part 3

    Below them lay a gray expanse, the cloud tops, not yet white with the sun, still looked like a fog bank. Below those clouds lay Galatrack's greatest fortress on earth. And they would raze it to the ground. Gloran lifted her sword and waved it downward. With a roar the huge air-borne army fell upon the unsuspecting demons below.
    Nelin was playing along the river. He splashed around in the shallows near the city of Fairlan. He wasn't alone either, so mommy wouldn't be mad, a little upstream some older boys were also playing. Nelin looked up at a single dragon scout in the sky. When he grew up he was going to be a dragon rider. Nelin missed the screams of the older boys, and when he looked towards them, they were all standing on the bank. As for the river he was sanding in... It was covered in some slick blackness. It smelt hideous. Nelin couldn't help it; he started to cry...
    The stronghold was burning. It was an overwhelming victory for the Nothonian forces, dragons did loops in joy, but Gloran was still troubled. The demons had hardly put up any fight, customary defense from dragons was large crossbows, or even catapults, but the demons had done nothing but launch a foul-smelling black concoction at their foes, which the dragonriders learned, did nothing...
    Gloran's troop flew at a breakneck pace towards their city. Three nights ago her Dragonriders had started dieing. Gloran supposed that was the reason for the black sludge.
    "Gloran, help me." The warrior was drenched in his own blood. First had come the coughing, then the vomiting, and finally blood oozing out the man's pores.
    "Gloran, do not... do not re...." His hand moved to his chest, formed the four-point ward, and clutched into a fist, and the man died.
    That had been the first, now half her force was dead. It stuck in no obvious order, but those it did strike, died.
    As Gloran came in for a landing the city was silent. None of the customary cheering to greet returning soldiers. Just... silence. As soon as she was able Gloran ran into the city's main street.
    Bodies. All around her. They had clearly died from the same cause as her troops; from the golden windows faces watched her. Faces with blood rimmed eyes. A shadow passed over the sun, then another, and another. The dragons were fleeing the inner city. As she watched she was able to spot Xtrix amongst the others. Unable to watch she brought her attention back to the ground. And slowly she started to cough.

- 3 -

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