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Tuesday, April 21

Serpentine Path: Part 11c – The Final Stand

“I know you for who and what you are!”

An old man, clad in only a white robe, was the source of the voice and he seemed to address the dragon. Surrounding him were a score of dwarves bearing the distinctive beards of the Encali enclave.

“Illiir will have now what was once denied!” shouted the old man.

The dwarves gestured in unison with him as he chanted a ritual. The dragon’s head snapped around, eyeing the ritual uncertainty. For the first time, the beast hesitated.

With a lightning fast motion, the dragon released another stream of unstoppable fire against the citadel. The old man simply raised his hands and the fire parted harmlessly around him. In the fire, something was outlined…a ghostly image made of the purest white light, with hands outstretched in supplication and angelic wings raised behind it.

“Valinor,” whispered Sebastian.

Seeing his breath weapon so easily thwarted, the dragon suddenly took flight, seeking to flee the battlefield. It had reached the edge of the horizon just as the chant of the dwarves reached a fever pitch. The chanting abruptly ended and as the dragon crested the nearby mountain range, a huge explosion engulfed the creature.

The shockwave traveled for miles, sundering stone, wood, and flesh. Even at a distance, Sebastian was knocked off his feet by the concussion. The dragon was nowhere to be seen, the only evidence of its passing a corkscrew of smoke athat disappeared out of sight.

Muatma circled Sebastian and Ilmarė on his horse. “Reform the line! Reform the line!”

With the loss of their greatest weapon, the Ssethregoran army seemed to despair. The outnumbered Patrolmen began fighting with renewed fury. [MORE]


posted by Michael Tresca at 6:38 AM

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