I
The evening downpour spattered against the dragonborn’s snout as she raged through the undergrowth of the forest. The light of the full moon could barely be seen through the rainclouds and heavy canopy that blocked out the sky, but that wasn’t the light that Aspis had been chasing.
Nearly five years had passed since the beginning of the Draconian Purge, and what few dragons that remained in Adur were no longer looked upon as frightening scourges or destructive beasts to be put down for the sake of man. Rather, they had become prey to be hunted, prizes whose corpses were paraded around city streets, and pests to be drawn out and exterminated. A dragon’s head brought bounties of gold, sure, but what many hunters were truly after was the fame and glory that came with slaying such an ancient and powerful beast.
As the dragonborn grew closer to the light ahead, it became increasingly clear it was firelight. A dragon’s fire? Unlikely. It was far too small, even for a wyrmling. Even so, red dragons wouldn’t dare cross through the forests surrounding Rolandi, and gold dragons hadn’t been seen since the purge began. What Aspis found as she grew closer was worse than both: an encampment of paladins, quite a few of them too.
The druid couldn’t tell what was more obvious, the billowing smoke of the covered campfire in the clearing, or the clattering of the golden armor adorning the holy soldiers. They were Andea’s, Aspis was sure of it. The shiny new plate armor, the varying and excessive weaponry, and the stench of sweat and ale. The battle goddess’ soldiers lived for the one thing that she held dominion over, and, despite their overconfidence, they were good at it. Many dragons met their ends at the blades of Andea’s paladins, even more at the head of Andea’s own spear.
Getting past them would be easy enough - she was practically circling the campsite at this point. The only issue was: were they after the same thing she was? And if so, could she slow them down long enough to beat them to the dragon’s grotto? If they were this far into the forest, she thought, they were likely already on its trail. With their armor still on and horses at the ready, it seemed like they wouldn’t be staying the night either. She crouched down deeper into the brush, listening to the gruff voices bickering.
A dwarf spoke up among the four of them, more of his thick brown beard sticking out of his helmet than anything else. “Look, Jordi, all I’m saying is that we’ve got to focus on the bigger picture here, trapping that thing’s gonna be harder than staring down a basilisk and staying soft, aye? Killing it might be tough, but at least the old bastard’ll be dead!”
The large orc Aspis assumed to be Jordi spoke up, “I know that you dolt! Remy said the same thing last hunt, and where did that get ’im?”
“Dead,” the dwarf grumbled reluctantly.
“Aye, dead with the boss’ spear up his arse,” Jordi continued. “So no, we stick to the plan and we trap the damn thing. We have a better chance against some old lizard than we do the boss regardless.”
Trappers? What could they possibly want with a live dragon? Aspis thought. This was the first time that she’d heard of anyone trying to kidnap a dragon rather than kill it. It worried her more what the goddess might have planned for such a beast if she could truly get her hands on it. She scanned the clearing once more, confirming there were four soldiers before her. She’d have to be careful not to hurt the horses, but she was sure she could manage.
Aspis’ stance shifted slightly as her fingers began to weave the arcane. Her thoughts melded into druidic, the phrases of a spell falling quietly from her lips as she focused on the fractured stone in her hand.
The paladins’ bickering ceased immediately as the ground beneath them began to rumble. One of the silent ones, a drow elf woman, met Aspis’ eyes and shouted, “Right there! In the brush!” All four of them turned toward the interloper at once, a red dragonborn among them springing to his feet and sprinting after her in an instant.
Aspis crushed the stone in her palm. The earthquake came to a precipice, fissures opening in the earth beneath each of the four soldiers. She barely ducked out of the way of a glowing hammer thrown her way as the paladins fell into the crevasses beneath them, all of them but one.
The red dragonborn dove over the gap as Aspis let loose a second spell. In the wake of the earthquake, vines shot out from the ground, the clearing becoming overgrown in an instant. The soldiers attempting to crawl out from the fissures in the ground quickly found themselves tangled in the overgrowth, vines and thorns preventing them from making any meaningful progress quickly.
The dragonborn was quick to let loose a flurry of flames from his breath, burning away any foliage trying to pin him down and forcing the druid to back off. He bared his sharp teeth in a devilish smirk, a hefty greatsword glowing with divine light appearing in his hand.
Aspis’ clawed hand found the hilt of her longsword as he lifted his blade to strike. She was swift, parrying the first blow to the right and allowing more space between them. She didn’t allow him within sword length, reaching into a pouch for a bright red plume feather, a cockatrice’s.
As though he recognized it immediately, the paladin recklessly drove forward, attempting to stop the druid from casting yet another spell, but to no avail. He lifted his greatsword above his head as the last line of druidic cant crossed her tongue, and he immediately felt his body grow stiff. Aspis blocked the weakened attack, backing away as she watched her opponent slowly begin to turn to stone. The spell started at his feet and quickly worked its way up his body. He snarled, straining to turn to her, a bloodlusted fury in his eyes that Aspis knew could only come from a soldier of Andea.
“You have no idea what you’re up against, you tree fucking witch! She’ll kill you, she’ll make you pay for what you’ve done here! Just you fucking wait!” he shouted just as the stone took hold of his head, leaving him petrified as he stood: screaming eternally at the forest before him.
Aspis sighed as her shoulders dropped, relief washing over her as she replaced her longsword. The moment of brevity was short lived, however, the sound of crumbling stone drawing her attention immediately back to the dragonborn.
He was stronger than she had anticipated.
From beneath the stone, she could hear his bellowing cries. “No… NO… NO!” the dragonborn roared as he ripped free from the stone. His head pointed to the sky, flames erupting in a display of raw power. He lifted his radiant blade, pointing at Aspis in challenge. “I won’t let you have the honor of being slain by her blade! I, Orzas Malakai, loyal servant of the divine, will be your end! Face me, fiend, so that your pathetic life may at least end honorably.”
The words seemed to light a fire within Aspis’ heart, drawing her to his challenge. She was compelled by him, compelled to put the arrogant bastard in his place. She drew her longsword once more. She touched her chest, the green scales of her skin roughening into a stone-like texture. No more tricks, the dragonborn would get the duel he so desired.
Golden light shone from the edges of his armor, the forest around him lighting up within the radiant aura that surrounded him. Orzas was the first to strike, his heavy footfalls leaving imprints in the muddy undergrowth as he charged his opponent. Aspis barely slipped out of the way of the first attack, slicing her blade upwards, just grazing the thick golden plate.
They traded blows, each deftly dodging and parrying the others’ swings. Despite the size of the divinely charged blade, the paladin swung it with ease and an aggression that almost felt intentional, even graceful. Aspis’ blade, as large as it was, was still smaller and thinner than the behemoth Orzas assaulted her with. With each blow from the enemy, her arms grew weaker, struggling to hold off the onslaught. He began to break her defense, his blows landing through the blocks and slicing through her thickened skin.
The druid began to see the blood trickling down her arms, and, despite the many strikes she had managed to land on the paladin, he looked to be entirely unphased. She backed up, the druidic returning, the incantation loud and sonorous around her.
The dragonborn shouted a single word, a cant in draconic, and the sound of Aspis’ voice dissipated. Try as she might, the druid was no longer able to make a sound. It was deafening, the sphere of silence halting her speech and thus any spell that required her voice to cast. She turned to run, to attempt to escape Orzas’ spell, but before she knew it he was on her again. This time, he was thorough, dropping the blade down over his head. Aspis dropped to a knee, the weight of the strike rattling her as she blocked it. It was up again, and down once more, hacking at her blade, repeatedly. It was horrifying, the deafening silence of the spell leaving only the sound of her own heartbeat throttling in her ears as the dragonborn chipped away at her blade.
Another strike, and Aspis’ eyes went wide. The radiant greatsword shattered the blade, cutting straight through it and into her chest. She felt her back hit the ground beneath her, the paladin above her readying for a finishing blow. He swung down, his lips saying something neither of them were able to hear. Just as the blade was to cut through her neck, she was gone.
Quickly and with no time left, the druid shaped herself into the form of a spider, immediately disappearing into the undergrowth as the paladin’s sword buried itself in the mud. She scurried away, barely dodging the dragonborn’s stomping tantrum. She ran until she could once more hear the sounds of the forest around her and transformed back.
The paladin watched with wide eyes as the druid returned to her natural form, attempting to cast yet another spell on her, but to no avail. The incantation failed as his words fell uselessly into the deafening silence, and Aspis watched with a grin.
She pointed to the dragonborn, shouting in druidic as his ornate golden armor began to glow with a faint blue light. She knew Orzas couldn’t hear anything, but he could certainly smell the scent of sulfur that permeated the air around them.
Before the paladin could escape, or dispel the silencing spell, Aspis dropped the fury of the skies down upon him. With each shout of the cant, a bolt of lightning shot down from the stormclouds above onto the dragonborn’s head. Thunder rattled the forest, birds flying off into the distance as the onslaught of bolts continued on. Aspis wouldn’t quit, not until she was sure the bastard was thoroughly disposed of. After over a dozen strikes, she was certain.
She watched as the remains of Orzas Malakai crumbled before her: a pile of bones, charcoal, and charred golden plate sinking into the damp earth from whence it came.
