Chapter 348
Arun and Dannel turned to see the ponderous but majestic bulk of the dragon descending toward them, its wings casting a dark shadow over the temple entry as they spread to slow its flight.
“Take cover!” Arun said to Dannel. “You cannot survive another blast, and I’ll need your bow!”
The elf nodded, darting back into the shadowy depths of the temple sanctuary. Arun, in turn, stepped boldly forward to meet the dragon, raising his sword so that its brilliance would leave no question as to his intent. The dwarf could see that the dragon had suffered some injuries; several arrows that had penetrated its scales jutted from various points on its body, and it bled from a deep puncture wound where its head met its long neck. But the beast looked to be more enraged than hindered by the damage wrought upon it thus far.
Hookface spotted the dwarf, and as it extended its legs to land it opened its jaws to immolate its enemy in scorching flame.
Arun was brave, but not a fool; as he saw the dragon’s jaws open wide he ducked back behind a pillar, hoping to at least avoid some of the force of the breath attack. But to his surprise, the dragon suddenly shifted awkwardly in mid-flight, lurching to the side and landing off-balance so that its right leg twisted under its weight and it body slammed hard onto the pavement. The dragon roared in obvious pain, and instead of blasting Arun its head shot back toward its hindquarters, where a diminutive form tumbled free of the thrashing dragon. Mole’s tiny dagger was in her hand, and bright red blood stained not only the weapon, but also coated her fist and a good part of her sleeve. The gnome’s expression was one of pure and utter disgust, but she’d managed to find at least one part of the dragon’s anatomy that was not invulnerable to attack.
Hookface breathed, expelling a violent cone of red fire that swathed its...tender... backside. Its own fire did not harm it in the least, but it caught up Mole with the force of a tornado, lifting her and driving her into the wall of buildings on the far side of the street. The breath weapon transformed the block of worn storefronts into an inferno, but Mole had fortuitously spotted a window, and covering her face with her arms she shot through it, landing in a long hallway that she somersaulted down until she had lost enough momentum to regain her footing. Behind her, the entire front of the building was aflame, the window limed in the bright glow of the dragon’s fire. On the other hand, she was mostly intact, although she falsely credited luck and skill, when Jenya’s protection from fire had had a larger share in protecting her from the full force of the dragon’s breath. Maybe it was better that she forgot about that ward, for the blast had entirely used up that protection.
In any case, as she ran back toward the entrance, eager not to miss the rest of the battle, a smile was back on her face.
Arun did not fail to take advantage of Mole’s distraction. Even as the dragon blasted her with its flame, the paladin was charging down the steps of the temple. Hookface was a canny, experienced fighter, and it was quick to regain its footing, moving its massive bulk with surprising speed. As Arun moved within the long reach of its head the sinuous member shot out, clipping the dwarf hard on the shoulder, but failing to get a hold with its sharp teeth. But Arun would not be denied, and as the dragon turned its body back toward him he smote it, his holy sword opening a five-foot gash in its breast near its left shoulder. Hot blood cascaded from the vicious wound, drenching the paladin. The dragon drew back, hurt, but now it brought the full force of its various weapons to bear, a barrage of claw, tooth, wing, and tail that laid into the paladin with the deadly force that only a fully-grown dragon can manage.
Arun withstood hit after hit, only his magical armor and incredible fortitude keeping him from being torn into shreds instantly. His magical augmentations were of little use against this foe, and even he could not stand up to the dragon’s full force alone.
Fortunately for Arun, he was not alone.
Hodge, his chest heaving from the effort of running full-out in plate armor all the way from the town hall to here, nevertheless managed a roaring dwarvish battle cry as he lifted his axe and stormed into the dragon’s flank. The dragon saw him coming and lashed him with a blow from his tail that knocked him sprawling, but the dwarf merely got up and kept coming, bringing his axe down into the dragon’s side. The attack lacked the sheer power of Arun’s smite, but the wound was still another tally against the dragon’s life, and it shifted so that it could address both of its enemies at once.
Unfortunately for Hookface, this again meant that its back was turned to Mole, who leapt through the shattered window into the street into a full run toward the dragon. Intent on Hodge, the dragon did not react with an attack of opportunity, so she reached her target and sprang into a leap that easily cleared twice her height, coming down on the joint where the dragon’s hind right leg met its body. Once again precision made up for what she lacked in size and strength, and her dagger vanished into a gap between two scales, rewarding her with a spurt of bright red as she leapt free.
Meanwhile, from the balcony atop the temple, where Jenya Urikas used to enjoy looking out over the city, Dannel emerged with an arrow already fitted to his bow. The elf took aim and fired, and while his first shot narrowly missed the dragon’s head, undulating wildly on its long neck, he definitely got its attention.
Hookface was a red dragon, known for their vanity, pride, and utter ruthlessness. But the great drake had not survived the centuries that it had by being reckless. The unleashing of the power of the Tree of Shackled Souls had waken it from a sleep of years in its mountain hold far to the northern spur of the Alamirs, and it had come to Cauldron more irate than angry. It had no concern about the destruction of the city or the opening of the planar gate, but it had immediately seen the potential for a bit of looting, especially for the magical items of power that it craved. It didn’t need its detect magic spell to recognize the powerful items borne by these two-legged adversaries, but nor did it need any more urging to recognize that its situation here was precarious. It had killed one enemy already, and had inflicted a lot of damage upon the others, but every movement was now causing stabbing pains to shoot through its body, and the quiet of its cave seemed like a very pleasant place to be right now.
Its decision was made when the dragon’s sharp senses drew its attention to a series of shouts and cries that originated down the ruin of the boulevard. Glancing in that direction, it saw a small company of perhaps a dozen people running up the street toward the battle between the drake and the hard-fighting defenders of the city. The knot of newcomers looked ragged, with tunics frayed and scorched and faces marked with black soot, but they came on with grim determination toward the fray. They were a mixed group, with both genders and at least six races represented in their company, but all wore blackened tunics that had once been light blue cloth, emblazoned with the still-distinct sigil of the hammer. At their head came the half-elven merchant-turned-warrior Ambelin, whose longspear was caked with the blood of a demodand that had not died easily. Others carried bows, which they held at the ready even as the first tendrils of dragonfear washed over them as they closed.
The appearance of reinforcements, even tired and ragged ones, made this confrontation enough for the veteran dragon. Hookface spread its copious wings and gathered the air beneath them, augmenting the mechanical potential of its physical form with the innate magical source that gave all dragons the power of flight. The dwarves rushed in to attack, but the dragon leapt into the air, driving itself higher, out of their reach. It left one more gift for them as it hovered fifty feet above the ground, bending its neck to unleash a final gout of hot red flame. Then an arrow stabbed into its side, reminding it of the elf archer who’d already hurt it. Hookface released a last roar that echoed over the city, promising a later accounting, and then ascended into the smoky skies over the city on powerful beats of its wings. Within less than a minute it had vanished from sight.
The companions gave it little more thought; they were far more intent upon surviving the hell that Cauldron had become. The dragon’s last blast had seriously burned Arun and Hodge, overcoming the last vestiges of Jenya’s magical warding. Arun, already grievously injured in his brief melee with the drake, collapsed and had to be revived with a potion. When Hodge tugged off his helmet to administer the draught, they could all see the blackened flesh and fresh blood where the paladin’s battered body had given way before all of the punishment Arun had withstood.
But as Arun stirred, the magical elixir working its potent energies through his frame, his dark eyes shone still with hard resolve. “Dragon... gone?”
“Fer now,” Hodge grunted.
Arun nodded, and allowed Hodge to assist him as he pulled himself to his feet. His followers had gathered, their faces writ with awe as the legend of their champion grew just that much more in that moment. Arun looked at them, then fixed his gaze on Ambelin, the half-elven woman he’d placed in command when they’d left the Temple of Helm what seemed like a tenday past.
“You were supposed to be helping Jenya get the people out of the city,” he said, but his face betrayed the harshness of his tone.
“The city has been evacuated,” Ambelin reported. “Columns are already making their way to Redgorge and to the Lucky Monkey. From there...”
“The High Priestess said you’d gone back in, to confront the dragon, young Orthos said. “We couldn’t just...” he trailed off.
Arun nodded, and looked up. The swirling vortex within the storm had grown wider and more agitated, and while no demodands were currently falling from the sky, they could all hear the continued sounds of destruction from all over the city.
“I think it might be a good time to get out of here,” Mole said.
Arun’s gaze shifted back toward the temple, where Dannel was just exiting the foyer. The paladin’s eyes betrayed his grief in that moment, where his companions could not see it. But they didn’t need to see it; they understood his feelings.
“There is one we need to bring with us,” he said, softly, and Ambelin gestured for several of the Hammers to recover Beorna’s body from the wreckage of the church entry.
With the slain templar carried on a crude stretcher between them, the Heroes of Cauldron left the stricken city.
