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Date Posted: 19:59:00 03/06/05 Sun
Author: DS
Subject: Prologue
In reply to: DS 's message, "My Story..." on 19:57:36 03/06/05 Sun

Prologue

A wisp of clear smoke, almost invisible, was the only sign that they existed. With a ruthless smile, the man, hidden in the shadows, crept closer to the mountain. He was sure of it this time. He had found them.
With his men following, he walked out of the shadowy shelter of the forest and to the base of the mountain. Another wisp of smoke fell daintily across his face; they were sleeping. Confidence swelling inside the arrogant young man, he led his small army up the mountain trail, swiftly and silently. Surprise was an essential element, the one that would decide the fate of the party.
The man, concealed within his cloak, held a long, silver blade close to his chest as he climbed. This was the moment he’d been waiting for his whole life. The moment he could finally be rid of them. Forever.
His silver eyes swept the large opening, about a dragon’s length away from his spot. It was just how the stories told it to be. It was large; enough for three elephants to fit through on top of each other and much wider. The wisps of smoke glided gently from the mouth of the cave. Somehow, even with its mammoth size, the cave was nigh invisible. Many more dotted the mountain, some closer to the party than their target, but smaller. The big one was what they were looking for.
The nearer they came to the cave, the larger and more lucid the smoke became. The man’s army, over a hundred in number, was frightened, one could see, but determined. They would not make a sound. Not until it would begin.
Each man, aside from the cloaked figure, wore armor of the darkest blue, exactly matching the night sky. Their armor was heavy and strong, and they held it as proudly as they could without noise. A sword was sheathed at every hip, their handle’s purest black with soft golden symbols. The case matched their armor, with silver markings indicating in their own way the position of their bearer. All had a crossbow of the same black as the sword hilt hung at the shoulder, just hidden from view behind the shield. The shields, darker than the armor yet lighter than the sword hilt, bore a dark red phoenix, the color of blood, arising from the engulfing flames of death.
The man with the cloak visibly had only his sword, betrayed by the glint it produced when the moon shined even the slightest amount of light on it.
They were less than half a dragon’s length away now. It was only moments until they started…
Each man was starting to have his doubts now, but it was too late to turn back. They were close enough to smell the smoke, and could almost feel the warmth of the minute flames some of them expelled when they slept.
Before they knew it, they were there.
The mouth of the cave seemed much bigger now that the men were standing in it. The dark, deep passages that would lead into the individual caves, or Tyr, as the legends called them. This was surely the main cavern, the one that lead to the Tyr’s of only the species best.
Small lights could barely be seen as they flickered, indicating that they were indeed there and asleep. This deeply reassured the cloaked man’s army as they walked silently down the cavern, looking for the Tyr of the leaders of the mountain, the Tru. They would undoubtedly be the ones to sneak up on first.
Sneaking was a hard thing. There were quite a few openings, in which the scales shone with any color imaginable in the light that refracted off their armor and weapons. Each opening seemed to house one or two dragons, each of a different color than the last. They had to be careful not to make any noise or shine their moonlit armor at their eyes.
With many silent steps, they were sure they’d found it.
There was a large opening directly opposite of the cave opening, bigger than all other openings they passed. Inside, the glitter of golden and pure white scales met their intimidated eyes.
The cloaked man was first to recover from the moment of awe. With a deft wave of his hand, he signaled his men to walk behind him, into the Tyr of the two Tru.
One after another, the men crept into the Tyr heard of only in legends. It was a large cave, with different areas for different purposes. Now, though, all rooms were pitch black. The only things visible were the glittering scales of gold and white.
As they walked closer, the scaly forms started to take shape.
The two dragons were sleeping, but they still struck fear into the hearts of the men. The white one was a bit larger, and seemed to be the male. His grumbles were low, and his scales were a bit sharper, the sign of a warrior. The gold’s sleeping breaths came in a higher pitch, and her scales were very close to her. Legends told this would mean she was ready to clutch. The scales were tightly packed together so the young couldn’t cut their soft hides against the rough and sharp scales of their mother, an adult. This one also seemed very close to clutching; you could tell by the fact she leaned on her side against her mate, her exposed stomach rutted with eggs. If it weren’t for these slight clues, it would be near impossible to tell the gender.
The gold was about fifty feet long, maybe longer once her long tail and neck were stretched out. Her head was man-sized. This fact seemed to distress many of the men. The white was at least five feet longer, and seemed to be more alert in his sleep than his mate. Both would be extremely hostile, especially if the female Tru was about to clutch. Their only hope was to attack now, while they slept.
With a wave of the cloaked man’s hand, the army surrounded the two great beasts. All quietly unsheathed their swords, the silver blades glistening as they reflected the light of the scales that seemed to glow of their own accord when the moon could not reach them. They walked closer until they almost bumped into the razor-like scales, and held their weapons high into the air, preparing to strike the small spots of exposed hide between the glimmering scales.
The whole mountain awoke to a shrill, ear-splitting shriek.
The white dragon reared up fast as lightning, giving a tremendous roar. The gold’s ear-splitting scream was just as eerie, if not more, her golden wings flaring upward, pulling down and lunging her into the few feet of air that the Tyr provided.
The men had expected a similar reaction. Quickly, they sheathed their swords and pulled out their bows, equipped with silver arrows. These had the sharpest and finest tips, the only things available that could reach in between the scales of the dragons with precise aim and the right training. Arrows filled he air, and the screams of the dragons were the only sounds heard for miles. Claws tore at the ground, wings flared through the air, and tails thrashed about as the dragons attempted to defend themselves against the attack.
As if summoned, dragons of all shapes and colors swarmed to the main cavern in mad attempts to save their Tru. Dragon screams drowned out the sound of the humans and the attacks. Blood spilt over the ground, both red and black. Many-faceted eyes burned red with anger and black with hatred as the dragons clawed hopelessly at their adversaries.
As he watched the confusion and loss of life, the cloaked man couldn’t help but smile. It was hopeless for the dragons. The arrows they used were cursed; they would kill immediately if they hit near the neck, and his men were skilled. Yes, some of his men would be lost, but he knew with their training, the dragons would all soon be dead.
One dragon, however, did not join the fight. Her scales shone like rubies in the moonlight as she fled, her flight slightly wobbling as she carried her little burden. She was a small dragon, only about twenty feet long as she was stretched at her greatest. Her stomach was rough with her spawn, and she flew at her fastest to make sure the young ones would survive the arrows and sword that drank so mercilessly of dragon blood.
However, her flight was not undiscovered. About ten of the men followed her, their arrows aim true. Black blood rained down from her wounds as she fled into the forest, avoiding sure crash courses as adrenalin took complete control over the desperate mother’s mind. Though blood loss made her dizzy, she continued her frantic flight, determined that her children would live.
The men aimed their hardest at the mother’s neck, the slaughter of the ruby beauty the one thing on their minds. However, she wouldn’t die that easily. She couldn’t let her children be a part of the bloodbath that was taking place. They were the one tribe of dragons known to still live. The cloaked man had marched many an army out against the majestic creatures, and he was known well among the dragons.
Vertigo was starting to overtake the young mother. With a desperate look about, she spied a clearing below, shrouded by dense bushes and trees. With a faint smile, she flew downwards, and landed hard on her back in the clearing. However, pain made no difference to her as a numbness swept throughout her. She quickly flipped herself over, and crawled over to some bushes opposite of the way the men were coming. Desperation pushing her to go as quick as she could, the mother set to her final task.
Once done, she whispered one last word into the bushes before complete and utter exhaustion overtook her. Her eyes, blue with the satisfaction of a job well done, closed, never to open again.
When the men finally picked their way into the clearing, what they saw amazed them. A ruby dragon laid, limp and lifeless, next to the bushes. Next to her dead body, three eggs sat. Each was of a different color. One glinted like sapphires, another like emeralds, and the last like rubies.
With a sound like a satisfied sigh, the body of the ruby dragon slowly faded into nothing. Only a puddle of black blood showed that she was ever there.
The men, though shaken completely, walked over to the eggs. Three. It seemed a small clutch, but then, it was a small mother.
A few minutes later, the men left, the three eggs left, silver arrows going straight through their middle. Small, jeweled hides could be slightly seen through the cracks in the eggs.
A black glimmer in the bushes was the last thing seen before the men left.
Back at the cavern, all the dragons had been slain. The eggs of the golden dragon were loaded onto a cart to carry back once they regained their horses from the town nearest the forest. If taken before ready to be laid, the eggs made fine crystals. The things the man in the cloak would be paying his men with.
A smile crossed the cloaked man’s face as his icy blue eyes shined. The last of the dragons were gone… now, he could get what he truly wanted…


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