The
sound of wings was an ever constant reminder that the war was far
from won.
Nyroc
and Nayra, two of the High Dragons charged with bringing this area to
submission, were flying overhead. Their scales glinted in the light
of the many fires burning in the village. Just the sight of their
gold and black scales filled me with rage.
Dragons,
monsters of both land, air, and water. The elementals should have
wiped them off the face of Terrarth eons ago. But no, the elementals
made peace with the dragons, and then allowed the Taints to form a
bond with those worms that so far had lasted generations.
Once,
the Taints had been the greatest dragon slayers ever to breath the
air of Terrarth. But now they lowered themselves to lives of
servitude to whoever they happened to dream about.
They
were no better then the worms.
A
soldier ran into the observation room where I watched the countless
battles, his face red as he gasped for breath.
“Report.”
I growled after he had bowed.
“The
Falcon Unit have fallen to a black dragon.” He kept his eyes on the
floor, unwilling to risk offending a commander such as I.
“They entire unit fell to a single
dragon?” I asked, not willing to believe such a preposterous tale.
The soldier gave a sharp nod. “Yes. This black dragon isn't like
the rest of them, sire. He's much larger, and even the other dragons
avoid him.” I tossed this information around for a moment, before
voicing a question. “Where is this dragon headed, and do we know
his name?” I watched the soldier fumble for a moment, before losing
patience. “Spit it out, man!” I ordered, allowing a small bit of
my temper to give my words an edge. Sure enough, the soldier
flinched, then quickly spoke. “The... they call him Plague, and
he's coming here.”
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