Emberwind

[Vodstok]

I think parts of it are a bit rushed and incomplete, but i am pretty staisfied with theoverall story. let me know what you all think. Although it is old-school fantasy, i just cant resist injecting irony into everything. i hope you enjoy it :)



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Sitting up in the cold mountains, near the peak of a medium sized crag, was a cave. It was terribly inaccessible, with cliffs and loose rock peppering the entire route to its opening. But that had not swayed the bold, intrepid and foolish over the centuries, for inside the cave was a chamber.

The chamber was massive; far bigger then one would think the mountain top could accommodate. It had been built millennia before, carved out of the crag as a hall for a kingdom, of a mighty and wise dwarf king long forgotten. The ceiling was made of rectangular marble plates, carved in intricate detail with relieves of massive battles, and plentiful mines.

Entrances spotted the sides, allowing masses of subjects to enter and feast with the great king. Many of them were now boarded over with tables and benches from the great hall. Bases of long destroyed statues littered the floor. The soft, warm glow of an eternal hearth burned at one end, filling the chamber from end to end in dull orange light.

Time and evil had long claimed the kingdom, leaving behind the hall. Civilizations came and went, most unaware of the chamber. The occasional explorer or looter would happen by, but most either returned empty-handed, or were claimed by the evil that lurked behind the boarded portals.

Eventually, a great reptilian beast arrived. His name was Emberwind, a name chosen for him to describe his fiery breath. Emberwind had taken a liking to the giant chamber. Ever the planner, he realized that the great expanse of the chamber would eventually serve his needs, and accommodate his growing mass.

The lurking evil tried to drive him out, but it was no match. Emberwind was the most vicious of his kind; his rich red scales matched the rage contained within. He burned the evil out with his flames, and drove them back with his hate.

Back in those ancient days, Emberwind was the terror of the surrounding area, swooping out regularly, eating people, destroying cities, and stealing treasures. Now, centuries later, he rested upon a massive pile of treasure. Gems, coins and jewelry of every culture that had lived within a thousand miles lay on the floor, piled tens of feet high in the center of the chamber. Emberwind’s massive body was almost dwarfed in the sea of gold, platinum and silver.

Sections here and there were melted into solid lumps of metal, often centered with a black smudge; all remains of the bold, intrepid and foolish. Dragon slayers were the rule for centuries. Thieves often tried to make off with bits of his treasure, but the dragon spent so much time around the pile, he was intimately aware of every coin and stone, and where it lay.

He would pursue the thieves relentlessly, destroying them utterly in the course of returning even a single necklace. But thieves merely angered him. Emberwind truly enjoyed the slayers. Self-righteous, over confident fools determined to rid the world of the Dragon’s deadly scourge. Many of them had met with previous success with other dragons, but Emberwind was not like most. He was clever, strong, and most of all, intelligent. His attacks were usually crafted in his mind before hand, and he never assumed his home was safe. More than once he would leave to ravage a village, only to return to a small horde of armed men bent on ending his reign.

But Emberwind always had the advantage, especially in his home. He had rigged the entire chamber with traps and spells, all aimed at giving him the advantage. He would toy with them, rather than kill them outright. They usually expected a giant beast to come snaking into the chamber, but he most often would morph into a human form and simply stroll in under noses before attacking.

These days, however, the massive dragon merely slept. He dreamed of past conquests, and especially of battles with those who would see him dead. People had stopped settling the surrounding area, and the ones that did were of such meager means that Emberwind had lost interest in terrorizing them. It was like toying with an injured mouse. There was no challenge, and no reward; poor folk had no treasure to hoard.

Eventually, the slayers either forgot about him, or cared very little to hunt down a dragon that no longer posed a threat. The great beast grew bored, and eventually depressed.

He sighed and stretched for the first time in over a decade, turned slightly, and lay back down. How he missed the little creatures that used to invade his home. He thought fondly of bygone days, when their screams would echo in his great hall, and he would revel in the rush of hot flame as it escaped his mouth and scorched his victims.

Each little death brought him such joy. If only he could recreate that feeling. His head popped up from his pillow of gold coins. An idea had crept into his mind. Perhaps there were still dragon slayers about. They could not have killed off all of the dragons in the world. Some hero must still wander looking for the challenge of the mighty wyrms, for a chance of being a legend, or simply to usurp the dragon’s wealth.

Maybe he could find one, and lure him back to a fight…

The dragon smiled as he stretched his two hundred foot bulk and rested on all fours. Yes, he would find a dragon slayer and lure him back for the kill. For the first time in nearly five hundred years, Emberwind invoked his natural ability to change shape and shrank noisily into human form. He appeared as a tall, muscular man wearing black clothing. His eyes were no longer the familiar red, now an intense, icy blue. His head was clean shaven.

He pocketed some coins and crawled over the piles of treasure toward the cave entrance. He hoped the currency was still valid; the human cultures were so temperamental, shifting leadership every half century, each one bringing their own ideas to the forefront.

After a short walk, Emberwind stood at the mouth of the cave. He had forgotten how sweet the cold mountain air smelled. He inhaled a deep breath of icy wind and smiled.

It took all of his self control to not shift back into his natural form and take to the air. Flying was one of his greatest joys, but he chose not to reveal himself. He had a game to play, and it required him not alerting the world to his presence. Not yet, anyway.

He held his palm out and concentrated for a second. A hole appeared in the air before him. In it was a picture of a lush green pasture, strong, tall fruit trees, and off in the distance, a city. He smiled and walked through.

A new city had grown in the time he slept. When he had last been out, the landscape had been brown and scarred from his exploits. A single, pathetic village had cropped up near the river, which had always teamed with trout. Its sad, meager existence had been instrumental in the great dragon sequestering himself in slumber.

It now appeared that his absence had lifted the blight on this land. As he glanced around, he decided it had been too long. This new generation should know terror. The thought made him smile inwardly.

He expected to see a massive wall surrounding such a large city. Instead, it was wide open. The road changed subtly into a city street. Carts filled with various wares plied up and down the main thoroughfare, beggars intermingled with common folk, asking for handouts, while rich merchants rode exotic animals. Bakeries, restaurants, and stores lined the streets.

Emberwind stopped and scanned the street. He needed a pub or a bar; those were the places where blowhards and want-to-be heroes would be found. Perhaps, if he was lucky, there would be proper hero in among the rabble.

As he scanned, his eyes fell upon a sign for a side street: Cask Street. If nothing else ever stayed the same, humans had a penchant for naming streets after their most prominent feature. He decided either pubs or mortuaries would be found on that avenue; either one would be entertaining.

To his delight, Cask Street was lined on both sides with all manner of inn, pub and bar. Even in the middle of the day, drunks and men in various forms of mercenary garb staggered in and out of the many establishments.

Being systematic of mind, Emberwind entered the first one on his right and walked straight to the bar and sat down. The bartender was a slight man with thinning hair. It grew in a thin horseshoe around his skull, and three wispy fingers of greasy hair were stretched over in a vain attempt to cover his massive bald spot. It was as if he had grown through his hair, and the fingers were trying to hold his head in.

[Vodstok]

The dragon smiled inside. Human vanity always amused him; these insects cared so much about themselves, blissfully unaware of how insignificant they were. Dragons, too, were vain, but eternal monsters with boundless magical ability deserved vanity, he mused.

He flagged the man with a nod. “What can I get for you, mister?” The bartender was missing many of his teeth. It took a great deal of self control to not laugh in the little man’s face. “Stout.” The bartender nodded and turned to a keg. Emberwind scanned the room as his drink was poured, looking for a likely prospect. There were many men in armor, or carrying swords, but all appeared to be men at arms or mercenaries. None had the straight-backed, virtuous look of the knightly dragon slayers.

At the very least, he might be able to get some information from the bartender. The small man returned with a large glass mug filled three quarters of the way with black brew, and the rest of the way with heavy brown foam. Emberwind scoffed silently. It never failed to annoy him how cheap these men could be. “That’ll be four sterling.” Emberwind nodded and reached into his pocket, producing a single gold coin. He saw the man’s eyes grow wide, then quickly return to normal in an obvious attempt to no look too eager.

“That will work.” He said as he hastily set the mug down and stretched out his hand. The dragon grinned “I’m sure it will. There will be change, yes?” he asked. The man’s face turned to a scowl, the corner of his mouth twisted up. “Of course, sir.” He sneered.

Emberwind placed the coin in the man’s hand, who started to turn away. The dragon quickly grabbed the man’s wrist and said “However, if you can provide me with some information, then the change may become a tip.” The bartender’s back straightened. “What kind of information might you be interested in?”

“Dragons slayers. I need to find one.”

The bartender let out a sharp laugh, and then stopped abruptly, not wanting to offend the potential big spender. “Well, there hasn’t been much of a need for them for a long time; ain’t been a dragon around here in ages. Used to be old Emberwind up in the mountains, but no one has seen him in half a millennium. Everyone assumes he either died, or is so old his bones wont let him get up.” He cackled a little. Emberwind did his best to hide his anger.

So the little pink ones thought he was dead, or worse, feeble? He immediately decided after this game was done, the city would be too. He would make a point to eat the disgusting little troll in front of him. It was small consolation that they still recalled his presence after so many generations of absence. “I can assume, then, that no one of honor and strength frequents this dive?”

The bartender looked taken aback by the insult and assumed a smug stance. Emberwind glared, noticing the thugs on either side of him changing positions subtly, most likely in case he got physical with the bartender. He decided not to waste any more time with the little man or his bar. “I’ll take my change, thank you.”

The bartender went to his till, and retrieved the proper change. Emberwind held out his hand, and the bartender angrily dropped the coins onto the bar, causing them to jump haphazardly, falling on the floor and scattering across the bar.

The dragon glowered at the skinny man, who immediately shrank away, all of his bluster stolen when he looked into the angry blue eyes of the dragon. One of the thugs went to pick up some of the coins on the bar, and Emberwind grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand over, forcing him to the floor. “You can have the change down there, I won’t waste my time scrounging it up.” The man howled in pain as the dragon’s grip threatened to crush the bones in his forearm.

Emberwind scooped up the coins from the bar. “Bartender.” He boomed. The little man started violently and turned to him. “I almost forgot your tip.” He took one of the lesser valued coins between his forefinger and thumb and snapped it at the man’s head. The coin rang as if he had thrown it at a stone, and the bartender fell back into his kegs, dazed and screaming in pain.

Emberwind stepped out the front door to the establishment. It was not a total waste of time, the rarity of dragon slayers had been verified. He would have a long road ahead of him.

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon long before Emberwind entered an establishment simply called “The Gilded”. It was much more upscale than most of the pubs he had entered; the smell of roasted meat and expensive seasonings enveloped him as he entered. The interior lived up to the name; clean-cut, well manicured patrons sat in luxurious seats, served by waiters in black suits. Low burning braziers gave the place a warm, cozy feel, and a minstrel quietly plucked a stringed instrument in the corner.

As he had in every previous place, Emberwind went straight for the bar. He ordered a stout (his twelfth of the day) and sat down. As the bartender returned with his drink, he opened his mouth ask the same question he had already asked dozens of times in this frustrating day, when he was cut off by an almost musical voice. “I hear you are looking for a dragon slayer.”

Emberwind was stunned. He turned slowly to his left to the source of the voice.

“Is that correct, or do I have the wrong gentleman?”

Sitting next to him was a woman. She had the lean muscular shape of a fighter, but her slight build and pointed ears marked her as an elf. She had red/brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and wore well kept, but obviously well worn leather travel clothes in forest green.

“Yes, I am. How do you know that?”

The elf woman looked down quickly, appearing a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry; I have been in a few of the same pubs as you today and overheard some of your conversation. I actually came here hoping you would too.”

Emberwind’s eyebrow cocked. “Really?... And why would you do that?”

The elf looked him directly in the eye. “Because I am what you have been looking for.”

The dragon looked at the elf with an amused, condescending stare. “Are you, now?”

She appeared unimpressed with his posture. Emberwind expected an over-exuberant stammer as the woman tried to spew a list of credentials and proof as to why she would be an excellent choice, but her reaction surprised him.

She smiled, the reached down and lifted her back pack. She reached inside and produced a ledger. Within was a list of kingdoms, many he recognized, more that he did not. The list contained four columns, the name of the land, the name of a lord, or king or duke, their signatures, and the names of dragons. Emberwind recognized the names on the list, every last one.

“Who did you steal that from?” he smirked.

The young woman smiled wider. “Originally? Testle, it was buried in a chest near the bottom of his bog.”

Emberwind started slightly. Testle had been a massive black-scaled dragon that inhabited a bog a thousand miles south of his domain. He had breathed a vicious acid, and demanded all manner of sacrifices to the surrounding lands to keep from destroying their homes.

Emberwind had always considered him lazy, but knew the monster had been powerful enough to never bother wanting to encounter him. Emberwind preferred ever advantage.

“YOU killed Testle?”

The elf nodded, clearly very proud. Emberwind stood next to his seat and said “Pardon my rudeness.” Then gestured and spoke a few lines to a simple spell. “Did you kill the great dragon known as Testle?”

The elf sighed. “Yes. Then I redistributed his wealth among the surrounding communities to repair the damage he had caused over the centuries.”

Much to his shock, the elf spoke the truth. Had she lied, even a little, she would have burst into harmless green flames. “Satisfied?” she said.

[Vodstok]

Emberwind nodded with a grin. “Oh, yes…” If this thin little elf woman had taken down Testle, she would definitely prove to be a challenge. He was happy; very happy.

For the first time that day, he honestly enjoyed his drink. They sat and chatted, about dragons, and lands they had visited. Her name was Briez. He lied and said his name was Jard. Emberwind remained careful not to let on what he was, and why he was interested in a slayer. He lied, stating that he had learned the location of his own lair, and that he knew an entrance that wasn’t known to the dragon. Although she seemed skeptical at first, the elf eventually accepted it as truth, and agreed to join him.

The pair traveled for days to the east of the city. Conversation was mostly spent on how to approach the dragon they were going to “ambush”. Emberwind had trouble containing his excitement; the elf seemed to take it as enthusiasm. She didn’t suspect a thing.

Every day, Emberwind grew more and more convinced of her skill. Briez carried herself with a calm self-assuredness that lacked any arrogance, the kind born from being truly skilled. She caught dinner several times with a bow and arrow, hitting a rabbit running at full speed from fifty yards, and killing it instantly. He observed her practicing with her blades at camp a few times. She carried a pair of long, pointed swords, and put them through a dazzling display that impressed him more than he cared to admit to himself.

Still, she was only a little over five feet tall, and his natural length was over two hundred; if for some reason she presented a real challenge, he could wipe any evidence she ever existed in one blast of fire.

By the fifth day of hiking and climbing, the pair reached the cave. Not surprisingly, the elf was a nimble and sure climber, so she had no trouble reaching his summit entrance. The two walked slowly into the cave. They took a side tunnel that Emberwind had told Briez would take them behind the dragon, giving them the element of surprise.

They moved with caution and stealth, slowly sneaking into the main chamber. The elf whispered almost completely inaudibly “Wow!” as they exited the tunnel. She had never seen a single room so large. She drew her swords and waited for Emberwind to initiate their attack. He would cast a spell that would launch her high into the chamber. The plan was to attack the dragon’s head.

She had played it over in her mind a hundred times over the past few days, imagining herself in a long, gentle arc, flipping over as she flew, drawing both blades, and coming down hard on the dragon’s head with both swords drawn. If everything went as planned, the creature would be blinded that instant, as she drove both blades into its eyes.

She waited for several heartbeats. “Jard?” Briez glanced over her shoulder. “What’s the m…” He was gone.

She dropped into a crouch and scanned the area. The human man was nowhere to be found. And neither was the dragon.
Briez suddenly jumped to her left instinctually dodging a blast of lightning that blew apart the pile of coins she was standing on. She rolled then came to her feet facing the direction of the bolt. There stood Emberwind, still in human form, and cackling like a madman. “Nice dodge. Very nice.”

His satisfaction was not complete, however. Briez didn’t appear very surprised by the attack. “You will have to do better than that.” Emberwind smiled. “Very well.” He laughed, and started another spell. Before he could finish it, though, Briez flipped one of her swords so that she was holding the blade, and threw it at him.

Emberwind stopped in mid-cast and caught the blade. She rushed in, swinging her remaining sword. He flipped the sword so that he was holding it the proper way and parried her first few blows, but she was too fast for him and managed to land several nasty cuts.

He had wanted a challenge, and he got what he wanted, but this was beginning to hurt. He called upon his natural strength and shoved his open palm at the elf woman when she was in mid swing. She let out a loud “Oof!” as the air was forced out of her lungs, and she toppled backward down the pile of treasure.

“Enough of this!” Emberwind bellowed. “Testle was an impressive kill. He was ancient and powerful.” Emberwind began to back-step, and his breathing became labored. “But he was stupid. Years of bargaining made him weak and trusting. I trust no one!”

The human form of Emberwind bent and twisted, then in one fluid motion, he exploded in size, stretching out into his full reptilian form. Emberwind lifted his massive head up and reared on his back legs. He spread his wings, which touched either side of the gigantic chamber.

“You no longer have even the illusion of surprise. You have no chance. Your death will be swift, but believe me, excruciatingly painful.” He could not hide his glee as the words escaped his mouth.

As Briez ran to retrieve her second sword, there was a huge inhalation that nearly pulled her from her feet. Emberwind was preparing to breathe flame. Inside, he smiled, watching the tiny hero scramble to get her meager blade. She may have had success had she been able to hit him in the eyes, but such a small weapon would do nothing against his hide.

He was exultant the moment he felt the searing blast leave his mouth. He had not felt such pleasure in centuries. The fire erupted down a hill of gold, turning it into a shining river, and completely engulfing the ground surrounding the elf for a thirty foot radius.

He chuckled loudly as the stream of flame ended, but lost some humor when he realized there had been no scream.

As the smoke lifted, he was shocked to see Briez standing in a puddle of molten gold, holding both swords and smiling wickedly.

“So, you cheat…” he scoffed. She must have an enchanted blade. It was not unheard of for adventurers and heroes, especially dragon slayers, to wield magical weapons that protected them from various forms of attack. That would explain her mad dash for the sword just before the blast; she must be protected from dragon’s breath. That would explain her defeat of Testle, he was not the brightest dragon born.

“You may be immune to dragon flame, but that is hardly the limit of my arsenal.”

Without hesitation, Emberwind decided and brutal and humiliating death would be fitting for Briez. He slammed his head down where she stood. He connected with the quickly cooling gold, but missed the satisfying crunch he had expected. He glanced over to see her rolling to her feet again, laughing. Emberwind began to see red. He slammed again, and again missed. He tried and failed a third time, the elf dodging out of the way at the last second on every attempt.

He bellowed in rage. “DIE!” he screamed as he lifted the front half of his body and drove it down with all of his strength. He was so huge, it didn’t matter how fast she was, there was nowhere to go to doge his immense body.

He stopped suddenly with a massive jolt. Something large was wrapped around his neck, and pushed against his chest. He was shocked to find himself staring into the striking blue eyes and silver face of another dragon.

It spoke, and the voice was familiar, and feminine. “Jard? I would have expected something with more syllables from such an old one as you.”

The silver dragon shoved the larger red dragon back. Although she wasn’t as big, she was much bigger than he would have expected from her kind, and much stronger. “A dragon who hunts dragons?”

“Only the bad ones. You really should have stayed here and enjoyed your golden years, Emberwind. I had not had a single good lead trying to find you until I saw you in the streets. You may have fooled those people, but I can quite literally spot a dragon in the crowd.”

The bigger dragon didn’t waste any more time on words. He breathed another gout of flame at his attacker, hoping at least to blind her. She was almost as nimble as a dragon as she had been as an elf. She leapt to the side of the flame and darted in toward Emberwind. She managed to land a horrific bite on his left arm. The giant dragon shrieked in pain and rage, clawing at the silver dragon’s armored face. His massive claws couldn’t even dent the polished silver of her head, and her eyes remained clamped to protect them.

[Vodstok]

Finally, he planted his hands firmly on her shoulders and shoved with all of his strength. She pulled away, but not without taking a giant chunk of his shoulder. Hot red blood sprayed out of the wound. He stared at her in disbelief as she spit out the piece of him.

“I will take you down a chunk at a time if I need to.” Briez growled. She inhaled sharply, then blew a stream of shocking white at Emberwind’s shoulder. Cold beyond his imagination streaked from the wound down his limbs, wracking him with agony.

Without thinking, and in complete disbelief, Emberwind turned for the entrance to the cave. In a very short period of time, this had gone from a game, to a losing battle. As he slithered out of the cave, the smaller dragon bolted after him. He could hear her getting closer; an unfamiliar emotion crawled over him. Panic.

He could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and barely a second before the silver dragon had his ankle in her mouth, Emberwind burst out of the cave and leapt over the side of the mountain, taking to wing for the first time in centuries.

Briez’s mouth closed on air, but that didn’t bother her. She knew the injured dragon would not get far. She flew out seconds after Emberwind. He tried vainly to dodge her, but Briez was much faster, and much more agile than the old dragon. She sniped at him, taking bites whenever the opportunity presented itself. Emberwind tried to retaliate, but every time he bit back, he bit nothing.

His only hope was to meet her head on and hope that he was stronger, that he could over power her. As she swooped in for another bite, he presented a false opening. Briez took the bait, and Emberwind snapped around and flew into her. The two grappled with each other. Briez was fast, and powerful in her own right, but Emberwind was immense, and his shear size gave him strength she could not hope to match. The two plunged into the side of a mountain, grappling and clawing at one another in an attempt to gain the advantage.

Emberwind knew he had to get in a killing blow soon. He was losing blood, and with it, strength. He wrapped his arms around the smaller dragon’s neck, and began squeezing. She bit at his face. He lifted his chin to avoid her, only realizing too late she was feinting. By lifting his head, he left his long, sinuous neck exposed. Briez’s sharp, horn-like teeth pierced his trunk-like neck, her jaws crushing his neck bones. He squeezed harder, hoping to crush the life out of her before he died.


Briez inhaled through her nose, and then exhaled. Her vicious, cold breath hit Emberwind’s crushed and wounded throat point-blank. The air entering his lungs, and the blood rushing to his brain, froze solid in an instant. The ancient dragon died without so much as a cough.

Briez released her bite after several minutes; she did not take chances. Emberwind had been quite a challenge. She stretched awkwardly. Her limbs hurt, and she was sure that their tumble had broken a wing bone. She gave them a small try, and winced in pain as a broken bone was confirmed. No matter, she would crawl back to the cavern if she needed.

Emberwind had been more of a challenge than the others she had encountered, but she had proven once again that she was the better fighter. Emberwind’s fortune would do the surrounding communities a great deal of good, and was large enough for Briez to finally keep some for herself.

The silver dragon once again turned into an elf and sat down next to the body of her latest mark, and contemplated retirement.

[stygianwitch]

This would make a good series of stories about the Dragon Slayer, especially told from the Dragon's point of view, with each 'episode' about a different Dragon, i like it :cool:

[Vodstok]

Nice. Seems to be mostly positive feedback so far (i have gotten a pm or two)

I had been thinking of making Briez a regular character. It appears that may be a good idea. :D

[Vodstok]

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[Vodstok]

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