Tales of Barad'Dun: Day of the Dragons.

He fell into darkness...

For hours it seemed...

He could not tell how fast he was falling, or if he was even falling at all but levitating in this limbo. He spun about, anxious to get his bearings but he couldn't tell which way was up, down or anything in between. He was garbed in a black vest and pants with a gold sash, all eastern in appearance, but none were familiar to him. As he fell Strider tried to remember the last thing he could before he blacked out. Jadeea; she had shown him her tattoo, her bare body still etched in his mind, and then... The head of a dragon, her dragon. But why had she done this? Everything was starting to blur, the last image he had in his mind was her face, shocked and sad. Maybe she had no intention of doing this.

But where was he? Had he died and ended up in eternal limbo? Well all he could do was hope not; this was the last place he would ever want to be for eternity. He spun to what his best guess was downward and tried to see anything he could. He thought he could see a distant light, but not really a light... Just something besides darkness. Another hour passed or maybe even a matter of minutes, the thing seemed to be getting closer. All of a sudden it grew in size until Strider felt like he was going to crash into it, he braced for impact.

He opened his eyes to find he was standing upon a platform. It was about one hundred feet in every direction, and looked to be made out of coarse sand, but his feet felt to be standing on solid ground. In front of him near the edge of the platform was an opening like the mouth of a cave but didn't seem to go anywhere past the edge. He couldn't see inside the cave but the darkness inside looked different, almost as if it were occupied. As he stared into this new darkness two gold ovals appeared and disappeared, almost like the eyes of a snake, he thought. Strider watched as a creature started to exit the dark cave mouth; it moved slowly and shook the ground as it stepped. The full head of a dragon emerged, scaley, black, and fearsome. It had a shimmery gold underbelly and appeared to be an ancient Easterling breed. As it got closer Strider fell into a weaponless defensive stance. Only twenty feet away the dragon reared up onto it's hind legs and tilted its head to stare him in the face. It opened its mouth revealing countless razor-sharp teeth and a long red tongue; it released a deep growl.

"Are you ready, boy?"

From her vantage point atop Taco's massive shoulders, whisper could see not ten, but twenty hooded figures coming in a loose circle, closing in on them. The crowd of market goers was as yet unaware, but she, the silent assassin sensed the danger.

"Um, Taco..." She said, twirling her head about watching as the circle grew tighter.

"what girl?" Taco said as he continued to stroll beside Akeria and Stoneheart.

One of the cloaked figures, suddenly threw off his cloak. He was a dark haired Elf, with red glowing eyes and a dragon tattoo on his chest and stomache. The Elf produced a short horse bow, black arrow already nocked.

"T-t-taco!" Whisper's normally quiet voice had risen sharply.

Taco stopped and tried to look up. "What?"

The Elf bowman pulled his string taught and the arrow was pointed at Whisper or Taco's head. He let fly and the bow let out a loud THWAAANNNGGG.

"Duck!!!" Whisper yelled. She threw the top half of her body back and soon formed an upside down 'U'. Taco grabbed the girl's legs tightly, not understanding the sudden acrobatics. A zinging in the air did however, snap his senses into combat mode. Too late for him to move, his eyes saw the black arrow as it flew just above his scalp and struck off the Red Top hat that Akeria had just bought him from a market vendor.

Taco began to steam with anger.

"My hat!" He was beside himself with rage. He now saw the Elf archer nocking another arrow. People had begun to scatter away from him, yelling in fear. Taco grabbed the only thing in his hands and threw it at the Archer. Whisper screamed as she flew through the air.

"Taaaaaccccoooo!!!!"

The troll suddenly realized what he'd done and leapt after the girl hoping to catch her, but she flew faster than an arrow at the surprised Archer.

Whisper balled up and canonballed into the elf, knocking him over. She hit the ground hard and lay in a half daze, trying to find her dagger that was sheathed at her belt.

The elf shook off his momentary surprise and reached for a cleaver he had hung upon his own belt, but a mighty flying kick from a mountain troll pounded him into a leather worker's stall, and the Elf was out for the count.

The cloaked figures were all yelling and charging in, some with clubs, some with cleaver's and some with axes. Several bystanders were chopped out of the way.

Groups of Royal Militiamen were hit before they were even aware of the danger.

Templar came rushing in with his little hammer, the one he carried around as a sidearm when he couldn't carry its big brother. Soon several Dragon Cult men were down with broken knees.

A huge Orc, with a dragon tattoo on the top of his green skinned scalp, rushed towards taco. The orc was obviously Uruk Hai and swung two spiked clubs, one in each hand. Taco dodged both of the Orc's first two swings and smiled like a schoolboy playing ball.

Suddenly an Arrow thudded into the Orc's forehead and he fell to the ground. Taco looked back quickly. Akeria was standing close by with a brand new bow. Beside her, a merchant held out his hand. She dropped a few coins into the hand, and the merchant produced a quiver of arrows.

"Like my new bow hun?" akeria asked as she notched another arrow.

"As long as you shoot straight." He said with a smile.

"Are you saying I can't shoot straight? Dear!" She said with an angry look. She notched another arrow and let it fly. "Right wrist!" She called out.

The arrow struck a clansman in the right wrist as he was about to swing a heavy mace down on the head of the Dwarve.

"Elves, they're so sensitive." Taco muttered as he roared to life, jumping at several Dragon men at once. The market was now in bedlam with people running everywhere and a large brawl taking place in its very center.

One of the Dragon Clan stood over the half-dazed Whisper, holding a sword over her chest, bloodlust in his eyes. He raised the sword quickly and brought it into a downward motion when suddenly...

the sword was gone. It simply disappeared. The Clansman hesitated for just long enough for Whisper to stand up.

"Look!" she said, as she pointed just behind him, "Someone is behind you, about to kill you with a dagger!" The clansman turned around to defend himself and deservingly received a sharp stab, directly into his spine with Whisper's dagger.

"Oops," she said in her girlish deviousness, "I was three seconds ahead of myself."

She then turned to face Rilith, who held the clansman's blade in his left hand. She thanked him with a nod of the head before running toward the troll. Rilith smiled triumphantly and took a moment to bask in the glory of being a hero. Suddenly, however, he felt a slight rustle in his hair. He pulled a small pink note from his hood reading,

Behind You.

Rilith immediately whirled around, blade still in hand, which sliced directly into the torso of another clansman. He then nodded toward Whisper, who was somehow still near the troll, as thanks for the warning.

"Bodulfar!" Comes a voice from the Harbor Gates. "Bodulfar!!!" Follows several voices. Soon a knot of mail clad, Norse men arrive behind large round shields, carrying spears, axes , swords and the gray banner of the War Wolves with red wolf scratches.

Oddvar the Terrible pushes his way through his line of men, and swings about his twin, red bladed axes. A smile surfaces on his face as he see's the bedlam in the Market.

"Boys!" He yells over his shoulder. "Let's go have some fun!"

The Men cheer and Oddvar leads the way as the knot of War Wolves rush into the fray.

Rilith half-smirked at the ironic rescue, and turned his gaze to his palm, which still clasped the purse of Demi. His smirk became full as he pocketed it, and turned his attention to the encounter at hand. Quickly he scanned the situation, then his surroundings, the only thought ringing in his head being the phrase constantly pounded into his head by the late king, "Remember, Battlefield awareness!". Amidst the scuffle he selected his target, the unconscious elf. Slowly he pulled up his cowl and acquired a cart, emptying a portion of hay. He heaved the elf into the pile, and covered him with the rest of the hay. Slowly he rolled the cart, the lumbering way a worker does, to a side alley. Out of view he drags the unlucky elf out and strips him of his dagger and cloak. He looked at the elf in a questioning manner, deciding whether or not to, "sever a loose end", but shrugged and instead removed his coinpurse. He headed back into the fray area, hoping his new disguise would hold. He approached the group of remaining cult members and turned to side with them, brandishing his blade at the troll, the archer, and the assassin. He gave a small wink and began to sink behind the cult members ranks as some charged off to deal with the strange group with crimson starred sashes. He held his dagger high above one member and slit around the throat swiftly, stabbing a second in the throat as well, the few in front unaware of the quiet deaths of their comrades. A bloodlust grew in his eyes as he softly muttered, "Just when I thought today would be a lazy day..."

"Konradr!" Came the cry. It was distant at first, or so it seemed, shrouded as it was in mirky darkness.

"Konradr!" Louder yet, and creating a ray of light through the blackness. Suddenly the world shook and light crashed into the man's eyes.

"Wha...?" Konradr said as he stirred from where he lay on the cold, stone floor. The face that greeted his waking was mostly hidden beneath a steel spangenhelm with a large, ornate nasal. The worried eyes were those of young Templar. He crouched over him, resplendant in his long, flowing gray tabard with red wolf slashes across the chest. He also held the shaft of his favourite spear. Templar shook the old man again.

"Konradr, are you okay?"

As he adjusted to the light, he suddenly became aware, not only of Templar, but of all the rubbled stone that lay scattered on the floor about him. His shoulder's and back began to ache as his memory emerged from the dark as well.

"The wall." He said slowly. "It...collapsed..."

Templar shook his head. "No, The Dragon, Diraq attacked and broke through."

Konradr sat up, shaking his white mane of hair and trying to remember everything.

"Diraq? That was the Dragon Kilanos was warning me about." He said. "I was talking with him when the Wall exploded."

Templar helped Konradr to his feet.

"But wait, Kilanos said that could only happen if the Dragon Cult got the Horn of Diraq into the city!"

"They did." Templar said grimly.

"But how?"

"I will tell you, but we must be going the city is in chaos."

Konradr looked about for his axe and his shield. He picked them up from the floor and felt the cool breeze that was now flowing into the room from the large hole in the wall. Rubble and dust were everywhere, covering Kilanos's desk and other furnishings.

A short distance away, on the ground, was a broken bow, and a quiver of unshot arrows.

"Where's Kilanos?" Konradr ask's.

"I think Diraq got him." Templar said, looking down.

"What?" Konradr couldn't believe it. First to loose their valiant Adunakhor, Surt, on their journey home from a campaign in Aquilonia, and now, Kilanos?

"Come, I'll explain all but we must hurry." Templar urged. Konradr held up a hand and walked first to the hole in the wall. Through the hole he could see a blue sunlit sky smudged with black smoke from fires burning within the city. Shouts and the clamour of fighting could be heard. Worst of all was the distant shadow flying among the clouds. A winged devil that carried in its deadly claws, the body of a large man wearing the khaki tabard of the royal army.

"Kilanos." Konradr said softly, a tear falling down one cheek. He turned and picked up the quiver of arrows that lay on the floor. "I will avenge you my friend, I swear by Odin and the Hammer of Thor."

Konradr spun around with great determination upon his face and rushed for the door.

"Come on Templar! Don't stand around lollygagging."

"Yes sir." Templar hurriedly fell in behind his Shipmaster.

"Tell me everything. What happend in the market square? How did the Dragon Cult get the damn Horn into the city? What the hell happend to Nightmare, he was suppose to warn us!"

Konradr threw the large doors open and rushed out, Templar trying to keep pace with the old man and fill him in on what had been happening for the last hour in the city of the Western Tower.

The amber stone hall echoed with is his tale, and this is what he said....

“Everything's in pandemonium, sir. Fights are breaking out over the market streets all the way down to the slums. Panic is causing the citizens to flee wildly. Looters are everywhere and........,” his words stopped mid sentence and his eyes drifted over to curtains covering one of the many windows.

Konradr got the same feeling and slowly raised his axe and approached the slightly flowing fabric. With his left handed he gestured Templar to stand back and then with one motion quickly drew the curtain and swung down his weapon.

He stopped upon recognizing the person standing before him. Konradrs blade now pointed to the smiling face of a jester, his glasses slowly sliding down his nose and his hands raised in surrender.

“Acrid! What are you doing in these halls?” the old sea dog asked as he returned his trusty axe to his side.

“Well I'm trying to find Taco. I heard some loud crashing noises from this way and thought it might be him, he makes those kind of noises often you know,” he said as his jesters cap bobbed and swayed, making the bells on the ends jingle, “I've been looking for him all day.”

Both the Warwolves raised an eyebrow. Regardless if it was out of curiosity or just as a shrug, Acrid took as a prompt to explain his searches exploits.

“First I went to Taco and Kitty's favorite pub, but no luck. I checked their usually quarters as well, but no luck there either. Then I decided I'd go ask Strider, as I needed to deliver a gift to him as well, no luck with him either. He just laid on his bed like he was in sleep but his eyes were open. Maybe he just didn't feel like talking, I still find it kind of rude not to at least acknowledge me but being the better man I still gave him his look alike doll,”

“Look alike doll?” Konradr asked intriguely.

Derailed the jester then shook his head while saying, “Oh, right!” and withdrew two small dolls from his cap. Both made of felt with button eyes sewed in place, one in resemblance of the grizzled man before him and the other of his subordinate behind him. Respectively, they were handed a doll.

“Uh, thank you...,” they said in unison as they inspected the doll they were given.

“But anyway, like I said. After I left Strider's place I heard sounds from over here and came to investigate,” Acrid then lifted a pointed finger to his chin and looked up in contemplation, “Come to think of it, I heard sounds coming from the market area too. What's all that about? Why such a noisy day? Is something going on?”

Templar's right palm flew quickly to his own forehead with a slap while Konradr just shook his head while looking downward.

What strange minds fools have.

"Looks like the place to be is now in the market." Konradr said. He looked at his felt doll again and smiled. "Quite a nice likeness, thank you Acrid." He put it in a pouch on his belt and then began his hurried march again.

"Come along fool." He said as he left.

Templar and Acrid both looked at one another.

Konradr realized neither were behind him and he stopped to look back.

"Templar! Acrid! lets go! Times a wasting." He continued on. The two fell in behind him sheepishly.

"Something tells me we will find Taco in the Market as well."

They hurried along the narrow alley as it twisted and turned between walls of amber hued stone. A woman scampered by, going in the opposite direction, tugging the hand of a child. Soon other civilians passed them, mostly old folk, women and children. Some however, were young men, bloodied or worse ,being carried by friends or neighbors.

Konradr looked again at Acrid.

"You say, Strider is at home, in bed?" He asked incredulously.

"Aye" Acrid said, his hat jingling as they walked. "Seemed dead to the world."

"Was he breathing?"

"Aye."

"And alone?" Konradr said, and, with a slight grin, added. "No, young, um, lady lying about, maybe hiding in another room or under the bed?"

"No, didn't see any young ladies. Only that monkey of his. Kept chattering and beating his little drum right next to Strider's head. Didn't wake 'im though."

"That's odd. Templar we'll have to check into that."

"Yes Shipmaster." Templar said. He had to yell now. The noise of the commotion in the market was much louder. Echoing off the stone walls of the alleyway.

"You haven't told me what's happend to Nightmare either."

They turned the last corner and before them an opening into the market. Pandemonium was everywhere. Upturned carts of goods, Mobs of men and beings of every ilk in every uniform of the city, were in a massive scrum. Shields were bashing, swords were slashing and hacking, and arrows zipped like angry wasps through the very air.

"Good lord." Templar said. He made the sign of the cross and then pulled his hammer from his belt.

Suddenly two cloaked figures flew through the air, screaming with their arms and legs flailing like mad. A head appeared growling from where the two had been launched.

"Taco!" Acrid said. And off he went, running into the throng.

Templar padded Konradr on the shoulder. "Over there." He pointed to a group of Gray clad men fighting in a circle of round shields. One man, short and sturdy, who was smiling like a crazed lunatic, swung a great axe in great arc's, keeping back a knot of purple cloaked figures. It was Oddvar the terrible in his prime element, battle.

"Bout time you showed up Brother!" Oddvar yelled.

"Let's go Templar. We've work to do." Konradr drew his mace and axe and the two charged into the melee.

In the pitch black void of darkness, Strider and dragon faced each other. The long serpent began to crouch and coil backward preparing for a strike. Without a weapon Strider knew all he could do was to trust his reflexes and avoid the lunge, his only option was to hold out and hope something changed.

Here it comes!

The dragon leapt, his claws extended and his jaw close behind. Strider made a mad dash to the side and ended with a dodge roll, standing right afterward and quickly strafing towards the back of the beast. The dragon twisted to face Strider and the body followed in a quick slithering fashion. A large talon now approached the wayward adventurer. Strider double took and quickly back-petaled the opposite direction to flee the hit. The claw landed and griped the terrain.

“Your speed can never compare to mine!” the dragon snarled.

Strider winced as he looked down. The last attacked had grazed and blood now trickled from his calf. No time to think about it, the next advance was upon him.

The battle lasted for what seemed days to the young hero. More and more bruises, scrapes and cuts had been added. He was getting tired and his reflexes and natural speed seemed to be sapped from him.

Urggggh! He landed on his left arm while the teeth of the lizard scraped the ground only a yard away.

Yep, it's broke. He thought as he ran a distance away while holding his shoulder. He then slowed to a stop, something he had not done in the whole experience. A calmness now took his mind as he turned to look at his foe slithering towards him.

“No more! I got other things to be doing right now!” Strider shouted.

The beast continued to raise upon its haunches. It barred its fangs and glared its eyes.

As it launched the final assault, Strider by reflex reach towards his left and withdrew what was not there before, a glimmering, shining falchion with the words “Determination of Will” inscribed beautifully on the hand guard. He raised the sword and felt a new energy flow into him. The blade slid in between two of the top fangs and halted the beast. He held this stance for only a split second before slicing to the left, cutting out a large fang. The dragon lurched backward and roared upward in agony. With it's jaw wide open, Strider could see the roof of it's mouth. He turned the blade around in his palm and aimed high, his muscles rippled and the blade left his hand as it was thrown. It flew perfectly straight as if guided and as it approached it's target it's speed increased tremendously. It became a blinding white light as it pierced though the great dragons skull and continued on its path into the void-like background. As if the darkness itself had been hit, the white light began to grow while the black dissolved.

Now the lone Strider stood in the vast light, nothing around him except in the distance he could see his own body floating, unconscious. He took a few steps towards his new goal knowing this would lead him home. Then he felt something swirling and growing behind him. He turned his head and watched as small shadows began to rise and form the body of the wounded dragon.

“You imbecile!! You could have had immortality and all it would of cost you was your soul!” the shadows bellowed.
Panic stuck, Strider now turned away and threw himself into the blinding white rift to escape.

Strider opened his eyes to see the familiar sight of his ceiling, although it seemed to be much higher than he remembered. He realized he was now laying on the floor. He turned his head to the right and saw a shoe.

Nice looking shoe......wait, I wear the same pair.... he thought, now bewildered by his surrounds.

He looked closely at the shoe. It was taller than he was and in the reflection of the buckle he saw not his normal piercing eyes but instead two round buttons sewed to a felt doll that looked oddly like him.

The now miniature Strider began waving his knobbly cotton filled arms wildly and ran in a few circles in confusion. After he has gotten the shock out of his system he then focused on his next course of action. He knew he needed to find someone, anyone, that could help him. He looked around the room, the door was shut, his body laid on the bed, motionless with a tired-out monkey now sleeping on his chest. The window remained open and his nightstand was placed within a short distance of it.

Now inspired, he went up to the wooden monolith. He reached up to the first knot to began his climb. The doll did not have any fingers but he felt as if they extended invisibly from the small paw. He gripped and pulled up and then stretched for his next hand hole. He missed and tumbled down a small way, rattling the nightstand slightly. This small motion was just enough to cause a small needle to plummet downwards off the top. As he was getting up the needle pierced through him. He repeated his confusion dance again before realizing he felt no pain. He pulled the needle out and shrugged.

That could be advantageous. Strider thought as he resumed his assent.

Once at the top he leaned out the window and looked down. He had been though this same window many times in the past but now with such a small frame the fall looked incredible. The little figure rallied up his courage and jumped towards the streets below. He hit the ground with a plop but didn't feel any pain. Standing as tall as he could he began to try and flag down a passerby. This proved more difficult than expected as he had no mouth and therefor could not speak.

As he followed a elderly man while waving his arms above his head, he then experienced the sensation of quickly rising. A young girl with auburn hair holding the hand of her mother had swept him off the street. Strider squirmed a little in her grasp but couldn't defeat the size difference.

As the mother lead the child, they walked hurriedly away from the direction of the market place. The two reached a street and as the mother went to take a step across, her daughter grabbed the back of her dress and pulled, tripping the mother backward. Not even a second later a loud crash was heard as a large piece of a nearby building was hurled to the ground where the mother had attempted to walked. Screams of warning about the approach of the dragon flying above the city could be heard all around. The mother stood up and dusted herself off nonchalantly before picking up her daughter while issuing the praise of “Good girl.”

As they continued on their path, Strider watched the mother-daughter pair with astonishment.

How did that girl react so quickly? he thought Ughh I wish I could get their attention.

A small and cute giggle escaped the girls mouth, “Don't worry, I'll pay attention to you.”
What?! You can hear me?! Strider reacted as he looked up at the child's face.

He saw that her eyes had a glaze about them and they seemed to stare endlessly into the distance. Something remarkable now dawned on him. This girl was blind.

“Of course I can hear you Strider. You may not have a voice but your soul speaks loud,” she said with a charming, soft voice that held within it an intelligence not matching her age. “I'm Talya, and I'm a Seer,” she introduced as her fingers clamped onto Strider's paw in the form of a handshake gesture.

Strider was thoughtless in shock.

“I'm only 7 and a half years old so don't try charming me because your too old,” she said while sticking out her tongue.

Strider snapped back in a grew defensive, I am not! I'm onl-
“OLDDDD!!” the girl yelled in a childish matter before giggling at her own joke.