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Magical chains bound the helpless dragon to the ground. Teeth as large and sharp as swords occasionally were bared in the direction of a passing knight, who would continue walking away, sure in the knowledge that know force in heaven or earth could pull the dragon's chains from his severely battered body. The dragon's once lustrous scales now gleamed dully, unhealthily, in the light of the great fire pit that roasted wild pig and pheasant for the knights guarding their latest prize. Signs of the dragon's struggle marked the ground under him where his claws, as large as a grown man's arm, had plowed great furrows of rock and stone from the ground. Eyes that once held back such wild fury and intelligence had now accepted their fate and sat, blue and sullen at the bottom of the sockets.
Magi had come just half an hour ago to continue their work on the wild dragon. For half a year, the great dragon had been chained to the floor, held by chains that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns when the dragon struggled. The Magi came each day and continued to take things from the massive cut they made each morning in the dragon's belly, before healing it each night on their way out the door. The once proud and mighty dragon knew that his life was coming to a slow agonizing end. For each time he breathed he could feel the slow tear deep inside him, and the wild magic that coursed through his mighty body was now gone, held at bay by the civilized magic of the Magi's chains.
The knights guarding the dragon were callous and rude. They ate and drank heartily throughout the night and, come morning, when the Magi arrived, they retired to sleep until the Magi left again that night. Many times the dragon's guards had walked over and used the dragon's claws to sharpen their weapons, some even loosened their belts and urinated upon the filthy creature. In the beginning of his captivity, the dragon would have snapped his massive jaws and blew smoke from his nostrils, but now the dragon just laid upon his side and took whatever depravities the knights decided to inflict upon him. In short, the once magnificent wild dragon was now broken, both in body a spirit and he lay, slowly thirsting and starving to death on rations that would hardly keep a hatchling alive.
Meanwhile, outside of the dragon's prison, a cart with a decrepit old man driving trundled up the stone driveway. A paid of great horses pulled the cart, their hooves making clamping sounds upon the cobblestones, as the man at the reigns coughed and hacked in a cold northern wind that brought with it a freezing rain. Clamped in the driver's teeth was a cob pipe that he would take a draw on every few moments, the light being cast from the pipe lit up the driver's young and vibrant eyes with each slow draw. The pair of knights guarding the cobblestone drive stepped out in front of the cart and held up their chain mail clad hands for the hunchbacked driver to stop the cart.
When the horses pulling the cart finally came to a halt, the driver slowly climbed down out of the cart, like an old man walking down a steep flight of stairs and walked to where the pair of knights stood, their shoulders a few inches apart. The hunchbacked trader hobbled up to the pair of knights, with the help of a dragon's head cane, and one of them said, his breath steaming out of the holes in the fierce looking helmet "Begone from here trader, before I make you." The knight's voice was low and gruff, like an angry war dog.
The driver of the wagon stiffened in his cloak momentarily, before saying "It gets rather cold out here in the rain, my daughter's in the back of the wagon and she's mighty lonely. For a small price." The knights could not see the trader's teeth bite down anxiously on the stem of his pipe.
"We hunger not for some fish wife, leave." The other knight spoke up now, answering for his fellow, who looked over at his comrade in a motion that conveyed his annoyance at being answered for. The trader was momentarily worried that the guards wouldn't take him up on the offer, but then the guard that had been answered for said "Speak for yourself, this armor isn't nearly as warm as it looks."
"If you insist, but get it over with quickly, I want to sit next to that candle upon the back of the trader's wagon anyway's, get as warm as one can be in this damnable armor." The other said.
With that, the trader began hobbling towards the back of his wagon, the cane making a clicking sound with each smack upon the sidewalk. The trader stepped into the cold wind that blew upon the other side of his wagon, the knights behind the trader did not notice him twist the cap from his dragon's head cane, revealing a finely crafted stiletto.
As the knight began to step up into the carriage, which was lit from the inside by an open candle, the silhouette of a woman cast upon the white drapes inside, the almost impenetrable armor of a Knight was opened just a tad, enough for the trader to stab out with his revealed blade, which bit deep into the knight's back. The knight who was sitting beside the lantern hanging on the bumper of the trader's wagon gasped in horror as his comrade fell back out of the wagon, his helmet rolling off to reveal already dead eyes, the trader's poisoned knife having done it's work. The trader suddenly straightened up from his previous hunched position, what the knight had previous thought was a hunchback was revealed to be the hilt of a great broadsword, that his attacker pulled out of it's scabbard in a single fluid motion, bringing it down with all of his strength upon the crown of the knight's helmet. The heavy steel of the knight's helmet was no match for the magical broadsword and the previously mighty piece of armor was parted, as if it were made of parchment.
Kneeling down over the pair of bodies, the trader pushed them both off of the road, where they bounced down the steep incline on either side of the castle's drive until coming to a rest in the mud of the ditch at the bottom, two more bodies added to the filth and debris of the keep that stood over it. Silhouetted against the lighting and thunderstruck sky, the keep where the dragon was held loomed over the trader, as he went back to his cart and got the animals moving again, though they did not make haste, as was the habit of the slow moving mules.
The trader once again pulled his cart to a stop at the massive gates of the castle. The wood was studded and reinforced from the inside, built to withstand a siege of epic proportions. The trader could see the effects of many battles permanently emblazoned upon the wooden portal a map of scars that showed the signs of a hundred battles across the centuries that this castle had stood strong against the wind, rain and the enemies of it's occupants. The rain beat upon the castle gates, running down every possible surface, creating tiny waterfalls upon the roughened surfaces.
Hopping down from the seat of the wagon with a grace that was belied the halting limp that the trader walked with, he stumped around to the back of the wagon. The wagon's doors were equipped with a pair of ornate doorknobs that opened a pair of double doors, allowing the trader to walk inside. Once inside, the trader shivered from the cold of the rain, even packed in layers of cloak and armor, the rain still managed to run down to the skin, where a bone deep chill was slowly forming.
"I'll wait here with the mules." Said a voice from the darkness of a corner. A figure sat upon a barrel filled with nails, picking white teeth with a big bladed knife. Little was visible, aside from the glint of a knife in the oil lantern's light and the point of a nose protruding from a dark cloak.
"Very well, Rael. If I should not return in an hour, go inside. Remember, my friend, the dragon is the only reason we are here. If I should disappear, complete our objective and escape with the dragon. Do not come for me." the man disguised as a trader replied, as he shucked off all but his heavy armor and weapons.
"One more thing, Lucas." Rael said from the corner, as Lucas took a grappling hook from the wall "How do you intend to get the dragon out of there, assuming you can get past the bloodthirsty guards, dogs and guard spirits, of course."
"Have faith, Rael. Dragons fly, do they not?" Lucas said, as he opened the door and stepped out into the rain. His features lit up by the oil lamp hanging from the roof, any who were standing behind the wagon could see Lucas's features. Lucas stood in his heavy armored boots, because of his mission, climbing spikes were attached to the bottom of them. A two handed broadsword was sheathed across his muscular back the hilt peeking over his right shoulder. Lucas had a great black beard that masked a strong jaw line that gave off a look of unwavering righteousness. Laugh lines were at the corners of his mouth and the crinkle to the sides of his kind eyes.
As Rael climbed upon the driver's seat and began to back the wagon down the great castle's driveway, Lucas clutched in his hand a grappling hook and at least fifty feet of heavy rope. Lucas walked around, un hunched and proud, to the front of the wagon. He slowly began to twirl the hook, letting out more and more rope with each revolution, until he let it fly straight upwards with a mighty grunt. The hook soared straight up and over the fortress walls. Lucas began to pull upon the rope in his hands, until it went tight and he could no longer pull it loose. Lucas kicked a foot into the heavy wood of the castle gates and the climbing spikes upon his boots sunk deep into the wood.
The climb, fifty feet straight up in the air, was an arduous one. Lucas would be forced to use the climbing spikes upon his heavy boots to get enough purchase upon the gate to lever himself up a little further. Lucas's muscles stood out upon his arms under the pressure of heaving his bulk up the gate. It took the man several minutes to scale the gate, but he finally made it, his breath was coming ragged by the time he rolled up and onto the walls. Lucas laid there in the dark for many a moment, catching his breath and readying his mind for the task at hand.
Deep in the depths of the castle, the dragon bared it's teeth once more and roared in anger as the knights guarding it began to clean themselves of their revelry and make ready to exchange the dragon to their mage counterparts. They scurried about, packing wine and food into bags and stowing them out of sight of the magi that were due to arrive. The knights took hold of their great swords and stood at attention about the dragon and at the single entrance.
The magi slowly began to trickle into the room in pairs, a few arriving alone. Once all of the magi had arrived, they began to work their magic upon the bound and helpless dragon. The magi knew that the dragon had been hurt so badly that they had to fix the damage before they could continue. The head mage looked to his second, a look of anger upon his face "Where is that boy?" He said "You promised me that he would be here on time, Roland."
Putting up his hands, the second said in an anxious voice "I'm sorry sir, please, he must have been . Allow me to go find him!"
"So you can disappear too?" The head mage growled in a low, evil voice. "No, I think not. The dragon is not long for this world unless we start the ritual now. You will take the young apprentice's place, in repentance for your sloth."
"Master, please, I've been faithful for ten years. Please! Don't do this to me!" The second begged, as the head mage grinned cruelly and said three words, under his breath, the only reason we know of their existence being the movement of the head mage's mouth and the scream of terror that was ripped from Roland's throat.
Roland the Mage's feet began slowly to pick themselves up and sit themselves down. Commanded by the head mage, the second in command was walking across the floor, against his free will, as if the Head Mage had commanded his boots to walk. There was a pleading look in the second mage's eyes, as he sought out any friendly faces in the gathering of magi, but found none. A desperate look crossed the mage's face, as his traitorous feet took the last step to enter the circle of magi, who had grasped hands and were now chanting in a low tone that was inaudible, other than a low rumble, as if the earth itself was heaving. "You are all aware of the fate of the sacrificed!" Roland screamed, tears springing out upon his face "This will destroy my soul. Please!" His voice cracked during the last word.
None of the magi were paying attention anymore, all had fallen deep into the chant that blocked off the outside world. The magi were focusing all of their magical powers upon rending the poor soul in their circle apart, not just physically, but mentally and spiritually. In essence, they were taking the life force itself from Roland, and placing it inside the dragon, who protested with growls strong enough to shake the very castle's foundation.
So strong was their focus, that the chant was not broken, until the great sword of Lucas Fenren plunged straight down through the collarbone of one of the chanting magi. There was a great spout of blood that coated Lucas's blade and armor, which was concealed by the cloak of the missing apprentice. With a great heave of his shoulders and a battle cry filled with effort, Lucas tore his blade from the body of the first fallen and used the momentum to slash the next mage in line, nearly in half.
The magic that was being performed was interrupted by the disappearance of a third of it's strength and not even the Head Mage could continue the chanting, amid the screams of the dying mage whom had been cleaved in two by the sword of justice. The hour remaining magi gasped in horror as they took into account their slaughtered brethren. The Head Mage reacted quicker however and brought up a great ball of energy that he sent hurtling towards Lucas. The energy was visible as a translucent white hanging gash, almost as if the air itself had been gashed open. It flew through the air, as if fired from a bow and all the magi now cowering in fear believed their attacker would be dead in a matter of moments.
To their horror the magic of the Head Mage waned, before disappearing altogether, a full foot from the man, who was slowly walking towards them, his sword held at his side. The Head Mage ordered all of his remaining men to throw their own attacks at this intruder. Fire, lightning and rock disintegrated before coming anywhere near the man, who still walked slowly towards them.
"Protect me, you fools!" The Head Mage cried, hiking his robes up around his thighs and running towards the door.
Lucas cut down one mage, then another, their blood splattered the floors and the walls of the keep. The crimson of his enemies drenched his face and armor, as he cut down the third, who cried pitifully as the sheer force of the blow slammed him against a wall a full five feet away. The awesome and horrible sight of the oncoming warrior caused the remaining mage to pick stone from under Lucas's feet, but the stone did not move while the lifeblood soaked warrior was near. Magic simply evaporated in the warrior's presence.
The once chained dragon roared in unparalleled fury, it's wings lifted high into the sky, as the mystical chains that had burnt scars upon his magnificent scales simply fell apart, the links growing red hot, before melting away into nothingness. A righteous indignation glittered in the dragon's eyes, as it turned it's attention upon a group of knights, the very ones that had subjected it to such mistreatment, who were charging into the keep from their barracks. The heavily armored bodies flew high into the air, as the dragon let go with the first burst of fire he had made in two decades. The magi had to keep the dragon alive and healthy, in order to continue harvesting the magically recreated internal organs each night, this turned out to be their undoing, for as the dragon stood, tall, proud and furious, the knights assigned to guard them were facing the fury of a dragon that had suffered at their hands for over twenty years. It did not go well for them.
Lucas continued his slow walk, following the Head Mage, who was still running, every so often he would fling a bolt of lightning back over his shoulders, but, like everything it simply had no effect. It finally came to a point, where the Head Mage had run out of places to run, and stood upon the fortress wall, watching in horror as his knights were slaughtered by the dragon they had so long abused. For the first time in his life, the Head Mage felt fear, in the face of this man who still walked towards him in an even step.
"Who are you? What do you want demon!?!" he called out at Lucas.
The look upon Lucas's face was that of fury beyond imagining, as he lifted his sword high overhead "I am no demon." he said.
"Then what are you? No man is immune to the effects of magic!" the mage, standing upon the wall screamed, spittle flying from his mouth and soaking his chin.
"I am something you are your masters have not encountered in a long time. The days of your tyrannical rule over Tiran has come to an end, mage. I am the anger of the earth, I am the sword of the righteous, I am the one who will bring you to your knees. I know you have a telepathic link to your master, mage, tell him that I am each and every lash the people of Tiran feel upon their backs. I have refused to believe your magic can hurt me, and it hasn't. I am a free man." Lucas yelled, as he brought the hilt of his blade forward in such a lightning quick movement that it sent the mage spiraling off the fortress walls, where he plummeted a thousand feet to his death, upon the rocks below.
Lucas stood upon the battlements and stared down at the Head Mage's body which was barely visible, impaled upon a rock the very lifeblood he had coveted so much, soaking into the rocks and brush around his now dead body. "A free man." were the words that echoed down, through the rocky spires of the mountains and all the way to the great Tiran capital itself, where the Master Mage's spine involuntarily shivered in fear.
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Magi had come just half an hour ago to continue their work on the wild dragon. For half a year, the great dragon had been chained to the floor, held by chains that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns when the dragon struggled. The Magi came each day and continued to take things from the massive cut they made each morning in the dragon's belly, before healing it each night on their way out the door. The once proud and mighty dragon knew that his life was coming to a slow agonizing end. For each time he breathed he could feel the slow tear deep inside him, and the wild magic that coursed through his mighty body was now gone, held at bay by the civilized magic of the Magi's chains.
The knights guarding the dragon were callous and rude. They ate and drank heartily throughout the night and, come morning, when the Magi arrived, they retired to sleep until the Magi left again that night. Many times the dragon's guards had walked over and used the dragon's claws to sharpen their weapons, some even loosened their belts and urinated upon the filthy creature. In the beginning of his captivity, the dragon would have snapped his massive jaws and blew smoke from his nostrils, but now the dragon just laid upon his side and took whatever depravities the knights decided to inflict upon him. In short, the once magnificent wild dragon was now broken, both in body a spirit and he lay, slowly thirsting and starving to death on rations that would hardly keep a hatchling alive.
Meanwhile, outside of the dragon's prison, a cart with a decrepit old man driving trundled up the stone driveway. A paid of great horses pulled the cart, their hooves making clamping sounds upon the cobblestones, as the man at the reigns coughed and hacked in a cold northern wind that brought with it a freezing rain. Clamped in the driver's teeth was a cob pipe that he would take a draw on every few moments, the light being cast from the pipe lit up the driver's young and vibrant eyes with each slow draw. The pair of knights guarding the cobblestone drive stepped out in front of the cart and held up their chain mail clad hands for the hunchbacked driver to stop the cart.
When the horses pulling the cart finally came to a halt, the driver slowly climbed down out of the cart, like an old man walking down a steep flight of stairs and walked to where the pair of knights stood, their shoulders a few inches apart. The hunchbacked trader hobbled up to the pair of knights, with the help of a dragon's head cane, and one of them said, his breath steaming out of the holes in the fierce looking helmet "Begone from here trader, before I make you." The knight's voice was low and gruff, like an angry war dog.
The driver of the wagon stiffened in his cloak momentarily, before saying "It gets rather cold out here in the rain, my daughter's in the back of the wagon and she's mighty lonely. For a small price." The knights could not see the trader's teeth bite down anxiously on the stem of his pipe.
"We hunger not for some fish wife, leave." The other knight spoke up now, answering for his fellow, who looked over at his comrade in a motion that conveyed his annoyance at being answered for. The trader was momentarily worried that the guards wouldn't take him up on the offer, but then the guard that had been answered for said "Speak for yourself, this armor isn't nearly as warm as it looks."
"If you insist, but get it over with quickly, I want to sit next to that candle upon the back of the trader's wagon anyway's, get as warm as one can be in this damnable armor." The other said.
With that, the trader began hobbling towards the back of his wagon, the cane making a clicking sound with each smack upon the sidewalk. The trader stepped into the cold wind that blew upon the other side of his wagon, the knights behind the trader did not notice him twist the cap from his dragon's head cane, revealing a finely crafted stiletto.
As the knight began to step up into the carriage, which was lit from the inside by an open candle, the silhouette of a woman cast upon the white drapes inside, the almost impenetrable armor of a Knight was opened just a tad, enough for the trader to stab out with his revealed blade, which bit deep into the knight's back. The knight who was sitting beside the lantern hanging on the bumper of the trader's wagon gasped in horror as his comrade fell back out of the wagon, his helmet rolling off to reveal already dead eyes, the trader's poisoned knife having done it's work. The trader suddenly straightened up from his previous hunched position, what the knight had previous thought was a hunchback was revealed to be the hilt of a great broadsword, that his attacker pulled out of it's scabbard in a single fluid motion, bringing it down with all of his strength upon the crown of the knight's helmet. The heavy steel of the knight's helmet was no match for the magical broadsword and the previously mighty piece of armor was parted, as if it were made of parchment.
Kneeling down over the pair of bodies, the trader pushed them both off of the road, where they bounced down the steep incline on either side of the castle's drive until coming to a rest in the mud of the ditch at the bottom, two more bodies added to the filth and debris of the keep that stood over it. Silhouetted against the lighting and thunderstruck sky, the keep where the dragon was held loomed over the trader, as he went back to his cart and got the animals moving again, though they did not make haste, as was the habit of the slow moving mules.
The trader once again pulled his cart to a stop at the massive gates of the castle. The wood was studded and reinforced from the inside, built to withstand a siege of epic proportions. The trader could see the effects of many battles permanently emblazoned upon the wooden portal a map of scars that showed the signs of a hundred battles across the centuries that this castle had stood strong against the wind, rain and the enemies of it's occupants. The rain beat upon the castle gates, running down every possible surface, creating tiny waterfalls upon the roughened surfaces.
Hopping down from the seat of the wagon with a grace that was belied the halting limp that the trader walked with, he stumped around to the back of the wagon. The wagon's doors were equipped with a pair of ornate doorknobs that opened a pair of double doors, allowing the trader to walk inside. Once inside, the trader shivered from the cold of the rain, even packed in layers of cloak and armor, the rain still managed to run down to the skin, where a bone deep chill was slowly forming.
"I'll wait here with the mules." Said a voice from the darkness of a corner. A figure sat upon a barrel filled with nails, picking white teeth with a big bladed knife. Little was visible, aside from the glint of a knife in the oil lantern's light and the point of a nose protruding from a dark cloak.
"Very well, Rael. If I should not return in an hour, go inside. Remember, my friend, the dragon is the only reason we are here. If I should disappear, complete our objective and escape with the dragon. Do not come for me." the man disguised as a trader replied, as he shucked off all but his heavy armor and weapons.
"One more thing, Lucas." Rael said from the corner, as Lucas took a grappling hook from the wall "How do you intend to get the dragon out of there, assuming you can get past the bloodthirsty guards, dogs and guard spirits, of course."
"Have faith, Rael. Dragons fly, do they not?" Lucas said, as he opened the door and stepped out into the rain. His features lit up by the oil lamp hanging from the roof, any who were standing behind the wagon could see Lucas's features. Lucas stood in his heavy armored boots, because of his mission, climbing spikes were attached to the bottom of them. A two handed broadsword was sheathed across his muscular back the hilt peeking over his right shoulder. Lucas had a great black beard that masked a strong jaw line that gave off a look of unwavering righteousness. Laugh lines were at the corners of his mouth and the crinkle to the sides of his kind eyes.
As Rael climbed upon the driver's seat and began to back the wagon down the great castle's driveway, Lucas clutched in his hand a grappling hook and at least fifty feet of heavy rope. Lucas walked around, un hunched and proud, to the front of the wagon. He slowly began to twirl the hook, letting out more and more rope with each revolution, until he let it fly straight upwards with a mighty grunt. The hook soared straight up and over the fortress walls. Lucas began to pull upon the rope in his hands, until it went tight and he could no longer pull it loose. Lucas kicked a foot into the heavy wood of the castle gates and the climbing spikes upon his boots sunk deep into the wood.
The climb, fifty feet straight up in the air, was an arduous one. Lucas would be forced to use the climbing spikes upon his heavy boots to get enough purchase upon the gate to lever himself up a little further. Lucas's muscles stood out upon his arms under the pressure of heaving his bulk up the gate. It took the man several minutes to scale the gate, but he finally made it, his breath was coming ragged by the time he rolled up and onto the walls. Lucas laid there in the dark for many a moment, catching his breath and readying his mind for the task at hand.
Deep in the depths of the castle, the dragon bared it's teeth once more and roared in anger as the knights guarding it began to clean themselves of their revelry and make ready to exchange the dragon to their mage counterparts. They scurried about, packing wine and food into bags and stowing them out of sight of the magi that were due to arrive. The knights took hold of their great swords and stood at attention about the dragon and at the single entrance.
The magi slowly began to trickle into the room in pairs, a few arriving alone. Once all of the magi had arrived, they began to work their magic upon the bound and helpless dragon. The magi knew that the dragon had been hurt so badly that they had to fix the damage before they could continue. The head mage looked to his second, a look of anger upon his face "Where is that boy?" He said "You promised me that he would be here on time, Roland."
Putting up his hands, the second said in an anxious voice "I'm sorry sir, please, he must have been . Allow me to go find him!"
"So you can disappear too?" The head mage growled in a low, evil voice. "No, I think not. The dragon is not long for this world unless we start the ritual now. You will take the young apprentice's place, in repentance for your sloth."
"Master, please, I've been faithful for ten years. Please! Don't do this to me!" The second begged, as the head mage grinned cruelly and said three words, under his breath, the only reason we know of their existence being the movement of the head mage's mouth and the scream of terror that was ripped from Roland's throat.
Roland the Mage's feet began slowly to pick themselves up and sit themselves down. Commanded by the head mage, the second in command was walking across the floor, against his free will, as if the Head Mage had commanded his boots to walk. There was a pleading look in the second mage's eyes, as he sought out any friendly faces in the gathering of magi, but found none. A desperate look crossed the mage's face, as his traitorous feet took the last step to enter the circle of magi, who had grasped hands and were now chanting in a low tone that was inaudible, other than a low rumble, as if the earth itself was heaving. "You are all aware of the fate of the sacrificed!" Roland screamed, tears springing out upon his face "This will destroy my soul. Please!" His voice cracked during the last word.
None of the magi were paying attention anymore, all had fallen deep into the chant that blocked off the outside world. The magi were focusing all of their magical powers upon rending the poor soul in their circle apart, not just physically, but mentally and spiritually. In essence, they were taking the life force itself from Roland, and placing it inside the dragon, who protested with growls strong enough to shake the very castle's foundation.
So strong was their focus, that the chant was not broken, until the great sword of Lucas Fenren plunged straight down through the collarbone of one of the chanting magi. There was a great spout of blood that coated Lucas's blade and armor, which was concealed by the cloak of the missing apprentice. With a great heave of his shoulders and a battle cry filled with effort, Lucas tore his blade from the body of the first fallen and used the momentum to slash the next mage in line, nearly in half.
The magic that was being performed was interrupted by the disappearance of a third of it's strength and not even the Head Mage could continue the chanting, amid the screams of the dying mage whom had been cleaved in two by the sword of justice. The hour remaining magi gasped in horror as they took into account their slaughtered brethren. The Head Mage reacted quicker however and brought up a great ball of energy that he sent hurtling towards Lucas. The energy was visible as a translucent white hanging gash, almost as if the air itself had been gashed open. It flew through the air, as if fired from a bow and all the magi now cowering in fear believed their attacker would be dead in a matter of moments.
To their horror the magic of the Head Mage waned, before disappearing altogether, a full foot from the man, who was slowly walking towards them, his sword held at his side. The Head Mage ordered all of his remaining men to throw their own attacks at this intruder. Fire, lightning and rock disintegrated before coming anywhere near the man, who still walked slowly towards them.
"Protect me, you fools!" The Head Mage cried, hiking his robes up around his thighs and running towards the door.
Lucas cut down one mage, then another, their blood splattered the floors and the walls of the keep. The crimson of his enemies drenched his face and armor, as he cut down the third, who cried pitifully as the sheer force of the blow slammed him against a wall a full five feet away. The awesome and horrible sight of the oncoming warrior caused the remaining mage to pick stone from under Lucas's feet, but the stone did not move while the lifeblood soaked warrior was near. Magic simply evaporated in the warrior's presence.
The once chained dragon roared in unparalleled fury, it's wings lifted high into the sky, as the mystical chains that had burnt scars upon his magnificent scales simply fell apart, the links growing red hot, before melting away into nothingness. A righteous indignation glittered in the dragon's eyes, as it turned it's attention upon a group of knights, the very ones that had subjected it to such mistreatment, who were charging into the keep from their barracks. The heavily armored bodies flew high into the air, as the dragon let go with the first burst of fire he had made in two decades. The magi had to keep the dragon alive and healthy, in order to continue harvesting the magically recreated internal organs each night, this turned out to be their undoing, for as the dragon stood, tall, proud and furious, the knights assigned to guard them were facing the fury of a dragon that had suffered at their hands for over twenty years. It did not go well for them.
Lucas continued his slow walk, following the Head Mage, who was still running, every so often he would fling a bolt of lightning back over his shoulders, but, like everything it simply had no effect. It finally came to a point, where the Head Mage had run out of places to run, and stood upon the fortress wall, watching in horror as his knights were slaughtered by the dragon they had so long abused. For the first time in his life, the Head Mage felt fear, in the face of this man who still walked towards him in an even step.
"Who are you? What do you want demon!?!" he called out at Lucas.
The look upon Lucas's face was that of fury beyond imagining, as he lifted his sword high overhead "I am no demon." he said.
"Then what are you? No man is immune to the effects of magic!" the mage, standing upon the wall screamed, spittle flying from his mouth and soaking his chin.
"I am something you are your masters have not encountered in a long time. The days of your tyrannical rule over Tiran has come to an end, mage. I am the anger of the earth, I am the sword of the righteous, I am the one who will bring you to your knees. I know you have a telepathic link to your master, mage, tell him that I am each and every lash the people of Tiran feel upon their backs. I have refused to believe your magic can hurt me, and it hasn't. I am a free man." Lucas yelled, as he brought the hilt of his blade forward in such a lightning quick movement that it sent the mage spiraling off the fortress walls, where he plummeted a thousand feet to his death, upon the rocks below.
Lucas stood upon the battlements and stared down at the Head Mage's body which was barely visible, impaled upon a rock the very lifeblood he had coveted so much, soaking into the rocks and brush around his now dead body. "A free man." were the words that echoed down, through the rocky spires of the mountains and all the way to the great Tiran capital itself, where the Master Mage's spine involuntarily shivered in fear.
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