Chương 17: The Battle of Aravitrimore

"How is that fair?" Sandy complained. He swept his hand at the sparkling monstrosity in disgust.

"He rolled a one." Vlad shrugged.

"Yeah, but, come on. He's brand new. You gave him bad advice."

"Don't metagame the campaign!"

"I'm not even gonna play, this is stupid. Which one of you wrote this dumb event?" Sandy complained to the whole room. No one spoke up.

"Wait, it's not just Duncan writing the scenarios?" Robin asked.

"Nope!" Duncan said.

"Everyone did. The whole club got together at the start of the season and we voted on scenarios and stuff. Then, we generated conditions and triggers for each match. They all got randomized into those envelopes. My dad did the sorting, so not even I know exactly what's going to happen."

"Huh, cool."

"It is! And what that means is, both of these guys gave you bad advice. Neither actually knows what's in the scenario. Only referees get to see the secrets. When I'm in a match, Vlad or Chuck take over as referee so I can't rule in my own favor.

"That's killer," Robin said.

"I wish I'd been there."

"Next year! You're kind of at a disadvantage since you weren't there. How about this: it's still turn one. If you want, I'll let you mulligan your first move."

"What? No, you can't do that," Vlad protested.

"I'm the referee for their match, I absolutely can," Duncan countered.

"Take the mulligan," Sandy advised.

"Look at those stats. You're gonna get wiped." Robin looked at his diario. His moves were written in pen. He wanted to see what would happen." ¡Es lo que hay!," Robin said.

"Huh?" Duncan squinted." C'est la vie," Vlad translated." Hein?" Duncan joked.

"Por favor, en inglés, Señor Martillo? (What? In English, Please?)""It is what it is. Let's play," Robin said. The War Room bustled with excitement. Robin knew he'd made the right choice, even if it was the wrong move.

"I've been waiting for this all season," Duncan gushed. Robin was now one hundred percent sure it was Duncan's event. Duncan grinned wide as he shook a big handful of dice. * The air around them ripped away as the beast inhaled. Young Bobbert was nearly sucked from his feet. One of Hilg's Shieldbearers grabbed the boy by the hem of his robe and yanked him back to earth. The scattered forces reeled. Some screamed and some prayed. Burbak Breakbow faced his doom with his axe in his hands and a snarl on his lips.

He charged at their invincible foe. Then, all was silent. The war horns in the hills drained away. The hooves of the horsemen fell silent; their savage screams were snuffed. Even Burbak's own battle-cry drained away to nothing. Darkness stole the sun, the sky tinged a queer turquoise, and the entire army shuddered in place. It felt as if every mote of Burbak's being was knocked out of alignment. A flare of searing white light dazzled Burbak and a sound broke the silence, like heavy rain beating against metal.

He charged on, totally blind. His sight returned as a blur of shimmering ghosts. It seemed like an entire mountain was on the move. As the glare faded, he saw a serpentine bulk burst from the earth. Boulders crashed down, great waves of soil shook from its sides and underneath, faceted scales shone like molten silver. Now, the adversary was revealed. The jutting stones were spines. The spiral ridge wound around the chapel was the body of a buried wyrm. Burbak knew their foe. Aravitrimore! The Diamond Drake.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators! No weapon could pierce Aravitrimore's diamond hide. His breath was knives, his strength was inconceivable, and his hunger was insatiable. Entire kingdoms of Dwarves had vanished into that awful maw of faceted fangs. The Halberdiers trembled and broke in terror. The Elves stood frozen in place, hypnotized by the beast's terrible grandeur. The torrential sound was stilled.

There was a disorienting moment where their ears popped as Prescote's Orb of Occlusion broke and space sprang back into place. A great ring of crystal shards were scattered around the Heartbroken Brigade. Prescote the Sage had saved them all. To the east, an entire wing of Reaver Cavalry was ripped apart by Aravitrimore's shardbreath. In the west, the second wing of the Windsworn horsemen broke and fled. General Yureg screamed to reform, but his men were crazed by fear. All were powerless, save Burbak's Berserkers.

Fueled by a hatred older than history, the Dwarves charged forward.

"ARAVITRIMORE! NON TIMEO MORTIS!" Burbak roared the ancient challenge. I fear no death! The prismatic eyes of Aravitrimore eyes fell upon Burbak Breakbow. His jagged maw yawned wide in a glittering grin. After his long underground slumber, a squad of Berserkers would be a perfect snack. The Drake surged forward and the earth shuddered with every step.

"Burbak!" Cinnabinathi cried out. Their bond freed her from the trance. She put her fingers to her lips and blew a shrill whistle to rouse the Hawkmoon from their stupor. With their master dead, the Halberdiers had no one to rally them. The Imperials fled towards the shelter of the ruined keep, in a race with a broken troop of Reaver Spearmen. Out of camaraderie between polemen, or more likely, from sheer terror, neither side attacked the other.

For a mad moment, the Windsworn General charged at the Drake on his lonesome, with a great silver sword raised in either hand. The sight was enough to rally his Horsemen and Spearmen back into the fight. Hilg ignored the craven Reavers and formed his Shieldbearers in a wall between Aravitrimore and the Hawkmoon. A lucky shot might be their only hope. Bobbert the Apprentice buttressed Prescote, for his master could not stand without aid. The effort of casting the Greater Orb of Occlusion had sorely drained the Sage.

"Aravitrimore! I never dreamed I'd see one of the World Drakes! What terrible beauty! Do not meet his eyes, they are the facets of death! The time has come. Unhand me, boy. Give me the Black Scroll."

"Master!" Bobbert cried out and pulled at Prescote's sleeve.

"Do it!" The sage exhorted. He shook his arm free and stood alone on shaky legs.

"Cinnabinathi! Draw the beast to me! I need him close!" Prescote commanded. The Berserkers set upon the Drake. Runagir and Duandan hacked at Aravitrimore's underbelly, but their Dwarf-forged axes shattered against the impervious scales. A great claw crashed down. Runagir rolled aside but Duandan was done. He was swept up and flung into the awful maw. Duandan's heavy armor was no more the skin of a grape against Aravitrimore's diamond teeth. Burbak's truest companion was chewed up in a peal of shrieking steel.

The blackest of rages loomed before Burbak but he had to resist. He needed his wits. Raw strength was nothing against this monstrosity. Seeing their strikes were fruitless, Burbak sprang onto the Drake and began to climb. The diamond scales were sharper than razors. They sliced through his gauntlets and bit into bone, but Burbak climbed on. A single Berserker was as meaningless as a flea to Aravitrimore. Ignoring the Dwarf, the Drake wheeled on the Windsworn Spearmen and drew a deep breath.

The Reavers raised their shields, but stretched hide and reindeer bone were no protection against the bladed breath of the Diamond Drake. They died to a man. The Drake wheeled. His tail swept through three Berserkers and culled them like a scythe. The sound of sorcery caught Aravitrimore's attention. His diamond gaze burned past the Shieldbearers to the doddering Sage and his tiny Apprentice. Again, he began to draw a terrible breath.

"Burbak!" Cinnabinathi cried again, not from alarm, but from amazement. Weeping a trail of blood from a thousand cuts, Burbak Breakbow scaled Aravitrimore's long neck and swung himself right between the great Drake's eyes. The prismatic irises crossed, unable to focus. With a crimson grin, Burbak drew his axe back and hacked at the Drake's slitted pupil. A crystal membrane flicked over the eye to protect it, but the heavy axe cleaved through and bit deep.

Blood and goo flew as Burbak hacked again and again, deep into the jeweled eye. With a roar of pain, Aravitrimore raked a claw across his face and swept aside the crazed Dwarf. Burbak hurtled through the air, crashed into the dirt, rolled forty paces, and was still.

"Aim for the right eye!" Cinnabinathi cried and raised her Hartsbane Bow. The Hawkmoon took aim and launched a volley of shrieking arrows. All fell short save Cinnabinathi's. Her arrow screamed through the black of the dragonseye.

"Run!" she cried. The Elves took flight. Enraged, the blinded Drake charged forward, plowed through the Shieldbearers, and trampled them. Diamond claws cut furrows into the ridge where the Hawkmoon had fled moments before. Aravitrimore howled, loud enough to burst ears. The pierced eye darted crazily about, looking for Cinnabinathi. Instead, Aravitrimore found Prescote the Sage. Prescote was unperturbed by the deafening roar, for his hearing was nearly gone anyway. The spell was nearly complete.

At the final line, Prescote looked up from the Black Scroll and pitted his aged eyes against Aravitrimore's ravaged orbs. His lips curled in a wizened smile. The facets of death indeed! Prescote invoked the final sigil with all his might. As he spoke the ruinous words, the scroll disintegrated into motes of blinding light. So too, did Prescote. In a single, all-consuming invocation, the Sage's entire being was transmuted into raw power. The force was poured upon Aravitrimore in an avalanche of unbearable light.

With a sky-splitting shriek, Aravitrimore turned aside but it was too late. His diamond scales grew luminous as stars and broke apart in a thousand explosions of pure white light. His half-melted remains thundered to the earth. All over the battlefield, the dazzled survivors reeled and wept. When their senses returned, they looked about in awe. They were all witness to a matchless sacrifice, a triumph for the ages. Prescote the Sage was gone. Aravitrimore the Diamond Drake was slain. *"No. Effin.

Way," Sandy moaned as Duncan turned the rhinestone-studded dragon on its side next to Robin's general.

"Language!" Una barked from the doorway. The whole room flinched.