Previous Chapter / First Chapter / Next Chapter


Five Dragons: TLoP: Chapter 24: Burning Home


The opening front door of the ‘Iron Maiden’ caught the noise and all the voices inside the tavern silenced. The guests, as well as Roland and Kyndle, looked at the front door in surprise.

A uniformed man fell through the doorway, breathing heavily. Exhausted, he held his torso down and blood ran down his left arm from a fresh wound. He struggled to hold his upper arm, in which a broken arrow was stuck. His uniform was the colors of the Ironwing Guard.

Roland saw the desperate look on the man's face. “Anthon?!” He wondered, when he recognized him. He suddenly got up, causing his chair to fall backwards. “Tamara! A bandage, quickly!” He called to the landlady and went to meet the injured. As soon as Roland had reached him, he fell to the ground exhausted.

“They were everywhere.” The guardsman gasped. “Came as a complete surprise.” Roland could see the fear in his eyes. Together with Tamara, they raised the man up and accompanied him to a nearby table. Roland sat across from him and looked at him with a serious expression on his face. Meanwhile, Kyndle had also joined and placed herself with a quiet coo behind her partner. Just like him, she eyed the guardsman carefully. “What happened?” He asked seriously.

Anthon took a deep breath and looked at Roland in panic. “Two of us were on patrol.” He began hesitantly. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Just when we got back to the gate, we noticed it. Dark clouds came out of nowhere and stacked on top of the main house. In addition, small flashes of lightning ran through this phenomenon. At first we thought it was Aaros doing an experiment or something. But he and Torben ran frantically out of the barracks and yelled at us. We should take cover.” The man's eyes widened in shock as he relived the events and Roland listened attentively to his words. The man rubbed his forehead in panic. His eyes trembled with a glassy look.

“If only we had listened to them!” He complained out loud as his thoughts put the memories together.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..


“What's the unnecessary hustle and bustle?” One of the guards wondered, when he saw Torben running towards him with waving arms. A faint thunder resounded from the black cloud over the property. Shortly afterwards, a flash of lightning fell straight down on one of the soldiers. The man trembled as the concentrated strength caught him. His eye sockets caught fire and the lightning spread to the next. Anthon stared, as if rooted, in the deadly light that was hurtling towards him. At the last second he was thrown to the ground by Torben and the lightning rustled over their heads. Aaros stood in the trajectory with his staff raised. The deadly force soared through his medium, which he could only hold on trembling. With his left arm stretched out into the sky, the energy discharged in this direction and evaporated on the horizon.
Torben, breathing heavily, straightened up and also put Anthon on his feet. They looked around in amazement. The guard grabbed the horn on his belt and alerted the property.

The dark clouds quickly broke down, divided, and piled up in three places around the main house. Another large cloud piled up direct in front of the entrance and rotated around its own axis. A greenish shimmer penetrated the black smoke from above and instantly let it evaporate. What remained was a large armored figure, panting heavily. He stood ready to fight and the floor vibrated slightly when he stamped with his foot. He let his heavy axe fall noisily on the floor. At the same time, the three columns of smoke opened to portals and began to glow with a purple glow.

“That can't be true!” gasped Aaros heavily as he turned to the big one and recognized the horned helmet. “This is a General of the Northern Empire.” “What on Wyverex’ shadow does one of them here!?” Torben interjected in confusion.

Alarmed, the Ironwing guards rushed outside and lined up in front of the tall figure. A low growl came from him as he stared at the men of the property, demanding. The dim look of his bright yellow eyes on the humans, for a short time a purple shimmer lighted up. The figure bowed its head to the side and sent a deafening hiss across the property. Shortly afterwards, many opponents stormed through the portals and immediately attacked the guardsmen. Shadow armors and walking dead moved through the shimmering surfaces. Armed with black crossbows, they relentlessly fired their bolts. Some stood petrified, looking frightened into the dark, putrid faces of the attackers.

“Shields up!” Koris roared across the square. With the command to regain consciousness, they were able to react just in time. The projectiles hit with such force that some unexpectedly dropped their shields. These were no longer a special defense for their opponents and were slaughtered in cold blood. With an angry expression on his face, Koris raised his weapon, but was surprised to find, that the enemies completely ignored him. Without looking at him, they simply walked past him and focused only on his soldiers. Torben grabbed his sword and stormed into the line of attack. With targeted blows, he disarmed one of the crossbowmen and knocked his helmet off. Headless, the shadow armor drew its sword and attacked Torben again. From below it swung the sharp weapon. But he was able to parry the attack in time and pushed himself hard against the blade. “I already hate these things!” Torben scolded out loud.

A loud thunder echoed from his back and a bright flash shoot past him. This hit the shadow armor and the subsequent shock wave pushed Torben back a little. A ghost-like figure emerged from the lifeless armor and smoked over the property. The armor pieces fell to the ground and lay motionless. Torben straightened up and nodded to Aaros in confirmation. “Thanks.” Aaros swung his wand around in front of him. A wall of flame started up in front of him and followed his swinging movement against the attackers. This brought some air between the attackers and the defenders.
A faint smile grew on Torben's face when he saw the burning armors and how their spirits rose. Shortly thereafter, he felt a shock under his feet. He turned and looked at the big opponent in front of him slightly overwhelmed. “You're kidding me?” He said sarcastically and jumped to the side just in time, before the attacker's heavy weapon nearly crushed him. The axe trembled in the ground. Aaros saw how his friend had escaped the massive blow and stood ready to fight behind the enemy. The general picked up his mighty two-handed axe again and waved his head to one side. From the corner of his eye he looked at Aaros behind him. Torben raised his blade and stared at him tensely. The tall figure took a heavy step forward and swung his massive weapon in front of him in a semicircle. With an elegant turn, Torben jumped over it and landed kneeling in front of his opponent. He raised his eyes carefully to see how his attacker let the heavy weapon fall from above. With a roll to the side, he dodged the black steel and landed a hit with his sword. The blade cut the attacker on the side below his arm.

The general gave a low growl as he turned clumsily. At that moment, Aaros hit the floor in front of him with the tip of his staff. Many cracks formed and moved towards the large shape. They came together in front of him and a pointed rock shot out of the earth. This heavy fist threw the general backwards with great force. Exhausted, Aaros leaned on his staff and looked intently at the portals from which opponents were still pouring. “We have to close these cracks first, otherwise it makes no sense.” He said. “Down!” Torben roared at him and suddenly threw him to the ground. At that very moment a bolt shot over him. The projectile flew on and hit Anthon's arm. The force was enough to knock him down hard.

“Aaros, Torben! We're retreating to the main house!” Koris called to them and beckoned them to him. Then he took a desperate look at the battlefield. His soldiers braved these opponents bravely, but they were simply too few to win the fight. Aaros straightened up and hurled a scorching fireball at the shooter, then nodded in confirmation to the captain. Torben meanwhile grabbed Anthon and dragged him to the stables.

The general snarled up again and growled angrily at Aaros. His right arm was broken and angled in an unnatural way. Aaros, on the other hand, created a high ring of flames around one of the portals, preventing further opponents from coming out of it. He also pointed the tip of his wand at the top of the magic door and muttered softly unclear words to himself. The crystal shimmered purple and the portal began slowly to close.

The general clumsily turned his head as he gripped his arm with his left hand. Roaring loudly, he tore it once and turned it back in position. With a loud crack he straightened the broken bone and picked up his heavy two-handed axe from the floor. Aaros had closed the first crack and exhaled exhausted. Then he noticed the general. He rolled his eyes slightly overwhelmed. “That's new.” He swore to himself and lifted his staff up again.

Torben leaned the wounded Anthon against the stable wall. “Take cover!” He hissed frantically and disappeared behind the corner. He stood again next to his comrade and raised his weapon ready to fight. “Come on, we can do it.” He called confidently with an amused grin on his face. Aaros lowered his forehead briefly and smiled too. “Just like in the old days.” He added. “Only this one has less scales.”

The dark general raised his axe menacingly and stared at the two men. A low growl came from the visor of his big helmet and he took a slow step towards his opponents. A faint tremor whizzed beneath his feet and the black metal hissed through the air. Torben took a quick step to the side and the heavy axe fell to the ground next to him. He jumped on the handle of the weapon and made an elegant flip over his opponent. Landed behind him, he stuck his blade between the plates of his heavy armor, where it got stuck unexpectedly. The general sat up painfully and struck Torben aside with his fist. With a growl, he turned to the lying man and bent to grab him, but just then a bright flash of lightning caught him from the sky. Aaros saw his colleague and sighted the blade in the back of his opponent. The arcane energy slid over the sword into his body and made him shiver hard. The blade began to glow and smoke rose from the helm visor of the tall figure. Finally, Aaros moved in a turn towards him, waving the tip of his staff against the general. The lightning fell silent, shortly after a tip of rock shot out of the ground and hurled Broderick against the stone wall of the main house. The tall figure sagged weakly to the ground. Smoke rose from his armor and the glow of the sword in his back slowly dimmed.

Aaros and Torben stood confidently next to each other when another cloud appeared in the sky. It circled menacingly over the property and sent a green flash between the two. Aaros was able to intercept most of the blow with his staff. Torben was less fortunate and was thrown violently to the stables. Anthon startled in cover, when the hunter landed painfully next to him.

The cloud contracted and took the form of a shadow that burst into green flames. With a sinister laugh, a hovering person emerged in a red robe. She wore a silver mask over the face, one half happy, the other sad, and a golden staff in hands. The head of the staff was shaped like a fire-breathing dragonhead. A purple glow sparkled from the black eye sockets. Panting weakly, he hovered menacingly over the general lying on the ground. “Everything I must do myself!” He gasped and turned his staff on his back. He raised his free hand to his face and opened his bony fist, a green flame awoke, which he threw down at the general hissing. The fire wrapped around his slightly trembling body and shook it hard once. A dull growl awoke in him and he sat up heavily.

Torben glanced around the corner of the barn and couldn't believe his eyes. “Fuck! Now we really have problems!” He swore and turned to Anthon. He looked at him with a serious look. “Listen!” He began firmly, grabbed his collar and put him on his feet. “Roland is still in Stronos. Go to the Iron Maiden and tell him to go to Drakensang immediately!” “And how should…?!” “I don't care how you do it, drag him there if necessary!!” He shouted into his face and pushed him through the stable doors. “Straight to the castle!” He called after him.

The injured soldier frantically jumped on a horse and dashed through the gate. The necromancer saw him ride away and, laughing, threw a green fireball at him. Crouched, Anthon rode away from the battlefield. He felt the scorching heat that passed over his head and hurried to the King’s Road towards the capital of Parem. A threatening column of smoke rose up behind him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..


Roland listened carefully to the guardsman. He looked hopefully at the man. “What about Catherine, Rebecca and everyone else?” He asked aloud. Exhaling, Anthon closed his eyes and waved his head in the negative. “I don't know.” Roland got up frantically and looked at Kyndle seriously. He didn't have to say anything, she couldn't have seen it more clearly in his eyes. Without further hesitation she got up and stood confidently next to him.

“Roland!” Anthon started again and pulled him to the table by his arm. “Torben said you should go straight to Drakensang!” Roland looked at him silently and jerked his arm out of his grip. “He can’t be serious.” He protested. Angrily he raised his hand to the entrance. “Ironwing is on fire!” he said angrily. The symbol under his right glove began to glow. “My home is burning, everyone who means something to me is in danger and I should just go away?! Forget it!” With quick steps he went outside. Kyndle watched him go with a concerned “Chirp” and followed her partner shortly thereafter. “Don't do that, Roland!” Anthon's voice echoed behind. But Roland didn't hear him, didn't want to hear him.

He paused only briefly under the door frame, and finally looked straight ahead. Standing on the cobbled street in Stronos, his eyes shifted to his horse, which was waiting next to the tavern. With a long exhalation, Roland walked towards the animal, but was unexpectedly slowed down by something. Kyndle stood behind him and tugged at his coat with her mouth.

His gaze fell on her worried eyes with slight anger. The turquoise edge of her pupils shimmered weakly in the deep blue color. “Not go.” He heard her gentle words in his mind. Roland closed his eyes, avoiding the warm visual contact. With a stubborn look, he mounted his horse and adjusted his medium. He exhaled strongly when Kyndle stood beside him and nudged him hard in the arm. “Roland…” Determined, he glanced at the street.

“I know what you want to tell me.” He said tense. A low cooing came from her throat as Kyndle looked at him with a wet look. He turned his face to her, where she saw some tears in his eyes. “More family we don't have.” He whispered, and Kyndle looked at him for a long moment. He saw a bright sparkle in her sapphire blue eyes. “Will come with you.” She nodded in agreement and swung herself into the air after a few steps. There was a confident smile on his face when he saw his partner take off. Shortly thereafter, he spurred his horse and quickly rode out of the city.

On the main road, he stared at the pitch-black column of smoke over the still far away property of Ironwing. His orange-red dragoness hovered above him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..


On the edge of the Widow-Forest, a large bald man stood under a tree and paced impatiently. “Why did it take so long?” He asked sharply, looking skeptically at a pyramid with a large crystal ball on the top. “Do you have any idea how much time it takes to grow a pure crystal of this size?!” Minerva complained loudly.

With a clear audible clearing of the throat, he got away from her and turned his red eyes to the street. “I'm so tired of this ‘just waiting’ all the time!” He muttered to himself in annoyance. Shortly thereafter, he winced, breathing in frantically. A faint purple spark flashed in his pupils. A somewhat smaller man stood next to him. He wore a dark brown leather armor and a black cloth over his mouth. With the hood of his cloak pulled over his forehead, the stranger stood by the tree and watched the street through binoculars. A double-barreled crossbow hung from the leather strap over his shoulder and he wore a gold pendant around his neck. There was a triangle on top with three circles on it. An open eye was visible in the middle.

“With this behavior you will certainly not speed things up.” The latter said softly, turning a wheel on his binoculars. With an angry growl, the bald man approached the man. “There he is!” The stranger announced unexpectedly. On the street he recognized a rider who was approaching the property at a rapid pace. An orange-red dragon flew directly above him. Lowered his binoculars, he scowled at the tall one. “Our catchword, Larzarus.” He added confidently as he pulled out his crossbow.

Larzarus began to smile in agreement and threw a demanding look at Minerva. This stared at him slightly nervously. “Get ready.” He ordered to her, pointing at her with a definite finger. “Come on, men. Let's get things rolling.” The stranger said to his people. Wordlessly, more masked figures emerged from the forest. With horses they pulled out two heavy ballists. There was a folded catching net in each shot.

Watching the rider on the street, the well-armed group moved towards the property.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..


Roland came into the driveway of the property. He stopped in front of the open gate and dismounted from his horse. The orange-red dragoness elegantly landed next to him. He looked worriedly at the guards lying on the street. Behind the wall, a dark column of smoke rose into the sky. Looking at the thick smoke, Roland drew his sword, but still had to inhale nervously. Kyndle gave a low growl and took a quick look through the deformed halves of the gate. The acrid smell of fresh corpses was in the air.

A loud, painful scream echoed through the air. Roland and his dragoness winced in shock as the echo stopped. “Oh no!” He said aloud and hurried to the main house. Standing in front of the damaged tower, he looked at the large dent in the masonry and the guards' bodies lying on the floor. Many foreign bodies and armor pieces were also scattered around, but their colors were not part of the Ironwing Guard. Smoke rose from the burning roof and formed this black pillar that rose far into the sky. He panicked to the main entrance, where the echo had come from. At the door he found another person lying on the floor. He lay face down on the bloody steps, his arm outstretched to the door. A black lance rose steeply from his back. The gate had broken through and he heard soft noises from the room beyond.

And again this plaintive echo called through the air. With his sword ready to fight, he took a step towards the destroyed door. A soft “Meep” sounded in his back. Then he threw a worried look back at his dragoness. A brief sparkle moved between their eyes. Kyndle closed her eyelids and cooed quietly before showing her slit pupils and looking at the torn door with a demand.

Together they quietly entered the room and saw the bodies of other guardsmen and many dark figures. Some black armors stood in a circle and immediately cast their glowing yellow eyes on Roland and his dragoness. Alarmed, they took up their weapons and assumed a position ready to fight. A large creature stood in front of him and slowly turned. The figure watched from his big helmet at him down with a dull growl. With his mighty two-handed axe placed over his shoulder, he slowly stepped to the side and behind him emerged a hovering person.

The figure wore a blood-red robe with a silver mask on its face and was holding a golden staff in his hands. Panting weakly, the hovering person turned and a greedy, violet glow sparkled from the black eye holes of the striking face, when he saw Roland. A head-sized gemstone hovered next to him. The black stone was embedded in a silver frame, which was shaped like a self-engulfing snake. The outlines of a lifeless heart shimmered in the dark color.

Bone remains lay beneath the hovering person. The hollow eyes of the skull stared lifelessly at the ceiling. A serpentine dagger was in the bone of the forehead. The fleshless hand stretched upward, the body lay on the carpet, surrounded by blood-red symbols and strange words. The chest was broken inside out.

With wide eyes Roland recognized the stripes on the uniform. It was Koris. With an angry look he stared at the dark person and tightened his grip on the sword. Kyndle did the same and sent a threatening growl into the room. Ready to fight, she lowered her chest and waved her wings. The stranger gave a cold laugh and stretched out his arm to the black gem. “The guest of honor has arrived.” He gasped softly. He snatched up the big stone when a thick cloud of smoke enveloped him. “No scratch, Broderick.” His words echoed across the room before he was gone with the opaque smoke.

As soon as the smoke was gone, Broderick came up to him and raised his heavy axe ready to fight. The dark figures in the room formed a semicircle around Roland and Kyndle. Both cautiously took a step backwards and stared hard into the yellow eyes of the attackers.

Broderick struck out with his weapon. He raised the dark edge far down. But before he could carry out his attack completely, the echo of a strong bowstring called through the room. The arrow hit him in the shoulder. The force of the projectile made him tip over sideways and his weapon fell noisily to the ground. Roland looked up in surprise. Torben stood above the stairs with his dragon bone bow and shot another arrow at the general. The latter wanted to straighten up again with a hiss and was pulled down again from the second shot.

Torben swung elegantly over the railing and rolled off after landing. As he straightened up, he drew his sword and pierced the plate armor of a shadow armor from behind. The trapped ghost gasped from the metal and the armor fell apart. He came quickly to Roland. A wall of flame rose behind him and without saying a word, he grabbed Roland by the shoulder and pulled him out of the door. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he heaved him away from him. Meanwhile, Kyndle followed and stood behind her partner. “What on Wyverex’ shadow are you doing here?!” Torben threw plaintively at his feet. Roland looked at him seriously. “You can't expect me to just watch my home burn down!” He replied demanding.

A deafening hiss came from the burning house and shortly afterwards Aaros came out of the flames. Breathing heavily, he stood next to the three and supported himself exhausted on his staff. “You two shouldn't have come here.” He said out of breath and looked at his student with his cloudy eyes. Roland looked at him slightly angrily. “And let you two sit in that shit?” He started when Kyndle lowered her head to the door with a low growl. Everyone threw their attention to the burning entrance.

A long creak ran through the walls and with a deafening bang a large hole was blown into the wall. Aaros shook his staff shakily into the ground and created a barrier that protected the small group from the smashing debris. The wall pieces hit the shield dully. A dense cloud of dust hovered in front of the gap and Aaros sank to the ground, breathing heavily, as the energy field evaporated. He dropped his staff tired. “That was too much.” He gasped softly. “Shit!” Torben said out loud. “It was just a matter of time anyway.” “What's wrong?” Roland asked worriedly when he saw his teacher on the floor. “Closing those damn portals drained him completely. He can't fight like this. We have to…” Heavy steps interrupted his hectic words. A large shadow appeared behind the falling dust veil.

With a loud hiss, the dark general took a big step forward and heaved his mighty battle axe into the ground. A strong shock was felt and purple runes began to glow on the black weapon. A brief, white sparkle lit up in Broderick's eye sockets as a faint shock wave swept into the earth.

Cursed skeletons dug themselves out of the ground around the small group. Roland raised his sword ready to fight and threw his serious gaze at the lifeless opponents. With a threatening growl, Kyndle showed her sharp fangs and aggressively put her wings on. The pupils contracted to slits, she stood next to Roland, her eyes also attentively on the enemies. Torben grabbed his weapon and joined the two of them, forming a small defense ring around the exhausted magician.

No sooner had a skeleton freed itself from the earth, it rushed towards Aaros. The bony shape leapt toward the magician like a hungry predator. A targeted sword strike suddenly brought it to the ground. Thrusting the tip of the blade through the top of the skull, the dim, yellow lights in the eye sockets disappeared and the bones crumbled to ashes. Two more quickly approached from behind. With an elegant twist, Kyndle swung her tail and caught them with the sharp bone tip. Finally she crushed their skulls with her paws. Growling, she looked up again. More holes opened up. An endless crowd seemed to be digging through.

Roland looked at the opponents who were in a semicircle in front of him. He briefly closed his left hand and took a deep breath. The symbol on the back of his right hand briefly shimmered light blue and the inside of his medium began to burn. He ran his fingers up the blade of his sword as the blazing flame spread to his weapon. He held the sword handle with both hands and swung the blade horizontally. The scorching heat spread like a fan in front of him and hit the skeletons. After the flames subsided, the remaining legs sagged.

An arrow suddenly snapped past Roland's head. He turned around frantically and saw only a skeleton that collapsed like a house of cards. The skull lay a large distance away, with an arrow in the eye socket. “Always pay attention to the backing.” Torben started softly, followed by a confident nod.

Broderick hissed again and another shock wave hit over his weapon in the ground. Again cracks opened up, from which lifeless warriors crawled. This time they attacked more aggressively.

Roland and Kyndle stood back to back, surrounded by bones. Together they let one enemy after the other crumble to ashes. He swung his blade forward, and as he pulled it back, he ducked slightly as Kyndle's paw shot over him. Her powerful blow threw the bones apart. This was followed by another strike from Roland against the next enemy, after whose swing Kyndle's scorching breath of fire pushed through the undead ranks.

Their movements complemented each other harmoniously: one fluent action followed the next. They fought as a unit. Roland split the head of another opponent, while Kyndle smashed the legs of the last one with a targeted hit of the tip of her tail. With a powerful pounding of her paw, she pulverized the skull and the skeleton crumbled to ashes. At last their eyes met in a fleeting moment.

Broderick growled and pulled his axe out of the earth. He leaned heavily on it and sank to his knees exhausted. “The rules for magic apply to everyone.” Roland thought with a faint smile.

He gave his dragoness a serious look. “Now we show it to this scumbag.” He announced quietly. Kyndle nodded to him in confirmation and together they launched their attack. Roland ran toward the general with his sword lowered from the left. Kyndle took a few steps and jumped up. In light gliding she approached the opponent from the right side.

Looking at his target, he heard a soft whir above him. Then he felt a throbbing pulse in his ribs. He had difficult with his breathing and the painful hiss of Kyndle could be heard. He convulsively stopped his attack and held his hand to his side in shock. He glanced at Kyndle in panic. She lay on the floor and moved laboriously. He quickly stood by her and saw the sling that had wrapped around her chest and wings.

The impact had broken some of her ribs, which also made her breathing difficult. She lay on the floor, snorting heavily. “We'll have it right away.” Roland said confidently, trying to untie her. Meanwhile, Kyndle snarled up and looked at the property's gate.

A ballista was aimed at the dragoness and fired again. Rotating, the sling hissed through the air. “Down!” Torben shouted, but he was standing too far away from him. Kyndle saw the projectile approaching and pushed Roland out of the line of fire in Torbens direction just in time. The female hissed and was thrown back to the ground again. The shackle wrapped around her tail and hind legs. Roland glanced at Kyndle in panic. “No!” He roared. Both hands clenched into fists, he felt his anger increase. The sign on his hand back began to glow slightly. With an angry look, he turned to the gate. Torben also sat up and looked at the entrance. A larger group stood on the property. They had two hunter ballists with them, which they protected with high tower shields.

Kyndle struggled to stand on her front legs and tried to get up. The masked man in the middle nodded in silence to his colleague and shortly afterwards another bond flew towards the dragoness. The projectile wrapped around her front legs and threw her clumsily to the ground. Her head hit hard and she passed out. Roland felt the pain impulse and his sight clouded slightly. At least he lost all his control. His medium, like the back of his right hand, began to burn. There was a light blue glow in his eyes as he snatched the dragon bone bow from Torben's hand. Without an arrow, he cocked the string. When he pulled on the tendon, a shining, pulsating projectile brightly formed. “Leave her alone!” He shouted in a distorted voice and let go of the tendon.

The magic bullet flew through the air like lightning. It pierced the tower shield, shredded the man behind it and landed on the first ballista, which was destroyed in a violent explosion shortly thereafter. A thick cloud of dust now enveloped the forecourt and where the ballista stood, there was now a smoking hole. The nearby men were hurled away with panicked screams. The violent shock wave knocked the rest of them to the ground. Torben held his hand protectively in front of his face and coughed heavily. He could barely see the hand in front of his eyes.

The glow from Roland's eyes penetrated the thick veil of dust. He dropped the bow and drew his sword. The blade began to glow with a slight red light. Each time he swung it, a faint impulse showed up. Greedy for his next target, he moved at a rapid pace. Severed arms and legs fell to the floor and groaned men sank to their knees. One after the other fell victim to the rage of his blade. Aaros watched a little apart, exhausted the spectacle in this dust cloud.

Meanwhile, a bald man had placed a heavy object next to the tied dragoness. It was in the shape of a pyramid with a crystal ball on top. There was a black pearl in the liquid inside. A woman dressed in black stood beside it and removed the cap from a small urn. She pulled out her closed hand and tossed the dusty contents onto the dragoness. With both arms outstretched, she took a deep breath.

The thick veil had meanwhile subsided and there was not much left of the once large group. The remaining men looked completely overwhelmed at Roland, who stood between the bodies with a glowing look. Blood dripped from his blade and he stared at the rest of the enemies. One of the men fired a bolt at Roland. He stopped the projectile in the air with his bare hand. He held his fist shakily around it when it suddenly caught fire. His eyes shone with rage. With his sword raised, he immediately started walking towards the attacker.

“IN VAS DOR CARP, CORSLAK VUR SAHL, DORM VUR GORSH!” The woman's powerful voice echoed through the air. A faint crackle made itself felt in the strange object and jet black clouds began to pile up over the property. Roland winced slightly and looked at the woman, who was standing next to Kyndle. He let go of his target and approached her vigorously. A bald man stood in his way. Roland looked furious in Larzaru's face and immediately swung his blade towards him. There was a loud clink as they crossed their swords. Larzarus pressed violently against Roland's attack, but his strength was insufficient. A purple sheen shone in his eyes and a shadowy shape came out of his body. It lay over him like a veil, and with this help he could withstand Roland's anger. “Get it done, Minerva!” He screamed.

The glow in Roland's eyes grew brighter. Strong lightning tongues flashed from Rolands blade over the body of Larzarus and with a distorted screech the dark veil vanished. With his loud roar, Roland created a strong shock wave, which struck the bald man to the side.

“NOS TROS MUR LAK, DOT KAST!” The woman said and a dark rumble of thunder moved through the clouds. A lightning struck in the sphere of the pyramid and it began to glow. The black pearl fizzled out and a rotating vortex formed with a black void in the center. The shimmer in Roland's eyes was suddenly gone and he was gasping for breath, feeling a deep emptiness. He looked paralyzed at the woman, who was glowering at him with a smile. His weapon fell to the floor. Slowly he dropped to his knees and threw his desperate look at Kyndle, his hand trembling and reaching for her. He couldn't feel her soul anymore.

Larzarus straightened up, breathing heavily, and looked controlling at the dragoness and the object in front of her. He was definitely pointing to Broderick, who had gradually recovered from his exhaustion. “Come on, get them away!” He ordered loudly, his arm raised. With a low growl, the general moved to Minerva and the unconscious Kyndle.

Completely exhausted, Roland knelt there, his hand still stretched out for his dragoness. Broderick sat up in front of her and raised his axe in the air. Purple runes began to glow on the black steel and a dark cloud of smoke circled them. The opaque veil rose rotating, enveloped them completely and then a bright flash shot out. The cloud cleared and the three and this pyramid were gone.

“NO!” Roland complained loudly when his imprint partner was gone. Larzarus stood in front of him with his legs apart. “And now, you.” He threatened vigorously, grabbing Roland's shoulder. “You don’t do that!” Torben called into his back, his sword ready to fight. “Traitor!” Larzarus scolded loudly as he turned.

He waved the remaining men over to him and scowled at his former colleague. “What do you want to do now, all by yourself?” He asked with a nasty smile. Loud blows interrupted his weak laugh. Larzarus turned in surprise and saw a red-haired woman. The rest of the Brotherhood men lay in front of her. She was dressed in leather armor and held a massive battle hammer in her hands.

“Patricia?” It came from Larzarus in surprise. “Long time no see, little brother.” She replied with an angry undertone. “Don't call me that!” He protested. “After everything you've pulled off your asshole, I should call you something completely different!” She scolded loudly and raised her hammer in his direction. “What are you doing here?” Larzarus asked firmly. With a serious look, she stared at her brother. “Settle my debt and prevent you from making a huge mistake, again!” He mocked his arms, grinned at his sister and waved her provocatively to him. “Try it!”

No sooner had his words been said than Patricia attacked him. She dropped her hammer down and picked up momentum. Her weapon struck the ground vigorously, causing the earth to shake slightly. Larzarus took a skillful step to the side and escaped the fatal blow. With his fist outstretched, he landed a hit on her face. A little dazed she straightened her gaze again and at that moment Larzarus swung his blade towards her. A loud clink echoed through the air as Torben parried the attack.
Larzarus made a small jump back and put some distance between him and his opponents. The three looked at each other ready to fight. Torben put his head very slightly to the side. “Attack from the left.” He whispered to Patricia, who nodded silently. Torben took the first step. He stabbed forward with his sword, which Larzarus knocked aside. He took advantage of this momentum with a skillful turn and swung his weapon at his opponent again. With a raised blade, Larzarus stopped Torben's attack and vigorously balanced him back. At that moment, Patricia's battle hammer shot down. He could duck just in time to avoid being hit. The sweeping blow went nowhere and Larzarus took advantage of this moment. He grabbed his sister by the neck and lifted her up, but he immediately felt Torben's blade. His former buddy drove his sword into his stomach. He let out a tense breath and spat some blood, but didn't let go of his grip on Patricia.

The red in his eyes grew brighter and his breathing increased. Patricia felt his grip growing stronger and tried to free herself. Larzarus hit Torben in the face with his free hand and he fell back heavily. Blood dripped from his broken nose and he tried to straighten his eyes again. Larzarus stood there, trembling slightly. The sword in his stomach only increased his anger. A wild growl came from his throat as he grew bigger.

Patricia grabbed his arm with both hands and pushed it down with all her might. She brought herself to eye level with him and stared into his red eyes. She also started to growl and looked angrily at Larzarus. Her body also grew noticeably bigger. “You are not the only berserk here.” She gasped, breathing heavily and roaring, she was able to free herself from his strong grip. Standing on her feet again, she held both hands together and heaved them down up. She hit Larzarus’ jaw and threw him far back. With wide shoulders and raised arms, she stood there breathing heavily. Her eyes glowed red as she stared at her brother furiously. Growling, he straightened up again. Roaring, he pulled the blade from his stomach and stormed towards Patricia. He swung it down on her with a wide bow. Patricia grabbed the blade with her bare hands and broke the steel apart. She took a swing and drove the bloody blade tip into Larzarus' shoulder. He grimaced in pain and grabbed her by the upper arms. He reached out with his forehead and slapped her head violently. Her eyes circled slightly dazed and he dropped her to the ground.

Torben meanwhile grabbed Roland by the collar and dragged him over to Aaros. “Get him out of here! NOW!” He ordered and turned back to Larzarus.

Aaros put his arm around Roland and pulled a small object out of his pocket. It was a white chess piece. The magician squeezed the small tower until the first cracks formed and then threw it on the ground in front of him. The splinters dissolved in a dark cloud of smoke, which began to rotate around him and Roland. Torben turned to them one last time. He threw the bone bow at Aaros and nodded confidently. The smoke curtain rose and rotated faster. A bright flash of light jumped out and disappeared on the horizon.

The sound of two fighting berserkers echoed loudly over the burning roof of Ironwing.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..


Mardon stood pensively behind the battlements of Drakensangs walls and cast his skeptical gaze at the black column of smoke on the horizon. A loud thunder stroke through the air and divided the floating cloud surface in the sky. A bright flash of light moved through the crack and flew towards the fortress. A black cloud of smoke formed on the square, rotating around its own axis. The shimmering beam of light penetrated the opaque wall and let it disappear instantly.

Mardon looked tensely at Aaros and Roland, who were now lying unconscious on the floor.

“By the Five!” He said aloud as he quickly approached the two.