#dreaming

Skallstryke is old and evil, warped and horrid....and immense. For a moment, Brekke feels like a childling watching her world vanish and...

No. That was a long time ago.

Brekke brings Speaker to a halt, staring at the oncoming foe. That brief moment of timeless horror...but this is now, and she is not going to have it happen again. A deep anger is rekindled in her as she faces this enemy once again. She’s almost ready to take it on from where she stands, but...no, she remounts Stormwake and reclaims the Lance from Emmit. She looks to the others to see if they are ready.

"Three? Here? Bah, then I have but to kill one and all pass... " Burning venom bursts from the great wyrm's mouth and...hits the wards! The wards shatter, but the breath is stopped, this time.

"Guess ready or not," Emmit says, drawing the bow string

Skallstryke's voice can be heard a mile away it seems, his breath? launched a quarter mile away... but now he approaches , still on gnarled wings.

Brekke braces the Lance in her off hand for a moment, taking Speaker in her right again. “Old friend...you have a job to do. May you find your way back to continue the fight.” And as soon as the dragon is in close enough range, she spins the dragon-slaying battle axe once more and releases it, sending it to dance through the air to its target.

Speaker whips and whirls through the air towards Skallstryke, aiming for the eye, only to have a great wing swat it , "It is not so easy, Giants! I am your bane and..." The swat causes it pain, for even as it redirects Speaker, the axe carves cracks a scale on that wing.

Speaker announces, "Be damned, dragon. We will best you!"

Arthek says "Mountain, I Hope you're a good shot..."

"With a little luck, I might be" And the black arrow is launched, sinking into the spot that speaker just rendered defenseless!... already bleeding profusely, the wing spasms , now useless. and Skallstrike lands on the ground

“And there it is.” Brekke switches the Lance and spurs Stormwake forward, bellowing defiance at the vile creature as they charge.

Skallstryke grins, "YOu know, one lodge is normally enough, but as three of you are here each bearing the smell of a different one, perhaps I will destroy THREE... feast as I haven't feasted in over a thousand years..." He breaths again and Brekke...burns... and her horse...

does not! The glass barding under is the brillant work of nockers with prep time! Flame retardant, and more than that... the liquids spritz over the horse AND rider... making what would be deadly burns merely injurious... and more, for the glass takes in the light of the breath and shines ten times brighter back in the dragon's; eyes

And Skallstryke is blind, just in time for the lance to go through it's torso, missing the heart by just that much

The Dragonlance sets loose a spray of blood and each drop carries the image of the wilders who were on the quest! Cheering Brekke on! Their contribution manifesting their support

Pain and rage and defiance all mix in Brekke’s roar as the Lance sinks home.

And a satisfied “HA!” as the images flow before her. She holds the Lance and forces it deeper if possible.

She twists the lance, so to speak, only to have her lancing arm go numb as the dragon, trying to bit her head, gets her shoulder. It shakes her three times, causing her to lose her grip on the lance, and then, in an attempt to chew her.. she slips free and falls...only to get caught by the hearth's ledgedemain...

"Let me Gram and I have a turn," Arthek says

A grateful nod to Emmit as she lands safely. The Lance is wedged deep in the dragon’s flesh, and she looks to see if she can spot Speaker and summon him back to her hand while Arthek takes a shot.

Speaker was knocked down, but fortunately, back towards her direction. Good.

Emmit makes a gesture and hurls it at the dragon.

Skallstryke is NOT amused, "You seek to bend MY will? Next to a dragon's will, a troll's mind is brittle as bone"

"Gram says hello" The Hearth says, "While you boast of your will" Arthek uses the blade visciously, and it digs in... where lesser blades would not work at all.

Brekke retrieves Speaker from where he lies. “Good first strike. More to be done.”

The dragon's tail suddenly curls about Arthek, keeping him from using his sword, "A fine blade, Gram. It did slay kin of mine. But it will make a fine...trophy" Bones begin to break as the tail constricts

'Your Ally may die, Little One... unseelie or not, we should prevent that' Speaker advises

There is no need for Speaker to urge her to aid Arthek. As soon as she sees what is happening, she charges in to deal another blow, this time coupling it with a Holly Strike strengthened by an Edda verse describing the power of lightning to sunder the greatest foe.

And she does, sundering a section of the flank, and causes the tail to release Arthek. Scales fly... a grevious wound!

And then she sees in the wound the faces of trolls, screaming, trapped, souls unable to go on...and one merely dissolves.... as , as if heatherbalmed, the wound starts to seal. "You cost me one of my prisoners. I'm not pleased."

Prisoners! He does not merely destroy them...they empower him! She hesitates only a moment, then launches a fury of strikes against the wound, keeping it open, butchering her kithmates that they might move on, screaming into the horror of each stroke.

Skallystrike howls in pain as she frees more... but she is focused on freeing, not winning and...Skallstrike has already wounded her so much... "Enough..." the Dragon's jaws go around her torso, piercing plate and flesh and muscle. Then he howls as she becomes pure flame.....it doesn't burn Skall Stryke, not much anyway, but a body made of a livign star cannot be gripped in fangs

Arthek gasps "Told you iwas good at Pyretics"

Emmit takes a lace off his arm and is muttering as he unwinds it, "Names names names..."

A groan of pain, but then more startlement as she immolates. It’s an astounding sensation...so astounding she almost forgets where she is, almost forgets to reach up an cast another Holly Strike against the roof of the dragon’s mouth.

Except she doesn’t forget, and she focuses on shattering his upper palate like glass.

"Hundreds... he has hundreds..." A voice of one of the released as she does not shatter, but she does SHRED that palate.

"Pokey slow thing aren't you work? I think I'll call you slowpoke" Emmit says, nick naming a dragon!