A Dragon's Flames Can't Be Quenched

The Sorceror fought through the swarms of trolls and goblins under the peak of Mazhabrar and followed the light of the lava. His golden sword flashed through chainmail and flesh and his wand blazed with orange fire. Above him was the city of Markleshtareh, the capital city of the goblins and throne of the Orc-lord. Below was the fiery pits of Mt. Mazhabrar, where the ancient forges had made the Seven Shadow Swords and where ignis was made into deadly weapons. The Sorceror stood at the edge of the broken bridge as the goblins closed in, and he knew the only way out was down. He threw his sword at an Orc commander and it impaled him, then he leaped into the fire below.
It screamed into the silent darkness and struggled against magical chains. Minutes dragged into hours and hours turned into endless nights of dark, invisible millennia. A thousand years could be a single second in this timeless dungeon. It weeped for the light of day and the feel of wind under it's wings. Fire roared through the blackness and smashed against the roof in vain. Rock splintered, but it didn't give way. Magic held those walls in place as always, and it roared with anger. But it was patient, and soon it would be free of this ancient prison, and then the goblins would pay. A dragon does not forget easily.
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The Sorceror fell through the waterfalls of lava. A good thing, too - his charm of fireproofness was wearing off. He leaped into the dark valleys under the mountain and his sword cleaved through dozens of goblins. With a flash from his wand, lava fell upon the forge just as he leaped to the bridge opposite. The pursuing orcs and goblins fell into the ravines of fire beneath. The Sorceror nodded curtly and ran forwards to the greatest of the forges, one that was here already when the goblins came - orZhez KhabBLhan, where the Shadow Swords and the Dark Crown itself were forged and once belonging to the Dark One himself. The Sorceror pressed his wand against the door and it opened. He prepared to release his weapon.
The dragon heard the sound of magic above, and it grinned in the dark, for it knew that soon it would be free. It roared with anger and shot fire from it's throat, and the Sorceror ran to the source of the noise and raised his wand in preparation for the spell that would free the last king of the dragons, Alabastar.
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The magic chains and bars shattered just as a pair of spears ended the mightiest sorceror in the land. They came out of his chest, and he realized that mortally wounded he couldn't finish the spell. His aura flared to life and he glowed with energy. He put his entire life force into this spell until his very soul had been spent. A vacant shell stood there still pouring auric energy into the spell, as well as the life force of the two goblins behind him who had gotten too close and were having their souls sucked out and their auras spent. It was more than enough to shatter the spells trapping Alabaster and to replenish his weakened aura. Empowered with energy, he rose up, and what remained of the sorceror in his dead body was pleased. The dragons would be more than enough to destroy the goblins, and with a leader at last they could unite again and drive the hordes back to the deep caves from whence they came. And then his body was incinerated to provide that last spark of power, just enough to destroy orZhez KhabBLan and release the dragon from the magma chambers. The pure, naked hatred of a dragon at full strength full of vengeance with nothing to lose is a sight to behold. At a distance.
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Alabaster shattered stone with an explosive blast of fire and boulders fell into the lava, causing movement within the magma ocean that filled the world. A ripple turned into a wave and a wave spread forth and back on itself. But Alabaster was enraged and didn't observe those ripples. His mind was occupied by thoughts of vengeance. The Kharns shot arrows and crossbow bolts at him. They wounded him, but he took no notice. He incinerated them to the point where even the ashes were turned to smoke. The other Orcs and Goblins fled. The Dragon King laughed. He followed them to the city under Mazhabrar, Markleshtareh. The throne of the Orc-lord and the Kharn's Council, both of which were positions filled entirely by Goblins. No Orc had ever ruled. Which was lucky for the Orcs. Alabaster wanted revenge on the Kharn-Lord and nothing would stand in his way. 
The wood wasn't burning - it literally melted. All of Markleshtareh was melting and burning, crumbling and turning to ashes. The survivors were fleeing, for Goblins are cowardly creatures. Only the Kharns, loyal to the end, a handful of the braver and dumber Trolls and a few of the braver Orc warriors remained. Most of the Council was dead or fleeing and the Orc-lord hid in the remains of his throne. The attacking allied races, Dwarves and Elves and Humans, were long forgotten. They knew Alabaster was coming and they were pursuing the Goblins instead of capturing a city that was about to be destroyed. But there were those among those allies that knew if Alabaster died, then the dragons would have no leader and they would never win the war. They would die under his wrath, but they stayed to defend him from the archers that remained in Markleshtareh to destroy him. And so the city was almost completely controlled by these allies, but there were still archers at the far end of the city. It was a Dwarf that lead the charge upon the archery towers named Edlehjert, a mockery of the stereotype that Dwarves are cowards who hide underground when there is war above. Edlehjert was also the first to see Alabaster approaching and the archers taking aim, and he ran to the towers crying "Woe be to the archers that would shoot down the king of the dragons! Noble warriors, you will forever be remembered as the Fallen of Mazhabrar! Join me to be remembered as the Guardians of the Dragon King! May the foul Orcs and Kharns that still fight for Markleshtareh know that there will be those who will fight them to the last breath!" And so it was that of the five hundred who stayed in Markleshtareh, four hundred rode on to defend the dragon that was about to end them.
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Part 5 will eventually be added.
TheReturnOfTheKing (talk) 01:53, December 19, 2012 (UTC)
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