Part MMMDCCCXXIV: Dragon's Heist
Dragon's Heist
Eleventh Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC
"No need to kill the constructs, just keep them out of our way..." you call out before the light of your spell had even fully faded. Darts of frost fly from your fingers, clogging up gears and mechanisms with yet more ice. Walls of light flicker into being around the constructs at your command and that of your familiar before they can move more than a score of feet off their stone seats. More of them flash at the exits. They will not hold long, but they don't have to.
"Kill the giants." Were this another place, another time, you might have offered quarter, but this is not some isolated ship in the far corners of the Sea of Flame where you can hope to clear the deck of foes.
The clock is ticking and you cannot even see its face.
Your cloak whips about with the sound of clinking coin, the hiss of arcane hunger. Behind you the blinded giants are shouting... screaming anger turned to fear turned quickly to flight and blundering into the steel shelves leaving you thankful to whatever azer smith had forged them too solid to be knocked over.
It takes perhaps a dozen seconds before the screaming stops, the last of the giants unconscious or dead on the basalt floor, you do not care which as long as they cannot get in the way.
"Toss them at me!" you call.
Fortunately both of your companions know the tongue of fire and the speed that had served them so well in battle now sees them move so fast they are all but blurring down the rows and isles.
Clunk... clunk... clunk... chests go into your cloak, already ordered in sets for easy transfer. If you are now being thankful for the efficiency of the Sultan's servants you suppose you might as well add whoever ordered this place to the list. Both of them are going about as fast as you can, even risking a spell for the task.
The three of you pass through the chamber like a storm of greedy glittering gold and for your part you actually do manage to push some of the shelves over in your haste. At last there comes a moment of reprieve when you look around for the next chest and realize there is none left in this row and this is the last one...
"I think that's...." The words are lost as the wall you are standing besides suddenly explodes outwards with enough force to send shards of half melted stone through your scales and scraping against bone. You catch the barest glimpse of flame crimson, orange and white hot such that you can feel it and then you turn. If you and your companions had been fresh, not battered and wounded, you might have thought to give battle, as is you have what you came from and now is the time to flee.
Viserys takes 43 Damage
(Viserys at 67/355)
As though to nail home the fact with a yard of iron the barriers at the doors burst and half a dozen giants burst in, a sorceress bearing axe and flame at their head, the names of her dead kin on their lips. Behind her the cannoneers take aim, but Varys is ready. She would have been of little use hurling boxes at you and so she had been watching the door, ready to reinforce it. Though it is too late for that now, it is not too late to cast an arc of arcane power in the way of the volley.
"Up!" you call as you spread your wings and lap towards the ceiling. Your friends are quick to understand your meaning, flying to meet you before you meet the Darkward corner of the room.
Though the Ward Keepers reach out to smother your spell they are not quite swift enough. You carve out your own way from the fortress as a hunter carving up game, though you would not want to try this trick without the wind under your wings utterly under your power or with riders less trusting of your skill. "My compliments to the Sultan for his stones!" you shout back at your foes.
There are few things swifter than a dragon on the wing, but the brust of searing flame behind you is giving it a damn good try, that is until you conjure your own corner of the ocean to quench it. By the time you see the flames again they are well behind you and a moment later you burst from your hole into another torchlit corridor.
The feeling of healing salve on your scales is a small balm, but a small balm is better than none.
Viserys heals 13 Damage
(Viserys at 80/355)
You make it to the next level with the enemy not far from your heels and all the fortress in an uproar... especially the soldiers who practically fall into your jaws.
What do you do?
[] Continue blasting your way upwards
[] Try to teleport out using psionics and an invocation of magic
[] Write in
OOC: For anyone wondering how the mage knew to explode the wall in such a way as to hurt Viserys, he has very good hearing and a dragon moving around in a small room is not exactly quiet.
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