Chronicles of Draezoln

Tales of the world of Draezoln

Chapter 4-8

Almonihah grunted as he only mostly dodged the beast’s heavy claws. The impact dazed him a bit, and he was sure he’d be bruised, but he didn’t feel any blood. Of course, if he didn’t get away from it soon that might change…

 

Zakhin’Dakh was paralyzed by indecision. Both of his friends were in trouble! Which one should he help first? Almonihah, or Garkhen?

 

The half-blue dragon finally managed to work one of his arms free, and he frantically tried to focus on the words and gestures of a spell-prayer. Somehow he managed it, and suddenly he swelled up to twice his normal size, giving him the strength and leverage (and surprise) to roll out from under his foe. Now he could finally see the Javni’Tolkhrah that had been trying to kill him. It was vaguely crocodile-like, though with the size of an elephant (or perhaps more) and six taloned legs, arranged in two sets of three. 

 

Seeing this, Zakhin’Dakh charged at the one attacking Almonihah, figuring that Garkhen could handle himself now. He let loose a war shriek as he plowed into the ursine creature’s flank, just before it could strike his friend again. It roared in pain as the griffon’s talons dug into its hide, and turned to try to bite at this new threat.

 

Almonihah saw his opportunity, and in one smooth motion he drew Zithrandrak and tumbled to one side, then jabbed the blade in between the monstrosity’s ribs. Blood spurted out, as if under incredible pressure, coating the Ranger in blood.

 

He grit his teeth as he suddenly felt as if he were afire. Acidic blood. He dropped to the ground and rolled around, desperately trying to rub the blood off before it did any serious harm to him… then he heard a heavy thump and a screech.

 

Zakhin’Dakh!

 

Too late, he tried to shout out a warning, but before he could, he heard a crunch, followed by a wail of pain. Instead of a warning, Almonihah shouted, “Get it off fast!” Then pain drove him to resume his own efforts to do the same.

 

Garkhen was on his feet at last, but without weapon or shield. The Javni’Tolkhrah came at him with maw open wide, and the half-dragon did the first thing that came to mind, reaching out and seizing the beast’s jaws just as it tried to bite him. He blessed the fact that his gauntlets armored even his palms as he found purchase on the monster’s teeth, and somehow held it back. He inhaled, then exhaled a bolt of lightning straight into the creature’s mouth. 

 

It stumbled backwards, twitching… and its scales turned to blue. After a moment, it spat a bolt of lightning back at Garkhen. It didn’t hurt him—more of a pleasant tingle, really—but he didn’t think he’d be able to harm it with his breath again. Instead, he dodged to the side when it lunged forward again, only getting grazed as it went past. Then he turned and slashed at it with his own claws, drawing thin lines of blood from its flanks. 

 

It turned, striking Garkhen with the side of its head. He stumbled backward a step, but then slashed at it again. He wasn’t getting anywhere with his claws… the Warder quickly stepped back as it snapped at him again, then murmured a spell-prayer. A wall of shimmering light sprung up in front of him, giving him time to turn and grab Silverflame. It grew to match his current stature as he took it in his hand, and he turned back to dismiss his warding wall. His foe stumbled forward, surprised by the sudden vanishing of the barrier, giving Garkhen the opportunity to strike.

 

His mace flared with holy flame as it struck the creature’s skull, but the beast shrugged it off. It reared, scratching at him with its many claws, but Garkhen’s armor held. When it came down on its feet again, he was ready. Again Silverflame came down, this time with all his might behind it. With a crunch, the beast shuddered and finally fell still.

 

The Warder turned, to see his allies writhing on the ground. He rushed over, calling upon Bahamut to heal them in a spell-prayer. Their wounds began to mend, but he soon saw that they were still being injured by something on them… blood? 

 

“Acid!” Almonihah gasped out, and Garkhen reacted quickly. He murmured a different spell-prayer to neutralize the acid, touching each of them. Soon they stopped their pained writhing, and were able to take stock of their situation.

 

“That… wasn’t good,” the half-bronze dragon observed. 

 

*************************

 

Almonihah gets the understatement of the month award. =P 

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