reborn in flame

Erastus 9, 4699 - Deep in the Chitterwood, miles from Breachill

Captain Vosh cracked his whip, eliciting a sharp yelp from the surging green creatures that scurried underfoot. "Front lines, you maggots!" he snarled. "How this damned town managed to last so long is beyond me." He watched as the goblin chattel bumbled their way through the forest, their makeshift banners an insult to true military legions. The average goblin tribe was barely ten men strong, less than an efficient fighting force, but gather all the tribes together and he finally had something to work with. He watched as a goblin's steel helmet fell over his eyes, tripped on an upturned root, and fell into a series of brambles. The hobgoblin captain sighed in frustration and rubbed at his temples.

His superiors had been complaining about this settlement for a few weeks now. By all accounts, it was nothing more than a farming town for the humans. However, there was an abandoned fortress that would be an excellent staging ground for the continuing war. It could at least house plenty of their captives while they decided what to do with them. Yet for some reason, no forces had yet taken the damned thing.

Suddenly, the column of goblin soldiers stopped and began tumbling in on themselves in disarray. Once more, as was becoming common with these soldiers, Captain Vosh sighed. He cracked his whip and spurned his wolf mount forward. Beneath him, the occasional goblin didn't scurry out of the way fast enough and was crushed beneath the beast's massive bulk. Captain Vosh didn't spare a second thought.

Through the treeline, though, the hobgoblin spied the cause of the fleeing goblins. A massive golden scaled dragon stood with its wings outstretched directly in the way of his marching army. Already a number of greasy, black smears marred the forest floor where, presumably, his forward scouts once stood. Another sigh. Vosh steeled his resolve and pushed his wolf forward.

"Mighty dragon!" the hobgoblin called out, his arms spread wide. "My men and I only seek passage through your lands to the human homes beyond. We mean no harm." Vosh made sure to keep his tone reverential. The stories said that the great beasts greatly appreciated that. Yet despite his outward calm, the hobgoblin's heart raced. A dragon, a beast of legend!

The gold dragon turned its gaze upon Vosh and he felt fear his blood turn to ice. Eyes like shining diamonds held his with dark ferocity. "Passage to the human lands?" the dragon scoffed. "And why would I allow you that?"

Captain Vosh looked around at the quivering goblin troops that surrounded him. He would have to choose his words carefully. "Your lands, my lord, are infested with squabbling vermin. We are here to rid you of the annoyance." Around him, the goblins gave a cheer, though most of them more than likely didn't understand much of what he said.

The dragon threw back its massive head and let out a bone-chilling laugh. "You are correct about one thing, hobgoblin. There is a horde of squabbling vermin here within my lord's land. However, it will be I who does the extermination." With a swift intake of breath, the dragon let loose a massive gout of flame that rolled over Vosh and his troops.

The dragon watched the goblin "army" flee back into the Chitterwood. Their commander was now nothing more than a smoldering heap of bone riding atop a charred midday snack. He rolled his shoulders, working out the muscles and stretching his wings, preparing to take to the skies once more. Then he felt the barest pain down on his legs. He glance down to see a small goblin, diminutive even for their kind, biting and swinging at his knee.

"Excuse me," he grumbled, more annoyed then angry, "but you are on my leg." The goblin turned took look up at him, its face missing most of the skin from where his flames had singed it. A cruel, blood-filled smile was plastered on the small creature's face before it went back to biting.

The dragon shook it's leg, trying to dislodge the pest, but it held tight. Finally, a quick slash from his claws sent the goblin tumbling to the ash-coated forest floor below. The goblin lay still for hardly a moment before leaping up and letting loose an awful screech from its scarred face. The creature, a woman, the dragon now noticed, charged across the field, the ashes of her kinfolk swirling around her with every step and leapt through the air only to be swatted away like nothing more than an insect.

The dragon brought his looming golden face close to the goblin's twisted form. She was bent double over, her charred fingers wrapped around one of his scales. "Let that be a fitting reward in trade for your life, insect," he huffed, turning away. Her back was broken and her breathing had already stopped. "This town is under the protection of my lord, the archmage Lamond Breachton. Your kind shall not lay finger upon it." He pulled his weight against his wings and took off into the sky after a mighty jump and was so gone.

Fim was dead.

Broken spine. Pierced lung. Blood loss. Her teeth were chipped from the dragon's stone-like scales. Her knuckles were nothing but powder after hammering away at its leg. She felt the last vestiges of life leave her in a final, rattling breath.

Yet nothing waited for her in the darkness. Only creeping cold. And it, too, slowly left her. The dark and cold turned into a warm light that filled her. Her wounds did not disappear, but she came back from the brink of death, if only for a moment. Fim's eyes blinked open. Night had fallen and all was black, save for the glowing golden scale in her arms.

She should have been thankful, but she could only scowl. The audacity of the dragon to spare her! The audacity of the longshanks to be so weak as to need a protector like that! She got to her feet, finding that she stood several heads taller now. She didn't question it, she just spit out the blood that filled her lungs and walked back into the forests. She had plans to make.