<bb> PWW's Battleboard (Santen, Arch[er]angel)

{Returning, but not Home}


Atlani stepped into a familiar landscape. The dirt crunched beneath her feet, she felt the wind on her face, a warm breeze. But something was off. Dark clouds loomed overhead, and lightning flashed from within. It could just be a storm, of course, but given the purpose of her visit, she doubted it. Jutting out from the clouds was a wing. A massive, red, feathered wing. Then another. And two more, as the animal came into full view, sailing out of the clouds. Dark scales, fierce horns, and an unmistakable roar. A dragon. Four more came out of the clouds above her, and Atlani swore she could see another group in the distance.



“Did you know about this?” Atlani whispered aloud.



Of course not. It is an interesting surprise though, I’ve never seen so many at once. said the voice, calm, polite. Infuriatingly so. She stomped off towards the nearest encampment. Or rather, where it was the last time she was here.



“Selem, I can see ten dragons. You do understand why that might be strange? An issue, even?”



Well, I’ve no issue with dragons. They make for good practice, don’t they?



“We hunted them to extinction. There should be no dragon this large, much less ten. And I doubt that what I can see upon arriving is the plane’s entire population of the beasts. I’ll be surprised if anyone managed to survive this assault.”



As Atlani made her way downhill, she could see a group of twenty orcs carrying bows. Some watched the path ahead, though most looked upward.



See? You underestimate your Horde. Might finds a way.



“Hello, warriors,” Atlani whispered, sneaking towards the orcs, so as not to startle whatever prey they may be tracking. “Where did these dragons come from?”



An orc pointed to one of the dragons. “This brood spawned a few years back, we’ve been tracking them for about a week now.” She looked away from the sky to examine Atlani. “You’re a bit short on armor, being this far from camp.”



Atlani looked at the spiked pauldrons and horned helmets worn by the others, compared to her own modest protections. “I am Atlani Swiftblade. I suppose I am ill-equipped to be fighting dragons, though I was just on my way back to camp.”



“Mind the bodies if you’re going that way, we had a run-in with some Blood-Chin.”



“Of course. Thank you.”



Atlani took her leave, going in the opposite direction of the orcs.



Selem, what do they think of me?



Have I truly been reduced to a gossip-monger? Telepathy is a rare talent, you know. You ought to be more appreciative.



…



Fine. Most of them paid you no real mind, they’re too distracted with the flying lizards. A few wonder if you’re a spy for a “Dragonlord Silumgar”.



Dragonlord? And… Silumgar. Someone on the Arena had mentioned that name.



Yes, the poisoner. You were polite enough to not ask her name.



Atlani began to see the bodies the orc had mentioned. Rushing up to them, there were two orcs and four humans. They lay every which way on the ground: some face up, some face down. Dark blood seeped into the ground. Whatever this skirmish was, it had been over for a while. Both groups had suffered sword wounds, though the humans had additional blood on their mouths, and the orcs had strange wounds not shared by the humans. Were they… bite marks?



Seems we found the Blood-Chin.



Five years. I’ve been gone for five years, and the Mardu have been conquered by dragons and reduced to cannibalism. Absolutely unimaginable. Your creator, can… can he fix this?



He could kill three times the number of dragons on this plane with an arm behind his back.



Good. Good.



Looking back to the sky, Atlani saw the lightning strike more frequently, as more of the infernal beasts flew through the clouds.



Let’s go. I can’t stand being here anymore.



She threw the blade across her body, and the way opened, back to the Arena.



Maybe that alliance will beget something useful after all.