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Fall of the Wyrm | by Mark of Siloam
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Fall of the Wyrm

My part of the Rise of the Wyrm collaboration on Merlins-beard.com. Czehc it out if you haven't! ;)

 

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Here begins the epic story:

 

“Mark, you’d better take some other men with ya’ heading north. I’ll send a company with ya’ just in case.” Mark’s father, Eudes said to him.

“That would be wise, thank you. It might prove dangerous traveling that far north for just Lumen and me.” Mark replied.

“And,’ Eudes joked, ‘that will make sure you stop buy on the way back. Ha ha!”

“I will stop back and I am certain that no trouble will befall us.”

 

The group set out early the next morning after a hearty meal and their goodbyes. Another reason Mark’s father sent the other soldiers along was to take supplies to Makhluf. Among these the most noticeable was the ballista, as it was the only extra weapon other than a supply of arrows.

The group marched the day away; talking, laughing, and singing as they went. They did not march fast, but took a slower pace and stopped more than enough time for each of the meals. That night they made camp and set a watch by the fire.

The next morning they woke very early as the sun reflected off of the snow making it appear much brighter than if they had been traveling on bare ground. After breakfast and cleaning their camp they set off north again with little haste; Mark figured they would reach Makhluf’s place in about ten more hours of walking, around sunset.

They walked on in peace for most of the day being very merry and enjoying the breathtaking views that Garheim has to offer when they noticed that some areas of the countryside were less than breathtaking. The talking and laughing slowed and soon ceased entirely. They were now trudging along a path down in a slight ravine. One of the soldiers pointed to some bones, “Musta been the queen’s doing, all this.” After some time another one said, without conviction, “Yeah, musta been them.” He was trying to make light of the situation but they all secretly doubted that those bones had been left by the outlaws. They could have been left, but that didn’t explain why random cliffs which had stood so resolutely against the elements had come crashing down; there was more to it than some ragtag band of outlaws. Mark urged his soldiers on faster through the snow and followed the path they were on up the top of the mountain. At the top they were all exhausted but were enheartened that Makhluf’s place was now within view. They commanded an impressive view of Garheim for miles, their view only being blocked by other mountains taller than the one they were on.

“Let’s stop here and rest a while.” Mark said.

The mood was beginning to lighten with the bright sun overhead and the beautiful view of the mountains.

Mark was sitting talking to Lumen casually. “You been to Makhluf’s before, Lumen?”

“I’ve not been to see him but I have heard stories. He was a great fighter in his time if I remember right- served Garheim well.”

“‘In his time’ isn’t quite the way to put it.” Mark chuckled, “He may be older but he would still be a match for most. And he knows when to avoid a fight, too. A truly great warrior doesn’t seek battle for glory, Lumen, only when it is necessary; you know that.”

“Yes, but it encouraging to hear. Say, what’s that?” He said gesturing to a dark shape gliding along the foot of the mountain on great wings. He stood up nervously at the size of it. “Ever seen one of those, Mark?”

Mark had froze- it was a huge dark dragon that was gliding. It’s black body was scaly and spikey. It’s white eyes rolled upward and spotted Mark and Lumen. The beast adjusted its path slightly with a mighty beat of its wings.

“Break’s over!” Mark yelled to his men, running toward them and reaching for his sword, “Ready the ballista! We’ve got company!”

The ballista was loaded with a massive spear and the few soldiers took battle positions.

“Mark, what is it?”

“It’s a dragon- a Wyrm. Surely you’ve heard the tales.”

“But they were all supposed to have been slain or driven even farther north than this!”

“This one is far from slain and not far enough north for my liking!”

 

The cry of the dragon echoed frightfully in the mountains before he flew into sight. The reflexes of the man behind the ballista were lightning quick, though. As soon as the head of the dragon appeared he released the tension and the spear shot forward, tearing a hole in the wyrm’s wing. Infuriated, the beast dove back down again. It was not gone long but it was enough time for them to load another spear into the ballista. Mark ran toward the edge of the mountain and looked down. It was coming back with a fire building in its throat. As it came over the edge Mark jumped into the air with the intention of hacking its wing apart but was thrown tumbling back into the snow. As it came over the edge again the ballista was fired once more; it hit its mark but glanced off the belly of the dragon and stabbed into the snow. The dragon put out its wings to stop and caused a tornado of wind on the small Garheim army. Most were knocked off their feet. The wyrm had taken a dislike of being used as a target and was determined to roast all who bothered him. The wyrm got low and the fire in his throat went forth towards a small wooden shelter. Those around scrambled to its protection to avoid the dragon fire while the other few ran to beat on its terrible legs with their weapons in desperation.

Mark looked up from where he had fallen face first into the snow. His sword was nowhere to be seen buried in the snow but Mark jumped up and grabbed the spear on the run. Mark was sprinting to the aid of his friends- that wooden shelter wouldn’t last long. The wyrm’s tail thumped on the ground and stayed there. It was scaley but Mark changed his plan and jumped onto the tail. He ran along the tail and it’s back. Down below, the shelter caught fire. One of the soldiers hiding behind it jumped up and put his shield in the way of the fire to buy some time. Back above Mark continued running. Drawing near the dragon’s head he jumped into the air and, with a loud cry, rammed his spear down through it’s head. He was not prepared for the jolt which the dragon gave but he held on for dear life as he was lifted high into the air by the writhing wyrm. It clawed in front of it with a horrible roar then spread its wings, was silent, and began to fall- backwards. Mark would certainly be crushed it he held on so he released his iron grip on the spear shaft and pushed off sideways with his legs.

Those watching watched as if it were in slow motion; Mark tumbled through the air slowly and when he hit the snow he sunk in and was buried. After that came the dragon. It fell slower but when it hit the ground the snow flew up off the ground and filled the sky. When they could finally see, they ran towards it shouting for Mark.

Lumen ran forward and called “MARK IS BURIED UNDER ITS WING! HE’S TRAPPED!”

 

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If you didn't read the long epic version, here is a shortened, unepic version:

 

Mark went up north to visit the guy from the last story but was ambushed by a dragon with a cool name. They are outnumbered and unprepared for war but Mark epically slays the beast as can be expected. Mark is caught under the dragon’s wing with no way out.

 

Pretty unepic, huh? The long story is better... :)

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I really like this dragon even though there were some struggles with him. It was my first dragon but I learned alot. The main struggle was not having sturdy enough joints for his legs at first (I realized I had some hiding on another build which are now on the dragon). So it was resolved!

Please let me know what you think of the dragon (and the story ;) )

 

 

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Taken on June 13, 2015