# The Frozen North



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Hello to all! I told OXC that I would start writing before the week ended, and it it now late Saturday, so I'd best get to it! This is the sequel to _Oathbreaker_, my first Fantasy fic, if you want to read it I'd be happy to PM you the whole thing.

So, without gilding the lily, and with no more ado, here we go!

CONTENTS

1: Prophecies
2: Journey's End
3: Icefang
4: Lights and Clockwork
5: Sydney's Promise
6: Foreboding
7: Four Winds
8: The Storm
9: Holdout
10: Arrival
11: Drakonire
12: Shadow's Fall
13: _A Psalm Every Day_
14: Heretic
15: No Prisoners, No Mercy
16: Restoration
17: Through the Ashes
18: Irieus
19: His People
20: A New Beginning

-Dirge
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PROPHECIES
---------------

_The old world is ending.

I have known for near an age. The young races of the world are growing, while the Old Folk wither and die, like day passing into night. The ancient keep of Icefang, once the jewel of the northern kingdom, lies abandoned, forgotten by the creatures that plague the Wastes. I wait in darkening halls, alone with only this clockwork tower as company, waiting in dying hope that one will rise to claim Icefang as their own, and return it to glory.

I am waiting for you, young one._

Althalos jerked awake.

Sydney was sitting on her haunches at the mouth of the cavern the pair were staying in for the night. The great black dragon yawned widely, showing her razor fangs. Her wings shuffled against the walls as her eyes scanned the cold wastes for signs of foul creatures or marauders. Her thoughts brushed against his.

_You were speaking in your sleep, little one.

I had a dream.

Would you like to share it?

Not really a dream. I saw a frozen tower, full of cogs and wheels... a clockwork army. A single, robed figure. I believe he was attempting to speak to me.

They say many witches dwell in the Northern Waste. Perhaps he was one?

Maybe.... but he seemed perfectly benign.

The poisoned apple may look harmless.

A saying? From you? You're growing _wise_ in your old age.

My old age of twenty?

You're at least the size of a Steam Tank. You're old.

Not old, little one. Just bigger then you. And look at you! You need to eat more. Your armor's loose.

Yes, I know. I haven't found anything to hunt in nigh two days. I'm down to six crusts and a few dried jerkeys.

Let me loose. I'll be back in an hour with a brace of deer. Think you can keep yourself alive until then?

Until then, friend of my heart?

Until then, little one._

Althalos stood in the cave mouth for a long time, pondering the vision, as he watched Sydney fly off into the night.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

JOURNEY'S END
---------------

Althalos shivered. Sydney flew low to avoid the horrific downdrafts and bone-chilling cold of the upper clouds in the Wastes. The dragon under him was as warm as the stones of a fireplace, but from waist up, he was freezing under his light travelling armor and cloak.

_I told you to wear something else._ sniffed Sydney.

_Excuse me for not growing scales.

Justify it how you will, little one._

She banked hard, floating over a mercenary encampment. The men shouted in rough tongues and shook spears, though none dared loose an arrow. Haze, Althalos' familiar, flowed from the hilt of the sword, Vrolmgang, into Althalos' armor. Wherever the creature touched, he felt a little warmer. Chittering happily, the familiar slicked out of his armor and back into the hellish-looking Runeblade.

He adjusted one of the straps on Sydney's side, making her snort as it tickled her underbelly. The strap carried a waterskin the size of Althalos' leg, and was essential for survival in the North. 

After four more hours of grueling, frozen flight, Sydney squinted as she saw something in the mists.

_Little one,_ she thought. _I do not think that is natural._

Althalos looked up from a parchment map he was reading.

_By Sigmar..._

A towering, iron-clad fortress rose from the Wastes like an iceberg at sea, covered in engraved plates and snow-encrusted battlements. It was fully two miles wide and long, and a good four hundred feet high. A single, rune-covered gate stood against the Wastes. The entire fortress was completely covered in thick iron, with brass scrollwork decorating the outer reaches. A dockyard for dozens of skyships rose above the main tower, and lights glowed from fully six forges. The tower was crusted with icicles and snowbanks, giving it a chilled, ancient feel. A banner showed a black sword against a white backround, surrounded by black cogs and gears. A single yellow star shone at the sword's point, representing the North Star, Althalos guessed. 

A glint of light warned him, and Sydney dove hard as a dozen bullets flew over the pair. A second volley fired from the fort, catching Sydney in three places and making her level out beneath the men's line of sight. She swept up the edge of the fort, landing on the parapet. A man with thick goggles and a long rifle stared in stupefied astonishment a second before he was consumed in ravening fire. Althalos leapt to the parapet, swinging. A half-dozen strokes saw three more men dead. A second sqaud of riflemen lined up shots over the barricaded tower to Sydney's left, and Althalos pulled the gold-chased pistol Kyyl had given him from his belt. A single seventy-caliber brass slug blew the majority of a guard's head from his shoulders. Two more shots rang out, and Althalos jumped back as the sharpshooters' fire spanked off the metal around him. Sydney swung around and more fire burst from her jaws, immolating the remaining men. 

A dozen men with shorter, stubbier weapons exited a tower down the wall, accompanied by two men heaving a huge, multi-barreled weapon. The gun chattered as one man turned a crank. Sydney gasped as a half-dozen of the slugs chewed through her scaly hide and wounded her. Althalos roared in rage and shared pain, firing back with a burst of Death magic, the black bolt flying from his glove to strike the man turning the crank. Within seconds, the man was a blackened skeleton, to the horror of his partner, who dropped the gatling weapon and ran. The leader of the shotgunners shot the man point-blank, then glared at the body before resuming the charge. Althalos' pistol barked, downing the burly commander, but his fellows came on. Three more fell to accurate shots before Althalos drew Vrolmgang with a flourish, and leapt into the midst of the men. He swung left, then right, cleaving a man's body into three pieces. Sydney clawed her way back upright and snaked her head down, clamping her jaws onto a soldier and biting down. Blood fountained as the shorn legs fell to the ground. Two men leapt onto Althalos, pinning his sword arm. A shotgun entered his field of vision, and he closed his eyes.

"Stop!" roared a voice. The sound of Sydney chewing through a second team of men instantly ceased, and the men pinning Althalos looked up.

"Did ANYONE bother to find out who this traveller is BEFORE they opened fire?" bellowed the voice. The men stammered denials and stepped back, helping Althalos up. A man in a deep red cloak stood on the wall, in front of a dozen metal-clad soldiers. As Althalos looked closer, he realized the "men" were in fact machines, clockwork soldiers. Small steam pipes rose from their backs, and they clicked and whirred as their weapons whipped from target to target. Their leader, obvious by the gold paint on his head and shoulders, had a small mortar attached to his arm. The clockwork man held a torch over the fuse of the weapon.

Althalos' savior turned to the leader of the shotgunners. "You! Where is Delanus? He's supposed to be in charge of the garrison!"

The man looked at his feet. "I...I don't know, sir."

"Damned right you don't! Go get him! He's probably in one of the taverns below, wasting my goddamned time as usual!"

The man dropped his weapon and sprinted for the tower.

The red-robed warrior moved toward Althalos, looking at the shabby half-elven. Althalos' clothes were ragged by the week of travel, and he had scrapes and bruises from a dozen scuffles with the Northern Wastes' natives. Sydney was a little better, her scales had turned a light grey from the dust, and her eyes were red-rimmed from the pain of the gunshots. Althalos flinched in pain as they twinged.

"We don't get the likes of you here." said the man.

Althalos brushed off the comment. "She's hurt. She needs medicine."

The man looked behind Althalos, no doubt trying to spy a woman with a crucial ailment.

"Who?" asked the man, cocking an eyebrow.

"Her!" thundered Althalos, pointing Vrolmgang at Sydney. 

A man wearing white robes hurried over to the mage, and he pointed at the dragon. The apothecary nodded and pulled a set of heavy forceps from his pocket. Althalos gritted his teeth in pain as the medicae pulled the heavy slugs out of Sydney's hide. Bandages were placed over the wounds, and a few near-misses were stitched with thick twine. Sydney licked the wounds with her long tongue, fussing over the medic's work.

"Now then," said the red-robed man. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Zacharias, of Icefang Keep and leader of the Clockwork Temple."

"Althalos Half-Elven, the Drakonire, and this is Sydney Darkscales." said Althalos, indicating himself, then Sydney. She growled at the man as her name was mentioned.

"I apologize for the guards. The Icefang Sharpshooters are trained to fire on anything out in the Wastes. Most of it isn't friendly, and none of it has any business in Icefang. So, my friend, what bringa you to the Wastes?"

"I was told by a dying man that I belonged out here."

"A dying man? Hmpf! Everyone's a seer nowadays. That's why I became a master of Clockwork. No changes, no mystic rites, just you, your tools, and a pile of metal."

"As fascinating as that is, can we go inside? May we stay here for the night?"

"You can stay here forever, should you choose, lad! I've never seen better aim with a revolver in my life! Long rifles, sure, but Icefang is famous for those. Handguns are something of a rarity here. Come, the keep is below. It will come with, no?"

Sydney started at the mention of _it_.

"_She_ will come with, yes." growled Althalos. Zacharias nodded and led them through a huge, winding starcase down into the keep's depths. Althalos expected the warren of stone tunnels that populated most keeps, but Icefang was evidently just a facade. Inside the walls and the massive ceiling, a sprawling, multi-tiered city was built. Stone and iron huts hung over each other, while cables spanned the keep's walls, suspending fat cars full of people or supplies. A single metal ziggurat emblazoned with the sword-and-cog insignia rose above everything else, soaring out of sight into the keep's ceiling and out the top. 

"Behold, Icefang." said Zacharias with a sweeping gesture. "We don't get many travelers, this north in the Wastes, but when they do come, it's a big thing. Don't be shocked if you recieve gifts, or marriage proposals, depending on who you talk to. Now come!" 

Althalos looked over the city with amazement, Sydney with something like respect. The dragon leaned down and nudged Althalos forward, following Zacharias down the long steps to the city plaza. A stone statue of a robed man holding a blacksmith's hammer stood in the center of the square, which was bustling with people of all shapes and colors. Althalos saw people from the Empire, Brettonia, Araby, and a dozen others all crammed into the far north. The mass of people and the numerous fires raised the temperature to comfortably warm, and Althalos removed his cloak. Suddenly, as Sydney stepped into the square, every pair of eyes swung to face Dragon and Rider.

An awkward silence decended on the square, Althalos, Sydney, and Zacharias on one side, and hundreds people of Icefang on the other. A small child broke the lines, walking up to Sydney. The boy's mother made a futile grab for him before she started at the sight of Sydney's teeth and stopped.

The boy looked up at the dragon, who cocked her head at the sight. Sydney reached down, and the mother gave a startled yelp. Sydney touched the boy on the head, and sniffed at his hair. She snorted as she smelled him, making the child giggle and squirm. The boy ran back to his mother with a broad smile, and the entirety of the crowd cheered. Althalos managed a sheepish wave before sprinting after Zacahrias down a sidestreet. The building the tech-mage had led them to was large, with a single spiral stair leading to a wide second floor, with a huge hole in the side, apparently for ventilation, but would serve perfectly for Sydney to get in and out of the dwelling. Althalos looked at the man.

"Thank you."

Zacharias bowed slightly. "Not at all, traveler! Tomorrow, I'll take you to visit Lord Icefang himself, and then you will be free to stay or leave!"

Sydney snorted and flapped her wings once, rising into the house and settling down on the wide, padded floor. 

_Get some sleep, little one. We shall put this puzzle together tomorrow._


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## Vaz (Mar 19, 2008)

Dirge, this is excellent work as always.

One criticism, the name 'Sydney' struck me as very odd for a Dragon. I know it's a sequel, but _why_ Sydney? And not something -ithnir like the rest of the Dragons?


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

I'm not sure. Really I just made up all the names, and I decided I would probably contract arthritis trying to write some dragonesque name over and over, so I decided on something simple and quick. Laziness is probably my excuse. But I also have a cop-out! Seeing as Althalos found her as an egg, presumably he named her. So, maybe there's something to that, or you can stick with the "Dirge does not like to write mind-pretzeling words over and over" excuse.

Thanks for the feedback!
-Dirge


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

ICEFANG
--------

Sydney's eyes fluttered open. She was laying on her side, her long body curved gently around the room. Althalos lay against her stomach, breathing deeply. She raised her head, careful not to move or wake Althalos, and stared out onto the city. People bustled to and fro, goods were thrown from roofs onto carts, and small cranes hoisted them back up. The very edges of the keep were farmland, crops being able to grow in the warmer interior of the fortress. As she watched, a dozen men with fat goggles and rifles walked by, looking every way for wrongdoers. Their leader looked strangely familiar to the dragon. It was the leader of the shotgunners from the previous day. She snorted as he walked beneath the house's overhanging second floor, and the man flinched. His men let out small snickers and moved on. Sydney's eyes lit up with amusement and she lay her head back down, thinking.

An hour later, she felt Althalos wake with a start, drawing a dagger and slashing the air as he leapt forward.

_A little high strung?_

Althalos' breathing evened and he dropped the weapon.

_Uh... no. Just a new place. I have a right to be high-strung.

True. But Zacharias has placed six armed sentries around the lower floor, in case the populace proves less then admirable.

Remember how I told you Lukas and I got into the house in Nuln?

Through the roof. I understand, little one, but I must argue...._

She snorted a lick of fire across the room, setting a pile of parchment aflame. Althalos smiled.

_What would I do without you?

You would be dead thrice over, little one._

He smiled and got up, rubbing her neck as he passed to the pile of his gear. A knock resounded from the door, and a man wearing a monacle and carrying a long rifle stuck his head in.

"Sir...Zacharias is waiting below. He wishes to speak with you, if possible. Your dragon can come too."

Altahlos chuckled as he belted on Vrolmgang. "I severely doubt you'd be able to stop her, warrior."

"Her, sir?" asked the man, staring at Sydney.

"Her." repeated Althalos. Sydney snaked her head over to stare at the warrior.

_Do you think Dragons simply spring out of holes in the ground?_ she growled. 

"Well, no... I... uh. I have to.. go. Ma'am, sir." he stammered, before stumbling back down the steps.

_Such competance. I have great faith in these men._ Sydney grumbled, drawing another smile from Althalos.

_And you think I have trouble trusting people._

He leapt onto her back and the pair fell to street level, Sydney rising to her full height as Zacharias and six sharpshooters looked on. Zacharias applauded, and the men joined in.

"Well, well, dragon rider, It would seem that you've caused quite a stir. Lord Icefang himself wishes to speak to you."

"Is Icefang his name?"

"No. Lord Icefang is a title. His name is Uther. Now then, when you speak to him, don't mention his hobby, or his wife. Don't stare at the guns, and whatever you do, _do not_ let your guard down. Uther is a man of honor, and he will be offended if you immediately submit to him."

"Thank you." said Althalos. Sydney repeated the acceptance, and then took off, flying low over the city's spires and roofs. The air was thick, but the tallest building was only three hundred feet high, leaving her plenty of room to fly unhindered. The Icefang Keep was a single spire, rising through the roof of the fortress to soar another two hundred feet above the walls. Sydney landed on the steps to the Keep's entrance hall, in a square in the city center.

"Welcome, traveller. Lord Icefang is waiting upstairs." said a guard, wearing a long bearskin cloak and carrying a halberd. Sydney tried to follow, but the doors were too small for her to fit. 

_Be careful. If he tries anything, I will tear this place apart brick by brick to find you.

I know. Take care._ 

The doors slammed shut, and Sydney sat down in front of the gates, glaring at each guard in turn, fire flickering between her jaws. The men edged away from her and sweat began to bead on their brows.

Althalos climbed a long stair to a platform that attached itself to the ground in front of him. The stone circle shot upwards so quickly Althalos was driven to his knees, not expecting the sudden climb. His ears popped. The magical stone stopped as suddenly as it had started, and he climbed off onto a landing, with a door at the end. Two men in silver armor opened the doors. Lord Icefang stood looking out a large window onto the city. The walls were covered with guns of all shapes and sizes. Blunderbuss, shotguns, rifles, carbines, scoped dart throwers and spike rifles.

"Wayfarer. Do you know how many guards you slaughtered yesterday?" said Uther.

"I know not, I lost count." retorted Althalos.

"How dare you- uh! Nevermind!" raged Uther. "Zacharias may have his trust, but I for one will not stand and let you murder men and get away with it!"

"They fired first!" 

Uther stopped dead.

"What?"

"I responded to a volley from six weapons."

"Damnation! Delanus must have put the guard on alert before he went drinking again!"

He spoke to a guard, and the man nodded before hurrying off.

"Another issue concerns me, warrior. Word has reached my ears that you travel with a dragon. A _black_ dragon, no less."

"And?"

"And I dislike having such an obviously feral animal in my city! You will remove it at once!"

Althalos' temper turned white-hot, fueled by Sydney's own hatred.

"I will do no. such. thing." said Althalos, slowly. His hand flexed at the pistol on his belt. Uther's face twisted in anger. Althalos moved his hand away from the gun.

"Do you know how many times that "feral animal" has saved my life? More times then you can count, although you may have to stop once you run out of fingers! I will not take a slur on her honor, or my own! Good day, sir!" 

He turned to leave, and Uther snarled.

"Cretin! Turn when I speak to you!"

Althalos marshalled his powers. Black wisps of Death Magic swirled around his gauntlets. Uther started.

"You would dare! Guards! Guards! Seize him!"

The men started forward. An elderly man wearing black robes, with a silver helm, walked into the room. His beard hung to his chest, and was riddled with runes and charms.

"That's enough, Severus. This one will not be trouble."

"My lord! But...but he is a witch! He has a dragon! Of _course_ he is trouble!"

The newcomer smiled warmly. "I think not. Severus, fetch a guard to open the Starlight. The dragon deserves to speak to me as well."

"But, my lord! I would not leave you with one such as he!"

"It will be fine, Severus. I summoned him."

"Lord?"

"Go!"

The man Althalos thought was Uther ran from the room. The old man handed Althalos a mug of spiced ale, which he sipped gratefully.

"Severus is a bit unbending in his devotion, though a better guard I could not ask for. I am Lord Uther Icefang, wayfarer, and unless I miss my guess, you are Althalos Half-Elven, and your dragon would be Sydney Darkscales?"

Althalos sputtered. "How-?"

Uther held up a hand. "I have my ways, most recently Zacharias telling me your names. Now, then."

He smiled as the roof opened, and Sydney dove through, landing with a _crack_ on the stone floor. She nuzzled Althalos, then turned to give a withering glare to Severus, who looked at the floor.

"He meant no disrespect, great Dragon. Severus is to ensure no assassin may reach me unhindered. He is only doing his job. Right, Severus?"

A stammered "yes" reached Sydney's ears, and she turned back to Uther.

"So then, you have come. Aurum was very sure of your abilities."

Althalos was taken aback by the mention of Aurum. The ancient creature had guided him to free six dragons held in the Empire, and then lay seige to the city of Telthis, in order to kill his arch-rival, Jakob Vernier. Vernier had killed himself in the battle, and Althalos had left.

"You know Aurum?"

"I would be surprised to find someone I did not know, Althalos. For a seer such as I, it's something of a shock to find a person whose name I am not aware of. However, Aurum and I have a past. He was once my dragon as Sydney is yours. During the time of Sigmar, we parted ways."

"How?" asked Althalos, aghast. He remembered the pain he had felt leaving Sydney to fight in Nuln.

"We were not bonded as you are, child. We simply fought together for a time. This was before he was confined to that statue, of course."

Althalos nodded. "Did you call me to talk?"

Uther adjusted his helm. "Ah. Of course not. Come."

He led Althalos and Sydney to a larger room leading off the central chamber. A massive orrey was in the center of the room, immobile. The room was darkened, and it was clear the source of energy for the orrey was not working.

"This is the central hub of the Icefang Keep. Aurum's engineers built it during the Errantry Wars' first years. It fell silent when the Storm of Chaos built up in the east. I have been gathering magic users for that time to try and get it working again."

"Your orrey?"

"Not just an orrey, lad! This focuses the magic that naturally occurs in Icefang's lower depths, turns it to good! Crops grow, fresh water falls in great drops, and children are born free of disease! Without it, we have been suffering a slow decline. We need a power source, but without you, I wasn't sure the few magicians we had could pull it off. Once you get it started, the orrey's spin should provide enough power to keep it lit forever. We just need the initial kick-start, if you will."

Althalos pondered this.

"What do we get?" he asked.

Uther seemed taken aback. "Well, you would get lodging and food for that house Zacharias provided you, and free passage to and from Icefang, although I could throw in an Icefang rifle."

"Deal." said Althalos, shaking Uther's hand. The old man smiled warmly and Althalos drank the last of the ale in his mug. A guard turned the crank to open the Starlight again, and the pair exited into the Keep's air again.

As the pair left, Severus walked back into the room.

"Lord?"

Uther turned.

"What do you think?"

The old man smiled. "Oh, I think they'll do fine, Severus. They're quite the pair. Reminds me of myself and Aurum, when I was young."

Uther turned back to the window, and Severus yanked a knife from his belt, stabbing Uther in the back.

"Why?" gasped Uther, wounded.

"Filthy dragon lover." snarled Severus. The guards nodded. 

"Take him to the dungeon."


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

LIGHTS AND CLOCKWORK
------------------------

Zacharias closed the doors to the Clockwork Temple, locking the thick portal. A clockwork soldier nodded to him as he passed, walking down the steps to the tech-mage's quarters. 

A double line of Icefang's soldiery stomped into the Temple grounds. Their leader approached Zacharias brandishing a scroll.

"By order of Lord Severus all tech-adepts are to disband immediately. The clockwork armies will be deactivated, and tech-mage Zacharias, you, are to accompany us to the Icefang Dungeons for conspiracy to commit murder."

"Murder?!" shouted Zacharias, horrified.

"Did you not allow the dragon rider and his charge into Icefang Keep? Lord Uther was murdered just before they left. The assassin is being tracked down now."

"Impossible! Severus has killed Lord Icefang! Betrayal!"

"Seize him!" howled the guard. Men jumped onto Zacharias, chaining his limbs and dragging him out of the Grounds.

"Alpha!" yelled Zacharias. "Contingency 066! Contact Wayfarer!"

The nearest clockwork man nodded imperceptably, unknown to the guards. One tied a rag around Zacharias' mouth, and the tech-mage was dragged from the Temple.

A half-hour later, a platoon of guards broke the door of Althalos' house down, storming in with halberds and pistols. Sydney leaned out of the second floor and immolated more then half. The remaining men cowered against the wall, close to the stairs. Their leader stared in terror at the long sword blade that suddenly protruded from his chest. A shot rang out, and a second guard fell, clutching the gaping wound in his chest. The last five turned and ran at Althalos, who shot another before leaping into their midst. Vrolmgang flashed, beheading the third man. Althalos turned swiftly, dodging a halberd, before slaying the man with Death magic. His comrades recoiled in horror, and he fired two more shots, killing them both.

_Treachery!

We do not yet know.

I know! We have to escape!_

A resounding _crash_ echoed through the house as one of the clockwork men smashed through the rear door. Althalos whipped around. A grating, mechanical voice spoke through the unit mounted in the man's chest.

"Contigency zero-six-six Activated. Wayfarer, located. Message playing."

Zacharias' voice echoed through the speaker.

"Hello. If you have recieved this message, there has been a coup at Icefang Keep, likely Severus. Use my men at the Clockwork Temple. The code is "Ferrus". Zacharias out."

Althalos looked at Sydney. 

_Get my armor, little one. It would appear we have a target.

Agreed._

Sydney's armor match Althalos' own, also having been made at Aeyri Peak. It was deep black, the same color as her scales, edged with silver. Armor was laid on her legs, belly, back, and neck. Finally Althalos laid a single curved piece of metal on her head. The helm was also black, with a single rune representing "Storm" on the brow. Two fangs of black steel extended from the helmet, ending below her jaws, helping her to bite armored opponents. Althalos strapped on his own armor, and reloaded the pistol. He climbed into the saddle, and Sydney took off. They flew very low, skirting rooftops. Sydney landing in the grounds of the Clockwork Temple. A dozen guards instantly surrounded him, clicking and whirring. A few showed signs of struggle, and Althalos realized the machines must have been defending the Temple since Zacharias and his acolytes were arrested. Their leader, a monstrous clockwork man with a gatling gun on each arm, approached. 

"Unknown contact. Input Code, five seconds." It hummed.

"Code...Ferrus"

The machines stiffened.

"Orders?"

Althalos grinned.

"Take the Icefang Keep."

"Order received. Implementing Orders."

The clockwork men turned as one, and stomped toward the Keep. Althalos jumped onto Sydney's back, and she took off, following the flood of machine men out of the Clockwork Temple. A block away, a similar army of Severus' private guards exited the palace gates, carrying heavy rifles and halberds. The men lined up and fired, the first rank of clockwork men being scythed down. The machines returned fire, shredding guards. Sydney swept down, a plume of flames engulfing twenty guards. Althalos leapt from her back to cleave a man's head in half. The clockwork men's leader stomped over him, weapons chattering. The Icefang guards panicked and broke, the last few being cut to pieces by clockworks with razor blade attachments.

The gates burst open, and sixty-seven clockwork men smashed their way into the keep. Althalos and Sydney swept onto the platform leading up, while the clockworks fought bitterly for control of the main levels. The magical elevator halted at Uther's chambers, and the pair stepped off to face Severus and six of his personal guards.

"Drakonire." said Severus, holding a massive broadsword.

"How did you know that name?" growled Althalos.

"It's common knowledge, Drakonire. You're the last pair of Bonded between dragons and the other species of the world. Now, the dragon is the real reason I'm here. Been a while since I hunted a Black, but I'm sure I'm up to the challenge."

Sydney shouldered her way through the door.

_Hunted?!_ she thundered.

"Ah, yes." said Severus, pulling a necklace laced with a dozen scales from his chest. "Dragon hunter. Blacks are the most expensive for sale at market."

_Foul, inbred swine!_ raged Sydney, fire licking around her jaws.

Althalos stepped between Severus and Sydney. 

"You will not touch her." whispered Althalos. Severus laughed.

"And I suppose you'll be the one to stop me?"

"No." said Althalos. Severus started.

"This will." Althalos pulled Vrolmgang from his belt. Haze licked up the blade, giving the sword's black aura a horrific, shadowy glare.

Severus made a hand gesture, and the guards stepped to the edge of the room.

"Then it is to the death."

Althalos bared his teeth. "Of course."

Severus threw himself at Althalos, swinging the sword. Vrolmgang came up and deflected it. Althalos blocked another swing, and then nicked Severus on the leg. The man roared in rage and pain. Severus stomped on Althalos' foot, sending the half-elven stumbling toward the massive window in the side of the keep. Vrolmgang flashed into black fire, and sliced cleanly through the broadsword. Severus swung the broken haft in a wide arc, and Althalos leapt back. The haft stabbed forward, and Althalos grabbed Severus' arm, swinging the big man around, his back facing the window. He drew back his fist and punched Severus, then pulled the revolver from his belt, holding it an inch from Severus' face.

"You cheated." said Severus, dropping the hilt of his weapon.

"You started it." retorted Althalos, fuelled by Sydney's rage. The pistol barked, and Severus' face imploded. The window shattered as the bullet, then the body, fell to the steps three hundred feet below. Severus' guards fell to one knee.

"Have mercy." said their leader, a white crest on his helm.

_There will be none._ growled Sydney.

"Please!" begged the guard.

"Go downstairs." said Althalos. "Turn over your weapons to the clockwork guards, and then follow any instructions they have."

"Thank you, lord!" the guard said. The men stomped toward the elevator, and Sydney allowed Althalos to climb onto her back before she fell to the floor of the keep. Two Clockwork guards stood at the door to the dungeons, led by Zacharias. 

"Good to see you, wayfarer. Lord Icefang wishes to speak to you. He lives, but not for long! Come!"

Althalos followed the mage down the steps to a cell. Uther lay on the cot, blood dripping from the bandage hastily applied by a medicae. 

"Althalos, lad. I see you." he said. 

"Uther." said Althalos.

"You must not allow the Keep to fall into infighting! The lords will squabble over my successor, and the lords will take their time. You must put an end to it as soon as possible!"

"Of course, of course."

Uther pulled a ring from his finger.

"Use this at dawn on the third day. At dusk, look south."

Althalos took the ring. "I-I don't understand."

"You will, laddie. Goodbye."

Althalos cradled the old man's body as his eyes closed, and his breathing stopped. Zacharias stood at the door to the cell, tears brimming in his eyes.

"And so passes Lord Uther Icefang, sixty-fifth Lord of the Keep." he said.

Sydney brushed Althalos' thoughts.

_There will be vengeance._ she whispered.


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

As good as the last one!

Still I don't actually remember much, if any magic in the last. Is that because there is more in this or have I just forgotten it all?


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

There's some in the last, mostly as filler when I decided "and he swung the sword again" was getting old. I purposely gave Althalos a pistol in _Oathbreaker_ because the all the melee was getting on my nerves. I suppose the level is about the same, but it's more pronounced now. If you read through _Oathbreaker_ carefully, he uses magic about every other chapter.

Thanks for feedback! 
-Dirge


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

SYDNEY'S PROMISE
------------------

The next day, Althalos woke early, leaving for the Keep in the city center. He followed Zacharias down the steps of the Icefang Keep, Sydney behind him. The tech-mage was hiccuping sobs, trying to keep his face shrouded under the red robes of his order. Sixteen Icefang Guards, those loyal to Uther, carried the man's body on two tower shields, their armor wrapped in black cloths. Uther was laid out in full battle armor, silver and gold scrollwork decorated his bronze-colored armor. A beautifully inscribed blade rested on his chest, his hands clasped around the hilt. A golden helm with ice-colored gems in it rested on his head. 

The procession passed a dozen houses, all packed with mourners. Black-robed priests, merchants, farmers, and warriors all stood on the road's edge, some crying, all saddened. Rose petals were thrown from balconies as they passed. They reached a coutyard of stone, dozens of monoliths edged the yard. A single crypt was open, a black hole in the light grey stone.

A tech-adept in white robes instead of the usual red stepped in front of Uther's body, cradling a book in one hand and a vial of blessed oil in the other. He twisted the vial's lid, exposing a mesh of wire. Shaking the oil over Uther's body, he read aloud.

"Under the Stars, we are gathered to remember Lord Uther Icefang, the Sixty-Fifth Lord of Icefang Keep. He fell to a vile trick by the thrice-accursed Severus, who was in turn slain by the Wayfarers Althalos Half-Elven and Sydney Darkscales. Lord Uther was a good lord, and for many years the city of Icefang prospered under his just rule. We can only hope that his successor will be as fair and generous as Lord Uther was, both to the people and the travelers that found their way to Icefang over the years. Many years he lived in Icefang Citadel, but only recently had he ascended to the throne, to his credit humbly remaining Master of the Aeries until only twelve years ago, when Lord Francis Icefang was killed in battle with a troll."

The people around Althalos bowed their heads, and he followed suit. He felt Sydney's discomfort as she unbent her pride far enough to lower her stare.

"This was requested to be spoken at Lord Uther's burial." said the adept. 

"It is a dangerous business, stepping out your door. Because if you don't watch your feet, there can be no telling where you might be swept off to. Signed, Adept Pelanus, scribe to Aurum Goldscales."

The people who knew Uther walked up to the litter of shields to pay their respects. Althalos and Sydney were second to last, just behind Zacharias. The tech-mage laid a golden cog down on Uther's chest, and spoke two words. Althalos and Sydney stood for a time, staring at the dead leader of Icefang. Sydney blinked slowly.

_I'm going to fix it._ she thought, a touch of reverence in her tone.

_How? Even all the magic-users here could not.

I will fix the orrey. For him._

Althalos put his hand on her shoulder, and the two departed as Uther was lowered into the crypt, and the stone placed on top, sealing the king of Icefang forever under the ground.

-------------------------------------------------

Sydney sat alone in the house's second floor, Althalos having gone to the first meeting between the Lords of the Keep, a gathering to determine the next ruler. From his thoughts, fleeting as they were, she gathered support was behind Zacharias to take over, temporarily. She sniffed at the air, smelling the printer's ink a store to the left, and the herbalist on the right. A blacksmith on the corner sent out a bitter, burned smell that tickled her nostrils and she snorted ash over the wood floor. Her thoughts strayed to the fighting at Aeyri Peak, over four months before, and the battle of Telthis, little more then three months past. She thought of her brothers and sisters in the Whispering Caves beneath the mountain, and of Corvus, the black dragon who she had given her affection while they were together, short a time as it was. 

She twisted her neck, staring at her belly. Althalos had dismissed the fact that the straps of her saddle were growing shorter as Sydney gaining scales, insulation from the Northern Wastes' climate. Her eyes glinted. This was only partially true.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Come on folks, It seems 90% of the time, when I post in the middle of my stories, it's to tell people to POST FEEDBACK! It isn't difficult! Just type in "I like it!" or "Why did _____ happen?!"

So, POST!!! It's what keeps these stories on-track and free of WTF.
-Dirge
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FOREBODING
------------

Althalos leaned over the railing overlooking the Chamber of Lords. A dozen men and women sat in armchairs around a circle-shaped opening, populated by three Royal Guard, Zacharias, and the Speaker of the House. 

"I say!" huffed the nearest one. "House Redic has provided over ninety percent of the foodstuffs and dairy products for generations! Where would you be without us!?"

"Not nearly as dead as if the Orelians were not here to provide masons and building materials!"

"Gentlemen! You are both wrong! It is the Jade Temple that provides for all!"

"Nay! The Priesthood of Sigmar is the spiritual center of the city! The Church must lead in this time of need!"

Althalos sighed and vaulted over the rail, snatching the Speaker's staff from his hand and holding it up. The Sword-on-cog insignia glowed in the light. 

"People of Icefang. I've only been here a few days, and I have already participated in a civil war, fought a traitorous Lord, and been invited to deliberate the next Lord Icefang. You will have a vote. I nominate Zacharias of the Clockwork Temple."

The fat man who had spoken first sat up. "I nominate myself, Lord Valin Redic of House Redic!"

A woman with a devotional icon around her neck stood up. "I nominate Confessor Julius Killan, of the Sigmar Priesthood."

The Speaker nodded his thanks and took the staff back. Guards passed out three cards to each Lord or Mistress, one with each contestant's name on it. Redic smiled and tore two of the cards in half. Zacharias smiled as he handed the guard on his right a card. The cards were passed back down, in order of the favored contestant first, the second contestant second, and the least favorite last. Zacharias explained the rules as the Guards sorted the cards.

"A First vote is a point for the contestant. A Second does not count for or against that contestant. A Third is detrimental, and removes a point."

The Speaker began to chalk up the numbers. Three votes for Julius the Priest were quickly established, then one was erased. The woman who had nominated the Priest started. Redic came up with four points, and Zacharias had four, when the final vote was cast. 

"And the final vote stands at Julius, Zacharias, Redic. We have a winner!" said the Speaker.

"This is an outrage!" roared Redic. "As a member of the House of Lords, I will not bow to some gear-turning....heretic!"

The Speaker lifted his staff. "Take a seat, Lord Redic."

"As a Lord, I gain one vote by the Rites Icefang!"

The Speaker rolled his eyes. The Rites Icefang decreed Lords started at one vote, to keep the Lesser Houses from getting too much power.

"So we have a tie. Zacharias of the Clockwork and Lord Redic both stand at five votes."

The skinny woman stood up again. "Let the Wayfarer vote. He, after all, slew the Betrayer. He should have a say in our next Lord Icefang."

Vrolmgang shivered in it's scabbard as Haze flinched at the sudden burst of rage from Redic. The fat man was shaking with rage, his face reddening.

"I vote for Zacharias, Julius, Redic." said Althalos, looking Redic straight in the eye. The big man howled in fury and stormed from the Chamber, taking down two chairs and shoving the Guards out of his way.

Zacharias deflated, as though a weight were lifted from his shoulders.

"Thank you. Redic has long hungered for the Icefang Throne, and we would do well to not let him have it."

The Speaker stepped between them, holding Uther's silver helm. Zacharias took it from his hands, and with a shaking grip, placed it on his head.

"We now enter the days of Lord Zacharias Icefang, Sixty-Sixth Lord of the Keep."

Althalos smiled. "May they be blessed."

------------------------------

He walked down the steps to the cobblestone road that ran through the city to the great Gates that led out into the Wastes. Redic stood by the door to the Council Chamber.

"Damn you, boy. I didn't lobby for months to become the premier choice for Lordship only to have you ruin it! I'm going to call for a recount, and bar you from the proceedings!" 

A triumphant smirk etched itself across his portly features.

"The lordship has been decreed," said the Speaker, stepping down after Althalos. "There will be no recounts, or misvotes."

Redic's mouth dropped open as he saw Zacharias walk down the street to the Icefang Keep's gate, surrounded by the Royal Guard. Sydney dove from the upper reaches of the keep's ceiling to land beside Althalos, folding her wings neatly against her back. She bent to lick Althalos' face.

_Little one. How was the men-meet-lord-choice?

It went well. Zacharias will be the next Lord Icefang.

That is good news indeed. I have some for you as well.

Really?

Yes. Word came by another wayfarer that the Shield over Aeyri Peaks was lowered._

Althalos remembered the magical barrier protected Aeyri Peaks from all attackers, but also prevented the people from leaving. Aurum had raised it just after Althalos had left, to protect his fiefdom from the Empire's retribution.

_Why?

He did not know. But he did say the people of Mourngard and the Thronhold are leaving soon. Aurum has decreed they abandon the Peak.

I wonder why.

As do I, little one. But we can do nothing now.

Why? We have to go help them!

The man also brought word of a vast host of Chaos approaching. They will be here by nightfall tomorrow.

Tomorrow! We must warn-

He has already been notified. If you listen, you will hear._

Althalos raised his head, listening. A drum beat far off in the city. Men hurried to and fro. Women took up hammers and forceps, banging metal into shape and stitching bandages. Rock was being dragged from a pit dug into the ground in the far north of the Keep to the walls. A troop of Clockwork men stomped past dragon and rider, their weapons spooling up and stopping as the machines ran their tests.

_It seems trouble has found us again.

Trouble follows you, little one. Doubtless without me you would be dead thrice over!

You may be onto something._


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## Master Andael (Jan 18, 2008)

I like it, Dirge. Especially the quote from the Lord of the Rings.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Update tomorrow, a bit too late for me to do anything now... I actually have to do some work!

-Dirge


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

More brilliant work dirge, I just read all that straight, and I love it. Great work buddy.


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## Micklez (Nov 22, 2008)

Nice story mate, but it does seem a little bit like a re-skinned _Eragon_ story. Not that that is a bad thing though, just seems a little un-original. But like i said, good story


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

I did take quite a bit of the fluffier stuff from Eragon, but I made sure not to do anything to un-original. Most of my fics are based on something I like, in this case, Eragon, Lord of the Rings, Steampunk, and Warhammer.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Well, due to a moment of mind-numbing stupidity, I have to push the update to tomorrow. I was 90% finished, and then pressed "X" when I was trying to press "Minimize", and lost 40 minutes of typing.

Curse you, Microsoft! Curse You!
-Dirge


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

FOUR WINDS
------------

The walls of Icefang Keep had been built by an ambitious Questing Knight during the Errantry Wars' first year. The man, Conrad Flint, had been helped in his design by Nathaniel Flint, his brother. The men would later become the first Lord Icefang and the first Lord Clockwork. Zacharias, however, had broken the trend of two lords, becoming the first Lord Clockwork Icefang. The new ruler had asked Althalos' opinion before the battle, and Althalos had recommended they hold the Chaos host at the First Wall, just outside the gates.

Althalos shivered. The man next to him, a Sharpshooter named Daniels, handed him a warm waterskin. A rythmic pounding and crashing of armor told him the Chaos army was massing less then a hundred feet from the wall. The First Wall was made of stone, reinforced with metal bands. Nearly fourty feet high, Icefang soared above it like a man dwarfs an insect. A heavy gatling gun was heaved onto the wall to Althalos' left, while Daniels rested the bipod of his long rifle on the parapet. 

"Gotta tell ya, lord, there's no finer rifle in the North then Kaeti here." said Daniels. He tilted the weapon so the word _Kaeti_ was visible, scratched into the wooden stock. The man flipped a pair of magnifying goggles into place, and gazed down the thick sights of his weapon.

"Ah..there's a good shot." he said.

"At this range, with that many, how could you possibly miss?" asked Althalos, who had his pistol drawn.

"I'm not looking to hit, Drakonire. I'm looking to kill someone important with one shot..."

A black-armored Warrior covered in leering silver demon skulls reared up from the mass of his army. The host stopped fifty feet from the wall.

"Steady!" came a shout down the line.

"Sometimes the Hosts simply seek to intimidate us. If this is one of those times, they'll just leave." explained Daniels.

"And if they don't?"

"Then they're just lining up to charge."

"Comforting."

The crew of the gatling weapon began to turn the crank on their charge, spooling up the barrels to fire. A single Warrior stepped from the Chaos line at a shrieking command from the general.

"By the order of Lord Kuriamal, you will lay down your weapons! My lord scents magic hereabouts, and you will give us the source!"

Sydney leaned down to Althalos. The First Wall was twenty feet thick, which gave the black dragon scare room, but room enough, to stand upon.

_He means you and I, I believe.

Or the orrey.

The orrey is silent, little one._

Althalos nodded and swallowed, hard. A man with a thick moustache leaned over the wall. 

"Go back to the abyss, creature! We'll have none of your lies here!"

The Warrior shook his head, and made a gesture to the Lord. The black-armored general screeched so loudly Althalos covered his ears, until the shriek left the audible scale with a horrific stinging note. With a thousand voices raised in a scream, the army of Chaos hit the First Wall. Althalos felt the structure twitch under him as five thousand bodies struck the wall. 

"Fire!" yelled a man down the line. Daniels fired once, and Althalos saw the messanger pitch backwards, a gory line drawn through the air as blood fountained from his helm. 

"Ladders!" screamed a man, as a huge Warrior vaulted over the wall with a mace in one hand. The mace swept up, smashing the man's chest and head in. Althalos ducked as a sheet of roaring fire passed over him. The blast caught the Warrior full on, making him turn to melted armor and ash instantly. Sydney closed her jaws.

"Brace the gates!" yelled another soldier, as Althalos saw a ram materialize out of the mass of Chaos. He fired his revolver twice into the army, and leapt from the wall, memorizing the men who had carried the ram. The first two were normal Warriors, the last four were decidedly, not.

The first was a massive brute of a man, clad in blood red armor lined with grinning skulls. He had a massive axe in the hand not holding the ram, and shouted with bloodlust. The second was a horrific creature, it's armor a sickly green. Vile pus and blood dripped from every joint, and boils erupted from rusted cracks in it's mail. The third made Althalos do a double-take. It was armored very lightly, only a few pieces of plate against thin leather straps. It's fanged helmet didn't tell much, but the curves of its body were unmistakably female. The fourth was a silver-armored, lithe creature, it's entire body covered by mirrored armor. It held a fiendish hammer in one hand, and blue runes glowed from it's armor. The ram struck the gates, blasting them open as the demonic magic in the ram did it's work. The two black-armored Warriors fell to either side, and the four individuals sprinted into the rear of the wall, engaging a block of spearmen. Althalos dove into their midst, deflecting a strike from the red-armored man before throwing a knife into the back of the Slaaneshi. The creature moaned and leapt backward, throwing Althalos to the ground. The spearmen broke, and Sydney smashed down onto the ground. The silver-armored man's hand shot up, and a ring of multicolored flame sprouted around the five. The black-armored general stepped through the fire, but as Althalos attempted to pass, the fire pushed him backwards.

"And who is this?" said the Lord.

"The Drakonire, lord. Unless I miss my guess." said the Tzeentchian. 

"And the dragon?"

"Outside the Circle, lord. It will not interfere."

"How long can you sustain this?"

"Until I am dead, lordship."

"Excellent."

The Lord stepped forward, beckoning the blood-red warrior to his side.

"You get the first chance. Then Hahka, Seraph, and Asdrubal. The one who slays the Drakonire will recieve his dragon."

Althalos' eyes widened. "You'll get no such thing, creature. If I die, she dies."

"Well, then I'm glad I brought a Necromancer with my host."

The blood armored man charged as Althalos drew Vrolmgang. The sword flew up, deflecting a poorly-aimed swing. The man howled and swung again, this time at Althalos' legs. The half-elven leapt above it and stabbed the man through his chest. Expecting the fight to be over, Althalos ducked with a shout as the axe came around again. He shot forward, placing his hand over the Khornate's chest. A burst of Death magic blew the man into charred bone, and the sickly warrior stepped forward, brandishing a mace that dripped greenish ooze. Althalos pulled out his revolver, and sprang backwards, putting a bullet into the thing's knee. The Nurgle worshipper hissed and drew back the mace, smashing Althalos aside. He blessed the forsight of Vaul to make the armor magically imbued. The mortal weapon would do little unless he was hit in the armor's joints. The man lifted Althalos and tossed him, slamming him into the force wall of the Circle. As the man jumped to smash Althalos' skull in with his mace, Althalos simply held out a hand. The man smashed into his gauntleted fist, and the blade Lukas Shadowlight, an assassin and friend of Althalos had given him, shot out of his glove, spearing the creature. Althalos hacked it's head off with a sweep of Vrolmgang, and bounded to meet the Slaaneshi in the center of the Circle.

The creature's scent took him off guard. A nauseatingly perfect aroma, that threatened to leave him standing dumbly in front of the thing. Haze chittered in his ear and his mind cleared. The thing's sword flashed, pinning Vrolmgang against the ground. It bent forward and kissed Althalos on the cloth mask over his mouth. 

"Age before beauty, love." it hissed, before drawing back the blade. Althalos kicked it, sending the feminine warrior flying backwards. He drew his pistol and put a shot through it's helm, pitching it's head back. The creature giggled and came at him again, so he shot it through the knees this time. As it fell, Althalos planted a boot on it's neck, and pressed, snapping it.

Asdrubal, the Tzeentchian, leapt forward, punching Althalos with a spiked gauntlet. He swept into Althalos as he fell, impaling the half-elven on two spikes of his armor. Althalos gasped for a moment, before Haze took advantage of the moment to mend the wound with Life magic. Althalos thanked his stars before throwing Vrolgmang up to meet Asdrubal's glowing hammer. The runes on both weapons glowed, doubtless each was a magic-destroying spell. Haze growled and slithered into the Tzeentchian's weapon. The runes changed from a cold blue to a warm orange. Asdrubal gasped in horror before the weapon detonated, throwing both combatants into the walls of the Circle. Haze flew out of the weapon's shards in a dozen drops, congealing into a whole before slicking up Althalos' leg and back into Vrolmgang. Asdrubal looked at the shattered hilt of his hammer, and clapped.

"That's quite a weapon." he said. Althalos responded by shooting the Tzeentchian through the chest, sending a beam of light out of the hole. The beam touched Althaos' shoulder, melting a perfect semicircle out of his armor. He leapt to the side, firing into the warrior. More beams crisscrossed the Circle, giving Althalos three more singed holes taken out of his armor and flesh. Asdrubal reached forward, and Althalos stabbed the sorcerer through his visor.

A devastating blast of light vaporized the ground Althalos stood on, and blasted Asdrubal into a thousand shards. The Circle vanished, and the general stood up, looking at Althalos' battered frame.

"Excellent strike, Drakonire. I will spare you this once, reward for besting my Chosen. But never again."

He walked back into the mass of his army, and Daniels helped Althalos up, letting the armored half-elven rest on his shoulder.

"We can't hold them here! shouted Daniels. "They're letting us through the Gates now! Come on!"

Sydney was standing at the Gate, letting Icefang's soldiery past, and occasionally spitting globules of fire at group of Marauders that were circling the portal.

Althalos and Daniels stepped across the threshold, followed by Sydney. The gates swung close, and the noise stopped.

"What now?" asked Althalos, wincing at the pain of his wounds.

Zacharias stood at the Gates along with two dozen Royal Guard.

"We fight." he said.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Brilliant, the imagery is amazing. Your descriptions are perfect, I'm able to tell what each one is without you even naming it! More I say, More!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks OXC, and everyone else who's posted feedback!
-----------------------------------------------------

THE STORM
-----------

Sydney lowered her head, picking a massive brace up from the ground. She held it in place while two men in heavy coveralls pounded bolts through the edges. Two dozen paces from the Gates, the barricade was taking shape. A gatling mount was placed on the heavy beam, and Sydney let the beam go. It groaned, but stayed where the engineers had her hold it.

Althalos cleaned the sticky blood off of Vrolmgang's blade, wincing as the pain of his wounds stung him. He had refused, much to Sydney's disgust, to heal them, in case he needed the strength later. The weapon had a layer of stringy ooze stuck to it, remains of the Marauders that had broken the gate's lower doors. The main gates of Icefang were huge, but a set of smaller gates were set into the larger ones, for mundane entrances and exits, or for transferring supplies. These hung open, a ram laying below a pile of dead Marauders.

The attacks had stopped for the night, and small cooking fires popped into existance all around the barricade. Soldiers slumped over where they sat, trying to gain a few precious moments' sleep. Estimates from the Logisticians at the Clockwork Temple indicated that the Chaos Host was losing numbers faster then they could be replaced, on the order of hundreds per attack. Icefang's soldiery were whittling them down as they retreated. 

Daniels knelt next to Althalos, loading bullets into the curious drum clip Althalos had asked him about. The sharpshooter was laying against a piece of a statue taken out during the last attack. A Hellcannon had been rolled through the gates, and fired into a building, shattering it into perfect cover for Icefang's men. The same Hellcannon was smoldering between the broken gates.

"Seeing some movement." said a swordsman near Althalos. He had a spyglass placed against the wall, and was staring through it at shadows flitting around the gates.

"There!" shouted a man, pointing. Chaos Warriors surrounded by Marauders poured over the wreckage, howling battelcries. Icefang's soldiery threw pikes over the short wall, and fired into the mass. The first ranks of the charge were scythed down, then trampled under the host of men. The men smashed into the barricade, impaling a hundred of their number on the pikes hung over the edge. Warriors howled and threw themselves over the defenses, killing dozens of Icefang's men. Althalos dove to the side as a Warrior hurled himself over the wall, spearing a man. The half-elven drove Vrolmgang through the man's gorget, then slashed the legs out from another. Sydney speared her head downwards, crushing a third with razor fangs. Her mouth opened, and a plume of fire consumed a horde of Marauders that were attempting to scale the barricade.

A man with a dozen horns extending from his head dove over the barricade, slashing at Althalos' armor. A hard grating noise sounded as the blade rebounded off the Dragon Armor.

"Drive them back!" shouted a man. Althalos drew back his arm and threw a ball of Death magic across the barricade, turning a half-dozen men into charred skeletons. Daniels fired over a parapet of bodies, blasting a hole the size of Althalos' fist into a Warrior's helmet. 

"For Khorne!" screamed a Warrior in gore-smeared armor. Althalos ducked a rabid swing of the man's barbed axe. Vrolmgang stabbed through the man's thigh, drawing a howl of rage. The man stumbled backwards, blood pouring from the wound, and Althalos stabbed him again, though his armored breastplate. The warrior tumbled backwards in a spray of black gore, and Althalos ran backwards, joining the Icefang retreat. Chaos Warriors charged through the gates, and began to burn the perimeter buildings of Icefang. The people fled to the Citadel, easily visible as the tallest building, and Zacharias' new home. The keep had been fortified for days, and now boasted the most guns per floor of any building in the North. Cannons by the dozen opened fire as the last of Icefang's citizens ran through the gate, and the Chaos forces began to die.

"We can't keep falling back!" said Althalos, as he and Sydney fell to the floor. She panted hard, gritting her teeth, and Althalos pulled a thin spear from her side. She sighed and licked his face.

"We won't." said Zacharias. The lord was spattered with soot and blood, his armor was chipped and blackened. 

"What do you propose?!" Althalos raged. "We've been fighting for two days now, killed thousands of these creatures, and with what to show for it?!"

Zacharias tore his helmet off, flinging it to the side. 

"Damnation, boy! This isn't as easy as swinging you sword," he looked at Sydney, "Or killing your enemies! This is a seige! We have to hold on, no matter what!"

Althalos stood up from where he was sitting against Sydney. 

"Every day, they fight their way deeper into the city! We're in the Citadel now! This is as far as we go! There is no retreat!"

Zacharias drew his sword. A Royal Guard with a suspiciously familiar white crest stepped between the two. Althalos' eyes widened as he realized it was Severus' chief Guard, the man he had spared during the coup. 

"Lords, we cannot come to blows! As you both said, each day the Great Enemy grows closer! Light the beacons!"

Althalos looked at the man. 

"The beacons?! Explain!"

"L-Lord Uther had a ring, it created a magical beacon, linked to Aeyri Peak! He said if we ever needed help, to put the ring in a special spot in the orrey room. He said Aurum, that great golden dragon, would come to our aid!"

Zacharias whipped around to another guard. "Is this true?"

"Yes, lord, but the generator is offline, it has been since the orrey malfunctioned! If we could start the backup, it would start the beacon!"

"What does the backup run on?" asked Althalos.

"Magic," said the guard, "But all the sorcerers are still throughout the city! We'd never-"

_I can run it, for a time._ said Sydney, stopping the conversation.

Althalos switched to the mind-speech he and Sydney shared.

_You cannot. You're wounded.

And many more will die if I do nothing.

I can't let you. 

You can't stop me.

Please...

Let me do this. I will not fail._

Althalos pulled his own helm off, cradling it in his arms. 

"Hold this level at all costs. We go to the orrey room."


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

ooh, the tension! knife please.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks! After this I've already got an idea for my next one, a 40k themed story called _409_.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

HOLDOUT
---------

Daniels closed his eyes.

The doors were pounding. A mass of over two hundred Marauders led by a Slaaneshi Chosen had brought up another ram, and were attempting to break the door down. Archer slits allowed the Sharpshooters on the second floor to fire down on the warriors, but the fact remained that the more noise they created, the more soldiers were drawn by the fighting. Ninety percent of the living soldiers and citizens of Icefang were holding out from the Icefang Citadel in the center of the city. The remainder were spread out among other buildings, a large contingent of Sharpshooters and Shotgunners holding the South Guard Tower. Althalos and Sydney rode the magical lift up to the Beacon at the tip of the tower, over six hundred feet above the Wastes, and two hundred over the stone and metal roof of Icefang Keep. 

Sydney stepped off the lift first, limping slightly as the spear wound in her side twinged. Althalos followed, cradling his helmet in one hand. A ragged cloak was draped over his armor, protection from the drafts through the slit windows. He looked on with a disguised fear, hoping the magic wouldn't kill Sydney.

Three Royal Guard closed the doors, and spread out, pikes held at the ready. Althalos pulled a bench down and barricaded the entrance, letting two of the Guards hold the lift. Sydney stopped before the inert stone globe of the Beacon, breathing hard. The wounds in her sides and wings throbbed with pain. Althalos ground his teeth as the pain reverberated along their mental link.

He nodded to her, and she reached out, touching the stone with the tip of her snout. 

_I..I'm not certain how to activate it._ she said. Althalos removed the ring from his finger, and looked at the globe. A warm glow spread across the globe from Sydney's snout, and the globe absorbed the energy. She shuddered with fatigue as the magic drained away her strength. Althalos placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a measure of his own energy. The glow increased in volume, making the entire chamber shiver as the magical energy flowed into the Icefang Citadel's intricate matrices. A wisp of air moved through the room, quickly turning into a gale force of flying stone chips and ice. Althalos ducked behind Sydney's leg, feeling larger shards of ice slash her thin wing membranes. She gasped in pain, but remained where she was. The Royal Guard stood in awe, staring at the fingers of warm energy shifting across the chamber.

A scraping, grating noise alerted Althalos. The doors shook, and then imploded. The two Royal Guard he had left with the elevator tumbled into the room, dozens of slash wounds over their bodies. Althalos dove toward the door, coming up to meet a dozen Marauders and a huge Warrior in white armor. The first Marauder came through the door, then pitched back as Althalos shot him through the head. The Warrior bashed his charges out of the way, spearing the first Royal Guard through the chest. Blood erupted from the man's mouth, and the Warrior tossed him aside. Althalos glanced at Sydney, still desperately trying to power the Beacon, and leapt to meet the Warrior head-on. Vrolmgang smacked into the flat of the Warrior's sword, throwing the big man off-balance. The Royal Guards still standing charged after the Marauders, killing three even as Althalos battled the Warrior in the lift room. He batted the man's weapon aside, and slashed the Warrior's legs out from under him. A spatter of blood burst from the slits in the man's helm, misting in the air. Althalos fired a shot into his helmet, ending him. The Royal Guard stabbed the last Marauder through the neck, and Althalos walked back into the room.

"Watch the lift. There may be more." he said. The Guards nodded and stomped out to the lift room. Althalos took the ring from his pocket and stared at the globe again, searching for an opening. Sydney twitched as if stung, and a cylinder of stone rose from the floor, a depression matching Uther's ring set into it's surface. Althalos breathed in, and placed the ring into the stone. Sydney gasped and collapsed to the floor, panting. The glow around the room was sucked into the stone globe, and down into the floor.

"It didn't work..." began Althalos. Sydney looked up from her place on the ground, and blinked. As the pair looked, a single, shockingly bright spire of light shot upwards from the globe, penetrating the Citadel's roof. The beam grew, soon becoming ten feet in diameter. The color changed from a neutral white to a warm orange, and the world went white.

Just as Althalos' vision cleared, he remembered what Uther had told him, many weeks previously.

"Use this at dawn on the third day. At dusk, look south." he had said.

Althalos looked at the windows. The sun was just glinting over the horizon. Dawn, on the third day.

Sydney's breathing evened, and Althalos placed his hand on her side, shaking his head.

"And you say I'm reckless."

_Yes....but...when I'm....reckless...it...works._

Her eyes closed, and Althalos turned to the doors, sitting against her side.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Good chapter, short and to the point. Great filler between the main events. Very well written as usual!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks! After a quick break, here's Chapter 10!
---------------------------------------------

ARRIVAL
--------

Althalos shivered. The Beacon was draining all the Citadel's power, making the air inside colder as all the vents to the furnace closed. The Icefang Guard had set up braziers along the walls, but they did little more then blunt the cold. He stood next to Zacharias in the central chamber, facing the doors. Guards had barricaded the entrance with stout timbers, but no one imagined they would hold the Chaos armies for more then an hour. 

"How many are left, do you think?" asked Daniels, striding down the line.

"Nine hundred." said Zacharias. "Probably less. Given the casualties they've taken."

"Easy pickings, then?"

"Not exactly. Marauders and Warriors are resilient. They have "Dead" and "Living". No "Wounded."

A smashing noise made everyone on the barricade stand up. The cannons on the second floor opened fire with a tremendous roar.

A second noise, similar to the first, sounded. The door shook.

Althalos loosened Vrolmgang in it's scabbard. Sydney was still upstairs, recuperating from the trauma of powering the Beacon. His pistol felt warm in the grip of his gloved hand.

The door shook again, and splintered at the edges. A leering, demonic face smashed through the wood on the fourth try.

"Guns at the ready!" yelled Zacharias. Weapons of every type settled onto the barricade, ready to scythe down the Chaos infantry.

The fifth try shattered the gate, and a ram crushed the remnants. Chaos Marauders poured over the wreckage. Zacharias raised a hand, and two hundred guns fired at once, killing the majority of the warriors entering the Citadel. The first rank fell back to reload, and the second stepped forward.

"Second wave, get ready!" yelled Zacharias. A mass of Chaos Warriors, their shields up, stormed over the dead Marauders. More gunfire rang out, and more then half dropped. The remainder got to the barricade unscathed, and Icefang's soldiery began to die. 

Althalos jumped over a dying man, stabbing his murdered through the back. The Warrior screeched and didn't die quickly, so Althalos swung the sword around, lopping the man's head neatly off. A second Warrior barreled into him, throwing himself and two of Icefang's men to the ground. The first soldier died as a spiked fist stove his head in. The second was gutted by a bladed shield. Althalos rolled as a boot came down, drawing his dagger and stabbing the man through his ankle. The Warrior fell, and Althalos picked up Vrolmgang, stabbing him through the chest.

"Third wave! This is it!" screamed a man. The last wave of Chaos Warriors stormed into the Citadel. These were black-suited horrors, each with a uniquely crafted helm and weapons. The black-armored General Althalos had seen before led them, screeching commands.

The general and his followers absorbed the volleys of rounds put forward by the soldiers, losing only five of their number. Althalos counted at least thirty Chosen remaining, as well as the General himself. He put a shot into a man's visor, seeing the warrior pitch backwards in a heap. Vrolmgang sliced through another Chosen's weapon, embedding itself in his neck. Death magic swirled around him, striking a Chosen in the back. His armor rotted away in seconds, leaving him open to a strike from a Royal Guard with a halberd. Zacharias was surrounded by his Royal Guardsmen, yelling encouragement to the few remaining Icefang soldiers. The battle was already decided; the Chosen did not have the numbers left to challenge Icefang, but their sheer power threatened to kill many more of the soldiers. The general was a black shade, flitting from man to man, killing everything. A gatling crew fired a dozen shots into him, turning his right arm and side into pulp. The weapon in his left hand flashed, blasting both men into the air.

Althalos dove to the side, evading a strike from a Warrior. The man's second blow landed deep into his thigh, making him yell in pain. A bolt of Death magic smote the man in the chest, and he fell, a black hole rotted right through him. The wound throbbed in Althalos' leg, and he stumbled, being caught by Daniels. 

"Got to stand up, lord. Can't have you falling in front of the men." he grunted, trying to support the armored warrior. 

Althalos gritted his teeth and lurched up, his grip tightening to the point of pain on his sword. Haze sensed the hesitation and brought up Vrolmgang in a sweeping motion, disemboweling a Warrior about to strike Daniels. A beam of light shot through the battlefield, making Althalos dive for cover, remembering Asdrubal's magical wounds. Daniels hauled him upright.

"It's only the starlight, lord. It shines like that at dawn and dusk."

"Dusk?" asked Althalos.

"Yessir. About a minute ago-" he stopped.

A horn sounded outside, making all of the assembled warriors stop fighting, and look up.

A massive, grey-on-red shade flew down through the starlight in the Citadel's roof and crushed the General. Roaring flames burst from it's mouth, cooking a dozen more of the Chosen. Three more shapes, a riot of colors, flashed into the room, and the doors parted again as hundred of infantry stormed in, a banner bearing the golden dragon flying proudly above them.

_It's the army of the Peaks._ said Sydney, _They've come._

More horns signaled outside, making the last two Chosen run for the doors. A brace of black-armored Draconians met them as they passed through the gates, and the two warriors fell, a score of wounds on each of them.

Vaul rose from the squashed remains of the Chaos Lord, licking his claws. 

_You always seem to need rescuing, pup._ he snickered.

_Lies and slander, drake. But I thank you for your help.

As you should. Where is your dragon?

Above. She powered the Beacon to call you._

Vaul snorted and looked at the other three Dragons in the Citadel. Mirror, Corvus, and Baldur all stood around the room, looking over the smoldering piles of dead.

_Is she alright?_ asked Corvus, instantly concerned.

_She's fine. Just resting.

Good. Thank you._

He took off, heading toward the spire where the Beacon was located. A draconian in black armor with gold filgree worked into it approached with a scroll.

"Drakonire. We honor the call of Icefang Keep, but we did not expect to find you here." it said.

"The honor is all mine. Thank you for the help." said Althalos.

"Not a problem. Our units are clearing the last of the scum from the streets. We would stay here, if it's no trouble."

Zacharias walked up to the Draconian. "No trouble at all, warrior. We'd gladly aid our brethren of the Peaks."

A second unit of Draconians walked into the throne room, carrying a massive golden statue. Althalos started as Aurum was placed in the room, held upright by his Draconians.

_Drakonire. It is good you are here. The Empire's sorcerers finally devised a way past my Shield. We were forced to flee.

What of the Peak?

We destroyed it. Karl Franz believes it to be no more then dust and ash.

And the Whispering Caves? The treasure?

Erengr and Adurna are looking after it, deep in Athel Loren. I have many friends among the Wood Elves. They will not harm it._

Aurum's eyes dimmed and the Draconians carried him deeper into the Citadel. Zacharias removed him helm, looking at the dented metal.

"This is good. Aurum's armies will replace lost men, and his citizens will provide new producers of goods. If he has spellcasters, perhaps we could fix the orrey."

Althalos watched the room as men stacked dead Marauders, and he felt Sydney's happiness at seeing Corvus again. The two dragons spoke quietly, too quietly for Althalos to eavesdrop via the link between himself and Sydney. 

He looked at Vrolmgang, covered in multicolored gore, and sat down atop a dead Chosen, cleaning the blade.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Do you ever lower your standards, I mean honestly, how do you write like this ALL THE TIME! More brilliant work Dirge, I await the next chapter with anticipation


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thank you. It's nice to have somebody who religiously posts feedback.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

DRAKONIRE
-----------

The rebuilding of Icefang would take four weeks, four weeks of intensive work and sleepless nights. The people whose homes had been destroyed were allowed to stay in the Citadel, until their residences were rebuilt. Althalos and Sydney helped often, pausing only when everyone else did. The feast hall was rebuilt on the last day, and a grand party was held to mark the occasion.

"Victory!" screamed a Royal Guard, lifting a stein into the air. The crowds roared approval. Roasted pork and lamb drifted around the room, followed by a flotilla of cheeses, fruit, breads, and beer. Althalos lay against Sydney in the corner of the Hall, eating a leg of mutton with one hand. Daniels was sitting against a keg opposite him. The sharpshooter's weapon had a loop of leather tied around it's breech, and a small can of oils was taped to the stock. Daniels grabbed a hunk of cheese off the nearest plate. 

"Good." he said, muffled by the amount of food in his mouth.

"Mm-hm." agreed Althalos. Sydney had a roast boar between her claws, worrying at it with her teeth. The noise was drowned out by the music being played throughout the hall. Men laughed and clashed steins of beer and ale. The brewer nodded to Althalos as he passed, a massive keg on each shoulder. The man looked tired, but pleased. No doubt he was making more tonight then he dreamed of making in a month. Sydney stopped eating long enough to pick one of the barrels off his shoulder, downing the beer in one gulp. The barrel smashed against the floor, and Althalos pulled a handful of coins from his pocket. 

A sword came down on his hand.

"Not tonight." said Zacharias. He pulled a large golden coin from his robes and pressed it into the brewer's hand. The man nodded thanks and turned to another table.

"I'm paying for you, and her." he said.

"Thank you." said Althalos, "But you may regret that decision later."

Zacharias laughed. "I might. But leave that for tomorrow. Eat, drink, enjoy. You've made this possible for all of us."

Sydney snagged the second barrel from the brewer. Zacharias handed the man a second coin.

"Well, I have to be off, the Lords are gathering in the midst of all this." the Lord mumbled. Althalos toasted him with the mug and Zacharias swept out of the hall.

Sydney returned to her boar when she looked bolt upright, moving her head slowly across the crowd.

_Your old friend, little one._ she said.

Althalos started as a black-clad figure dropped from the ceiling and grabbed a second leg of mutton off his plate. Lukas flopped down next to him, removing his mask just enough to eat.

"You're getting sloppy, dragon. I was but twenty paces that time." he said. 

_Excuse me. I have other things to think about._

Lukas nodded. "I'm sure you do. Drakonire! It's good to see you again!"

Althalos took the man's proffered hand in an extended handshake.

"And how have you been in my absence?" asked the assassin. He still wore the black robes of his order, along with thick, smoked goggles and a scarf tied around his nose and mouth. Not a scrap of flesh was visable on him. Althalos realized the cold here must be tough on the man, Araby being so warm.

"Fine. I've killed a traitor, repelled an invasion, and brought all of the Peaks here, in only two months!"

"Sounds like you've been busy." said Lukas. "Pity I missed it."

"You didn't arrive here with the army?"

"No. I came here shortly after the battle was concluded. My novices informed me of conflict."

"Like moths to a flame."

"Close enough."

Lukas tossed away the bone and reached to grab a loaf of bread and a small keg of butter. The assassin talked while he ate.

"So, Corvus was informing me that-"

_He is going to stay here. With the army._ Sydney cut him off, throwing a glare at the assassin. Lukas licked his lips and turned back to the bread.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" asked Althalos. Sydney snorted.

_There are many things I don't tell you, little one. For your own good._

"Very well." He conceded. 

She glared at Lukas again, then returned to the roasted boar between her talons.

Daniels held out his hand. Lukas took it in the same extended handshake he had given Althalos.

"Robart Daniels, Sharpshooter." he said.

"Lukas Shadowlight, Assassin." replied Lukas. 

The two nodded at each other and resumed eating. A table near the group began a rough drinking song, and Daniels joined in. Lukas began to mumble a flutey, light song, evidently something from Araby, as even Sydney couldn't decipher the assassin's words. Lukas' novices, a group of white-clad soldiers, joined in with the men, singing loudest of all. More food and drinks were given out, and even Althalos joined in the song.

Later that night, the pair returned to the two-story house Zacharias had led them to, many weeks before. It was rebuilt completely, even upgraded. The bottom floor was now fireproof, as well as the starwell. The hole in the side of the second floor was remodeled, perfect for Sydney's figure. It had been expanded, the second floor was now fully three times the size of the bottom floor, covering both alleys on either side of it. A smokestack let a cheerful plume of wood smoke into the evening air. Althalos climbed the stairs, Sydney leaping into the room through the large opening. He practically fell into his bed, and noted with sleepy interest that the engineers rebuilding the house had left a second part of the floor covered in cloths, like the ones Sydney slept on.

He pondered this as he finally fell asleep.


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Is this the end?... If it is... An outstanding work Dirge... Hehehehe.... If it's not... MORE!!!!!.... Hehehe...:good:


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Trust me it aint, and theres some seriously cool stuff to come. Great work Dirge. I await the next chapter with anticipation.


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## Master Andael (Jan 18, 2008)

As always great work Dirge.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

SHADOW'S FALL
----------------

Althalos stood in light armor, simply the chainmail that Vaul had made him under a leather travelling curaiss. The cloak of scales hung off his shoulders, skipping off the uneven marble tiles. Sydney had elected to remain at the house, citing the stab wounds she had from the seige. He visited the tanner, needing extra sloops of leather for the saddle. He attempted to pay the man, and when he refused, Althalos tossed the coins onto the floor of the tannery and sprinted down the street, faster then the man could follow. He stopped around the corner, and brushed the marble dust off the straps. Slinging them over his shoulder, he continued down the street, noting the colorful new signs built by the guilds of artisans. A faded, blackened mural was painted onto the marble bricks by some long-dead artist. A hooded statue stood to the side of it, holding a hammer in each hand. Long stone robes fell to the floor.

"The Shadow." said a voice. Althalos whipped around. A person stood in the doorway, draped in brown robes. A heavy metal chain with a black stone hammer hung around his neck.

"Legend has it that the Shadow, or Ireius Daniels, was the first warrior of Icefang. He arrived out of the Wastes, atop a great dragon. He held back the tides of Chaos for many an age."

"A dragon?"

"Yes. Not unlike yourself, Wayfarer. He fought at the Gates for six days and seven nights. On the first hour of the seventh day, he was struck down by a Warrior of Chaos Undivided. His dragon, Ithradir, vanished into the south, near the mountains by Telthis and Nuln. They say he was a great black, like yours."

Althalos looked back to the mural. It depicted a hooded warrior, standing atop a pile of dead Warriors, a hammer in each hand. A dragon stood behind him, fangs bared. A tide of Marauders stormed up the pile from all sides.

"It's beautiful." said Althalos, admiring the mural.

"It is." agreed the man. His eyes flashed beneath the hood. "He had a nickname, but few remember what it was. It was apparently Tzerachin for "Black". Not many people know the language, now, of course. It's one of the foul Chaos tongues. Now, lad, best be on your way."

Althalos nodded and continued down the market street, purchasing more food, as well as extra buckles and rivits, and other things he couldn't make for himself. He slung all his items over the same shoulder as the leather straps. His mind strayed to the straps, then Sydney's expanding figure, to the ancient Tzerachin language his mentor had taught him. Black. Black meant...

He stopped suddenly as a dozen things instantly made sense.

_Corvus. Black. Ithradir. Daniels._

_Sydney._

His eyes opened, and two words escaped from his mouth.

"No way."


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Haha, simply awesome Dirge. I wonder if anyone else will pick up the hint.


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Another brilliant work... Amazing cliffhanger... Hint about what?....


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Ah, now THAT would be telling. I'll update either today or tomorrow.

Cheers!
-Dirge


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## Master Andael (Jan 18, 2008)

Really nice Dirge I look forward to reading the next part.)


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

HURRY with the next chapter cause I'm hooked already... Hehehe...


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

_A PSLAM EVERY DAY_
---------------------

Althalos walked into the house. Sydney was against the wall, sleeping. There was a pronounced bulge just above her two rear legs.

He tapped her leg with the end of Vrolmgang's scabbard. Her eyes fluttered open.

_You've got some explaining to do.

Damn.

Did you think I wouldn't find out?

I hoped you would find out_ after _we settled down.

Not with this._

Althalos scratched the bump in her belly. She breathed in sharply, tickled.

_It was Corvus. After Telthis, before we left._ she explained.

_I guessed as much. You know how old he is, right?

Excuse me?

His name is Ithradir. He was alive during the Errantry Wars' first years.

Ha! Ithradir is his great grandfather. His descendants are named in different Tzerachin dialects. The one you know translates as Corvus.

So he is how old?

Twenty-seven.

Well, that's something._

She leaned up, careful not to lie flat on her stomach. Althalos patted her shoulder. 

_I'm happy for you.

Thank you, little one._

She licked Althalos' face, making him smile. Corvus swooped down from the air above the roof, landing next to Sydney.

_So you've discovered our little secret._ said the drake, turning his head to look at Althalos. 

_I have._ he turned to Sydney. _Stay out of fighting for now. Take it easy._

She snorted ash over the floor. _This is why I tried to keep it a secret. I'm going to continue doing what I do best, little one. Keep you alive._

A man in red-tinged medicae robes walked up the stairs, starting at the sight of Althalos. Corvus looked at him and nodded.

_I think I'll go._ remarked Althalos. Sydney nuzzled him, ruffling his hair with her breath. Althalos nodded to the medicae, and stepped out the front door. He felt Sydney withdraw from his thoughts, leaving him only the basest idea of her own emotions and feelings. The sudden feeling of seperation stung him quietly, but he bit his lower lip, and continued. He walked along the sidewalk quietly, his cloak wrapped around him. The wind swept through the ventilation holes in the sides of the Keep, bringing with it a light powder of snow. Flakes built up on his shoulders. Althalos ducked through the door of an apothecary shop, a jar of pickled newts glinting off the reflected light.

He looked through the shop, selecting a bunch of herbs that served well as a healing paste. The healer looked up from a fat book of medicines as Althalos handed her a few bronze coins.

"Ah, thank you, Drakonire." she said, looking through the herbs before pocketing the coins.

"Wolfsbane, Oprihaln, Darrowsfoil, and Fireweed. Healing a Dragon?"

"My own."

"Ah, excellent. Be sure to cut off the Darrowsfoil roots. They're not good for the eggs."

"Did everyone know but me?"

"Haha! No, Drakonire! A veterinary who keeps his office here is taking care of her, and the egg."

Althalos thanked the woman and left. He felt a cool sensation as Sydney flowed across their link again, making him smile instinctively. Althalos turned and began to walk back to the house, when a Royal Guard swept out of a guardpost down the street. 

"Lord, Zacharias needs your advice."

Althalos started. He tied the bag of herbs to his belt and followed the man down the block, through the doors of the Citadel. Zacharias waited at the foot of the magical elevator, speaking in soft tones to a Priest of Sigmar. The priest turned as Althalos approached.

"Ah, my young lord. The Empire has heard of your deeds." he said. Althalos nodded. The man held out a hand with a fat ring on it, expecting Althalos to kiss the hammer-shaped ring.

"Fine workmanship." said the half-elven, turning the ring from side to side.

The priest's face soured and he snatched his hand back from Althalos, who simply grinned. Zacharias smiled lightly, but hid it as soon as the priest turned back to the Lord Icefang. 

"My skyship is still docked above. I would like lodging and food for the crew, and supplies."

Zacharias nodded. "Do you have something to trade?"

The priest started. "I am a High Priest of Sigmar. The Church is granted it's needs."

"Let me be frank, _High_ Priest. The Church has only sixty members in Icefang, out of nearly ten thousand. Plus the newcomers from Aeyri Peaks, we have nearly sixteen thousand citizens, and seven thousand soldiers. The Church isn't very well represented out here."

"Heresy! Sigmar is the leader of all men! You are no exclusion, and neither is this "Drakonire"!"

Althalos raised his hand. The two men glared at him.

"At the risk of sounding a bit petty, I am only half human. Also, the Empire itself only extends to the southern border of the Wastes. You have no power here."

The man's mouth twisted into a fierce frown. "Heretic! You and that rabble from the Peaks!"

Sydney's voice echoed through his head.

_Get back here, now._

He shook off her influence and pushed past the Priest, heading for the door.

"Get back here, blasphemer! You will come with me!" howled the Priest, grabbing him by his cloak. Sydney's thoughts suddenly blazed with pain, and through Althalos, rage.

His temper snapped like dry wood. He whipped around, knocking away the Priest's hands.

"I will not. I will walk out of here, and go to Sydney. You have _no idea_ what is going on, and your only clue is based on the fact that you have the entire Empire wrapped up in your _delusion_. Go back to your little ship. I'm sure the masses are woefully lacking without your _expert_ care, _High Preist_." he snarled. Zacharias placed a hand between the two.

"Althalos, go. The Guard's informed me of your...appointment." he turned to the Priest. "And you, you and your men can stay in the Temple with Julius. I'll send what I can to _A Psalm Every Day_. Do you have anything to trade?"

The man deflated. "I have sixteen crates of seed, many different types of plants."

"Excellent."

Their words were cut short as Althalos closed the door, heading down the street. He broke into a run as another spike of pain drove through their link. He dove under a wide ingot of metal, being hefted by six men. He turned the corner around the blacksmith's, gritting his teeth as another stab of agony flashed through Sydney. He flung open the door, sprinted up the stairs, pushing the veterinary out of the way, and stood in the room, panting.

Corvus stood over Sydney, his head against hers, as she licked a translucent membrane off of an enlongated object, black as coal and threaded with grey splotches. A flashback came unbidden from his memories.

_He turned around three times, laughing as Valaen let go of his hands, the two boys fell backwards into the soft grass. The forests outside Tor Cassera's walls were a favorite among the elves. Valaen was his best friend, only nine years old, a year older then Althalos himself. As the two got up, still giggling, a gust of wind pushed him over, into a wide depression. He rolled down the bank, into another patch of grass. Valaen looked over the edge.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I think so." said Althalos, getting unsteadily to his feet. As he tried to move toward the edge of the crater-like pit, his foot hit something solid and he tripped. Valaen laid down on the edge and held out a hand. Althalos turned, looking at the edge of a black shape, covered in crusty dirt and greyish splotches. 

"What's that?" he asked, reaching out to it.

"Don't touch it!" warned Valaen. "Father says there's still lots of old stuff from the battles! He said it can hurt you if you don't know how to use it!"

Althalos wasn't having any of it. The object seemed to glisten in the evening light. He dug around it with his hands, exposing an elongated shape with grey splots on the sides. Valaen took his hand and hauled him back over the edge, Althalos still clutching the odd rock-like item with his other hand.

"You'd better put that down." said Valaen. "The guards don't like it when you bring things back. Remember that gross Goblin bone you found?"

"Yeah." said Althalos with a fondness in his voice. The Tor Cassera guard was a group of no-nonsense adults. They couldn't tell when something really special came along, like old Bolt Thrower arrowheads or goblin bones, or a piece of rusted armor, or this new treasure.

Later that night, after he had snuck the object past the Guard's cursory search, he picked it up from the pile of treasures next to his bed. His mother was still sleeping, she wouldn't bother him. He put the thing onto the bed and stared at it. Althalos contemplated it for a time, then reached for the oil lamp on the bedstand. He lit it with a tiny match and moved the object, and just for a second, he could see something inside.

A dragon..._

The present rushed back with a flash, and he threw his arms around Sydney's neck, easing her pain with a measure of his own strength. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she breathed in sharply as Althalos' gear knocked against her stomach, but she hummed as he picked the dragon egg up, cradling it like a newborn child.


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Another great work... Haha... I wonder what will be the name of Sydney's baby dragon... Hahaha.... NEXT CHAPTER!!!!!....


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

HERETIC
--------

Althalos sat down slowly, holding the egg in both hands. 

"This is just like yours." he said quietly, pulling a necklace from his armor. A shard of dull black material hung on a thin chain. He placed the chip of Sydney's own egg against the new one. 

_And it should be._ she said proudly. _A healthy Black dragon's egg._

_I'm happy for you.

Thank you. You've told me. Now, do you have anything else to do? I need some rest.

Of course. See you later.

Yes, you will._

Sydney laid her head down, and after opening one eye to make sure he left, went to sleep.

-----------------------------------------

Norval DeSalle, High Priest of Sigmar, paced the deck of _A Psalm Every Day_. He raged over the insolent child. How _dare_ he question the decision of the church? How could this entire blasted _fiefdom_ think it could exist without Sigmar's divine will? A thought crossed his mind.

_Norval DeSalle, retaker of the North. Lord of Sigmar Keep!_

That's what he would rename this place when it was rightfully returned to the Empire.

He glanced down the ship's flank, at the lines of cannon. The ship was a long sloop, ending at the massive boiler and propeller assemblies that gave the ship it's flight. He turned back to the captain of the _Psalm_, a man with less then half his experience.

"Get the ship airborne. We're going back, and we're going to come back here at the head of an army."

The man nodded and smiled. DeSalle knew he was the right choice. The captain hated dragons with a passion, his entire village was burned to the ground by a particularly loathsome Red. The fact that the entire Aeyri Peaks' worth of dragons had just moved in just sweetened the deal in his eyes. 

_A Psalm Every Day_ lifted off the docks, and chugged south, steam puffing from the stack.

--------------------------------------
THREE DAYS LATER

Althalos walked back up the stairs, carrying a bag of herbs over his shoulder. A kettle simmered in the center of the room, filling it with a smoky arome. Sydney sat in the corner, the egg tightly wrapped up in her tail.

He pulled out a bunch of Sigmar's Glove, a tiny, flowering plant. He crushed the herb between his hands and let in drop into the cauldron, making the smoke turn a light blue color. Sydney breathed in sharply, her scales changing from a deep, reflective black to a dark blue-grey.

"It's working." said Althalos, quickly rummaging around in the bag. He removed a second herb and sliced the roots off with a knife, also dumping them into the pot. He tossed the rest of the plant into a bowl on the table as the smoke turned a greyish green. Sydney breathed out, gasping for air, and her scales returned to their midnight coloring.

_What was that?

Dragon's Bane mixed with Sigmar's Glove. Technically I just poisoned you.

And what did that solve?

Still hurting?

...No.

Exactly. Aserafoil reverses the effects, and doubles as a painkiller when mixed with Glove._

She blinked slowly, the equivalent of a smile, and snaked her neck down to touch her snout against the egg. She snorted, then raised her head back up to look at Althalos packing the remainder of the herbs into a cloth sack, before throwing them into a pantry. Corvus had come and gone several times, each time fawning over Sydney, then the egg. He had been hunting twice as much, bringing back two dead deer the previous night. Sydney had eaten one; Althalos stashed the other in the pantry. Zacharias was as good as his word, however. Every order he sent to the granary of Icefang had been filled quickly, everything from water to deer's hooves to Aserafoil. Sydney had been recovering well, but she still refused to go anywhere without the egg. Althalos had been working on a pouch for it, that fit onto her saddle next to his legs, a place he normally reserved for extra food or water. He resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going back south until the dragon hatched. 

He turned back from the pantry, examining the room. The second floor of the house was basically one room. Sydney had taken over half of it, laying against the wall next to the huge hole that doubled as her door. Animal skins covered the floor, gradually being abraded through by her scales. She habitually lay on her side, a result of Althalos sleeping against her. He decided to forgo the normal pattern until it stopped being painful for her, and had experimented with a pile of skins in the corner near the stairs. The gold-chased revolver sat on the nightstand, where he could pick it up and fire without leaving the "bed". The egg was tightly wound in the coils of her tail, and Sydney regularly snorted a plume of fire onto it, making the tip of the egg glow cherry red. Althalos had originally expressed concern, only to have Sydney regale him with a long tale of how dragons exposed to fire hatched stronger then those grown in cold climates. He had given up after this. 

A knock sounded on the door downstairs. Althalos nodded to Sydney as he passed her, then walked back downstairs, past the tiny fireplace, to open the door. A man in plate mail stood there.

"You know, every time one of you comes to the door, I end up killing someone." said Althalos. The guard grinned.

"Sorry, lord. I have to continue the trend. There's a problem at Icefang Citadel. Something about you being a Heretic. Lord Zacharias wants to see you right away."

Althalos unsheathed Vrolmgang, tested it's edge, then put it back into it's scabbard. Haze warbled and chirped as the sword moved.

"Then we go." he said, following the guard down the street.


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## zboy234 (Dec 29, 2007)

verwell done my friend, look forward to more


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

One word... MORE!!!!... When will the egg hatch?... I'm starting to hate the Empire... Hahaha.. Even though it's the counter-part of the Imperium of Man... No offense to Empire fans...:victory:


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

great work dirge, simply great. More please


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## zboy234 (Dec 29, 2007)

hey honestly they suck....has no terminators......

YEAH DIRGE WE DEMAND MORE!!!!!


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

Brilliant as ever.

I can't wait to see the next one.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

NO PRISONERS, NO MERCY
-------------------------

Zacharias stood in the center of the room, draped in his black cloak and wearing the battered silver helm, still bearing the fresh scars from the seige. He turned as Althalos follwed the guard into the Citadel. 

"Ah, good to see you, my friend. How is Sydney recovering?"

"Good, thank you. You wanted to see me?"

"Ah yes. Apparently that little scuffle with DeSalle put a hurting on him. He's back, at least six ships. Our scouts have just flown back in. We're resupplying now, but could use some Dragons. I've heard that the dragons from the Peaks are still here, could you persuade them to join us?"

"I'd be hard-pressed to keep Vaul and the others out of the fight. I don't know if Sydney and I will be able to fight. If not, I'll take the fight to them from Mirror or Baldur. I'm not going to sit this one out."

Zacharias nodded. "Very well. Get to it, then, Drakonire. We don't have time to tarry!"

Althalos returned the nod and shoved past the doors, sprinting down the side street, turning the corner around the blacksmith's, and up the stairs into his bedroom. Sydney sat against the wall, still cradling the egg in the coils of her tail.

_Well?

That priest is back. He's brought friends this time.

Oh dear. Are we going, then?

Are you fit?

I was fit before you recovered, little one. Do you still have my armor?

As if I'd throw it away._

Althalos pulled the thick set of mail from a trunk in the corner, strapping Sydney into the gear. She twinged a little as he tightened the straps over her belly, and he stopped, concerned. Sydney bade him to continue and he finally laid the curved piece of metal on her head. He strapped on his own armor, then tucked the revolver into his belt. Daniels came up the stairs, cradling his long rifle in both hands. Sydney picked the egg up in her jaws. She dropped it into Daniels' arms.

_Take care of this, sharpshooter. That is more important than your life to me, and it_ does not bounce.

"I know, Darkscales. Be safe."

Sydney flapped her wings once, rising above the small house. Daniels covered his eyes as the downdraft blew papers around. She shot out the side of the house, rapidly rising until she flew upwards through an opened hatch in the Icefang Keep's roof. A dozen small airboats floated up, keeping formation as an ominous line to the south grew through the haze. Vaul, Mirror, and Baldur jumped from the docks, winging alongside the ships. Mirror winked at Althalos and she passed. 

_How's it, sweetheart?

Fine, thanks.

Not you. Syd?

I'm fine. Keep Vaul in check, would you? I don't want him running out into the south and starting a war.

Of course. Can't have_ him _killed_.

The silvery dragon sped away, lining up with the airboats. A man on the lead Empire ship rose to the bow, a massive speaker cone in his hands.

"Soldiers of Icefang Keep! This is Madras Kurg of the _A Psalm Every Day_! You will lay down your weapons, and surrender to the Empire! You will turn over the so-called Drakonire, and any dragons currently residing in the Keep! This is ordered by Lord DeSalle, High Priest of Sigmar!"

A gatling team on the wall, adjacent to where Sydney was perched neatly on the parapet, let out a low chuckle. One of the Keep's ships, a massive black-armored warship, turned to starboard, and fired. Cannonballs the size of Althalos' head smashed into _A Psalm Every Day_. Kurg caught a shell in his midsection, cutting the man neatly in half. The ship began to pour smoke and listed to port. A dozen other ships vaulted to the fore, protecting the _Psalm_ from further damage. The Empire began to fire back, crushing the timbers of the ships. The two sides rapidly closed, the dragons on the Keep's side closing fastest. Vaul dug his claws into the hull of one ship, dragging himself along the bottom, gutting the vessel. Men and cannons fell from the breach, tumbling the several hundred feet to the icy landscape surrounding the Keep. The ship belched debris and smog, and turned over, Vaul letting the wreck go as it spiralled downward. Mirror claimed another, tearing the props from it's rear. The ship cracked horribly as the electrical failed. Men fell as the ship lurched backwards, drawn to it's death by the bent, shredded propellers. Baldur circled the _Psalm_, occasionally breathing the blast of green-tinted fire onto the hull. Men fired back with revolvers and crossbows, but the dragon's armor held perfectly. Sydney dove low, snapping the masts on the leading ship. The black-armored airship that had fired on the _Psalm_ drifted in, firing vengeful salvos into the vessel's sides. A last volley blasted most of the ship's interior out the side facing away from the black ship, and it tumbled away, burning.

Lukas waved from the deck of the black ship, Althalos recognizing the stylized "A" of the Araby warrior's order. 

"No prisoners." said Lukas, shouting to his gun crews.

_No mercy._ agreed Sydney, drawing the pair closer to the _A Psalm Every Day._


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Brilliant again dirge, keep it up!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Well, not doing much today, so you're getting a lucky 2-updates in 2-days run. Don't expect more.
----------------------------------------------------------------------

RESTORATION
--------------

Corvus blasted from the side of the orrey tower, shearing a small sloop in half as he passed. The _Psalm_ saw him coming and lurched hard to port, missing the dragon by mere feet. Sydney bobbed slightly, diving to the deck of a large man-o-war menacing the Icefang fleet. Two dozen ships were already down and burning on the top of Icefang or on the plains nearly a half-mile below. The sloop bent under the armored dragon's weight, Althalos firing a shot into the captain. Sydney blew a plume of fire into the ship's gundecks, and took off, clearing the deck just as the powder magazine detonated in a spectacular eruption. The ship ceased to exist, body parts and shards of wood twirling away from the wisp of black smoke. 

Corvus leapt away from the wall again, hurtling toward the _Psalm_. The ship turned to starboard this time, bringing two dozen cannon to bear. He tried desperately to arrest his momentum, opening his wings to their full extent. The bones fractured as the massive weight of dragon and armor stopped suddenly. Two dozen puffs of smoke fired from the side of the ship, bursts of dark red blood splashing the Keep's side. Corvus flew backwards, slamming into the far wall of the orrey room. 

_NO!_ screamed Sydney, diving down to smash into the _Psalm_'s deck. She grabbed the nearest man in her jaws, grinding her teeth back and forth. Althalos stabbed a soldier brandishing a pike. DeSalle rose from the wheel like a spectre, and Althalos leveled the pistol. The priest dove to the side as a fusillade of shots tore the wheel apart. Althalos felt an odd presence enter his thoughts, through Sydney.

_It is over... Remember me._ it said. He felt an immense release of energy, surging from the speaker to the orrey in Icefang's tower. A beam of white light, so pure it incinerated the smog of the Wastes in an instant, flashed upwards, cutting into the sky. The snow and icicles on the Keep were flashed away in an instant. The plains around the fortress flashed into steam, and a verdant field of grasses grew up for miles around. The bitter cold of the Wastes vanished, replaced with a warm, comfortable aura. The beam grew thinner, and thinner, until it vanished with a _crack_.

A shockwave blasted from the tower, throwing every man to the ground. Several of the damaged ships fell, out of control. Every one of the Empire's ships was destroyed, Sydney vaulting from the _A Psalm Every Day_ just as the ship smashed into kindling. Althalos turned as DeSalle leapt for Sydney's departing figure. He turned and shot the man high on his chest just as the priest jumped. DeSalle caught the bare edge of the dragon's armor, and Sydney banked involuntarily, thrown off-balance by the extra weight.

Althalos felt the speaker's thoughts vanish, and a last message came unbidden.

_Drakonire. Don't ever.. let her go._

The mind vanished, and Althalos knew Corvus had died, giving himself to start the Orrey. He turned, tears falling from his eyes, mouth twisted into a snarl. DeSalle hung on with both hands, blood streaming from his chest. Althalos grabbed the man by the neck. 

"This, is personal." he said.

He released his grip, throwing Lord DeSalle the thousand feet to the ground.

Sydney dove to the orrey room, sweeping in to run to Corvus' side. The black dragon was next to the Orrey, which now spun in complex patterns. He was laying in a pool of blood from the multiple cannon shots. Sydney lowered her head to his, allowing Althalos to jump off her back. She nudged him twice, then raised her head, letting out a high, keeing wail. Her mind instantly closed to Althalos, who lowered his gaze, staring at DeSalle's blood staining his gauntlet. Mirror and Vaul landed at the parapet, staring at the scene. Baldur was close behind, settling down directly behind them. Daniels and a dozen sharpshooters rushed from the elevator, Daniels still carrying the egg.

"Oh, Sigmar." swore Daniels, staring at the dead dragon.

Sydney took the egg from him, and without even a backward glance, flew off into the darkening sky. Althalos turned, the tears staining his cloth mask. Daniels put his arm around the half-elven, thinking him wounded. Althalos let the sharpshooter carry him all the way to the Citadel doors, then he sat on the steps for near an hour, dissolving into hiccuping sobs every time he recounted the battle. He remained there until Vaul approached him, the dragon's smoldering color dulled to a black-grey. 

_Come, Drakonire. She will be back when she is ready._ he said, nudging Althalos with his snout. Althalos nodded to the dragon, and let Vaul lead him back to the two-story house. He slept at the foot of the stairs, between the fireplace and the door, unwilling even to lay eyes on the room upstairs.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

oh snap, that sucks. Good dramatic chapter though!


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

My gosh... I can feel the sadness... Bravo... Magnificent... An impressive work Dirge!:victory:


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

Very good!

Also-


> "This, is personal." he said.
> 
> He released his grip, throwing Lord DeSalle the thousand feet to the ground.


300 reference?


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Actually I didn't even realise the similarity there, but they do seem remarkably alike.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

THROUGH THE ASHES
--------------------

Althalos stood in _A Psalm Every Day_'s wreckage. The ship rest a half-kilometer from the Icefang Keep's walls, among a small copse of trees. Althalos stared past the wreck to the misty barrier seperating the magically sustained enviorment inside, and the bitterly cold, lifeless Wastes outside. The ship had smashed into the ground at quite an angle, seperating the bow and stern. Bodies were everywhere, among the debris. He stepped over a bent cannon and inspected the carnage. A dozen or so other ships lay around the _Psalm_, each destroyed utterly by the force of hitting the ground. 

A single body lay away from the ship, it's armor bent by the impact. Blood was spattered in a wide swath. Althalos knelt by Lord DeSalle's body, running a finger around the massive hole the revolver bullet had left in the priest's chest. He pictured the man's face as he had fallen, a mix of anger and fear, dissolving into panic as Althalos had let go of his neck.

Funeral pyres were burning near the walls, the dozens of dead on either side were being burned. The Chaos forces from the seige were simply thrown into piles outside of the barrier. An emissary sent to the Empire had returned with news; Karl Franz hadn't known of the attack. DeSalle had ordered it simply to take revenge agains the Keep for disrespecting him. Althalos shook his head. So many dead, for such little reason.

A horn blew from the wall, barely audible at the distance. A speck appeared on the horizon, growing into a familiar shape. Althalos cried out, and Sydney dove shallowly, landing in front of him. Her armor from the battle was still on, and Althalos could see the small abrasions it had from rubbing against her scales. The egg was clutched in her jaws. She lowered her head, letting him take it. 

_It's difficult to believe._ she said simply, turning to look at the sunrise. 

_I know.

No, you don't._

Althalos shifted the heavy egg to one arm, and patted her shoulder. She looked away from him, then turned back.

_It's over, then?

It's over. We can leave whenever you are ready, if you don't want to stay.

We can stay for now... let him have a few months of peace.

Him?_

She nudged the egg in Althalos' arms. 

_It's a he._

She twitched her head towards her back, and Althalos climbed onto the saddle. He held the egg between his chest and one arm, and Sydney leapt into the air, landing on the roof of Icefang. The orrey room was high above the pair, the huge hole in the side still remaining from the battle. Daniels met him at the roof.

"Drakonire. Darkscales." he said crisply, screwing a massive sight onto the top of his weapon.

_Sharpshooter._ replied Sydney.

They walked down the steps Zacharias had led them down on their first day in the Keep, moving out of the way of the crowds of masons busy rebuilding the damage done by the two seiges. A sorrowful, yet happy feeling was in the air, reflected by the white stone and grey iron of the city. The Clockwork Temple stood to the west, and the Citadel was alight with torches, a wild party consuming most of the castle's space, as well as the Grounds. The two-story house was undamaged from either siege. Sydney took the egg back from Althalos, leaping up to the hole in the second floor. She lay against the wall, the egg between her two front claws. Althalos walked up the stairs, and unbuckled her armor, tossing it into a pile atop the stack of animal skins he had used as a bed. He lay against her side, next to the egg, and the pair slept, each thinking of the battle that had claimed so much.


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Its a he?... Are there anymore sieges?... Kinda short Dirge but still... Excellent work...:victory:


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Yes. No. Thank you!


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Great work dirge, bloody brilliant.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks. Look for _Ireius_ later tonight, or maybe tomorrow morning.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Morning all! Nothing doing until 9, so here we go!
----------------------------------------------

IREIUS
------

TWO WEEKS LATER

Althalos flinched. He sat up, careful not to disturb Sydney. A musical _clink_ sounded as a piece of something bounced off the shirt of mail he was wearing.

He yawned, then turned to see what had woken him. A small chip of what looked like stone sat next to him. Althalos picked it up, brow furrowed in concentration.

A thought struck him, and he turned to stare at the egg between Sydney's claws.

Spiderwebs of cracks grew up around a tiny hole in the egg's surface, letting squeaks and growls escape. Althalos nudged Sydney, who started, then blinked slowly as her eyes focused on the tiny dragon.

More chips were flung off the egg, landing in random patterns around it. Sydney let go of the egg, and it cracked open with an abrupt noise, spilling the dragon onto the floor.

_What?_ said Sydney, confusion etching itself into her feelings. 

The dragon was white, as white as anything Althalos had seen. He picked himself off the floor clumsily, tripping once as he rubbed himself against his mother's stomach. Sydney reached down with her head gently, licking the dragon. He chirped in a shrill tone and nipped at Sydney's nose. The confusion ended, replaced by a mix of sheer joy and wonderment. 

_Why is he white?_ asked Althalos. Sydney cocked her head, pondering the dragon.

_I don't know. Perhaps one of the older dragons could tell us. Vaul or Aurum, surely.

What are you going to call him?

I'm not sure. Corvus had several names. We never decided._ 

She rose up, the young dragon following her every move. It stood up to it's full height, about the size of a dog. Sydney extended her left wing, completely obscuring the ceiling in the room from view. The dragon copied the motion, it's wing still wet from the egg's interior. Althalos picked up the shard that had woken him. It was roughly triangle-shaped, about two inches on each side. He put it into the pocket of his vest.

Sydney picked the dragon up by it's neck, ignoring it's squeals of protest. She placed it just in front of the saddle she now wore habitually, as so much of the fighting in the Keep had come about so suddenly. Althalos leapt up, swinging a leg over to the other side, putting a protective hand on the baby dragon's shoulder, to keep it from falling.

_I don't know if he can fly._ admitted Sydney, staring at the dragon. She vaulted out the side of the house, gaining altitude. She swept between two tall chimneys, landing in the courtyard in front of the Citadel. Daniels and a group of other soldiers lounged on the steps, comparing weapons.

"Now, Drakonire. I don't believe you had two with you last time." he said with a chuckle. "Congratulations, Darkscales."

Sydney nodded in reply, walking up the steps into the main floor of the Citadel. Zacharias was talking to a robed acolyte in hushed tones, pointing at passages in a fat book with the cog-sword insignia of the Clockwork Temple.

He turned as Althalos slid off Sydney, holding the young dragon in his arms. The baby squirmed and nibbled on his collar, so he set it down in front of Sydney, and it calmed suddenly, sitting on the floor. Zacharias looked down at the dragon with a wry smile.

"And who is this?" asked the Lord Icefang, kneeling to look the dragon in the eye. 

A gust of wind blew through the keep, and a black shadow flipped through a window, rolling to come upright.

"That, is a very young.... white dragon." said Lukas, tilting his head. "How-?"

_Your guess is as good as mine._ replied Sydney. Lukas handed Zacharias a scroll from his belt.

"Those requisition orders are ready." Lukas said. Zacharias nodded and handed the assassin a handful of bronze pieces. He placed them in a pouch, nodded to Althalos, and vaulted out the same window he'd come in by.

Zacharias stood up. "Well, in any regards, I congratulate you. I'll be sure to adjust the granary orders to feed two dragons instead of one."

Althalos nodded. "That would be appreciated."

Sydney was staring up the elevator shaft, looking up the long way to the orrey room.

_I think I've found a name._ she said to Althalos. 

_What's that?_

_Ireius. Corvus liked that name._

Althalos nodded, and both of them looked down at Ireius, the White.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Awesome. Can't wait to find out why he's white!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks. Actually, this is quite departed from the original ending chapters. I'll explain after this is finished with. Only two more to go!
----------------------------------------------------

HIS PEOPLE
-----------

FOUR WEEKS LATER

Sydney and Mirror had left an hour past, telling Althalos they were going to teach Irieus to fly. The young dragon was beginning to breath fire, a trait Althalos remembered from the days when Sydney was young. He fireproofed everything in the house with Life magic. Ireius also had begun to speak. First to Sydney alone, then included Althalos as well. 

Althalos walked down the street, past the blacksmith's. Icefang was bustling now, dozens of people moving to and fro with goods and packages. Since the Orrey was repaired, the crops around the city flourished. Metals were bult stronger, and the Keep itself seemed renergized by the forces unleashed. A burly man in a leather apron sat behind a counter, tapping a fine engraving into a plate of metal with a recessed battle scene imprinted onto it.

"Fine craftsmanship." complimented Althalos, looking at the piece. The man nodded.

"Thank'ee, Drakonire. Took me many a month to make something like this before. Now I can do it in a week's time."

The blacksmith handed Althalos the plate. It was a magnificent depiction. Armored swordsmen clashed with pike-wielding warriors in front of a burning fortress. Something about the piece nagged at him.

"What does this represent?" asked Althalos, giving the plate back to the smithy.

The smith took the metal and pointed at the engraving.

*The Betrayal of House Aeidael, at Tor Cassera*

Althalos started. He looked down at the metal.

"That's not how it happened." he said softly. "It was dark."

He turned it over, running his fingers across the scene.

"And it was raining."

_Lightning flashed across the sky. Rain pounded on the roof of the stone building of House Aeidael. Althalos sat inside the covered pavillion, swinging a short sword at a straw target. Valaen was watching, holding his own blade. The boys were seventeen, just past the age where they were permitted their own weapons. 

He slashed the torso of the straw man, cutting him cleanly in half. Valaen clapped. 

"Let's see you do better." said Althalos. The elf nodded.

"With pleasure."

Valaen jumped, cutting the arm from his own target. Althalos lunged and stabbed it in the chest, and Valaen finished it with a swipe across it's neck.

"Good one."

"You were always the better fighter."

"You were always the better mage."

Valaen nodded, bringing a jug of clear water into the room. The boys each took a stone cup, drinking the cool liquid.

A yell sounded from outside.

"What's going on?" asked Althalos, instantly concerned. The dragon he had found nearly eight years before, Sydney, was hiding in the forests outside the walls. If the guards had found her... No. It was impossible.

"Father said the patrols haven't been back yet. Maybe one of them's late?" suggested Valaen.

The yell turned to a high-pitched shriek. An elven archer dove through the door into the atrium, two arrows piercing his chest. He collapsed, and the boys ran to him, turning him over.

"Saban?" asked Althalos. Saban was the kindest of the Tor Cassera Guard, always letting the boys sneak by with pockets of arrowheads and old lodestones from the battlefields. Now he was dead. A shout sounded, and the House's alarm bells began to ring. Valaen stood up, sword drawn, and a dozen Dragon Guard smashed open the doors.

"Dragon Guard!" yelled Valaen. "House Demakarl has turned against us!"

The leader of the Guard smashed Valaen's sword aside, punching the youth.

"Is this how they fight?" he yelled. "Petty archers and boy soldiers?!"

Althalos leapt forward, catching the elf off-guard. His sword swept up, cutting deep into the elf's sternum. Blood erupted from his mouth, and he toppled over. The rest of the Guard screamed vengeance and ran forward. Valaen jump to meet them, deflecting two strikes before a third stabbed him through the chest. The boy looked down at the sword, then into the face of his killer.

"...Father?" he asked, and died. 

"The game is over, my warriors!" yelled Valaen's father, pulling the Dragon Guard helm from his head. Althalos turned and ran down the hallway, listening to the slaughter of his family and friends behind him. An orange glow began to seep through the hall as fires were lit.

Sydney! he yelled with his thoughts. The dragon registered the cry and dove from her perch in the cliffs above the city. Wood splintered and stone was crushed as Sydney smashed into the structure of House Aeidael. The false Dragon Guard were crushed under her, except for Valaen's father, who fell to the side, clutching a smashed leg. Althalos grabbed the roll his mother had put aside for emergencies, refusing to look at her body, and ran back down the hall, grabbing a torch from the wall.

Valaen's father looked in shock at the Dragon in the atrium. Althalos jumped onto the small, homemade saddle on her back, and threw the torch into the straw littering the ground under Valaen's father.

"You're not good enough for Hell." said Althalos, as Sydney swept her wings down, powering above the burning remains of his home. He sobbed quietly, angry and sad and confused all at once. He leaned forward, hugging her neck, and they flew through the night, towards the lands of the Empire._

The future rushed back with a snap. The smith looked at him, confused.

"Excuse me." said Althalos, walking back down the street, closing the door of the two-story house behind him. He sat against the door, letting the few tears run down his face. He saw Valaen's face. He saw his mother's face. Most of all, he saw the face of Valaen's father as the torch landed at his feet, looking up at Althalos with a horrified stare.

_Dragoneer!_ a voice cried into Althalos' thoughts. He stood up, opening the door. Ireius didn't know what the word "Drakonire" meant, so he called Althalos the closest approximation he could pronounce. "Dragoneer", "Dragonseer", "Drakynire", and "Drakonia" were all acceptable, as far as the young dragon was concerned. A rush of air buffeted him as Irieus landed directly in front of him, Sydney and Mirror landing behind him in the street.

_Did you see me?_ asked Ireius, looking at his mother, then to Althalos.

_We did._ replied Sydney. Mirror looked at Althalos.

_The boy flies like he was born to._ she said, glancing at Ireius.

_Are you alright?_ asked Sydney, noticing the repressed sadness in his thoughts.

_I'm fine...just old memories._


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Oh ffs and I didn't think you could get any better.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks! I'll post the last part tonight, or tomorrow. It's way the heck to early to write...


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## vacantghost (Feb 16, 2008)

nice work, love to read more haha


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Sorry, you came in a little late haha. Only this, and then I'm starting my next story, _The 409th_. If you want the original story, PM me, I've got it on a .doc.

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A NEW BEGINNING
-----------------

Dawn at Icefang was as near to Tor Cassera's sunrise as Althalos ever thought he would see. The new sun peeking over the mountains reminded him so much of the cliffsides surrounding the elven city he had to look down. Ireius swept up the wall, landing beside him.

_Thinking thoughts, Drakynore?

You could say that._

Althalos lay his hand on Ireius' head. The dragon snorted and took off again, floating above the Keep. 

Sydney climbed up the spiral stair behind him, pausing as she too recognized the familiar sight.

_Do you ever miss it?_ she asked. Althalos began to shake his head, then stopped.

_There's not much for me there, anymore. House Demakarl practically owns the city. Aeidael is just dust and echoes now. Ever since the night I...we...left.

It's still your home.

I don't have a home.

Don't punish yourself little one, everyone must have a home._

She bent and licked his face, making him chuckle. Her saddlebags were on, along with her saddle. Ireius was practicing flying with small packs tied to his sides. They would need provisions for the journey south.

_Are you ready to leave?_ asked Althalos. Sydney looked at the tower where to Orrey rested, a fresh layer of stones covering the hole in the side. A simple inscription at the tower's base had been added.

HERE FELL CORVUS THE BLACK, DEFENDING ICEFANG

Sydney looked at the script with a sadness that even Ireius noticed. He landed, nuzzling his mother's leg. She looked from Ireius to Althalos.

_Yes. I am ready to leave._

Althalos nodded, throwing himself over the saddle and tying the straps around his legs. Sydney looked down at her son.

_Now remember to tell me if you get tired. I don't want you falling out of the air because you feel you have something to prove.

You told me, mama. I'll tell you if I get tired._

Lukas and Daniels walked up the spiral stair. 

"Thought you could sneak off at first light, without saying goodbye?" asked the Sharpshooter. Althalos laughed.

"No. Just needing to get south."

Lukas nodded, his expression impossible to read as always. 

"Drakonire," he said, bowing shallowly. "I hope to meet you again. Preferably somewhere warm. Perhaps Araby?"

"Perhaps, Shadowlight. It is probable our next fight will be in Ulthuan, however."

Lukas cocked his head, thinking.

"It's warm in Ulthuan. Perhaps I could use a change of scenery."

Althalos nodded warmly. "Perhaps."

"I'll inform the noviates immediately. I will meet you at the Gilded Sword. It's a pub I know."

"Agreed."

Daniels watched Lukas walk back down the stairs. "Will you ever be back?"

Sydney turned her head to stare at the soldier.

_Hard to say, warrior. We seem to go everywhere trouble breeds. Perhaps Clan Moulder's halls, or Lustria next? Oh! Maybe a nice sojourn into the Blasted Wastes?_

Daniels laughed. "I'll take that as a "yes".

_As you should. Farewell, warrior._

Sydney jumped off the edge of Icefang Keep, Ireius close behind. Her wings snapped open, catching the wind, and the trio began the long trip back to the Empire.

-----------------------------------------

Thanks to all who read this, and especially those who posted feedback. It's great to know that my work's valued, and it really makes me happy when I get on and see that someone's posted. 

I'll be starting my next story in a matter of days, a tale of the glorious 409th Drop Jet Jumpers. Warhammer 40K themed, o'course.

See you then!

Seni onjor thorna et Jyass!
-Dirge


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

awesome, can't wait for the next story. Keep this one on .doc, I want a compilation at some point


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