Mythical Battle
By: Dortheron Posted on: June 30, 2016
Atop the majesty back of the glimmering white dragon, Han-Tolneth peers over the battlefield. Comrades and enemies clash against each other, a mixture of madness as the War of the Gods wage onwards. He spots Overlord Gruul of Arn charging towards an unfamiliar foe before his attention is drawn to someone Han-Tolneth, the Dragon Rider had known all his life and come to face in combat.
He calls out to his partner and steed, the gleaming white Ashaxei, to charge towards his crystalline encased enemy. Han-Silnar stands unintimidated as the pair charges towards him, slowly drawing both of his great blades and readying himself. Ashaxei bellows out a roar as she rushes to the traitorous Aldar, the rider drawing a massive blade from his back and raising it high. In the last moment, Han-Silnar rolls away as he slashes at the rider, the crystal swords resonating as it glances off of the shimmering scales of the beast. Each Aldar turns back towards each other, the sound of a whipping cloak and creaking emerald armour lost amidst the battlefield. Neither side hesitating, they clash and crash towards each other, blade against blade, brother against brother.
Ashaxei takes to the sky, swopping down and colliding towards the earth-bound Aldar, only to be dodged by the sudden movements of the large warrior. Han-Tolneth raised his blade and chops downwards from his greater height for a debilitating blow, only to become a blunt impact on his brother’s gem-crusted bracers. With one arm defending, Han-Silnar slashes at the exposed belly of the dragon and is warded away by a wave of fiery breath from her gaping maw. Strike and weave, block and blow; neither side striking a decisive hit but slowly wearing each other down.
Seconds turn into minutes as the clash rages on, a seemingly unending conflict. Han-Tolneth stares at his brother briefly as they disengage, all fighters worn down by minor injuries and exhaustion. But he could not lose. Without the Dragon Host he commanded, the War between the Triumvirate and the alliance of the Elder Gods come to a close without their intervention. Once more empowered, Han-Tolneth rejoins with the ivory Ashaxei to strike against the servant of Lorielan.
Battered and tired, they slow down as muscles weaken and breath grows shallow but no mercy is given. With no words muttered they continue to rain punishment on each other, pushing themselves beyond their limits. Suddenly, the tides shift in an instant as Han-Tolneth slaps his large weapon down against his brother’s hand, breaking the grip on one of the crystal blades. A cry of triumph rings out of the white dragon’s maw as the imposing Aldar is too slow to react and is struck down.
Weary from battle and grief, Han-Tolneth takes measure of the battle. Instead of the blood-soaked scenery he remembered, a clear field of dirt meet his eyes. Something is wrong he thinks, a growing dread building within him. Towering shadows falls on his ally Gruul, still locked in battle with a short, round, and jolly dwarf. But something was different about the Overlord’s foe. Not clad with leather or armour but with a soft outfit of cloth, the child of Phaestus is belches loudly as he swings his present filled satchel at his foe. This should not be!
Han-Tolneth tries to urge his steed onwards to assist his ally, but his body does not respond. His movements stiffen and his mind dulls. And finally, with his eyes glazing over to a lifeless still, he poses proudly on his partner Ashaxei while a loud voice from one of the titanic shadows calls out from above, “After defeating the figurine of Han-Silnar, the Condemned, Dortheron’s figurine of dragon-borne Han-Tolneth moves onto the semi-finals of the 5th Delos Figurine Tournament!”