As one, the five at the head of the line stopped; the others behind immediately followed suit. Directly in front of the master mantra maker a fire raged furiously, the heart of which flickered from blue to orange, to red and yellow and back again, only seen through a shimmering heat similar to that of a glassmaker's forge. Mesmerising in itself, this was something that under normal circumstances most dragons would have stopped to fully take in, bathe in the heat and lose themselves in the warm radiance and hypnotic colours. But not here, and not today, especially given the fire's purpose. One of many, the flames encompassed a horde of dragon cadavers, burning its way through what remained of their disfigured and brutally maimed bodies, searing muscle and sinew alike, roasting flesh, stripping away skin and scales from the skeleton, reducing everything but the bones to ashes, systematically destroying all evidence of the atrocities that had been carried out. Bile rose up the throats of all the dragons at the front. As one, the shopkeeper included, they all forced it back down, fighting against the nausea, just as they would if it were a physical opponent. It was tough on them all. Unlike the pyres back in Salisbridge, the biggest of which probably embodied no more than eight or nine dragons, the one in front of them had more than that just at its base, and rose up for as far as they could see, disappearing into the thick, throat scratching, acrid black smoke at six or seven dragon bodies high. From the looks of things, it had been an absolute massacre. Setting the feelings of grief, pain, loss, anger and disgust to one side, Gee Tee used a light touch to send a telepathic message back to the others, not wanting them to experience the same kind of horrific surprise that he'd felt when they'd stumbled upon the smoking desecration.
Soundlessly, a huge, scaled jaw cut through the darkness that surrounded them, appearing as if by magic in between the four friends. With tensions running high, Sam reached for the first of his grenades, with both Emma and Angela following his lead. Taibul, recognising the dragon from the ranks further behind them, stood down.
"Easy... little ones, we're friends, not foes. Remember?"
Clipping their grenades quickly back into place, all three shook their heads, each letting out a long breath, the relief palpable, tension eased momentarily.
"Sorry," whispered Angela, her voice taut and full of nervous energy.
"Apology accepted," mouthed the prehistoric beast quietly.
"You should all know that we've stumbled across a mass of burning dragon bodies. It's not only shocking but quite horrific. We just thought you should know so that you can prepare yourself. We have to go right past it. There's no other way around."
"We all witnessed the ones back at Salisbridge. Is it worse than that?" piped up Emma.
"I'm afraid so," replied the dragon, "and by quite some margin apparently. I'm sorry that you have to witness all this."
"And we're all sorry for your loss," put in Angela, her voice filled with regret.
"Good to know, little ones. Steel yourselves."
And with that, the huge, scaled skull disappeared back into the thick smoke behind them, leaving them all to wonder about what the others had encountered and just how bad it could be.
Pretty damn bad as it turned out. Despite their dampened, makeshift masks, the sickly, vomit inducing smell still seemed to race up their nostrils and launch a full assault on their delicate (more so than the dragons around them) senses. Digging deep, it took everything they had not to be sick, and from the few dragons in their own force that they were able to see, it didn't appear any different for them. So with sweat from the furious fire that nobody appeared to want to put out dripping down their faces, before running down their collar bones, disappearing off into goodness knows where, they did their best not to look at the towering pile of cadavers, fully aware that their own fate might well be the same. With the same courage they'd shown back in Salisbridge during the fight of their lives, and much to their dragon comrades' satisfaction, they soldiered on through the nose blocking, eye watering smoke and devastation, determined to play their part.
An accident, a total and utter coincidence was how it could be described. But that was why they'd set up this way, and that was why they were ready and unfazed... their adversaries, not so much.
Two serpent shaped nagas slithered through the overpowering, choking smoke, around a corner and ran straight into the ferocious dragon that had been stalking just to Gee Tee's left. Surprise and astonishment were the first reactions to the encounter, from both beings. Unlike their enemies, they'd fully expected to bump into trouble, and so faster than the eye could see, they reacted as only dragons could.
Instantly the telepathic warning of engagement ran through every dragon's head in the small, compact, fighting force. Those at the back tucked in, forming a shield around those in the middle, including the four humans. As one, the front four engaged, their movements shrouded in silence thanks to the mantra that had been bound to them all much earlier on. For Gee Tee, it was all about keeping his head and delving deep into the well of experience that only he could call upon. And so he did. Reacting slowly to their newfound discovery, the darker coloured of the two drew open his mouth in an effort to strike back with some kind of ear splitting scream. With a flourish of his fingers and an effortless use of his will, the old shopkeeper stood back out of range of the physical fighting and directed a three word mantra straight at the serpent's mouth. Immediately it closed tight, engendering a stifled snort and much more surprise than that of the original encounter. With super speed and the brutality to match, the four versus two match up was now in full swing, the lighter coloured of the two nagas propelling her tail around in a one hundred and eighty degree arc, sweeping the feet of one dragon away, watching in satisfaction as he hurtled to the ground, dumbfounded at the lack of noise on impact. And that tiny distraction was just enough to end her life, because in that fraction of a second, dragon number two had glided up out of nowhere and rallying against every ounce of decency in his prehistoric body, clamped his wickedly sharp teeth around the slippery beast's neck. Muscles tensing and using all his might, he bit clean through, tearing the monster's head from the rest of its elongated body. Witnessing the fate of his partner, the other naga, the much darker scaled one, reacted as only he knew how... he screamed. Or at least he tried to, but the wily shopkeeper's mantra was still in fine working order, fastening his jaws shut, preventing him from uttering a single sound. Sensing what was almost inevitable, and in a fit of utter rage at what had just happened to his longstanding friend, the remaining serpent went berserk, flailing and scrabbling, using his scaled tail as a club, casting what little magic he knew would work from deep inside his mind. Knowing better than to underestimate an enemy that had long since graced these lands, two of the dragons jumped back out of range, allowing their comrades more space and freedom to fight in, determined to offer support in the way of magical healing if required. Ravaged by bloodlust and the unfettered belief that he was going to die, the naga, despising the heat and longing for the cool, dark waters of the Antarctic, let the madness consume him. In one foul, blurred strike, he head butted the first dragon to approach him, the thick, sickly 'THUNK!' of contact echoing out over the crackle of the fire slowly consuming the mutilated dragon corpses. Instantly disappearing off into the darkness, with brilliant, thick, green blood spurting from his nose and a wound beneath his right eye, the red tinged dragon thudded to the floor, once and for all out of the fight. Having seen his chum caught well and truly off guard, one of the outer two dragons stepped in, straight away having to lean back like a limbo dancer to avoid the chest height haze of a tail that came whizzing in his direction. Mad at not having finished this floundering clown, after the tail passed him by he dived in, talons first, latching onto the scales at the base of the monster's back. As the penetrating scream of pain escaped the naga's lips, the remaining dragon that had stepped back, had the forethought to wrap the sound up with magic, preventing it from leaving the immediate area, keeping their presence a secret, shrouding everything that was going on, in silence. Razor sharp talons firmly attached, the dragon flapped his wings for momentum, and then with everything he had, pushed all his weight forward, forcing the writhing and wriggling beast onto its chest, all the time watching out for that darting and probing tail.