"PANTS!" he shouted at the top of his voice, pulling his hand back faster than a leopard powered by energy drinks.
"Y... y... you okay?" stuttered DomCon, rushing round in front of Steel.
"Guard the prisoner!" ordered Jar Man, cuffing his slightly diminutive friend around the back of the head 'Gibbs fashion' in an effort to keep up appearances.
"It just gave me a little shock, that's all."
An unexpected voice rang out inside their heads.
"Stay away from their magic. Goodness only knows what it can do."
Giving a little nod in the direction of their falsely restrained friend, the two so-called guards pondered their next move. Suddenly they were interrupted as a tiny hole opened up, and a dark metal globe on the end of a dark metal arm thrust itself in their direction, stopping just short of 'Ginger's' face. Standing stock still, all they could do was look on. Out of the blue, a pale green, circular light, very much resembling an eye, appeared on the surface of the globe nearest Jar Man's face. Fighting back nerves, he held his breath.
A deeply monotonous voice spoke.
"Present your request!"
'Yikes!' thought DomCon.
Fortunately his mate was much quicker, not only on his feet, but behind his eyes.
"We were told to bring the prisoner here for interrogation."
"Hmmmmmmm..." answered the voice. "One moment."
Facing straight ahead, not daring to look away, Jar Man maintained the stoic look on his face, very much hoping it resembled that of the guards they'd already passed. Moments later the utterly boring voice rang out once again.
"Access will be granted imminently."
And with that, a loud, grating rumble filled the air, as the gigantic, magic infused disc slowly rolled back to reveal a well lit assembly hall. Swallowing hard, Jar Man strode forward, doing his best to ignore the somersaults his stomach had been performing for some time now. Giving the prisoner a shove to encourage him to move, DomCon played his part to perfection. Out of the corner of one eye he could just make out the energy infused crystal node in the far corner of the antechamber. Using all his concentration, he did his very best not to stare at it.
'Finally!' thought Steel, shrouding his mind in magic, just as any prisoner brought forward here would do. They were now exactly where they needed to be. The end game could begin.
Passing the grenade over to his left hand as carefully as possible, he wiped his free hand against the back of the black jumper that he wore, hoping to get rid of most of the sweat, before returning the weapon to his dominant hand. It was hot here... baking hot, with absolutely no relief. The dragons around him seemed to be lapping it up, all extremely comfortable with the intense heat; if anything it seemed to give them more get up and go, make them more eager for confrontation. Following behind the three other humans, he'd lost sight of the master mantra maker and the other dragons spread out at the front when they disappeared into the darkness. Spooky, eerie, ghostly, spine-chilling were all words he felt summed up his existing situation. Moving through a place like this was bad enough, but doing so in complete and utter silence gave him the 'willies', so to speak. On top of which he kept on catching stray glimpses of some of the dragons he was travelling with, which made it all the more alarming. Part of him thought that he should have been used to them by now, and to a certain degree he was, but given that fantasy creatures he only knew from computer games, movies and books were right at this very moment alongside and behind him, his perception was all over the place. Knowing that he needed to concentrate, because almost certainly there was going to be another crazy battle similar to the one at Salisbridge, he pushed the part of him that was terrified to the core away to the back of his psyche and embraced the equal amount of him that loved every second. Wiping the sweat from his chin on his shoulder, Taibul carried on bringing up the rear of the human contingent, determined to do everything in his power to keep them, and his new found dragon allies, safe.
48
Swamped
Sensing the danger a split second before it hit them, George thrust out a wing and shoved Amelia Battlehard out of the way, before diving off in the opposite direction. The mammoth chunk of rubble missed the end of his tail by millimetres, crashing perilously onto the top of the magical dome protecting the fighting force beneath it. Fearing more debris falling from the roof cloaked in shadows, far out of sight, George thought he had best tell those below him to move themselves out of the way quickly, even if it meant breaking up the safety of their shared barrier. Opening his mind to do just that, tearing a wing from a dive-bombing dark dragon with a compartmentalised part of it as he did so, it was then that he spotted what had actually happened, and the slight change in tactics his adversaries were now adopting. Clusters of dragons were picking up parts of the roof that had all ready fallen to the floor, before flying high up above the king and his group of light sided fighters and dropping said debris from a great height towards their protective shield. As the king watched dispassionately, two more dragons circled around, ready to make their bombing runs. Knowing that the shield couldn't possibly take this kind of bombardment for long, the rather angry monarch decided to take matters into his own hands.
With multiple spells constantly on the go, stretching the mana inside him this way and that without thinking about it, he applied a shocking touch to a dragon opponent that had dropped in from the sky just behind him, hoping no doubt to take him by surprise, before performing a one-hundred and eighty degree roundhouse kick to send the prehistoric monster's body flying off the top of the dome, tumbling onto some of his comrades below. Intently watching the next dragon from a group circling some way off head towards him, all the while deflecting dazzling bolts of magic from both himself and Amelia, he conjured up two potent and very different mantras and, without hesitation, despatched them towards their targets. The first, what he liked to refer to as an Arctic blast, was plain for all to see. Five frosty bolts materialised from the palm of his right hand, rocketing off into the mayhem of magic, dedicated fully to searching out their target, the next dragon on the bombing run. Simultaneously, his second attack appeared without warning above and around the rest of the dark dragons circling, all clinging onto humungous chunks of debris, waiting for their bombing runs to start. Still multitasking on an epic scale, George couldn't help but turn his attention to his adversaries far off in the air, pretty sure he'd like the result of his spectacular effort. As acid rain cascaded down on top of all of them, burning straight through their scales, annihilating their soft organs, screams, screeches and shrills of terror carried throughout the private residence, momentarily catching the attention of every being fighting there. Pleased with himself for a very small moment, he turned his attention back to the more immediate threat, having fleetingly lost track of his Arctic surprise, whilst at the same time crushing the skull of a naga who'd almost gotten the edge on the only surviving councillor down beneath him. Receiving a mental nod of thanks from his ally, he went back to tracking his frosty projectiles.