Grimoires and Gunsmoke

Beyond the violent and chaotic battle on the other side of the rift, a magnificent and enormous Sovereign, a type of Celestial Dragon, unfolded its golden feathered wings that cast its intimidating shadow over the luxurious enclave it had claimed as its resting ground.

The expeditionary forces of the Empire had spared no expense and no effort in constructing its vast sanctuary, which contrasted greatly with the utilitarian tents surrounding it. Not only were the massive pillows the being was laying on embroidered with the finest threads the mortal realms could offer, but they also rested upon expansive padded ground mattresses that were requisitioned from the army proper. With this particular patch of the military encampment transformed, the Sovereign found itself as satisfied as a great being like itself could be with its new haven.

At least, that was until some petulant mortal disturbed their slumber.

Before the creature of legend, a Dragonborn General covered in a cascade of dark, iridescent feathers knelt before them in fervent reverence. The Celestial Dragon’s grand form dwarfed the General’s proud frame as he prostrated himself.

The General in question immediately brought his to the ground as the hateful eyes of the ancient creature tried to bore a hole in his head, furious at how such a lowly being could fathom interrupting their leisure time.

"Korthax," the dragon earth-shaking voice sounded almost like a symphony of thunderous clouds and flowing rivers, "I am assuming you have come to me with words of victory and conquest." The Sovereign asked, narrowing its radiant eyes.

But instead of the answer it expected, the atmosphere hung heavy as silence reigned. Korthax had been a warrior of unparalleled might amongst his peers and heralded as a genius strategist. Yet, the man found himself kneeling and shaking like a leaf as the Sovereign’s glare grew increasingly hostile.

"... No, my sovereign," Korthax finally managed to utter, his once confident and commanding voice falling flat and turning more into a mewl. The General’s eyes were a whirlpool of conflicted emotions. Shame because of his failure, humiliation in failing to assess the threat, and unmitigated fear as he met those burning golden eyes that seemed to want to disintegrate him right then and there. "This realm's dwellers have... a resilience we did not anticipate."

The colossal being let out a loud and irritated huff as they leaned forward, creating a majestic and intimidating canopy over Korthax. "Speak, you unsightly cur! And let not your words falter, for your failure as general on the battlefield is mirrored tenfold in your cowardice now!" the Sovereign’s booming voice echoed throughout the enclave, causing the ground to shake as their eyes bore into Korthax.

The fiery orbs seemed to pierce into the very core of Korthax’s being, seeking to ignite a flame where now only smoldered ashes of doubt. He could feel every vertebra in his spine crystallizing with an age-old and primal dread birthed from the legends of yore.

"Their constructs might even make the green-flamed furnaces of the stalwart mountain-born. dwarves flicker with envy!" Korrthax blurted out hastily, his voice fluctuating between desperation and awe. "M-Metal beasts at their command, crawling through their lands while exhaling fire and devastation with unyielding exactness and -"

"Inane ramblings and craven justifications!" With the fury of a thousand storms, a snarl interrupted the poor general as he quaked where he knelt.

The Sovereign vast wings unfurled menacingly, a living tapestry of golden hues engulfing the twilight, usurping the gentle warmth with impending darkness that echoed its fury. "You kneel before me spewing these infantile fairy tales, Korthax!” Flames shot from the Celestial Dragon’s nostrils as the being bared its teeth. “Daring to tell of mechanical beasts roaming the lands, yet you control the skies with legions of my scaled kin!" The Sovereign sneered.

Korthax's whole being trembled like a fragile leaf before a hurricane as his gaze remained fixed on the ground in deferment. Yet, within him, a fraction of the courage he once held remained as he opened his mouth to speak the truth. "M-my… My Sovereign, it is with a heavy heart that I admit t-that we have not taken control of the skies," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He inhaled as if gathering the remains of his shattered resolve before speaking again, "There is an omnipresent force, a pervasive gaze that finds all wherever they soar. It's as if…" Korthax paused as he gulped heavily, knowing his very life hinged on the whims of the ancient and whimsical entity before him. "It's as if… there's an all-seeing eye, watching everyone and everything."

"Our Dragons, our Wyrms, and even the Wyverns feel a prickling, unsettling itch that claws at their skin and senses," The General elaborated further with an almost incredulous look on his face. He couldn’t even believe his own words as they left his mouth.

The dragon's immense nostrils flared again, shooting flames as high as the ceiling as he listened to Korthax's faltering words. An unbearable heat emanated from the Sovereign's mouth as it moved its head closer. Its mouth opened slightly, promising a terryging inferno.

"An all-seeing eye?" An amalgamation of simmering and cracking plasma bubbled within the Dragon’s mouth as it spoke. "Do you take me for a fool? Do you expect me to swallow tales spun from your maddened mind, Korthax? You come here filled with stories of ghosts haunting the sky, believing I would heed such childish ravings?" Burgeoning rage filled the ancient being's voice.

Then, after a few moments of silence, The Sovereign raised their massive arm and unfurled a single taloned finger before deliberately pointing it directly at Korthax. "Hear me well, Korthax," The Dragon's eyes looked as if they were a portal to the infernal realm as they regarded the small, prostrating Dragonkin.

"I, the Grand Relor, Sovereign of the Empire, Servant of Emperor Varian, shall grant you the benefit of the doubt.” He said, rearing his head back and looking down at Korthax in disgust. “You shall get a sliver of my trust, a fragment of belief in your frantic utterances. I will Seek out these phantoms you speak of myself and see your ineptitude with my own eyes."

Relor’s face drew closer until Korthax could feel the searing heat of the dragon's breath, a furnace threatening to consume him in its fiery depths. "But know this, you pitiful shard of a once great lineage, if I find but a trace of deception in your words, a hint of delusion or incompetence..." The dragon's voice dropped to a growl, reverberating through Korthax's bones.

"I shall extend your life and set ablaze the very flesh that clings to your pitiful frame. I shall render your skin a canvas of agony and ruin. And you shall serve as a living testament to the price of falsehood and cowardice, a beacon of suffering for all to witness." The Sovereign's voice was a cataclysm, an apocalyptic that was less of a threat and more of a promise.

A moment hung between the two as Korthax took in the Sovereign's words. The sense of impending doom wasn’t the right combination of words to describe how the General felt. And if he was honest with himself, he didn’t think he knew if any words in any language existed to describe how one would feel with the promise of eternal torment hanging over them. Because he knew he was fully capable of doing just that.

"May the gods and Emperor have mercy upon your soul, Korthax, for I shall grant you none if your words prove empty," The unimaginably large Dragon decreed as its giant wings began to unfurl, expanding like the very heavens stretching to the very edges of the enclave.

With one ferocious downbeat, the Sovereign launched itself upwards, sending a vortex through the haven, turning it into a whirlwind of chaos. The roof of the enclave shattered and fragmented immediately under the sheer might of the Sovereign's ascent.

Catching the brunt of the gust, Korthax found himself head over heels, tossed about like a leaf in a storm before he careened straight out of the large ornate doors. His form finally came to a halt, just outside the Celestial Dragon’s sanctuary and into the camp proper.

After getting his bearing, the General stood up, dusted himself off, and looked skywards as he tried to shake off the dizziness. It didn’t take him long to refocus his eyes and see the Sovereign’s silhouette glowing radiantly from the sun’s reflected light as it shot toward the ominous rift on The horizon. The behemoth surged forward with a speed that defied its sheer size, each powerful beat of its wings propelling it faster, leaving a trail of scorching gold in its wake.

The tear in the fabric of reality itself was even more majestic as it played tricks on one’s eyes. At a glance, the two realms looked as if a tailor had seamlessly stitched them together. From one angle, the world presented its regular, sun-lit panorama, the familiar canvas of mountains and sky that Korthax had always known. Yet, barely a breath away, the other side of the rift bore the darkness of night, dotted with alien constellations that gleamed with an uncanny luminescence.

And as the Relor surged into that alien world, the ancient Celestial Dragon felt a pulse reverberating through the fabric of his ethereal being. This disturbance echoed within his very core. It was a sensation unlike any it had felt before, akin to an infinite amount of tiny pricks and prods stabbing the sinews of his anatomy.

Relor's nerves twitched with acute awareness, consciousness that the sky was no longer a sanctuary of open space and freedom. Each beat of his majestic wings seemed to stir the unseen forces following him everywhere. Relor could feel the whispers of this 'all-seeing-eye' brushing against its feathers. It was an insidious caress that sought to feel every inch of his being.

"My Sovereign!" A fearful cry suddenly punctuated the air.

Caught by surprise, Relor turned to see it was one of the Scaled Dragon thralls that bore the mark of subjugation and service. They were still a minor entity compared to the gargantuan Relor but were still formidable and capable of laying waste to armies or cities.

The scaled dragon spiraled upwards, its scales reflecting an array of twilight hues as it approached Relor with a frantic urgency. "You mustn't venture closer, mighty one! The mortals of the realm become stronger the further you venture from the rift! They see everything, feel everything!" Its voice started to break as it spoke in panic.

Stopping mid-flight, Relor turned his formidable gaze and locked eyes with the Scaled Thrall. He couldn’t believe a veritable slave would address him so flippantly. Glaring harshly at the offender, Relor decided to punish this one later for it’s insolence. For now, they were on a battlefield.

"Why should the dragons fear the mortals?" Relor's voice thundered, a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Since the dawn of time, we've soared the skies unchallenged. What strength do those beyond the rift possess?"

"They have woven a net across the sky, a net of metal and fire! It... it can see us, track us, hunt us," the smaller dragon stammered, but its voice gaining strength as he continued. "Their metal beasts roar with a fury that rivals the greatest storms, spitting deadly darts that pierce the scales and flesh of even the Wyrms!"

Relor's eyes were ablaze with a stubborn fire as it flicked around the battlespace with intense curiosity. The enormous feather dragon opened its mouth to reply but was suddenly interrupted as he felt a new and much more uncomfortable sensation.

Caught guard, Relor shifted in discomfort as dozens of significantly more focused... 'eyes' seemed to bore into his very soul. An electric crackle tinged the air, and the atmosphere grew thick with an unknown and alarming pulsating frequency. Every Dragon that littered the sky snapped their heads in different directions as their keen senses zeroed in on different sources of the concentrated intrusion.

Eyes widened, pupils dilated as their flight or fight response kicked in. It was apparent the strange sensation was just the prelude to those rumored lethal darts loosed by those metal beasts that were rumored to come.

Another, even smaller dragon's voice roared in an attempt to spur Relor into action. "My liege, we cannot remain here! Their aim is true, and their numbers are many!"

The skies immediately erupted into a chaotic dance as dragons, wyrms, and wyverns veered in every possible direction. It was a mesmerizing yet heart-wrenching sight as majestic beasts, known for dominating land, sea, and air, desperately twisted in the skies to evade whatever was careening towards them.

An echo of understanding flashed through Relor's ancient eyes as they narrowed and honed in on the distant horizon. There, the air was rife with the burning streaks of the darts, which moved at speeds that were impossible for anyone within the mortal realms to reach.

And just as the first darts closed in on the Draconics, Relor unleashed a power that only a few had ever seen and lived to tell the tale. The inside of his mouth glowed with the intensity of molten metal, a primordial heat that promised both creation and destruction. With a guttural roar, he released a plume of flame, but this was no ordinary fire. It bore the incandescent brilliance and heat of plasma, arching around him in a massive swath that stretched for hundreds of meters, consuming the darts in its wake.

Yet, for all of Relor's might, he could not shield everyone. The horde of wyverns were already disadvantaged by their diminutive stature and lack of robust defenses. They were hit the hardest, and many perished instantly upon contact, their bodies ripping apart in a blinding flash of light. Sturdier and more formidable Wyrms still suffered grievous wounds as their scales split apart and wings tore, but they were still able to survive the volley.

The Dragons, however, were still the apex of their kind. They were thrown off course, disoriented or even flinched at the explosion's shockwaves, but they were still flight and fight worthy.

Relor himself wasn't exempt from the barrage. Several of the darts managed to pierce his defenses, exploding against his thick feathers and causing him to growl in pain. But the mighty dragon was not one to be easily defeated. He pushed through the pain with an unwavering determination, his body surging forward with a burst of acceleration only dragons possessed.

"Quickly! Close the distance!" The Sovereign roared as his enormous frame suddenly accelerated forward at impossible speeds, defying the very nature of his colossal size. The gust of wind from his burst echoed like a thunderous clap, encouraging others to follow suit. As other dragons attempted to keep pace with their leader, the sky transformed into sea monsters, harnessing their innate power to reach a velocity that would otherwise seem unattainable.

With their eyes ablaze with fiery determination, they bore down upon the source of their torment. Just ahead, Relor finally spotted them. Hordes of metal beasts with wings of steel and hearts of fire hat spat death with unyielding precision.

But their attack hadn't gone unnoticed. As the dragons closed the gap, another volley of missiles erupted from the flying machines, targeting the soaring beasts with cold and calculated efficiency. The air became a storm of fire and metal, each side unleashing its fury in a desperate bid to overpower the other.

Realizing the raw power that surged towards them, the metal beasts attempted to break contact, their engines roaring to life in bright jets of flame as they climbed steeply or banked sharply, trying to keep the distance between themselves and the dragons. But they had underestimated the primal might and agility that fueled the dragon kind.

With a fierce cry, Relor led the charge. His mouth glowed like a forge, and a torrent of molten fire erupted, consuming the sky in hellfire. The flames enveloped the closest metal monsters in a fiery embrace, melting their cold, steel exteriors in mere seconds.

To their side, another dragon utilized its raw physical might, stretching its powerful limbs to seize one of the fleeing machines. With a fierce swipe, claws as hard as diamonds sheared through metal and machinery, ripping a wing off and sending it spiraling uncontrollably to the ground below. The machine became a tumbling mass of fire and debris, a testament to the dragon's unforgiving strength.

The sky became a canvas of chaos, roars of loud buzzing of strange alien weapons, swirls of fire, ice, or lightning, and blinding explosions lit up the night sky as the two groups merged. For every dragon that fell, a metal beast ended in a symphony of destruction. It was a battle that defied the realms of possibility, where ancient might meet modern steel in a clash that threatened to tear the very sky asunder.

Yet amidst the frenzy of destruction, a glimmer of unity emerged. Relor's commanding presence surged through every dragon, binding them as one, a living entity of flames and scales that made them operate with a collective will. They moved as a unit, a formidable force that wielded both elemental breath and flight with synchronized mastery.

The smaller dragon that had spoken earlier now found its voice again amidst the maelstrom, shouting instructions and encouraging its comrades with newfound bravery. The dragons began to utilize tactics they had never needed before, working together to outmaneuver and overwhelm the seemingly inexhaustible metal adversaries with their superior acceleration.

Relor could feel a unified pulse of intent and will flow between him and the flight of subjugated dragons. Together, they formed a living entity, a tapestry of flames and scales woven with a collective resolve to preserve their lineage and skies.

Yet, the metallic intruders also seemed to bear an eerie semblance of unity. Even when the dragons turned the bodies of the metal monsters into molten wrecks, the horde maintained their cruel, relentless assault, swooping in and retreating with cold precision.

From the eyes of the dragons, these flying beasts were devoid of life yet bore a sinister intelligence, a reflection of the merciless beings who seemingly forged them. The dragons could see how they capitalized on their distance, striking with their metal talons from afar and retreating before any dragon could reach them.

Everything flying above the clouds found themselves locked in a dance of death, and in the pulsating heart of the battle, Relor and his brethren fought with a primal fury that echoed the ancient battles of their ancestors. Their cries filled the sky, a symphony of raw power and determination reverberating across the heavens. Despite the ferocious onslaught, the dragons exhibited grace and harmony in their movements, a ballet of fire and wind that defied the metallic monsters that sought to control their skies.

Memories from battles of yore started to flood into Relor's mind. When kin clashed against kin, when feathers met scales in a whirlwind of fire and fury, those battles had been personal, a tumultuous struggle for power and dominion. But this... this was different. The metallic adversaries bore no emotion, no sentiment, no regret. They were instruments of destruction, each move calculated, each strike executed with an admirable and horrifying precision.

Relor roared angrily at the sight of these soulless mortal-built machines striking down his majestic people as if they were mere game. A blistering anger rose within him, an inferno threatening to consume his entire being. But within that anger lay a well of ancient determination capable of carving through valleys and sundering mountains.

Dragons and their Kin were the rightful rulers and caretakers of all the realms. They were the guardians of ancient lore, the keepers of mortals, creatures who graced the dreams and stories of the very beings that sought to refuse them arrogantly.

And as the metallic demons advanced, converging from the darkening horizon, an energy unfurled within Relor, ancient and untamed, rising like an invincible tide.

With his massive wings outstretched, Relor raised his head towards the heavens. From the depths of his soul, a roar resounded, echoing with magic that pulsed through time and space. It was a cry infused with the wisdom of the ancients, a harmonious blend of power and grace that sang the song of creation and echoed the heartbeat of the universe itself.

The dragons around him felt it – a resonance that struck deep, fusing with their very essence. It awakened a latent force within them, a wellspring of power that empowered their bodies and ignited a flame in their hearts that even death couldn't quell.

A golden aura radiated from the gargantuan feathered dragon, emitting a tangible energy that spread outwards in undulating waves, wrapping around every one of his kin in a warm embrace of light and might. Each dragon, each wyrm, and even each wyvern became a beacon, a luminous entity that echoed the golden fire burning within Relor. And with the Sovereign himself at the head of the pack, they strode forward towards the metal monsters, breathing fire upon the numerous deadly darts that hurtled towards them.