I had, at that point in my life, bedded well over a thousand different women. As such, I had a fair degree of experience at understanding the demeanours and desires of different women and how best to help them get what they want. While indulging in lust with a woman is a most delightful pastime, such undertakings often found themselves founded in the practicality of collecting Traits. However, some of the women in my life mean a great deal more to me than just a passing fancy and dalliance. And while I had only recently discovered her first name, Relarina had been the first girl that I had developed feelings for when I was still a boy.
Being a dragon, I do have some sort of supernatural ability to charm people, more akin to magical pheromones than invasive and unethical mind-magic. It helps me to get my foot in the door with people who would be of a persuasion to give me the time of day under the right circumstances, but it no more compels them to fall into bed with me than any other mundane actions one could take. Ergo, actual charm, wit, compassion, and respect were the tools I used for seduction.
In truth, as I interacted with her, my goal was not to trick her into bed with me, not that I would protest such an auspicious development. I aspired to help her feel comfortable, safe, and secure in the knowledge that her confidence in my discretion remained well-founded. I wanted to know about her, to hear where life had taken her and what trials, tribulations, and triumphs she had to her name. We talked for hours, for the night was yet young when we reunited and we had much to discuss.
Slowly, her guard lowered, but [Leadership] helped guide me and my decisions. Her behavior was akin to a dog with a ball, wanting it to be thrown, but unwilling to let go of it first. She wanted to be the aggressor in pushing things past platonic and into romance, yet she lacked the confidence to propel her forward. But ever as I am one to build the roads that allow people to travel to the destinations that hearts have in store for them, so too did I clear the path of any obstructions to her achieving her purpose for the night. While it may not have been her plan to dispose of her virginity when she woke up from her nap, the idea had found fertile ground in her mind as the hours passed, and it had borne fruit.
If anything, she had mostly shown signs of frustration at how timid she was in her approach. I could not close the distance between us, nor could I run away, for she did not want a chase. Patiently, I helped her find her resolve, for if she was the flower in a painting, I remained the frame that would help showcase her beauty. Inexorably, the distance between us, both physical and social, diminished over time, and with our initial and rather surprising hug being an outlier, she finally found herself in my arms as she made a move for a kiss as she stood on her tiptoes.
The flower in bloom yielded a bounty of confidence, and though beautiful to behold, she showed full well that she had her thorns. She was the one to push me onto the bed, and, like a dam had broken, her confidence swept me away as she took charge. Spirited in her resolve and vigorous in her pursuit, she made thorough and repeated forays into ensuring that she remained a maiden no longer.
While rough around the edges, I provided her with ample practice to refine her skills in being dominant in matters of romance. Personally, I have no strong preference of who is on top, for I just want my partner to be happy, and so it was on her satisfaction that I focused. Such was rewarded in kind, for my attentiveness to indulging the curiosities of her fantasies only served to spur her on and invoke in her a desire to reciprocate. She did not have the stamina to indulge in each and every fantasy that her mind had concocted, but we made good progress on discovering what worked well in theory and what worked well in practice. Pillow talk helped ease her frustration at how her spirit, ever willing, found itself in excess of her body, which tired. Her appetite, once whetted, only craved more and more, and while I remained happy to provide, I encouraged her to accept her limits for now, with the promise that she would one day surpass them.
I reassured her that I enjoyed her company and that I looked forward to spending more time with her, always presenting it to her as an option at her discretion, that no coercion, compulsion, or presumption was placed upon her or the assumption that the future would have such in store for us. We both knew we could die tomorrow or the day after, for the incursion of the enemy into our world was nigh. I will not go into the full details of what we talked about or what acts of passion we indulged in, for it is not polite to kiss and tell, but rest assured, she found herself chasing the dragon and what I had to offer.
Banners flapped about in the fresh morning air, the fickle wind whipping them about indiscriminately. The banners in turn reflected the boons granted by the standards, those in turn held by the aquilifers, and the mortal men and women gathered benefited from the standards. These were no levies, conscripts, or fantassins, but professional soldiers and seasoned veterans, the best the world had to offer. Disciplined, resolved, and well-aware of the stakes, their morale remained high, even in the company of what would normally be considered adversaries.
The most obvious were the undead. Legions upon legions of undead remained silent sentinels of the mortal world, the Bone Temple Pilots numbering around 10,000 strong, the immortal defenders of our world. For when one skeletal soldier became rendered unto dust through the violence of battle, another remained ready to take its place. A large contingent of them were concerned with retrieval of the equipment of their erstwhile compatriots, for while undead bodies could easily be replaced, their equipment could not. The remainder served as fodder for the meat grinder, tasked with keeping the swarm of the enemy at bay, as few living beings would be able to venture close to the portal once it activated and the aura of decay spilled through.
Less obvious were dragons, for many remained in mortal form so as to obfuscate their presence from both enemies and allies alike. Being immortal, sans gruesome and violent deaths, their minds remained aware of a time after the war when old grudges would spark anew. Their identities, and the secrecy thereof, remained rather important to them, for unlike those of my flight, they preferred to remain incognito.
A more surprising but no less worrisome collection of allies had marched in last night. The Boys had snuck out while I was distracted with my attention on a certain elf, and they had been here at World’s Hope and singing into the night. Their song was not so loud that I heard it all the way at World’s End, but apparently, those notes carried far and wide to every hydra. I suspect some supernatural shenanigans were at play to help them arrive so quickly, for I would eventually receive reports that hydras as far away as The Rainbow Bridge had heeded the summons of their [Herald of the New Age].
They were, fundamentally, wild creatures. As magical beasts, they are smarter than mere animals, but they lack the manners and docility that comes with domestication. While they did not attack anyone, few dared approach them, and they in turn kept their distance as best they could from anyone who was not dedicated to interacting with them. A quick scrounging of [Beast Handlers] and other people with similar Blessings became a pivotal concern as they were invited or press-ganged into service.
The hydras took position around the perimeter, their backs against the high road. Their breath attacks were second only to dragons, at least as far as most people are concerned, but with their above-average number of heads compared to most creatures, they packed a lot of firepower. 12 9-headers, each one of them ancient and powerful, remained the lynchpin of what they had to offer. Each one was escorted by around half a dozen 8-headers and a cadre of 7-headers, each of which was no pushover. A hydra with 6 heads was considered a full and mature adult, so by comparison, The Boys were the plucky teenagers chosen to be the heroes of their kind. Countless more hydras with any number of heads less than 7 and greater than 3 were present, and they mostly filled in where they could.
I imagine many wondered how we would feed such beasts, for many were quite massive, the tallest of which was easily over 15 stories high without stretching its necks to their limit. Everyone present would come to find the grim truth that the abundance of food would scarcely be an issue, and likewise, we would find that some hydras specialized in eating corpses and safely regurgitating the bones and equipment that corpses tend to have. The enemy would try to collect their dead, but if we had our way, the biomass would be collected and used to feed the gathered masses of bottomless pits that dwell within the bellies of hydras. The fact that mortal defenders would likewise share the equally unceremonious fate as their adversaries helped to redouble the resolve of the mortal defenders to not die.
Stolen novel; please report.
I am certain that many Adventurers were calculating the rough math of how many millions of gold-worth of hydra body parts were available, assuming the market did not crash, which it certainly would if the hydras were harvested. However, I made it inescapably clear as to how the hydras were protected and not to be harmed, ‘accidentally’ or otherwise.
Adventurers were but a paltry sum of those gathered in terms of the quantity of mortals present, but through quality, they represented perhaps a third of our military might. The Platinums were going to shoulder the lion’s share of the burden, for they were both powerful and specialized enough to actually make a big impact. The Diamonds were mostly in reserve or performing support, for, to showcase all of our forces and Abilities so early in the war would play right into the hands of our enemy.
Kobolds, a race that normally did not settle in conventional society, found themselves just about everywhere. They were here to support us, their choirs singing hymns to bolster both morale and the Abilities of the troops. They also handled all the grunt work and cleaning, for the battle would rage eternal. Blood and guts that made for treacherous footing would not clean themselves off the battlements. Each flight brought forth a large contingent of such loyal retainers, and while I thought I had many kobolds loyal to me, they still remained a minority compared to those in service to all the flights as a whole.
Each flight also constructed their own bastions and armories around World’s Hope. While Kings and Princes would find death to be but a temporary obstacle, Dukes and lower found no such inherent protection, and thus were at the mercy of their respective flight to source resurrection via coveted eggs. A dragon can only produce eggs so fast, and eggs need time to mature to the required peerage to either create new offspring or to revive the dead. Each dragon can also only maintain so many eggs at once, and thus the privilege of resurrection remained at a premium. The worthy would rise, and those wanting would find themselves forgotten.
And while the hydras were a surprise, but not completely unprecedented, considering the battle in the swamp, other allies arrived, although in fewer numbers. While generic phoenixes are a rare beast, similar in power to hydras, the Phoenix titan himself had arrived, the legendary quetzalcoatlus that, as fables go, is said to have never touched the ground. Sulemani, the ever-hungry Sky Whale, reminiscent of a sperm whale, had also arrived, his form enveloped by clouds of thunder. I suspect he was here for the free food more than anything. Same could be said for Jorōgumo and Tsuchigumo, the spider titans that were the progenitors of every known spider-beast out there. I thought they would be bigger, but both were perhaps the size of a rhinoceros.
These titans were wildcards, and while they each had a long history that could span a large volume of books, none were known for such levels of destruction as Hercules and Heracles, the hydra titans. However, those two were dead, sorta, and thus could not attend in person. However, with so many hydras abounding, it did not remain unreasonable that they would lend their heads to their progeny that had gathered here.
More beasts were also present, the variety too large to recount in full. I was not the only person who had tamed beasts, and many people were present with their trusty and bestial companions. Other flights also brought forward their own private armies and coteries of assassins that presumably lurked among us, ready to strike like a knife in the night to counter enemy assassins. Artifacts of war, each one a relic and a mystery to all but the initiated, were dusted off and brought to the fore.
Most of my companions were with me as well. Nabonidus remained concealed, stashed away in one of the secret rooms, with a few Jerichos to guard him. I had stationed whelps with him, that he may theoretically dispatch them to collect information and communicate with me. Such would be pivotal to his ability to see the future and collect information necessary to guide me. With the use of the right codewords, he could commandeer any resources at my disposal, and even order suicidal missions. There existed an understanding that he would use the authority entrusted to him to scout the future, or, if the worst should come, to save us.
Alterez likewise remained safe, as he led an army of [Cooks], [Chefs], and other such individuals of the culinary persuasion to keep this army fed. Some two-million mortal defenders and their associated supporters and beasts were present, and they all had bellies that needed to be filled with sustenance. Also, he would be my director on counter-cult operations, for the enemy would surely find a way to stir unrest in the world’s population and conduct terrorism.
Jericho remained in reserve, for while copies of her were secreted away so that at least one would survive, a tide of Jerichos could be dispatched to plug any breaches at a moment’s notice. She would perform the bulk of the fighting for my flight, for my flight found itself severely lacking in martial prowess.
Skull could not venture far from me, and she remained my personal bodyguard. I could not safely venture into battle, for in terms of direct combat, I was not on par with even the Kings of most flights, and I was too large and juicy of a target to be risked.
Gambino and Bambina had their hands full keeping my kobolds in check. They too needed to eat and sleep, and kobolds had a separate chain of command and a separate system of logistics to see themselves properly cared for. Most people don’t really know where kobolds live or how kobolds get their food, they just know kobolds seemingly pop out of nowhere to perform some tasks and then leave. The kobolds of the other flights also needed to coordinate with ours, and so, generally speaking, Bambina managed my kobolds while Gambino handled diplomacy.
Torborg, Bellwright, It-Has-Pockets, and Chooka were presumably potential companions, but none of them yet had a bond of blood with me. Torborg would be safe in the bowels of World’s Hope, for while he was no [Enchanter], he could help ensure all the machinery down there worked as intended, which mostly concerned machines that converted energy from one medium to another. It-Has-Pockets would stay on the battlements to support the troops with her dancing to boost both morale and combat prowess, a fairly safe gig. Bellwright would be a chauffeur, one that could expect to be shot at religiously, and so he would not find himself bored as he offered support to the troops. Chooka remained safe at World’s End. Paperwork still needed pushing, especially in times of war, and contracts had to be drawn up and fulfilled to ensure everything ran smoothly. My one and only Imperial Whelp remained by her side, my extra security to ensure that no harm befell her.
There were few crixtali and saurkin allies present. In part, there just were not many of them to begin with, and also, they were still very busy settling in. Polemarch Kirov remained at the command center with me, which was on the top floor of the northern high road. There were a few big dinosaurs out there, each one as much a work of art as they were a beast of war, their armor and decorations both intimidating and inspiring to the troops that were certainly glad that said dinosaurs were not the enemy. Like the hydras, they mostly operated in the roles of support or artillery, with very few among them serving as elite calvary.
Everyone knew, in a general sense, what was coming. Information had been disseminated throughout the ranks, drills had been exercised for months on end up to this point, supplies had been collected and distributed, and inspiring speeches had been delivered. At this point, most people were just eager for the incursion to commence and see where the dice fell. There was little more we could prepare without knowing exactly what the enemy would do. Half of our manpower found themselves on duty, with the other half somehow expected to rest and be prepared to take over later.
Everyone knew that the battle would be brutal, that many would perish, and that the fallen would offer one final service with a tribute of their bones to the Skeleton War. We stood ready, for all predictions and calculations pointed to the portal opening within the next hour or two. My biggest problem was a grumbling Demon that muttered stuff about “back in my day” and such, for The Pacifist could not effectively be corralled away from me. He had somehow weaseled his way into the command center, perhaps through a failure in operations security or through intimidation. No other Demons were known to be here, but the world was large, and many minor and temporary incursions could crop up seemingly anywhere, and so, many more defenders of our mortal world were out there to search and destroy.
My two children, Kaisadoro and Tamadora, were here as well, mostly to observe, for they were not even close to being on par with true Kings. They both felt out of place and nervous, for while they were big fish in the small pond of World’s End, they were little more than guppies amongst megalodons here in the command center where Emperors and Kings gathered.
The battle started before anyone even knew it. Nabonidus had sent me a message, one that inspired me to hasten away. My attention had been stretched thin, my [Parallel Minds] only able to keep up with so much of what was happening around me, that I lost focus on one thing that truly mattered.
Inquisitive and judgemental gazes be damned, I rushed out of the command center with Nanu in tow, leaping off the perch specifically designed for big dragons to take flight. Nanu shifted her form, and I rode on her back, my body merely going through the motions as my focus and control shifted elsewhere. I sent Tamadora to fetch Alterez and follow after with all haste.
Safeguards had been in place to mitigate the unlikely into the realm of improbable, but something had gone terribly awry. No, not just some accident, but certain people had already betrayed us all. My draconic rage was stirred, mercy placed in irons and arrested while what was mine became threatened.
And with a thought, I assumed direct control of my Imperial Whelp, for the love of my life found herself in mortal peril.
