There were no battle cries for this fight, against the restless dead there was little meaning in morale boosting cheers or mocking chants to unnerved the opposing side. The dead did not care. They were coming and to live, you fought. This was a simple, undeniable truth that each lizardfolk, kobold, dragonfolk and dragon understood as they face the slow shambling horde. There would be no mercy given or offered, no parley to surrender. Just a fight to survive.
None knew when it had begun, but those that would survive to tell the tale later on would all agree that their leaders. A kobold named Kobolicus, a dragonfolk called Osilliaice and their mistress, Destorianaxe, stormed the horde first. Framed by her children, Destorianaxe scrambled down the slope a true dragon fearing neither the living or the dead. Her claws, her tail, even her jaws all came into play tearing through the undead ice statues, shattering not only the frozen exterior but butchering the frozen flesh within. Those things that first met her charge were scattered like rows of nine pins bowled over, high into the air.
To her right, the dragonfolk general Osilliaice laid into her enemies with crushing force, unlike the Mistress she lacked the strength to bowl over entire swarms of opposition but what she lacked in raw draconic power it was said to be made up in skill. Her spear shone in the waning light of the day, flashing back and forth swatting the chilly, undead soldiers from her presence. The spear shone in 5hexwaning light shattering icy shells and then breaking the corpses beneath, unlike Destorianaxe though, she was having far greater issues keeping the horde from reforming around her.
Opposite her on Destorianaxe's left, Kobolicus was much like the dragon, his every strike shattered his foes tossing the lucky ones back in the horde but knocking others down to be trampled under the relentless march. It wasn't only Kobolicus' spear however, his fists struck the undead foes with all the force of the dragon beside him, often shattering not only the icy shell but also blasting the body within to pieces. Even more brutal than the dragon, the over sized kobold danced through the horde like a whirlwind, the path of his destruction was no less than the dragon nearby.
The remaining lizardfolk and kobolds had steeled their resolve and followed like a tide, swarming into the relentless army like they were possessed. While they lacked the strength of Destorianaxe, the finesse of Osilliaice or the raw brutality of Kobolicus, the tales spoke of how brothers and sisters all charged forth to support their leaders, living against the dead. The tales spoke of many heroes that died that day, supporting kin and leaders but the true tales spoke of the trio that waded deep into enemy lines cutting a trail of bodies through the icy army.
The stories told of the dedicated push through the shambling horde, the trio tearing through the masses fighting tooth, nail and spear to reach the enemy queen. Dragon against phoenix, the icy bird tore scales and flesh from Destorianaxe as her teeth and claws left bloody trails upon its slender body. Kobolicus and Osilliaice faced against the ice queen, meeting her spells of ice with the dignity that mates should. Some false tales spoke how the ice queen had once been a concubine of Kobolicus, a dear friend who lost her way, but historians discounted these tales. Who would believe an elf would ever share the life of a kobold?
No, these claims were denied and buried, too much whimsy for drunken bards the thought that three lovers would bring blade versus spell, fighting each other under a rising moon. Too much Dwarven beer such drama!
No, it was a crazy elf seeking the frozen powers of the phoenix that they faced, fighting desperately to lay low the mistress of ice that had sent an army of frozen troops to lay waste to Mistress and kin. It was under the darkest of nights that Destorianaxe prevailed, her kin rejoicing as she tore the feathered head from its winged body, drinking deeply of its blood and feasting upon its powers. The stories then spoke of how she gave kin, one and all, the blood and meat to sup upon in their victory. For 8n the felling of the winged beast the horde toppled like puppets cut from their dancing strings.
Some tales say this is where the vile queen met her end, though the tales vary. Some say she died ranting and raving, her gnarled fingers reaching out to choke her killer. Others spoke of her hair changing color with her eyes, as if a wintery fog had left a green pasture, it was in this moment that Kobolicus and Osilliaice struck in that moment of confusion laying the ice queen low, these tales said she herself was but a puppet under the birds wiles.
It is the more obscure bards that spoke of a third ending, the bird was slain by Destorianaxe but as it fell a spirit rushed from its torn breast, it made the queen falter pushing her into the spears of the lovers Kobolicus and Osilliaice. These fanciful tales spoke of how Kobolicus fell cradling a head of wheat colored hair, looking into the queens eyes as she laid dying. Osilliaice stood over, mourning the loss of the elven woman who had once been her friend.
It was here that Kobolicus seemed to see something, the spirit of the monstrous bird carried off the spirit of the elven woman vanishing from the trial grounds. With resolution in his eyes Kobolicus took his mates hand and tore reality asunder, disappearing from the annals of history. Destorianaxe would search high and low for her children but would not find them, in truth many tales ended the same way with Kobolicus leaving our tribes, raising up our great Mistress before the Dragon God as the kobold hero disappeared into the wilds to allow us to grow knowing out there, somewhere, Kobolicus was waiting to be called forth once more.
It is with pride, I, Gruk High Keeper do finish the History of Destorianaxe, let our history show to all races that a kobold could grow beyond mortal means and leave a note on history that can rival any human knight, elven mage or Dwarven smith.
* * * * *
Elsewhere a kobold gripped the hand of a dragoness, each held a spear as they strode through a roaring storm. Hand in hand they trudged through the relentless sleet that poured down from the dark mire that should have been the sky. The dragoness had her arm up, shielding her eyes from the mess that fell, gripping her mates fist. Her friends blood still coated his fingers, the shame of striking down Alustriea when the ice phoenix had been vanished was still fresh in his hard set eyes.
While she mourned the loss of a sister, she felt her love had set his own expectations too high. Alustriea had fallen, their spears had found purchase in her chest when the influence of the monstrous bird had been disrupted. Could he be blamed for her stutter and not blocking their strikes in mortal combat? It was terrible but he should let it go, yet he insisted he saw her ghost clutched in the talons of the phoenix dragged back towards this quasi elemental plane of ice.
Osilliaice had not seen what he had done but she had felt his bloodlust, he was literally dripping with killing intent as he reached out and tore a hole in the air. Grabbing her hand he had brought her along. Now, much like the icy basin they were hurrying across an endless icy waste through a storm of sleet and snow that threatened to bury them if they held still. Xing Lei seemed to know where he was going so she clutched his hand and let him draw her along.
Looking into the blinding storm she silently prayed that where ever they were headed was warm, while her cultivation shrugged off most of the icy winds and freezing weather, she could feel it deep in her bones, this was not a land for mortals and living beings, would they find answers here or would they join their unfortunate sister in the afterlife?
Xing Lei himself wasn't sure. Looking into Alustriea's emerald eyes as her life blood poured in wide rivers from the two spears skewering her chest he only knew that she had not deserved this. Dragged along on his journey to the apex to be laid low in such a way enfuriated him. Even more so when the spirit of the phoenix had flown by and snatched the last glimmers of life from the sad, loving eyes of his wife. He did not know if Alustriea could be saved, but if nothing else he wanted to rip that monstrous chicken apart with his own hands much as Destorianaxe had!
Dragging Osilliaice on this fools errand had been an instinct, something in told him he would want to bring her along, but he felt her hand so cold in his, the elemental city was this way but could they reach it before his mate froze to death? Was that gut feeling he had truly his or had that devil bird bewitched his mind and forced his other love along merely to ensure his punishment complete?
No! The city was close! He didn't know how he knew but he just did. Once there he would face this elemental lord and save his wife and they would be together again forever more!