To Claim a Future (Risk Event)

With the monsters about and the Imperium narrowed down to few members they fled to the Ebonwing Isles, a less dangerous place to remain for the time being. Since then, everyone had been on edge so assumed a dragon. He certainly was, and he needed a plan to further secure the future of the EarthWings if not the entirety of the Twilight Imperium. Once such a mighty force now cut down to said members, one of them unfortunately the Ebon Archon, Tenebris of the Twilight. But even then it was a miracle he survived, most likely the dragon assumed that Tenebris kept other Night Kin in check which in its self served a purpose.

Ragnarok had been flying for only a few minutes, looking for a place to rest his old bones. Well, rather his aching muscles. He had been training his body to reach a top prime, granted he couldn't obtain the strength he once had, the old dragon still needed to be in tip top shape as a Royal Guard. Ever since the monster attack he'd been weaker than ever, he couldn't defend against a serpent like he did other dragons back in the day so he needed to push. Now that he found some of his old strength Ragnarok wasn't a pushover. His muscles had become bulkier and he could fly and run better. Now all that was left was to secure the future for his king, Baldirak Sapiens of the Twilight.

But recently the thought came to mind; what if Ragnarok could secure the protection of the EarthWings? What if he could create dragons, train them enough to be skilled to defeat anyone, to protect their sovereigns from any threat? All for the glory of the Imperium. All for the glory of Earth King Baldirak. Ragnarok was strict and fiercely loyal, and once that idea popped in his head he wanted to implement it, but where to start? Surely there was a place to train those dragons away from any distractions of the Imperium.

As the Royal Guard flew he found it, the place of training. One of the four clustered islands he saw one of length, and decided that it would be the place for his own group. He soared over the tree covered landscape, seeing it was mostly mounds and cliffs the island itself went on an incline, waterfalls and small lakes hidden in the thick woods were easy to spot overhead, and it even looked like there were old stone buildings reclaimed by the flora of the land. It was beautiful and lush to say the least. It was perfect for Ragnarok's plan.

The Royal Guard landed at the edge of the cliff, gaining his footing at his claws elongated and allowed him a firm grip on the earth below until he stood on his two legs. Unlike most dragon, Ragnarok was bipedal, allowing him to tower over others. He retracted his claws and began to walk forward, relaxed but not too much that his defense was completely lowered. He was ready for a fight, alert to many sounds but also ready to discover what wonders are awaiting for him.

[I have chosen for you to fight one of the remnants of the Human army what originally conquered the Earthwing lands. Enjoy yourself xD]

While the vast majority of the Island was abandoned and reclaimed by nature itself in an ambiguous nature, long decrepit ruins overtaken by bright crimson wildflowers hint to a much darker past, this Island like many of the archipelago off the Western Coast of Earthwing Territory was a battlefield during the Human Crusade against the Earthwing Tribe of Dragons. The Island itself seemed to be a faded yet living memory of the tragedies of this past, the land was undoubtedly fertile from the countless numbers what had lost their lives. Decrepit remnants of the Human war machine remain as evidence to their destructive onslaught, the crippled fragments of Ballista and trebuchet resonate across the land as cataclysmic monuments to the Earthwing suffering at the hands of Humanity.

Not only the dead and broken remain as a remnant of the past however, to the far southern coast of the Island remains another scar of the war. Rising above the flat ground of the southern part of the Island stands the motte and bailey of Stalwart, an old fortification which was originally created by the Human Crusades to become one of the many Crusader States by the Human expansion and resettlement of the Earthwing lands, cut off from the Humans of their homeland in Leostonnia following the reconquest of the Earthwing lands by the Imperium, this minor Castle had been seen as merely a insignificance and left to his own devices.

Aged yet not particularly strong, Stalwart's stone keep sits on a hill with a flattened top, along with a watchtower rising fifty feet higher. Below the hill is a bailey containing stables, paddock, smithy, well, and sheepfold. They are defended by a ditch, earthen dikes, and a palisade of logs. Stalwart's mossy outer walls are protected by two square towers and wallwalks. Outside of the Bailey is a small community of around fifty peasants who have etched a living here on the Island as settlers following the establishment of the fort by their now self proclaimed liege, Lord Yorwick. East and west of the small village are fields of oats and barley with several farmsteads.

From even below the forested canopy of the Island’s woodland did the Yeoman Hunters of Stalwart see the gigantic form of a Dragon land upon the Cliffs of the North, immediately they would take flight upon their destriers, riding back hard to the seat of their Lord. The challenge of the Dragon was of no shock to the people of Stalwart, they had been fighting for their lives from the moment all contact with Leostonnia was broken. Taking advantage of the precious time granted to them by the Dragon examining the Island upon its rocky outlook upon the Northern Cliffs, the clarion call would be sounded by the Lord.

The muster took no time at all, the Humans of Stalwart having been drilled and battle hardened from numbers of incursions from both Dragon and Monster alike onto this Island home. Lance pennants would fly carrying the heraldry of Yorwick, a white boar upon a Crimson field, as a number of twenty Knights mounted their colourfully caparison armoured Driestiers alongside their Lord Yorwick. A further Twenty Yeomen mounted upon lesser breed steeds wielding crossbows and Polearms would supplement the Knight Cavalry.

This mixed Cavalry would split itself on to the flanks of the larger host of infantry. Fifty men-at-arms in gambersons andiron-rimmed helms wielding spears and kite shields would make up the bulk, augmented by ten foot Knights serving as officers and a further thirty peasant militiamen and thirty Longbow men. Finally supporting the host would be two warwolf Trebuchets and four Springald Ballista manned by Militiamen.

Horns would ring out as this Host would bound forth from Stalwart, marching to the sound of war drums and calls of clarion heroes eager for the honour and glory of slaying a Dragon. The mustard forces would assemble themselves with fully plated Knights and chainmail Yeomen split on the flanks of the force, its infantry in the centre and behind its artillery. Adorning the Trebuchets would be skulls of much smaller Dragons, perhaps trophies from slaying the Earthwing Hatchlings of old what would of populated this Island before the War. The Veteran Leostonnian Crusaders would slowly move towards the wooded forest hoping to march their army closer through the wooded canopy unseen to get closer to the Dragon’s location upon the cliff, unless of course the veteran Earthwing in turn spotted the amassed incest like humans approaching from the South into the tree’s first while they still crossed the earthy mounds and rolling hills.

Ragnarok grew closer to the woods but as he did there was an odd noise. When he looked to the South he began to see figures, through the woods and out to the open. Several men turned into an army of men, somewhere over a hundred if he saw it right. Ragnarok had heard about how the EarthWings and the humans waged war with man coming up top, unfortunately he had missed that due to his imprisonment but it was all past now. And right now the royal guard has a new problem.

The royal guard never wanted to kill any humans though he didn't care for them. It was more or less he had wished by now humans and dragons would simply share a truce or peace but it would never happen. Even after the monsters it would never come to be. Clearing his mind Ragnarok immediately put all concentration into one goal whether it meant a future or avenging his brethren earth kin. The goal was simple: eradicate the humans from this island.

The large bipedal dragon bellowed a war cry that shook the very ground, but instead of the usual dragons roar his was... twisted. It sounded like multiple creatures screaming at once, it made him sound more of a demon than a dragon. But as the humans would grow closer he doubt their pride would be hindered. If his disturbing appearance and glowing red eyes didn't affect them, then perhaps the roar wouldn't either. After all it was merely a warning, letting the humans know they were dealing with a different kind of dragon.

With a great flap, Ragnarok took to the air only to flap in the same spot gaining height further until he could only assume where the army was. That's when he simply stopped moving his wings and let gravity carry him down right on top of where the army was, or maybe part of it if he were correct. And with that he landed on the ground, crashing unto the earth with his feet still standing. The earth shook violently as quaks made their way across the island, any fool close would have either been injured or dead.

Ragnarok however groaned granted it sounded like a growl. The way he landed on his feet or crashed on them did hurt his back some, maybe he was getting too old? He took to the air again with a mighty flap. This time it was slower as it did take some energy for the flying and dropping, however this was going to be much different.

Horns and drums sounded as the Human host came to a halt, the ferocious war cry of the Dragon radiated throughout the surrounding area and permeated through the ranks of the Humans. Many of the older veterans out of the men at arms knew what was about to transpire, and through grim faces they readied themselves, while the peasant militia almost immediately at the horrifying sound began to mumble and few lowered their primitive polearms looking for possible exits to fleet, but at this wavering the Warden officers of the Men at arms and the foot Knights immediately barked orders, one even threatening the ill prepared peasants with an arming sword brandished to the throat of a wavering Militia man. The host stared in awe as the colossal shape of the Dragon rose from its perch into the sky above.

Many men rose their hands to shield their eyes as they looked up, attempting to view the Dragon as it flew high beyond the clouds, the host was stirring and voices rang out throughout the ranks to steady themselves. Before the shape of the Dragon then came crashing down through the clouds. A great shadow would seem to consume the centre of the army at the Dragons plummet, and while horns sounded for arrows to be notched at the rear ranks of the host, the centre was in a flurry of movement, even veterans faltered as they knew the immediate threat as they attempted to urge their comrades out of the radius of the shadow, yet the close ranks provided little maneuverability. Moments before the inevitable screams of horror would emit from both veteran and conscript alike as the mass turned into a mad scramble to save themselves.

The plummet into the ranks was as though a devastating act of nature, into the centre of the ranks of men-at-arms and militia the Dragon savagely crashed amongst them, its colossal size instantly killing Fifteen of the men at arms and a further ten of the militia peasants. The sheer force and quake what radiated knocked many others to the ground in the immediate area, the most steel hearted of the Veterans would react of instinct, throwing their spears and polearms towards the massive beast despite the lack of efficiency to such a beast of its size. The surviving militia men immediately were put to freight, and with the ranks in now turmoil found their owning to flee, casting their weapons to the ground as they fled.

It was as the Dragon rose that opportunity presented itself, at the Dragons slow ascent once more into the sky, the drums and horns once more began to come to life, from the flanks of the host the Knights and Yeomen bellowed car cries and orders. In an instant the notched arrows of the longbowmen would be released in a torrent fury of arrows, each arrowhead being tipped barbed with neurotoxin on orders to aim for the wing membrane. Should they strike home, while it would be hours for the neurotoxin to take effect on such a large creature it would be only a matter of time. In unison with the volley of arrows, so did all four of the Springald Ballista fire, each one with three bolts at a length of five foot, barbed and also dosed in the same neurotoxin fly forth towards their intended target with a furious force.

As Ragnarok flew high into the air, finding a strong beat that allowed him to gain more air he began to charge up a a ranged attack gathering the energy for it. He could feel a flurry of arrows pelt against his form, luckily he had several layers of scales that protected from such things save for his wing membranes. It was then he felt multiple hard hits, larger arrows digging into his body. When they did so there were able to penetrate the first and second layers of scales but stopped barely through the third and final layer, some actually breaking through and dug slightly into his flesh. He saw where the ballista's were shooting from just barely.

The dragon felt some form of pain, however as he charged his attack he mused at the arrows and ballista bolts that shattered at his armor though one of them got dangerously close to his right eye. He could feel some of the smaller arrows dig into the softer portion of his right wing, the membrane. It was much like a bee sting to that of a human, if the bee's stung multiple times. It had been a near minute now and the glow of the energy was near blinding, it covered his face and upper torso. He barely could see pass his own light, but to the corner of his eye he spotted an object. The more Ragnarok looked the more he could make out a castle. A human castle.

And then came the second a set of ballista bolts nearly got his eye. The Royal Guard realized he was still facing a for and that he shouldn't underestimate them. Two minutes now, the attack was ready, but how to strike? He could use it in a beam form but he could miss a valued target if the explosion didn't hit, it he could shoot it off into two separate orbs which would maximize the damage to the area... tree's can always grow back. Firing off the collected energy, a massive beam erupted from his mouth aimed at the position of the first ballista area. And then he guided the beam where the others were. Ragnarok did this until the energy was depleted, the while twenty seconds of it at least.

What followed right after contact of the beams were a large explosion, a massive burst of green flame from the ground. The parts of the major forest that were in the area was lit ablaze by the green sheet of of flames, engulfing and spreading across the surrounding area. The attack took some power from Ragnarok, but nonetheless he'd need to march forward and deliver a message that he was a dragon, and that none shall be spared.

The dragon dropped from the sky again, thus time from a higher distance. He crashed to the ground on his two feet, another set of quakes breaking the ground even further. This time his back was numb, a sharp pain up the spine and then a static feel. He put aside the feeling and looked to the castles direction. Tensing up his legs, he began to run, then he picked up speed. 20 mph, 40, 50, and he grew faster and closer to the castle. The Royal Guard doubt that there would be much of a challenge ahead, he'll just need to see what the humans had in store for him. His goal? To ram through any barriers and the castle itself. That would put fear into them and perhaps then the humans would grow wise from destruction and flee... or it would only bolster them and cause even more foolish attempts.

((I'ma bump this, it's been a bit))

The host continued their relentless flurry of arrows and ballista as they saw the great Dragon writhed within the skies above, at first the infantry saw the Ballista bolts and arrows hit their marks and cries of triumph began to fill the ranks as even Lord Yorwick thought the battle was near its end, and that the beast would soon plummet to the earth brought low before the might of humanity, it would then be of little effort to then subdue the beast and slay it with pike and lance once it was brought to the ground. Yet unknownst to the host, it was but a false omen to the true climax of the battle.

In a blinding light, energy burst forth from the Dragon above, and in an unbridled torrent of ruin, the Ballista and catapults of the army burst into a violent explosion which eradicated all near by operators of the war machines. Men cried out in horror at the sheer power unleashed as carnage broke amongst the ranks as flames spread from the impact, the blaze catching to the nearby forest. Even the most veteran of men at arms began to break ranks and flee, even as their comrades, burnt, wailing with intense agony as flame danced across them, the gambesons they wore with pride to make their service to their noble lord was their end, as those proud colours caught flame, melting the fabric to their flesh.

While those closest to the war machines who were not killed in the initial blast now writhed in pain in a symphony of torment and anguish, the rest of the men-at-arms began fleeing as once more the colossal dragon crashing into the ground once more, massacring those unlucky enough to be within immediate area of its landing. Seeing the carnage wrought the ranks truly broke, men began fleeing into the canopy of the nearby forest even as it caught flame, even whilst knowing that many of them would no doubt meet their end to the fury of the ensuring blaze within or the suffocation of the deadly fumes and smoke.

As the Dragon began its mad dash towards Stalwart, only the Knights which were on either side of the host stood firm, having sworn their oaths of chivalry and honour. A horn bellowed as both flanks began rushing to the centre in pursuit of the Dragon, a mad haste that they could stop the rampage, even as their horses, the greatest desiers bred from Leostonnia failed them compared to the speed of the Dragon. Yet even then knowing they pushed themselves relentlessly to catch up with the great beast even as the hooves of their steeds crushed fallen and dying comrades beneath them, they knew fine well that they would be Stalwarts last hope.

Lady Yorwick stood at the battlements of the keep, her daughter clutched to her side as they watched the devastation within the distance. The proud lady of Stalwart weeped without relent, she wanted to be strong for her daughter, for her people, but as she saw the encroaching shape of the fierce monster what charged toward the Hamlet regret filled her, regret that she had not immediately evacuated the hold having to much faith in her beloved husband, regret that now her people and her land which was to become a colony free of the oppression of the Leostonnia crown would crumble like a faint distant dream, and most importantly that her own daughter would never see her fifth named day. She stared down at the innocent young girl who was far to naive and curious to understand the harsh realities upon them, she was more mesmerised at the premise of a live Dragon from her tutors books what depicted them. Lady Yorwick lost all grace as she dropped to her knees grasping her daughter in a long hug. "Mommy, why are you crying?".

The Master-At-arms of the Keep, rallied what remaining guards there was within the Courtyard of the Motte and bailey, there was very little, just enough to man the two remaining Ballista what stood upon the meagre watch towers within alongside the wooden palisade of logs, those which hadn't already fled to the forest from the Hamlet at the first signs of destruction at the far away host assembled within the courtyard and along the wallwalks, many with pained expressions and unrelenting cries of anguish, knowing that, brothers, fathers and husbands had no doubt already perished within the far off onslaught. A priest of the Light began preaching the last prayers of the living, a death hymn rung out throughout stalwart, as women and children huddled in fear.

With a command the Master at arms had all remaining able bodied men and even young boys, equip with longbows amongst the battlements, and ordered the Ballista's to begin opening fire even now while out of range. Several men upon the battlements remained frozen by fear, while others began to throw themselves to the hard ground below, rather suffering a quick death by gravity than suffer the torrent of flames what was sure to soon consume them, this was followed by several women and children who cried out "Let the Light's warmth accept me!" as they threw themselves to their deaths rather than suffer the coming devastation. One Woman silent even brought a blade to her babes throat which was still at her teat as a mercy than the child suffering the Dragon's rage.

The beast didn't stop in its trails, it tore through the entirety of the fort, wall and all as if it were nothing more than a sheet of paper. He could feel the stone around his knees and torso, the feeling almost tickling him. Ragnarok bursted through the other end of the fort and gained enough speed to take to the air, fanning out his wings and flapping them to lift off from the ground. It was all too easy, perhaps a scratch here and there, one of his wings beginning to feel numb but he needed to do one last thing. End the remaining humans swiftly. It had been too long since he last fought the humans, he almost forgot how much of a pain it was eradicating a while colony. Sometimes there are lingering bees who survived a burning hive... at this point Ragnarok just needed to stop comparing things to other things.

The great dragon took to the sky above, the sun piercing the clouds and flew toward to, shielding his orbs from it's brightness and getting out of range for ballistas and arrows in minutes. He turned to where his shadow was cast over the fort, and flew in place. To anyone looking up the dragon would appear almost angelic, blinded by the sunlight to only see a shadow. That same figure, so he assumed, purposefully appeared as an omen of death. Ragnarok was fulfilling his namesake, he was the end to those who dared challenge him, dragon, human, monster, it mattered not. Looking down at the ruined place, it reminded him of his prime, the many times Ragnarok killed many beings for power and out of self righteousness. A time he did not miss.

Ragnarok's maw began to glow a deep, calming green, energy forming into a brighter color as it collected more and more. He would grant these scraps a swift end. With just one blow. He knew there were children there, women who would caress them one last time. At least they would get to see whatever God they prayed to, at least they were all together one last time and it was certainly better than facing death to a monster or to a rival kingdom. It then began to sink in, Ragnarok began to think maybe he was the monster.

The ends never justified the means, Ragnarok only wanted the island for his kind to thrive, a new home, but the end result being the same: he had to kill to gain it. The green around his maw glowed brighter each passing second, charging up for an attack that would gravely damage most. He shook the thought of guilt from his head but he still shook. Was it worth killing families over this? Ragnarok never cared for humans but they too had lives, he didn't have the raw hatred for them the survivors of the Earth Dragon war did. Yet he finished what he starts.

Ragnarok shot a powerful jet of green energy down at the fort, wanting not to dwell on his thoughts any longer he wanted to end their suffering he caused. Once the be collided with the fort, a massive green explosion took place, enveloping the area. The initial shockwave would kill anyone on the island and the explosion itself had created more fires. Better to cleanse the place than let it remain.

The motte and bailey of Stalwart might of well of been a sandcastle before the relentless power of the ocean itself. The Keep took the brunt of attack, and in a blinding flash its walls crumbled, it was a swift end to Lady Yorick and many of the defenders. The small hamlet outside its walls stood, yet the devastation had been wrought, those still outside of the keep could only scream in dismay as they saw their last bastion of hope crumble. Those what weren't petrified by fear fled to the surrounding forest, leaving the remains of their livelihoods and corpses of their comrades to be taken as the Dragon's prize.

The cadre of Knights which had given chase to the Dragon as it head towards Stalwart, including their Lord Yorick could only rein in their steeds. They were too late, and any attack now would be fruitless, several of the Knights so brave and chivalrous broke into open tears. Their loved ones, their children and wifes had been within the Keep as the desolation had struck. With what remaining resolve he could muster their Lord rallied them, changing course, knowing fine well to fight the Dragon now in the open would mean their deaths as well. The beast was a force of nature which no mere man could comprehend and fight, especially now in their low numbers. They sped to the forest.

[This Island has been claimed by Ragnarok. Continued threats would be from surviving Knight Errants under Lord Yorik who are hidden within the vast forest upon the Island. The Keep of Stalwart is a smouldering ruin, and the Hamlet outside of its walls is abandoned, little more than a decrepit uninhabited corpse which remains as a remnant of the Human town. The Remaining Humans would be living in small borrows and caves in fear of the new Overlord of the Island. Perhaps in time they may even reemerge to bring tribute in the form of food if Ragnarok proves himself a benevolent ruler of the Island]