The Dragon of Black and Gold

For the briefest of moments... everything goes utterly still and silent. Not even the barbarian’s heartbeat can be heard as those few dozen pieces of metal hang overhead. “Hhh!” A single sharp intake of air, that breath hissing through carnivorous teeth, shatters this quiet calm.

-45.93 Health
-63.29 Health

-13.35 Health

-121.38 Health
-49.76 Health
-57.01 Health

Like a swarm of bees and angry birds, that hodgepodge of weapons dive down at the Drakling. Thin blades slice at her skin and scales, pointy spikes penetrate the flesh beneath, blocks of steel batter at her armour and her bones.

-10.3 Health
-217.82 Health
-72.64 Health

-57.2 Health
-38.17 Health

The trinket dangling off the back of her hip burns painfully hot, doing what it can to negate the Duke’s magic. But its influence can only reach so far. The weapons become clumsier and far less nimble the closer they are to Krvavy, letting her dodge or destroy the shafts of some, but that does nothing to stop their momentum. And once they hit the ground, bouncing away or getting left behind by her relentless advance, they fall under the Duke’s control once more.

Rushing winds swirl around the Drakling, sheathing her body in a violent and protective shroud. The lighter weapons are deflected even further, as are those made of more wood than metal, but not all can be pushed aside.

-329.07 Health
-194.46 Health

A heavy helmet bashes into the back of the barbarian’s head. The squared edge of a warhammer smashes into her right shoulder from behind, striking the bit of her scapula not covered by any armour. Her ankle is clipped by an iron candlestick moving with enough **** to hurt, if not deal any damage.

But that pain hardly slows her down. It only feeds into her rage as she rushes forward, barrelling through this barrage of increasingly broken weapons, heading straight for the Duke.

Distracted and open as he is, focused more on manipulating his magic than the rapidly approaching threat, that bastard barely has time to raise his gauntlet in hopes of once more blocking her strike.

Which is exactly what Krvavy wanted him to do.

45.1 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

The wooden and slightly curved haft of her Soulbound weapon slams into that icy and armoured hand, moving it aside and out of the way. Her knee jerks upwards, the entirety of her might and a considerable amount of magic driven straight into the Duke’s dented dark-grey breastplate.

Critical Hit! 1,585.81 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

284.8 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

In the blink of an eye and with a deafening bang, that bastard is sent flying across the room, crashing into the thick and candle covered wall directly beside the rightmost window. Wispy streams of mana leak from the dozens of cracks surrounding his cratered chest, the enchantments within that plate and the others across his body fizzling from the **** dealt to them.

The weapons hanging in the air clatter down to the frosty ground. Krvavy kicks one aside and steps over another.

“NOOOOOOOO!” Fury and hate fills that bellowing shout, floorboards creaking beneath the swift stomping steps of armoured boots as the nearest knight rushes to his liege’s aid, a truly titanic sword raised high over his shoulder. But as he nears the barbarian... the weight of his tremendous weapon suddenly seems to return, shifting his center of balance back and to the side from where it was mere moments ago. He stumbles and –

Critical Hit! 1,822.45 Damage dealt to [Colossal Sword Knight]

Ignoring the heat searing into her skin, the Drakling swings her Soulbound weapon towards that aggressive knight, the dull grey armour covering his left bicep caving in on itself as a hammerhead slams into that raised arm. The enchantments woven into those metal plates flare up as they are pushed passed their limit, unable to stop the violent quakes echoing through them from emulsifying muscle and pulverizing bone.

An armoured tail violently flicks to the side, sweeping the legs out from beneath that knight. He comes crashing to the ground, collapsing near a corpse cut in two just above the waist. An inhuman foot looms above his head.

“Akkh...!” The Duke coughs, gritting his teeth and pushing past the pain. “ASKOLD!” Anger underlines that shouted name. A pulse of power echoes from his outstretched arm, sending that prone knight skidding away from the barbarian just as her foot comes crashing down.

Splinters scatter out from that point of impact, floorboards lifting and wooden beams breaking. A desiccated corpse falls partway down that newly made hole, a limb caught on a jagged plank and left dangling halfway into the room beneath. Krvavy is **** to quickly jump to the side to avoid the same fate.

“SIR!?” Concern fills the elegant knight’s voice as she turns away from the barrier... which immediately disappears, plunging this temple into near-complete darkness as only a few fading candles continue to shine. “AHH!” The loud clang of a shield bashing into her back accompanies that pained shout. She barely keeps hold of her glaive as she is sent tumbling to the ground, shifting her fall into a roll that soon sees her back on her feet.

The Duke’s anger only grows as the sounds of combat ring out around him once more. “I SAID TO HOLD STEADY!” He roars, rising to his feet and quickly downing a potion, his Metal Magic forcing the cavernous dent from his breastplate and sending his sabre flying back into his hand.

The weapons scattered across the ground begin to rattle, unable to take to the air with the Duke so furious.

He closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

“HEY!” Krvavy calls out, hurrying around the hole she made, fingers clenched tight around the haft of her Soulbound weapon. “DOVORYN!” Shouting that bastard’s name isn’t enough to break his concentration. But Krvavy knows what will be. “I didn’t just steal the Dwarf meant for you! I took your fiancée too! From those weak bandits that you had a deal with! AND THEN I MADE HER MINE~!”

Those iron eyes snap open, filled with a baleful rage. “YOU...!” Chunky candlesticks zip past the Duke, hurled without precision and unable to breach the barbarian’s Turbulent Shroud. “You’ve ruined so many plans! And for WHAT?! PETTY ****?!”

A wide, predatory grin fills the Drakling’s face. Adrenaline pumps through her veins and pushes back even the faintest hint of the exhaustion she should be feeling. “HAHAHA~! Not even that!” She honestly admits, laughing loudly and openly at the impotent fury of her foe. “I only went after the Patriarch on purpose! The others were pure chance! So the world is just against you, Dovy~! You little cuckold~!”

“YOU’VE PUT THE LIVES OF UNTOLD THOUSANDS AT RISK!”

Krvavy simply bares her teeth in a manic grin as she lunges at the Duke, the sharp edge of her axe gleaming as it swings towards his head and –

The Duke’s cruel sabre moves faster than the eye can follow, its tip slicing clean through that oversized axe, trimming its metal beard straight off and just barely leaving a notch in its reinforced haft. If that blade had just a bit more reach... her trusty weapon would have been decapitated. But Krvavy doesn’t have even a second to contemplate that fact. A gauntleted fist follows up the Duke’s attack, accompanied by a deep thrumming boom as a wave of magic launches that weapon back, wrenching it free from her fingers and out of her grasp.

Krvavy grits her teeth, wincing as the trinket burns with such heat that it almost feels as if she is being branded. She could call her Soulbound weapon back to her, pulling it back through the air, but that would leave her open. And there is nothing stopping the Duke from disarming her again. Or damaging her axe even further. So... She clenches her hands into fists, ducking to the side and driving her bare knuckles into that bastard’s beaten breastplate, striking beneath his heavily armoured arm before he can block her.

253.02 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

-2,875.76 Health

Searing sparks sizzle through the air as that curved sabre cuts deep into the Drakling’s breastplate, carving through enchanted metal with relative ease and even making it through the bones far beneath. Sharp, shooting pain erupts across her chest, a line of agony stretching from near the bottom of her left tit to just above her right.

Through that sundered piece of armour, past a deep canyon of fatty flesh and beyond a severed shell of ribs, stands a heart hugged by lungs. A not quite shallow line marks those organs, blood pooling where it doesn’t belong. Within that same space, beyond the physical realm, rests an ethereal core which continues to laboriously beat, straining itself even further as it reaches for the lives lost by those who fought to defend this place.

Guided by instinct alone, those rent muscles and broken bones begin to close that cavernous wound. Strings of crimson flesh snap out across the shrinking divide, weaving themselves back into one contiguous mass. Globs of yellowy fat squirm and squelch as they press into each other. Skin as pale as snow knits back together, its previously smooth and flawless surface marred by a long, lightly raised line.

+750 Health

Naught but blood rushing through veins can be heard in Krvavy’s ears, the swift and unstable drumbeat of her mending heart echoing throughout her soul. Malicious madness gleams in her glowing green eyes as a blaze of violent and vicious hate burns away all reason from her hazy mind, her fury and rage reaching heights more intense than anything she has ever experienced before. Not because of the pain **** upon her nor how close to **** she was brought by that single strike, but fed by the fragmented thoughts of what her girls will have to say about this newest scar. Her chest, the pillow that the heads of her greatest treasures rest upon when she cuddles and hugs them, has been... desecrated.

A wave of discomfort washes over the Drakling. Her semi-stiff scales begin to thicken and harden, extending outwards as overlapping plates of rippled ebony and glossy obsidian. Those strengthened scales darken even further from the black they were before, becoming a void empty of all light... if not for the crimson glow emanating from within the cracks between them.

That supernaturally natural armour strains at the metal sheathing her left arm and pushes at the plates aligned atop her tail. Only for that pressure to suddenly cease as shards of black start spreading across the surface of those articulating pieces, far more jagged and rough than what is rising from her flesh.

At the same time... Flakes of dull and grainy rock begin to appear everywhere her vision lies, covering wood and brick and candle and metal alike. Her malevolent gaze sees those coarse patches grow, more so on the one who earned her ire.

Injured as he may be, the Duke still struggles against this Dragon’s magic. He pushes forward despite the stone locking up his joints and slipping beneath the articulating plates of his heavier armour, that thickening shell cracking with each movement he makes.

The chilled, frosty air wavers like a mirage as waves of heat roll off of Krvavy, what blood remains on the ground around her beginning to boil. Raging red flames, their tips shining a brilliant golden orange, burst into being at the tips of her four horns, rushing along the length of those curved and bony spikes. Her hair glows with an incandescent warmth – crimson strands swaying in a breeze only they feel – as that inferno flows further beyond, spilling down her spine like the hottest of magma flows and sheathing her ebony tail. Furious plumes of red and gold sprout from her back, spreading wide over her shoulders as her clawed fingers and taloned toes are engulfed in jagged flames.

A baleful red light fills this temple, melting ice and wax alike.

-293.38 Health

As if her new obsidian-black scales aren’t even there, the Duke’s sabre carves open her rerebrace and the bicep beneath, her True Defence letting metal and meat and muscle resist what would have otherwise passed straight through. But still that blade bites deep into bone, cutting more than halfway through before getting stopped as the hand holding onto it is grabbed... and then crushed by fiery and volcanic claws.

Critical Hit! 576.19 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

Black rock, darker than the starless night sky, spreads across that unnaturally sharp, single-edged sword. A second hand sweeps across the Duke’s chest, rending his breastplate past the point of uselessness, before sinking its claws into that gritty stone. Veins of molten heat spread out from those flaming fingers, mingling with the purple-blue mana leaking from the incandescent metal within, streaming out as a bloody aurora.

Tkkkkt...!

-19.81 Health

-28.29 Health

Shards of razor shrapnel scatter as a surging tide of violently unravelled magic erupts from what was a sword mere moments ago, breaking against Krvavy’s body like a wave against a cliff face. But still the **** of that blast pushes both Dragon and Duke apart, one skidding quite the distance across a soon-to-be scorched floor and the other slamming his back into that stone wall once more.

A tingling numbness fills Krvavy’s left arm, and the rest of that side as well, leaving it clumsy and awkward to use. As if it had fallen asleep and is hesitant to wake up, even as she shakes it. Her tail restlessly sways back and forth, its tip hovering above the pit she left in the ground.

The sound of a swordless hilt clattering into the strip of stone floor that hugs the wall close goes all but unheard, that broken weapon dropped by the mangled remnants of a hand.

“Gnnhhn...!” The Duke grunts and pushes himself fully onto his feet, taking no more than a single step forwards to stand at the edge of where the floorboards begin. Naught but hate fills his iron eyes as he openly glares at the feral beast before him. “Gnnkh...!” Specks of red cling to the frosted hairs of his beard, more appearing as he fails to stifle a cough.

Without a word, that bastard reaches out with his heavy gauntlet of a hand... and forces those armoured fingers into a fist.

Heat, hardly even noticeable compared to the flames engulfing her, sears through Krvavy’s pale skin and leaves the jagged scales near to its source in a charred, half molten state. That little disk dangling from her belt bends and warps as the sound of rattling metal once more fills this bloodied temple.

The Drakling dashes forwards right as her foe violently jerks his gauntlet back, as if he is pulling a heavy weight towards him.

A thought that is quickly proven right.

The desiccated bodies of the dead skid across the frosty wooden floor, dragged by whatever metal they may have on them, be it mail or belt buckles. Another gesture sees those corpses leap into the air, clumped together as they dangle in this Drakling’s way.

Through the sundered canyon of her broken breastplate leaks a brilliant and bloody light, visible between the gaps in her damaged ribs. It lingers there for just a moment before rushing up her throat and bursting past her parted lips. A great and terrible inferno sweeps across those drained corpses, burning through fabric, scorching leather, melting metal, and incinerating flesh. Some of those lumps of kindling are sent tumbling back to the ground as their strings are cut, but the ones that were moderately more armoured remain as obstacles.

Obsidian claws sheathed in gold-tipped crimson flames scour away all in her path, cutting off limbs and tearing apart torsos.

-8.68 Health

-11.72 Health
-25.34 Health

-21.89 Health

-18.32 Health

Chunks of broken metal pelt the Drakling alongside lumps of molten slag. Those flying remnants of armour and weapons go ignored.

A sharp bit of scorching metal pinches at pale skin with each leaping step Krvavy takes towards her soon-to-be defeated foe. Her armour begins to vibrate beneath the partial layer of ebony and obsidian scales that have sprouted across its matte surface.

433.45 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

Hissing steam erupts from beneath this Dragon’s flaming claws, magical ice melting at her touch, followed by the screech of metal being torn asunder. Deep, gouging scars are carved into the Duke’s shield-like vambrace, reaching down to the bone and creating a wound that... swiftly begins to mend itself.

Clnk...!

A rather sturdy vial bounces off the floor, the faintest red film still coating its insides. The heavily armoured hand that held it clenches into a fist, pulling away from a grimaced mouth and striking out in a swift jab.

-31.06 Health

That gauntlet crashes into Krvavy’s chin, splitting her lip and stinging her jaw. But that attack isn’t taken lying down. A simple jerk of her head stabs her lower left horn into ice-covered armour, that flame-coated thing piercing into the freshly healed flesh beneath before it can fully pull back.

200.38 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

“Gnnh...!” The Duke grunts in agonized pain as his arm is grabbed and the horn driven deeper, spreading apart the bones of his wrist. A light pop can just barely be heard as that joint dislocates. “Nnnghh...!” The fingers of his previously mangled hand press against this feral beast’s broken breastplate, its sharp edge digging into scarred skin, as mana thrums through his channels with an almost audible hum.

A hum that can be felt through each piece of metal on this barbarian’s body.

-42.46 Health

The trinket pressing against her bare skin audibly shatters, pieces of that overheated thing scattering into the ground as half molten shards. “Hhhh!” Smoke tinged with the scent of burnt flesh hisses past the Drakling’s clenched teeth as her upper half is roughly shoved back, her spine straining as it struggles against the **** forcing it to bend.

Her thick tail slams into the ground with a meaty thwack, bracing her body even as the armour atop it attempts to drag her away. Splintery gouges are left in the weakened wood floor, her inhuman toes clawing at the ground as she resists her unwilling retreat. But that alone isn’t enough.

Fed by rage and hatred, the furious and fiery plumes erupting from her back begin to flare up even further, growing larger and spreading wider. The upper edges of those twin blazes remain a deep crimson, spikes of which project downwards to bleed an orange hue into the brilliant gold flames stretching between them. A single flap of those raging infernos helps to right this Dragon’s stance. Another begins to push back against the Duke’s magical might.

Iron eyes narrow as Dovoryn’s expression grows increasingly strained. The frost and chilled blood in his beard has already begun to melt. Beads of sweat drip down his weathered face. “Nnnngh...!” His armoured boots skid from wood to brick, his torso twisting to the right as his attempt to **** away this indomitable Drakling sees only his own body pushed back.

Pale lips spread into a wide and manic grin, baring carnivorous teeth backlit by a blood-red glow.

The strip of stone floor, smooth as it is, provides better traction than those hardwood planks ever could. Rock and earth lies in this Dragon’s domain. It is hers to sculpt as she pleases.

“Ghh...!” Dovoryn tightens his jaw. The fingers of his heavily armoured hand can do little more than tremble and tap at the helmet mask that covers Krvavy’s face, a thick and flame-coated horn burning his nerves and splitting his ruined wrist even further apart.

The clang of a breastplate bumping into a brick wall marks the end of this Duke’s retreat, leaving him trapped and cornered within the rightmost window alcove.

Before this barbaric beast can take advantage of that... the magic pushing against her body ceases to be.

-12.74 Health

192.58 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

Her horned head slams into the wall above her foe, that **** echoing into the base of her skull, disorientating her more than it hurts. Whether by choice or not, the Duke rips his arm free from the hook it had been hanging from, wincing from the pain that brings him.

-56.7 Health
-24.81 Health
-45.76 Health

Fragmented shards of the sword that she broke stab into the barbarian’s back, sharper than mundane metal should be yet not to the point where they can do much more than bypass her skin and scales, embedding themselves into muscle and bone.

-122.77 Health

-19.03 Health
-51.15 Health

“DIIIEEEE...!” The Drakling roars, rage swirling through her hazy mind, impatient and not ignorant to the exhaustion weighing down on her like an unwanted blanket. “ALLLLL...!” Her left arm, made bulky and bestial by the scales of ebony and obsidian that have spread across the matte metal of her armour, swings at the Duke with fearsome, flaming talons spread. “REEAAADYYYY!”

A trickle of blood drips from that bastard’s nose as his magic stops that murderous strike in its tracks, weighing down all the metal on Krvavy’s body and anchoring her in place.

How unfortunate for him that her right arm bears not a scrap of armour.

1,457.24 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

Those claws cleave through the remains of his breastplate, carving deep canyons through metal and bone as they travel up and to the left... and then reverse along that same path.

1,937.98 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

That frustrating Metal Magic fails to fully hold this Dragon at bay. All it does is slow her down.

Long and cruel talons wrap tight around the Duke’s throat, razor-sharp claws and intense heat alike burrowing through armour, then into meat and bone. “Ghhhhhknnngh!”

861.07 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

That **** grip only tightens, uncaring of the hand – and the dislocated lump kept attached only by the armour around it – trying to pull those claws away.

23.21 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

A clawed thumb flicks its sharp tip across this insect’s cheekbone... before sinking deep into an iron eye.

Critical Hit! 2,242.66 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]
1,738.16 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

Blood sizzles into roaring golden flames, those sounds mostly drowning out the choked gasps of a dying man. “Hnnghk...! Yhou...! Ghk...! Khhhgh...! Doom...! Nnnk...! All...! Ghck...!”

The foul scent of charred and burning flesh fills the air.

3,676.32 Damage dealt to [Duke Dovoryn Terenti]

What little resistance there was beneath those monstrous claws suddenly gives. A spine is severed and a brain is pierced.

Weak fingers slip from the Drakling’s jagged black scales as the body of Dovoryn Terenti, Duke of Volhynia, collapses to the ground like a puppet without strings.

His head remains pressed against the wall, at the height it would be were he still standing.

[Duke Dovoryn Terenti] has been slain!
+29,182.5 Experience

Level Up! You have reached Level 34. As a Drakling blessed by a divine power, you have 7 attribute points to allocate and have gained +2 to Might & Toughness. If not allocated by the time you fall asleep, it will be done automatically.

+2 Divine Favour, for growing in strength.

Level Up! You have reached Level 35. As a Drakling blessed by a divine power, you have 7 attribute points to allocate and have gained +2 to Might & Toughness. If not allocated by the time you fall asleep, it will be done automatically.

+2 Divine Favour, for growing in strength.

Level Up! You have reached Level 36. As a Drakling blessed by a divine power, you have 7 attribute points to allocate and have gained +2 to Might & Toughness. If not allocated by the time you fall asleep, it will be done automatically.

+2 Divine Favour, for growing in strength.

Level Up! You have reached Level 37. As a Drakling blessed by a divine power, you have 7 attribute points to allocate and have gained +2 to Might & Toughness. If not allocated by the time you fall asleep, it will be done automatically.

+2 Divine Favour, for growing in strength.

+60 Divine Favour, for slaying the Duke of Volhynia, architect of your first **** and former fiancé to the first of your own.

Krvavy’s chest heaves. The adrenaline in her veins suddenly feels... insufficient. But still her heart beats with energy. “Heheha...!” Soft and unstable laughter passes through her lips. Without much thought, she dumps nearly all of her freshly gained stat points into Charisma, with the leftovers going into Toughness. That will give what she is about to do even more weight.

She ignores her low health, her strained stamina, her rather depleted mana, and that newly upgraded milestone trait. Instead, she simply turns back towards the temple and those still fighting within it. Her lungs fill with burning air.

“THE DUKE IS DEAD!” Manic glee and triumphant fury fills those roared words, the head of her defeated foe held high by the thumb in its eye socket.

It takes a few seconds for the fighting to still.

The surviving soldiers of Svaneti seem shocked by that claim, by the sight of that decapitated head. They must have already made peace with the fact that they were going to die tonight, yet here they are... still standing while the foe they thought insurmountable has fallen instead.

Those three servants of the dead Duke are much harder to read, expressions hidden beneath their helms.

The giant with his shield is as still as an ice statue. He does nothing to stop the soldiers around him from stepping away. They posed no threat to him, unable to make it past his defences. But neither was he much of a threat to those men. Perhaps if the splintered floorboards weren’t bowing so much beneath his weight then he would have already taken them out, but as is...

The elegant knight isn’t much different, though a tinge of dread can be seen in her body language, in how she takes a subtle step back. Only to twitch as she puts weight on a clearly wounded leg, the gleaming armour encasing it left scuffed and dented. The curved tip of her glaive lowers just a little.

But the last knight, destroyed arm hanging limp by his side as he struggles to keep his titanic sword aloft with just his right, is much more transparent. He roughly pushes past a wounded soldier, not bothering to finish the job, as he stomps towards this Dragon coated in gold-tipped flames and black scales. “BEAST!” He roars, fury filling his voice and doing well to hide his fear. “YOU WILL PAY –!”

“YES! HAHAHA!” The Drakling cackles in deranged joy, her head still heady and hazy. “COME!” She holds out her gauntleted hand, claws spread wide, and calls for her Soulbound weapon. In the span of a second, that oversized axe leaps from the valley the stairs rest in, slamming into her grasp. “DIE WITH YOUR DUKE, LITTLE ROACH!” Her axe may be damaged, but it is still usable. It can still kill. It deserves to kill more. “LET ME CRACK OPEN THAT METAL SHELL AND CHAR THE FLESH WITHIN! LET ME GROW EVEN STRONGER WITH YOUR ****!”

+5 Health

+10 Health
+5 Health

The pieces of metal embedded in this barbaric Dragon’s back drop to the ground, pushed out by her mending flesh in anticipation of this last little fight to come.

“No, wait!” Shouts... one of Svaneti’s soldiers. The one whose barrier protected his fellows. The one who bore a shield that now lies in pieces on the ground, destroyed and discarded. “There have been enough deaths tonight! Lay down your arms and let us end this chaos!”

“NEVER!” That truly titanic sword gleams in the crimson light emanating from Krvavy’s flames. It will be a wonderful trophy to take home.

A glaive clatters into the wooden floor. “Askold! Don’t be a fool!” The elegant knight desperately scolds and pleads with her comrade. “Dovoryn is dead! Do not throw your life away too! We can still see his plans through! Without Svaneti!”

Something pokes and prods at the edge of Krvavy’s awareness... only for the synthetic Heartstone atop her Soulbound weapon to violently push back against that attempt at scrying.

The helmet worn by that giant of a knight shifts slightly. As if in a wince. A moment later, he carefully drops his morningstar mace to the ground, before gently lowering his huge shield down beside it. “Chaos will follow our liege’s ****. From within and without. It is our duty to maintain the order of his lands.”

“COWARDS!” Despair fills the furious knight’s voice as he hurls his weapon at the Drakling... though it hardly covers half the distance before smashing into the floor, embedding itself into a new patch of broken wooden planks. With that... he falls to his knees and clutches at his head.

Silence hangs in the air, disrupted only by the quiet crackling of flames, the grunts of the wounded, and... faintly muffled sobbing.

“Spare us.” The elegant knight softly requests. A rather bold thing to ask for considering the devastation they brought to this land. “Ransom us back to Volhynia. And we will do all we can to withdraw our army, with no further fighting and no further destruction.”

The soldier who made that plea for surrender simply nods, sheathing the sword he had been holding by the blade. The other men with him are not as trusting of these knights’ words. They quickly move to bind and restrain their defeated foes.

“Hahhhh...” Krvavy’s chest heaves, her broken breastplate stretching and contracting with each heavy breath she takes. Some semblance of sense slowly returns to her, bringing with it both relief and disappointment over not having to fight that aggressive knight... as well as a fair bit of exhaustion.

Thump, thmp...

A head without a body bounces across the floorboards, stopping by the foot of a beaten soldier who, understandably, jumps at that. It is slightly charred, but still recognizable as who it belonged to.

Immediately, a number of weapons turn towards Krvavy.

Her pale lips curl into a cruel snarl. “I have a delivery for the Baron...! And another for his family...!” She calls out to whoever is in charge, failing to keep those words from sounding like a threat. The flames burning across her body begin to flicker and fade away, the jagged scales of ebony and obsidian falling as they are shed one by one, yet that does little to ease the worries of those before her. “But first...! How about we discuss my reward for saving your asses?” Her malicious grin grows wider. “If I get what I want, I may even help with the cleanup~.”