The Ranger, the Rouge, and The Bard: Order of the Dragons

Chapter 10: Questions, Questions

The flames from the ballroom have begun spreading from the column of smoke rising a monstrous maw that yearns to consume the very sky as under the twinkling starlight this glamorous visage of wealth, power, and prosperity is being consumed by this all-consuming fire. Deep within a small tune is being hummed, "Fire, fire, everywhere forming haze like a mire, burning, burning, all this that men desire. Fire, fire, the fiery grave of many does transpire, burning, burning, ashen smoke whips into a spire. Fire, fire, these righteous flames are only growing higher, burning, burning, these fires refuse to tire." This tune fills the air as flames whip and dance as the form of Dragan Farefire is lit by the sinister backdrop of the theater consumed in flames bodies piled at the door their skin having melted and fused from the heat as they burned alive in this gold gilded coffin. Their screams, oh, it was like gold to this twisted individual. He watched them like a pitiful worm struggling for survival as its stuck out on pavement after a rainstorm, they clawed at the windows, clawed at the door, they cried out for help or for loved ones, but no help would come as skin melted, their eyes boiled, and their hair caught fire like a pile of kindling all while the eyes of the uncaring men watched from above in a opera style overlook. The gas masks of the soldiers catch the light of the inferno making them look truly devilish as they stand in a crescent around Dragan who breathes in a deep gulp of soot filled air as he leans over the balcony surveying the carnage like a artist admiring his magnum opus as a ghoulish smile grows on his ghoulish face, "Oh joyous, joyous day! Do you hear that? That is the sound of victory, that is the sound of a new age that is too come! Down with the rich, down with the weak we shall rule with the one true factor of life, strength and power! It fills the heart, no, the soul with righteous glory as our time grows close as the age of the dragons is close to being a reality once more!" Dragan says spinning in a jubilant glee like a merry maker at a festival while they slam their fists over their hearts as they salute and cheer for this coming age.

Sadly, their celebrations are interrupted as muscling through the crowd of soldiers are a group of men who aren't looking as happy. Three men who Dragan most definitely doesn't want to be unhappy that being Blade, Jester, and final fallowing just behind Aldaro who is barely recognizable into a strange diving suit like contraption with a bulbous helmet. On its front in between a mess of gears and wires it has a small viewing window at eye level which shows his glowing eyes that burn with a gleeful malice as he watches Jester approach Dragan, "Ah gentlemen come to enjoy the wonders of tonight's efforts!" Dragan says gesturing to the horrific scene playing out below them proudly. Jester steps forward his stern glare silencing Dragan from making any further comments, "I'd love to but can't. We have a situation; seems we are short four people in your inferno. Blade found one, but he somehow got himself crushed by a-"Jester says but Dragan interrupts putting up his hand to stop him pausing to take a breath before he violently grabs one of his men, a green dragonborn, and begins violently slamming them into a wall. "FOUR! FOUR! I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU CHECKED EVERY INCH! I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WAS ALL CLEAR! THAT YOU TOOK CARE OF ALL THE GUESTS" Dragan yells brutally smashing the man's face into the wall the metal of the gas mask denting and malforming, the glass over the eyes shattering and slicing into their eyes, finally with a flourish Dragan drags the man towards the edge of the opera box leading to the inferno. Using the sharp claws on his hands he slashed the tube providing the man oxygen before tossing him over the railing and into the inferno watching the flames engulfing him as he tries to claw meekly back to the doorway but smoke and having most likely multiple concussions from Dragan's assault makes them collapse as the fames begin to eat away at them.

There is a moment of silence as the room stares at the panting Dragan who takes a second to dust himself off as he quickly he regains his cool, "This is why I don't work with lesser born Dragonkin, so prone to failure." He says in a dismissive tone acting like he wasn't the one who didn't make absolutely certain that it was every guest and staff member. "Mr. Farefire don't worry I have men watching the roads they won't be leaving anytime soon." Aldaro his voice modulated by the strange machine he's wearing earns him quizzical looks from dragon and his soldiers, "What's with the um... suit, armor, um whatever it is!" Dragan says gesturing at Aldaro in confusion as he just looks weird, "Well, Mr. Farefire, unlike you, I am not flame resistant, quite the opposite in fact. Being an undead hundreds of years old with the only thing holding me together being magic shadows and far decayed flesh. Well, you could say that me and fire don't mix well and right now I'm standing in what is gonna be a roaring inferno in a few minutes here so excuse me for exercising a little caution!" Aldaro says strutting forward like he's on an invisible runway as he belittles the far more intimidating Dragan who glares at the man with obvious distain. "I could give less of a shit; the important thing is you skeletal fuck aren't doing anything other than walking around while 4 people you were supposed to help secure aren't here. The only reason I haven't rung your neck is unlike my men, our mutual benefactor doesn't allow it." Dragan says grabbing Aldaro and bringing him up to eye level as he speaks before rudely throwing him down and continuing to speak as Aldaro gets up looking pissed. "We need them dead as we don't need this area swarming with Empire before we ambush the royal council's guard. Which you and your fucking trigger-happy habits have made so much harder by killing A VERY PUBLIC FIGURE" Dragan says smashing off a chunk of the balister in his anger going into a very angry rant.