The Last StormRider

Clash of Thunder

I honestly wish I could know how magnificent I looked as I battled Dragon Stroud. I wish I could say it was glorious, that the Gods themselves stopped to watch the battle, but in all honesty probably not. All I remember was my rage, crashing into the his behemoth body. Diverting his wrath in a constant chase for my blood. Lighting flashed from his mouth, coming out in a billowing whirlwind causing me to skirt around him, utilizing my smaller size. My dagger like claws slashing crossed him in a dance of cat or mouse, or in our case hawk or raven.

For hours it seemed we battled, most of it's fuzzy, just a blur of claws, teeth, and sound. The last minutes of our aerial battle I remember. Bleeding from various wounds we stared each other down, our beastal forms breathing heavy from the strain we'd put them through. Stroud began to chant in a guttural tone, his draconic voice ruined from a particularly nasty bolt I'd sent down his throat previously.

"Aurthon, aurthon; vi vargach mrith victor ehs; Malrak bind jacida adon ekess ir." his voice echoed through out the night, the magic of the storm beginning to swirl around me.

A strained cry ripped out of my throat as I began to feel myself being forced back into human form. Realizing I only had a few moments where I too could control the storm I chanted back, "Though I be unmakin'; His wings be a takin'." It was botchy, a simple rhyme curse that any angry child could do. The only difference being is that most children don't have magical items allowing them to turn into a mythical beastie.

In triumphant pain I crashed down into the harbor's outer wall, watching as Stroud soon followed after me his landing hidden from my view by the rise of buildings. Wearily getting to my feet I stumbled in the general direction, where I thought Stroud had landed intent to finish the job, wings or know wings.

My head pounding I soon discovered something as I navigated the winding, chaotic streets. Three nights isn't nearly long enough to know where you're going, or how to get there. I kept asking how there can be so many dead ends in just one city. My eyes stinging from the rain, I continued on, my existence plagued by the constant whipping of the wind, driving me off balance.

"Aaron!" a voice screeched carrying over the sound of the storm. Deciding that it was just my imagination I continued to make my way through the streets, "Aaron! Rävsvans! Aaron Rävsvans! Stop wandering around in circles, like a ruddy idiot, and look up!" Slightly annoyed I stopped lifting my head just a bit to realize that I had, for an unknown amount of time, been walking in a ragged circle.

Turning about I saw a shadow dart back into an alley giving me a brief nod before disappearing into the night. Nodding my head in response, I soon gained my bearings, then started at a jog making my way to the Patchwork worrying that it had been among the ships that Stroud and I had been using as makeshift barricades.

With relief I saw it's familiar hull rocking in it's spot, the only damage that I could see was a few rips in the sail, and a missing helm. Other than that she was spotless. Well as spotless as a ship in the middle of a magical storm could be anyways.

As if sent from the gods Stroud himself also came running out onto the wooden walkways of the docks, his personal guard/crew following in tow. Seeing me his eyes bulged as he shoved a few of them forwards screaming all sorts of threats that built up their terror of me before I even had to draw my sword.

The little skirmish ended quickly, the first two were much too drunk to be fighting. I decided the icy, cold water of the dock would do them some good. The other two were much to cowardly to be worthy of fighting me. I simply walked between them easily knocking their cutlasses away, like leaves in a wayward wind.

My eyes set on Stroud I saw his mouth begin to open, probably to beg for my renowned mercy. Filled with rage I didn't wait to hear what he had to say, rushing forwards I plunged my sword deep into his chest, staring into his empty eyes. As I stared into his eyes, my arm felt almost weightless, almost as if Stroud hadn't been stabbed, almost as if he didn't exist. I quickly found out that he didn't.

Enraged I watched as Stroud's chuckling face faded from my view, his illusion destroyed by the silver edge of my sword. Growling in frustration I turned towards the dock my eyes seeking the path towards my vengeance, and I found it sailing away on Stroud's ship. And as Stroud's ship, The Dragon, so did the storm as well. Quickly leaving the sky clear and full of twinkling stars.

Exhausted I stumbled into the nearest inn, it happened to be a favorite of Jim's. Not surprised to find it full of shaken sailors, I made my way to the corner tables often called, Danger's Dinner table, laying my head down on the table I let myself fall into a deep sleep.