As the party neared Palacia a vile stench filled the air. Even the death and desolation behind them could not compare to what atrocities they now approached. The land was strewn with remnants of what were once living but none could or would dare try describe their race, age or sex except for the few fair combatants seen whose armor still covered lifeless corpses. Trees were but burnt twigs sticking from the ground, making cover both difficult and desirous as the huge dragons, until now thought only the means of scaring children to bed, kept a near constant vigil overhead.

Brian returned from his patrol to tell the others with great concern, "There is no way but one of my knowledge to enter Palacia. That is through the front gate which is now locked tight as the city prepares for siege. We must chose a way soon for our enemy has fell all the trees within a half mile of the city to make encampments and engines of war. There are scouts about by the dozens ."

Before Darion could fully gather his thoughts Darthon spoke. "If this be the case then we must ride as the wind to the main entrance and slay all in our way! You are the greatest fighters I've met! With you at the fore and Michellana and myself casting spells behind you, prayers from Sara at our rear might see us through!"

Sara then added, "There is no petition to Plateus for us here. I wish to be at the front bearing arms against this evil as is my call." Darthon opened his mouth as if to declaim her words but, with a stolid glance from her, fell silent. He only nodded to his mate, surprised at her newfound capacity.

Darion, with no other means in mind to overcome what lay ahead, said, "So be it. Let us find hiding for all but our most needed provisions. As Brian tells me, we have but a scant half mile to the cleared forest...more than enough space to bring our rides to full pace."

Within moments, the party was seated on steeds bereft of but themselves and their greatest of needs. Even Desden had hidden his fine collection of `treasures' and so Darthon had laid the case to his prized lute aside, carefully adding his spellbook to a saddlebag and preparing his instrument for the sad play that lay shortly ahead.

Darion took a last long look, he hoped not a final one, of his fellows now assembled behind him. Some sights were as old as he dare remember....Brian with sword drawn, Xavier with weapon at the ready, Darthon tuning his lute and, hurting his heart all the worst, Michellana preparing her spells. Still new visions caught his gaze. Sara had fine steel resting on her breast with a look that she wished it soon on the throats of enemies and Desden had pulled his shortsword so seldom seen. He perceived one thing all had in common. They looked upon him as if awaiting their call to glory or death.

Darion heaved a long sigh, gazed at the road ahead and said all there was left to, regardless of what outcome there be for friends and lovers. "Charge!"

The remainder of the dead standing trees were soon a blur as the union gained momentum.. They came into new clearings, as Brian had stated, clearly nearly a mile before the protection of Palacia. Between them and this refuge lay many siege engines in preparation, camps for several fell beings including those whose inhabitants could be nothing but the dragons of fairytales and garrisons whose members came to accost the party, nearly all seeing them as dust to the north as the party rode all the faster.

Most of those who stood before them were thrown asunder, if not by steed or blade then by spells cast by Michellana and Darthon. He held his tears and tried to maintain his concentration as Sara took many fell blows from the goblins and men before her, knowing her not to be as adept at sword as she professed and taking brave chances in swerving from the others to attack near foes. As the rest, all he could do was continue on.

Halfway to the town they noticed the enemy, or at least all those but goblins, would not enter their path. Darion took this as a good omen until he saw dragons of red, green, black and blue descend upon them. "Faster," Darion cried!

The party increased pace, lightning bolts, fireballs and rains of acid spilling all about them. Most hit safely behind but the cries of Michellana, Darthon and their steeds attested to the success of the enemies' attacks. As the foes before decreased, those above increased and the gates grew ever nearer, Darion said all he might to save his wife and possibly the rest of his friends.

"Split!" Most slowed for an instant at this strange command but Desden and Brian took this to mean any were fair game. Several fell but a second after Darion's single word. The others, seeing dragons above preparing another attack and the successes of Des and Brian, were soon running helter through the plains. Many enemy near but not on the road to Palacia lost their heads as the group broke from its path and attacked its nearest foes. The dragons above were at a loss as to where to strike and those that did hit only allies.

As this day ended the evil took upon them a new saying: "If ye be as bad as ye so think, stand ye before a member of Union at full charge!"

But moments later the entire crew arrived at the locked gates of Palacia. Darion saw that all were hurt little except Darthon and Sara, but Michellana showed gaping wounds. "Open your gates! We are friends!" he yelled full throat.

"None may enter without word from the King! We are under siege!" The reply seemed to come from the mouth of a child, hardly an entry sentry.

Darthon simply nodded to Desden. Both were soon climbing the entrance's walls. As they passed over Des took the benefit of hiding in shadows while Darth was pulled down immediately.

A sword at his throat, his captor, this fighter near infant spoke, "I have been instructed to kill all who traverse our walls with impunity!"

Darthon, with no means to cast a spell yelled, "Kill me if you will but I must warn you, there are others with me!" He stared about as the remainder of guards near the gate came to eye him as well. He soon saw most of these were babes also.

The child's voice, as menacing as he tried, became an octave higher, "Where are these others? Do ye jest or speak with honesty? Surely your life depends upon your truthful answer!"

As that was said, the gate rose. Desden, hidden well in scant cover, had taken advantage of Darthon's plight. In but a thought the party entered and the ingress slammed shut.

Sara's dagger was at the neck of the sergeant, "Harm my husband, you die! Lose it now or never again see your mother, much less what wife may yet await you!"

He dropped his sword. "I will never again see my mother or father. Both were destroyed by the dragons I have been told all my time were but tales. Kill me, but you will no sooner take our town than fly in water! We are ready for you!"

Sara turned the young warrior to face her gaze. He saw in an instant the love in her eyes and began to cry. She held him close, feeling hot tears on her breast and then her own cross her cheeks as well.

"This sentiment is all fine and good, but have we not more pressing matters to attend to?" All but Sara turned to Brian, most nodding in agreement. Darion pulled Sara from the sobbing boy and asked of him, "How might we get to your Tower?"

The boy looked at once at Darion, Darthon then Sara. His history still untold would prove this sapling brave and strong, with him taking savage revenge on the killers of his family, destroying evil wherever he went and again finding peace in Sara's arms after this life failed him. But his is yet another story to be told.

"The tower is to the north and in the center of our town," spoke the childish sergeant. "But our finest warriors guard it and none but with of greatest notability may enter now. We are under attack from all sides and even sorcerer spies have been found in our ranks."

"Much thanks," stated Darion, seemingly oblivious but all too knowing of what was said by the youthful fighter. "We must go there now! Please watch over our horses and wish the best for us!"

The alliance continued past burnt buildings and bodies, those which weren't on fire crumbling ashes being claimed by the breeze. The dragons above seemed to take great pleasure in attacking again that what was already dead but, hearing screams throughout the town, the party knew this not to be entirely so.

A young mother with babe in arms and a toddler by her side tried to cross the road, to where none would ever know. "NOOOO," cried Sara as a red saw and swooped upon them. Xavier had just an instant to catch her as she might have met the doom of parent and children. They were fried to the spot with but a moment of anguished cries from the three, the infant's seeming to last an instant longer than the rest.

The fellowship now took greater care to follow cover as they continued. It was soon obvious that, if the dragons above could find no living target, they would as soon add to the destruction of the town in whatever way they might. Any structure that remained standing seemed a fair mark as the assembly found all too often. Under the best of remaining buildings they might come under a barrage of fire, lightning or acid.

With their best stealth they at last reached the palace. "I must get to the tower!" Michellana all but begged the seasoned guard at the gate.

"None may enter save by grant of the king," said the clearly tired warrior. Before a response could be given a green spied them and dropped as a long thrown stone. As the guards sought cover the party split as if it were second nature. Darion, Brian and Xavier released arrows with the speed of thought. Darthon shot his sling as did Desden his slingstaff, hitting the dragon cleanly on the nose and making her lose direction. She crashed into the street scant yards from the party, breaking her neck in the fall and dying instantly.

Brian approached the guard. "I am Brian, Warlord of Walther. Surely you have heard of me."

"No," stated the still awestruck officer, "but seeing you have fell a dragon, I'll see what I can do." He called one of his men, whispered to him and stared again at the party as his soldier left.

Brian again spoke to him, "You know Walther, God of War? I am his HighPriest, Brian!"

"Ahhh, that is good I suppose," replied the guard, "does it pay you well?"

Darion caught Brian's arm as he attempted to pull sword on the guard. "Hold your steel for he is one of us! I hate to be the one to tell this you but it may be some time before anyone knows of your god and, moreso, you!"

Within moments the sentry returned to whisper in his Captain's ear. He nodded thoughtfully then turned to the group. "Darthon is the only one among you known well in our city and he is seen for the rogue he is! Still, since you appear to be allies we will grant you entry if you will but hand over your arms and magic. One among you might go to the tower, since you see it being of such import, with an escort that will watch carefully your movements."

Brian approached as if to argue but Darion raised an arm to block him as he strode. "This may be our only hope in saving Palacia and ourselves," Darion spoke to all though he stared Brian in the eye. "Please hand over your weapons and spells so we might continue."

Soon a small heep of the party's stock in trade laid at the feet of the Captain. Darthon asked and was allowed to retain his lute for the purpose of raising the spirits of the evacuees within. The members were searched one by one, with the guards finding daggers on Brian and Desden, though Desden still retained one in a pocket of his boot designed for such a contingency.

Still, the alliance was granted entrance and the sickly sight of humanity that reeked of lack of bath, food and many with open, uncared for injuries overwhelmed them. Sara immediately went to tend to the worst of wounds as Darthon called the children together to hear songs and stories. Desden joined a game of cards and increased the humor of many a man with his ribald tales and quick wit, regardless of the fact he was a rogue halfling, hated by most he now entertained. The thought to pick pockets came and went as Des realized whatever these poor folk might have was all they had.

Brian and Xavier, though now weaponless, chose to stand by the guards of the door, ready to take any that might enter without just cause with only bare hands. Darion could only watch in wonder as his fellows went to do what they best did. He fought back his worse thoughts and joined Michellana as she spoke to the guards at the stairs to the spire.

"I must enter the tower and I must do so now!" She spoke with a vehemence that overwhelmed even Darion. He helped her stand before them, seeing the injuries she had taken were all but the best of her.

"You may M'Lady, but only you!" replied the youthful guard, "It is my order that only one may ascend the tower and do so at their own risk! As strong as it stands it is under constant attack and may be the death of you and the entourage that must accompany you! I beg you don't go but have no means of ordering you not to do so! With so few fighters remaining, you will have to enter with my sister and cousin, both poorly prepared for battle."

"Call them forward, for there is nothing left for us to do," Michellana uttered as if she herself was to be the demise of these children. With but a gesture of the sentry two youthful warriors stood before her. One young fighter approached her, in chain clearly too large for his boyish frame. She all but gasped as an all too familiar vision came upon her, that of Sara some years past but without the signs of womanhood she had always known. The sparkling golden hair fell over her shoulders, the look of cheerful purpose remained in her eyes.

"Hello, we will accompany you to the tower," said she in a way that took Michellana back through time, to the meeting of a friend she had met tears past, "This is my cousin Alfred and who might be ye? I am Clara."

"Michellana." She could only answer in a whisper as she looked at the child then toward who she might become, Sara busy tending the wounds of those in the chamber behind her. "Let us carry on."

The three were at once granted egress and began ascending the spiral stairs. Many a sad tale was heard as they climbed. In one room a knight neared death, in another a maid cried as she tended the mortal wounds of her master, in the next a lady mother tried to calm her son...

"Momma, I am hungry."

"There is no food for us tonight, my child...come rest here in my lap."

The silence of the higher tower was soon replaced by a fearsome resonance, that of the wings of the dragons who now ruled the skies above and about them. The walls were scorched and seemed all too near to soon crumble. As they entered a room near the pinnacle, cold wind blew through a gaping puncture that was once a rampart. A blue dragon, already diving towards the tower, seemed to smile towards the three.

Michellana and Alfred backed against walls for refuge but Clara stood ground in the hole of the spire, drawing her sword for what would be her only attack in this life. "But when ye fall, ye WILL FALL!!!"

Electricity coursed through Clara's body but not before she could lay a blow upon the blue's chin. He looked in wonder at a wound never before felt, too late to find the road bearing upon him. He and his rider were in an instant part of the street cleaners' duties of the next day.

Michellana ran to Clara, holding the lifeless girl where she lay. Her hair was still as gold flecked honey, her cheeks retained their youthful glow, even the lovely smile remained but the spark in her eye was gone. Michellana laid her down gently, feeling as if she had lost a life long friend in but the moments she had known her. Alfred stood over this sight in wide eyed terror.

"We must continue," spake Michellana in hollow tones. "I also grieve for her." Alfred said nothing but continued up the stairs. Though she could make out his well stifled sobs, she felt it best to return to the matters at hand. As they reached the crest of the tower, with one portal between them and the night sky, Alfred stated,

"We are here. Now what is of such import that you have risked and I have lost so much to arrive?"

"I must go upon this pinnacle to complete my task." Alfred grabbed her hand as she reached for the door.

"Surely to go out there is to invite certain death! Do you not realize dragons abound in the night sky and you will be a close and clear target?"

"That I must and so shall be," she said and pulled open the entrance to the minaret's peak.

The wind blew terribly swift and hot, fanned by the many flames filling the city. Michellana looked in wonderment at the heinous destruction all about her of what had been the fairest town in the land. In but a moment her gaze turned skyward as several of the dragons prepared an attack flight. She blocked these sights from her mind and, facing north, prepared her spell.

The concentration of it was deeper than she had ever known. Alfred pulled her down just as a green spewed its poisonous vapors all over the parapet. The two all but fell down the stairs as they fled the gas. Michellana was uncertain of what her efforts had wrought if anything at all...in fact, she was not entirely sure what had transpired in the past few moments. All there was to do, having given away their position, was to follow the crumbling stairway back to where the others were. Alfred lovingly picked up Clara's remains as they descended.

Many were attempting sleep in the lower hold but all eyes flashed at the ceiling with each crash or explosion heard outside. This continued throughout the night until near dawn, when all fell silent.

The words grew louder as they were passed through the town. "The wall is breached! We are under attack!"

Mothers gathered children, guards clamored out the door. Darion was making arrangements for the return of the group's gear when a pretty young waif in the room rose, casting a menacing scowl as she cast off her tattered robe. She began to grow grotesquely, her once human beauty quickly replaced by that of an obscene nature, her fair skin succeeded by a sickly purplish hue.

"A drothenya!" yelled Brian. Of all the minions of darkness encountered by the party, these ranked among the most vile for their ability to transform at will, their power to seduce men's thoughts to the point of surrender or insanity and their final embrace that burned its victim in the very flames of Hades.

She spoke as she approached ten feet tall and assumed her statuesque form. "Fear not, fair folk for I have come to end your pain...at least in this life!" As she crossed her arms and closed her eyes all could feel the seductive power of the spell she conjured.

Des was at the ready. The blade hid in his boot in an instant protruded from her throat. Her spell broken, others in the room were upon her. Each table and chair about was in the hands of the people, all taking gruesome revenge for past injustices till a familiar wail was heard...that of the drothenya returning to whatever foul plane she came from.

Others in the party eyed Des in awe, who merely shrugged. "I just wasn't ready to go to the afterlife yet. Its much too much fun here!"

All were on the move. They were quickly led to the armoury where the fellows were shown their weapons and told to take whatever they might to assist in the coming battle. Darthon turned to Sara. "That fine plate should fit you well and, with your newfound standing as a fighter, it will serve you."

"That stuff?" retorted Sara. "It appears cumbersome and...well...unbecoming."

Michellana did not look up from the spell components laid about her. "This time you should heed your husband."

Within moments the party departed. Darion, Brian, Xavier and, with some reluctance, Sara wore the fine plate of the Knights of Palacia. Brian and Xavier carried fell polearms with old, trusted swords at their sides. Behind them strode Darthon with lute in hand, Michellana with spells at the ready and Desden appearing to be a walking arsenal, doing his best to keep pace with the others.

The dragons above circled, gliding down for what seemed strategic attacks. It was soon apparent that their charges were upon larger groups of soldiers, even if they were in battle with their own. There were areas of the town that at first seemed strangely undisturbed by the dragons until one neared these to be met by a barrage of arrows or a hail of magic fired upon them. A black turned its head to the band and turned to charge.

"I know...split!" spoke Xavier. The party ran for what cover it could. As the dragon descended and opened its foul maul to rain acid upon them, two fireballs exploded on it cast by Michellana and Darthon. The huge winged lizard turned away, dropping her dead rider in her escape.

The fellows fought fewer dragons after this but soon saw the end if no means were given to stop the governance of the sky by the enemy. They hacked at goblins, orcs and men in a frantic attempt to save Palacia and themselves when a brilliant reflection was seen to the north. All on the battlefield stopped to see the wings of gold, silver, brass and bronze approach. Within minutes the battle turned from even to won as the metallic dragons took over the air then the ground. "I knew it would work," mused Michellana.

The adversaries, or those intelligent enough to do so, turned and fled. Soon the city was clear and again secure. Darion instructed the party to do what they might best do. Xavier, Brian and Sara were to assemble warriors of their calling. Darthon and Desden went to gather what bards and rogues were up for battle. Michellana was instructed to gather fellow mages. After these orders were said, Darion was called aside by a captain of the Knights who was accompanied by a woman of unearthly beauty, her hair and robes the color of gold.

"We greatly appreciate the efforts of you and yours in saving our city. Will you accompany us to see the king?"

"Certainly," said Darion, unsure of what might be the reason for such an honor. Within moments he was led back to the tower and into a hidden chamber far below. There were assembled, around a huge table covered with maps of war, generals of all classes, priests, mages and these strange beings that were so handsome with hair the same color as their robes...gold, silver, brass and bronze. He could only hold his wonder as the aging King at the head of the consul rose and spoke.

"So you are Darion Langley of Crosston Wood. We welcome you and your endeavor as the fates proclaim! Now you and yours shall lead us in the battle ahead to save our beloved home."

"But what am I to do?" pleaded Darion. "I am but a simple woodsman. Surely there are greater leaders among you!" He felt cold sweat run down his cheek, his neck and spine for surely he found greater fear here than in facing a well armed enemy.

"I nor you can be ones to argue with destiny, my child. But before you can take lead of my forces there is one query you must answer: If you are to fight a foe one thousand miles' journey away what should you first be certain of?"

Darion puzzled over this some time before offering an answer.