The Chronicles of Dayline

There weren't always Dragons in the Valley.

At one time the city of Vigilia was a raucous social center at which one might encounter almost any folk of the realm, but now the entire settlement appeared as something from a waking nightmare. Luckily many of the inhabitants who had not tried to fight made it to shelter in the network of smaller caves and tunnels at the base of the mountain range to the east. It seemed all who thought to stand against the horde perished in a matter of moments. Some of those corpses that had not been eaten or defiled still stood in the streets, scorched beyond recognition as normal creatures. The great halls had burnt nearly to the foundations, some smoke still rose from the ruins of the temple district. The Priests and Magic-Users had spelled powerful protection over the buildings, but it did naught to save their skins. They fell with the rest, and resistance the magics offered to the dragon swarm's assault seemed to infuriate them and served only to ensure the totality of the destruction.

Anastasia Dayline was one of those cursed to survive the nightmare. She had been in the tavern owned by her family, singing folk tales ever so sweetly to charm the guests whilst she toiled behind the bar. At the age of eighteen, the young woman knew and cared for every inch of the building like it was her own. Her papa had bought it with gold before she was born, supposedly a great purse from a king whose rich halls he had regaled with story for a season. Ana's father Tarn had been a bard, travelling much in his younger days, and told her of it all in song as she grew, fantastic epics of Kings and Knights, Vast Armies and Ships, of Creatures Great and Terrible.

When the first roars and screams pierced the normal lively afternoon cacophony of the pub, Ana looked to him. His face was ashen, and she saw something in his eyes she did not recognize. The afternoon regulars were crowding the door, attempting to lay eyes on the source of these outlandish sounds. Tarn caught his daughters wrist. His voice frightened her, so soft and cold. "Ana. you must listen. go now, run out back. Help any of the women and children you see and take them quietly, quickly now dear, to the mountains. Your mother will be returning from the forest with her company, I will go to her and then find you."

She stared at him, green eyes uncomprehending. "Papa, what.. You're frightening me." "GO!" He realized he was still holding tight to her hand. Releasing his grasp, he flicked a lock of her scarlet hair our of her eyes. "I love you, my darling. I will find you, but I have to help your mother. Your tale is yet being penned, you must hurry and get to the caves. The entrance may be small enough to afford safety, by all the gods I hope so."

He pulled her into a tight embrace. Anastasia looked up from his chest. Her father's jaw was set and his eyes were dark. He shoved her into the kitchen, and in a breath was gone. Ana's mind was racing. She seized her father's cloak and dagger from the back storeroom, then ran for the stable on the edge of the city, a throng of folks collecting behind her. Parents, bursting into the streets with little ones, saw one figure moving away with purpose, and ran after her when the screams fell upon their ears.

When Ana reached the stables, intent on rousing her lifelong friend from drunken slumber, the other young woman was already gone. Malta had lived as a street urchin as long as Ana had known her, indeed when she was young, most who saw her thought the young transient was a male child. Her visage was always filthy, unshorn hair matted into dreadlocks, she kept to herself mostly and accepted no charity. Ana's father had seen the unusual child in need and sensing something most did not, offered her tasks to earn provisions and coins. Eventually, unable to stand seeing the imp sleeping in the dirt and being abused by passers-by, Tarn asked the old Dwarven stable-owner Frigg, a longtime friend, to employ her.

Much to everyone's surprise, the wild child handled the most high-strung of mounts with no difficulty. The youngster always claimed not to know her parents, but as she grew up the truth of it became undeniable. The orphan grew into an exotic beauty. If one judged by her features, she was likely a result of a human warrior raping a Wilder elf maiden. With such blood in her veins she was ordinarily a exuberant terror, and Ana's perfect companion. The young barmaid reeled for a moment, her mates' blade and bow were missing from their usual hanging in the loft. Evidently Malta had run to join in the fray.

The throng that had been following Anastasia milled around uneasily. She swallowed a sob, and waved them along with her. Just as they reached the tree-line, Ana turned back, almost hopeful. Instead of anything she wished to see, a scenario of evil and death was already rising from the other end of the valley. Huge black wings flashed out of a growing cloud of smoke and darkness that seemed to be enveloping the North gates, and the screams of dying fighters followed great bursts of blue and red flames erupting from within the blackness. Her stride faltered and under the cloak her shoulder shook for a moment, then the sob she had swallowed earlier broke free.

Some of the others led the crowd into the forest, Ana's steps carried her with them but she was not aware. She understood now the look she had seen in her fathers eyes well enough. Terror lived behind the gaze of everyone wandering past her, and the young woman wondered if she might ever see anyone she loved again. Remembering suddenly her father's instructions, she palmed the tears from her cheeks. Heaving a great ragged breath that seemed to choke her more than help, she ran. Occasion earth-shaking crashes from the direction of the city kept the crowd moving through the trails for a distance, but a hundred yards or so in, a clearing opened up. The forest provided some cover, but the great thunder and roaring seemed to be rolling closer. Darting now through the forest and to the front of the crowd, Ana sprang up onto a great stone on the edge of the clearing.

"WITH ME!!" In the instant she felt absurd trying to shout quietly but her voice broke from the lump still in her throat, so it had the desired affect. Just as she turned to jump down, a monstrous shadow slid over the trees.

Instantly Anastasia felt deathly cold, for a moment it seemed there was no sound, no air to breathe. Her eyes flew upward as she spun, her one foot slipped, and the silhouette of the dragon gliding low over the treetops blotted out the blue of the skies. A half second of silence, she caught herself from falling flat with the quick right arm of a young man holding a tiny babe on his other side. He steadied himself, she tried to flash him a small smile of thanks, but the babe he held was startled, and wailed.

In the next half second all hell broke loose. The child's scream rang out across the clearing and everyone's panicked eyes landed on Anastasia and the young man. The behemoth overhead roared and wrenched its head downwards, spinning round in the sky quicker than seemed possible for something so enormous.

Ana shoved the young father forward into the trees, "Run! Just GO, RUN all of you. to the tunnels!" The group jumped into action, streaming through the trees. Anastasia turned, eyes flashing over the darkened clearing, she saw the last families heels disappear beside her into the undergrowth.

A great hot foul wind washed over her, a deafening roar, and she instinctively closed her eyes. For a short moment, Ana almost thought she was relieved, that this sudden demise would grant a reprieve from the loss of her family. But death by fire did not come. Instead, a thunderous crash, and the very air seemed to crackle with energy around her.

One eye opened, then the other, and Anastasia realized she was standing a scant few yards from a dragon. Staring directly into the eyes of a Great Dragon, actually.

The blast of air from its wings had flattened the forest for a short distance around them, so she stood, motionless, and stared the beast down. It almost seemed to have her entranced, the great apparition locked eyes with the human girl and did not move for what seemed like an eternity. Then the great beast began to inhale, seemed to grow larger in size if that were even possible. A light started to form around it, she couldn't be sure if the thing was on fire altogether of if it were glowing as an ember, and a lick of flame shot from one huge nostril.

Somehow Ana's mind began to work again, she shifted her weight to her heel, preparing to turn and run. Suddenly an arrow whistled, seemingly shot straight from the sky and thudded into the ground at the dragons feet. The beast snorted and stepped back, startled, and cast its head round angrily.

Out of the shadows to one side, a familiar figure appeared. Malta took one glance at Anastasia and strode to the Dragon's side. Ana watched in horror, the thing tossed its head and it glared at both of them, but did not move. Malta leaned in toward the beast, reached up with one hand to its massive jaw. Just as Ana had watched her handle and whisper to hundreds of horses over the years, the half elf maiden whispered something to the giant, and pushed softly on its face. With a deafening snarl and a heave and another hot rush of air, it was gone.

Malta turned again to Ana, who could not stand any longer. Her knees shook and then buckled, she dropped to the ground unconscious. Malta was there like a flash, and caught Anastasia's head before it hit the grass, picked her up effortlessly and disappeared into the forest towards the old tunnel entrance.

Illustration by Ninelives.Inkwork