A Tyrant, Sort Of

Banr had known dragons were some of the fiercest creatures in all of lore, but seeing one rip apart a literal aspect of an Old God was a sobering experience nonetheless. Any lingering doubts over whether Chieftain Kirak had been cowardly for so quickly bending to Lady Sable’s demands was erased after witnessing the dragon’s fight against the insane cultist. The firepower casually thrown around in that fight had been enough to level this city, had it not been focused on each other. Hells, even the collateral damage had left the town square blazing.

During the fight, Banr had been busy dragging back any of his squad members that had been incapacitated, so he hadn’t been able to hunker down and witness the spectacle in full. At least half of the team had lacked the mental and physical fortitude to stay conscious.

When Lady Sable had come out victorious, then took off into the sky to recover, Banr’s awe certainly hadn’t dampened at seeing the great serpent flee to lick her wounds. She’d gone head to head with an abomination of the Old Gods and walked away to talk about it. Three dozen of Rustspike’s classed had been fused into that behemoth, and then imbued with dark powers to boot, and it still hadn’t been enough.

And this was a juvenile dragon. The weakest the beast would ever be. The idea dizzied him. Maybe there’d been an opportunity to resist the tyrant when she’d been a newborn, but now? It wouldn’t just be suicide to act against her, it would be arrogant suicide.

Those were the thoughts that swirled around in Banr’s head as he dealt with the aftermath of the fight. Their circumstances weren’t great, abandoned in a major city of a hostile tribe. That said, the entirety of their opposition had been eradicated. Sixteen elite warriors could hold up against nearly any number of regular soldiers. It would be a test of endurance and not strength if Verindale chose to fight back.

But they weren’t interested in doing so. The rampant blue-white fire setting their town square ablaze needed to extinguished, and in doing so, Banr and his teammates had more than enough time to regroup and recuperate. The debilitating effect of the ritual had been short lasting. By the time the fight ended, most of the team was at least conscious again, if admittedly not at full fighting strength.

After regrouping, Banr and his team helped where they could with the fire, though none were elemental mages, and thus they were restrained to fighting the flames the mundane way. Fortunately, despite being magical in origin—and looking like it too, being white-blue flames—Lady Sable’s fire breath didn’t create supernaturally durable fire: with the joined effort, the potentially catastrophic threat was handled. Much of the town square was blackened, but they stopped it from spreading.

Shortly after that, Banr and his team took over the town hall. Rustspike leadership had been decimated twice over, and so the city was mostly headless, though a few people capable of negotiations could be scrounged up with effort. While the people of Verindale or the Rustspike tribe at large still hated both the Bonecrackers and Lady Sable herself enough to fight back, they simply lacked the leadership. A revolt would take weeks or months of organization. For now, the city belong to them.

When Lady Sable returned late into the night, Banr was pleased for their own sake that they’d handled the logistics of Verindale’s surrender. At least, the superficial parts of it. The Rustspikes were too broken of a tribe to muster any further resistance. Those remaining just wanted the chaos to be over.

Seeing the Great Tyrant’s glimmering white form—though still battle-scarred to some degree, not fully recovered—filled Banr with a new sort of fear. His blood had always run a little cold putting eyes on the legendary beast, but before, it had been respect borne of her species’s reputation. Now, having seen Lady Sable rip an eldritch abomination apart with tooth, claw, and mountains of magic, his wary respect was of a much more intimate sort.

Lady Sable seemed surprised the city had been taken care of in her stead; perhaps she’d thought she’d be coming back to rescue them and squash what remained of the resistance. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. Though they hadn’t been much use in the fight against the cultist, they had at least managed some part of their mission.

Which was good. He’d been worried about retaliation from Lady Sable since they hadn’t flung themselves headlong into certain death, trying to help with that calamity. His teammates had at least had the sense not to take advantage of the Lady’s weakened state—that would have meant certain death for the Bonecracker tribe. While she seemed more tolerant than the horrific reputations of dragons prior—in some ways, at least—Banr had no misconceptions whether that tolerance would extend to actual betrayal.

Not joining into the fight while nearly disabled from the ritual didn’t count as betrayal to her, though, thank the heavens. Plus having secured the city further endeared his team to the returning tyrant. Banr breathed a sigh of relief when she was briefed, surveyed the city, then continued on with her usual cold pragmatism.

Banr would admit the trip back to Skatikk had him slightly worried about whether they’d be taking an impromptu tumble through the air, but no such thing happened.

Finally, after regrouping in Skatikk, discussions with the Chieftain took place. Chieftain Kirak took the announcement of eldritch abomination and Lady Sable’s conquering of it in stride. He’d earned the title of the Ironhide Conqueror during his years as a warlord, and maybe he’d settled down in his twilight years, but that famous tenacity remained, just in different ways.

“I see,” Chieftain Kirak said. “It’s a troubling development, but it sounds like it’s been handled. The gem melted?”

“I believe it’s gone,” Aylin said, her tone making it clear she was relaying the dragon’s words. “We’ve seen the last of it.”

“Then have our plans changed?”

“No. But the delay means other tribes are in better positions for their own plans. The sooner we crush any hopes for them to claim Rustspike land, the less of an irritant they’ll be.”

An irritant. She described the total conquering and unification of the Red Plains in the way his wife might cleaning the basement. A tedious and annoying task, but something that simply needed to be done.

And after what Banr had seen? That was essentially the situation. Even the insane turn of events—the summoning of an aspect of the Old Gods—had been a slowdown for the dragon and nothing more.

It was hard to comprehend that kind of strength. Everyone knew it existed in far off lands, and had heard stories, but being part of it, and seeing direct demonstrations of that earth-cracking power, was something else.

“And we’re looking to repel them, for now? Nothing more?” Chieftain Kirak asked.

“For now,” Aylin said, sounding irritated—she tended to mimic the Great Tyrant’s emotions. A diligent translator. “I’ll have your people handle the diplomatic discussions. I don’t have time to squash each and every city myself. You’ll handle negotiations—“

Threats for annihilation, Banr amusedly corrected in his head.

“—and I’ll handle the dissenters, should they exist.”

“Of course,” Chieftain Kirak said. He didn’t sound surprised.

Banr supposed it made sense that the tyrant flying around and dominating each city herself would be too time consuming. Perhaps after her close encounter, she wanted to focus on getting stronger. That was a reaction Banr himself had had before. Nearly every classed of meaningful progression had gone up against a terrifying opponent and come out of the fight realizing that they ought to put more effort into getting stronger—both direct methods, as levels and items, but also simply becoming a better combatant. It was odd, realizing he might be sympathizing with a dragon.

“I’ll trust you’re capable of organizing the details yourself,” Aylin said. “You know my goals. My intent. Carry it out. The Bonecracker Tribe will be rewarded for being at the forefront. Arrange how you need me to finalize whatever efforts, but I’m not interested in the details.”

“And to what extent should we plan for your presence?”

“Critical movements and operations,” Aylin said. “Should you need me to transport some group of people, or supplies, I shall. Or otherwise break an important defense. As I said, avoid warfare. Secure our current assets, the rest of Rustspike territory, and negotiate the surrender of other tribes. Inform me of developments. How amenable each are.” She paused, then added, “And organize a steady tribute system for all dominated cities. Bonecrackers included.”

The collected leadership shifted in place. Obviously, this was a more personally troubling request. The rest of Lady Sable’s orders had been to dominate other lands, but this affected them directly.

“And how would you want that handled?” Chieftain Kirak asked.

“Your excess is now mine,” Aylin replied. “I don’t seek to drain and ruin your people, but I am not here to be your benevolent overlord.” The last statement ended with a bit of a sneer. “In exchange, you have safety.”

Safety from her, not just their enemies, was the implication.

And honestly?

Not that bad of a deal. By the standards of past dragon tyrants, it was more than a tolerable situation. Not ideal, having their treasuries drained to feed the dragon’s hoard, but none of their cities would be turning into smoking piles of tinder, so could they really complain?

After all the events of recent, and Lady Sable’s meteoric rise in power in just days, Banr could tell the rest of the assembled leaders agreed.

“Your will shall be done, Great Tyrant,” Chieftain Kirak said.

“Good,” Aylin replied. “Now, take me to your armory. I want to peruse it.”

That made everyone pause. Banr didn’t get the impression she meant to raid it, as she had with the treasury, but for some other reason.

“May I ask why?” Kirak asked mildly.

“I received my halfdragon form,” the dragon’s minion said. “Dungeon loot reshapes itself to accommodate the wearer, I’ve heard. It’s quicker than having a tailor create something for me.”

The confusion dispelled. “Right away, then,” Chieftain Kirak said.

“Someone unimportant can lead me,” Aylin said. “You finish organizing our next steps. I’ll return this evening to be informed.”

They did as they were told, and soon enough, someone was guiding the dragon and her minion toward the armory.

Banr, and the rest of the group, watched the serpent go, eyes tracking her glimmering white form as she was led away. Banr wondered how long it would take before her growing bulk would no longer fit down the street.

The silence lingered for a few moments, before Chieftain Kirak finally broke it by starting a discussion. They had work to do. Even with a bludgeon like a dragon on their side, it wasn’t an easy grouping of tasks they’d been given, and upsetting the Great Tyrant with a lack of timeliness was something no one was interested in trying. Not after recent developments.

A flicker of a shadow monster rampaging through the town square broached his thoughts, then a white serpent ripping and tearing it into pieces. He shivered before turning his attention to the discussion.