On a mountain range in between Nihn and Azai

Far above the clouds that covered the mountain ridge, a temple stood alone, away from society. This was a place that no Human had ever stood in, yet it had been there for thousands of years. Countless generations back, the Fae had constructed many such temples across the world, all magnificent efforts of architecture and design. Yet for all their beauty, few still stood. The ever expanding Human race had razed most of these magical temples, yet this one hidden at the top of a mountain still stood.

It was here on this mountaintop temple that the Masque gathered. Comprised of the leaders of the various magical creatures, the Masque gathered here three times a year, to guide those under them into a safe life. It was their duty to make the rules that governed all magical creatures, their duty to protect their greatest secret: the glamour of man. It was this enchantment that allowed them to assume the form of a Human, a necessary ability to survive in this age.

The Masque had just finished their tri-annual meeting a few hours back, with some of their members already leaving. But even though the official meeting was over, a smaller meeting was being held by some of the more prominent members of the Masque. In a side chamber, four creatures stood in a circle, deep in conversation.

A large brown furred Werewolf, Queen Mother Brigga, began to speak, “The Humans have gone too far. Every day there is less forest for my brothers and sisters to live in. And they consume all the animals. What are we to hunt?”

A bright white Unicorn, Lord Helaton, replied in the language of the magical creatures, “Long have I spoke this truth. We cannot survive like this. Every generation less Unicorn foals are born. I know it is the same with your kind as well.”

A black scaled Dragon, so large that he barely fit in the room, King Bahamut, then cut in, “What do you want us to do? If we fought them, we would lose. Maybe in ages back it was possible to cull the Human numbers, but in our current state we can do nothing. All we have is the Masque. We need to follow it to survive.”

Brigga hissed, “Maybe we should fight them, even if we die. It would be better than us slowly rotting away with each new generation.”

“What would have been better is if our ancestors left with the Fae,” Helaton added, “They would be ashamed to see the state we are in.”

“Perhaps,” spoke a vibrant red Phoenix, Empress Elvestria, “But we cannot change the past. We need to focus on the present. And right now we have a pressing issue.”

“One that you didn’t raise at the council meeting?” Bahamut asked.

“Yes, I did not wish to raise any alarms. I entrust this information only to those in this room,” Elvestria said sternly.

Helaton briefed in sharply, “Well spit it out.”

“I have reports that Humans have broken the Masque. In that they are aware of the glamour of man,” she said quickly.

“How is that possible?” Bahamut asked in surprise, “Every one of us has followed all the rules of the Masque.”

Elvestria sighed, “I don’t know how they learnt it, they just did. Several of my Phoenix kin have seen groups of Humans attacking magical creature settlements, ones who always use the glamour. Somehow they have a way of figuring out who is a magical creature.”

“Damn it,” Helaton swore, “Is this knowledge widespread?”

“It doesn’t seem to be. At least not yet,” Elvestria replied.

“Then I say we hunt down these Humans, erase their blight from the world,” Brigga snarled.

“I agree with my Werewolf compatriot,” Bahamut said, “We must do all we can to protect the Masque.”

“I’ve already sent several Phoenixes to investigate this matter,” Elvestria stated, “But perhaps each of you should send out your agents.”

“I shall send the fastest of Unicorns post haste,” Helaton replied.

“And I the fastest of Dragon fliers,” Bahamut added.

“All of my Werewolf kin will hunt down these Humans,” Brigga said boldly.

“Then we are decided,” Elvestria nodded, “We shall eliminate these Human hunters and maintain the Masque. If everything goes well, then none shall know this occurred, save us.”

All four of the magical creatures nodded, before departing the room. As they left they transformed back into their Human forms. It was custom for the Masque to do this upon leaving the Fae temple, in case they encountered any Humans up in the mountains.

As the four council members began to descend down the mountain, an ominous wind blew over the range. The fading sky of day was a blood red, an ill omen, one thought to mean that their would be great killing. King Bahamut said a quiet prayer in the language of the Fae, praying for the safety of every Dragon.



The forests of Kaelis, just east of Whistle Hill

Onthal flew through the night sky, his massive green form invisible in the darkness to anyone looking up. It was a common Dragon practise to fly at night. Not only was beautiful to fly under starlight, but it also had the more practical use of avoiding the eyes of Humans. Even now, Dragon slayers were still a major threat to Dragons. But that wasn’t really a concern, as in his over two hundred years of life he had never encountered one.

Onthal was just enjoying the flight as he passed over the vast forests of Kaelis. Onthal had been living among the woods of Kaelis for several years now, and he knew the area quite well. He could probably reach his destination with closed eyes.

As for his destination, Onthal was heading toward Whistle Hill, a small village in the middle of Kaelis. Onthal had been there several times, spending quite a bit of time there. It helped that it was secretly a Dragon village, so he could truly be himself there.

But this wasn’t just a friendly visit this night. Tomorrow was Virtue Day, a holiday in Dragon culture. Most Dragons still practised this ancient holiday. It involved gathering with other Dragons and reminiscing about all the good things that had happened in the past year.

Onthal had spent the last few Virtue Days in Whistle Hill, as he knew that location would always house fellow Dragons. As Onthal got older, he seemed to value tradition more. In his youth there would be many years where he didn’t celebrate Dragon holidays, instead living among the Humans. But that had changed as he became more wise with age. He now saw how fragile the Dragon race was, and why he needed to preserve their culture.

Onthal purposely re-oriented his thoughts to that of positive memories of Virtue Day. A smile formed on his face, or as close as a Dragon could muster. But the smile quickly faded as Onthal saw some lights in the distance. Straining his vision, it did appear to be torchlight. But it was the middle of the night, why would anyone be out?

Curious, Onthal began to beat his wings faster, wanting to discover what was going on. But as he got closer, Onthal saw that the light now covered a much greater area. He quickly realized that it wasn’t torchlight, but that the forest was on fire.

As Onthal beat his wings faster, he got within eyesight of the village of Whistle Hill. Like the nearby woods, the buildings of the village were also on fire. Standing outside the buildings were several armed men, some torching the buildings. They were shouting at each other with what sounded like a Nihn accent.

Onthal wished to intercede, but knew he must respect the Masque. So he doubled back a few hundred meters from the village and landed among the burning underbrush. As his mighty Dragon touched the ground, Onthal then transformed into his Human guise. With spear in hand he began to sprint back toward the village.

As Onthal neared Whistle Hill, he gripped his spear harder. He had seen several Human warriors, easily enough to overwhelm Onthal in Human form. But Onthal lived by the Masque. He couldn’t reveal the glamour of man and he had to aid any other magical creature in danger, and burning alive in their houses counted as danger.

As Onthal exited the tree line and stepped into the village, he raised his spear at the nearest Human, “Why are you committing such atrocities?”

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N E A R W H I S T L E H I L L
P R O V I N C E O F K A E L I S

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The night sky was beautiful and clear, almost clear enough to remind Adiran of the stars above the mountains in Nihn. An open night sky in the north with the chilled winds and silence, there was nothing quite like it; his spiked, silver scales were built to blend in to the fringes of the mountain tops. The travel around the various different places in the world had been exciting, but nothing beat a familiar place. The main part of the reason he flew above the towering trees of the Province of Kaelis was for the purpose of heading to Whistle Hill. The small city had been home to him for the time he spent in Kaelis during his travels and he was fond of the people and town itself. It helped that he didn't have to worry about his true form most of the time while he was there.

It had been some time since he'd visited. There were other places to see, mostly in the southern islands, but it was much too hot for his tastes. He did miss the quaint space, but the main thing he had missed was the towns' celebration of Virtue Day. He and his family hadn't been much for the traditional holidays when he was at home, but the skepticism he felt in regards to a larger celebration was quickly dashed as everyone gathered together to speak about the previous year.

Adiran was snapped out of his thoughts by the light he could see on the horizon. "That's strange." He banked a bit lower to the ground, keeping a careful eye on the growing point in the distance. Blue eyes widened in horror as he was finally able to see the plumes of smoke rising off the city and surrounding forest.

He was far enough away that he could hit the ground in his draconic form and shift quickly into his human guise without fear of being seen by anyone who may be out in the village trying to suppress the fires, or who may be causing them. He pulled both of his swords from their sheaths across his back as he ran towards the entrance; a pair of slightly curved shortswords that can to a wicked point made of a silvery blue tinted metal that matched his scales in his draconic form. He had no idea what to expect and he'd rather be safe than sorry.

The fires were bright and based on the number of people in the streets it was likely most were trapped in their homes still. He could hear shouts of a familiar accent, humans from his homeland best he could tell from the distance he was at. He pushed into the village with a purpose, there was a tentative possibility that his frost based magics might be able to control the flames enough at certain points for some to escape. However, there would be no hope for the magical creatures here if the humans were still present and the risk of the Masque being broken was too much for Adiran's tastes.

He caught sight of a figure he was fairly certain he recognized as someone who had visited Whistle Hill during his time. The solid build and the unique spear he wielded stood out as familiar, but he could at least pick out an ally when he saw one given where the spear was currently directed. There was no way just the two of them would be able to take out all of the humans here, but he wasn't about to let this stand.

Gripping his swords tighter in his hands, he quickly moved to stand next to the other man. Adiran gave a subtle nod towards him before glaring at the human who had the spear pointed in his direction. He defended this village while he was here and he wasn't about to let it fall to some northern human warriors. Despite his attachment to his old mentor the Masque meant more.

All things considered, it had been a rather lovely evening flight for Droka. While his efforts to secure the future of dragon kind in Nihn were absolutely vital and worthy of any sacrifice, discarding his masks to be himself and take to the sky was a pleasure that he hadn't been able to embrace for a few years now. It was a small, personal thing but... often the small things were what made fighting for the big things worthwhile.

The fact that he had been flying back into his homeland on Virtue Day was a happy coincidence; A quirk of the cosmic dice falling into place. Like flying or being in his true form, Virtue Day had been one of those small pleasures that had to be forgone for the greater picture... but he hadn't seen any harm in partaking of the festivities while the opportunity had presented itself.

Unfortunately, those plans had quickly gone out the window when it became clear that Whistle Hill village was on fire and actively being attacked! That sort of thing tended to ruin the festive spirit. In Droka's case, it replaced what was going to be good cheer and fellowship with his fellow dragon with an intense, so cold that it burned murderous rage.

Having landed a short distance away in order to scout out the situation on foot, Droka made the decision not to change into his human form. He was stronger in his dragon form in both magic and physical power and he fully intended to take advantage of both shortly. After all, the Masque was only breached if humans saw a magical creature turn into a human... and the Masque couldn't be broken if there were no witnesses to tell the tale.

However, charging into a fight (even with his natural advantages, plus the element of surprise) somewhat blindly was not something that the black dragon was going to do. A better idea presented itself to him.

Hidden among the shadows of the woods surrounding the lit up Whistle Hill, Droka concentrated as he started to draw upon the shadows of the night in order to sculpt an illusion of a young, red dragon in the smoke filling sky on the opposite side of the village. It was modeled on no one he personally knew, but was based more on the stories that humans had told themselves about dragons over the years; Covered in spikes, massive fangs and claws and a look in its eye of a murderous predator that had found both prey and a challenge to its territory and was intent to dedicate all the rage that its basic, animal like brain could muster to rip and tear both to shreds.

Once his distraction was ready, it began its performance as it started to swoop down towards the burning village, letting out a massive roar that filled the air as a quick, secondary illusion was thrown towards the Nihn raiders that one of their number. The exact person was unclear, but the human mind tended to fill in the gaps by itself... and the important information the voice was conveying was rather pressing and demanded imitate attention. "DRAGON INCOMING!"

Said 'dragon', as it entered the light of the village proper, turned its head to strafe some of the buildings with a burst of flame before it turned its head to start its approach of the marauders proper (a keen observer might have noticed that the buildings in question had been on fire to begin with and, after having been beset with dragon flame, didn't seem any more on fire then they were before. However, such an observer would have to completely miss the very loud, angry dragon that was flying straight at them).

Landing on the ground with a heavy thump and a quick illusion to make it seem like the ground had shaken briefly, the red 'dragon' roared its beastly, primal challenge at the Nihn marauders from no more then ten meters away from them.

Things were not as Lumia had imagined them to be, and they certainly were not going according to plan. Not that there was ever really much of a plan, that is. Truly, Lumia didn’t know what she expected but it never involved this many humans. She had never seen so many of them before but they were everywhere on the mainland, it reminded her of an old joke her uncle used to say about them being like moon thistle- a non-native invasive plant species that was a nuisance on their island. Maybe it was less of a joke and more of just the plain truth. Ever since she had arrived on the mainland after making her way up, island hopping along the South, humans seemed to be an inescapable presence. She never realized until now just how isolated she had been, how isolated her whole village, Taubu, was. She was learning so much now about how the world around her really worked.

Beyond being surprised and disheartened by the overwhelming presence of humans, Lumia found herself struggling to fit in, as before on the island she had been free to spend as much time as she wanted in her natural form in the safety of her village. But there was no complete sense of peace of mind here on the mainland for her yet. Even if isolated from the mainland, the rules of the Masque were ever present in Taubu and being in such an unfamiliar place for the first time with so many humans around she was constantly on guard.

However, outside of that, her first time leaving home was shaping up to be quite the experience and she had managed to find little boroughs of their kind as she traveled and other magical beings. The foresty terrain was also familiar, though many of the trees and plants were very different from the ones on Osmines. She found as she made her way inland that she missed the ocean, but learned to appreciate the lakes and rivers. Familiarity was a solace out here, and it was what she was currently seeking as she was looking forward to Virtue Day. In Taubu, it was always a big deal because it was often one of the few times relatives and friends of the villagers from the mainland ever made their way to the island to visit all at once. And Lumia had caught word about a dragon village known as Whistle Hill, which is where she was now headed so she could spend the holiday with her people.

It was turning out to be a beautiful night and Lumia was enjoying the fine, gentle breeze between her wings as she flew over the forests of Kaelis. This wouldn’t last however as she caught glint of a tiny bright fire on the horizon. Then, she caught a whiff of the smoke, and the closer she got she came to realize that fire was not so tiny at all. In fact, it seemed to be a whole town. Surely, this could not be Whistle Hill?

Approaching the city she drew a large cloud around herself so as to disguise her presence as she flew over to see what was happening. It was with great horror as she watched the humans attack the village. Never before had she witnessed firsthand the violence of humans, only ever hearing the occasional stories from older dragons who had been to the mainland or part of the guard that protected their island. She could see quite a few of her kind still around, a few in their glamours, some already fighting back. Almost out of nowhere, a large, red dragon swooped down over the village and Lumia honestly had to double check her own eyes, as it almost seemed impossible and yet there it was.

Her attention was quickly taken away though to some dragons retreating from one of the burning buildings. But they were being followed by some human fighters who had caught sight of them. Lumia drew nearer and from her cloud she unleashed a violent stream of water from her mouth, knocking back the humans. Taking a deep breath in, she nodded her head forward, eyes closed and flapped her wings more. Thick, dark clouds formed off of hers and sank down low, creating a thick wall of fog that they would not be able to navigate through. This would allow some time for those dragons to get away and recoup.

Staying along the outskirts in her cloud, Lumia checked to see if there were any more dragons she could help and she noticed two dragons who had their weapons drawn on one of the human warriors. She hovered in the area, awaiting to see how the situation went. They looked more than capable but she could always drop down in her human form should any healing be necessary.

Sangu

Outside Whistle Hill

For most dragons, a long journey might be seen as an opportunity. It was one of those rare occasions they could shed their human disguise without fear, taking to the skies to stretch their wings and enjoy a moment away from prying human eyes. They'd soar up above the clouds, getting a lungful or two of untainted air and relishing the feeling of the wind catching in their fins, caressing their scales...

... at least, that's what Sangu imagined most dragons might do, but then again, Sangu wasn't most dragons. For him, flight was a slower, clumsier affair, and interspersed with rest-stops as his wings had a tendency to start hurting after a little. It was neither enjoyable nor practical. No, a good journey for Sangu would involve a lot more swimming, or at least slivering, and neither were particularly viable here, at least if he didn't want to be caught. So Sangu had settled for a compromise, something that was slower but still relatively comfortable, and had spent (most of) his journey in human form.

Had he approached Whistle Hill from the air, he may have noticed sooner that something was amiss, but instead of seeing the light of the flames or even catching the scent of burning wood, the first sign that things were wrong was a sudden stroke of dizziness that overcame him while strolling down the road. He felt overcome with light-headedness, the air much warmer and more stagnant than it had been moments before. He had to stop and take a rest, even checking himself of any signs of illness or poison. Sangu was a cautious dragon, keeping his distance from others when in civilization and always alert when not, but even he was capable of falling victim to some malady every now and again.

With just a vague look over, he couldn't detect any signs of injury or rash. Weirder still, when he felt his forehead, he noticed that he didn't seem to have a temperature, even though his brain felt like it was starting to bake within his skull. It could potentially be some kind of delayed reaction to the cuisine in the last town he passed through - that trout he had been served was at the forefront of his mind - but this seemed a bit extreme for a bit of food-poisoning.

As he was considering what might be wrong, he finally began to note the smell of burning, and raised his head up to see the smoke forming above.

Well, that can't be good, he thought. He glanced around to make sure no one was looking and, taking a few steps into heavier foliage, dropped his human disguise and took to the air. He saw the light in the distance, flames flickering from the smouldering wreck of what was once a village.

Yes, that was definitely not good.

His features settled into a wide reptilian approximation of a grimace as he soared a little closer, the searing pain in his mind only growing worse. This confirmed that he wasn't sick, but instead that his physical discomfort was a symptom of his own magic, the connection he had with the trees, flowers and all other forms of plant life in the vicinity. Toxins, flames, careless destruction of the environment... Every time something like that happened near him, he felt a fraction of that pain, both in his body and soul.

He landed on the sturdiest tree he could find, wrapping his serpentine form around it as he took a moment to regain his strength and consider his next move. On one claw, he and fire weren't exactly compatible, and in his current condition, he wasn't sure how much help he could be. On the other, this settlement was likely Whistle Hill, his destination where supposedly many of his own kind flocked to in the guise of man. If his own people were down there and they were in trouble, he couldn't just leave them. Besides, the forest itself seemed to be crying out, begging for someone, anyone to help...

Sangu sighed as he uncurled from the tree and took to the air once more. He flew slightly higher, hoping his grey scales would cause him to be difficult to see against the smoke. He wasn't exactly sure what he was dealing with right now, if there was an attack or this was some kind of natural disaster, if anyone needed saving or he was too late anyway. All he knew was that he wasn't about to rush in until he knew what was going on.

Onthal
The village of Whistle Hill

The Dragon, currently in his Human guise, scowled at the three soldiers standing in front of him. With spear raised, Onthal made his intentions clear. While the Masque did forbid many things, it did allow for the deaths of Humans if necessary. And killing fellow magical creatures was definitely a necessary reason. Before the soldiers could reply to what Onthal said, another man came out from the tree line, brandishing twin blades. While he didn’t say anything, Onthal was able to detect that the glamour was in use. The fellow magical creature nodded at Onthal, as he raised his weapons at the soldiers as well.

“Are you two idiots?” the soldier laughed, “Get out of here. You have no business here. And this doesn’t concern you.”

Before Onthal could say anything to the soldier, a mighty roar echoed over the village. Onthal immediately looked up, a look of confusion coming over his face at what he saw. A massive red Dragon flew over the village, which caused Onthal to wonder why any Dragon would risk the safety of Masque. After all, Whistle Hill was supposed to have nothing to do with Dragons.

One of the soldiers alerted the others to the presence of the Dragon, as it breathed flame at the various buildings of the village. This confused Onthal further, as no Dragon would ever attack their own kind. But as the red Dragon landed a few meters from him, Onthal realized what was going on. As the mighty red Dragon roared again, it was now close enough to Onthal for him to notice it emitted great magic. The Dragon wasn’t real. While Onthal had heard of illusion magic, he had never known anyone who had such advanced skill to recreate a whole Dragon.

Onthal wanted to look around to see if he could spot the illusion caster, but stopped as he realized that he had to keep up the lie that he had a Dragon on his side.

A nervous soldier raised his bow, aiming at Onthal, “So it’s true! These heretics have Dragons working for them!”

So they knew at least that this village had Humans and Dragons working together, but did they know about the glamour? While Onthal contemplated this, something caught his gaze from further down in the village. A blue and purple Dragon blew a stream of water at soldiers who were chasing several villagers, before retreating back into the sky. Onthal was glad that someone was rescuing the villagers while he and the others were attracting the attention of most of the soldiers.

The soldier kept pointing his arrow at Onthal, “Let’s just kill them.”

But before he could fire, a thick fog rolled in from farther into the village. Taking advantage of this, Onthal sprinted away from where he once stood. An arrow whizzed by him, impaling itself into a burning tree. Onthal followed the path of the arrow back to the archer. With a quick movement, Onthal lunged his spear into the soldier’s neck. It sprayed blood as he collapsed to the ground.

“Come brothers! We have the advantage!” Onthal stated while running through the fog.

@PrankFox @Bright_Ops @QuinnWolfe @XxFellsingxX

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W H I S T L E H I L L
P R O V I N C E O F K A E L I S

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Of course these types of people wouldn't think just two of them were capable of taking out everyone who was present here. Maybe they couldn't in their human forms, but that only reinforced the scowl that was spreading across Adiran's face. He knew the purpose of the Masque but it would be so much easier to deal with these assholes if they could just tear them apart with teeth and claws.

This definitely concerned him, in more ways than one, and he had friends in Whistle Hill. He hoped they were alright. The scowl was now firmly fixed on his face at the sheer arrogance, "I believe it's you and your troops who have no business here. We have every right to kill you where you stand."

That train of thought, and anything else he may have said, were immediately cut off by the sound of a roar and flash of fire. He followed the other man's gaze to see the red dragon breath fire on...an already burning house. Breaking the Masque and attacking a city known for its population of magical creatures amongst the rest of them-that made no sense. He looked closer as it slammed loudly onto the ground nearby them and saw the glimmer of magic surrounding it. An illusion then, and a rather impressive one at that. Well, he wasn't about to let a good distraction go to waste, or give it away.

Adiran resisted the urge to laugh at the stupidity of humans. It honestly surprised him every time how dense they were. No matter, it just made it easier to get rid of them quickly. Hopefully with the distraction of the illusory dragon along with some of the other dragons he could see slipping in and out helping protect the townsfolk. That certainly made him feel better and able to focus on the main threat in front of him. Which was currently the soldier pointing an arrow at the other glamoured individual next to him.

His muscles tensed in preparation to lunge forward at the soldier but paused as the fog rolled in. He watched the other man sprint off and dodged around to the opposite side as the arrow whisked past. Despite not seeing it clearly he heard the sound of someone getting stabbed and took that as his que. He pulled on his innate magic and ran a quick hand across both his blades imbuing them with the freezing cold of his mountain home. The mist that bled off of them only adding to the eerie fog and strange glow of the burning city.

He followed after the sound of the voice of the other magical creature, for once thankful of learning to hunt in less than ideal conditions while living in blizzard conditions for much of his life, as his ears caught the sound of someone to his left. A quick twist to the side prevented a blade from sinking past Adiran's armor, and a downward cross-swing sliced into the solider sending jagged shards of ice outwards from the wound. The soldier staggered back giving him the perfect opportunity to slam his other blade under his ribcage sending the solider to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Two more soldiers appeared from the fog, no doubt drawn in by the sound of one of their own being cut down. Dealing with two people at once was not what he'd hoped, but he brought up his blades nonetheless.

Up above in her clouds, Lumia watched the battle unfolding beneath her and for a moment in time things felt frozen. This whole thing was such a turn of events from what her journey through the mainland had been so far. Not only that but she was partaking in combat more intense than she had ever been in and somehow she was managing to be helpful even though she felt way out of her depth. This was the destruction and chaos her village had worked so hard to keep at bay and away from their island, and she was a part of that fight now.

She was quickly taken back to reality however, at the sounds of blades clashing and the disturbing gurgles and splurshes of men being stabbed and wounded. From her vantage point she kept an eye out for any more retreating dragons, parting narrow sections of the fog for paths to escape and closing the fog back up quickly behind them. When it seemed everyone who needed to had gotten out safely she began focusing more on the offensive, focusing on helping any of her kind who found themselves cornered or outnumbered.

Had any of these humans ever experienced what it was like to literally have your head stuck in a cloud? She wondered to herself, setting upon her target and doing exactly that, engulfing the soldier’s head in a thick, heavy, rain cloud as he and another human were about to attack one of the glamored dragons. The process would simulate the effects of drowning, and hopefully even out the fight a little. Cocking her head to the side she tried to remember how long exactly it was humans could hold their breath again, she just knew it was a fairly short amount of time. The man would struggle to get away from the cloud and upon realizing he couldn’t would succumb to his panic, quickening his incapacitation as he ran out of air and fell to the ground. When he was down she didn’t stop there, moving off to continue helping her kind on the battlefield, alternating between blasting them off their feet with violent streams of water or suffocating them with her clouds.

There had been several layers of wisdom to Droka's illusionary distraction. The first and most basic had been as an intimidation tactic, since as far as humans seemed to be aware dragons were little more then mindless, destructive beasts with a great deal of power behind them and thus any sane bandit in this situation would have recognized that the village and everything in it was doomed so they should grab what they could and run while the fire breathing lizard was distracted because you couldn't enjoy your spoils if you burst into flame. The Marauders were not doing this.

The second layer was to bait out exactly what kind of arsenal the Marauders had access too. Any militant force that was confident enough in their ability to try and take on a dragon head on would, logically, revel their trump card as soon as possible because the kind of zealotry required to knowingly throw ones life away trying to stall an overwhelming enemy was difficult to instill in the average solder. While its doubtful the illusion would actually survive any actual attack sent at it, baiting the enemy to revel what they had that might counter a dragon did mean that 1) He now knew what it was. 2) It had just been used to try and attack a fake dragon, so if it was a spell or a weapon it might need time to recharge or reload. 3) Whatever it was, it was now facing the opposite direction of an actual dragon. This also didn't happen, but this could be attributed to the fog cover someone had created.

The third layer, connected to the second, was the discovery of information. These men had heard that there would be dragons here, protecting the village. Granted, the fact that they clung to this idea despite the fact that the only dragon they had clearly seen had made its entrance by attacking said village suggested the humans in question were a bit one minded and stupid, but this betrayed that they had been sent here for more then just to raid and pillage; They had been sent to confirm or dispel the rumors.

With this in mind, Droka did not jump into the defense of Whistle Hill. Instead he stalked off in order to scout out and prowl the surrounding area instead. The fog cover of the village meant that he didn't need to put anywhere near as much detail or effort into maintaining the illusionary dragon as before since all he really needed to project was a vague outline in the smoke, loud hangry roaring and the occasional burst of bright, fire like light in order to maintain the illusion that there was a angry dragon present.

Droka now had two goals in mind. The first was to ensure that none of the scouting marauders who would flee Whistle Hill (and considering the number of masked creatures and unmasked dragons who were subtly defending the place, that rout was likely to start soon enough) escaped with their lives. The only thing a dead scout reported to their master was that an area was dangerous. The second was more a theory, but if these scouts had been sent in by their commander with the foreknowledge that there was a good chance they would not be coming back, an effective bastard would ensure that there were other scouts a safe distance away from the village, observing what happened to the group being sent in. If this was the case, they needed to be hunted down and killed before they could flee into the night.