The Duel
After a quick respite on Ravnica, Asmund had returned to Jarguund. The waning winter began to give way to the spring muddy season. Working more toward Draconia’s favor, the mud stalled Asmund’s troops as they slowly advanced southwest through the ruined countryside. Draconia subscribed to the scorched earth policy, destroying whatever they could not hold as the Rovridarren and Underhall armies advanced. Today, the sun rose through a heavy ash cloud, the burnt orange light casting strange shadows across the landscape. Two field armies, nearly eighty thousand strong each, marched across the Ashen Hold, a small state within the Draconian border. The Ajikin front had closed just the day prior, to Asmund’s delight, and Fiske was marching his forces southward; the tribesmen had not lasted too long against Fiske’s gunpowder and magics. Asmund's great armies marched across the plains of ash as volcanic clouds roiled above. Comeon the Gleaming, a golden dragon two hundred years younger than Asmund, joined him, gliding just below the hot cloud layer. The bright dragon was Asmund's blacksmith, a brilliant mind who could weave wonderful enchantments. Asmund and Comeon scanned the horizon, searching for the enemy. Rovriddaren scouts had reported just a day prior that a small force, protected by a great red wyrm, were headed westward. Asmund had set the course to intercept the enemy. Comeon was the first to pass through the Draconian enchantment. Asmund followed as his companion roared in confusion, and then rage. The seemingly empty landscape was covered in far larger than just a "small enemy force". Asmund counted many legions of knights, footmen, and siege weapons, arrayed across the field, waiting for his armies to walk into the trap. Comeon's roar turned into a pained cry as a ballista bolt slammed into his right shoulder. The white dragon, seeing his friend, lashed out with his magic, searching to tear down the enchantment covering and bolstering the enemy. Blue mana surged and tore the enchantment away, and the quick, harried calls of Asmund's war horns sounded. The enemy charged as the ice dragon's forces scrambled to ready themselves for battle. Comeon, enraged, called out, "Prepare for battle! Ready yourselves! Defend your Lord!" Warriors cried out, squares of infantry and charging groups of cavalry formed, meeting the enemy on the rolling fields of ash. Asmund's focus disappeared as blinding pain erupted in his right side, hot magma spreading through his veins. His violet eyes struggled to focus as he bent and rolled away from the newest threat. The red wyrm had come. Horror spread across Asmund's face as he regained his wings and wits. "Hello, dearest Asmund," a venomous voice called across the wastes, carrying over the sounds of battle, "it is good to see you again." "Varsephyss." Asmund trembled, the great red dragon easily twice his own size, if not larger. The true leader in Draconia, Varsephyss led the Council of Wyrms. She was the greatest, most cunning dragon Asmund had ever known. Perhaps her brilliance and strength is what had wooed Asmund, those many years ago. The Lord Baron was afraid of very little in the multiverse. Varsephyss filled Asmund with fear, and loathing. "Nothing to say, Lord Baron?" Her words were filled with loathing and contempt. "Your stubborn foolishness has gone on for far too long, my Little Snowflake. It is time to cleanse your little rebellion from Jarguund once and for all. Fight me, Asmund, as we should have th-" Varsephyss's speech was cut off as bolts of ice and mana screeched across the gray sky. She roared, dodging the initial bombardment, spitting flame into the air between them. "You always liked to talk, Varsephyss," Asmund shout, hurling another spell across the ashen air, hoping to suspend her in the Blind Eternities, if only for a short while. "Fight me!" The red wyrm laughed with disdain, casually knocking his spell aside; a group of her own infantry disappeared in a flash. She charged forward, slamming into the smaller white dragon, breathing bright orange flames across his face. Asmund roared in anger, their claws raking at one another's flesh, the scales on his snout turning an ugly black. His magical plate, made from both steel and mithril, protected his chest and upper torso, but Varsephyss's claws sliced through his lower body. Asmund's vision exploded red as he used his own breath weapon, ice locking the wyrm's jaw closed. A screech erupted from her closed maw as Asmund felt blood and entrails beginning to cover his lower claws. The pair began to fall. Focusing, Asmund channeled white mana through his body, trying desperately to repair his innards. To his horror, Varsephyss only redoubled her efforts in eviscerating him. The white gem in his Crown Jewels exploded, a cloud of ice and snow blasting outward between the two dragons. Varsephyss was forcefully disengaged, her roars of fury carrying over the wasteland. Asmund barely caught himself, slamming into the ground. He struggled to stand. His eyes found Varsephyss, surrounded by her troops, landing lightly. The dragon spot a small tangle of intestine, wrapping itself up as the wyrm's red hide repaired itself. "Weak," Varsephyss began, spitting the words, pushing her troops out of the way, "as always." The fighting raged on on the far wings of the armies, but the center had quieted. Asmund's warriors and shamans gathered around him; many cast what spells they could, trying their best to bolster their Lord Baron's strength. "Lay down, you worthless lizard. No one cares for you, and your death will only aid Jarguund. Should you give in, I will let your filthy little nation die swiftly." Her words dripped with venom, the red wyrm's fury and loathing evident. Asmund could not flee. His people were relying upon him. His nation could not survive Varsephyss's wrath. The ice dragon struggled to regain his feet. The battle quieted. Comeon landed heavily behind Asmund, tearing out the great spear with his teeth. The pair circled each other. White and red on a field of gray. They sized one another up. Varsephyss struck first, a plume of flame lancing out as her tail slammed into Asmund's snout. He roared in pain, reeling. She replied with a blinding bolt of lightning, striking him in between his shoulder blades. Great, sword-like teeth gripped Asmund's back right leg as he flailed blindly. His roar turned to a high pitched squeal. The ruby on his Crown Jewels erupted in time with a nearby volcano. Rage filled Asmund, his blood becoming unusually hot. His stupor was broken as ice covered Varsephyss's maw once more, teeth shattering in the cold. The dragon's fury exploded out of him, a flurry of spells leading his charge forward. He slammed teeth and claws first into Varsephyss's right side. Asmund tore into her side; blood and muscle were exposed to the burnt orange dawn. He breathed ice deep into her wounds as she cried out in anger. The dragon climbed onto the back of Varsephyss, battering at her mind with his magics. She reeled, rolling to dislodge her small foe. Asmund detected a surface thought as her massive form crushed him into the viscous, ashy mud. He couldn't even cry out as a massive wave of flame enveloped him, passing outward from the two combatants. The Draconians' cries were silenced as fire overtook them. Asmund's front lines were incinerated. The sapphire on his Crown Jewels burst. The wave of flame continued passing westward as blue mana filled the air. Asmund could neither see nor hear, but understood that most of his forces had barely survived the wrath of a near-god. Varsephyss's fury was evident. She kicked Asmund in the face as she took off, retreating away from the rising sun. The red wyrm had incinerated her own army, in hopes of ruining both Asmund and his forces. Comeon rushed to his Lord Baron's side as Asmund passed out.