The battle to defend the peaks.

A scree of pebbles sprayed outwards as Aisling bounded down the sheer mountainside. “Fighting after lunch always gives me heart-burn,” she grumbled, casting her eyes at the exhausted Vedalken as she swept back past him. “A slap on the wrist, just a taste of what that Sphinx will get if she pokes her nose into the mountain passes. She can stay on the wet lowlands! The mountains are no place for such as her. Keys and Dynamos: Devices, toys, gadgets! Useless thrash, polluting the ground, spewing smoke and restricting the magic of free folk, though, that's hardly a bad thing when it come to the “dragon”.


"What sort of dragon doesn’t spit fire? How can a beast with no affinity to the high places, the crags and peaks, no molten flame in her blood, call herself a "dragon"? Pwah! She’s a soft thing of the woods and plains and water! Water!? Unnatural! A cow with wings, no "dragon"!


“Ah, Koth, my friend, there you are. The summits bless you for answering my call! My thanks for bringing these mighty gauntlets. Do you see what I must contend with? Endless plains, seas, bogs and trees with only the strength of the mountains as my comfort. Can you see?! That mythical throw-back has started a Forge in the foothills and that flying Cow thinks a pair of boots can protect her!! An abomination! There will be vicious repercussions, I will have them fleeing in fear from the very shadows cast by my flames.

“You must speak with Tezzeret for he has signed a pact with worse than Bolas if he thinks to serve that junkyard scavenger Sphinx. If we’re lucky, the “dragon” will see his duplicity and chase him off. Look Koth, she’s even brought a friend, a metal Hellkite, another unnatural creation. Koth? Answer me, Koth!"

Ashling cast round frantically for her ally, panicked by his loss but strangely bouyed by the mountain rock under her feet, thrumming in harmony with her heartbeat, pumping fiery blood though her veins. Understanding came even as she noticed Koth's Hammer sigil etched into the rock-face where she had last seen him standing. She smiled; what odds that he didn't stand beside her in the fight if the mountains themselves could rise up to defend themselves? She turned to face her adversaries crouched below her and raised her voice.

“YOU DARE COME TO MY MOUNTAINS?! YOU DARE?! You will feel the fiery claws of the Molten Pinnacle! You will feel my elemental fury! I promised repercussions and you shall have them! I AM YOUR FLAMING DOOM!!”

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Treva settled, exhausted, upon the scorched plain and licked at her burns. “It will heal”, she thought peacefully, “It always does.”


She lifted a booted claw and turned it to better catch the sun shining on the lightning flashes etched down the side.


“She can certainly deal with Sphinxes in rather explosive style but she has no taste in fashion, that girl!”