Session 46: This is my hour! Report
General Summary
The cold hail continued to pelt the walls of the harbor gate, the sky was dark with fall storm clouds, the din of battle roared along the ramparts. The scales pushed against their foes, the morale of the Aelindon fighters, at least where they were broke, several warriors scrambling down the ladders to flee. Taking a brief respite before more would surge back to the ladders an elven warpriest rushed to the Scales and began to chant her healing magics. Pulse after pulse of positive energy restored the weary heroes. From above the rushing sounds of wings and the gust of air pushed against the Scales of Fate. Their eyes drawn upwards a massive Red Drake landed with a terrifying roar amongst them. The beasts talons crushed the warpriest into the stone of the rampart as its jaws snaked around to bite into her body. A sickening crack as her body was torn in two, the drake swallowing the torso as it roared. Atop the mighty drake rode confidently Lord Aelindon, pointing his Glaive down towards his foes, "You have stood in my way for the last time, this is my hour!" magic coursing from his finger tips as his image split into 3 mirrored copies of himself.
A'lar would spin and duck inside of a guard tower taking cover and calling out his encouraging anthem. Adalon and Ismaril would advance their weapons bouncing off drake scale and deflected by Aelindon. Idalell would poison his blades as Longwei moved in to attack. The Drake would roar as torrent of fire spewed from its jaws engulfing many of the scales. Aelidond would dig his terrible spurs in pushing the creature to its limits, jaws crushing Vaera the Lioness as she charged. Blows would be exchanged as mirrored images of Aelidon would slowly burst. His glaive cutting a terrible arch into Ismaril, a blow that would nearly cut her in two, but Adalons gifts from the goddess of time would shunt this blow out of the flow of time, buying Ismaril a moment. Longweis blows would land heavy upon the Drake drawing its attention while Ayrien would save Vaera returning her the statuet she carried. Indalell and A'lar would move besides Ismaril healing her wounds so when Adalons spell wore off she would survive the Glaives menacing cut.
Aelindon would chant more arcane words his glaive exploding with a Fireball engulfing the Scales again in seering fire. More mirrored images would shatter as A'lar and Ismaril both assailed his mind with visions of phantasmal horror. Shrugging much of the danger off, Indalells poisoned blade would sink home, but have little effect. Longwei would throw a devastating kick but as lord Aelindon would dodge the blow, he would vanish and appear across from him, no longer mounted his back to a guard tower. His glaive would swing in a wid arch delivering a chop into the Monk opening a great wound. As the scales swarmed Aelindon, Ayriens arrows flying, Adalaon and Ismarils swords trading blows, the great Elven Battle lord would hold firm his magic and weapon working in perfect unison. Longwei would Withdraw to drink a few potions and tend to his wounds as Idalell attempted to Mount the drake.
Taking Aelindons form he would convince the creature they were friends and to fly high into the air. Aelindon would shout a threat to his drake but with little effect his voice constrained in the combat, the beast was now lost. Indalell would move the drake out of the fight, its smashing jaws not able to aide its master. As heavy wounds were exchanged, Aelindon without his Drake would succumb to his foes, falling to his knees he would look up at Ismaril with Ayrien just behind her. Sneering a curse that would never be heard Ismaril would plunge her sword thru his chest while an arrow whistled passed and imbedded in his throat from Ayriens bow. The Aureate civil war was over, house Aelindon was now leaderless, its army scattered, his secrets and connections outside Aureate following him to his grave. The scales would take the next week to rest before deciding where next they were needed.