Vignettes from the Battle for Tymbren: Parallels

Once all that remained of Rhoktantoren's bamboo forest was a pile of smoldering embers, the air became thick with tension. Each side waited, anxious about who would make the first move. Though all seasoned veterans of their own conflicts, the gathered warriors fidgeted as they watched the enemy do the same through the gaps in the smoke.
"Oh for fuck's sake," declared a gruff voice from the ramparts. A large man, wearing little more than the bottom half of a coarse wolfhide gi, jumps down from the wall. When he lands, the earthworks under his feet crumble from the force of the impact.
The man stalked forward, killing intent spilling from every pore on his body as a faint emerald green haze surrounded him. With every step, he picked up the pace until, roaring at the top of his lungs, he yelled "CHARGE!"
In any other scenario, it would have been a stupid idea to abandon the relative safety of the city walls to rush headlong into the enemy, but these circumstances were exceptional. All but the least insightful of the gathered warriors knew that this wasn't to be a siege. Rather, it was to be a pitched battle that just so happened to have a city in the background they could retreat to for recuperation.
Already, the airships were almost upon Tymbren, delayed only by the continuous trickle of dragons haranguing the fleet. For now, the dragons held the line, but those with excellent low-light vision could tell that the two-dozen or so airships the dragons were fighting were just the first wave. A second wave was rising from the crater that had once been Kassar.
The moment's hesitation of the warriors was broken by the sight of others charging after the madman. A woodland elf wearing a shimmering cloak of bright blue scales that unfolded into a pair of draconic wings, wielding a sword that crackled with lightning down its length, fed by the gleaming crystal embedded in its pommel, soared over the battlements.
A saltborn eambri who disappeared from the top of the wall and reappeared on the ground in a puff of gold-flecked smoke and summoned a hound of shadow to ride into battle. An a'drekh, who leapt off the wall only to transform halfway down into a dragon with brilliant white scales, took after them, leaving a trail of glimmering frost in his wake.
A half-orc hurled a greatsword toward the dragon, only to disappear and reappear in a cloud of shadows at the location of the weapon, landed squarely on the middle of the dragon's back having retrieved his weapon. Finally, an alossi centhiri jumped off the wall, conjuring a steed made of pale gray light before charging into battle with a blur of gold and silver threads following close beside him.