White winds rocked the windows.
It was so cold they slept before the fire, taking turns spinning logs throughout the night. At dawn he retrieved more wood, stomping through knee deep snow, which had no sign's of ending its fall.
"Hardok's armor," he explained as Al turned the fresh logs, "is Ironite. His body's covered well enough, and even his exposed joints are among the hardest scales on him."
"What kept you and the Elfstones from bringing him down?" She asked, laying back against his chest. "You, with your flail, and Michael? The Sword of Light itself?"
"Fucker never told me he had a name," he muttered.
She rubbed his beard. "He had an entire guild, plus the Bane of Razeleal, and still couldn't bring him down."
"He fled after Alrieon was knocked from his back."
"Interesting," Al said, winds rattling the roof. "Prideful animals, just like the legends say. I wonder what drove him here."
"Maybe a mountain, any mountain, away from those pompous cunts."
"Doesn't explain why he won't torch the village."
He sighed, "A three headed dragon, the monster that was here when I first passed through, only attacked anyone making for the woods to go around the mountains. 'Course there's nests in those parts."
"Does Eric know?
"I'd wager, lest we'd have seen someone cooking long before now."
"Did you do any kind of damage to him at all? Anything we could expose?"
He shook his head, and wondered why none of the stones bothered to hunt Hardok down.
Eric, whoever the stubborn bastard was, had more wits.
"He'll know more," he said, stretching his back, standing up, "and we'll bring down the mountain if need be."
Al frowned. "The village?"
He shrugged. "They're all soulless wretches."
While holding in laughter, she clouted him in the ear, and they shared a bit of wine before readying their gear.
A knock at the door was followed by the old man's voice, fighting the wind.
"Eric has awakened," Paul stuttered, "for the first time in months! He's in the halls, though I'd hurry if I were you. He's hell bent on making the climb again."
Cloaks on, wolf fur stitched into the edges after their victory from few nights ago, they joined Paul to the halls.
Yet Eric was gone, after just a few dozen pints of ale within an hour's time.
"My gods!" Paul said, lighting a pipe. "Who could drink so much?"
Al raised an eyebrow, glaring at the old man puffing weed, but said nothing.
They took a few loaves of bread and some dry pork before heading for the mountain. Though he would've loved to reinforce the metal on his armor and weapons, maybe get a shield, it would've made little difference. Only the forages beyond the mountains had access to anything resistant to dragonfire, and he figured even that wouldn't be effective against Hardok.
Rocks trembled down the mountain, pebbles pining his helm.
Flames shined within the blizzards thick bands, Hardok welcoming the morning.
Still within sight of the village they stopped, whistles coming from below.
Leon marched towards them, a massive spear slung across the back and two large swords on either side a fine studded waistbelt.
"May I, my lord and lady?" Leon asked.
"Could take a few tries," he said, looking up for a quick glimpse. "Sure you willing to descend into madness?"
"Of course!" Leon said, a wide grin.
He rolled his eyes, Al ruffling his arm, and the trio ascended a slippery path.
Footprints laid ahead of them for almost an hour, then piling snow covered the rest. As if Eric could've gone anywhere else, though likely far, according to Eric.
"Was the best student I've ever head," Leon said, nudging him as they rested. "Then again I've only had four students."
While he counted on his fingers, Al asked, "Who was the other?"
"Some poor bastard who couldn't remember his name," Leon said, and his fingers tightened. "Dreadful looking fellow, but he was almost on par with me with a blade. Not one for conversation though. He must've cleared the mountains before Hardok arrived."
Relieved the earsling wasn't speaking on him, he was about to ask more about the lost bastard, but Hardok's roars shook them to their feet.
At least a mile or so up, they were still closer to Hardok than ever before. The dragon's breath was so hot, every ignited spew on the way up felt to be on their necks. Rocks began to fall with rising steam, one scorching his neck, slipping between his helm and collar.
They'd be incinerated.
There was no victory to be found, he convinced himself. They kept getting higher, it was apparent killing werewolves had little to offer more than a heavier cloak.
"We'll find a way," Al said, tugging arm, the trio resting again as lightning cracked. "It's all we need, right?"
He nodded, though she could read right through him.
If only dragons didn't have wings, then there'd be little more than a way to drag Hardok off a cliff. He pondered for a moment, then Leon leaped up, sword drawn.
A man limped down the snow piled path.
Hardok hissed, cursing insults in the old tongue. Leon wiped away sweat, brow leaking as the dragon promised there were other ways to torment a soulless.
"Can he kill us?" Al asked, nocking an arrow. "Send us back to the swamp?"
"No," Eris answered, appearing within arm's reach, "no he can't."
A full suit of heavy black armor, no helm with long black hair and a stubby beard, the lad was a head taller than the trio. However his eyes were blank, and he'd look to have never known sleep or more than a thought besides battle.
Much larger than their encounter within the Burning Lands, he was speechless as Eris went on about Hardok's curse.
"However, he'll make certain we never leave this mountain. Cruel fucker, and there's not a way to skewer him."
"True right mate," Leon said, putting a gentle hand on Eris's shoulder, "but I believe with the four of us we…"
Eris stalked up to him.
They stared at one another for a silent minute.
"Eris," he said, holding a hand out, "you've my gratitude."
"For what? Dying? So you and the other stones could seize the glory of killing Lord Alrieon?"
He didn't answer, though Eris shook his hand.
"I suppose you can half thank me. So long as Hardok lives, part of the White Rider will as well."
"Peter said you were in the dungeon," he said, looking at Al.
"Peter," Eris muttered, eyes flinching for the first time, "would tell you fire shoots from his arse. He's an arse, who can wallow in self-pity for an eternity for all I care."
Hardok's voice was deep like thunder.
'Eris…Eris…,' the dragon bellowed, then rambled in old elvish.
Hands on his head, Eris hunched over.
Al and Leon grasped the poor lad, who whispered and stuttered with wide eyes.
"There has to be a way! There has to be a way!" Eris panted, stepping towards the cliffs. "There has to be a way!"
"Eric!" Leon shouted.
"Eris!" He shouted, sheathing his sword. "Are you not an Elfstone, the best guild of warriors in all the kingdoms?"
Eris shook his head. "No. Not Eris. Eric! My name is Eric! I'm not that scared little boy from the hills, I can fight!"
"Alright," Al said, reaching out to him, "Eric. We'll find a way to kill him. Will you let us help you?"
Hand over his head, the other on a massive battle-axe on his back, Eris muttered incoherent nonsense.
Al whispered something, laying a hand on the lad. Must've been some form of sorcery, as the boy's madness eased, in spite of Hardok's non-stop hissing.
As they made their way a few hundred paces down, the dragon went on.
'Eris…Eris…Eris…Erissssss!'
"Fucking bastard!" Eris shouted, ripping away from Al.
Too large for either he or Leon to grasp, Eris stormed away, breaking out in full stride. They hurried behind, though the lad was in a berserk state. Battle fury, yet something more feral, was taking over.
It was the madness he'd often heard of, and Eris, for all the strength to escape the swamp alone, couldn't bear the weight of the mountain.
He didn't blame the lad, and as snow bands withered, Hardok's eyes beamed with bright red light.
'You…Lord slayer, and Bane of the Death Angels! I'll send you all to hell!'
Gusts soared inward, towards Hardok's mouth.
Al loosed arrows, Leon scaled rocks, spear in hand.
Eric, alone, was at Hardok's front talons.
Though the dragon slammed down, boulders rolling over Leon and the lad. Fire erupted next. Like the bombs of his nightmares, flames engulfed him in an explosion. Darkness came so quick, death's hand didn't bring him his memories.
All blackness, Hardok's whispers taunting him until light shined.