Conquest of the Horde - A song of Fire [Dragonsworn]

Chapter One: What Now?

Cutting winds from the howling west drove across the bone-riddled fields, spitting out the distinct whistle that had failed to escape his ear. With every passing moment, the gust grew greater, threatening any object in it’s wake. Yet standing before it was the aged Crusader, aged not by years or by experience, but by worry. His hooded head bowed to the harsh conditions while his thick steel boots flattened the snow beneath him. It had only been a few hours, three at most, but already the Crusader had been wrecked with worry for what felt like an eternity. But still he plugged on, he had to in order to keep his promise. The promise to be there for her, to be at the ready in a moment’s notice. And it was for that in which he continued through the storm. He pressed and pressed, the thick sheets of snow making a bed over his wool cloak. The blinding whites that drew across his eyes, making it nearly impossible to see more than five feet ahead of himself. The numbing cold that writhed deep, freezing the hearty Argent down to his marrow.

But he did not stop.

There was no respite for the Crusader, there never really was. He would have a week or two at the most to calm his thoughts before being whisked away into another adventure of kidnapping or something that proves detrimental. Just as his mind had been in the midst of it’s hasty and worried thoughts, a massive screech overhead threw off his slow and steady pace. He looked up, ice now pelting his open visage to only see the silhouette of two drakes, one chasing after another. He had heard stories and tales of the drake’s great battles, but one stood out most in his mind. The tale of his wife’s death at the hands of the blue flight, and her Resurrection at the hands of the red. The mere thought gave him enough reason to remove himself from the scene. He fled forward, his breath and steps following a haste pattern as he trudged on through the battle field. The sound of rippling flames broke through the storm, lighting his background ablaze. Yet he didn’t turn about, his pace only hastened until he broke into a full run, or at least as much as he could run in all his gear. As swiftly as he had begun to run, he also began to fall. His foot caught on a bone protruding from the snowy fields, causing him to tumble forward, but instead meeting solid ground, the Crusader was only met by a steep, icy slope.

He was only able to pray that this was not the end.

He rolled his way down, what flesh was bare was met by the piercing cold ice, which gladly took a bite from his person. Finally the slope would smooth out, leaving the man spread out on the snow with more falling atop. Though the storm subsided, if only slightly. The snowfall was gentler, floating down upon him while the wind seemed to have stopped all together. For a moment he had been tempted to close his tired eyes, to let the snow wrap around him like a blanket. Yet once again, his peace of mind was broken by a screech, much weaker this time. It did not ring through the skies as the ones past, and this was not nearly as boisterous. He swiftly rose to search for it’s source, the only thing truly standing out to his vision was a small hole in the snow, not even more than three feet deep. He stumbled over to the smoking crater, clutching onto his frost-bitten self as he peered into it, finding a peculiar sight. A small red dragon whelpling had fallen from the sky above and found it’s home with broken bones in the small hole. For all it was worth, Krilari held a hand out to the weathered whelpling. A small stream of light flowed from his fingertips, draining into it to repair all he could at the given moment. The healing process ended with a large crash far off in the distance and a simultaneous whimper from the unconscious baby. He took up the young dragon, cradling it in his arms as he trudged on. What laid out before him was not a battlefield but a clear path, leading down to a cliff side. Given this was his only option, Krilari gladly accepted it and hastily moved on, reaching the cliff in only a minute or so of running.

What he saw below was stunning.

Strung out before him stood a magnificent shrine to the Green Dragon Flight. He had only a moment to view the stunning sight before falling down the path. The warm air, tick with sweet smelling nectar overcame the duo as the tree’s canopy unfurrowed to reveal an entire jungle in the midst of a blizzard. He found his place beside a tree, setting the whelpling in front of him. With a single gesture, Krilari rids himself of his cloak and the snow compounded atop of it. His flickering green eyes fall upon the whelpling once more, who had yet to stir from it’s bout of unconsciousness.

With the frost shaken from his back and his color returning once more, Krilari held a stronger hand out to the whelpling. Light began to flow once more, stronger, more concentrated. Slowly bones would fall back into place, blood would clot and mend. Slowly but surely, the whelpling was returning to full health.

Krilari rested his back to the tree after wrapping the sleeping whelpling in his cloak.

“What now..?”

Krilari sat in the presence of Nature by it’s core definition. For all he could see around, the once cold ground was overrun with a thick bed of grass and flowers. The towering trees above provided a heavy canopy of leaves which blocked any sight into the chilling wastelands that lie before the boundaries of the Dragonshire. All about him, the animals which the sanctuary held all seem to flutter about freely. The emerald owls swooped and weaved within the canopy, playing with one another while a family of rabbits found their home in the grassy ground. Finally his sights set before him, looking to the wounded whelpling which he had managed to shelter.

It had been a long night for Krilari, or at least what he thought was night. There was no true way of telling in the Frozen North, for the most part it was always dark. He stayed up for hours on end, gazing about as he awaited the whelpling’s revival. For a moment, the thought crossed his mind; Perhaps it’s dead? A sudden shudder drove down his spine, only encouraging the uneasy feelings. If it dies... what will the mother think? That I killed it? But no, they would be more understanding than that... right? After two of his uncovered fingers came down and pressed slightly to it’s neck, he could feel it’s blood pulsing. Life was slowly returning to the limp shell. slowly the Crusader drew his hand back, setting it in his lap with a tired sigh. Finally his eyes fluttered shut, the tiring days taking victory over him.

What he saw next... he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Before him he could see a dragon matron peering down at him with a judgmental gaze. About her fluttered an abundance of whelplings and drakes which she commanded, each set of glowing amber eyes set on the prone Crusader. After what seemed an eternity of silence a voice broke out from one of the drakes, a female drake. “I’ll see to him... Matron...”

Krilari snapped awake with a hasty breath, his hand coming up to his head as he muttered. “What the hell was that..?” He peered to the canopies above which were now eerily silent. “...Maybe the green dragons are playing head games with me..?” He expelled a sigh, setting his glance once more to the whelpling, only to find it missing! The cloak that once covered it laid limp on the ground while Krilari stood up, his breath quick with worry. The Crusader took a few careful steps forward, his gaze settling on no particular object as he searched on. From his right he could hear a small ‘Scree!’ and soon following was a bird hastily flying away from a very hungry whelpling. With a small spit of fire, the lifeless bird collapsed behind a tree. Krilari couldn’t see what exactly happened, but the whelp happily fluttered out into view with it’s long tongue licking blood from it’s maw. Almost on instinct, the whelpling returned to Krilari, staring at him with it’s beady eyes.

“...You’re not mommy.” The whelpling said with his head quirked slightly, the razor-sharp fangs hanging out from it’s maw.

Krilari’s emerald eyes widened with surprise as the whelping spoke. He took a step back, nearly habitual before speaking out.

“Er... No, I-i’m not. I simply found you out there...” He points up the path, which is weeded with roots and snow. “You were nearly dead, so I brought you down here.”

The whelp smiled slightly as it fluttered about Krilari, sharing it’s attention between the elf and the Dragonshrine that surrounded the two. Finally it would speak again in the growled common. “You look like a nice man. Yep. You even have one of those shiny tabards from those people in Icecrown.” The whelp hovered about his chest, eyeing the tabard carefully. “You are a nice man, right? You did save me and all that?”

Krilari looked wide-eyed to the whelp, not entirely sure how to respond to a fledgling dragon. “Well.. uh... yeah. Kinda. I’m not being nice really. I’m just doing what’s expected from anyone.”

The whelp let out a small laugh, once more in a growled fashion. “You’re a silly man too...” The whelp came about and plopped down just in front of him, giving a wide yawn to reveal once more it’s threatening maw. “Mmm... still a little sore... and really tired.” A few rapid blinks would follow. “But before moma comes, I should pay you back, mr. nice man.” The whelp began to scratch at the ground with it’s pathetically small arms. Eventually from the overgrowth would come a brightly shimmering emerald in the shape of a tear drop. “Here ya go. This is a green dragon’s tear. It’d probably make a nice... um... necklace! … Or something...”

Krilari slowly kneels down, taking up the offered gem with a nervous nod. From above, an echoing screech would fill the air, the whelp happily joined in with a higher-pitched yelp. “She’s back! She’s alive!”

The Crusader peered above, his features wrecking with confusion. “...Buh?”

All about the Emerald Dragonshire, The luscious overgrowth shimmered with natural energies which shielded it so from the piercing cold of Dragonblight. With a single ear-shattering shriek, the trees shuddered and he inhabitants were sent fleeing to their grottos and dens. The only two left in plain sight were the Crusader, who gazed skywards with an odd sort of amazement, and the whelp he had rescued only a day earlier. The whelp sat there with a sort of ignorant bliss of the combat roaring above. High in the skies above the Dragonshire two drakes remain locked in combat, one of the red flight and the other of the black flight. The two sworn enemies drove past the shire, out to sea where only one would return victorious. All the while, Krilari listened with up-most interest.
He could hear the beat of their wings, the gnashing of their razor-sharp teeth, the clash of their blood-drenched claws, and most importantly the impact of the two most powerful flames known, the red's breath of life versus the black's shadow flame. As the two drove off, all Krilari could manage to hear was one final howl, the death screech of a fallen drake.

D-did ... Did the red survive?

Krilari finally loosened his gaze from the thick canopy that guarded his view and turned about. Even still through the combat, the whelp had maintained it's complete innocence by playing about with some of the flowers and the insects that inhabited them. With an expelled sigh, Krilari spoke in a somewhat rushed tone. "Stay here, I'm going to check if it's safe out there so that we can get you back to your mother."
Once again, the whelp seemed to show little worry for the situation, barking out in it's growled common. "Big sis will be fine..."

...Big sis?

Krilari gathered his cloak, gauntlets and sword, all of which were discarded previously against a large boulder when he came to tend to the whelp's medical needs. Without a second guess, Krilari ascended the natural path provided, his metal boots knocking bits of snow and dirt prone in the air. He climbed and climbed until his vision pushed past the blinding canopy only to be greeted by a gust of biting snow. Once he managed to set an eye to the sky, he caught the silhouette of a drake, teetering in the sky's above. The frantic flapping of it's wings as it struggled to stay afloat. Slowly the silhouette would grow and grow, it's true color cloaked by the snowstorm that roared about the frozen wastelands. On instinct, Krilari's hand twitched towards the hilt of his aged Truesilver blade.

What's the use..? If it's truly the black, then I'll be torched before I could even reach it ... That means...

In a rare flash of common sense, the crusader fled the scene that had yet to unfold, taking refuge behind the cliff wall of the Dragonshrine. There he placed himself, waiting in silent vigil as the silhouette grew larger and larger. Finally the beast would land with an earth-shaking crash, a storm of snow and dirt following suit. Once all had subsided, Krilari slowly crept out from his hiding spot, the large metal boots betraying any sort of subtlety he had intended by kicking over upturned rocks and crunching freshly-turned snow. The drake laid there in her bed of snow, blood oozing from the multitude of wounds from the recent combat, the webbing of her wings were slashed and clawed while her own claws were drenched in the crimson liquid. It was only the heaving of her soft underbelly that separated the drake from the dead. The cloaked Crusader reluctantly carried on, inching closer and closer to the red behemoth while the freezing wind whipped at his cloak.

What the hell is going on..?!

He stood before the drake, stunned in momentary awe before his gaze set to the sky, fearful of any avenging black kin. All he would find was simply a sky plagued by storms and snowfall. His observations would soon be interrupted by the high-pitched squeal of what sounded like a demonic child. He looked over his frozen shoulder only to see the whelp barreling towards him, spewing a series of growls and barks that amounted to complete gibberish to the Crusader. Within the moments, the tiny whelping sat beside his older sister, spewing still until a single golden iris unfurled from the drake's eyelids. The behemoth spoke much slower than her younger brethren, but the message came across clear to the whelp almost instantaneously.

I must be loosing my mind or something... I'm probably still down that hill, unconscious as I await my frozen death... Right?

The pint-sized pit crew worked and weaver about the drake, sealing her wounds with the same spurts of flame it displayed earlier. Slowly the cuts would fade away, the blood freezing over as webbing was mended together. It was visibly apparent that in the process, the drake was ever so slowly regaining her strength. Her golden gaze slowly grew wider as she picked her head up from the frozen bed and with a single shudder, the drake threw off the chunks of snow and ice that clung to her scales.

Holy Light...

As the whelp bounced about still the drake set her gaze on the mortal before her, the shocked and awed Crusader. Whiter to prove her victory or simply toy with the poor man one may never know, but the drake rose to all fours and let out a bellowing roar that drowned out the skies. Krilari matched the action by fleeing for all dear life, pausing ten long strides into his jog to realize that there was given no chase by the drake, whom simply sat there with her wings folded on her sides. With another glance over his shoulder, he could view the two discussing some idle topic in their ancient tongue. With a flick of it's snout, the whelp motioned to the crusader in the midst of their chat. Slowly the drake would set her view back upon the man, whom was cowering from either the cold or fear. It was hard to tell which at this point.

"Come, child of blood. I mean you no harm." the drake spoke out in a surprisingly fluid tone. Her voice was harmonic and gentle, something unfitting to such a massive beast that sat before him.

Should I....
...Do I really have a say in the matter?

Though his joints still aching with fear, Krilari slowly approached the drake, stopping a good few feet before it in order to get a view of it's draconian visage.

"... You are the man which saved little Koragos then..?"

Wait... Who?

The whelp gave a few energetic nods, confirming his existence by name as the drake spoke out. Krilari watched the whelp before setting his emerald gaze on the winged behemoth.

"I-I guess so?" He spoke with a voice wrecked still by fear and frost.

The drake gave a toothily grin, somewhat amused by the mortal’s fear-stricken self. She did not spare a comforting word but instead a comforting gesture. Slowly, she would begin to shift, her crimson scales giving away to pink flesh, the blood-drenched claws shrinking into slender digits. Within a short few seconds, the drake have given way to an armor-clad Sin'dorei. As per usual, Krilari was on the sidelines, absolutely dumbfounded at what he's played witness to.

With a quick 'Ah-hem' to clear her throat, the drake spoke once more. "Now then... Lets try this again, I'm Terahstraza." shortly after, she spared a curt bow before the Crusader. Her armor was something a smith would envy; it matched perfectly in every aspect, providing astounding protection save for her unadorned visage and the fingerless gauntlets.

Krilari returned the bow as best as he could before stuttering out in a voice wrought with the chill. "Crusader Krilari Dawnsend."

The drake carefully watched the man and every movement he made, every twitch, every blink, every shuddered breath. After perking a brow in thought, Terahstraza spoke once more. “...What brought you so far out into Dragonblight, Krilari? Have the Argents sent you off on some task?”

Krilari shook his head a number of times, bowing his head in the process before tipping it back up to view her. “No... I’m simply waiting... should my wife need help.”

Terahstraza picked her head up to look about, the whelp still bounding about her in circles happily playing with the falling flakes of snow. “Your wife.. Where is she?”

Krilari shrugs. “...I’d like to know that too. The most I can hope is that the light guides me to her... though it gets harder and harder with every storm that blows through here.”

She nodded slowly, her open finger coming up to tap her chin ever so carefully in thought. “...I see.... I must commend you for your vigilance, Krilari...” Slowly, the drake would begin shift back into her natural form, her dark red skin giving away to vibrant scales as her filed nails begin to reach outwards. The transformation took a few moments, given that the woman was definitely one of large proportions, even for a drake. “... I wish you best of luck in your endeavors though... I should be returning to my Matron now.” Without much hesitation the drake soon took to the skies above, tailed by the whelpling who clumsily fluttered about in her wake.

“Bye-bye Krilari!.”

My Head...
Hurts...
So much.

Spoilered for language.

Also, no formatting sadly.

I'll fix it when I can.

Spoiler:

"Just head south of here, you'll end up at Wyrmrest Temple. Someone can better see your wounds there."

Because you're no use anymore.

"Er.... Roight. Thanks there lad... I guess Morey an' myself owe ya ours arses."

"Think nothing of it, it's the least I could do."

With a bow, the dynamic duo of the dwarves shambled down their path, one of them limping horribly as supported by the other, who appeared in decent condition otherwise. Overall it had all been an odd series of events that the aged elf had run into. First the dealings with the whelp and his apparent sister, now running into two dwarves on the pure sense of curiosity...

A series of fortunate events.
I guess.

He watched carefully as the duo eventually faded from his view, seeing them off to be sure they could make it before turning to face his own journey set before him. The recent ventures have left the Crusader horribly confused, out in the midst of the large stone path while the frozen sun beat on his worn white cloak. With a hesitant step, Krilari set on his way up the road once more. In the days of travel, Krilari's gear had worn for the worst. His vibrant white cloak had faded into a cream color after being worn down by stagnant snow and the unforgiving winds. Fallen a similar fate, his one proud Argent Crusade tabard was now torn by both winds and war. His black and gold armor had cracks and dents in places where it proved to protect it's creator well, as well as broken straps and frost-bitten plate that began to wear at it's use. There was only one fact that had remained with him rough these turbulent times, and that was the Truesilver Champion that laid sheathed on his back. Through the years, ever since the second war raged through the lands of Quel'Thalas, Krilari kept the blade as his weapon of choice. It traveled with him from the day it was made until current times and have served him well. It was the never-faltering beacon. The perfect symbol of The Light. The sole few seconds that Krilari spent examining himself felt like an eternity. It was only after that could he continue on.

Steel boots met the stone path as the man traveled on the endless path. Once again he wandered without purpose aside from fixing his wife, and it was once again that he was pulled astray by itching curiosity. He continued on, fully believing that he was very much alone.

Very cliche

And very wrong.

From atop the pillars, Terahstraza watched Krilari with perked interest. For a short time, there was a disbelief in the Crusader's abilities. There was a question about his true abilities, but everything was laid to rest with this final test. With a bat of an eyelash, the drake went from her armor-clad, blood elven self to a massive, winged behemoth. She took to the skies, wings beating furiously to keep her afloat as she glided above the Crusader.

Krilari glared to the skies above, eyeing the beast. "...What."

Where in the Light's name did that come from?

With a shriek, the beast turned about, descending to meet the Crusader where he stood.

Why do I get the feeling about to find out?

A furious bat of the wing and the clashing of claws on stone graced the winds as the drake landed after her miraculous show.

Why do I get the feeling that this does not bode well?
Oh yeah, because it's a dragon.

The drake bowed her head before Krilari, who met her with nothing more than a bout of confusion.

Am I going to die now?

"Greetings, Dawnsend." Rang the same calming tone as the many days earlier, which was also very unfitting to the red drake that sat herself before him.

Krilari, still wrecked by confusion and slightly by fear, bowed as best as he could before the drake. "H-hello... Er... Terahstraza. Is something... Wrong?" He cringed in his mind, fearful of the answer to come.

"Not in the least, Sir Dawnsend. On the contrary, I've come bearing news, not good,nor bad. It does revolve around you though, Sir Dawnsend." The drake lowered it's head to meet with him.

"I've been watching you for quite a time now, Sir Dawnsend, and you've proven to be quite the man. Not on come across usually, you've an odd sense as a being that are found rarely even amongst your brothers-in-arms." She pokes a claw towards his tabard. "And bearing that information, I've come bearing a request for you. Krilari Dawnsend, I come to request you travel with me to visit my matron."

Krilari stood there for a moment, frozen completely as his mind flared wildly.

Visit her matron?
But ...She hates dragons...
Why should that matter? This is your chance to make a difference.
To go beyond yourself.
To possibly help her.
Put your foot down already, Krilari!
-You- know about the red dragons.
-You- know their intent.
Go.

With a shake of his head, the Crusader awoke, his head rising to meet her gaze. He stared for a moment more, observing her features before slowly nodding. "I'll go."

The drake's toothly maw twitched into a smile. "Very well..."

Terahstraza laid down completely on the stone path, her massive wings lowering to the ground. "Climb upon my back then, we've not a moment to waste."

An eternal moment seem to have drifted between the two. Slowly, he would clamor forward, carefully bringing himself atop the drake's back. He rested his two plate-clad legs on the junction between the drake's neck and the rest of her body. Immediately, the drake began to flap it's massive wings and take to the sky, equally she was met with a fearful yell of the Crusader before he lurched forward and wrapped his arms about her tree stump of a neck.

Don'tletgodon'tletgodon'tletgo!

It did not take long before the drake took to the skies once more, soaring high above the stone path and it's broken pillars, far beyond the frozen wastelands that the Crusader traveled. All the mighty sights that the Crusader might've taken in.... If his eyes weren't wrenched shut in fear and worry. As the duo made their way well past the might Wyrmrest Temple, Krilari did spare a glance above, viewing the destination to come. All he could see where the snow-blessed mountains ahead before his eyes shut once more.

"...If you know what's good for you, Dawnsend, you best not get air-sick easily."

The red behemoth plowed through the droves of snow that descended from the frozen skies, all the while the weathered Crusader sat attached to her neck. In the midst of their travels, he had finally managed to ease into riding a top the drake. He perked his head up to observe the landscape that encompassed the duo. He viewed the massive snowy mountains that laid ahead, the frozen plains that slip away beneath them, the vast sky dotted with dark clouds. With an exhaled breath, Krilari eased into his scaly seat, leaning up full.

It had been a busy day for the Crusader, given that only a few hours earlier he had been presented with the offer of several lifetimes, the offer to pay visit to a matron dragon. And even before that, he had just dealt with two injured dwarves with questionable sobriety. In truth, it was a surprising sight to see that he had not passed out while embarking on the long flight. One again his mind flared with short, pinging questions.

What's to come of me?
Am I going to just die..?
Fade away as a victim of some clever ruse.
...no, it can't be.
The Reds, all I've learned about.
Of the stories, of Alexstraza.
The Dragon Queen who had given her flame in order to aid Crusader Bridenbrad.
That's how the rumors go at least.

As the man went continued on with his marvelous inner-monologue, the dynamic duo finally began to decent from the skies, ever so carefully inching their way closer to the untouched snow that laid waiting below. By now, they had flown into a secluded mountain range somewhere within the frozen wastelands of Dragonblight. As the ground drew ever closer the drake began taking evasive measures, swerving to avoid tall trees and rocky outcrops that swarmed the bases of the great mountains. While this all took place Krilari returned to clinging to the drake's neck for all dear life.

Finally Terahstraza's claws graced the untouched snow, sliding to a halt before a massive cavern that laid burrowed into the mountain. As the sliding stopped Krilari simply slide off of the drake falling to the ground with a crunch of snow, a clack of armor, and an unhealthy groan of a tired man.

"....Dawnsend? Are you alright?" Sounded the concerned voice of Terahstraza, who's neck craned in order to set her amber eyes upon him.

"Just fine... A-a bit shaken... Just a bit." He croaked out before leaning up from his snowy bed. A grasping hand came up in order to find the drake to help him up, yet all that could've been found was the frozen air that surrounded him. From above, the crimson-clad Sin'dorei gazed down with her arms folded beneath her chest.

"Now is definitely not the time for joking around, Dawnsend. Come now, we've yet to meet with the matron." With an un-protected digit, she pointed towards the gaping cavern that was set before them.

"Alright, alright..." He did not seem to have much the urge to disagree with a drake as to if he was joking or not. With a more subtle groan he rose to his plated feet and set after Terahstraza, who had already set a brisk walking pace into the cavern.

What have I gotten myself into?

The Crusader straightened his back and trudged on. The snow soon gave way to stone as he managed as close to the drake as he could. The light provided by the night's moon soon faded, the only guidance in his path being the unnatural glare from his eyes that illuminated his vision just enough to stagger behind Terahstraza. It had only taken a few moments, but beyond the Crusader could see the golden aura of a fire painted on the cave walls ahead. Just before the duo reached the main cavern, the drake turned about and spoke in a hushed tone.

"Remain here if you know what's good for you, Dawnsend." hissed her voice in a low tone.

Before Krilari could even return with a silent nod, Terahstraza marched off and into the golden light, from there on out the Crusader wallowed in the darkness. A Quel'dorei's birthright had always been a slightly improved sense of hearing, and that trait had bled over into the Sin'dorei bloodline. Through this, Krilari managed to hear the conversation. Even then it did him no good, the two were speaking out in an ancient, slithering tongue that held no resemblance to Krilari.

...What they hell are they saying?
This must be draconic.

The tired man settled to the floor, exhaling a sigh at the first chance to rest in the past day or two. He wasn't quite sure how long it had been, honestly. The last chance he had been able to sleep was in the grove of the emerald dragonshire. Either way, he appreciated the respite for as short as it lasted. He had lost track of time and place, his eyes slowly drifting about as his head bobbed in the fight to remain conscious. In the final moments of his respite, Terajstraza came up and whisked him to his feet by clasping a hand to his wrist and tearing him from the dream that was soon to envelop him.

"Mother will see you now..."

Krilari nodded wordlessly, marching on into the depth of the mountain. Licks of flame graced his path, providing the first glimpse of warmth that the man had felt in what seemed as an eternity. Swiftly the path gave way unto the main cavern in which the Matron resided. To his left and right he could see the multitude of gold and treasures hoarded by the red dragon flight that called this cave home. Dead ahead was the Matron Dragon in all of her glory. She sat atop a throne forged from the spoils of war, the gold trinkets layering atop her scales, melding with them. Her head was already set right on the weary man, and had been ever since he entered the room. By his side remained the Sin'dorei guise of a drake, appearing as strict as ever. Once the prolonged march met it's end, the duo found themselves positioned just in front of the brood mother. Terahstraza was the first to move, falling to a knee swiftly as she slithered out, in common this time.

"Mother, I present to you, Krilari Dawnsend."

Krilari was slow to follow, falling to his knee only after he was introduced. He remained silent, his emerald gaze settling on the draconic visage of the dragon as he awaited a response.

"A selfless Sin'dorei..? What an interesting prospect.... Are you so sure, Terah?" Bellowed the dragon's hearty voice, her tone being that of curiosity more than anything else.

"Yes, mother. I'm sure..." Sounded out the drake in a monotone comment.

The Matron set her gaze full on the Crusader, seeming to peer into his very person, his very mind.

"...How peculiar."