Beginning the End Game.

[Sylus Kurgen]

The hours spent at the forge had been long and laborious. It was only to eat and sleep that he let himself stop from his task. Combining the powers of earth, wind, fire, and water with the enchanted moonsilver and dragonite alloy. On their own, both metals were near indestructible but together, they would be a formidable weapon indeed. The elemental powers fusing the metals with the proper energies so that the alloy would be strengthened a hundred times over.

That was just the beginning of the task. Next came the cutting of the mold. For a weapon of this power, a simple stone basin would never have done at all, nor a die cast. The weapon charged to him required the fires of hell itself to heat and infuse with the molding. Trapping an elder efreet from the City of Brass had been no easy task, but its Outsider blood burned at the needed temperature with the right magicks. Not to mention, having bested the Outsider, it was now bound to him for all time. Bound to protect him and the mundane manifestation of the creature hung on a peg against the wall in the form of brass falchion.

If his course were not the proper one, Sylus may have felt disgusted with himself. However, he could ill afford to bother with such self-deprecation. With the efreeti fires keeping the metal hot, he could now work on the weapon mold. All the while a great number of sorceries swirled in the storm clouds above the Keep, each crack of lighting and each roar of thunder resounding with ancient power.

The mold required to forge a weapon with the power to break magical bonds that had held strong for so many a millenia had to be made from the bones of the dragon which created the chains. The Dragon's Graveyard was a place not meant to be tread by anything other than those of draconic descent. It was a good thing then that Chimara was made with a gargantuan platinum and red. Sylus also caught a break that Tiamat was sleeping during his visit as well. Hours were given to carving out a seven foot groove into the spinal column he'd taken from the skeleton of the ancient platinum whom had bound Chimara with the ultimate act of self sacrifice.

The weapon itself was a spear. Fitting a spear had always been the weapon of choice to kill dragons, and now one would set free their ancient bane. One side of the spear would be for cutting and slicing, its blade sharp enough to cut through a falling strand of silk. The other would hold the barbs that could render chunks flesh on extraction. The spear head itself would make a triangular wound like that of a bayonet; a nasty weapon indeed.

Folding the molten alloy took him the last year alone. It wasn't just pour and pound. Oh no; Sylus created the spear one millimeter at a time. One fold, pound it flat, reheat and pour another fold. The Elder Kurgen repeated this process over four thousand times. Not only would this set his memories free, but the forging of such a weapon he could call it his Master's piece.

After a year of constant toil, the spear was nearly complete. ONly two requirements remained. A drop of blood from Chimara, and the blood of an ancient red to cool the metal one final time. There was only one ancient red that he knew of; and that dragon had forged the scimitars he loved so dear.

[Sylus Kurgen]

The ashen wind whipped around him with gale force, but Sylus ignored it completely as he made his path up the side of the volcanic mountain. Efreet’s words still echoed in his mind after their conversation on the porch of the Inn. He didn’t like what the old mage had to say at all.

“Without me you’ll die in the dragon’s lair…you are prepared for such an out come?”

“I’ll take my chances old man. Personally I don’t care about any of this; I just want my memories back. Even if it means destroying a few dragons. They’re all the same anyway, arrogant in their power and heritage. Haven’t met one yet that didn’t think everything that wasn’t a dragon was an inferior being.”

“True, a good number are like that, but you have not met all dragons. Most of the chromatics are like that, the metallic have a much better understanding of the multi-verses. Perhaps in time you will learn this.”

“In any event, we need to play this close to the chest. And I need to leave you here.”

“You’re being a fool boy, listen to age and experience. Taking on the ancient red, you’ll need fire protection. More than I think you realize…”

“I have all the protection I need. It’s luck I fear that is waning.”

Then he heard her voice and the old feeling he couldn’t remember drifted to life.

“I can’t take her right now” without a second thought Sylus had vanished from Alais’s sight to deal with Hephaestus.

“I hope the red kills me; I’m so tired….so so tired.” The Elder Kurgen stood at thte opening to Hephaestus’s lair and gripped the hilts of his twin blade tightly. This was not going to be a fun misadventure at all. Taking a moment to brush ash from his mouth, Sylus entered the cavernous entrance with grim determination as darkness fell around him.

[Sylus Kurgen]

"Come out boy! I can smell you!" the great wyrm's serpentine neck arched this way and that as its blind eyes scanned the charred remnants of what had once been its lair and workshop. Molten metal and gold formed metallic waves against the cavernous walls and across the cracked stone floor.

Holding completely still, Sylus watched Hephaestus working at sniffing out his location. Good, he thought to himself, holding on to his place a good two dozen meters above the dragon. Scimitars sheathed at his waist, he moved slowly around the stalactite being careful not to send any chipping pieces down to alert his opponent of his location.

"Hide all you like, it won't change much in the end," The wyrm's massive head swung upwards now, just a mere stones throw below him. It would be turn early for such a maneuver yet to another swordsman. But no other swordsman was truly like he. Letting go, Sylus fell onto Haphaestus' scaled head, his blades drawn even before landing.

Hephaestus went still as the humanoid weight landed on the top of his head, that partial second of surprise being all Sylus needed to plant a sword in both of the dragon's eyes. Though he could not be blinded again, it still hurt! As the dragon rose with a roar that shook the cavern walls, Sylus held on with all of his strength, pushing the swords deeper into Hephaestus' eye sockets.

"Stings a little don't it?" Not wasting any time, Sylus vaulted onto the red's back and slid along the spine, slapping his twin blades together to activate their main enchantment. A glow erupted along Redemption's edges as the curved blade came down across the dragon's right wing, severing it cleanly.

The dragon reared up again as agony ripped through its shoulders with the loss of the wing. Towering high on its hind legs tossed Sylus across the room and into the adjacent wall with a heavy crash. Blinking through his own pain, Sylus pushed up to his feet, feeling a heavy ache in his ribs. At least one was cracked if not broken.

"Don't have time to check. Re-breaking that's going to hurt like a bitch later, but at least I can make sure it heals right," Even as he shook off the last of the collision, Sylus felt the rib repair itself.

"You'll pay for that, abomination!" with his position given away, Hephaestus whipped its massive bulk around with a deep intake of breath. "Now you die!"

"Oh shit," Instinct was the only thing that had Sylus moving as a gout of fire erupted from the glands in the wyrm's throat. Only he wasn't running away from the fire. He felt the heat first as the flames raced towards him headlong, smoke rising from his clothes. With one massive push from his legs, Sylus was in the air, flying above the line of fire. Sailing right towards Hephaestus. Smoke continued to rise from his clothes, the hilts of Redemption and Retribution getting warm in his grasp. Even his hair began to smoke and ignite.

"No, you die!" with a twist of his upper body, Sylus rolled in the air as he passed over Hephaestus' head, both blades cutting through hardened red scales with the ease of an arrow through silk. The momentum and stopping impact of the red's weight nearly pulled his arm from its socket, but as the dragon bellowed one last roar in defiance. The sound echoed off the cavern walls as though a reminder of what he'd just done. This place would become wild once more without the ancient red to keep the molten climate controlled.

"I grow tired of death," his breath released in a sigh as Sylus removed his blade from Hephaestus' frontal lobe.