The beating of the great wings created turbulence in the air. The tall mountains resembled small dunes far below. Beyond the mountains, a plain came into view and in the distance a great river appeared as a rivulet. There was a speck upon the plain. As the winged creature descended, the speck changed to a large keep strategically situated upon a minor plateau rising above the plain. The walls were filled with alarmed defenders. Panic ensued with the approach of the hulking beast. The air was filled with arrows fired from the wall. A few struck the approaching creature but were no more than a nuisance. The great wings stopped beating and were extended in a fixed position. A great whistling sound filled the air. The gargantuan began to coast downward and prepared for a landing. The defenders rushed to self-protective positions. Taekora landed anyway. The arrows continued. Frustrated, Taekora inhaled deeply and exhaled, not Dragonfire, just Dragon breath, but it was enough to knock most of the defenders to the seat of their pants. Taekora then roared.
Knarra rushed into the enceinte, the quadrangle of the Fane of the Setting Sun. The massive, angry, ancient, prismatic Dragon stood on its stocky hind legs and beat its wings. The force kept the defenders on the ground.
Knarra stood before the beast. The tresses of the Priestess flew madly in the great wind but Knarra had no difficulty standing.
“You are messing up my hair, Taekora!” Knarra said emphatically.
“I’ve not received a very warm reception my old friend,” the massive Dragon answered, stopping her wings.
The confused men and Dwarves slowly stood.
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