The Dragon Guardians of Greyd’ria
The Alliance
Chapter-IV
The Hunters / The Two Legions / Altair’s Return

A small red dragon lay on the ground listening to the deep echoes of the plains. He listened intently hearing the pase of his enemies speed their pase quickly, they smelled him. They smelled the sulfur coming off his body, and drift into the wind to their muzzles and made their noses cringed. The small dragon lifted his hind legs and forelegs up from the ground staring at the large rocky plains ahead. His eyes were a golden mixed with ginger and crimson, and a black slit so thin, so slender. His ears pointed up, similar to an elf’s, however his plated chest was opposite, it went from down to up. The plate of armor was a dark brown, maybe a little lighter. The dragon had a black frill going down his neck, on each side of the frill had white small spikes going down ending at the beginning of the large muscular neck. The talons were sharp and the nails like curved daggers were black as night. On the shoulder blades were two large horns sticking out.

The red dragon’s frill flowed in the wind flapping like a flag standing in strong winds. The dragon turned around seeing a small boy panting leaning on the dragon’s arm. The boy bore long brown curly hair, his face was young, and he bore high cheekbones. He was pretty thing, with big feet, and ears. His eyes were a tint blue, a few cuts bore on his face, and on his left hand he had four fingers. Merry looked up at the red dragon and patted it’s leg, “Max… can’t you just fly us! I can’t run this anymore,” Max snorted and looked down at Merry with a funny look and turned around hearing gasps for air.

“Their pase has quickened, they caught my scent from my hide,” Max spoke quickly. The red dragon unfolded his long elegant wings and took flight flying down the mountainous hill finding the surviving Draconians of Pandera. “Hurry!” Max roared, as thuds from his wings echoed Merry’s mind. Merry groaned taking out his sac of water and began gulping down the nice cool water, he whipped the remains from his mouth.

Merry turned around and glanced down laughing, “Hurry Emir! Be happy your loosing weight!” Merry ran down the hill trying to catch up with Max as best as his legs would give him.

Emir gasped for breath as he made his way up the hill, he went pale as he saw the more plains, and a small green speck of the Forest of Ga’Hoole. Emir swore walking down, “Merry I’m not fat! I’m…big bone!” Emir roared. Emir began running and moaning as his feet burned badly. “Max! You are half the size of your dad! Can’t you make us ride on your back! Please?” No answer… Emir swore again. “I hate dragons!”

Max jumped over a rock and sprinted up the hill, he reached the top feeling a warm breeze past his brown curly hair. Max ran down the hill catching his breath. Merry fallowed Max as best as he could, even though Max was in his human form thank the havens! The group crossed large hills that seemed like mountains, they crossed stormed that blew the red dragon down, forcing him to run. They gained little sleep hoping to find Edmund, before his fate would be turned to darkness. Emir hated running, yet he managed every so often he would yelp in pain from shin splints.







Illidan bent down staring at an elfish dagger that shimmered in the sunlight, Zestos flew down with Kim`aina on his back who was peacefully sleeping. The brown dragon was staring at the dagger it was Edmund’s. Zestos sniffed it and frowned, he sniffed the ground more and looked at Illidan, “This is Edmund’s dagger… but the ground smells of Draconian.” Zestos stood up looking around; he could smell them miles off, as well as Max and his friends. Illidan pulled his sword out a little from his sheath looking around for any sign of their enemies, “No… I think… the Draconians have Edmund.”

Illidan frowned glancing up at the brown dragon, “And Max, Merry, and Emir are going after them!” Illidan’s eyes widened Zestos nodded and let out a roar and took to the skies flying West. Illidan turned seeing Alzhara panting running to him, “Zes tres Max tu le grta` Draconian dacatha!” Illidan began sprinting out of the rock like valley fallowing Zestos. “Less than a days run!” Alzhara nodded.

Alzhara turned hearing sounds of pain. Muradin was rolling down the hill roaring in pain. The dwarf flew off a rock and landed hard on another. “Come Muradin we are gaining on them!” Alzhara yelled as she ran out of the valley fallowing Illidan. Muradin slowly got up moaning in agony as he began to slowly job fallowing his team.

Muradin roared trying to get his words to the elf’s keen ears, “I’m wasted on cross country! We dwarf’s are natural sprinters! Very dangerous for a short distance it is!”

Illidan stopped next to Zestos as they both glanced looking for Max. No sign of him, Zestos sighed looking down to Illidan, “I’m sorry… Max will be fair Illidan.” Illidan nodded slowly, he turned around hearing running up the hill, it was Alzhara.

Alzhara blinked looking at the plains, “The Draconians head more West… they have Edmund! They are taking him to…Sora’Gothma…”

Zestos and Illidan exchanged glances.





Pure Darkness now crept into the woods of Pandera. Once home to the elves of the North East now home to the Draconians corrupted by Sora’Gothma’s evil and lust. All was left of the forest was the outline of it, the main area was flooded with smoke and Draconians: once elves… now monsters. Draconian after Draconian worked on making armor, and capturing more elves to increase their army of sin and darkness ready for another attack, ready to bring this green world into a world of fire and darkness. A world where the scaled will rule while the pigged skin will serve those. The dragons would rule all bringing their master and lord back to finish his rein on those who opposed him many years ago. Metal bashed on metal, as black swords were made. Screams echoed the forest as once pure turned to evil. Houses of wood were now houses of metal and rock, water was magma and few dragons inhabited the sky.

Tichondrius, Peer of the Realm of the Elves of the City of War’lar, kneeled down staring at the large mirror on the gold wall. In the mirror stood dark mist that swirled around, slivers of like broke from the swirling darkness trying to bring Tichondrius mind to his master’s. Tichondrius lifted himself up walking to the Palantir; he placed a dark claw on the mirror and closed his eyes looking deeper into the world of life.  Tichondrius smiled being connected with his master of darkness…

Hortense.

Tichondrius bore scales of the color of dark yellow. The upper part of his left arm still bore skin. His muzzle was long and scaled, long daggers hanged out of his mouth, teeth. Two large wings attached to his back, they appeared to still be growing. Horns and spikes formed all down his neck, onto his back and to his tail. One leg still bore elf and the left a dragon like leg it was deformed. His eyes burned a fiery red. Blood and droll dropped from his mouth, he opened his mouth growling a forked tongue came out. Elf ears still were on his body, they poked threw his red like hair. “My master of darkness and fire… our world is changing. Soon the life that bears on this world will be converted to your rein. And all that resist The Two Legions of Dragons will burn to darkness! Soon my lord… all will fall… and Two Last Legions will rein this pathetic world…”

Tichondrius felt his mind melt; as his soul seemed to melt with the Palantir… he saw…he saw the land of Darkness, the land of Shadow…

La Hadarac Helgrind …

Black outsized towers rose in the sky, made by black rock and coal, which shined brightly. Spikes stuck out of the building, the gates preventing unwanted visitors were made of metal, black rock, and skulls on men with flesh still clinging on to it. The gate way was shaped like a C the far right have a gate the middle part had a much larger gate, and the far left was the same size as the right. Each one made of skulls, The Raven Skulled Gates of Draco’Soren. Volcanoes yelled spewing it’s red liquid into the land giving rivers that were lava more liquid to pour its lava falls into the immense lakes.

The air reeked of ash and hide, if any man, elf, or dwarf had the strength to look up the sky was home to floating soot raining down to the desert like land. The skies showed no happiness for they have never received any for thousands of years. Only gray depressed havens shone upon this land.

Behind the gates laid citadels large enough to home many dragons. Forts everywhere, while winged beasts flew the sky, for the skies were not safe for any winged beast but dragons. Near The Skulled Gates laid less large citadels for the Draconian, rotten meat scented the area. Near one of the main Draconian Citadels laid a large narrow canyon below halfway full of lava magma, lava fall after lava fall poured more lava into it. Metal bridges large enough to fit a Pure One and Dracoian were made.  

Mixed with one of the largest volcanoes were the citadels, the fortress of the Five of Six, The Citadel of Minas Orthiad. It’s building mixed with the Volcano of Parabola. Black outsized towers rose in the sky, made by black rock and coal, which shined brightly also was mixed with the building. One tower reached the highest in the sky made of white crystal gray clouds that floated by circled it then pass going on their way letting the winds be their master.

Draco’Dooma roared its spwell of lava to the black soil that was mixed with dust of old bones, and ash of once living. Black smoke rose from the spit of evil…inside was a circle like portal, it’s top seemed to made of lava moving around, behind it like clear water was another world of fire, and rock. Yellow lighting flashed across the portal, as two yellow dark eyes opened. Two fire like slits formed in the eyes staring above. Staring at the darkness would kill a man in an instant. A screeching sound echoed the Temple inside of Draco’Dooma as a black-scaled claw slammed up on the portal wishing wanting to be released to destroy the traitors, which helped imprison him in this hell like world. A loud roar echoed the temple as the Lord of Dragons bellowed. He slammed his black claw again trying to weaken the portal it was no use, he needed his grandson’s blood to release him, however he smiled he could feel his grandson grow close to him soon he would release him and he would destroy him and his son Altair and soon all would burn….

Sora`Gothma roared again echoing Greyd’ria…






Tichondrius rushed down black spiral stairs and exited out of his Citadel. Two Draconians dressed in full black armor fallowed their master dressed in white cloak, with bloodstains all around from his transformation from elf to Draconian. He moved to a General Draconian and walked to him staring at the Draconians being trained below, “I want them armed and ready to march in ten months!” Tichondrius snarled.

The general frowned; he had half a wing and a full one. His arms were completely scaled, as for his right arm had a claw, his left had the hand of an elf. His tail was deformed and he reeked of rotten wood and fish, “But my lord the amount of Draconians Hortense wants it’s impossible! We can’t form twenty-five million Draconians in ten months!”

“Build a dam! Feed the fieriness of rock, hunt dragons with clear minds and use their meat to feed us! Do that and we will be ready! Hortense in Helgrind is sending thirty-five million Draconians! That’s only half his army, his true power! Capture any kind of men, elf, or dwarf, and bring them back for their Transformation to Draconians…” Tichondrius walked towards a window and in the distance saw the Forest of Espleriron, “The Forest of Espleriron is at our very door step…” Tichondrius weakly smiled and turned to the General and began yelling at the Draconian, “Capture what elves you can find and destroy the wood!”

The Draconian General smiled giving a deep laugh, “Yes my lord!” The General hoppled away when he turned to Tichondrius confused and lost, “Will any Pure Ones join our battle?”

The White cloaked Draconian turned around smiling, “Yes… Hortense and his army of Pure Dragons will join our war! We will meet near Minas Hildoor and our armies will merge and separate to Ga’Hoole, Minas Hildoor, and the Graybeard Mountains! All the outposts and Kingdoms will fall to our Master and soon… soon Sora’Gothma will be released! And the dragon will rule all of Greyd’ria and this pitiful world,” The general roared with laughter and walked off to get his master’s orders ready….






The wind swept hard across the dragon’s scales, as he lowered himself down into a small valley of rock in the Razorfen Mountains. The dragon contained a vast sized pair of wings; he was red as the color of blood. His eyes were a golden mixed with ginger and crimson, and a black slit so thin, so slender. His ears pointed up, similar to an elf’s, however his plated chest was opposite, it went from down to up. The plate of armor was a dark brown, maybe a little lighter. At the beginning of his long tail, white spikes formed going down to the very tip, similar to a frill. There were two deep emissions, where the dragon kept his blades. On the dragons neck it seemed the scales were a little bigger and harder than the ones that covered the rest of his body. He stood about three hundred maybe four hundred in height, two hundred in length, same as every dragon.

The red dragon stopped on the hill hovering above looking down at a large plain, not as big as the Great Plains near the Lost Kingdom of Peril`doole. Above the plains sitting on a hill surrounded by mountains was the Fortress Gate of Hildoor. The fortress sat in the corner of the plains protecting the mountains the towered over the fortress. The walls stood about three hundred feet tall through of solid rock and metal. A bridge left the ground into the air connected the plains to the metal gate, the bridge was the same design as the bridge of Poldrea Dur`, below was a river where woman and children bathed and washed doing daily chores. The fortress was a large square of about two miles and two of the sides stuck out while the other two were attached to mountain rock. Two large towers of rock stood watching over the small plains watching for ‘unwanted,’ visitors.

The Fortress was a mess, from the recent battle. The red dragon smiled the Men of Hildoor survived. The dragon flew down in the middle of the Fortress as men yelled and ran to grab their arrows and weapons. The dragon’s ears twitched when he heard a strange familiar voice, “Altair? My dear Altair?” The dragon turned and smiled looking down the man’s face was old and was an elf, his ears past his long silk like hair. His white beard fell down to the very beginning of his chest. The old man smiled, “Altair you missed the battle!” The elf looked around seeing the men, “Oh for goodness sakes the dragon is a ally! Place your weapons down!” the men obeyed and slowly walked off from the dragon.

Altair lowered himself to the elf’s level smiling, “How is Max? How is my son Gandoor’e?” The elf didn’t answer only looked away slowly, “Gandoor’e where’s Max?”

The elf glanced at the red dragon and smiled, “You lost weight,”

The red dragon growled, “Don’t change the subject! Where’s Maximilien!” the dragon roared.

“Max heads off to the West alone… he left with his friends. Illidan, Kim`aina, Zestos, Muradin, and Alzhara left trying to find Max, your son is still alive…” Altair nodded slowly looking to the West viewing the tall mountains as mist formed hiding the tips.

Altair and Gandoor’e walked the plains a few miles from the Fortress. Altair could till smell the copper scent of blood spilled in the lands; he could also smell blood from a dragon. He recognized the blood from The Forest of Pandera… Mannoroth. Altair turned his large head to Gandoor’e, “Dragon’s blood has been spilt, but not by our ally?”

The elf nodded, “Your son defeated one of the Twin Dragons of Freze` of Green. Zestos killed the other…” The elf turned and smiled at Altair, “Your son was born during battle…” Altair smiled stopping, the elf saw a view tears streaming down Altair’s face. “He looks like you Altair. Same Crimson color, his wings, and head. However, he bears an ash frill and a horned back like yours. However…” the elf chuckled, “He can’t quite get fire down easily, however that will take time.”

“How tall is he? Is he Tyrande’s size?” Altair asked.

“No… it seems as Max grew as a boy, the sleeping hatchling inside him grew as well. Max is smaller than Zestos, so about up about lower than your shoulder. A good size to nuzzle him to death when you see him!” The elf smiled.

Altair nodded closing his eyes picturing Max, like him. Altair couldn’t believe it his son was a dragon like him. All hope gained inside of Altair, all of Jaina’s lies were false! Max and him would live forever together. Life in him would never die out; that flame would always burn for Max’s life would extend, with his. Altair felt luke warm tears pour from his face. All that made the red dragon content was his son was alive, and he was like his father, a dragon. He would take off tomorrow and find Max and go to the end with him... the Altair will return to his daughter find her and be together with his son and daughter...both like him, both forever will stay with him.