The Wyvern Damme of Drakenwall, part 1

The Citadel of Drakenwall was a well named fortress. On the edge of the high mountains of human controlled lands, it had stood for generations as a bastion of strength where humans stood against the forces of the Demon Lord. During the era of the last demon lord, when the monsters raged across the lands, multiplying rapidly and slaughtering and devouring humans, the Citadel stood strong in this area of the world. A small pocket of hope for humanity in its region. The reason for that, of course, was the Dragoons.

Dragoons, an order as ancient as the citadel, were Knights bonded from their youth to the dragons and wyverns that served as their mounts into battle. Warriors specializing in lance, crossbow, sword and draconic tactics, they flew and fought as fiercely as their beasts. In the wake of the death of the last Demon Lord, with the monsters retreating to their lands to fight and dispute the title of the next Demon Lord, the small pocket of humanity seeded in the Citadel was able to expand. Generations passing as humanity grew strong again and the Monsters were kept at bay. Farmland recovered. Towns rebuilt. Humanity flourished as it always did in the wake of a Demon Lord's fall.

Yet, rumor had come on the heels of heroes fleeing out of the deeper parts of the monster lands. The strongest, most ferocious monsters were stirring. Awakening from their gluttony of generations ago. It seemed the title of the Demon Lord would be claimed soon. And as ever, it would mean the reignition of the war.

Only this time, the war would take on a dimension on one could possibly imagine...



Defender of the Drakenwall, Lord Commander Anondrius, strode the battlements of the Citadel. He was a veteran of many battles, and had earned his title and his role, granted him by the King. Foremost tactician, skilled dragoon, and renowned wyvern rider. He and his beast, a beautiful green damme named Zephyra, had ridden into battle time and time again. Leading the forces of Drakenwall to keep the orcs, ogres, goblins, trolls, giants and other numerous horrors of the high mountains from rushing down onto the fertile fields of humanities lands.

"Hail, Anon!," cried a pair of guards as he walked forward. One calling out, "Queenie's about ready to lay her clutch?"

"Yes, Corporal. With luck. She has been in quite broody of late. Keeps demanding more and more to satisfy her!," Anon said with a chuckle, "Hopefully we'll have a good twenty new eggs for the next generation."

Wide eyed, the young Corporal paused, his dreams clear on his face. "Really sir?," he asked, so full of hope it brought a smile to the commander's lips. Anondrius rested his gauntleted hand on the boy's shoulder, "Keep the faith, Corporal. With luck you'll be chosen. Won't take long once they've been laid. You know Wyverns are keen to crack the shell and see the world." The Corporal smiled, then snapped a sharp salute to the commander. His fellow guard, a more grizzled fellow, chuckled, "We're lookin' forward to the laying as much as you sir." The Sergeant, one who had never tried for a Wyvern bonding, saluted smartly, "They're always so noisy."

"Noisy indeed...," Anon chuckled, snapping a salute and dismissal to his fellows. Turning, he headed for the Wyvern Tower, where his big green beauty awaited him...




The Wyvern Tower, along with the Dragon Tower, were built centuries ago. Designed to withstand the forces of the weather, enemy attack, and house as many as a hundred Wyverns and half a dozen Dragons respectively. A vast domed aerie on the base of each, with a high, wide tower rising straight up like fingers raised to touch the Gods, they were mostly hollow with grand passageways in and out. The lowest level of each was reserved for the vast storage areas, the great furnaces that kept the heat rising up through the towers, and passageways to take the vast ammounts of generated waste to the pits where it would eventually be turned into top quality fertilizer for the farms beyond.

It as a hub of activity, as both Wyverns and Dragons required the greatest care. Teams to bring food and replenish water, change their bedding, and handle the waste. The scent was a mixture of smells that was, like a horse's stable, beloved of only those who worked there. Atop it all, however, was the scent of Wyvern. Unlike Dragons, who smelled so often of the fires they belched forth, Wyverns had a more sharp, spicy scent. It reminded the Commander of spices used by the gentry in the parties he was so often invited to and as equally as often skived off from. Really, his place was here, not playing power games among nobility that would cower if they even saw his beautiful Zephyra in all her glory.

One had to be strong of leg to be a Dragoon it is said. Most people took that to mean Dragoons jump and performed heroic leaps. Really though, it was because of the stairs. The towers had so many that it took many a debated scholar to count them. Most used the magically reinforced lifts, which were powered by the heat of the furnaces through some arcane means only the mages who helped build these towers understood. Yet, as a Dragoon, the Commander had made it a ritual to climb the steps up to the level reserved for the broody Wyverns. Puffing and blowing slightly, Anondrius stepped onto the platform as he heard his Zephyra voice her displeasure. Striding forward, moving among the great sheltered alcoves that mimicked the natural nesting grounds of the species. She was one of the only broody dragons at the moment, and her belly was round with her clutch.

Like all of her kind, she preferred to make her own nest with materials carefully chosen by her mate. And while she accepted mating dances and randy lancers in her time, she never had taken one to be a permanent broodmate. So it fell to the Commander and her crew to take care of her. Upon seeing him, the magnificent beast let out a trill, rolling her tongue against the roof of her sharp tooth filled mouth with a sound surprisingly sensual for such an animal.

On hearing it, Anon smiled. It was the special sound she always made on seeing him. Walking right up to her without any fear, a key to handling all of the dragonkin, Anon accepted and returned the loving nuzzle of her great triangular head. She was larger then even the biggest horse, possessing two large wings and her hind legs. She was the largest and strongest of the Wyvern flight, many being her children.

Zephyra was the undisputed Matron Female of the flight and ruled with claw and fang. She had the highest kill, and it was her who slew the the rogue Dragon unoriginally called Bloodfang that had been terrorizing the local farmland. She had been with him since he first joined the Wallguard as a corporal, and hatching from her egg, had wobbled right into his arms as he stood around with the other hopefuls.

It had been almost twenty years since that beautiful day, and she was as beautiful then as she was now.

"Oh you big girl... whats wrong?," Anon lovingly asked as his hands stroked her ridges just how she liked it.

Zephyra snorted and glanced to the side where a large pile of nesting materials was laid out. Anon glanced to, and saw two young men peeking out from behind it.

Anon sighed, "Nick! Jeffrey! Take that pile and go down and get another! You know she has to have it just right!"

The boys groaned, as one asked, a charming blonde scamp who had a weary look to his face, "Aw, but Commander sir. This is the fifth time."

"Then you go down and you do it again! Broody Wyverns need to be satisfied. If you two even hope to be Corporals and Chosen you better get your strength up and learn your work!," snapped Anon.

The other boy, his red hair marking him of the northern tribes, swatted his friend, "I told you."

"You did not, you said she'd accept this one if we took it away and brought it back!"

Huffing at the boys and giving them the same look the Commander was, Zephyra gave a sigh and reared up. Flapping her great wings and startling the boys from their argument and quickly set to work with paired squeaks. Laughing, Anon watched them go, dragging off the large pallets of nesting materials. Mixtures of glittering stones, trees, rocks, branches and hay. Really, Zephyra had made the most luxurious nest one could imagine already, and was just trying to gather up the finishing touches.

Turning back to his Wyvern, Anon shared some more private moments. Going over her scales, stroking her hide, measuring the feel of the eggs in her stomach with gentle pressure if his hands, "Come on girl. These are ready. You just need one final touch?" Zephyra gave a little huff. Retreating to her nest, lashing her tail with the irritability of a broody mother and buffeting his head as she went, the great Wyvern strode up into the alcove and curled up. Laughing, Anon strode up in her wake, leaning down to give her forehead a soft kiss. Zephyra responded with another contented trill, curling up around her broody stomach.

"Be a good girl, sweetheart, you know you want those out as much as the younglings," Anon said with a gentle laugh. Sitting down on the edge of the nest. Zephyra gave a little irritated flick of her tail, which Anon interpreted, "Not satisfied with the current crop? Don't worry... ...remember how green I was when we first met?" He sighed, leaning back against her side. Zephyra gently shifted her head, resting it beside his legs. She used to love laying her head in his lap, though when she got large enough that became impossible, she instead lovingly licked his leg and let her eyes close. Both losing themselves in the memories.

However, the reminiscing was cut short by a strident alarm call that was raised throughout the fortress. The magical sirens always set the younger Dragonkin to roaring and now was no different. Raising himself and using Zephyra's rising head to draw himself to his feet in a movement that was born of out long familiarity, Anon looked worriedly to the north, "What now?" Zephyra crooned softly, sounding concerned, her tail coming down in front of him and half curling around his waist. Anon turned back, "Don't worry, Zephyra. I'll go see what that is and be back for the laying. I won't leave you... and I won't go off alone." He leaned down, kissing her head again and with a gentle trill the beautiful Wyvern released him. Turning, the Commander of the Drakenwall broke into a run.




Something felt wrong about the storm...

Commander Anondrius stood tall, his cloak billowing as he clutched his helmet to his side. His second in command, a big red haired Northerner named Karl, stood on the step just below him. Both looked out on the storm circling the mountain peak. They both knew what it meant. There were many signs of a Demon Lord's election, and this was the one that they well. The rise of the Demon Lord brought with it a surge of power across the lands, with the energy of the Lord's dominance taking control and rendering all monsters subservient. The entire process was mostly unknown, but the commander had heard the legends passed down through the soldiers of the Drakenwall.

"...Its going to be a bad one," rumbled Karl. "We're going to need all the Dragons and Wyverns we can get our hands on. I hope the Order sends more worthy men then the last crop. Bunch of washouts. None of them strong enough to even look a drake in the eye!"

Anon sighed, Karl had been his companion through several campaigns, and his hardness earned through many campaigns and the loss of a Dragon he had ridden for twenty years to a rock slide set off by a rampaging Orc pack. "They'll grow into it, Karl. We all were newbies once."

Raising the watchstone, Anon looked through it once more to the distant storm clouds, and grunted. "It is going to be bad though. What do you think all the pink and violet lightning means?" Anon handed over the magically imbued quartz crystal that served to allow long distance viewing to Karl, who accepted it and looked, "Damned if I know, Anondrius. Maybe the Demon Lord this time was a woman." Anondrius snorted, "A female Demon Lord? ... that could be interesting." Taking one more moment to study the storm, Anondrius turned to his second in command and said, "Make sure everyone is wing ready. Set the guards on double shifts and make sure to keep watch all hours. If we get attacked, I want to be ready."

"Yes, Commander. And the greenhorns?," Karl barked, lowering the watchstone.

"Keep them back. Let them stand guard during daylight hours. Send the fasted wyvern back to the capital to report to the King. And send out some scout riders too... but not too close to the mountain. Lets be doubly prepared. Should give some of our younger riders some training," added Anondrius as he descended. "Something feels wrong..."

They would find out just how wrong in only a few more days...


The messenger sent to the King brought them word first. Monster sightings in greater numbers across kingdoms. Attacks hadn't occurred, but it was clear that they were getting ready for an offensive. Vague reports of a 'Demon Storm' that was sweeping across the lands. And in its wake, monsters were... changed.

Reports through what magical links that had survived the storm were nothing short of chaotic at best. Humanity was clearly reeling from this new Demon Lord's ascension that had caused unconfirmed levels of damage and destruction. And the monsters... no one was really sure what was going on with the monsters.

With the lad in a panic relaying the information, Anondrius summoned his commanders and they all agreed. Batten down, bring all Wyverns and Dragons to roost and keep them with their Riders. Double the wall guard and keep everything set. None of the dragoons would condone chaining up their beasts, despite directives to from the King.

"Be strong, men. We've faced more dire situations then this," Anondrius spoke in calm, reassuring tones. Even if he didn't believe his own words. "Whatever happens, remember... we are Dragoons. They are our mounts. We belong to them and they belong to us. You all know the code. You know what you have to do. Be with them, comfort them, show them you love them and you are theirs. Do the things they love to have done to them. And remember... don't be afraid. Never fear your Drake, and they will never hurt you."

Saluting, the Dragoon core broke rank and dispersed to their beasts. Anondrius turned, looking to Karl, "I leave you in command of the keep for now. I want to be with Zephyra. Broody as she is, this will be harder on her." Karl nodded, crisply saluting. "Be safe, sir. I'll keep the teams on standby." Anon snapped, "Do nothing of the sort. We can expect--"

A shout rang out from the walls, shouted and relayed by the guards as warriors rushed and armed themselves, heading quickly to positions, "OGRES IN THE PASS! OGRES IN THE PASS!" Alarm gongs rang, and the magical warning sirens activated through the crystalline structures and relayed.

Sighing, Anon turned toward the north, "...When it rains it pours. Come on!" With Karl and half a dozen guardsmen on his heels, Anon sprinted up the stairs to the walls leading to the northern pass. As Karl and Anon ran, he saw soldiers gathering bows, crossbows, and lances getting into position. Fires below cauldrons of pitch were being stoked and kindled, and cries and roars from the dragon and wyvern towers as heads peeked out from vast windows and from ledges were seen. Their teams and the riders were all moving to calm them, knowing that they didn't risk taking wing with the storm of the Demon Lord's ascension on its way.

Standing above the main gates, Anon raised a watchstone, looked on at the forces of Ogres assembling in the distance, "...Strange. They don't seem armed for battle..." Karl, raising a watchstone of his own, grunted. "They're the forerunners. Assembling a camp. They are whipping orcs slaves into digging fire pits. ...Looks like we got the makings of a siege." Anon grunted, lowering his stone. "Damn... this is not going to end well. Lets hope they don't have any artillery... without the drakes we're going to be unable to deal with them."

Karl grunts, "If they have some trolls or some magi amongst them, this could get ugly. Let along if some bigger beasts come down..." Anon shakes his head, "It can't be helped. I doubt they're going to attack before the Demon Lord's ascension reaches us. Even then, we may get to see for ourselves what this 'aberrant monster behavior' is all about."

Sighing, Karl says, "Part of me is glad to be living through this. Another part is scared as hell."

Anondrius smiles, "Be strong, my friend. Be strong. Drakenwall will stand." Turning, he roars out in his command voice, "DRAKENWALL WILL STAND!"

As one, the nearer guardsmen roared in answer, "DRAKENWALL WILL STAND!"

It quickly rose into a chant that spread across the walls and towers. A chant that spat defiance in the face of the monsters coming to eat them. Of the newly risen Demon Lord. Of the forces of chaos themselves.

The rally cries were broken by a loud, and all to familiar shriek coming from the tower. Anon, head snapping around, cried out, "Zephyra! She needs me." Karl waved him on, "Go! Go!" Anon little needed the encouragement. Breaking into a full run. He had heard that sound a number of times. It was the shriek announcing her laying, a warning to those who would dare try and steal her eggs. He had promised her that he would be there, and now-- Anon's feet ate the ground, thighs and calves burning as he leaped and dove, proving again that Dragoons do really indeed know how to jump when they have to. "MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY!," was quickly carried out ahead of him as he rushed into the Wyvern Tower and ascended the long staircase to the rookery. Yet even then, it was a long way between himself and his beloved Wyvern.



It was on the third landing that he heard the cries.

"What is that?"

"The storm! The storm!"

Turning, Anon looked out a nearby arrow slit and saw with growing horror break across the whole of the mountain range. A rumbling rush of power breaking over it, sweeping across the skies. A violet and black and pink line of raw demonic energy that swept the clouds out of the sky and spread in a wall over the world. The wind howled, the ground shook, and the sound of a thousand screams filled the air... cries that sounded almost... orgasmic. Unable to do anything but stare in horror as his hand reached out to grip the solid stone of the tower. Dropping to his knees, he /felt/ the power sweep over him. It felt like a caress. Like a lover's touch marking every inch of his body. It felt... incredible. Yet the world shook and the storm roared and thunder crashed. Roars of dragons and wyverns were heard across the fortress only to go eerily, deathly silent.

In the wake of the wave, there was silence.

It felt... wrong. There shouldn't be silence. The aeries were always full of the shrieking younglings and the roars of the great beasts were heard. Raising his head, eyes full of growing terror, there was only one thought in his mind. A name that breathed out from his lips, "...Zephyra..."

Breaking into a run, Anon could hear the sounds of activity renewed. Cries of pain and distress rising from animals who had bolted and spooked by the wave of demonic energy. Sounds of the injured, the cries for assistance and barked orders. Other cries sounding panicked, and others... strange. So many people needed him right now, but right now only one of them mattered. The wyvern that waited for him above...

...yet when he burst into the rookery, there was nothing but silence. No one was present. The new load of nest building material was present and torn through in what seemed a rush. Spreading everything apart and leaving nothing visible.

Where was Zephyra?