~Note~ I do not own Dragonlance or its associated affiliates. Trust
me, if I did, I wouldn't be here writing fan fiction. ^.^
This little bit of work takes place during the War of Souls. (Dragons of Fallen Sun, Dragons of Lost Star, and Dragons of Vanished Moon novels) If you have not read up to this point, I suggest not reading this, as a few secrets may be revealed that you wish to read about first. Anyway, I thought that writing a story about a little-known breed of dragon might be interesting. (Yes, there are bronze dragons) So enjoy. ^.^
Kynsath crawled silently through the scraggly forest growth, constantly looking behind for more draconians. She shuddered slightly as she passed the dusty remains of the two she had dispatched earlier. She trekked further and further into the shadows, still very many a mile from her lair. The dragon dared not bring her kill home, even with the entrance carefully hidden. Finally coming upon the edge of a deep ravine, Kynsath used her magic to shift her bronze body into that of a large tawny hawk. She spiraled down about halfway along the cliff face, slowing briefly before a large tree hurled over in some ancient flood. Searching once more for Beryl's minions, she quickly banished the illusion of pure rock and darted into her cave. Stretching back into her draconic body, the bronze replaced the illusion and padded to a cavern in the very back of the system. A sigh of relief escaped Kynsath as she curled around the grassy nest of nine shining bronze eggs.
Strike pumped his wings faster and faster, each movement burning his lungs. Looking back briefly, he saw the dark shapes still following closely behind. Three of Beryl's puppets, the green dragons slowly gained on the tiring blue. The traitor would not get away this time. Strike tucked his wings, plummeting into the bushy pines of the forest at the base of the Kharolis Mountains. The greens screamed furiously, they being too large to fit between even the enormous trees of the Kharolis. Strike used this hesitation to lose his pursuers. He glided into a lush grassy valley, only to be tackled heavily by the lead green. They wrestled on the ground, using talon and tooth to hack at the enemy. The green sucked in a huge breath, preparing to breathe his poisonous gas at the blue. But instead, he caught a fatal lightning bolt in the face. The other two greens pounced on Strike, tearing at his leathery wings. He blasted the two with lightning as well, and collapsed onto the blood-covered grass.
Kynsath, hearing the commotion close to her lair, left to investigate. She arrived to find the remains of three green dragons strewn about the plain, and a lone blue, still breathing. Barely. Lightning crackled between her jaws, intending to end the life of this blue. But an odd sense of pity overcame the bronze. She snorted annoyed, and lifted the larger blue onto her shoulders. She searched for more chromatic wyrms, dragging the other dragon to her lair.
This little bit of work takes place during the War of Souls. (Dragons of Fallen Sun, Dragons of Lost Star, and Dragons of Vanished Moon novels) If you have not read up to this point, I suggest not reading this, as a few secrets may be revealed that you wish to read about first. Anyway, I thought that writing a story about a little-known breed of dragon might be interesting. (Yes, there are bronze dragons) So enjoy. ^.^
Kynsath crawled silently through the scraggly forest growth, constantly looking behind for more draconians. She shuddered slightly as she passed the dusty remains of the two she had dispatched earlier. She trekked further and further into the shadows, still very many a mile from her lair. The dragon dared not bring her kill home, even with the entrance carefully hidden. Finally coming upon the edge of a deep ravine, Kynsath used her magic to shift her bronze body into that of a large tawny hawk. She spiraled down about halfway along the cliff face, slowing briefly before a large tree hurled over in some ancient flood. Searching once more for Beryl's minions, she quickly banished the illusion of pure rock and darted into her cave. Stretching back into her draconic body, the bronze replaced the illusion and padded to a cavern in the very back of the system. A sigh of relief escaped Kynsath as she curled around the grassy nest of nine shining bronze eggs.
Strike pumped his wings faster and faster, each movement burning his lungs. Looking back briefly, he saw the dark shapes still following closely behind. Three of Beryl's puppets, the green dragons slowly gained on the tiring blue. The traitor would not get away this time. Strike tucked his wings, plummeting into the bushy pines of the forest at the base of the Kharolis Mountains. The greens screamed furiously, they being too large to fit between even the enormous trees of the Kharolis. Strike used this hesitation to lose his pursuers. He glided into a lush grassy valley, only to be tackled heavily by the lead green. They wrestled on the ground, using talon and tooth to hack at the enemy. The green sucked in a huge breath, preparing to breathe his poisonous gas at the blue. But instead, he caught a fatal lightning bolt in the face. The other two greens pounced on Strike, tearing at his leathery wings. He blasted the two with lightning as well, and collapsed onto the blood-covered grass.
Kynsath, hearing the commotion close to her lair, left to investigate. She arrived to find the remains of three green dragons strewn about the plain, and a lone blue, still breathing. Barely. Lightning crackled between her jaws, intending to end the life of this blue. But an odd sense of pity overcame the bronze. She snorted annoyed, and lifted the larger blue onto her shoulders. She searched for more chromatic wyrms, dragging the other dragon to her lair.