Epilogue
In the dark, consuming night, one man stood against all odds, clearly outnumbered, wielding the Glave of Triumph. Three dragons, fierce by nature, starved by their master, closed in upon their prey, the last of the line of the Highlanders and their clans. From one of three lords of the Highlands, one Paladin stood up to face the three demons of the night. The Paladin, who was named The Stormbringer by his tribe, lifted his Glave towards the dragons, his blade shining in the moonlit sky, the red Sunset forming behind his head. The dragon to the right of the Paladin roared, and swung his mighty horns into the Lord. He swiftly parried the swing, and thrust his sword into the neck of the beast, making it scream and holler in pain.
The second of the dragons, in the middle of the trio, nudged his companion with his nose. Seeing him on the floor, breathing deeply - and dying - lifted its tail and swung it towards the Paladin, knocking him away. The third swept in, using its wings to dive in from above, and bit at the fallen man. He swung his Glave at the reptile, its left wing being swept off. Out of balance, it tried to claw at the man, but he continued the attack with a thrust that sawed the dragon's head off. Now, alone against the might of the warrior, the leader of the group jumped in, claws flailing wildly. One of its lunges hit the man, throwing him to his back. Using his fist, he punched the dragon in the face as it came in for the kill, stunning it. Then, drawing his Dirk from his sheath, he stabbed upwards, puncturing the jugular vein. The dragon's last sight in its dying seconds were the ones of the Paladin, his odd coloured eyes, one green and one golden. The might of Connavar, and of Bain, and of Jaim Grymauch was now consumed by this man. Leader of the free Highlands. Stormbringer.
In the dark, consuming night, one man stood against all odds, clearly outnumbered, wielding the Glave of Triumph. Three dragons, fierce by nature, starved by their master, closed in upon their prey, the last of the line of the Highlanders and their clans. From one of three lords of the Highlands, one Paladin stood up to face the three demons of the night. The Paladin, who was named The Stormbringer by his tribe, lifted his Glave towards the dragons, his blade shining in the moonlit sky, the red Sunset forming behind his head. The dragon to the right of the Paladin roared, and swung his mighty horns into the Lord. He swiftly parried the swing, and thrust his sword into the neck of the beast, making it scream and holler in pain.
The second of the dragons, in the middle of the trio, nudged his companion with his nose. Seeing him on the floor, breathing deeply - and dying - lifted its tail and swung it towards the Paladin, knocking him away. The third swept in, using its wings to dive in from above, and bit at the fallen man. He swung his Glave at the reptile, its left wing being swept off. Out of balance, it tried to claw at the man, but he continued the attack with a thrust that sawed the dragon's head off. Now, alone against the might of the warrior, the leader of the group jumped in, claws flailing wildly. One of its lunges hit the man, throwing him to his back. Using his fist, he punched the dragon in the face as it came in for the kill, stunning it. Then, drawing his Dirk from his sheath, he stabbed upwards, puncturing the jugular vein. The dragon's last sight in its dying seconds were the ones of the Paladin, his odd coloured eyes, one green and one golden. The might of Connavar, and of Bain, and of Jaim Grymauch was now consumed by this man. Leader of the free Highlands. Stormbringer.