Chapter IV

Spectre made his way, rather lazily, over the mountain range and on to where his element had been stationed. News spread quickly of the utter devastation of some unknown group of knights, and of the sudden drive into the south. The embattlements at the top of the mountain range were still manned, of course, though only by a small component of construction engineers tasked to build up a solid, defendable border that could be used as a fallback.

Just in case.

Armageddon had stressed that, while resistance was unable to keep up with the speed of advance, it only meant that things would slow down, come to a stop, and perhaps even slide backwards once the masses of allied armies finally organized enough to counter attack. All of the possibilities, though, were nothing he truly needed to worry himself with. He was, after all, a scout. Armageddon would handle the details, his only true concern was to glean what information he could from anyone he chanced across, or anything he happened to see.

Dropping into the grasslands, he skirted around a low-burning fire and couldn't help but admire the devastation that he had missed. An entire regiment annihilated in one fell swoop. He would have to hear the story from Abshalom when he finally caught up to the other dragon.

Turning his gaze back to what lie ahead of him, he spied the signs of an encampment, and could smell the sulfurous smoke from the campfires. There was no mistaking his own element at all. Loud, obnoxious, disregarding any sense of stealth or concealment, but in the end no one could blame them. They were winning, the enemy was on the run, and there was little need to hide.

Grazing over the treetops of the forested areas that made up the beginning of the Southern Mirkilains, Spectre made his way towards the camp, bellowing what could have passed as a giant frog coughing and croaking at the same time. It was a means for the two dragons to identify one another, just so neither of them ended up mauling the other by mistake. Abshalom heard, and a guttural growl in response was the welcoming greeting that Spectre received shortly before setting down in the clearing.

It was an impressive sight. Already, engineers were hard at work clearing the area to prepare it to house the siege equipment, and walls were up on two sides of what appeared to be a defensible fort, all wood of course. He had to give Abshalom credit, while the other dragon did often times seem motivated by ego alone, he could still produce results. Spectre finally spied the other dragon off, lying on the ground and discussing something with a few of the battalion commanders, all human of course, as orcs were far too unstable mentally to lead.

"Abshalom," Spectre offered a faint bowing salute, "I see I missed a party."

"Ah, my trusted scout." Abshalom glanced to the others present around him and dismissed them all with a slight nod. "It was a beautiful sight. They even went so far as to build their own funeral pyre. I was impressed."

"Killed all of them, did you?"

"All save one." Abshalom stood, turning to walk away from the noise of construction. "Come, walk with me. I wish to hear how things are going back home."

Spectre nodded and fell in-step with his superior. "Things go well. The war machine is turning into a veritable juggernaut. Lord Armageddon is convinced that Queen Thakisis will keep the other gods at bay by providing us with weapons and skills that should give us the upper hand at all times."

"And of the Dragons of Light in the south?"

"No word has come regarding them yet. There is, allegedly, a mounted division of knights that works with the dragons. Could prove a threat, however they have not yet appeared."

"Most likely they are not yet ready for an attack, Spectre. The enemy is smart, they will not throw a valuable resource into harms way if there is the strong possibility that they will lose it. Still, the longer they wait, the more difficult their task becomes." Abshalom paused in a small clearing, his eyes closing as he breathed in the fresh night air.

Spectre watched him for a few moments. It was an odd sight, watching a black dragon become enthralled with a light, fresh breeze. He had, on occasion, even caught his superior gazing at the stars absently, shutting out the world around him. When confronted, of course, it was all denied.

"I left one of the Knights alive," Abshalom stated, rather suddenly.

Spectre furrowed his brow and could even feel a slight twitch in the muscles that lined his back. "Left one alive?"

"Oh yes. He was the leader of the group we demolished today. I met him, face to face, and he begged me to let him join his men in death. I politely declined. For all I know, he fell on his own sword. It was rather nice to watch him agonize over the death of his comrades."

"Could he return as a threat?"

"Hardly. He was broken on that battlefield after I was through with him. I did, of course, brand him. He'll not be harmed by our troops when they see the mark."

"You gave him the mark of Thakisis?"

"Yes, scarred and burned into his skin. He will be an exile to his own side forever, and ignored by ours. Of course, if he does manage to get himself killed by attacking somebeast or another, then I suppose he will just have gained what he wished for."

"You're growing soft, Abshalom. You should have killed him, left him to bleed to death slowly on the battlefield, not unleashed him behind our lines."

"He is not a threat, Spectre. If I perceived him to be one, I would have left one more carcass in the flames." Abshalom let his gaze leave the skies and offered a wry smirk to the scout. "If this…Knight comes back and gives us a problem, I will let you tear my own wings from my back and take the sky from me."

Spectre thought on the proposition for a few moments before nodding. While it seemed somewhat out of proportion, the bargain was just that. "We'll hope it doesn't come to that, hmm?"

Silence hovered over the two for a few moments. Abshalom went back to gazing up at the starts while Spectre just took in the surrounding area, preferring to look everywhere but at the other dragon.

"How much longer is this war going to continue before we meet the real resistance?"

Spectre turned back to Abshalom as the question was asked. "What? Oh, that much is unknown. The spies we've sent to try and infiltrate the enemy ranks have either vanished, or are unable to report. We can't confirm either."

"We're running headlong into something we can't see, in other words."

Spectre offered a reluctant shrug, turning and starting back towards the camp. "That could be one way to put it. I'm certain there's another explanation for it. Paladine would not simply hide all of his resources away when his people need them."

"The dragons of light? Pitiful creatures, really, who are most likely all in hiding. I'm sure Paladine would not forsake his people, but Paladine's creatures are another story." Abshalom let his eyes drop from the sky and down onto the still departing Spectre. "Do you know what happens to a warlord that becomes overzealous and overconfident? He falls, and the army falls with him."

Spectre chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Where one great figure falls, there is always another ready to rise and take his place. Do you honestly think Armageddon has not made a plan for that? He knows of his own mortality, and has made arrangements to deal with the issue should it arise."

"I do hope so, Spectre. But will Armageddon's own planning save the lives of those under him as well? I do sincerely doubt that."

Spectre stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "And what do you plan on doing?"

"I'll follow my leader to the depths of Hell and back if need be. I'm more curious about what the turncoat will do if that situation begins to play out."

Silence fell back over the clearing as the two dragons stared each other down. Spectre, ever judgmental and even going so far as to size up the other dragon in front of him, and Abshalom just holding a smug grin all the while. Spectre was the first to move, turning and trudging back towards the camp with a snort. Abshalom just chuckled to himself, lying down in the clearing and returning to his previous task of stargazing.