Spirit Within the Garden

Working Together

“Time works against us. We must bring this wretched thing to a place no other can find it and ward it away. If her followers seek it and find it, Ashmadia may be brought back to this realm and her hatred will be spewed out upon us. She will take up all that she surveys and add it to her hoard. Take the heart to the Spire.

Adar 4, 1003 AR

Her eyes stared up at the still-beating heart of the dragon goddess. It was suspended in the air above by the forces of the Weird of Air. Great work had gone into forming the pools of the elemental Weird in this place and weaving the magic in this place as to lock the fiendish remnant forever. Alowyga was tired from the work, but finally Ashmadia’s heart was bound in this place.

The elemental Weird appeared from their pools to congratulate Alowyga. The sisters of the Witte Wieven were formed of the purest of the elements and radiated the purity of nature. Alowyga was humbled by their presence and by their accolades, but she knew that what she had done was indeed a great deed. A deed with a heavy toll, but worth it in every respect.

Flashes of that fateful fight were burned into Alowyga’s mind. She knew that it was not one hero that defeated Ashmadia that day, but the teamwork the group had developed over so many months of travel battling the vile spawn of the Great Red Wyrm. She remembered drawing her primal power from the earth and coursing it through the Lady Raven’s arms to aid her ferocious sword swings. She remembered Sir Blasing’s powerful magic that made Lord Haverhill’s deadly daggers all the more telling. It was teamwork that made this day possible.

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The Fated Moment

“My name is Ashmadia. I am power both ancient and unrivaled… as mighty as the heavens and as old as the cosmos. I will not bleed, for I am but strength formless… Feeble things of flesh…you’ve come this far but to fail!”

Shebest 11, 1002 AR

Alowyga Sianama’s lance found the dragon goddess’ heart through the bastion of its scales. The wicked beast’s body wracked with mighty spasms as the death blow twisted deeper. The fearsome scream erupted from its hellish maw and finally it fell to the earth. It lay in the heat of the summer sun outside the gates of the Old Hisrech. Ashmadia’s march upon the Dynast-King was finally ended.

Alowyga ripped her great spear from the dragon’s hide and grimaced, looking about to see her noble compatriots’ bodies lying where they had met death at Ashmadia’s whim. Adrian Haverhill’s small halfling body was scattered about in charred lumps of flesh, every other piece recognizable. Abraham Blasing’s staff stood in the earth, still glowing from the protection spell he had raised early in the conflict, but his body was at its base, scarred from the colossal teeth and claws of Ashmadia. Lady AlcardĂ©’s sword remained in Ashmadia’s right eye socket, but the White Raven’s body was cast out toward the horizon by the mightiest stroke of the dragon goddess’ tail.

Alowyga did not mourn for them, for they had fought bravely and their deeds reaped the greatest reward: the defeat of the abomination known as Ashmadia, dragon goddess queen of Vetalis. She tore out the heart of the beast and dragged the massive thing from the site, hoping the binding power of the Weird of the Witte Wieven would hold Ashmadia’s power outside the mortal coil and forever locked in the Hells of Ashtar.

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