Give the story a Power stone and Review that would help the story.
Also comment down below any questions, errors, ideas so we can keep the conversation going and gain traction. Even a hi or thx helps!
-
The Pale Snowfields stretched farther than sight, a vast, silent sea of frost. The land did not breathe here it exhaled stillness. Winds whispered like ghosts across endless fields of snow, each flake hard as stone. Above them loomed spires of ice older than many, carved by only time, some pulsed faintly with imprisoned light.
At the center of this frozen dominion lay the Court of Frost and Bone. It was no mere palace. It was a glacier the size of a mountain, hollowed and sculpted by talons and claws into cathedrals of ice. Pillars of frozen marrow rose in slow spirals toward vaults webbed with hoarfrost, and through the translucent walls, veins of pale blue flame drifted like sleeping stars. Where lesser dragons built fortresses, the White Lady had fashioned a kingdom of greatness.
Her throne sat upon the summit, a dais of clear crystal and ancient bone, its base encircled by feathers petrified into translucent glass. Atop it reclined the White Lady of Frost and Bone, High Dragon of the Pale Fields, master of Winter Stillness, and Daughter of the Twin Thrones, the great Dragon Lord of Bone and the Lady of Frost.
She was beauty and terror sculpted into one: a four-winged dragon of impossible grace, her form sheathed in feathers so pale they shimmered like starlight on new snow. Beneath the down, glimpses of scale gleamed like mother-of-pearl. Her eyes were twin glaciers unblinking, proud, and patient beyond reckoning.
Every breath that left her maw came as a slow fog that crystallized into snowflakes before drifting to the ground. Where her wings moved, frost formed. Where her talons rested, the ice hummed with resonance. She was the breath of winter given will, the quiet that follows death's embrace.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/128704501844570138/
Around her throne gathered her Triune Lords, the three who served beneath her banner of stillness and rule. First was Ravagan, the Crimson Drakonar, her Warlord. His scales were dull red like dying embers, and where flame should have lived, only smoke lingered. He was the blade of her wrath, sealed and bound by frost, used only when she willed destruction.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/218213544441575722/
Second was Vorthul, the Shadow Hydra. A two headed serpentine dragon, each head whispering to each other, shadows pooled where his body coiled. His breath carried no heat, nor sound. The Hydra was a living executioner, a sentient labyrinth of secrets and sins swallowed whole.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/23714335518085068/
And third was Lady Shiun, the Golden Imugi, her Seer. Unlike her draconic kin, Shiun bore no wings, her body long and serpentine, scales radiant like molten gold beneath frost. A crown of delicate antlers sprouted from her head, each tip glowing faintly like spun stars.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/2181499816281074/
It was she who now slithered through the throne chamber, her body leaving trails of shimmering condensation in the air. At her side drifted two lesser attendants, scaled scribes wrapped in frost-veil robes, clutching scrolls sealed in ice.
The great hall fell silent as she entered. Above, the aurora curtains shimmered through the glacial roof, bleeding green and violet light across the alabaster pillars. Shiun lowered her head, "My Lady," she said, voice like silver bells under snow.
The White Lady did not move. Her breath steamed softly in the air. "Speak," she said at last, her voice quiet, resonant like the cracking of ice on a still lake.
"The new upstart, the unscaled one in the south has defeated the Black Dread and made him bow to him!"
That drew the full attention of the court. Even the Hydra's heads stilled. "Was this the one that slew the Silver Dragon?" Ravagan was the first to speak.
"Yes," Shiun said. "The soft flesh has taken over its lands."
Vorthul let out a cackling laugh as one head spoke. "Then the fool deserved his chains. Most likely this thing is something the silver dragon was making in his lab and it escaped and got the better of him."
"That should teach you all not to mess with forces you do not understand," the White lady finally intoned. The Lady's eyes glowed faintly, icy halos shining around her pupils. "Nonetheless he has failed me," she said softly, her voice both quiet and terrible. "But that is nothing new. He was always a creature of noise and hunger."
"This surprises no one," Vorthul finished for her, his heads grinning. "The Black Dread was a brute, not a soldier. His pride outweighed his flame. If he has been chained by some clever upstart, so be it. The Nest loses nothing of value."
Ravagan rumbled agreement. "A true Lord should have crushed such insolence in a single breath."
The Lady's gaze remained distant, unfocused, as if watching snow drift beyond the hall. "All the same… a curiosity.
Shiun's coils tensed faintly. "But my High Lady, my lords, forgive me but curiosity may soon become a concern. I have watched his ascent through my sights. His fire does not fade. He has begun gathering others; mercenaries, drakes, and kinless dragonlings by the dozens. Their forges burn all day as they prepare for War!"
The White Lady leaned back, her four wings folding elegantly. "You speak as though this mortal could reach us here as though fire could climb through winter."
"Already he has conquered two biomes now and bends ancient Words to his will. If left unchecked my sight tells me—"
"Your sight," the Lady interrupted, voice like a blade through still water, "shows you too much and too far. You mistake the glow of a candle for the dawn."If left unchecked," the White Lady interrupted gently, "the fire will consume itself. That is the nature of passion."
She turned her gaze toward the ceiling, where veins of aurora light bled through the ice. "If every flicker of rebellion demanded my attention, the Pale would never rest. The Nest spawns fools, conquerors, prophets, and tyrants each century. They burn. They rise. They fall. And when the ashes settle, snow covers all."
Ravagan lowered his head in affirmation. "As it always has."
Vorthul's heads murmured in a slow harmony: "All warmth fades beneath her shadow."
The Lady's eyes half-closed. "Exactly. You are still young, Shiun. Still believing that every ripple in the snow hides a leviathan beneath. You see omens where there are only storms."
Shiun bowed again, though her eyes dimmed. "Then… you will not act?"
"No." The White Lady's tone was soft, final. "I have better matters to attend to than chasing sparks in the south."
Ravagan's tail lashed. "The Oblivion Dragon." The name itself—Oblivion Dragon—seemed to darken the air. At that, even the Hydra's heads went still.
The Lady inclined her head. "Indeed." Outside, the wind howled, a hollow, distant moan that seemed to echo her words.
"The beast stirs again," she continued, her tone thoughtful, almost pleased. "I have felt its shadow pressing at the edges of my realm. Its hunger gnaws beneath the glaciers. That… is a foe worth my attention."
The chamber dimmed as her power pulsed; cold and great. Frost crept across the floor, sealing cracks, freezing even the air itself. Her subjects bowed instinctively, overwhelmed by the weight of her presence.
"Do not worry too much about this new upstart," she said softly to her seer. "Continue your watch, Golden One. If his flame survives another season, bring me word again. Until then…" her eyes gleamed faintly, "enjoy the spectacle. Even the world's death throes can be beautiful."
Shiun's head lowered, though her heart still churned with warning. "Yes, my Lady." The Imugi hesitated a fraction too long, withdraw her golden scales glowed faintly in the blue ice light as she slithered past the pillars.
As the great doors of frost closed behind her, the hall resumed its quiet stillness. Ravagan stretched, molten breath rising in slow plumes. "You should have let me go," he rumbled. "It would be sport."
The White Lady's wings curled around her throne. "And risk breaking the balance of the South? No. Let them bleed and bicker. Every battle fought far from our borders makes the Pale stronger."
Vorthul's heads whispered as one. "The seer's fears will fester."
"She sees too much," the Lady murmured. "That is the curse of sight, it always jumps at shadows." Above them, the aurora brightened, painting her feathers in pale fire. She raised her head, gazing into the endless horizon of frozen night.
Far to the south, she could faintly sense it, a flicker of warmth, small, defiant, but undeniably alive. Her lips curved faintly, almost wistful. "Let the boy burn his mountains," she whispered. "When the ash settles, the snow will fall again."
And with that, the Lady of Frost and Bone closed her eyes. Her breath deepened, and the court dimmed once more, sinking into a silence that could outlast ages. Outside, the Pale Snowfields stretched to infinity, a kingdom of white and death and stillness. Yet, far beyond its borders, the first embers of war began to glow.
- - -
Artorius walked into the edge of the Black Dragon Keep along with his army, his eyes scanning the sprawling tents, campfires, and rough-hewn barricades that marked the gathering of mercenaries from all over. The air was thick with the scent of smoke, blood, and the unmistakable odor of war. The thud of hammers on anvils, the clash of training weapons, and the shouted commands echoed across the chaos, but all of it felt like a mere murmur compared to the storm that churned within Artorius' chest.
He had sent word out. They had answered. Now, his army was formed. The sea of faces that greeted him were an eclectic, violent bunch lawless, hungry, and eager for the promises of wealth, power, and the chance to let out their bloodlust.
These were seasoned killers, hardened by battle, who had heard the whispers of his deeds. Each one wore the mark of experience; scars, tattoos, tattered banners but beneath their ragged appearances lay a common thread: ambition.
He walked past the various mercenaries, taking note of them, he had his men set up a makeshift stage. The crowd slowly gathered and watched him as he stopped forward then stood there towering over them all, his presence like a storm on the horizon. His eyes burned with the intensity of fire as he surveyed the mercenaries.
"I am Artorius," he said, his voice booming across the field, resonating with the authority of one who had already claimed his place in history. "The Slayer of the Silver Dragon, the Conqueror of the Black Dread, the Lord of the Crystal Expanse and the Dark Peaks. I am the one who has carved a path through dragons and fools alike, and now… I stand before you."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the gathered mercenaries, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. "You've heard of me. You've heard of my power. I've come to offer you more than just war. I offer you a place in my ranks. But let it be known... there are no weaklings here. Only the strong and those willing to serve under one who will burn through the Nest if need be."
The tension in the air was thick, and it didn't take long for one loudmouthed fool to step forward, a burly drake with a wild, unkempt beard and a sword on its back. "I don't care about your bloody titles!" it shouted, swaggering up to the stage. "I've slain more than my fair share of young dragons. If you think you can intimidate us with fancy words, you're sorely mistaken!"
Artorius didn't flinch. He simply extended his hand toward the dragon. A moment passed, and then without warning he uttered a single word of power. "Flame!"
The dragon's body was engulfed in flames in an instant, the Word of Flame twisting and surging through the air like a living thing. The crowd froze in place, watching in stunned silence as it was consumed in an inferno of heat and power that made the surrounding temperature feel like the heart of a volcano. Artorius released the magic as quickly as it had come, leaving only a smoldering, charred skeleton behind.
The entire camp was deathly quiet. Not a soul dared speak. He was thankful for the idiot that chose to gracefully offer itself like that, he knew there was only one league folk like these understood, violence!
Artorius stood there, his expression cold, his eyes as fierce as ever. "Any more questions?" he asked, his voice soft yet carrying an undeniable power. The threat was clear. The stage was his. No one spoke.
"Good," he said, turning to his side where chests filled with scales glittering with crystalline edges carried in by his dragons. "Now, as for what I can offer…" The chests were set down, he tipped them over letting the scales spill over revealing the rich hoard inside each scale sparkling in the light of the campfires. "This is the reward of loyalty. These are for those who join me and prove themselves worthy."
The mercenaries exchanged glances, their hunger for wealth and power growing evident as they took in the treasure before them. It was enough to tempt even the most hardened of them. One by one, the gathered warriors began to shuffle forward, eager to pledge their loyalty and prove themselves worthy of the hoard.
-
The mercenary leaders were already gathered in front of him, each one sizing him up, whether out of respect or suspicion. Each one was a force unto themselves, hardened by countless battles and led by dragons of varying might and skill.
Artorius, however, made no move to speak just yet. He simply stood tall and let the moment stretch, allowing the weight of his reputation to settle over them.
He met each leader with cold eyes, sizing them up, measuring the threat they posed and the benefits they brought. They were no mere pawns, but will be the bulwark of his forces. Artorius knew that he would need their full support if he was to march into the lands of the White Lady and beyond.
Their eyes were as varied as their backgrounds, some were hardened veterans, others brash youngbloods, and still, some were old enough to have seen more battles than they cared to admit.
"I did not gather you here to serve as footnotes in some forgotten war," he began, his gaze flicking from one leader to the next, as if each of them were pieces in a grander game. "No, you are not tools to be wielded and discarded. You are the architects of a new dawn. I have great ambitions and I want each and every single one of you to be part of it."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling in. Artorius could feel the tension crackle in the air, a mixture of curiosity, uncertainty, and the sharp thrill of ambition.
"You've fought for lands, for scales, for power. Some of you for vengeance, others for glory," he said. "But in this war, in the conflict that I'm about to lead, the stakes will be higher than any of you have ever known. I want to carve our names into the annals of history, and make our legacy be immortalized."
Artorius surveyed the room one last time, his gaze piercing, his expression unwavering.
"So, I ask you now," he said, voice rising with a challenge. "Who among you will stand with me? Who will bend their will to the making of history? The path ahead will be brutal, unforgiving, and long. But those who stand with me will see their names etched in the stars. They will be remembered as the ones who tore down the old world and forged a new one in its place."
He paused, the challenge hanging in the air, daring anyone to speak out, to question his words, or to offer anything less than their full allegiance. Ouroboros who was on his shoulder shook his head and muttered. "People with your oratory skills should just be put to death! You are a danger to society."
He was right, the fire he lit in their eyes was ablaze, Artorius knew he had them. In total there were 8 bands that came to join him now making it 7 due to the fact the dragon he set afire was one of the mercenary band leaders. Those sellswords were quietly taken away by his soldiers who gave them the option of ending up like their old leader or joining them. All of them were eager not to end up like old boss so accepted.
Of the seven remaining mercenary bands three stood out to him, the first of them to step forward was Durnoth, a champion-blooded Iron Dragon. He was massive nearly twice the size of any ordinary dragonkin, his iron-colored scales gleaming like a suit of armor. His eyes, cold and unfeeling, watched Artorius with a mix of respect and caution.
"I am Durnoth," he said, his voice like the grinding of stone. "Leader of the Ironclad, a band of heavy infantry and brutal combatants. We stand at the front lines, where the blood flows thick."
Artorius nodded. "Your strength will be an asset." He gestured toward the chest of scales behind him. "Prove yourself, and the rewards will be yours."
Durnoth gave a small, approving grunt, his gaze never leaving Artorius. "We fight with the strength of mountains."
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/43628690136658460/
The second group that drew his attention that came up was Vareth, the leader of the Silent Fang. A sleek, shadowy Poison Dragon with shimmering green scales, Vareth exuded an air of danger that was almost palpable. His eyes gleamed with a sharp, intelligent light, and his very presence seemed to chill the air around him.
"I am Vareth," he said softly, his voice like the whisper of a snake in the grass. "We are the Silent Fang, a band of assassins and scouts. Our strength lies in stealth, precision, and poison."
Artorius regarded him carefully, then nodded. "You will serve me well, Vareth. The shadows are a weapon I need."
Vareth gave a slight bow, his lips curling into a dangerous smile. "We strike when the enemy least expects it."
Image:https://www.pinterest.com/pin/160651911703033763/
The third was Gryssira, the leader of The Sky's Wrath. A champion-blooded Wind Dragon, she was a breathtaking sight her scales shimmered like the sky at dusk, and her eyes held the cold, calculating look of a predator. A massive bow was strapped to her back, and her followers were known for their deadly ranged combat.
"I am Gryssira," she said, her voice carrying the weight of authority. "We are The Sky's Wrath, draconic archers and spearmen. We command the skies and strike from above."
Artorius eyed her critically, then smiled darkly. "The skies are mine to command, Gryssira."
Gryssira inclined her head. "And I will bring down the heavens upon our enemies."
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/77898268550080803/
These 3 bands made up the bulk of the forces gathered here as each champion commanded over 30 dragons. Looking at each of them in turn, he already had a [lan in mind, they would be leading his forces.
Next came the smaller bands which were led by elite dragons. The Flame Fury had been Zharoth's band, but with his death, the second-in-command, a Fire Dragon by the name of Varnok, had risen to lead the group.
Varnok was a dragon of tremendous power, his body covered in dark red scales that pulsed like molten lava. His eyes burned with a hunger for vengeance, but there was also a spark of respect for Artorius's strength, having witnessed the death of his former leader firsthand. "I've been given the flame now," Varnok growled, his voice carrying the weight of his lineage. "And I will see it spread."
Next, Artorius turned his gaze toward Tylan, the leader of the Wildclaw, a group of Wood Dragons who were known for their affinity with nature. They were deadly marksmen who excelled in guerrilla tactics, blending seamlessly into forests and jungles, their arrows striking from the shadows.
Karnak, the brutal leader of the Blood Raiders, was next. A Blood Dragonkin, his scales were as deep crimson as the blood he spilled. His body was an intimidating mass of muscle, and his eyes burned with an insatiable thirst for battle. His followers, berserkers, every one of them thrived on chaos and destruction.
Elyza, the leader of the Nightstalkers, was the next to approach. Her dark scales shimmered like the night itself, and her eyes glowed with a silver light that could pierce the darkest shadow. A Gloom Dragon, she specialized in stealth, sabotage, and assassination. Her followers, a small group of silent scouts, were just as dangerous in the dark as she was.
Finally, Baroth the Remnant Dragon of the Deathcrashers stepped forward. A hulking, battle-worn dragon with body parts of him were made of old, enchanted stone. Baroth was the master of artillery and explosive charges, the one who would shatter the enemy's defenses with devastating power.
-
More Details!
The Ironclad – Led by Durnoth, the Great Ax
Leader's Species: Champion-blooded Iron DragonFollowers: 38 Heavy InfantryDescription: The Ironclad are a brutal, no-nonsense force of heavy infantry and close-quarter combat. Durnoth is a massive dragon with jagged iron scales, and his weapon of choice is a massive battle ax, which he wields with terrifying efficiency. His followers are hardened warriors who specialize in heavy infantry tactics.
The Silent Fang – Led by Vareth, the Silent Stalker
Leader's Species: Champion-blooded Poison DragonFollowers: 31 ScoutsDescription: The Silent Fang is a band of assassins and scouts, relying on stealth, poison, and precision strikes. Vareth, a sleek, shadowy dragon with shimmering green scales, is known for his cunning and deadly efficiency. His band consists of highly trained scouts and poisoners, capable of moving unseen and striking with deadly accuracy.
The Sky's Wrath – Led by Gryssira, the Sky-Breaker
Leader's Species: Champion-blooded Wind DragonFollowers: 36 BowmenDescription: A band of draconic archers and spearmen known for their lightning-fast strikes and aerial superiority. Gryssira commands the skies. Her followers are renowned for their ability to strike from above and rain death upon their enemies from a distance.
-
The Flame fury – Led by Zharoth, the Flame Wrought
Leader's Species: Elite Fire Dragon(Slain)Followers: 13 light infantryDescription: A ruthless band of fiery warriors who specialize in setting the battlefield ablaze.
Wildclaw – Led by Tylan, the Verdant Beast
Leader's Species: Elite Wood DragonFollowers: 13 rangersDescription: A band of ranged warriors who specialize in fighting in forests and jungles
Blood Raiders - Led by Karnak, the Blood Reaver
Leader's Species: Elite Blood Dragonkin Followers: 15 BerserkersDescription: The BloodRaiders are fierce, bloodthirsty warriors who specialize in close-quarter combat. Their dragon leader has beast-like features and an insatiable thirst for battle, leading a band of berserkers into a frenzy when they charge into combat. The raiders excel at flanking and overwhelming their enemies with brutal attacks.
Nightstalkers – Led by Elyza, the Moonlit Blade
Leader's Species: Gloom Dragon, stealthy and agileFollowers: 11 scout Description: A highly secretive and silent group. Elyza, with her obsidian-black scales and glowing silver eyes, is a master of both stealth and assassination. The Nightstalkers deal with sabotage, espionage, and surprise strikes in the dark.
Deathcrashers – Led by Baroth, the Shatterer
Leader's Species: Elite remnant DragonFollowers: 10 artilleryDescription: heavy-hitting unit that specializes in using massive explosive charges to break through enemy defenses.
-
The command tower was filled with the hum of anticipation as Artorius stood before the gathered leaders of his newly formed army. Among them were also his sergents, the black dread and even the blacksmith.
His eyes burned with a sharp, cold fire as he prepared to issue the first set of orders. His forces were sizable now comprising both his own dragons and the mercenaries now but they were far from unified. There was still much to be done, and Artorius knew that the true test would be how they fought together once the fires of war ignited.
He addressed them all, his voice resonating with the weight of the authority he had earned. "Listen well, all of you," Artorius began, his gaze sweeping across the room, settling on each of the band leaders.
"I've gathered you here to forge an army that will not just defeat its enemies, but crush them beneath the weight of our will. Each of you is now bound by a common purpose, but that purpose is nothing without cohesion. So hear this: each of you has a role to play. Play it well, or be swept aside by the forces of those who do."
He swept his hand down below where their army gathered. "We will be split in three ways: the hammer, the teeth, and the eyes. Infantry, ranged, scouts"
Artorius turned to Durnoth, the Great Ax, the leader of the Ironclad, his voice cold but resolute. "Durnoth, you will command the bulk of our army, the infantry. You will be the backbone of this force, and I will see them equipped for the hell they are about to walk into. The battlefield will tremble beneath the weight of your steps."
Durnoth stood tall, his iron-clad body a formidable presence even in the midst of so many other dragons. His battle ax, still bloodstained from past victories, hung easily at his side, a reminder of the slaughter he had wrought. He bowed his head respectfully, his voice deep and unwavering. "I shall see it done, my lord!"
"I know you will, Tzharun here will be your second in command," he added to offset the control he was giving his new hand with someone loyal. "I know most of our infantry wield a variety of weapons from spears to swords and shields, but no matter, right now we will focus on one thing and one thing alone for our infantry getting them all fully armored up and used to it."
"The armors are coming along well, I should have them all prepared soon, the mountain tyrant natural body armor will fully get your forces armored up," Hewegar commented.
Artorius then turned to Gryssira, the Sky-Breaker, the leader of the Sky's Wrath. She stood with a quiet intensity, her wings folded neatly at her sides as her cold, blue eyes met Artorius's.
"Gryssira, your forces will handle the ranged assault. You command the skies. Your archers will make the first strike before our enemy even knows what's coming. Rain death from above and keep them on their toes."
Gryssira nodded, her silver-scaled wings fluttering slightly as she gave a sharp salute. "I will ensure they are ready. We strike when you command, Artorius. The wind will be our ally."
Artorius glanced at Sereneth waiting patiently for his instructions. Sereneth was a sharp-eyed strategist, her calm demeanor belying her true nature as a calculating force on the battlefield and she was one of his first followers so he trusted her.
"Sereneth, you will be Gryssira's second. Your ability to read the battlefield and adapt on the fly will make all the difference. You're responsible for ensuring that their archers don't get bogged down in close combat. Keep them mobile, keep them lethal."
Artorius's gaze shifted to Vareth, the Silent Stalker, his sleek green scales blending into the shadows like a wraith. The Silent Fang was a band of assassins and scouts, and Vareth's reputation was one of deadly efficiency. His role would be crucial in gathering intelligence and sowing confusion among the enemy ranks.
"Vareth, your force will be the first to move. You and your band will scout the terrains and enemy movements, locate their weaknesses, and hit them before they can react. If we are to take their stronghold, we must know where they are vulnerable."
Artorius's gaze then shifted to Velkra, the wyvern who first followed him in rebelling, this was a circumstance but he needed someone trusted especially for this cloak and dagger role. "Velkra you will be second in command, I trust you to assist in the reconnaissance efforts, and should the need arise, you'll be the hammer that delivers the fatal blow."
Artorius stood before the map table, lance planted in the ground like a staff. "We have our numbers, we stand at 255 warriors, Durnoth like I said you will command the infantry which I will total to be 130. At the front I will have the spearmen along with shields. Then swordsmen at the side who will be more mobile and your axes for breaking armor and creating gaps.
Gryssira you will command in total 80 archers who will be able to take to the skies. It will mostly be longbows, but I will also let you have our cannon along with any heavy bolts and prepare smoke screens and flame bombs for you.
Finally Vareth you will command 35 scouts that will be our recon and light skirmishers."
"Yes, my lord," they all intoned as he gave his orders.
"Good now let's get to training!"
-
Chapter 20 Recap!
Total Army: 255 soldiers!
1 Noble, 1 Elder, 3 Champions, the rest elites and regulars!