The Minotaur squares his shoulders in the torch glare, then hurls his axes aside. Golden light burns in his eyes as he turns on Talimaryl, one slow, forced step at a time.
The Minotaur
You do not own this hall, dragon.
His voice comes wrong, layered with the castle's cold will. The words echo off the stone, and the golden veins in the floor answer with a faint pulse.
Talimaryl
A useful beast, and now a noisy one. Step aside, before I break the spell and the bone beneath it.
The dragon's wings tense, then still. For the first time, surprise cuts across his predatory calm. Around Dax, the company tightens, unsure whether the Minotaur is ally, weapon, or warning.
Dax
The castle is speaking through him.
The Minotaur lifts his chin toward the dragon, jaw clenched against the force driving him.
The Minotaur
Then hear it, Talimaryl. The halls remember. The lock bites back.
“I strike at Talimaryl with my sword”
SUCCESS (Superb Melee Weapons, rolled +0)
Dax lunges from the left and drives his sword across Talimaryl's guard, steel flashing through torchglare.
The blade bites. Talimaryl recoils with a hiss, wings snapping wide as golden sparks spit from the cut.
Talimaryl
Bold. Costly, too.
The dragon twists back, one claw pressed to the wound, while the floor's gold veins surge brighter under the blow.
The Minotaur
The hall takes the strike with him.
Heilyn
The channel is feeding on the impact.
Narbo braces in the rear, tattoos flaring, as the corridor shudders and the torches spit higher.
The Exiled Prince
Now. Keep him bleeding.
“Robin fires and furry of arrows. They zing past my head. Talimaryl breathes golden fire”
SUCCESS (Superb Melee Weapons, rolled -1)
Robin’s arrows whip in from the side, a hard silver curtain that forces Talimaryl to twist behind his raised wing. Dax uses the opening, driving in with shield first and blade ready.
Steel bites twice along the dragon’s flank. Golden sparks spray across the broken floor, and the veins underfoot answer with a violent pulse.
Talimaryl
You cut at a lock, knight.
Talimaryl inhales, chest swelling with furnace light. The Minotaur stiffens at the blast of heat, and the hall itself seems to hold its breath.
Golden fire floods out in a roaring sheet, but Dax’s press has already driven the dragon sideways, off balance and burning at the wound. The fire scorches the air above his shoulder instead of breaking his line.
The Exiled Prince
There, keep him moving!
Heilyn
The breach is loosening under the strain.
Narbo surges a step forward through the shaking dust, tattoos blazing, while the Minotaur stands rigid with that strange, cold focus. Talimaryl’s wing buckles, and the dragon is left snarling in Dax’s reach.