The following day, the men of Frontier Fortress peered anxiously over their green shields. That blasted goblin army was yelling and singing all night down in Kaylor Pass, and now complete silence? Those foul beasts are up to something.

King Quaid was contemplating sending out a scouting patrol, to see what the goblins were up to, when he saw the dragons. There were two of the beasts, large and brown, circling high above the fortress.

One of the dragons looked to be twice the size of the other. The smaller of the two dragons spiraled down towards the North Gate, landing about twenty feet in front of it, just outside of the walls.

The beast, glaring at the men perched on the wall platforms with its yellow eyes, lowered its head and let out a deafening roar. The brown dragon then began stomping and strutting about, slapping its tail on the ground.

The men stared at the beast, having never seen a dragon before, let alone one doing some type of aggressive ritual dance. Nobody moved for several moments, while the creature strutted back and forth, growling and baring its long fangs at the men.

The brown dragon was about twenty feet long, covered with oval shaped flat brown scales of various shades, and had a ten-foot tail that ended in a spiked ball about the size of a man’s head. The creature had a large wingspan, at least as wide as it was long.

The lower half of the wings had a webbed-like appearance, while the upper half was thicker and fleshy, with bone spikes jutting out at various junctures at the top of the wings. It had four very muscular short legs with bony claws at the base. The brown dragon was one impressively frightening looking animal.

The smaller dragon was a twenty-six-year-old youngling named Secrium the Brown. He was not incredibly bright, being more of an instinctual creature, as was the way with brown dragons. What he lacked in intelligence, Secrium more than made up for in aggression.

Once he finished his ritual battle dance, something that no other dragon species other than the browns did, Secrium the youngling looked at the men on the nearest wall platform and almost appeared to be smiling as he launched into the air above them.

The dragon opened his large mouth and made a hissing sound that spit out a cloud of two-to-three-inch needles at the men. The needles, made of similar material to that of the dragon’s protective scales, devastated the eight crossbowmen on the platform.

The deadly darts ripped through their chainmail armor and into their flesh. All of them were knocked from the platform, dead before they hit the ground inside the fortress.

The archers and crossbowmen, positioned on the adjacent platforms, fired at the dragon when it flew by. The beast swung its spiked tail, bashing in an archer’s head, while it flew along the outer wall. The arrows and bolts seemed unable to penetrate the beast’s hard scales.

A ballista on the North Tower fired at the brown dragon when he passed overhead. The arrow struck the creature in his hind flank, imbedding itself about a foot deep, leaving three feet of the shaft sticking out.

Secrium the Brown let out a loud screech and swung around, dropping low towards the North Tower, sending men scattering as he crushed an unlucky few with his spiked tail. 

When the brown dragon passed by the North Tower, two archers jumped out from hiding to fire at it, only to be torn from the tower by two mighty claws. The two men never knew what hit them.

Nobody had been paying attention to the larger second dragon, who promptly bit the two men in half with one bite. The big brown dragon casually tossed the broken corpses away, spiking them on the top of the pointed log wall below.

The new attacker was a forty-foot long oldling named Ladicrum the Brown. He was a hundred and thirty-three years old, making him an oddity for his kind. The aggressive nature of the breed of brown dragons, along with their lack of intelligence, allowed very few of them to reach enough years to become an oldling.

Ladicrum was an exception, as he was very intelligent. He flew off immediately after his attack, steering well clear of the ballista, and suffered no wounds.

King Quaid strung an arrow on the mighty Bow of Togra. When he was a young man, he had found the weapon in the ruins of an abandoned temple on an island that bore the same name.

The bow clearly had magical properties, because it could send arrows twice as far as a normal longbow, with twice the accuracy. And it had punch! The Bow of Togra launched arrows with such force that they often split shields and could penetrate most armor.

Secrium the youngling came around for another sweep, knocking men to and fro. When the smaller brown dragon flew past the South Tower, King Quaid let one fly from his magic bow.

The arrow thumped the younger dragon hard, penetrating a scale on the creature’s underbelly, wounding it. This brought a cheer from the defenders of Frontier Fortress. 

Ladicrum the oldling saw this and used the opportunity to swoop down again, this time hissing a large burst of needles from his mouth at the largest platform on the west wall.

None on the platform survived the deadly blast. Ladicrum the Brown flew out of the men’s range, having completed another successful surprise attack. Once again, the oldling flew away without injury.

The two brown dragons continued to attack the walls of Frontier Fortress, at various times throughout the remainder of the day, in much the same manner. The youngling flew about heedlessly, wreaking havoc and death, although it received many wounds. The oldling continued to swoop in at unexpected times, causing the casualty rate to climb even higher.

During these attacks Lord Prince Jayden commanded the ballista crew quite well, scoring several hits on the smaller dragon, causing the price to slap his men on the back with congratulations each time.

“Send him another gift!” the young prince shouted as his crew left their mark on the youngling, leaving five of their arrows sticking out of the beast, as well as putting two fist size holes in the webbing of the brown dragon’s left wing where the ballista arrows had passed completely through.

The younger brown also had a dozen smaller arrows sticking out of his underbelly, where King Quaid had scored hits, as well as a few of the longbow archers that had gotten lucky.

Ladicrum however, was hardly injured. The smarter dragon had used his younger, less intelligent counterpart as a distraction, allowing him to choose his moments to pounce.

While the oldling had killed less men, he had only been hit twice. King Quaid had struck him with an arrow in the tail, drawing a trickle of blood, and a warrior had managed to stab him in the neck, just before he had been swallowed whole. Both wounds were minor.

Throughout the entire battle, Ladicrum the Brown had not once come within range of the ballista. The dragon had also done a good job of avoiding King Quaid’s magic bow. He was very smart indeed.

Later that night, after the brown dragons had withdrawn, King Quaid held council with his advisors in Hogarth Hall. Most of the lords, including Prince Jayden, were present.

The broad-shouldered, older warrior Grelly, stood in the shadows behind the prince. After helping to bring Lord Prince Benhurst back, he had joined the ballista crew, and always stayed near Jayden.

Grelly felt that he had failed in saving Benhurst, and he wasn’t going to let his king lose another son. There was also a very familiar wizard sitting at the table.

“Blessings on you and your house,” King Cobborath said, grasping King Quaid at the wrist.

“And on you and yours,” King Quaid responded in the traditional manner.

“From the looks of things, you have had some unwanted guests,” Cobborath began, already knowing what had occurred.

“Two mighty brown dragons attacked us today. They devastated my first line of crossbowmen and archers,” King Quaid replied in a dismal tone.

“They killed nearly everybody that had been on the outer wall! Perhaps we could deal with one such creature, but two? They will surely destroy us. We have barely enough archers to man the outer wall tomorrow,” Lord Prince Jayden spoke up, his usually jovial voice somber.

“I think these may help.” The red/blue wizard extended a thin and bony, blue tinted hand, and laid two arrows on the table in front of King Quaid.

They were completely black and had an ancient dialect of dwarven written in glowing blue letters all over the shaft. The feathers also glowed blue, as did the arrowhead.

“Thank you, but what can two arrows do against monsters such as these?” King Quaid questioned, eyeing the magical arrows skeptically.

“They are weapons that were made in the Dwarven Mountain Kingdom, many centuries before our time. The heads of these arrows were forged in the fire pits deep in the heart of Mount Esha. At that time, a hundred were made. To my knowledge, these are the only two that still exist, as all of the others were used in long forgotten wars. This type of magic has long since been forgotten.” Cobborath paused, somewhat dramatically, before continuing, “If you penetrate the dragon’s scales with one of these arrows, you’ll bring him down.”

“Bring him down?” King Quaid asked, looking at the two magical arrows with more respect, after hearing the wizard’s words.

“He’ll not be able to fly,” the wizard answered.

“Well, that’d even things up a bit!” King Quaid said, picking up the two arrows and inspecting them closely.

“Even grounded, they’ll still be quite dangerous,” Lord Cray, commander of the Frontier Fortress Horse Warriors spoke.

“Quite right horse warrior,” King Cobborath replied. “That’s why you’ll need a plan. Once you bring one of them down, you’ll need to kill it quickly. The arrows are very old, and I’m unsure of how long the dragon will be flightless.”

“Well, any suggestions?” King Quaid said, looking about the room.

“Yes father, I know what we should do,” Lord Prince Jayden spoke up, an eager excitement returning to the voice of Quaid’s youngest son.

The men continued to speak deep into the night, while the young prince laid out his plan. The men agreed that it was a good one and went off to make preparations, before the sun rose. Soon, only the two kings remained.

“I want to thank you King Cobborath. Most of our fellow kings don’t trust you, but you’ve come through and helped us. I owe you my gratitude. You know that you’re always welcome here.”, King Quaid broke the silence.

"Quaid the Hunter,” the wizard said, using a name that Quaid had not been called since before he was made king. “I consider you a friend. I’ve always respected your abilities. You’ve slain most creatures that walk this Glen, and you’re the most fearless man that I’ve ever met, but do not mistakenly thank me. Your days are nearing an end.”

The wizard rubbed his red hand through his two-toned hair, looking old and tired, and then said, “The Frontier Fortress at Kaylor will fall. Goblins will sit in the hallowed Halls of Hogarth. As we speak, their seven armies are marching toward the fall of man in Hogarth Hills!”

“I don’t understand. You gave me two arrows to kill two dragons. Why bother if there’s no hope for us?” King Quaid asked, now wary of the wizard.

“High King Tronin needs time. Even now he raises an army, as does King Heath of the Two Towers, and myself. This war’ll be decided in the Lower Glen, at the last three strongholds of men. You must make sure those magic arrows penetrate the dragon’s scales so you can bring them down and kill them. That’ll be two less dragons for Tronin to deal with. Besides, I only gave you two arrows and there are three dragons here,” the red/blue wizard finished speaking, and with a bright orange flash, was gone.

King Quaid stood staring at the spot where the odd wizard had been standing, just a moment before. Three dragons? Well, regardless, he intended to prove the wizard wrong and would kill however many dragons need be to defend his home and his sacred hall. Frontier Fortress would hold, as long as he held the mighty Bow of Togra in his hands.

King Quaid strode confidently from Hogarth Hall, knowing that it was going to be a good day, his long hair braid swinging back and forth. It was time to kill a dragon. King Quaid’s good spirits proved that the wizard was right about one thing. The man had no fear.