Heart of Winter

The reflection of sun on snow and ice is nearly enough to sear eyes from skull, but whether by virtue of his unique magic or just a stroke of luck, Reòthadh's eyes pick out a minute detail that the rest of the party misses: the slight tumbling of snow on the surrounding hills. Not from wind, but as though the earth below is trembling.

Then, beneath the howling of the wind, the sorcerer hears a sound he knows well - the cracking of ice.

Icasaracht is not in the air or on the ground. She is under it.

Ichasaracht shudders under Reòthadh's impact, and the mighty wyrm immediately bucks to throw the giant sorcerer off. Reòthadh's grip is sure, however, and Elisia's sung curse weakens the dragon's attempts. The sea elf lands nearby on torn ice, hands gesturing as she begins another spell.

"TEMPUS!!!" Aihonen descends next, his sword a reflecting more light than would seem possible beneath the cloud of snow than might seem possible. He strikes a heavy blow against the side of the dragon's head as he descends, the blade of dragonslaying doing its deadly work as Aihonen puts the full weight of his paladin might behind the blow. Icasaracht's hiss sounds like a great geyser as she attempts to shift her bulk away from that nasty weapon and it's wielder, but Reòthadh's iron hold keeps her in place. "Keep her here, dwarf! Everyone, attack!"

Several more of the party descend to the ground, including a heavyset barbarian by the name of Hjollsted, of the Tribe of the Elk. The burly shaman steps forward with ancient magic on his lips and summons ghostly flames that try to envelope Icasaracht - but somehow she rebuffs the spell.

Nym appears suddenly from nowhere, tucking something into a belt pouch - doubtless replacing some magical trinket he used to avoid the dragon thus far - and drives his rapier home twice into the dragon's hindquarters. Though the blade seems too incredibly thin to harm this behemoth of a foe, the dragon shudders in pain.

Icasaracht has not lived long enough to grow so large without facing long centuries of threats, however. She opens her enormous maw wide and whips her head about, unleashing her most devastating weapon. Icicles sharp enough to pierce plate armor, and air cold enough to shatter bone pour between her jaws.

Elisia throws up her hands and completes her spell just as the killing frost falls over the heroes. Her singing voice is lost in the roar of wind, and the magical healing her spell provides feels like a pebble tossed into a raging flood - but it is enough to keep some of the party on their feet. When Icasaracht's breath ends, Elisia stands only with the help of Hjollsted's hand around her. Pieces of Aihonen's fabulous armor lie scattered about, and his exposed skin will certainly bear scars from frostbite, but he raises his sword with determination.

When Icasaracht sees so many of her enemies still standing after her breath, her reptilian eyes widen in fear. The sky is her refuge against these small, insufferable creatures, but there is one large obstacle keeping her from that... Her tail sweeps around to crack against Reòthadh's back. The blow hardly injures the tough dwarf, but it is barely enough to disrupt his concentration (After resistance Reo takes 8 bludgeoning).

Reòthadh begins to shrink, and loses his hold on the great wyrm.

Immediately Icasaracht spins about, giving a powerful flap of her wings to knock away her closest foes. Aihonen is thrown aside with a crunch of ice, and Reòthadh falls to his back beneath the dragon (Reo takes 5 bludgeoning). Roaring with victory, she flaps her wings again and starts to rise into the sky.

Gasping for breath, Aihonen cries out as best he can. "No! Reòthadh, you must keep her grounded! Grab her!"

Elisia runs for Aihonen, concerned hands reaching for his face, but he shakes her off. "No, help Reòthadh!" With tears freezing upon her cheeks, the sea elf graces the dwarf sorcerer with another inspiring refrain.