Wonderful 35.

The Principality Of Maladimbáh...

"Here take the reins" says lord Farque in a loud voice "Why?" shouts Mira Reinholt the mage over the sound of the blustering wind between the mountain peaks "I can't fly it!" adds the once powerful mage.
"Fine, you fight the dragon instead" dryly says the undead warlord in a loud voice, though he says it elven "I'll take the reins" quickly says the Vexilian mage in exile in the same language who almost snatches the reins of the wyvern out of the gauntleted hands of the heavily armoured deathlord, who dryly murmurs "I knew you'd see it my way".
The lord and ruler of the lands Farque after he looks back behind them to the north, calls out a command to the wyvern in the language that the mage Reinholt doesn't understand, the large winged creature starts to drop in altitude as they continue heading to the southwest.
"You might want to get the fuck off soon" says the lord of the death realm who is continuing to speak in the elven language "Eh?" says the spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who then adds in the elven language "What the hell for?" as he hopes to get as much distance between himself and the dragon, which is bound to attack them.
"Because these stupid things" says lord Farque, who to the people of his lands is also known as Draugadrottin, gestures at the wyvern as he says this, then he adds "Instantly obey what's said to them in the language of the dragons, it's what i use to command them".
"Fuck" mutters Mira Reinholt, who then adds "Now you tell me?!" the undead warlord stands up in the saddle, then steps up onto the saddle itself, and says "It'll obey the dragon as much as it does me" the swordmaster Reinholt winces, then he flattens himself down when the lord and ruler of the lands Farque tells him "Get the fuck down".
The once powerful mage hears the heavily armoured deathlord call out another command to the wyvern, and the mage Reinholt feels it increase it's speed as it goes lower and lower in the mid morning sky. Then the spellcaster from the city-state of Vexil feels the undead warlord step over him, and Mira Reinholt realises the undead warlord is standing upright on the back of the dragon.
With reins in hand, feeling utterly useless, the spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, sits back up, and looks quickly back behind him.
The swordmaster Reinholt sees the lord of the death realm slightly pause as he's in a half crouch, then suddenly he's up and he runs along the back of the wyvern, perfectly balanced as the large winged creature is flying as fast as it can, well in excess of a hundred and fifty knots as Mira Reinholt holds on for dear life as it feels like his stomach wants to come up and out of his throat.
The exiled Vexilian mage watches as lord Farque does a running leap off the back of the wyvern, just before the base of it's tail. The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster winces, and murmurs "Fuck me" as at the same time he sees the familiar sight of sky rift, a massive one, appear just behind the wyvern.
The rift forms, and out of it comes a dragon, Mira Reinholt sees the undead warlord in mid air, nearly disappear into a blur of motion as he leaps directly at the maw of  the dragon that has suddenly appeared.
Then the swordmaster Reinholt looks forward and hangs on as tight as he can, muttering "By the shape of fire" as it feels like his guts are trying to escape up through his throat, as the wyvern lurches to one side, as it hears the final shouted command given to it by lord Farque.
Mira Reinholt who is under no illusion that the wyvern can possibly flee from a dragon, that has a wingspan of nearly three hundred feet, more than six times than that of the wyvern.
Flinches as he hears a loud roar from the dragon, he quickly looks back as hears something else, and he sees a massive jet of fire, at least a hundred and eighty feet in length, shooting up into clear summer's sky.
The swordmaster Reinholt looks forward again and he sees that the wyvern is coming down low into a valley at the base of a couple of mountains, rapidly slowing as it does so.
Fuck me, i might have to jump off, the Vexilian mage in exile thinks to himself, and that's exactly what he does, as he hears a loud indignant roar of a dragon, followed by one that's obviously surprise and pain, quite a bit behind the fleeing wyvern.
With the wyvern coming to almost a sudden stop, with wings flapping backwards, and it's tail skimming across a large patch of grassy ground, the mage Reinholt sees his opportunity, and jumps out of the saddle, hitting earth with a thud, as he falls a dozen feet to the ground.
The highly skilled swordmaster rolls to a stop, and gets up as quickly as he can. And finds that he jumped at the right time, for the wyvern who is gaining in altitude again, is circling around, looking like it's going back the way it came from, after it hears a loud shout in the dragon language.
Mira Reinholt runs towards a few trees, looking up as he does so, he spots the massive form of the dragon closer to one of the nearby mountains, it's vigorously shaking it's head from side to side, as it more or less heads in this direction.
The swordmaster Reinholt runs between a pair of trees, and jumps, he goes down a drop of about six feet, and he stumbles to a stop, below him, to the south, is a valley, the once powerful mage barely looks at it, as he's already turned around, and scrambling up the slight incline he just jumped down.
The exiled Vexilian mage pops his head up over the fairly flat ground between two trees, then he winces and mutters "Fuck me" as he sees what's going on above in the sky.
The mage Reinholt sees the much smaller wyvern approaching the massive black dragon at speed, then it suddenly veers away with a squawk, and takes off as fast as it can, after the dragon's head goes sharply to one side, and it lets out an ear shattering roar, that's a mix of anger and pain.
The highly skilled swordmaster quickly looks at the two nearby peaks, checking to see if the dragon's roars don't set of an avalanche from the snow and ice towards the top of the mountains.
"Come on Mira, what the fuck are you doing?" the once powerful mage mutters to himself, who gets out his newly acquired brass, cylindrical eyepiece, and looks through that. It's difficult for him to keep up with what's happening, but after he sees a massive jet of flame shoot from the mouth of the dragon, he spots lord Farque upon it's snout, where he whacks the dragon with his heavy mace.
There's a roar of anger from the dragon, who Mira Reinholt figures the massive naturally magical creature has never experienced pain before in it's life, until now, when it had the unfortunate chance to encounter the undead warlord.
The swordmaster from the city-state of Vexil in the Southlands, who has known a couple of dragons in his life, one of whom was one of his instructors at the mage collage of Vexil. Takes the eyepiece away from his face, and mutters "Shit" as he sees the dragon is dropping down out of the sky, flying without flapping it's massive wings moving, as the giant drakes tend to do, as it heads in this direction.
Putting the leather wrapped cylindrical eyepiece away, the mage Reinholt ducks back down beneath the flat ground, then he murmurs "I need a piss" as he suddenly feels the need to take a leak, the once powerful mage quietly chuckles, then dryly murmurs "I knew i shouldn't of drunk that water before we took off".
The spellcaster who is also a highly skilled swordmaster, who feels absolutely helpless without his magic at the moment, not that he could be a lot of help anyway, as dragons are immune to magic, and he would only be able to attack it, with the indirect, or the effects of magic, and then only to deplete it's powerful wards.
Knows that the deathlord of Farque has no such restraints, for he is also immune to magic, and only has to worry about the physical attacks of the massive drake.
The Vexilian mage in exile knows that the undead warlord won't even care about that, for Mira Reinholt has seen him attack a Greater Dragon, one of the creators of the world of Volunell by himself, which he killed.
So an ordinary dragon, a couple of which the lord and ruler of the lands Farque has killed in the twelve years or so that the swordmaster Reinholt has known him, he couldn't care less about.
The mage Reinholt flinches as hears, and feels a loud thud through the ground, he quickly pops his head up, and sees the dragon on the grassy area between the two slopes, where the once powerful mage jumped from the wyvern which has well and truly fled, and can't be seen anywhere nearby.
"Good luck with that" dryly murmurs Mira Reinholt as a giant ball of lightning appears in the right front claw of the dragon, which it flings away out from it, the swordmaster Reinholt spots lord Farque on the ground, running at the dragon, which appears to have a damaged left wing.
As the heavily armoured deathlord runs through the more than thirty foot wide ball of lightning, the dragon looks sharply in the direction of Mira Reinholt.
"Fuck" mutters the once powerful mage between clenched teeth, who ducks down, and pushes himself down the slight incline, and he covers his head and flinches. A moment later and a jet of flame passes overheard, barely a dozen feet above the Vexilian mage in exile who is as flat to the ground beneath him as possible. The scorching heat suddenly disappears, as Mira Reinholt hears a roar of anger from the dragon.
The spellcaster who was once the most powerful mage of his generation to be found anywhere in the Southlands, scrambles back up the slight incline to see what's happening.
The swordmaster Reinholt sees that the trees that were just infront of him have been burnt away, and the ground infront of him is scorched black. The exiled Vexilian mage sees and definitely hears, the dragon shout something in it's own language, and lord Farque respond to it in the same language.
"I guess that wasn't a friendly hello" wryly murmurs Mira Reinholt as the black dragon hisses in anger, and a gout of flame shoots from both it's mouth and nostrils. The undead warlord jumps forward through the scorching flames, and punches the maw of the dragon, who roars, as it's head goes back.
The swordmaster Reinholt watches as the lord and ruler of the lands Farque becomes a blur of movement, appearing every so often, where he strikes and hits the massive winged creature, with either his heavy mace, or by punching and kicking the dragon.
The once powerful mage who is pretty sure the jaw of the dragon is damaged after he sees lord Farque appear, back flipping in mid air, connecting with an overhead kick to the underside of the dragon's maw.
Watches as the naturally magical creature struggles to get airborne, as it does, it swipes it's right front claw, on which a number of it's talons are shattered and broken.
It gets in a lucky strike, and hits lord Farque square on when he becomes clearly visible to the eye of the mage Reinholt, who mutters "Fucking hell" as the heavily armoured deathlord comes flying through the air in this direction.
As the dragon with a damaged left wing gets into the air, and it roars in a mix of anger and pain as it struggles to fly down into the valley below, Mira Reinholt turns and runs down to his left, where the lord and rluer of the lands Farque has landed about forty feet away, where he's lying there on the ground, not moving . . . . . .