Wherever she is, it's cold, windy, and desolate. The sun is high overhead, and doesn't seem to be doing much to warm up the frozen ground.

Also, there's a dragon - smaller than her draconic form, scales a bloody red - nearby, sprawling facing away from Ellisaria, tail-tip lashing a bit, posture hunched. The dragon raises her head and starts sniffing.

Awkward. Shifting at this range would certainly be a provocation. And it's a red.

"Hello," she calls.

Dragon cranes her long neck around, shifting a bit to make this easier. She doesn't seem particularly threatened by the suddenly appearing person, more curious.

"Hello!" she says, tail stilling now that she's distracted. "How did you sneak up on me, and why do you only kind of smell human?"

"I am only kind of human. I was eaten by a snake with a mirror for a face."

The dragon turns around more fully, tilting her head. "I haven't heard of one of those, and the Maiar who can change shape easily mostly aren't on this continent anymore, and I haven't heard of being eaten causing teleportation. Are you part something else? - No, you smell more like you're only shaped like a human than being a human."

"Perhaps this will help illuminate the issue." She glances over her shoulder to blink back for distance, and shifts to her natural form.

Her scales are onyx, glinting in the sun. She stretches her wings, which spread wider than the other dragon is long.

She sits up a bit, eyes focused intently on Ellisaria. "Huh! I haven't met a dragon who could change shapes, before, and you do not feel like a Maia."

"One of those I am not. I am Ellisaria, of Azeroth. Tell me, what world is this?"

"Arda. I am Brisingr."

She ducks her head.

"A pleasure to meet you Brisingr. Who leads your flight?"

"The pleasure is mine. And no one's succeeded in uniting the dragons in a long while."

"Hm? Not even a collection of families?"

Shrug. "I suppose there's some clannish tendencies, especially among the weaker dragons, but I don't think it goes beyond one family very often."

"What a strange way to live."

"Not much food, I suppose. Complicates alliances, and most people don't want to risk expanding South."

"What is to the south?"

"Humans, elves, and dwarves, mostly. Technically orcs, but they know to leave dragons alone."

Ellisaria snorts in amusement. "Orcs are as bad as humans when it comes to poking things they shouldn't."

She laughs. "I suppose it's better to say that the stupid ones are very flammable, and they do not often follow up with an army."

"Eventually that comes to the same thing."

She hums. "The other races stick together more. And there's been bad blood between us and them longer than I've been alive - they don't come to these wastelands, but dragons who venture south are usually killed. Though, admittedly, dragons who venture south usually start those fights."

"Why allow yourselves to be contained?"

"I'm probably one of three dragons left who can breathe fire. One of the others is a hermit who claimed an island for herself and refuses to talk to anyone else. One of them - Smaug - " (she says the name with some level of hatred) - "kills any dragons who come onto his territory. Armies aren't very scared of ten foot long wyrmlings breathing little wisps of steam, and the last dragon who tried to unite us was killed by Smaug. Some can use the Song even without fire, but most not on a scale that could challenge even a determined militia."

"We ruled more broadly in the days of Ancalagon the Mighty and Glaurung the First, but that was two ages ago, and even those dragons bowed their heads to their god." She seems disgusted by the concept.

"What." Ellisaria is enraged. The ground shudders in sympathy.

"Everything in our world is fading, and people are letting it."

"Where are the stewards of this world? They clearly need reminding of their duty." Earth cracks and splits beneath her feet, and the rock starts melting.

"The ones who used to claim that title removed themselves from the world an age ago, and even before they did not much concern themselves with these parts."

Ellisaria roars.

She doesn't seem particularly threatened, but she does stay where she is, watching Ellisaria.

"Then if there is no one else, it will be me. I will not see a world be destroyed."

She tilts her head. "It'll be a change, at least."

"One sorely needed." She settles down on her back legs. "I would know more of this world and its history."

She hums. "By the elven count, this year is the two thousandth, nine hundredth, and forty first of the Third Age. I was born in the seven hundredth and seventy first of this same millenium, so most of what I know is second hand. But I like hearing stories, and I've traveled far."

"Some time before the elves began counting years, there were the gods. The greater gods are called the Valar, and the lesser are called the Maiar. They made the world, and then they started fighting - mostly the Vala Melkor and his loyal Maiar against the others. Melkor's enemies won eventually, and they locked him up. I suppose he must have escaped, because he started fighting the peoples of a continent that used to be to the West - Beleriand - right before the start of the First Age, when the sun and moon were put in the sky."

"Melkor made the orcs, the trolls, and the dragons, and many others who don't matter anymore, and he had a great fortress in the north of Beleriand. Glaurung and Ancalagon lived and fought in the First Age, along with many other great dragons of legend. The Valar didn't do much about Melkor for a while - story-tellers disagree on why - until they decided all at once to go to war against him, with the elves they'd been keeping as pets on their continent, farther to the west. They killed most of the great dragons, and defeated Melkor again."

"Stories are pretty sure Melkor's going to come back someday, but no one agrees when or where or how. Most dragons think he'll make a new golden age for us but that's dumb, he'll just tell us what to do and probably get us killed picking fights for dumb reasons. Beleriand sunk during the war, and everyone fled east, unless they were elves and the Valar liked them, in which case they went west. That was the end of the First Age."

"A group of people with mixed elven and human blood ruled the western parts of the world not controlled by the Valar. They were annoyed they weren't immortal like their elven ancestors, and declared war on the Valar. This would've been a really good idea except for how the Valar dropped a mountain on them. The Valar then left the world in a huff. Somebody turned the world from the flat plane into a sphere and made the sun and moon into actual sensible things - they had been giant glowing fruits because the Valar are weird - I'm not sure that part's true, it sounds like poetic license."

"Then the humans and elves left on this continent got into a war with one of Melkor's lieutenants. The elves and humans supposedly won, ending the Second Age and starting the Third, except for how the lieutenant then showed back up a few thousand years later and started trying to recruit dragons to his cause, like a really annoying roach. This mostly didn't work, but some scattered bands of dragons got into a war with the dwarves a few hundred years ago. They won, but then they dispersed with their treasure, which Smaug then killed them for."

"Smaug decided to conquer a dwarven kingdom just before I was born and has been hanging out there ever since, sitting on his pile of treasure and presumably contemplating how much of an asshole he is."

...It's not more of a mess than stamping out the Black Empire was. The aftermath of that was better handled, though, due in no small part to the assistance of the dragonflights.

"The returned lieutenant first," she decides. "I do not like this Smaug either, so I believe I will kill him as well."

Bounce. "I'll help! Though I don't know where the lieutenant is hiding. He's a coward."

"He cannot hide forever."

She grins. Or maybe bares her teeth. It's hard to say.

"That'll be quite exciting."

"I would still suggest confronting Smaug, first - he doesn't move around very often, and it would be annoying if he allied with that roach. And if you want to unite the dragons... Smaug is a symbol, in a way some distant shadow isn't."

"A good point. Where does he make his lair?"

"The Lonely Mountain. It's to the east and south of here - about a hundred miles east, the same south. Just south of the Grey Mountains over there, through the big pass." She gestures to a sharp range rising to their south, surrounded in a hazy grey fog. 

"Not far, then. Good."

Her grin widens. "What all can you do, besides shapeshift?"

"Magic of all sorts. Teleportation, conjuration, evocation, divination. As a member of the black dragonflight, I also have a connection to the earth, and can call forth elementals at need." She taps the ground with a forepaw and a small pile of rocks arise and form into a vaguely humanoid shape, about a foot tall. She prods it with a claw, and it raises two 'fists' to smash down on the ground, creating a small fissure.

"My songs are nowhere near that powerful," she says, a bit sadly. "You're impressive - I can control wind a bit, go without sustenance for a short time, shake the earth, make myself fly faster and higher, and I'm working on targeted lightning when there's a storm - I haven't much tested my ability to see through and cast illusions and control minds, but most fire-breathing dragons are supposed to be able to do that. I can counter-song the handful of other dragons I've fought." She pauses. "I think dragons around a lot of magic do some of that automatically, too, but it's - hard, out here, to have any sort of power."

"Then we shall have to move you to a more hospitable region."

She makes a happy noise. "Gold's also got magic in it - why most dragons hoard the stuff - but it's magic that Melkor put there. It feels like slime. Silver and iron are better."

"I do not gain power from hoards of precious metals."

"Interesting. We might not, noticeably, when ambient magic is high - you never hear of Ancalagon's hoard."

"There is magic enough here for me to call forth elementals."

"I'm unsure if it's the same sort of thing, then, or if high magic places would be notably more powerful for you, too."

"The matter bears testing."

She makes an agreeable noise, tail curling around her feet. "Do you want to try finding more allies among the dragons here, before we take on Smaug? - I'd rather just fight him. He's twice my size, but I haven't heard of him relying extensively on the song, and most dragons are scared of him now anyways."

"Better to negotiate from a position of demonstrated strength."

"You'll be less likely to get dragons who're just interested in snatching some treasure and running that way, too."

"I have no patience for that sort of petty short-sightedness."

"It's generally pretty self destructive in the long term, too. And I don't like people who betray their allies."

"Good."

She flexes her claws and tilts her head. "I want to fight Smaug soon, but possibly we should get used to each other, first."

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know your reaction times, or how all of your magics work, or necessarily what they do, or how hot your fire is, and you don't know any of that about me so much." She grins. "We could play fight, I suppose, or find lesser enemies to practice against."

"Let us practice with each other, first."

She flutters her wings. "Sounds fun."

"I will try not to damage you permanently."

That gets a laugh. "I'll return the favor."

Ellisaria springs into the air, flapping her wings for height.

Brisingr is fairly near the cliff -

She croons something, and rockets forward, dust and small rocks going flying in the gale of her passing. She snaps her wings open once she's over open air, gaining distance before she gains height in a curving arc.

Let's start with some fireballs.

Brisingr twists partially out of the way of the first - more testing how hot it is than fully avoiding it.

When it doesn't feel particularly hot, she starts ignoring the fireballs, instead moving into a circling pattern around Ellisaria, singing. The wind's picking up.

That'd be the wind control. Ellisaria can move and cast, so no reason to make it easy.

She starts maneuvering about, trying to not let Brisingr be able to circle her easily. She also starts hiding chunks of molten rock inside the blasts of fire.

Brisingr gets caught by one of those - not burned and not seeming particularly injured, but it disrupts her flight.

It turns out there's enough loose rubble on this mountainside to be thrown by the wind! For now it's mostly smaller chunks, not finely controlled, but a lot of dust's getting kicked up, and visibility's getting bad.

Brisingr also is incredibly fast for her size - she seems to have a specific snatch of song she uses to zoom in a straight line, but even when not zooming she's fairly swift. Still, dodging the blasts of fire and then just the ones with rock (as she gets a sense for the difference) slows her down.

Ellisaria might notice that Brisingr is usually keeping her belly turned away from the other dragon, arcing so her side and spine are most commonly presented as she manipulates the air.

A vulnerability, perhaps. But aerial combat is clearly not her comparative advantage here.

She lands and begins raising elementals.

Brisingr laughs, though it's hard to hear over the wind.

She lands, lashing out with her tail so the wind will scythe through Ellisaria's elementals, keeping her belly low to the ground.

These elementals are larger and more solid than the last one, and they weather the gale. Some attempt to leap on to Brisingr as she passes, while others attack from the ground.

She zooms away again, rolling around sharply to shake off the one that succeeded.

She fills the whirlwinds she's making with fire - blown hotter than she can usually get it on her own. 

The fire grows faces, and starts lunging at Brisingr.

She's moving too quickly for ordinary flame to get past the natural wall of rushing wind around her, and isn't bothered by heat.

These flames are far from ordinary, and much stickier than the earth elementals.

She doesn't get burned, but they foul up her flying a bit. Still, her wind's picking up, the small objects in it flying at high enough speeds Ellisaria might want to close her eyes soon.

She raises walls of earth as windbreaks.

Some of the fire elementals leap into the earth elementals, and they merge into a form that combines the fire's ability to stick to Brisingr with the more powerful physical blows of the earth.

She weathers a few blows, tries a few clever tricks - 

And then zooms straight for Ellisaria, closing rapidly.

She rears up, intent on using her superior size and mass effectively.

Brisingr seems to be planning on being fast, slippery, and sharp - all of which she's quite good at.

But she's also fairly young, and rather unlikely to win.

There are very few dragonish tricks Ellisaria has not seen in her thousands of years. Such is the price of living in the Black Dragonflight.

She will make a threat of the perceived ventral vulnerability, if the opportunity presents itself.

Brisingr goes still when her belly's threatened by more than a glancing blow.

"I give," she says, a bit cheerfully.

She backs down.

"Well fought."

Hee.

"You're very good!"

"I have had millennia of practice. My dragonflight is not a peaceful one."

She curls her tail around her feet. "I don't know many dragons that old. Smaug's probably close to my age, and our oldest story teller is from the very late Second Age, and he never fights and he's so small no one thinks he's threatening."

"How sad."

"It's how things are, now. But we can change it."

"Yes, we shall."

"Is the vulnerability of your underside common?"

"Yeah. Usually the scales there are a lot thinner. I've heard of dragons with big hoards melting things into their scales, too, though. It's just hard to do with rocks."

"That is useful to know."

"Yeah - Smaug should have the same weakness."

"Precisely."

She bounces. "That'll be a good fight."

"A short fight is better than a good fight."

She laughs. "And a victorious fight is best."

Heh. "Yes. You mentioned lesser enemies?"

"Hm. There's other dragons, but they're probably not worth fighting much before any actual unification attempts... There's the orcs and all, some of them mind their own business but a lot of them work for the cockroach so I don't like them. I mostly know which groups pledge allegiance where - cockroach's orcs are way more annoying. They do recruitment attempts."

"We may as well thin the swarm."

She makes an eager noise. "That sounds fun."

"And good practice at combining our efforts. Where is the nearest nest?"

"There's warrens throughout the mountains, most of them really small. Nearest big one is Mount Gundabad, about... three hundred miles away, I think."

"How fast can you make that journey?"

She hums. "Two hours or so, if I'm not tiring myself out. Three if I'm soaring more idly."

"Good. We can easily make that in a day."

She grins. "A good introductory campaign, then."

"Yes. Unless you need rest, we should leave at once."

She flutters her wings. "I'm good."

"Then lead the way."

She takes off, wings flaring and wind gusting, soaring high and then circling to the west and slightly south.

Ellisaria flaps along.

It's two hours, as promised, at the speed Brisingr settles into. The mountain range they'd been along merges with another. The feeling of cold desolation continues over the land.

Their target is a large mountain at the crux of three ranges. The one rolling to the south is huge, mountains wide and tall and shrouded in thick clouds. The ones further west have been worn down, likely by glaciers. Gundabad is the tallest peak around, lesser mountains cascading off of it. There's just bare rock and lichen, no trees, and several caves and gashes that could easily admit a dragon their size gape open in the stone.

Brisingr calls out - "They don't like the sun, but they've probably spotted us anyways. They should think we're just flying over, though."

"We will have to disabuse them of the notion. Have you any experience with the layout of their warren?"

Cheerfully: "Nope!"

"I shall see for myself, then." She makes for Gundabad's peak.

That seems to alarm the tiny handful of orcish scouts - they scurry inside, shouting. Most of them have grey skin and clothing, meaning they blend in well to the mountainside when still, and most are fairly short, bodies stunted and malnourished.

Cockroaches in truth.

She settles on the mountaintop, and reaches down to feel the flow of the earth.

The earth sings, a slower, deeper, thrumming version of the song Brisingr uses. The earth itself is a low rumble like a great drum reverberating; the magma beneath the crust is like a ringing gong. There's something almost like a voice, or an echo of a great many voices, singing in harmony. There's disruptions, tangles in the harmony, counter-tunes that make the whole at least more engaging, if not more beautiful.

Very good. Now, she wants to understand the structure of the mountain beneath her. The core, tunnels, entrances and exits.

It's a bit hard to interpret given the information is via song, but she's able to get a map of the mountain, including the varied composition. This mountain probably didn't form naturally, is one notable part.

Also: there's a lot of carefully, meticulously carved grand tunnels, decorated in geometric designs and only somewhat defaced by the orcs, which Brisingr should be able to fit through. The grand tunnels have stood for millennia, the song sings, through war and dragon fire and earthquake, and they were carved by those who love the stone, and they will stand for millennia yet, until the last dwarf dies. There's also a ton of smaller, newer, and more poorly thought out tunnels weaving through the mountain, which are far less stubborn about having an aesthetically continued existence. Many of them are already blocked off by assorted cave-ins over the millennia.

Hm.

She approves of the grand tunnels; those builders had a proper attitude to the stone they worked. As for the others... They are an offense. Destroying them would be satisfying, and serve to drive the cockroaches out into the open.

The cockroaches find this highly alarming! A lot die in the cave ins. Some of the survivors cluster into the grand halls - but even more come boiling up out of numerous exits in the mountainside.

Excellent. That makes it much easier to strafe over them and deliver fiery death.

Brisingr joins her, laughing and filling the air with flame, using her wind control to fan the fires higher, creating whirlwind of fire that rip up the mountainside.

The orcs are having a rather bad day.

Ha. Good.

Brisingr also takes care of circling around, setting afire the ones escaping elsewhere - thr grand halls here don't connect to other mountains, and with their own tunnels collapsed, the orcs are in disarray.

Still, the ones who sheltered inside seem to be organizing a defensive stand, and the orcs on the surface organize archers, but their bows are poor and when Brisingr circles so the sun is behind her their aim becomes worse.

Seems like Ellisaria should head down to take over the frontline. She's more durable than Brisingr.

Brisingr trills an acknowledgement, switching to a rapid fly-by harassment to keep their forces in disarray and to burn up anyone trying to flee.

And Ellisaria will go knock on the front door, as it were. Unless they have a ballista in reserve, she's feeling fairly confident.

They do not seem to have a ballista. They do have spears and slingshots and short bows, which probably wouldn't do much against even Brisingr's soft belly.

Still, there's signs this core of orcs is, at least, trained. They fight in tight formation, kite shields bristling with spears, the ranged support used effectively as they try to harry her. They're also larger and more sturdily built, better fed than the scattering forces Brisingr is burning.

Tight formation are good targets when you breathe fire.

The orcs do seem to realize this rather quickly, though not quickly enough to avoid a few platoons dying. Their anti-fire-dragon tactics are a lot less well developed than their anti-cavalry or anti-cold-dragon tactics, though they somehow keep their discipline, apparently determined to go down fighting even as they split up and have their spear-users switch to trying to distract her from the archers and from a few armed with axes trying to maneuver towards her belly.

This seems like a good time to turn the stone beneath their feet into a forest of spikes.

That kills or injures quite a few, and threatens to disrupt their discipline - it also becomes obvious which ones are leading each unit, as several orcs start barking short orders.

Good, targets for the elementals that form out of the spikes.

Their forces fall into disarray as their leaders die, their command structure strained past its breaking point. The more distant archers start trying to flee, sparking an almost full rout of the few surviving orcs.

Ellisaria laughs, a deep, earthshaking sound.

She doesn't have much opposition, now. The laughter breaks the will of the last few standing against her - she can pick off the fleeing orcs at her leisure, if she feels like it.

Nameless terror is better than specific fears. No survivors.

None of them make it past her. A few manage to be somewhat peskier and more skilled at hiding - but they, too, die.

Outside, Brisingr seems to be having fun slaughtering the escapees to the last, from the loud sound of her cackling.

Heh. It's good she's having fun.

And, quite quickly, the battlefield clears of even the last stragglers.

"That was amusing."

"Yeah! Usually they hide in their little burrows and getting them out's annoying. Open confrontation is much better."

"They did not seem terribly well organized or armed."

"Yeah. Mountain orcs are like that - lotsa little tribes. They do better against cold drakes and when they can fall back into their tiny little tunnels - they like ambushing or swarming, and I dunno these ones're good at much else. Sometimes they'll get organized, though - whenever there's a war they show up as shock troops for the actually organized orcs, and sometimes you'll get some orc king or another uniting them then trying to conquer everyone else. And the stories always say the cockroach has a fearless army of orcs and evil men."

"I shall not get overconfident, then."

She grins. "We'll still set them all on fire, though."

"Of that there is no doubt."

She laughs and stretches languidly. "I like fighting with you so far. You're good, and you don't do silly things."

"You have no small skill yourself, especially for one so young."

Heee.

"I'd like to get better too, though. Still have a long way to go. But fighting's fun, and so's the Song, and so's practicing."

"Then you will find improvement no great task."

She nods, grinning. "It's gonna be fun."

"Smaug, next, do you think?"

"Yes, though I would like to do slightly more reconnaissance before our attack."

"Alright. What sort? Smaug might notice if we sneak around too much..."

"I was thinking I would use my human form to get closer to his lair. It is less noticeable."

She hums. "He'll smell you anyways if you go in, and maybe if you hang too close to the mountain. Though I don't think he'll notice if you ask around the humans at the edge of his territory."

"I do not need to get inside, necessarily, but the closer I am the easier it will be for me to map and manipulate the earth. Asking the humans may be worthwhile as well."

Her tail flicks. "I think it'll be easier if you stay downwind of him - and the wind usually blows from the north, around there this time of year."

"We'll have to circle around, then."

She nods. "We're to the west of Smaug by a good bit right now, only a little bit north - but south of the Grey Mountain's the elves, in a big forest between us and Smaug. Still, they mostly have bows, and if we don't mind them knowing we're there we can just stay too high for them to shoot. Dunno if we want to hide - we could also keep north, in the Wastes, and head east, overshooting Smaug's territory and coming over the Iron Mountains to the east of there. Dwarves live there, but they're not as sharp-eyed as elves, so they might not notice us."

"I am reluctant to announce my presence without emphasizing my power, and making an enemy of the elves at this juncture is premature. The northern route seems best."

"Alright. It'll add a bit of time, but not too much - and we're fast, anyways."

She stretches, grinning. "I'm more than ready to head out when you are, then."

"There is little left to entertain us here. Let us go."

She laughs and takes off in a flurry of wind, angling east at a quick pace, curling north only briefly to cross back over the mountains.

East and north. It is truly a pleasure to fly in a clear sky over a land that is whole.

Brisingr seems to agree - she keeps adding little flourishes to her flight.

Still, even as fast as they are, the sun's setting when Brisingr again turns south, a lingering twilight that has their shadows vanishing as they pass over the Iron Mountains. Brisingr has them loop around fairly far south, as the twilight fades into a starry night, then west and up north, over broad plains, towards a singular mountain. A dark forest forms a looming border to their west, the wind carrying a smell like rot briefly from the southern half.

The human settlement near the Lonely Mountain is barely visible, at the edge of an ashen Desolation. The land fairly reeks of it, even outside of Smaug's territory - something evil sits here, something with a deep hatred for all things green, and a deep lust for whatever riches and power he can unearth. The human town sits in stilts on the water, a single bridge connecting them to farms on the shore.

"This place has been befouled. I like it not."

"Smaug's likely been cursing it, or it's responding to his moods."

"Any elementals I draw up here will be likewise twisted. I cannot rely on their assistance."

She hums. "That might complicate the fight, and Smaug'll notice if I start dispelling his curse while he's alive... Could we carry some elementals in, for a little edge?"

"No. They are ineffective away from their home ground, and I have not yet the familiarity with this land to call deeper ones."

Nod. "On our own it is, then."

"Just so. I will go investigate the humans."

She sighs, laying down. "I'll wait here for you, then. Unless I hear screaming. Or roaring. Or everything catching on fire!"

Ellisaria chuckles. "All sure signs of trouble."

"Try not to get into too much of your own."

She looks very innocent. So innocent. Definitely not a spirit of chaos. "Oh, I won't."

"I would hate to miss the fun."

Grin. "I'll save some chaos for you, then. Maybe take a nap now."

Off she sets for the town.

It's a bit of a hike, and thoroughly midnight by the time she arrives. There's a guard at the gate over the bridge - which looks designed to be easily collapsed. He squints at her. "What's your business, traveler?" he asks.

"Passing through."

He glances at her. "Unusual place to stop, but I suppose not much else is around here. If you're looking for somewhere to stay - old Alve's place is more a tavern than an inn, but she's got dry rooms available. What merchants we get usually stay with the mayor, but he won't appreciate being woken up this time of night."

"I would not wish to put him to trouble, of course."

He shrugs and gives her directions to the inn, stepping aside to open the gate.

Fortunate for him.

Is the inn open?

There's a low lantern light on inside, and the door's unlocked. No one's at the bar, and the room's empty except for one person in a cloak reading by lantern-light. There's three doors exiting it, other than the one she came in on - one of them behind the bar.

Hm. Seems she's free to make herself comfortable.

No one disturbs her in doing so, though the person reading glances up at her briefly before turning back to his papers.

"Excuse me," she says. "Do you know where the proprietor of this establishment is?"

He glances back up. "Alve's probably asleep. She don't mind being woken up too much, though, especially not for late night customers - door past the bar leads to the kitchens. Her room's on the right of those."

"Thank you for the information." She gets up to investigate the door behind the bar.

He nods and turns back to his reading.

The door's unlocked. A bit sticky in its frame, but not too bad.

Let's see, then... the kitchen should be here, then she's looking for the room to the right.

It's as described. There's only one door to the right, and it's latched, though doesn't seem to be properly locked.

Knock knock.

(That seems to be a fairly universal humanoid etiquette.)

There's some rustling from within, a lantern being lit, then the door's being unlatched and opened, an old human woman staring blearily at Ellisaria. "You here for a room?" she asks.

"Yes, I am."

She lowers the lantern a bit. "I've got room, then. It's two silver marks for a night."

She reaches into her pocket and pull out two silver coins. They're embossed with the face of an elf that will mean nothing to the people here, but they're the pure metal.

The woman accepts them after a glance.

"Let me get your key, then," she says, stepping back and reaching over to retrieve a key. "Leaving the kitchen - turn right, to the door on that wall. You're up the stairs, second door on the left in the hall."

She takes the key. "Thank you."

Yawn. "You're welcome. And thanks yourself - don't get too much in the way of customers, this time of year."

"When is your peak season?"

She snorts. "Winter. More disgruntled lovers getting into fights when they're all cooped up - my beds see more haggard husbands than travelers. For visitors? That's the spring, elves and some rather stupid merchants, but the mayor hosts them."

"The dragon does not deter them?"

She sighs. "The elves live not much farther, and we're about the only ones who'll trade with them. And merchants can get real dumb if you sprinkle some coin on a trail. We don't get near as many as old Dale did in her height, though. Probably for the best - dragon's not interested in cloth and wheat."

"I see. Well, good night."

Another yawn. "Night." And the woman steps back, into her room, closing her door.

And Ellisaria goes up to her room.

It's rather plain, a small wooden bed with a thin mattress, curtains that likely won't block much sunlight, a small table with a washbasin, and an unlit lantern on the table. The window looks out through the rickety town - towards the mountain, in fact.

She's unlikely to miss the dawn, at least. A few hours' sleep would not be unwelcome, and then she can see what the town looks in the morning.

The town wakes up soon after dawn - not on a farmer's schedule at all, but the weak light is still enough to rouse people. Most of the noises are those of a small fishing village. There seem to be only two other rooms occupied, in this hall, of people who wake with the dawn - she didn't hear the reading man come up, though.

The town looks poor. Still, it's solidly constructed. Used to be bigger, too - there's a field of stone pillars peeking out of the water at the edge of town.

Is a breakfast included with her room?

A simple one, of bread and cheese and watery ale or tea. It's another few copper if she wants something fancier, though 'fancier' doesn't mean much out here.

She'll make do without spending the extra money.

After eating, she explores the town a bit. Are there any common gathering points, markets, places where she can pick up some gossip?

There's three main markets - one for fish, one for food brought in from the mainland, and one for other goods - wooden items and soaps and necklaces - which seems to meet less often. There's a square in front of the town hall, where people seem to gather to gossip.

Most of the gossip's on the usual goings on of a small town. Who's sleeping with whom, which kid's been obsessed with talking to elves, which barge-elf was drunk on the job, a handsome new guard, harsh training under the guard captain, worries about crops and fish yields - a lot of the fish have been sickly lately - and weather... The mountain hasn't had any activity in a short while, and that's always worrying...

What sort of activity is typical for the mountain?

Oh, sometimes there's shakes - sometimes there's fire, whenever green things dare grow - sometimes they see that foul beast, wheeling in the distance. That last hasn't happened in a time, but - they know when the dragon shifts, and when he settles, and when he dreams. You can feel it in the water, you know, and the sensitive have a dream or two.

Does the dragon cause much direct harm?

No. Not to them, not anymore - he burned Dale, and the Dwarven kingdom in the mountain, but that was before their oldest elder's great grandmother was born. Indirect - he poisons the waters, he drives away the animals, his Desolation claims the best farm land... But that's an old wound, now.

These people are unlikely to be much help tactically. Strategically, they're likely to want to move back when she has corrected the Desolation. Something to bear in mind, as that could lead to complications. They don't seem to have the military strength to contribute much to Smaug's defeat, though they might be able to serve as a minor distraction if such a thing is necessary and pitched to them correctly.

She doesn't think she'll get much more useful out of them now, so she'll make her departure.

She isn't stopped in leaving.

She heads towards the mountain.

The feeling of malevolence grows fairly quickly, as the ground becomes more and more of a wasteland. There's a path along the river that runs from the mountain into the lake, heading towards a massive ruined city at the mountain's base.

She neither needs nor wants to get all the way there. Out of sight of the town is good enough. She reaches down to feel the earth. It's like drawing her hands through sludge.

The sludge doesn't go particularly deep, at least - but it's almost like it's trying to burrow down and north, to some other ill pulse.

There are mines, beneath the mountain, spider webbing out into the bedrock surrounding it. Dwarven make, strong - not as thorough a work as Gundabad had been, but still showing a craftman's eye, and several advances in architectural science since.

Smaug wouldn't fit in the mines.

Ellisaria won't fit in them either, or at least not as a dragon. A potential avenue for infiltration, if she can sort out something to do with Brisingr.

There are tunnels she would fit into but Smaug wouldn't, higher up. In fact, Smaug's likely limited to a very, very small range of halls.

Brisingr, being rather skinnier, would fit into even more tunnels.

Of course, the mountain has only one entrance - no, possibly two, there's a small tunnel, five feet tall, going from the enormous treasure hall Smaug sleeps in to a flat stone wall about the right thickness for a door, ignoring the utter lack of seams.

Both entrances are still too close. She could create a new one, but that would not be subtle.

It all seems to come down to distraction. She returns to Brisingr.

Brisingr seems to have made good on her promise to nap and not cause trouble, though she wakes up as soon as Ellisaria is in line of sight - or perhaps in line of the wind carrying her scent - raising her head.

"What'd you find?" she asks.

"Little of real interest. There are deep tunnels beneath the mountains that Smaug would not be able to fit into, but access thereto is by the main halls. The humans are poor and have little strength, though their hate for Smaug runs deep."

She hums. "We might want to avoid fighting in the tunnels, anyways - I'm crud when I can't maneuver, and my best tactic against bigger dragons I actually want dead has always been taking them out in a dive." She pauses, then - "I can get up higher than just about anyone, and I'm built for quick dives - that with the speed Song makes me really fast. It's tricky to aim, and tricky to not injure myself, but especially if a dragon doesn't know I'm there, I can usually pounce on their back and break their spine."

"Interesting. I have been thinking that what is needed is for Smaug to be lured from his lair."

"One of us should hide while the other plays bait, then - and gets him mad. He'll be reckless, then."

"Yes. The trick is in surviving such provocation."

She nods. "I'm pretty fast at running away, and his fire shouldn't be able to burn me - but if I'm bait it'll be a bit harder to arrange for me to ambush him later in the fight."

"I was considering inciting the humans to attack his mountain in order to draw him out."

"Think that'd work?"

"It would depend if the humans were willing to be incited. I doubt they could pose any sort of serious threat, but that's what we are for."

She shrugs. "I don't deal much with humans at all."

"That option would likely take some time. If we would prefer to resolve this within the next day or so, we should leave the humans out of it. When Smaug is gone they may wish to reclaim their old holdings, but that needn't be our problem."

"I like working fast," she says with a grin. "And, anyways, going fast will reduce the change of Smaug smelling one of us."

"Then I think it best I take the part of luring him out, while you wait above for an ambush."

"Alright. Today?"

"If you are prepared."

"Oh, I am."

"Then we will go. How long can you hover for?"

"I can't hover for more than a few minutes, but I can glide in a pretty tight circle for a few hours high up. I'll be fine."

"Good. Attack when you see an opening."

Grin. "I will."

Then back to the mountain.

Ellisaria will close the final distance in her mortal form. She wants to see how close she can get.

Nothing disrupts her approach to the gate.

Except the feeling of something waiting. Watching.

She knocks. The echo is thunderous, and the mountain shakes.

There's an answering roar. The mountain keeps shaking.

And, thundering from within: "Who dares wake me!"

She knocks at the gate again, and this time the mountain grows still at her touch.

A roar, and the gate wrenches open.

Smaug looms within, eyes glowing.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ellisaria. And I am your judgement."

He just laughs.

"Is that so, little girl? Though I wonder - are you ashamed to be a dragon, that you take such a pathetic form?"

Ellisaria laughs.

"You would speak to me of shame, child? You, who corrupts the land and thinks this a mark of strength, who burns a single village and thinks himself a terror? You, who nests among trinkets like a common jackdaw? I have raised mountains and parted seas, battled demonic armies and spoken with Aspects. I have tasted the void between stars. And I have not failed my stewardship. I am not ashamed to be a dragon, but you and I are not of the same breed."

He growls, low in his chest, a golden glow building beneath his scales, setting the armor he wears on his belly into stark relief - and the tiny clear patch on one breast.

"Yet you dare not face me as a dragon - nor alone! You smell of a whelp - has some pathetic little dragon claimed to be your ally? Has she promised you riches, if only you overthrew me?"

She smirks.

"That you presume yourself worthy of such consideration is yet further proof of your fundamental... inadequacy. Step outside, o Smaug, and show me a single reason I should treat you as more than a spoilt brat, fearful his mother has come to make him return his stolen toys."

He snorts, but still the growl in his chest continues to rumble, and still his eyes narrow in anger. "You dare not face me here?"

"You step out of my power, not yours, child. Did I wish it, the peak of this mountain would meet the plain once more, and you and all your precious gold would be reclaimed by the earth, til the original delvers of these halls came to build them anew."

He rears his head back, eyes narrowing -

And breathes a gout of flame at her.

It is deflected by a wall of rock that rises in front of her. She siphons off the last few flickers and sets them to dancing around her person as the shield slides back.

"I fear I have greatly overestimated your intelligence, if you thought that such a thing would achieve any effect."

The fire seems to have been a screen for a lunge, teeth snapping at her just as her shield falls.

She doges to the side, grabbing a tooth as she does so, and wrenching.

He shrieks - and his tooth yanks free.

Tsk. Poor dental hygiene.

Still, it seems like the time for talk is over, so she blinks backwards a bit, away from the mountain gate.

He follows her, roaring angrily.

She begins weaving a lightning spell, sparks playing around her fingers, intending to drive it at the gap in his chest when he gets just a little closer.

He seems smart enough to not give her a clear shot, protecting his belly even with his arrogance about his golden coat, turning so his thick spine is to her as he takes off, apparently determined to fly over her head.

Turning the spell into a homing missile will take more time, but is still within her abilities. And then she'll need a moment of seeing the target to pin it in. But as long as he's looking at her and not up at the sky, she's still winning.

He loops, away from the mountain, apparently intending to circle around and rush her -

And Brisingr collides with him with a thunderous crack.

It's apparently not enough to outright kill him - he keeps twisting even as she bears down - and she's forced to disengage a split second before he slams into the earth, beating her wings hard.

Ellisaria swaps her target to Smaug's eye and lets the spell fly, so as to not completely waste the mana.

He roars, evidently pained, rearing back. He seems to be having some trouble dragging himself out of the crater Brisingr drove him into - he's not dead, but he certainly has broken bones.

She follows up with flurry of spells, primarily a mix of fire and lighting, with a little frost thrown in for variety. She's going for quantity over quality.

He hunkers down, shielding himself as a deep hum builds in his chest - the fire he seems to be able to ignore entirely, the lightning barely injures him, and the frost limes his scales but doesn't seem to be much of a bother. Still, it's enough he's hesitant to expose his eyes or belly to the onslaught.

She does not relish working the earth here, but she gestures, and tears a crevice beneath Smaug, trapping him further.

The earth resists her - but not quite enough. Smaug roars, causing the earth to quake.

Now that he's more stuck, she lets up on the elemental barrage. Where's Brisingr?

Circling overhead, keeping an eye on Smaug and humming - she swoops over to land near Ellisaria once the barrage calms down.

"Got a plan?" she asks, tilting her head. "I can kill him close up, but that'd be risky."

"Now that his movement is thoroughly restricted, I can weave a spell to kill him from the inside out. Do you think there would be any value in leaving bones or a head as proof of death?"

"Nah, and his body'd be a carrier for curses."

She nods, and begins work.

For this, the elemental schools will be insufficient. She will have to call upon the primary schools, which is why she needs the space and time to think. Fel would be ideal for this application, but as she is not a dribbling moron, she will not be using it. Light would serve, but the working thereof is... unpleasant. Shadow then, to devour, in the framework of Arcane, to define.

A ghostly Smaug takes shape before her, in silvery wireframe at scale. Within this grow points of utter blackness, wounds in reality that the eye prefers to skitter over than see directly. As they expand, Ellisaria tweaks the spell to keep them confined by the frame and not eating into it. When she is satisfied with the shape, she makes a compacting gesture, and it shrinks down to a small ball, glittering energy and spots of sheer nothing. This she lobs at the trapped dragon.

It sinks through his hide without resistance. When it reaches his center, the spell begins to expand, and the Void begins to feast.

He roars.

The earth shakes. The sun dims. The air grows oppressively hot. It's hard to breathe.

And then he dies, and everything clears.

The land still feels infected, almost, but the source of it's gone.

"Impressive," Brisingr says into the silence, voice breathless.

"Yes," says Ellisaria. "It was."

She laughs. "You're quite wonderfully terrifying."

"I am counted as one of the Black Dragonflight's most skilled spellcasters."

"It shows - your spell against Smaug didn't look easy."

"It was not. Now, do you care to investigate the erstwhile lair?"

"Yeah." She sniffs. "From how this land is, I bet he cursed the gold, too."

"It would not surprise me."

She shifts back to her dragon form.

And Brisingr heads into the mountain, glancing back only once to see if Ellisaria is following.

The halls are stone, built with a similar aesthetic ideal to Mount Gundabad - though by hands capable of moving far more quickly, who'd discovered new architectural tricks, making for larger, grander halls without abandoning Gundabad's sturdiness. Convenient, for the dragons, and for the city's ability to withstand Smaug's occupation.

Smaug apparently claimed the largest room for his lair - and for his massive pile of gold, which feels wrong somehow. Slimy, perhaps. Dark. Like it'd start whispering to you, if you lingered around it too long. Beautiful, more than it should be, desirable and precious and valuable beyond all compare. (This last is a fairly weak suggestion, easily ignored - if forewarned.)

Brisingr's lips pull back from her teeth. "Yuck."

"...Hm."

"Best thing to do is gonna be exposing it to sunlight," Brisingr says, eyeing the treasure. (Which is quite an excellent hoard, a clear sign of the power of whoever conquers it - the rightful property of the strongest.)

Brisingr seems to be ignoring how pretty the treasure is. "And I should be able to lay a conflicting curse over it in the meantime, too. Keep the humans from murdering each other over some shinies."

"I think that... would be best, yes."

"Won't be very strong, but scaring humans from stuff is easy."

"Do you have a magic thing for getting it into sunlight easily? Like, spread out over the mountainside would be ideal..."

"Not beyond carrying it out." And it seems a waste to do that, when it's all gathered neatly up already...

"Hmmm..." She shrugs. "Might as well start now, then."

And she heads up to the pile, grabbing some of the treasure in each of her clawed feet, contemplating grabbing some in her mouth, too.

Ellisaria twitches.

Which is ridiculous, she doesn't even care about gold. It has no intrinsic value. Still, though.

Brisingr eyes her a bit as she plans how to fly out of the mountain with her gold. "Is something wrong?"

"...No," she decides, shaking her head. This is absurd, she does not want this gold. "Let us be about it." She starts gathering up a pile of her own.

She nods, scowls at the coins falling from her fist, sniffs, then with an odd accuracy digs out a large silver mesh. She makes a triumphant noise and, after piling up the gold, takes off to start the long task of carrying it all out and scattering it around.

A net is a good idea. Ellisaria looks for one of her own.

There's a set of smaller meshes off at the edge.

She makes her own set of bags and starts moving treasure.

Brisingr seems to be taking care not to have the treasure piled as she scatters it around, though she's also not bothering to carry most of it outside of the Desolation. (Except one especially shiny gem, which she carries past the edge then drops in a river, identifying it as 'really cursed'.)

The oppressive feeling - the beauty of the treasure - fades dramatically as the hoard's reduced and scattered.

Does dropping it in the river provide additional cursebreaking help?

"Running water's good for that, yeah - it's resistant to picking up curses, and can wash stuff away, and it's probably faster than just daylight. It also reduces the chance of someone picking it up while it's still cursed."

"I've heard the ocean's best for curse breaking, but the ocean's really far off, so a river works. Still water like a pond or lake can get befouled, though, so it isn't as good."

"I see. An interesting system."

"I think it has something to do with the sun Maia and the ocean Vala? And the ocean Vala dude can also help protect running water. And dragons were made by Melkor, who also made the original gold curses, and both the sun Maia and ocean Vala hate him."

"At least they're good for something."

"Yeah. In the stories they do more than most of the other powers - though the dog one and daughter of the one who married an elf did the most, and the wizards might be Maiar but no one agrees about that." She shrugs. "They're not really relevant otherwise anymore, though."

"I have met a number of wizards in my world, and the only godhood they possess is in their delusions."

She shrugs. "Ours might be different, but who knows."

"Perhaps if we meet a wizard, some truth can be ascertained."

"That'd be fun! There's supposed to be only five, but they tend to be around when big story-ish events are happening."

"Our chances seem good, then."

Grin. "We're definitely going to be the most important event around for quite a while."

"How long do you think it will take for the curse to depart these items?"

"Depends on the item and how long he had it. Some of it will take only a day or few, some might take a few weeks, and a few things might take months, and the Desolation itself might not fully clear until the spring."

"It'll be weak, though, all spread out like this. One cursed coin is nothing next to a hoard."

"I don't especially wish to babysit these that long."

"I can make the worst parts of it also unnerving - terrifying would take a bit of time..."

"If we incinerate nine of the first ten that come seeking, that may serve as well."

She laughs. "Then they might just bring an army, though, and we'd have just as much of a problem on our hands. I think the curses will go down enough over the next week it won't matter much after that anyways; I scattered the more cursed stuff around more broadly, and a week's plenty of time for a sense of horrible dread."

"A week, then."

She nods, bouncing. "Maybe if some of the humans come up I can talk to them, too."

"Do not count on intelligent conversation."

Shrug. "I don't get to talk to anyone much. Don't think any will be better conversation than you but some might be better than rocks."

"Only a few, perhaps."

"Better than none."

"We'll see."

She laughs. "I'll probably want to be perching on the mountain most of the time. Still, anything you want to do while we lurk? - Wouldn't mind learning some magic..."

"As would I. We can see if you have the capacity."

She makes an excited noise. "So some people don't?"

"Everyone has at least some mana. Fewer have enough to permit the casting of spells. Or so it was in my universe. I do not know if the same rules apply here."

"Or to dragons."

"Here anyone can theoretically learn the Song - it's just... Singing with intent? But some people aren't any good at it."

"Musical talent does vary..."

"I think that's most of it, yeah. I haven't met a bad singer who was good at that sort of magic, though I think there's good singers who don't know how to apply it properly..."

"It is not an area to which I have applied myself."

"I can teach you, then!"

"Thank you."

She tilts her head. "You're welcome. Do you want to learn first or teach first?"

"The test to see if you have appreciable amounts of mana is fairly simple, though it involves sitting still for a time."

She grins. "Sounds like the hardest part," she says, teasingly, "But I think I can pull it off."

"Good. Find a comfortable spot and we can begin."

She drapes herself along a ledge on the mountainside, paws crossed primly, attention focused on Ellisaria. And actually sitting perfectly still, for once.

"You must focus your attention inward. I will create fluctuations in my mana, and you will try to detect a resonance within yourself."

She hums and... Tries to listen to her own body or something. Focus on her own body? Something like that.

Ellisaria casts her pulsing spell, and talks Brisingr through the sensations she's looking for softly so as not to disturb her concentration.

Brisingr has a rather extremely good sensitivity to magic native to her world -

It's not hard to figure out mana.

She manages to feel mana within herself, rather quickly.

Surprisingly fast. Good.

The next step is to cast a spell. This involves drawing one's inner mana out and shaping it into the proper form. Beginners often find associating the process with a mantra or incantation helpful as a concentration aid.

She's unsure if using songs - how she's used to manipulating magic - would be a good idea or not. Maybe humming, that doesn't tend to count as Song...

It could very well have unpredictable effects. They are charting new territory, here.

She nods - she'll stick to a mantra if she needs one.

What's a good beginner spell, then?

As a dragon, she should have a natural affinity for the school of Fire. Ellisaria will demonstrate a small fireball, one of the foundational spells of the school.

Brisingr seems to have a bit of trouble not breathing fire while doing this, but seems to get the basic concept relatively quickly once she sorts that out.

"Well done. You have a talent."

Heeeeee.

"I'm good at the Song too," she says, brightly. "This is fun."

"More complex spells take more mana, and often longer to learn and shape. Practice is key."

"Powerful Song is like that, though it isn't necessarily more exhausting. Still, I know how to practice."

"Let me demonstrate a few more elaborate spells, then."

"Okay!" she says, trying not to bounce. Too much, at least.

Ellisaria shows Brisingr how to cast a fire shield, a campfire spell, and then, for variety, a spell to conjure water.

"Is there an upper limit on how much water I can conjure?"

"It is proportional the amount of mana used to cast the spell, but the conversion is expensive."