>         Hearing the tale of the Archmage's dagger, and feeling slightly out of
> place among all of the old friends gathered around him, Torgath almost
> found himself wishing that something would happen, anything, to get him out
> of Balefire's shadow.
>         He watched the one they all called Mea approach, and sat impassively as
> they were all reaquainted with each other.  Mea suggested that they leave,
> and Torgath was inclined to agree, when suddenly the sunlight faded away.
>         "Funny," said Twilight, "It's too early to be dark."  They all looked
> upwards to find a large shape blotting out the sun.
>         "It's not dark," said Torgath ominously, "Asmoneas approaches."
>         Balefire drew his sword as Torgath dismounted.  "No!" he exclaimed with a
> force and determination that caused even the giant man to pause.  "Please,
> it must be done by me.  I can't explain why, but if you so much as lift a
> finger against that dragon, I will kill you, or die trying."
>

Bemused at the vehement response, but seeing the dragon as the greater threat, the
warmage gestured assent.  He readied a Wrathbolt, though, and kept his sword
unsheathed.  No mercenary ever grew old by acting rashly, and there was clearly
something afoot besides Torgath having an irrational death wish.   A geas of some
kind, perhaps, or a quest on which something Torgath wanted or needed depended.
Balefire had been threatened many times, and knew the difference between a threat and
an attack.  If Torgath wanted first crack at the dragon, even if he failed it would
provide some insight in how to fight the beast.  It almost seemed  a pity though...the
scholar in him regretted that the first confirmed sighting of a dragon appeared
destined to be a violent one.

> Torgath drew both of his swords, ignoring the looks of stunned anger by
> his companions.  The heat and cold of his two Katanas caused moisture to
> condense on the ground.
>         The dragon screamed, and began his descent.  At seemingly the last moment,
> Torgath clanged his swords against his chest, and promptly disappeared.  He
> reappeared on the dragon's back, and jabbed both katanas between the
> scales, causing the dragon to scream in pain, and plummet to the ground.
> Asmoneas hit the ground face first, causing Torgath to fall directly in
> front of the grand dragon's face.
>

Well away from the site of the dragon's abrupt landing, Twilight and Balefire
exchanged wry smiles: Torgath certainly had some interesting tactics.  Their
professional interest warred with their desire to help their new companion, but they
held back a moment more, fascinated by the unexpected scene.  Twilight looked ready to
gallop into the fray, but Balefire gestured her to wait.

> Then, Asmoneas made his fatal mistake.  He opened his gaping maw to devour
> Torgath whole.  Just as it seemed he would be swallowed, Torgath Rammed
> both swords into the roof of the dragon's mouth.  The dragon thrashed and
> writhed, and while he was distracted, two bolts of God's fire came shooting
> out of his gauntlets down the beast's throat.  He then took his swords and
> carefully  crawled around until he was hanging from the beast's horn, and
> shove his swords into the ear canal of the monster, piercing its brain.
>         As the dragon's death throes slowed to a halt, Torgath severed its head
> with three cuts of his swords.  He muttered some words of magick, and the
> head disappeared as Torgath had so few moments ago.
>         That done, he breathed a huge sigh of relief, and turned around, ready to
> face the music for speaking to Balefire so insolently.
>
>

Returning his claymore to its scabbard on his back, Balefire addressed the newly
arrived Mea Culpa, his expression impassive and his voice tone neutral.  "Mea, allow
me to introduce Torgath, newly arrived and, albeit a bit precipitate, clearly quite
adroit.  Torgath, I have the honor of introducing Mea Culpa, who is not only as deadly
as she is lovely, but is also a truly gifted sparring partner."

With a small quirk of his lips that might almost have been the beginning of a smile,
the big dark elf remarked, "Nice work with the dragon...for a moment there it didn't
look good for you.  Had it been me, I probably would have attempted to speak to
the...ah...late dragon.  Might have gotten eaten for my trouble, I suppose, but mayhap
not.  Without a head, the question becomes academic, of course.  At the very least,
you have provided us with considerable entertainment, and Alduin with some very
interesting material for his journal.  I'll wager the bards will be singing of Torgath
Dragonslayer before the year is out."

"Do you think," the warmage continued in his mild conversational tone, "that you could
satisfy my curiousity about why it was necessary that you attack the dragon alone?  Or
perhaps," his mild tone changed only slightly to include just a hint of whetted steel,
as his half-smile vanished, "you were intending to make another threat or two?"