Tale of a Shur'tugal

Black. All was black. No sight, sound, smell, nothing. Then, awareness, battle, blood, screams and cries for an end to the suffering. We are the Dragon Riders, the Shur'tugal. And we bring death. These thoughts are constant reminders of failure, past, present, and the foreseeable future. The failures of the past, perpetrated by the "Imperials" a joke, and a misled organization if ever there was one. They cling to the dying monarchy, the shade of the "glorious empire" that the traiter-king, Galbatorix led so long ago. But who are we? We are the failures of the present, the "Dragon Council" led by Arya, the Queen. Tools of the mysterious forest. I? I am Tyrras, Human, Dragon Rider, soldier. Whatever the Queen needs of me I am. The battle rages around Rizaex, my compatriot, friend, dragon, Quick-Flight, Red-Black-Flame, and I. I push away the the sickness in my gut, as i see yet another soldier, ripped apart by the brutal Imperial Mages, and prepare myself. For I am a Dragon Rider, and I bring death. Rizaex and I circle above the clouds, waiting for the signal. We've been assigned to take out the Mages as they're busy dealing with our decoy. I'm just glad that this time, the decoy has no civilians. Suddenly, a flaming arrow whips up from the base camp. "Are you Ready?" Rizaex asks. "As ready as I'll ever be, my friend". I reach out towards the mages, testing their sheild. Sturdy. Bad news. Rizaex goes into a steep dive. Wind whips past my head as I prepare to launch my mental assault. The mages shield suddenly faults, like shattered glass. 100 feet, 80, 50, 30, and we level, the force straining both Rizaex's wings and my body. The first mage puts up little resistance. Imperials are cocky, to a fault. 2nd and 3rd still attempting to find me. the barrier's our mages are throwing must be something fierce. They too, fall. The last finds me, and we begin to wrestle with who's controlling who. random images flash through my head. A wedding, a funeral, smiling faces, a mother screaming as she's told her son's being hauled away to be a Mage in the Imperial Army. I gain control, and I end the montage. He couldn't concentrate, and was slaughtered like so many others before him. As of now i am a foot soldier. My mission being finished, I am to return to the fray and slaughter anything in my path. Rizaex and I head to the earth, quickly, but safely. We land, and are immediately met by resistance. I slide down Rizaex's side, and my ward takes a ding as an axe whirls towards my head. I draw my sword, approximately as tall as I am. Ax thrower's alot more nervous at this point, and i capitalize on his hesitation to charge me. Drawing back a large swing, a test if you will, I see how willing he is to get in close. He dodges, not exactly the hardest thing to do, as i went about slow-motion on my swing, and he doubles back, about to wing a knife at me. I close, as only a trained-by-the-elves swordsman can, and rend him, pelvis to head. A large thump behind me and i turn around just in time to see Rizaex sweep his tail and take out a large portion of attackers. I may not have mentioned it before, but Rizeax is big, and the only dragon in recorded history that's been two colors. He's both red, and black. He sort of causes a stir, and he doesn't really like it. I run towards another group of enemies but they, rather suddenly, collapse. That's Deja. forever the Magus, he likes to keep his enemies away, whether it be with arrow, or piercing mental barrage. He's a Human, but is unusually skilled in arts arcane. His Dragon, however, has no such reservations. Kialon is big, but sleek, and a deep, forest green. A better air-fighter, you would be hard pressed to find. Deja yells to me "how's your kill count?" "I lost count at around 200...got bored" i said with a small shrug. Deja laughs as Kialon wings off to their next objective. Do we have anymore orders? i ask. No, base has been quiet . Hmm. That's never good. I leap back on top of Riz and we fly off to camp.