The elf-king and his unit have slain all those around them and he takes a moment to survey the battlefield. His long blond hair stained crimson with same blood that coats his armor, his blue eyes reflecting the determination of the free people's yet also a sorrow. Sorrow for all the lives lost, for the civilians that could not be saved, for the waning hope of the armies.

Were it just the hordes or orcs and goblins to contend with, they may have a difficult time enough. But with the goddess of fire and shadow, Kytris, leading the enemy things seem almost hopeless. The dwarf lands had fallen, survivors fleeing west to the still free lands, their males joining the armies of the elves and humans. The badlands, that great burning dessert, had fallen not a week past, and now all that remained were the very edges of the territories of man and elf.

Ecthelion, the first king of the elves, can see the despair in the hearts of all those who fight. Even though the human and dwarf women have taken up arms with their husband, though the infirm elves still force themselves to continue, it is obvious the long war has exhausted everybody. And with little to show for it as the enemy gains more ground. Everyone will fight to the death to defend their loved ones, their homes, and their freedom, but more and more it seems that it will only end with their deaths.

The great screech of a monstrous dragon is heard as Kytris flies over the battle, her flames burning through the fighters lines, sharp claws and large teeth gouge furrows in the land and sever through the allied forces.

That is the key to the war, Ecthelion thinks. If there was only some way to defeat the Nieva, the god who had turned on the world. If they could only take out Kytris, than the orcs would be leaderless, the allied forces would have hope again. They would rally behind their leaders and oust the orcs and goblins from their lands back to the frozen wastes of .

How do you defeat a god though? Ecthelion wonders to himself. Her scales were too tough to pierce with any weapon, no arrow or sword, no lance or spear could pierce them. The catapults had little effect, seemingly to affect her little more than to cause her to alter course a small amount. There must be some weakness, something that could be exploited.

As Kytris rears back, ready to spill more fire across the field, a hail of arrows fall on her head. She quickly closes her mouth and shakes the arrows off as easily as rain. And that is when Ecthelion realizes that the dragon does have a weakness, although a difficult one to take advantage of. Ideas run through his mind quickly and most are dismissed just as fast, their odds of working being calculated as too low. One idea stands out though, it is an almost hopeless one, a final last-ditch effort, but the only one that may actually work.

Ecthelion knows what he has to do now and the weight of it sits heavy on his heart. Before he can enact his plan, there is one thing he must do.

It takes him a moment to find his wife, Arlayna, in the chaos of the raging battle. When he finally does see her, he directs his unit to move over towards that direction. Together the group fight hard and eventually the two separate groups become mingled. Despite the bloodshed around them, he takes the time to embrace Arlayna in a tight hug and give her a kiss. She looks a little confused, after all the fighting still rages around them.

"I love you," he whispers to his wife, "and I am so, so sorry. Please forgive me for what I am about to do."

Ecthelion finally lets go of Arlayna and moves away, regret and determination burning in his eyes.

"What are you going to do?!" Arlayna calls after him, still confused. "What are you doing?"

The king does not answer and disappears into the melee around them. With a renewed vigor he makes his way towards his target, the massive dragon which dominates the field. With a single minded purpose the king cuts down any orc or goblin which stands in his way, paying little attention to anything but his target.

Eventually he is near enough to the great dragon and to get her attention he picks up a discarded spear, launching the weapon directly at the beasts gaping maw. Kytris's mouth snaps shut against the projectile and she swings her head around to see who dared to challenge her directly.

"Have you finally realized the futility of your fight?" the dragon questions the elf-king. "Have you finally come to die?"

"This fight would not end with me! These people would fight to their vary deaths to preserve their lives, to live freely. They would fight until the last were felled. Men and women, dwarf, elf, and human. None would ever stop resisting your tyranny," Ecthelion shouts at the dragon. "Nor will I die so easily."

"Than so be it," Kytris replies, "Your death will signal the end for all your forces."

She raises her claws to swat at the elven king but he is too quick and manages to avoid being hit. The dragon raises up and slams onto the ground attempting to squash the smaller being with her bulk, but again Ecthelion is too agile and narrowly avoids the attack. He raises his sword and attempts to slash at the dragon but like all other weapons it is ineffective and simply bounce of the armored scales. When Kytris breathes fire he manages to dodge far enough out of the way to avoid any real damage, although he still obtains some heat burns.

The fight continues like this for several eternal minutes. Kytris swipes with her claws, digging large trenches in the ground, she rains fire down around them till even the dirt burns, and she uses her massive bulk to cause tremors in the earth. Yet every attack, Ecthelion manages to avoid the worst of. By the end he is cut and bruised and burned, blood drips sluggishly from his many cuts and even his bones hurt for the rough fight. Yet patiently he awaits the opportunity to enact his plan.

Eventually Kytris brings her teeth into the fight, serpentine neck following the king with teeth and hot breath clawing at his back. And finally, finally his chance comes. Ecthelion is able to dodge to the side and turn just as Kytris opens her mouth to grab him. With as much force as he can muster, the king reaches into the massive maw with his sword and plunges it through the roof of the dragons mouth. The blade pierces the softer flesh and sinks all the way through to the dragons brain.

With a roar of pain the great creature recoils and begins writhing in the throes of death. Its loud billows are heard far across the battlefield and beyond, causing everyone on both sides to stop fighting and see what has happened. The last vestiges of smoke billow from the dragons mouth as Ecthelion is wrenched violently to the side where he lands and is still.

Eventually Kytris stills and her great head comes to rest not far from where the broken elf-king lay. Their eyes meet and the dragon speaks despite the blood still bubbling out of its mouth.

"This is not yet the end, elf-king. My line will rise and continue my fight, and I will still have won."

Ecthelion forces himself to move his injured body, rolling and pushing himself up with his right arm. Where his left arm, his sword arm, should be there is no only emptiness, blood still trickling from the scant remains of his upper arm. Beyond exhausted he staggers the short distance towards the dragon, collapsing right near her head. With his remaining hand he digs out a shallow reservoir in the dirt and creates a small trench so that Kytris's blood begins to pool in it. With a sound of pain he opens the clotting wound on his missing arm and allows the blood from it to fall into the small puddle as well.

He dips his hand into the still warm pool of blood and begins to scrawl shaky runes on the dragons neck.

"What are you doing? You only hasten your demise," the dragon questions, voice weakening.

"I place now this curse upon you and your line, sealed in blood, that never shall any of your blood reach their full strength again, and that they be bound in their bones to stay. This curse I bind in our own living blood, and only through our living blood may it be broken."

His voice so soft it could barely be heard, once finished the runes lit up and sank into the dragons flesh.

Kytris twitched weakly and gave out a small cry as finally her eyes glazed over and no longer was she a part of the world.

With no more strength left, Ecthelion fell back, unable to support his own body anymore. He turned his head sideways and could see the enemy forces retreating, the allied armies having rallied at the death of the goddess and pushing them back. Some of the allied forces who had been near to the fight rushed over to him. He could see their mouths moving but heard nothing, his vision blurring a little the figures became more indistinct.

I'm sorry, he said, or maybe he just thought it, he didn't know anymore. I know there is still much to be done. The worst is over, but we still have so much left. I'm sorry, I don't think I'll be able to help anymore.

As his vision dimmed farther, Ecthelion's final thought was of his family. His breathing became fainter until eventually it stopped as he faded and was no more.