Sea Drakes

    Muscles heaved, sweat poured. Countless rows of oars pushed the fleet of ships onward. Hundreds of warships, their wooden hulls moist from spray, powered towards the opposing fleet. War drums boomed, signaling the battle to come. Ancient glaciers created a backdrop against the growing light of morning, half obscured by tendrils of mist. At their feet were the shattered remnants of vessels with errant captains. Dangerous ice floes bobbed amidst the ships, creating a treacherous field captains must traverse.

    At the forefront of the mighty fleet stood a ship much like the others. Wood polished with affection, a scarred dragon head sweeping up from the prow, jaws agape in defiance of the enemy. Many enemy ships had been smashed asunder beneath its baleful gaze. Tight sails were left furled, for the wind would be against the ship’s crew. The rowers had to take up the slack.

    A dragon of fine white scales brandished his axe at the head of the fleet, it’s blade razor sharp and gleaming with deadly intent. The head crests and icy blue mane were easy to distinguish, striking fear in all those who laid eyes on Fanfir Boddelen. His muzzle was pulled back in a snarl at the opposing fleet, another clan of dragons willing to oppose his rule of the icy sea. Even as the ship was propelled by two dozen dragons capable of tearing a normal man in half, it was not fast enough. He wanted to get to grips with the enemy, yet had to settle for glaring across the ice with piercing blue eyes.

    “Sir,” Fanfir’s first lieutenant, Torkos Arcflame, growled from Fanfir’s elbow. “The men are ready. When we hit, they’ll be torn to pieces.”

    “Good,” Fanfir replied. “I haven’t wetted my axe for too long.”

    The smallish purple dragon grinned ferally and unholstered the hammer he kept at his waist. The head was a blunt brick of metal, easily hefted by the stocky lieutenant. His horns numbered at fourteen, coupled with three chin horns and spines from egghorn to neck. The beak of five fused teeth only added to the dragon’s fearsome visage.

    “Up the tempo,” Fanfir ordered. Torkos relayed the order, and the twenty-four dragons worked to close the gap.

    “Live by fire!” Torkos roared to the crew.

    “Die by fire!” Came the reply. Swords and shields clashed together to create a cacophony. The entire fleet roared their battle cries. The armies were so close that Fanfir could see the dragons on the opposite ships, and he swiped his axe through the air in preparation. Torkos twirled his hammer.

    The distance closed. There was no stopping the pervading fleets now. At Torkos’s signal, the crew dropped the oars and took up their weapons, clustering at the front of the ship. None went so far as Fanfir, who leaned out from the prow, daring the enemy onwards.

    The drums beat to a crescendo.

    Fanfir took a step back, his axe held ready, and charged up the dragon’s head. Pushing off the snarling figure, he leapt across the gap. His axe came down in a brutal arc, bisecting a dumbstruck dragon on the other side.