In the Shadow Níðhöggr

The great Níðhöggr soared into view. His roar tore through the frozen air like thunder and a great gust of foul wind drove the stench of death before him. As he drew closer they could see the rotten flesh of the creatures fetid hide, the torn membrane of its vast wings and the protruding bone of its skull where the flesh had been stripped from the right side of its face.

"That is no Wyvern." Growled Balar as he glanced dounbtfuly down at the shovel in his hands.

The Dragon flew in low gliding above the group as it poured sickly green and blue flames from its open jaws. The group were forced closer to the lakes edge as the heat of the flames grew more intense.

Three times the Dragon repeated this. Each time the flames falling short of the group and trapping them between the shore and a fiery death.

"The bastard is toying with us." Balar spat as Níðhöggr flew by the third time. As if in response the Dragon roared and circled once more, but this time there were no flames. This time with wings spread wide it came to land. It stood before them in the heart of its own inferno and fixed them with cold dead eyes as green flames licked around its body.

"GOD SLAYERS, BANE OF HELA, CHILDREN OF CHAOS. WHO AMONGST YOU WOULD GRASP MY LEASH? WHO AMONGST YOU WOULD BREAK MY CHAINS?"