There was, unfortunatly, a bit of confusion and delays to this one. Computer troubles and some missing parts by Funki delayed this.

I took over before too long, moving posts so they were in the right section, and adding a key sentence to the start of the Rollover which you see below. The rest is by Funki. It started as a joke about the 'lag dragon,' and quickly moved to something more. The mission ended up varying in a few ways from Funki's original concept, but the result was worth any changes, in MY opinion! (I never realized this before, but apperanatly, Funki DID post the mission notification in the right spot- just on the wrong board. I ended up not even realizing it was there when I kick started the mission.)

The shortness of this opening will stand in direct contrast to the ending, as you'll see . . . Well, let's get this baby started!

A long time ago. . .

Damarcan stood at in front of his squadron, peering off into the distance. The Chrono Dragon was approaching the Island of Mystery. The dragon had requested tribute from his village, more meat than they could afford. They had sent every last nugget they had, and some items as well, but the beast had not been satisfied. It had decided to make an example of them, and it was now attacking.

 
Damarcan readied his men, as best as he could anyway. They were all terrified. And, to be honest, he was more than a little scared himself. He looked to his left, at the line of villagers fleeing into the distance. His wife, two sons, and five daughters were among them. He hoped they would find someone else to call “daddy” after he was gone.

 
The group spread out and took cover, knowing that in the back of their minds that it’s impossible to ambush something that is moving and thinking much, much faster than you are.

 
When the dragon made its first pass overhead, the archers fired their first volley. They all missed. The beast was simply moving faster than the bowshots. It glanced at them with a slight look of irritation, and hurled a pair of magic spheres at a few of them. The spheres struck, and several of Damarcan’s finest men slowed down to a crawl.

 
The beast turned and flew through the village, smashing through huts and houses like they were toys. It swooped in and picked up a pair of warriors, flinging them across the town. Then it turned to the rest.

 
By the time it was finished, the village was in ruins, and everyone in it lay dead or dying. Damarcan’s last thought was a prayer, a prayer of vengeance.