Cataclysm: Dragonborn

Chapter 2: Introductions

Jarvan yawned as he stretched an arm above his head.

Two years and he had only lost four men. He was slowly returning to the great barrier, slowly drifting home. He had found his fears and he had challenged them and won. He and his men had journeyed across the wastes below the Great Barrier, Shurima, Fyrone Flats, Kumungu and the Plague jungles.

During his times exploring the vast tracts of land that made up the southern half of Valoran, he had met many a character. He had sparred with many different champions of the League, each suggesting he make his way there and search for more answers there. Jarvan had initially rejected the idea of joining the league, but now, he was becoming more and more interested in the group that was known as the League of Legends, though he wasn't sure about it in his own right.

"I'm here to take over, sir." Jarvan looked up from his brooding into the face of Forsythe, the tow headed soldier standing over him. Jarvan glanced at where the moon hung in the sky and yawned, suddenly feeling tired. He pushed himself to his feet and clapped the man on the shoulder, moving past him to where his gear had been lain out next to the fire.

Jarvan kicked off his armored boots and lay back on his bedding and drank in the cool night air. He closed his eyes briefly, wondering what awaited him as when he returned home to Demacia. The image of the mighty dragon who had killed three of his men the first day he had journeyed into Shurima flashed through his mind. His eyes shot open, the lust for the blood of that draconian bastard flaring in his veins. That dragon remained as one of the few challenges he had been unable to conquer.

His mind continued to wander as sleep washed over him.

...

The wind started to blow and on it carried the pained cries of a wounded animal.

This wasn't any normal animal though, there was something haunting and violent to it. It varied in pitch and jumped up and down the octaves. One minute it would be a bass rumble like the strider, and the next it would be a piercing shriek like a small child. Jarvan opened his eyes as the deranged and violent cries grew worse. He ran a hand over his face blinking what little sleep he had gotten from his eyes.

"I can't get any bloody sleep like this." Jarvan glanced over as Isaacs pulled himself up and grunted, hauling himself to his feet. He paused as he looked across the desert plains with a frown upon his face before his finally shook his head and ran a hand over his bread, smoothing it out. He turned shook his head, heading towards the small fire that still simmered in the evening light.

"What is that noise?" Jarvan sat up, kicking his legs out in front of him with some effort. Isaacs paused, looking back at Jarvan for a moment before looking back towards where the sound came from in the distance. He frowned as if he was thinking before he shrugged and shook his head in exasperation.

"No creature I've ever fought." Isaacs growled as the particularly loud shriek cut through the night air. "Dragon, maybe?" He yawned, smothering it with a fist.

"It's not like any dragon I've ever heard." Jarvan muttered as he ran a hand over his face and looked to where the moon was sitting lower in the sky. Two hours, if that? Jarvan sighed.

The sound was disturbing, one Jarvan had never heard before, like the dragon was sad as well as hurt. Its cries were ear shattering, ringing through the night with such a frequency as though it could nearly cut through your very being. Jarvan peered out through the night, searching for the source of the sound, trying to identify the direction the baying was coming from. Throughout the night, the sound continued to echo through the sky, before it finally died out just before dawn.

"You think it finally died?" Isaacs asked tentatively as he sat down next to Jarvan.

He and the rest of the men had long risen from their bedding and were sitting around the fire, clutching their weapons. With everything they had seen in the past few months, it should have taken much more that this to shake his men's nerves so thoroughly, but as he looked around the circle, many of the men had dark circles under their eyes. The sounds that had been echoing through the night were haunting and menacing. They were hollow and longing, as if the dragon was being tortured by its own mind. The beast had been struggling to hold onto every inch of its life, struggling against everything.