Overall, I think it would have been better for this poor idiot to be afraid. If he had done as he should, screamed and thrashed around a bit before begging for mercy, I might have granted him life.
But the way things were going, it seemed to me he was more bent on begging for death. I mean. Could he not see how much goddamn effort I had put into making myself presentable, skinless as I was? No cloak worth the name could fill out these less than gratifying curves of mine so I had gone down the other road and revealed for all to see that beauty was not just skin deep, it was etched in the very bones. Hours and hours of painstakingly detailed work, and then this brainless hulk came stomping about and kicked around so that all the boring darkness of bare bone became visible once more.
I ask you! No sense of delicacy!
It served him right to be marred in return. Teeth weren't the best instruments when it came to gouging, but though I failed to squish that juicy looking eyeball like a berry I did manage to make a tenfold improvement to his appearance. A few more scars like those and he'd almost look edible!
Now, I did feel a bit distracted even as we were, so to speak, in the middle of something. The loss of freely available magic must affect me more than I had thought possible; I didn't even notice the mosquito of a dragon until it fluttered up into the air again, and the sight of it made my blood run cold. Or, well.. you get the idea. Bony, scrawny tail bones thrashed in a sudden blaze of anger, fury that hadn't been there for even a second before. But I couldn't help it, couldn't keep it at bay because how dare this no-name son of a goat-fucking bitch bring dragons within a hundred miles of my self!? A small, stunted and underfed version, yes, but a dragon none the less! The sight of it made my teeth itch, my voice switch from cackle to vicious snarl - and it might have been imagination, but for a second there I almost felt the good old power surge through my essence again, to lend a ghostly blue glow to the empty sockets and make the ribcage swirl with tendrils of pure, true darkness.
If I'd had my magic intact I would have paralyzed his flabby ass and ripped out his jugular then and there. But I didn't. And I was distracted. So I failed to register the new flow of will through the ether before it was too late.
The earth heaved under me, pushed my rear up from the ground and toppled me off balance. Not even in my prime had I been particularly agile, big and heavy as I was, and it had only grown worse after the grounding flesh and stabilizing membranes rotted away. I fell, but by making a last minute twist around a front hoof and a jerk of the same side wing I ensured I fell towards the irksome bloke, sneering eternally as I made to crash into his bulk, which I dwarfed upon comparison. Blackened teeth snapped as I strained to reach for the throat, the clawed wings clumsily attempting to cut open the pretty velvet skin, so smooth and pure and young, untainted by age and pain and suffering.
Oh, he knew nothing of life, nothing at all; he could kick and flail and try his best to make the lesser ones bow and humble, but it would all be for naught. Just like his last attack.
I almost envied him the chance to pass away into oblivion. It would be too horrible to see this cute little turd succumb to the years and get all wrinkly and fat. Better kill him now, to spare him the misery of it all.
Yes, let's do that.
PC: 3/3 + Cl Def
WC: 662
Summary: Gashad notices the dragon and is distracted. Volterra succeeds in bringing him off balance, Gash tries to turn the fall into an attack by turning and crashing into Volterra's side, teeth aiming for the throat while wing claws attempt to rake his opposite side barrel
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