The diverging paths were obvious to all. The flying army
was on its own, the battle would be won or lost long
before the troops on the ground could arrive.
Gilthanas, in an extensive letter to Porthios, gives us a
vivid picture of this assault – the first time the good
dragons took the offensive in the war.
“Within four hours our dragons drew within sight of
mighty Vingaard Keep, standing on the near bank of the
river that bears the same name.
“For more than a year, the dragonarmies had held the
fortress, and their presence formed a bleak shroud around
the once-grand castle. Layers of soot clouded the walls,
and rubble-strewn fields surrounded the high towers,
where once thrived lush crops of grain.
“I never knew such exhilaration and excitement.
Silvara tucked in her wings and plunged toward the city.
Wind lashed my hair and stung my face. The ground
approached with dizzying speed, and I felt a fierce joy.
“At last the dragonarmies would get a taste of the
terror they had spread so wantonly across Ansalon.
Silvara’s challenging bellow thundered through the air,
echoed by scores of silver and golden throats.
“The draconians lining the walls quivered and shook
under the awe of dragonfear, and only ceased their
trembling as they died. Clouds of horrific breath expelled
by the good dragons swept the draconian ranks, slaying
them where they stood. Blistering heat from the brass and
gold dragons mingled with the lightning bolts spit by the
bronze; spurts of acid from the copper dragons pooled on
the paving stones beside the chilling blasts of ice spouting
from the silver wyrms.
“A few evil dragons, mostly blues, had taken refuge in
the city after the battle at Westgate. Now, these rose to
meet us, spitting lightning bolts, carrying their riders into
the fray. But even as they rose, the magic of the gold
dragons smashed the leaders from the skies. Then a rank
of knights led by Silvara and me, carrying dragonlances
shining as bright as silver dragonwings, met the enemy
and ripped into the blues.
“Silvara reached out with rending claws and tore the
wing from one of the blues. I watched the crippled
creature plunge to its death. Then a bolt of lightning
crackled past my head. Quickly I raised my lance as
Silvara shrieked. Her head, of silvered steel, struck the
back of the blue wyrm and that serpent, fatally pierced,
followed its fellow to the ground. The other good dragons
whirled passed us, slaying the remainder of the blues
before their deadly breath weapons could begin to tell.
“Within an hour, brother, the good dragons had settled
to the rooftops and towers of the city, spewing their
deadly breath while the griffon-mounted elves showered
the remaining defenders with arrows. For the whole day
the dragons remained perched on all the high places in the
city, following the plan of our general.”
Gilthanas was all for pursuing the enemy troops into
their hiding holes, driving them from the city, but his
sister insisted on patience. There would be no pursuit.
Instead, the dragons of good would occupy every vantage
point in the city, barring any draconian from appearing in
the light of day.
This patience paid off in lives. Seeing that their hated
enemies were not about to depart, the troops of the
dragon-army abandoned Vingaard Keep during the night.
Some fled south, fearing the spring-swollen river as much
as they did the good dragons. Many of these were humans,
who hoped to blend into the populace. A great number of
these, it is known from the records of the knighthood,
joined the ranks of Laurana’s army by the end of the
campaign. Others stole what boats they could or, in the
case of draconians, tried to use their wings to carry them
across the deep torrent. (Fully half of the latter are
believed to have perished in the attempt.) When the sun
next rose over Vingaard Keep, the fortress was held by the
good dragons and their elven allies.
The few humans who had survived the long and brutal
occupation crept from their shadowed rooms into the
sunrise. They caught sight of Laurana’s hair, trailing from