C44 Sundering

We appear on the tallest tower of the Cliff, the wind raging against us, whipping at our hair and robes. Fire streaks across the sky. The horizon burns. Roars and cries and screams fill the air. Below us, the battle has begun.

A dozen small dragons swarm the fortress, attempting to set the ballistae on fire, avoiding bolts aimed at their skulls. My friends, the Dragoneyes squadron