Free Dragon Apocalypse (The Berserker and the Pedant Book 2) by Josh Powell Page A

and the crowd grew silent as it watched the grate.   The grate began to quiver and shake.   A few wise individuals took he opportunity to turn and flee, but most drew in closer to get a better look at the mist obscured grate.
    The grate exploded into the air, flying up and knocking back the crowd with a concussive force.   Vines slithered out of the opening, grasping those in the front of the crowd, crushing them, and tossing them hundreds of feet into the air.   The crowd panicked, and no longer seemed concerned about the mist.   They ran in every direction as a mass of vines disgorged from the hole and into the streets.
    The vines tore into people, flinging them about.   One peasant was ensnared by the leg and wrapped around and around with vines until only his eyes peeked out.   A sort of a vine mummy, if you will.   His eyes turned purple and red as blood was compressed into them.
    A massive trunk burst forth from the hole, exploding the earth outwards, showering The Ice Brigade with dirt and rocks.   The creature gave a tremendous earthen roar, as if channeling the raw fury of nature.   “Rooooaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhh!”
    “Treant!” yelled Gurken as he happily unslung his recently reacquired axe from his back.   He tapped on Jera, the rune engraved on his axe that symbolized the cycle of life, that cyclical pattern of the universe that describes how everything changes in its own time.   It was also the rune of a good harvest, which Gurken was, at this moment, hoping to have.   The rune, to his consternation, did nothing.
    Pellonia drew a pair of knives.   Maximina handed two crossbows and some quiver cartridges to two servants, saying, “Hand the crossbow to me when mine is empty, and reload the one I hand you!”   Ohm watched everything impassively, an unreadable expression on his face. He sighed and said, “Time to pay the bills,” and began to play a tune half-heartedly on his lute.   Apocalypse took flight.
    The hair on Pellonia’s arms stood on end, sending shivers down her spine.   Gurken and Maximina noticed it happening to them as well, and they looked to Ohm for some sort of explanation.   Ohm shrugged but continued to sing and play the lute.   Sparks began to crackle along the trunk of the tree, small sparks of lightning danced up the trunk as the treant lifted itself out of the hole.
    Gurken charged the treant, roaring at the top of his lungs.   Pellonia circled around to the treant’s side, hoping to flank it.   Maximina raised the crossbow, aiming directly between its eyes.   Ohm casually strummed out a G major to superdominant A minor in a deceptive cadence, setting an appropriate theme for the encounter.
    Arcs of lightning crackled and shot out of the treant, knocking everyone to the ground.   The sound of splitting wood pierced the air as the treant burst into flames and pieces cascaded about, bits falling to the ground still aflame.
    “Tiiiiiimmmmmbbbbbeeeerrrrr!” came a familiar shout from within the hole.   An orb flew out of the pit, lightning sizzling around it.   Another three orbs rose after it over the rubble, fire crackled, ice creaked, and light glowed, from the orbs.   Arthur climbed out of the pit, followed by Rufus, an elven woman, and a mysterious hooded figure.   They stood around the pit looking at the fallen treant, smiling and laughing amongst themselves.
    “Arthur?” Pellonia asked, shaking her head to clear it, and standing up.
    Arthur turned to look at her, he smirked.
    “Well, well, well,” Arthur said.   “What have we here?   Pell-own-ia.   And, there’s Gurken.   And some other fools along with you?”
    The elven woman walked up behind Arthur and put an arm over his shoulder.   “Hello, Pel,” she said.   It was Melody, Pellonia’s older sister.
    Pellonia’s eyes grew wide.   “I thought you left on the elven ship, with one of the other Pellonias.”
    Melody smiled, a self-satisfied malignant smile, nothing like the light