Death of the Green Dragon

A piercing shriek tore through the air as the giant swung the jagged rock. Though dull on its own, imbued with the brute's immense strength, it tore a gaping wound across the green dragon's underbelly. Consumed by agony, the dragon lashed out, its razor-sharp claws securing the giant's head. With a gaping maw, it unleashed a torrent of searing dragonfire directly onto the giant's torso. For a fleeting moment, a noise of crackling flames, ear-splitting roars, and the giant's anguished roar filled the air, painting a scene of brutal desperation.

However, like dragons, giants boast a natural resilience. Their coarse hide rivaled the sturdiness of Witcher-crafted studded leather, impervious to most blades without a powerful thrust. Though the dragon's fiery breath inflicted excruciating pain and burns, it failed to deliver a mortal blow.

Incensed by the searing torment, the giant's fury intensified. With a thunderous roar, it grappled the wounded dragon, hoisting it high above its head before slamming it with earth-shattering force onto a jagged boulder meters away. The injured dragon let out another agonizing screech.

It was at this moment that Borch, with Wayne and George, arrived on the scene. Swooping down, he landed decisively between the enraged giant and the thrashing dragon, his imposing form acting as a barrier against the giant's advance. Towering even over the male green dragon, Borch's golden scales shimmered menacingly. His immense stature easily dwarfed the giant, reaching nearly twice its height. Meanwhile, Wayne, ever the opportunist, seized the chance as they descended. Leaping from the dragon back mid-air, he spotted a vulnerable Harpy and with a swift, practiced motion, plunged his electric blade into its unguarded side.

The searing electrum blade pierced the monstrous bird's back, ripping through to its chest. A burst of crackling energy arced outwards, transforming into a deadly chain lightning that struck the six nearby Harpies with brutal efficiency. Lured by the opportunity of the wounded Green Dragon, these scavengers met their demise alongside, all collapsing to the ground.

Wayne rolled to break the brunt of the fall. He squinted at the grievously wounded dragon. A gaping maw marred its abdomen, tearing through the hardened scales. Blood and flesh bulged outwards, exposing mangled organs. Even with powerful healing draughts, the creature's injuries seemed out of hand by any known medical means. However, the resilience of the draconic race ensured the beast wouldn't succumb immediately.

On the other side, George, partnered with Borch, faced a ferocious brawl with the giant. Borch's majestic Golden Dragon, despite its immense size, displayed remarkable agility. Trained in combat by the formidable Zerrikanian warriors, Borch's fighting prowess far surpassed that of most dragons who relied solely on brute instinct.

In this battle, Borch acted as both a living shield and a relentless attacker. While expertly dodging the giant's blows, Borch's dragon raked bloody gashes across the giant's flesh with its razor-sharp claws, swiftly drawing the enemy's focus.

Seizing this opportunity, George, who had minimized his form through illusion magic and stalked the giant unseen, materialized in a flash beneath the lumbering beast. Despite his seemingly unassuming physique, Regis unleashed a burst of unexpected power. The masterfully crafted sword in his hand, honed to terrifying sharpness, sliced viciously at the inner socket of the giant's right knee.

The giant's resilience was truly astounding. Even George's strength and the masterfully crafted steel sword could only pierce the outer hide and some muscle, failing to inflict a critical blow. The attack on the joint, however, did alert the beast. Bellowing in fury, it abandoned Borch, who had been drawing its attention. With a whip of its massive head, it swung a giant palm at George with surprising speed.

Borch, seizing the moment, puffed out his cheeks. A plume of scorching orange dragonfire erupted from his maw, engulfing the giant's side and setting its hair ablaze. As a proud Golden Dragon, his flames burned far hotter than those of a Green Dragon. The searing heat elicited a primal scream from the giant.

George, displaying remarkable agility, evaded the giant's grasping hand. With lightning-fast strikes, he landed several blows on the existing wound. With a final, satisfying snap, his blade severed the giant's right leg tendon and hamstring. The colossal beast crumpled to the ground, its immense weight no longer supported.

Capitalizing on this moment, Borch coiled his tail, transforming it into a fearsome bludgeon. With a mighty swing fueled by his own momentum, he smashed the giant's face with brutal force. The impact sent the giant sprawling, seemingly unconscious.

Dust settled, and the giant lay unmoving. George approached its head, his steel sword raised, its tip aimed at the creature's eye socket. He cast Wayne a questioning glance. "The giant is subdued," he declared. "Should we finish it, Wayne?"

Though Giants are rare and exhibit a degree of sentience, their inherent savagery, volatility, and aggression make them a menace. Omnivorous and possessing a monstrous appetite, they pose a constant threat to settlements.

Recalling the bestiary entry on Giants, Wayne remembered a time when humans were indeed prey. He was about to agree to George's suggestion, but the unfinished task at hand intervened. "Hold on," Wayne said. "The beast is unconscious. Let's question the Green Dragon before deciding its fate."

George considered this for a moment, then nodded. As Wayne's companion, and having severed the Giant's leg tendon himself, he wasn't in a position to argue. Dealing with the Giant could wait.

Borch lumbered towards the Green Dragon. A flicker of sadness crossed his eyes as he surveyed the gaping wound. He knew the creature was mortally wounded. Nonetheless, having come so far, they needed answers. The Golden Dragon lowered his head and began communicating with the dying Green Dragon in their mournful tongue.

At first, the Green Dragon seemed defiant, attempting to rise. But as its strength waned, it yielded to its fate and responded in weak draconic speech. The exchange between the two enormous dragons lasted for roughly ten minutes, a scene unlike anything most humans, or even Witchers, would ever witness.

Following their conversation, Borch let out a mournful cry. Then, in a swift movement, he clamped his dragon jaws around the Green Dragon's neck. Though the Green Dragon struggled briefly, it offered no fierce resistance. The sound of snapping bone was quickly muted.

After a tense silence, Borch's agitation seemed to subside. He released the Green Dragon and transformed back into his human form – a short, stout, curly-haired middle-aged man. Turning to Wayne, he spoke in a dejected tone, "My friend," Borch said, his voice heavy, "though I can't guarantee its entirety, the Green Dragon revealed everything it knew."

Wayne and George perked up at his words. Without Borch's ability to communicate with the beast, they'd have no way of knowing the truth.

"This dragon," Borch continued, "called himself Cardison Frix. He resided in the southern Velen forests, keeping to himself for years."

"Five years ago, however," Borch explained, "he found a mate, a she-dragon, and together they had an offspring."

"But after giving birth," Borch said, "the mother abandoned Velen, leaving Cardison Frix to raise their young alone near Velen for five years."

"A few months ago, tragedy struck," Borch's voice grew grave. "Their child vanished, stolen by unknown hands."

"Desperate to find his heir," Borch went on, "Cardison Frix lashed out. Some who dared hunt him met a fiery end, while others fell victim to his rage."

"Just a fortnight ago," Borch said, "a whisper reached him – an accusation that the villagers of Lower Velen had taken his offspring, hiding it within this giant's lair."

"Traces of the young dragon were indeed found in the village," Borch confirmed, his gaze flickering to the unconscious giant on the ground. He then looked towards a large cave opening in the valley, a hint of dread in his eyes.

"Perhaps," Borch suggested, "we should investigate the giant's lair as soon as possible. The young dragon might truly be held captive there."

"Cardison Frix is gone now," Borch said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "The animosity between him and humans is over. If we find his child, I'll take it back to Zerrikania to raise it."

"My kin dwindles," Borch confessed. "Every child is a beacon of hope for our future."