The dragon flies fast before a torrent of magic streams from the war priestess. Massive winds erupt around, the breeze pulling the parties cloaks and hair blowing ina most dramatic manner but hurling the dragon tumbling backwards through the air out of control. Even as it tries to spin and fly with the wind a mass of glowing tentacles rise from the swamp and ensnare and with a thunderous splash and pathetic mewling the dragon slams into the mud with a splatter of mud wrapped in the shimmering chains that hold her fast.

A bellowed "RELEASE ME, RELEASE ME OR FACE MY WRATH..." soon fades to a more pathetic and low pitched hissing tone, "Release me, I beg you. I shall leave this land and fly a thousand league from here. You and your blood shall never see me again. My mother's warren lies close and her hoard can be yours..." The dragon's pleading at once both pathetic and a lie. Both Elkist and Mirriana realise that although it tells the truth that it will leave this place and leave the hoard, it will likley spend a decade plotting vengenace and return.

Zarina flies down beside Lan and hovers in the air, her hair streaming out behind her. "This creature is pathetic, but is a thing born of evil. Who knows how many innocents it has slain Constable. We should kill it here and call it justice." A sshe speaks fire blooms in her eyes and she stands ready to do it for Mirriana.