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MY STORY {No Title Right Now}

"Look out I say!" screamed the high-elven Cleric, as fire spumed out of the black dragon's mouth. She blocked the flame as it soared towards one of her comrades. It burned her glinting shield, making it hot against her gloved fingers. In pain, she dropped the shield to the ground, and leaped out of the way as more flame bursted towards her. "Damn! Where is that Knight when you need him?" shouted one of the casters who called himself the Midnight Sorceror, while casting a spell into the dragon's eyes. It's eyes flared back into it's skull in agony. "He's a dwarf," roared the Cleric, "it's always better late than never for him!" Suddenly, a very large and very loud battle cry echoed throughout the cave. "Oi! Ye bloodt dragon, I'm going to slice off yer head when I get down there!" screamed the dwarvin Knight. His axe ginted in the dim light in the cave. Quickly, he jumped down from his perch on one of the cave ledges. His axe sliced through the dragon's scaley body as he swooped down. Tearing it's head clear off of it's neck joint. Blood flew everywhere, landing on the attackers below. "Well, at least we know he's here." muttered the Midnight Soceror, whiping the blood from his cheek. Finally, the Knight landed on the solid hard earth below. "Did ye miss me?" he asked. Cleric and Sorceror sighed. "You pick the most unpredictable times to show up Grimgri." groaned the Cleric. "Ninde, you should know by now that I will never let me comrades die." said Grimgri. "In time." came a solmn reponse from the distance. "No one asked for yer opinon wood elf." growled Grimgri as he turned towards the wood elf ranger. "Is that a fact?" asked the elf.
Ninde rolled her eyes in disgust. "As a matter of fact Silthlin it is. Not that you can do anything about it since you were the only one not fightining." she stated. Silthin glared at the high elf, his blood rising. "Enough, both of you." growled the Midnight Soceror, his golden eyes staring straight through them. Then he turned around. He was an Ithkara, or "Dragon People" as their native tongue referred to them. He had the same scales, wings and claws as a dragon, but his heart of pure made him different. His name was Thirinike, but most, as a state of respect called him the Midnight Sorcerer. Thinrinke closed his eyes. Ninde glanced at Silthlin, her hazel eyes burning through his weak soul. Grimgri watched the elves battle against one another in silence. Finally, Silthlin gave up his meaningless battle and began to walk away. Ninde, smiled slightly in satisfaction. "Come on ye two, we've got to get out of here." warned Grimgri. Elf, dragon and high elf reluently followed the dwarf out of the cave.
Night covered the sky and land around them, like a blanket of darkness. Trees swayed in the cool breeze. Stars tatooed the black emptiness that swirled above their heads. Ninde closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the sweet summer aroma. Grimgri, Thirinke and Silthlin followed behind her. Thirinke wrinkled his nose in disgust. "It smells, like pine." he stated.