Stark gripped his massive, two-headed axes tight, one in each hand. From his vantage point atop the cliff, he could see the entirety of the once proud city. Far beneath him he could see the great, red dragons soaring among the many spires and pointed roofs of the city. He could see the dragons breathing great gouts of flame that set the city ablaze. He could see the inhabitants scurry around in the streets, desperately trying to flee from the beasts. It was clear they would not succeed. Stark cracked his neck, sank into a crouch and jumped.
For a moment he hung suspended in the air, thousands of feet above ground. Then he fell. Wind ripped at his long, braided blonde hair and beard. It ripped at his axes and his armor of boiled leather beneath his scalemail hauberk. The roar of the wind deafened him, but he did not to hear. He just needed to aim. Head first, arms at his sides, he twisted his body to aim for the nearest dragon. As he came closer, he came to realize how truly enormous they were. At least a hundred yards from firebreathing head to spiked tail, and a wingspan of twice that. As a meteor falling from the heavens, he came crashing down towards the dragon's back. Moments before impact, he brought his axes around and, his massives biceps bulging with the effort, swung them down. He heard a sickening crunch at the same time he felt the dragon's spine snap from the impact of his descent. His axes bit deep, the razor-sharp edges cutting through dragonscale, flesh and bone. When he pulled them out, blood spurted from the wounds. Before the sizzling, red liquid had touched him, Stark had taken off, running along the now falling dragon's back, toward its head. Despite running on a dragon in free fall, his ran sure and straight, not stumbling once.
When he reached the base of the base of the dragon's neck, he leaped forward, falling alongside the dying beast's head, its wings still flapping feebly. His right axe lashed out, catching the dragon just below one enormous, glowing eye. The axe caught bone, lodging itself firmly in the dragon's skull. Hanging from one hand, Stark gave a great heave on the axe, pulling the dragon's head down and to the left. The dragon shuddered and went silent as it plummeted towards the city. More dragons were circling beneath them, Stark could see. He swung himself around and planted his feet on either side of his axe. Moments before the falling dragon collided with another, he pulled the axe free and leaped once more. He heard the roar of pain from the unfortunate dragon as it was crushed beneath its falling compatriot. Dragons snapped at him as he fell, and when one of them got too close, he let his axe bite into bone once more. The dragon snapped its head back, pulling him with it. It roared and tried to claw at him, but he swung his other axe up as he pulled the first one free. Pulling himself up, he dodged the dragon's claws, each of them as long as he was tall. He started climbing up the dragon's skull, using his axes as picks as he pulled the first axe free and swung the other around, throwing himself upwards. He was covered in blood, his beard and hair a glistening, crimson mess. He reached the top of the dragon's head. He stood astride it, gripping one of its horns as it tried to throw him off. Hundreds of dragons were attacking the city. With a great swipe, he cut off the dragon horn he was holding. He planted his axes in the dragon's thick hide and picked up the horn. It was a full two meters tall and thick as a tree trunk. He swung it around, the gleaming tip facing down. He roared and plunged the horn into the dragon's head, skewering it. It did not make a sound as it died. He wrenched his axes free and leaped once more. As he passed within hands reach of a dragon, he lashed out with both axes, cutting one of its wings clean off. It immediately started spinning towards the ground, roaring in pain. He started picking up speed as he fell, lashing out at dragons who came too close. Suddenly, a dragon came barrelling into him, knocking his axes out of his hands. He turned around so he fell face up and looked at the beast. It snapped at him, massive jaws with rows of gleaming white fangs cutting through the air around him. He spun in the air, the dragon's head flying past him. He grabbed it around the neck and squeezed. He squeezed until he felt the vertebrae snap. He let go and looked down. He was no more than 50 yards from the ground. He twisted upright, feet first and with a sound like a thunderclap, he hit the ground, still standing.