DescriptionPhaedra the Deceiver is the third boss encounter for The Dragons' Claw (Area: Mirror, Mirror, in the Sky). As with all bosses, Phaedra the Deceiver can also be battled in a raid with 4 available levels: Normal, Hard, Legendary and Nightmare.
|Phaedra the Deceiver Essence||Used to summon Phaedra the Deceiver (Raid)||Phaedra the Deceiver quest boss|
|Chrome Bottle of Blood||Used to upgrade Mina von Richten to Mina von Richten2||Phaedra the Deceiver quest boss|
|Phaedra's Eye||Used to upgrade the mount Solus3||Quest Boss - Phaedra the Deceiver|
|Dark Drake Sabatons||100||90||123||90||Ebon Scales: Chance for bonus raid damage||Phaedra the Deceiver quest boss|
|Brown Dragon's Tooth||Craft x2 Stat Points||The Dragons' Claw raids, quests, help requests|
|Grey Dragon's Tooth||Craft x2 Stat Points||The Dragons' Claw raids, quests, help requests|
|Green Dragon's Tooth||Craft x2 Stat Points||The Dragons' Claw raids, quests, help requests|
|Blue Dragon's Tooth||Craft x2 Stat Points||The Dragons' Claw raids, quests, help requests|
|Purple Dragon's Tooth||Craft x2 Stat Points||The Dragons' Claw raids, quests, help requests|
|Orange Dragon's Tooth||Craft x2 Stat Points||The Dragons' Claw raids, quests, help requests|
|Your blade thuds against the dragon's eye. The resistance surprises you, sends a jarring force along your arm. Whatever form of armored or magic-infused flesh the eldritch eyeball's made from, it doesn't part beneath the steel. But the dragon's scream, the thrash of pain that racks her body, shows that she felt it nonetheless. She falls away from you, her wings failing her as agony ruins her flight.
The wyrm passes out of your sight as Solus continues on his trajectory. He rotates through the air once more, righting himself and setting the world around you back into its accustomed order. Your stomach trembles again as you fall back onto him -- though the solidness beneath your hindquarters is welcome indeed.
The surrounding skies are clearer now. All of the other large drakes are gone, the illusions banished. And only a fraction of the whelplings are left -- forced to face the full fury of your companions now that their simulacrums aren't there to draw blade and spell in their stead.
Solus darts round, reversing his flight and plunging into a downwards arc in one smooth motion -- facing you towards the argentine drake. Her wings have caught the air once more, arrested her descent and saved her silver body from smashing against the distant ground.
She roars, her two natural eyes glaring fury as the other blinks in pain. Then she lunges through the air, her silver bulk hurling itself upwards even as Solus' azure frame hurtles down to meet her.
Your companions are converging as well, fabulous beasts and arcane creations bearing them towards the enraged and thwarted drake.
|Flying is quite simply amazing. In your days of digging up turnips you could only dream of how exhilarating it would feel to leave the ground far below and arc your way through the heavens like a bird. Every time you take to the skies atop Solus, the two of you breaking free from the shackles that bind others to the surface of Tor'gyyl, you realize how privileged you are -- how the dangers and trials of your life are balanced out by its fabulous wonders.
But there are some drawbacks to aerial travel as well, certain grave risks which those who choose to slip the surly bonds of ground and reach into the clouds must accept. The silver dragon's current plight is a prime example of this.
The wyrm roars, anger pouring from her throat in engulfing torrents. But that's all she can manage -- for her damaged wings are grasping at the air with frantic flaps, barely able to keep her aloft let alone initiate an attack. She's fighting against the inevitable now, clutching to the last slivers of life like a miser watching coins slipping between her fingers into the chasm below.
Roland and Aesa dive towards her, their battle-trained pegasus heeding their commands rather than shying away from the monstrous beast. In times of war even the animals become inured to horror, hardened to terror. The winged steed, powerful adventurer, and beautiful shaman are all replicated within the mirrors of the dragon's scales. Their doppelgangers fly in the opposite direction, strangers passing in the sky never again to meet.
The pegasus' wings pull inward, pressed against its sides as it completes its trajectory of attack -- allowing its flank to almost brush the drake's silver wing, bringing its riders close enough to do their deadly work. White-gold light flashes from Aesa's left hand, a stream of divine illumination that splashes across the wing's surface as though bathing and marking it. Two blades, hers of steel and Roland's of crystal, plunge into the glowing stream. There's a faint rending, ripping noise as they penetrate the flesh beneath, its natural armor evidently softened by the shaman's ministrations.
The dragon screeches as the tear widens, the two swords opening a long, gaping rent across the length of her wing.
The pegasus dips away from the wyrm, unfurls its wings once more, and takes your companions upward. As they ascend, the dragon falls.
She screams, an almost human sound, and glares at you with desperate eyes. Those orbs remain locked on you even as she drops -- plunging from the heavens. Gravity, greedy creature that it is, must long have watched your aerial battle with salivating jowls and eager tongue. And now its patience is rewarded. Its claws have sunk deep into the silver dragon, capturing her and drawing her down towards its maw.
The dragon grows smaller, and smaller, and smaller. Soon she's no more than a whelpling -- robbed of her fearsome size and might by the rapidity of her descent. She's too far away for you to hear the full magnitude of the thud she makes when she strikes the ground. But the impact's force is evident nonetheless. It sends her upward once more, bouncing her into the air before slamming her down again -- leaving her argentine form a broken, motionless lump amidst the emerald grass.
"Well, this feels jolly familiar, what?" Archmage Winifred says.
You can only smile as you slip from Solus' saddle and join her beside the silver dragon's corpse.
"You don't know the half of it," you reply. "This is my third time today."
The archmage slaps you on the back.
"Well, you're the hero. Can't all be handsome princes and piles of treasure, I suppose."
"No... Though it would make a nice change every now and again."
She favors you with a second slap, knocking a good portion of the wind from your lungs.
"I'll arrange to have the corpse burned," Marcus says.
"Nonsense!" the archmage replies. "It should be studied. Did you see all that illusion malarkey up there? This dragon had magical secrets, and I'm going to see if I can dig them out."
"Oh... As you wish..."
"Don't worry. A few preservation spells should keep her in good shape, and stop the smell from getting too bad."
Marcus meets your gaze. The two of you shrug. Academics have their own special brand of lunacy. Speaking of which...
You glance around in search of one of your companions. He's a short distance away, crouching down beside the draconic carcass. His right hand is raised in the air as though he's swearing an oath, its ﬁngers wriggling. He stares at his reﬂection with a look of scholarly contemplation on his features. As you approach, he lowers the hand and grabs the red tome lying beside him.
"See?" Lucian says, pressing the open book towards the mirrored surface of the scale. "Even the text is the right way around. Fascinating."
"If you say so."
The scholar looks up at you, and evidently senses that something is amiss. He gets to his feet, closing the book and slipping it under his arm.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"What do you know about the Dragons' Claw?"
|"Damn it! Get us out of here!" you yell. "If the gods wanted me to fight in the air they would have given me wings!"
"They gave you a dragon instead," Solus replies.
You sigh. He's right... You need to destroy the silver drake.
- Normal -
- Hard -
- Legendary -
- Nightmare - 4320 HP, Max Damage 720