Flight and Reward
Posted: Tue Apr 26, 2005 2:34 pm
Tinago kept his palm pressed down into the ground. On either side, bits of dirt and small rocks vibrated back and forth. Sgt. Barrows stood over his shoulder, waiting for some indication as to what could be causing the rumbling of the ground. An entire herd of animals stampeding in step? That was the only explanation that Tinago could possibly fathom. It made no sense to him. Further behind the pair, Finn and Guth muttered soothing words to the mounts that'd brought them through the trees. Each of the horses was nervous, pawing the earth with tails swishing back and forth constantly.
The sides still heaved up and down as it struggled for breath. The annoyance it felt still permeated the surrounding air. The little pests still circled at a distance. None of them, with their glittery and long reaching claws, were daring to come close. They'd come from the trees and tried to interrupt its meal. Pests. Nothing more. Soon, it'd rise up and finish them off.
Guth had shouted in surprise as a tree suddenly plunged sideways. All four men pivoted towards the explosion of noise. Finn had been closest and had just turned when the horse he'd been soothing reared. The flying hooves had sent the guardsman tumbling to the ground. That alone, spared Finn from the fate that befell the horse. The head was monstrous, as it emerged from the darkness afforded by the foliage. It'd snapped forward, with teeth as large as short blades, and clamped down on the horse as it tried to pivot and run. The horse screamed as it was cleaved in two.
Kilborn tried to gather breath. Tried to pull enough words and consciousness together to offer reassurance to those that surrounded him. Tried to fathom some form of motivation that would lessen the horror that'd been inflicted upon the guardsmen. Someone close was crying. He couldn't concentrate enough to turn and find out who.
Guth had paused only long enough to draw his blade, before charged the emerging monster. Glittering flash of steel caught the monster's attention, and it pivotted towards the guardsman. One of the giant legs it stood on was brought forth, crashing into Guth and driving the man into the ground.
Tinago had barely risen to his feet when Barrows began shouting at him. The Sgt. stood on one side, feet firmly planted in the ground with the reins of the last horse held tightly. Tinago couldn't even recall mounting the horse, but held on as the panicked beast raced home, the echoes of Barrows' cry of Dragon within his ears.
A trickle of blood ran past Kilborn's foot, pooling in a depression underneath some nearby leaves. Breathing was still difficult, and he couldn't quite seem to catch his breath. Gaze turned downward for a moment, and then began to follow the crimson trail upwards. His sight paused for a moment on one object the blood swirled around. A tattered sleeve bearing Straka's emblem. Most of the arm was still in it. His stomach lurched for a second, and then his eyes moved further up.
Tinago had a moment of confusion as he arrived within the gaol. The bustle of activity was unusual given the time of day and expectation. He was unaware of the vigilance of the watchmen. Of the impression a gallopping horse, bearing a solitary patrol member instilled amongst them. Within Myrken, it was best to be prepared for the worst. Tinago uttered one word, before allowing consciousness to slip from his own mind. Succumbing to the darkness of forgetfulness
Three pikes protruded from the monster. Two were lodged deeply within its belly, and another throbbed with each breath that the creature took. At least a half dozen arrows protruded from other portions of its scaly hide, though that didn't account for the multitude that'd shattered on the thick skin. The monster's breathing matched Kilborn's own. Both were struggling.
Sgt. Barrows rested against the tree, struggling to maintain consciousness as he watched the dragon tear meat off the horse's hindquarters. A dozen feet further away, the other half of the horse continued to twitch, as though it could still flee. Guth's crushed body lay motionless. Finn had regained his feet to join Sgt. Barrows in an futile attack. Now most of Finn was in the dragon's belly. Sgt. Barrows had bounced off the monster's teeth. The gaping wounds on his chest were evidence of that. Through the hazy sight that he was still permitted, he thought he saw the ghosts of the riders who were coming to collect his spirit.
Kilborn's foot felt like lead, as he drew it up and placed it a pace in front of his current position. The jolt of landing send waves of pain surging through his chest and body. Something was definitely wrong, though he had no time to consider it at the moment. The Order saw their Lieutenant moving again, and this spurred them to motion as well. The crying stopped.
It had paid them no heed as they'd arrived. It had been unconcerned about the latest snacks as they made their way out of the trees. The minor scratches that it had taken in the brief scuffle before were nothing more than the faintest of nuissances. The monster simply didn't consider them a threat. Then the Order charged.
The Lieutenant didn't stop as he rounded the prone monster slowly. Circling around and making a gradual approach from behind the great beast. Kilborn paused for a moment, as he sensed it struggled to turn over. If it rolled, it would easily crush the Lieutenant, and he had little interest in dying in such a fashion. The effort proved too much for the beast however, and it settled again, resuming laboured breathing. Kilborn pursued his approach further, and eventually drew up behind the monster.
There had been no strategy, no preparation. The men had lowered their pikes and rushed their mounts forward. The monster had spun at the last moment, deflecting the first two pikes and knocking one rider from his steed. The second rider screamed as all but an arm was caught within the grasp of the teeth. Kilborn had been the third rider and found his pike sliding along the protective scales as he leaned away from the snapping jaw. Kilborn couldn't dodge the tail that slapped him from his mount when the monster spun around to strike at another rider. Archers pulling up the rear strung up their bows and took aim.
It was unlike any dragon that Kilborn had ever seen. The eye that rotated backwards to try to see the guardsman was filled with bestial rage. No intelligence lurked there. Were there dragons of this nature? Surely recent events suggested that there were dragons of all varying nature, but something struck Kilborn as unusual about this one. Its combat abilities had proven more than admirable however. Guth, Finn, and three others were dead. Barrows lived yet, though with the amount of blood lost, it was uncertain if he would survive the night. Nsl'ii, a westerner had survived, but had lost below her knee when she'd been too slow to roll aside.
Kilborn couldn't remember staggering to his feet, or clutching up the pike again. He vaguely recalled screaming as he charged on foot. How he'd managed to get past the defenses was a blur, but he'd been jarred to a stop when the pike sunk into the monster's belly. Stunned, he spun through the air when the beast's turning head smacked into him. He dimly recalled landing the tree trunk he'd landed on.
Drawing the sword was another experience in aches and pains he would rather not experience in the near future. Air still laboured to fill his lungs. He found himiself closing his eyes for a moment, and fighting the redness that sought to overwhelm him. It was easier to draw in short gasps rather than full breaths. Slowly, the Lieutenant straightened up and made the sword ready.
It had roared then. Anger and annoyance finally given voice, and proved to be its undoing. Even as it bellowed, another rider caught it on the side. Pike cutting just below the surface of the flesh, but the gush of blood that trailed after spoke of something important struck. It'd lashed out, foot striking horse and rider, sending both sprawling. Then an arrow penetrated its hide. Another cry of rage towards the "food". This cry was retaliated with a second arrow penetrating its flesh. It had fallen then.
The blade's point plunged downward, skittering over the slick scales and landing near Kilborn's booted foot. A blink of surprise on Kilborn's face, before he could recover from the embarrassment and raise the blade again. This time when he plunged it down, it was with enough force to drive it through the skin and into flesh below.
They had been too hasty in their congratulations and approach. It'd struggled to its feet again and made the Order regret its heroism. Boldly they'd strode forward, thinking it spent. Like a warrior feigning an injury, it'd surprised them and regained its feet swiftly. One guardsman had lost his life immediately. More arrows peppered the beast's side, some penetrating, some not. This time, Nsl'ii rushed forward to push her pike in alongside Kilborn's. The beast had spun and lashed out at her as well. Her tumble to the side did not prove as swift as she'd hoped. It'd staggered forward a step to pursue Nsl'ii, but another caught her arm and dragged her out of reach. The beast had fallen then.
The sunlight flickered off silver and liquid red as Kilborn raised the blade above once more. Speckles danced about the clearing for a few moments, catching the sight of the guardsmen as they tended those that could be tended, and muttered prayers over those that couldn't.
Kilborn plunged the blade down into the flesh once more. Then again after that, and once more following that strike. The dragon sputtered one last gurgled breath, and then exhaled and was still.
It was done.
The sides still heaved up and down as it struggled for breath. The annoyance it felt still permeated the surrounding air. The little pests still circled at a distance. None of them, with their glittery and long reaching claws, were daring to come close. They'd come from the trees and tried to interrupt its meal. Pests. Nothing more. Soon, it'd rise up and finish them off.
Guth had shouted in surprise as a tree suddenly plunged sideways. All four men pivoted towards the explosion of noise. Finn had been closest and had just turned when the horse he'd been soothing reared. The flying hooves had sent the guardsman tumbling to the ground. That alone, spared Finn from the fate that befell the horse. The head was monstrous, as it emerged from the darkness afforded by the foliage. It'd snapped forward, with teeth as large as short blades, and clamped down on the horse as it tried to pivot and run. The horse screamed as it was cleaved in two.
Kilborn tried to gather breath. Tried to pull enough words and consciousness together to offer reassurance to those that surrounded him. Tried to fathom some form of motivation that would lessen the horror that'd been inflicted upon the guardsmen. Someone close was crying. He couldn't concentrate enough to turn and find out who.
Guth had paused only long enough to draw his blade, before charged the emerging monster. Glittering flash of steel caught the monster's attention, and it pivotted towards the guardsman. One of the giant legs it stood on was brought forth, crashing into Guth and driving the man into the ground.
Tinago had barely risen to his feet when Barrows began shouting at him. The Sgt. stood on one side, feet firmly planted in the ground with the reins of the last horse held tightly. Tinago couldn't even recall mounting the horse, but held on as the panicked beast raced home, the echoes of Barrows' cry of Dragon within his ears.
A trickle of blood ran past Kilborn's foot, pooling in a depression underneath some nearby leaves. Breathing was still difficult, and he couldn't quite seem to catch his breath. Gaze turned downward for a moment, and then began to follow the crimson trail upwards. His sight paused for a moment on one object the blood swirled around. A tattered sleeve bearing Straka's emblem. Most of the arm was still in it. His stomach lurched for a second, and then his eyes moved further up.
Tinago had a moment of confusion as he arrived within the gaol. The bustle of activity was unusual given the time of day and expectation. He was unaware of the vigilance of the watchmen. Of the impression a gallopping horse, bearing a solitary patrol member instilled amongst them. Within Myrken, it was best to be prepared for the worst. Tinago uttered one word, before allowing consciousness to slip from his own mind. Succumbing to the darkness of forgetfulness
Three pikes protruded from the monster. Two were lodged deeply within its belly, and another throbbed with each breath that the creature took. At least a half dozen arrows protruded from other portions of its scaly hide, though that didn't account for the multitude that'd shattered on the thick skin. The monster's breathing matched Kilborn's own. Both were struggling.
Sgt. Barrows rested against the tree, struggling to maintain consciousness as he watched the dragon tear meat off the horse's hindquarters. A dozen feet further away, the other half of the horse continued to twitch, as though it could still flee. Guth's crushed body lay motionless. Finn had regained his feet to join Sgt. Barrows in an futile attack. Now most of Finn was in the dragon's belly. Sgt. Barrows had bounced off the monster's teeth. The gaping wounds on his chest were evidence of that. Through the hazy sight that he was still permitted, he thought he saw the ghosts of the riders who were coming to collect his spirit.
Kilborn's foot felt like lead, as he drew it up and placed it a pace in front of his current position. The jolt of landing send waves of pain surging through his chest and body. Something was definitely wrong, though he had no time to consider it at the moment. The Order saw their Lieutenant moving again, and this spurred them to motion as well. The crying stopped.
It had paid them no heed as they'd arrived. It had been unconcerned about the latest snacks as they made their way out of the trees. The minor scratches that it had taken in the brief scuffle before were nothing more than the faintest of nuissances. The monster simply didn't consider them a threat. Then the Order charged.
The Lieutenant didn't stop as he rounded the prone monster slowly. Circling around and making a gradual approach from behind the great beast. Kilborn paused for a moment, as he sensed it struggled to turn over. If it rolled, it would easily crush the Lieutenant, and he had little interest in dying in such a fashion. The effort proved too much for the beast however, and it settled again, resuming laboured breathing. Kilborn pursued his approach further, and eventually drew up behind the monster.
There had been no strategy, no preparation. The men had lowered their pikes and rushed their mounts forward. The monster had spun at the last moment, deflecting the first two pikes and knocking one rider from his steed. The second rider screamed as all but an arm was caught within the grasp of the teeth. Kilborn had been the third rider and found his pike sliding along the protective scales as he leaned away from the snapping jaw. Kilborn couldn't dodge the tail that slapped him from his mount when the monster spun around to strike at another rider. Archers pulling up the rear strung up their bows and took aim.
It was unlike any dragon that Kilborn had ever seen. The eye that rotated backwards to try to see the guardsman was filled with bestial rage. No intelligence lurked there. Were there dragons of this nature? Surely recent events suggested that there were dragons of all varying nature, but something struck Kilborn as unusual about this one. Its combat abilities had proven more than admirable however. Guth, Finn, and three others were dead. Barrows lived yet, though with the amount of blood lost, it was uncertain if he would survive the night. Nsl'ii, a westerner had survived, but had lost below her knee when she'd been too slow to roll aside.
Kilborn couldn't remember staggering to his feet, or clutching up the pike again. He vaguely recalled screaming as he charged on foot. How he'd managed to get past the defenses was a blur, but he'd been jarred to a stop when the pike sunk into the monster's belly. Stunned, he spun through the air when the beast's turning head smacked into him. He dimly recalled landing the tree trunk he'd landed on.
Drawing the sword was another experience in aches and pains he would rather not experience in the near future. Air still laboured to fill his lungs. He found himiself closing his eyes for a moment, and fighting the redness that sought to overwhelm him. It was easier to draw in short gasps rather than full breaths. Slowly, the Lieutenant straightened up and made the sword ready.
It had roared then. Anger and annoyance finally given voice, and proved to be its undoing. Even as it bellowed, another rider caught it on the side. Pike cutting just below the surface of the flesh, but the gush of blood that trailed after spoke of something important struck. It'd lashed out, foot striking horse and rider, sending both sprawling. Then an arrow penetrated its hide. Another cry of rage towards the "food". This cry was retaliated with a second arrow penetrating its flesh. It had fallen then.
The blade's point plunged downward, skittering over the slick scales and landing near Kilborn's booted foot. A blink of surprise on Kilborn's face, before he could recover from the embarrassment and raise the blade again. This time when he plunged it down, it was with enough force to drive it through the skin and into flesh below.
They had been too hasty in their congratulations and approach. It'd struggled to its feet again and made the Order regret its heroism. Boldly they'd strode forward, thinking it spent. Like a warrior feigning an injury, it'd surprised them and regained its feet swiftly. One guardsman had lost his life immediately. More arrows peppered the beast's side, some penetrating, some not. This time, Nsl'ii rushed forward to push her pike in alongside Kilborn's. The beast had spun and lashed out at her as well. Her tumble to the side did not prove as swift as she'd hoped. It'd staggered forward a step to pursue Nsl'ii, but another caught her arm and dragged her out of reach. The beast had fallen then.
The sunlight flickered off silver and liquid red as Kilborn raised the blade above once more. Speckles danced about the clearing for a few moments, catching the sight of the guardsmen as they tended those that could be tended, and muttered prayers over those that couldn't.
Kilborn plunged the blade down into the flesh once more. Then again after that, and once more following that strike. The dragon sputtered one last gurgled breath, and then exhaled and was still.
It was done.