Beware the Dragon

[FlemishSupremacy 4930]

Beware the Dragon

Men were gathered in a camp, huddled together by fireplaces, looking over their weapons, cracking jokes and talking with one another. They were part of the army of a western kingdom, sent out here to deal with the dragon sighted in the mountains in the north of the Kingdom. The army consisted of brave young men and grizzled veterans of many conflicts. Unfortunately, a dragon sighting was quite rare, and as such, this was the first time any of them had the opportunity to face such a magnificent foe. 

 

Without exception, all of them imagined themselves to be the next dragonslayer. They’d no doubt be a hero, with untold riches and fame at their fingertips, if they could get that killing blow or shot on the mighty beast. From the footmen, to the archers, to the siege engineers in the back, and most of all, the mighty lord on his horse, clad in gilded armor, leading this army; all of them would spend the night dreaming of the glory that would surely be theirs the next day. 

 

When dawn broke, the army awoke, and started their trek towards the foot of the mountain, not too far away from the camp. Arrayed into neat battle lines, they would slowly advance up the mountain.Tightly packed infantry, wielding shields, swords and polearms, clad in well kept armour and sporting their kingdom’s colours. They were about halfway up the slope when the dragon, which had been watching them as they approached, took to the skies, causing a good number of surprised cries to rise from the ranks of footmen. Their captains managed to steel their resolve, and they braced themselves, ready for the dragon to land so they could bring it down with their steel! 

 

The dragon, however, did not land. Instead, it circled overhead for a short while, before making a dive towards the mass of infantry, before flying overhead, spraying the men below with deadly fire, incinerating them, and melting their once proud weapons and armour into useless pieces of metal scrap. Those young brave men who dreamed of being the one to drive a sword into the dragon’s skull and claim it for themselves were now naught but ash. Their comrades that hadn’t been consumed in the blaze were witness to it all, and very few managed to muster the courage to stand their ground. They who had dreamed to face off with the dragon on the ground had those hopes quickly dashed. The dragon did not lower itself to the level of the common footman. It did not fight on their terms.

 

The archers gathered behind the lines of infantry saw the dragon dive, and upon their captain’s commands, the various regiments of archers readied their bows, and fired arrows towards the dragon. Many of these men were crackshots, having trained hours upon hours to get those bullseyes on the target practicing ranges, or being prime hunters from their villages. But no matter how good of a hunter, a dragon is not prey. Instead, he reversed the roles, and soon fell upon the archers, who’s arrows either failed to hit the fast moving dragon, or simply bounced off it’s scales. Claws and flames decimated the archers, who soon started to rout in a similar manner to the infantry. Once hunters had now become prey to the draconic being!

 

The siege engineers, seeing the chaos before them, worked hastily to bring the might of their warmachines to bear, firing ballista bolts and boulders in the direction of the dragon. However, they proved cumbersome to aim when faced with such an agile target. These engineers, who had so much success against stone fortifications were now forced to watch helplessly as the dragon swooped up their warmachines in his claws, dropping it again like a child might discard a toy a little distance further. Other machines were swiftly turned into bonfires by the dragon’s flames, and many engineers perished trying to defend their machines, or in their attempts to flee the scene. For all their ingenuity and power, it seemed that they were no match for the natural skill and strength possessed by a dragon.

 

Amidst this all, there was the mighty lord on his horse, clad in his gilded armor. He watched on in horror as his army was decimated and his chance at great glory and fame went up in flames. In desperation, he rode around, shouting at his men to return to their battle line and continue the fight, to no avail. It did not take long for the gilded armour, glittering in the morning sun to catch the dragon’s eye… And soon, the mighty lord on his horse came to the realisation that all his worldly might, his riches and his influence would prove useless and worthless in just a second. The dragon, not shy to collect the occasional trophy for his hoard, swiped the lord and his horse, killing them both. After having claimed his trophy, he returned to his mountain lair!

[Werew0lf 12021]

A towering creature read over the parchment, eventually responding with hollers. Much like the elves, he threw the parchment into burgeon flames.

 

“This will do!” He nodded towards the scum-elf.

[Nowak 877]

Oswald can't imagine the dragons, as he hasn't seen one nor can read about them.