In the early rainy morning, before even the sun began to rise, a large group of people were gathering near the village of Nor’mad. The group consisted of a variety of adventurers who looked surprisingly happy and awake. One person though looked like a walking corpse, with dark-deep bags under his eyes, a stumbling gait, and a scruffy outfit. Ryerson was not a morning person, usually waking up mid-day, and even then he needed his morning coffee.
The village of Nor’mad was no longer a village but instead, a giant pile of smoldering ash. For the ten minutes Ryerson had been trudging through mud, he already hated this quest. The company around him kept asking questions, too many questions. At the same time Ryerson’s boots were getting soggy with all the mud on the ground, aggravating him further. The people around him were too chipper for how early in the morning it was. Overall the quest seemed to be rapidly taking a nose-dive into the rubbish bin.
“Listen up everyone!” a large, boisterous man spoke up, pausing before continuing. “Anyone who finds any clues or knows where the raiders are, report to-” Suddenly a loud roar came from above. The roar was not like anything any of the adventurers have heard of before. The roar was more mighty, more vicious, more cruel sounding than anything they had ever heard. The adventurers looked above them where the roar was coming from, only to see something from the legends of old. A dragon had appeared before them, with a hungry look in its eyes. Behind it held even more of the beasts, smaller in size, but looking no less deadly.
The group of adventures were frozen in terror, the dragons in the air were massive, with large claws and teeth visible from even so high above them. No one could speak. No one could breathe. The mighty dragons that were descending upon had such a pressure, the pressure stopped any resistance, any thought of escape.
“Move!” Someone shouted within the crowd, breaking the spell that was upon them. Chaos and fear let loose as everyone scrambled to escape. The village of Nor’mad however was located in the prairies with wide open fields, there was nowhere to hide. Ryerson ran towards the mages, already beginning to chant spells of protection. As he dashed, in the corner of his eye he saw the boy who had run into him earlier struggling to fend for himself against a smaller beast. He was going to be ripped apart. Without a second thought Ryerson ran towards the boy, and with a thrust of his sword he stabbed at the baby dragon, the sword did not even pierce its skin. The dragon noticing Ryerson, lunged towards him, managing to catch his arm. This distraction allowed the boy to get away.
Ryerson screamed in agony as his arm was torn off, the pain was not like anything he had experienced before. The pain was so much that he could not even think. The dragon in front of him devoured his arm in one gulp, he could see the bulge of his arm go down the creature's throat. A fire-ball came and hit the dragon on the snout, momentarily distracting the monster, the distraction gave enough time for Ryerson to stumble away.
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The people around him were having even worse luck, the mighty beasts were breathing fire, entire groups of people were screaming as their flesh was burned off their bones but not enough to kill them instantly. Some other adventurers were trying to fight back against the monsters surrounding them, most of them were getting overwhelmed by their sheer brutal savagery. Ryerson tried not to pay attention to the dying people around him, all he knew was that he had to escape.
Ryerson stumbled as the blood loss was getting to him, he did not stop moving forward though. The flames around him licked at his heels, begging him to just give in. The dragons chased him, chased him like it was a game of cat and mouse. There seemed to be no escape from this hell hole. The wide open fields provided no cover, no rock or building to hide behind to recoup his strength. All there was was burning, and the smell of cooked flesh. Not stopping for a single moment Ryerson ran. He ran, and ran, and ran.
Suddenly a voice called out to him, “Mister!” Ryerson turned and saw the boy he had saved running towards him with a girl. “Lay him down she said, I’ll provide cover” “Alright” he replied. Grudgingly, Ryserson let the boy handle him, he hated being pitied and looked down upon but right now he had no choice. “Lay still, this will hurt a bit,” said the boy. Ryserson squinted his eyes shut, as the boy began the incantation. He screamed. He screamed so loudly the dragons had heard him over all the other screams in the field and began to swarm them. “You’d better hurry, I can’t hold them off forever!” yelled the girl as she fired enchanted arrows at the beasts. “All done,” said the boy. Ryerson looked at his arm, it reminded him of the tree stump he used to see every morning in his parents house, a lonely burnt lifeless stump.
“Let’s get a move on!” yelled the girl as Ryerson and the boy stood up and began to run. “Where are we going?!” yelled Ryerson over the sound of roaring and the beating of wings. “To the East! There is an old archery camp I trained at as a child, there we will be safe.” she said as she pointed to the forest at the edge of the field. “Where’s Heimdall?!” yelled the boy. “He is already there, come quickly!” she replied.
“Who the hell is Heimdall, and who in the hell are you” Ryerson yelled at the two strangers in front of him. “Just keep moving,” the girl said. The group continued moving, the dragons behind them seemed to have gotten their meal for the day. Ryerson’s every step caused his left shoulder to throb, the cauterization not helping the pain at all.
Ryerson barely kept up the pace with the two people in front of him. The exhaustion finally made itself known. The mud beneath his feet made running a slog to get through. He could just barely see the old archery range in a small clearing of the forest, it was like an inkblot on a piece of paper.
He was almost there now, the people ahead of him looked even more weary than he did, and he was missing an arm. The clothing the two were wearing was stained with dirt, mud, and blood. The range was just ahead of him now, just a couple more meters until safety. Ryerson continued to run with the group, he abruptly stumbled and collapsed face first on the ground. The two strangers ahead of him looked back at the sudden noise and saw Ryerson passed out in the mud. They quickly picked him up and continued on their way to the range, finally finding a place to rest.