|Death|Fire|
The sirens wailed through the night shattering all sense of peacefulness and safety. The warning bells rang in anger, warning all to hear that danger was close. To the right side of the furthest watchtower to the West came the first noise of the attacker, a keening sound so high that the knights all but missed it and if not for the dogs beside them flattening their ears and growling audibly in the direction of the keening, then the warriors would never have known in what direction the were being attacked. The keening was the first sign of an attack, not including sightings of course. The next sign was the flashes of colour streaking across the dark black sky, blues, reds, greens, golds. By then the soldiers would have readied their weapons, if with their bodies shaking with fright, each and everyone of them refused to go down without a fight. The West watch tower were the first to brave the flames, the first to throw and shoot their weapons, yet even with arrows and spears only one man lived through the first encounter of the night. He lived long enough to see the dragon who made his comrades fall, the man's own brother among them. He started into the creatures eyes, pure malice in his gaze, he snarled at the dragon as he threw his only dagger, his last weapon at the dragon. The dagger lodged itself in between two of it's armour plates and it stared at the man who had hate clear in his features with a new interest. Golden blood ran from where the dagger lay, yet the dragon didn't bat an eye. The man before him was the first man in the dragons hundred and three years to ever be able to draw blood from him and though he now held respect for this man alone he new of the duty that he had to do to save his kind from murder. The man stared into the dragons yellow flecked eyes for what seemed like hours until he too burned from the dragons fire.
And you thought dragons didn't exist...
