The big blue was shy of clouds. The sun scorched the baron sands. Sweetwater was lost in the soft sand storm that clouded Aegon's vision. The expedition took four days before he finally located the beast. Sand swept across the endless dunes, rolling along Aegon's armour. He stood before the beast, head held high and sword drawn. The clean sheen of the castle forged steel was lost in the waves of dust passing over the blade. His eyes peered through the narrow slot in his steel helm, the simple design made ominous as the face underneath was confined in shadows. The peak of the helm plated to form aggressive spikes, the custom of all Aetherian kingsguard armour. His breaths caught the venting that travelled down to the sharp chin at the base of the visor. He donned scratched and worn steel plate, complete with indentation and battle scarring from previous mercenary work. A coarse grey stone resided in Aegon's breastplate, an old family heirloom. He planted his boots firmly in the ground as he established his stance. The sharp winds ravaged the torn tan rags that draped from underneath the dilapidated metal. A scarce suggestion of chainmail, now broken links, secured his shoulders and legs. His pauldrons were engraved with a fiery design that plated up towards his neck. His fingers tightened around the wire wrapped handle of the Aetherian kingsguard longsword. The pommel was cast in bronze to match the chest piece on his breastplate. The thin fuller travelled halfway down the dusty blade. A tan cape extended down his left arm, concealing a studded club. Aegon was not threatened by the beast, of which the folk of Sweetwater had marked, Sand Strider. He shifted his stance and lowered his blade to examine the Strider. It towered over Aegon, it's horns fixed to it's cracked, stony head. The Strider stood at twice Aegon's height. Small pools of hair stained its shattered hide. Splinters emerged from its spine and flared. It bared its fangs and growled from deep within its core. The bright yellow of his eyes were separated by narrow, black pupils. Aegon spotted multiple areas of weakness. The neck seemed softer than the rest of its hide and the backs of its ankles were slim. He didn't have enough time to plan an attack. The beast would charge him soon. Improvise.
The growling shifted to an aggressive roar. Its legs lifted from the sand and barrelled towards Aegon. The jaw of the Strider expanded. The fangs were long and sharp. They could crush Aegon in his armour. He allowed the beast to get close and rolled to the left. The Strider buried its feet in the sand and came to a halting stop. Aegon charged the beast and held his sword out to strike. The Strider fixed its stance and braced. Aegon placed both hands on the blade and slashed towards the throat. Nothing. The steel sparked as it scraped against stone. The force was repelled back and Aegon lost his momentum. The Strider raised its hand and swung at Aegon. The blow sent him back thirty feet. His head rung and a high pitch blared in his ears. His sword was buried twenty feet away. He recovered from the blow and stood. He bolted for the blade as the Strider made its second attack. He slid and grabbed the blade quickly enough to parry beast's legs. The sword sparked off of it again as the beast ran straight through the attack. The Strider came to another halt. Aegon seized the opportunity to examine it again. The flesh under the hair seemed to contrast against the stone back. He'd strike there. He just has to get close enough. This time, Aegon charged and the beast extended its long arm to swipe again. Aegon rolled under and buried his sword into a small patch of hair on the Strider's chest. It wailed in pain and stumbled backwards, tearing the sword from Aegon's hands. Black blood oozed down the blade and stained the sand. The Strider turned its head and screamed at Aegon. It lashed at him, grabbing him between its jaws. It crunched down on the armour and threw him across the dunes. A burning sensation caught Aegon's side as he could feel blood pooling at his ribs. He hit the ground sand splashed into the sky. He slowly recovered from the landing and turned his head. When his eyes located the beast, a shiver travelled down his spine. The cracks on the back of the beast glowed yellow, similar to its eyes. The sand around it quivered as hands and heads emerged. Skeletons. Sweetwater warned Aegon of this. The Decayed they called them. Walking corpses from beneath the sand that aided the Sand Strider. There was at least twenty of them, all decomposed and dead. They charged at Aegon with broken, rusted swords. He drew his mace, held it high and shouted at the top of his lungs.
