There has come a time, with the winter winds changing, driving those who can't survive the cold into the south. This gives the Dragon Slayers an advantage, and they begin to wage on the dragons.
The dragons have riders. And they are starting armies to protect them. Soon enough, the war will begin. Whose side are you on? Choose which side comes out victiorious!
Koda splashed out the fire with her bucket of sloshing water, covering her nose with her arm as the smoke began to rise in clouds. She turned and strode back to her tent, worn gumboots sinking in the churned up mud. Dropping the bucket on the ground, she pushed into the warm darkness and sat on her bed, grabbing a water skin and sucking greedily.
In the distance, she could hear guards marching. With finely tuned ears, she listened to the continuous thump of feet on the ground, and clink of chain mail. Taking another sip of her water before pulling her boots off and crossing her legs, Koda closed her eyes and breathed.
It was her first day on the battle field. Hethr was in the forest, hiding among the rocky, sandy valley, his occasional pang of anxiety and fear leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She often thought of him and relaxed to help him do the same.
Rubbing her sore feet, she breathed evenly. She'd have to get used to the lack of breaks. When an army was on your tail, you had to stay on your feet. She opened her eyes and stared at the thin spear of light coming through and hitting the ground. They'd be on the move in an hour. She'd have to pack up her things, and walk again, taking them and their warriors for the hope of safety in the next city.
The sword hissed as it slid into its sheath. Alder and Dorn stood side-by-side in full clad armour. The Captain marched back and forth, and Dorn watched him pace.
"When am I going to get some dragon blood on my dagger?" Alder hissed.
Dorn glanced at him. He himself didn't feel right about this. He was only 15. His father had trained him since young to be ruthless. But that wasn't who he wanted to be. As soon as the army sent out notices asking for knights for the Slayers, he was forced to join. Four months of training leading up to now.
The sight of blood was enough to put Dorn off, but dragons were more. It went beyond normal fear when the creature that had torn his mother appart stood in front of him, green eyes facing him, nostrils flaring, blood on its needle sharp teeth, and blue infernos of fire billowing over the ground at regular intervals.
He rubbed his arms and began to march with the rest of the men, arms swinging loosly at his sides. All he could smell was thick mud, cold steel, and foul breath. Dorn closed his eyes and kept walking. He only had one parent remaining, and if anything, he was going to impress him. Dorn was going to kill the dragon.