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A thick mist bubbled forth from the ground as a dejected Knight walked
through the desolate and waste unexplored regions. A full moon hung
balefully in the sky, and the howling of netherspawn could be heard in the
distance. Fred did not care - he had succumbed to the Dragon's Panick
spell, and had thus abjectly and utterly failed in his Quest. Astra
remained a prisoner of the Dragon, and little Velus had died a horrible
death because of his failure. T'would be fitting, Fred mused, that he were
torn to shreds now by some unholy beast - he would be grateful, glad in
fact, to meet the jaws of doom, and with them, an end to his ignominy and
shame. But it was not meant to be, at least not yet, anyway. As Fred made his way around one of the large hills that changed location at night, he beheld something something most unusual. A pack of black wolves - perhaps the very same that would've granted Fred's wish for death under different circumstances - had chosen another target instead. They crowded about and snarled at what appeared to be a Dragon! Not much larger than a war-horse, it was likely a very young Dragon, and a very unusual beast as well. Fred knew all about the different colors of Dragons - green, red, blue, white, black - but this Dragon shimmered with a bright chromatic hue, it's scales reflecting the moonlight in dazzling rainbow colors. Two wolves lay dead close by, but the Dragon was bleeding from numerous bite wounds and seemed to be weakening by the second.
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3/23/2003 10:17:50 AM
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