Dragons Love Bacon

[EmberKnight68]

Summertime in the kingdom was always a beautiful affair. The grasses took on a yellow hue, wildflowers deep in bloom, and dandilion dust drifting lazily through the warm air. Birdsongs mixed with bard songs as sparrows and starlings cut the air like arrows, and brightly colored troubadours beat their strings to earn a few thin coins.


The best part of the summer though, was the solstice festival, the biggest trade festival in the kingdom. Vendors, from far and wide, and of every race stood hawking their wares, and noisily at that. Elves, dwarves, fae and all other sorts stood selling food, goods and arms. The whole sight, the unity brought a slight smile to a man, feet sore from the road behind him. Thin lips traveled up to an aquilline nose, and one lovely, emerald eye peeking out from under coal black hair. His other eye was covered by bandages and cloth, a reminder of a duel from earlier in the man's youth. A bit of the wicked scar trailed beleow the wrappings, though it was such an old wound, he likely only kept it wrapped for posterities sake. His ears twitched in anticipation of the upcoming day.



The man, as it were, was quite the young elf, only 32 in human years. Of course, this made him of age in elven society, but just barely. Outwardly, he looked and acted like a twenty-something human, if not a little fairer and pointier in the ear. The man's destination came upon him soon, and the man he looked upon was no man at all. A dwarven smith, it seemed. Pulling his greatsword from its place on his back, he negotiated the price for honing the blacksteel, pulling a pouch from his belt, which was generously full, and doling out three coins, before he replaced it. The man leaned down on his haunches, propped up by the stall table, as he watched, mesmerized by the dwarven craftsman at work, not a care, nor attention paid to the rest of the world...

[Lollilox]

People were stupid. Irrevocably and undeniably stupid. Places like the solstice festival were rich pickings for people like her, and before the day was up, she'd be up a few wallets, into a few drinks, and sharing a nice haunch of meat with Raziel, far, far away from ever being caught and reprimanded for it.

The brunette stalked her way around the shops and stalls, keeping her eyes peeled for any kind of target ripe for picking. They were enchanted by the shops or the dancers or the drink, and blissfully oblivious of their purses. All it took was one little swipe of her dagger and things would be looking up for her. Unfortunately for whomever she'd stolen from, they'd be out not only a purse, but the contents of it as well. Not that she cared.

Helena moved through the crowd at an ambler's pace until she'd found her perfect target. A man, standing with his back to her, watching a smith work. A slow, knowing smile spread over her lips as she padded closer, discretely drawing her knife from the leather sheath on her thigh.
His purse looked full to bursting; Helena licked her lips. She could already taste the mutton, the drink...
Her hand moved swiftly as she bumped into the man, making it seem accidental. Using the motion to mask the swipe of her knife against the purse strings, Helena felt the weight of the cut purse drop into her free, waiting hand. Quickly, she sheathed her dagger in one discrete motion, and tucked the purse behind her back, now enclosed in her palm.
"Sorry mate." She chuckled. "Wasn't watching where I was walking."

[EmberKnight68]

The man turned, his elfy ears twitching catlike, and emerald eye fixed upon the offender. A slght smile cracked his bemused features, directed at the pretty brunette who unbeknownst to him, was holding the last of his crowns. "Tis quite alright, miss." He said, with no trace of accent or, better for her, knowing. His attention once more turned to the smith, the elf content to lean upon the smithy, adjusting the cloth covering his eye....Or rather the space one used to be.



Eventually the dwarf finished his work, and handed the blade back over to the elf. A fine bit of craftsmanship, special blacksteel forged blade smooth under his gloved fingertips. The weapon was wholly five foot long, from pommel to tip, and weighed far less than a sword its size should, and with a flourish, the elven warrior sheathed the blade in the small loop, attached to a harness on his back. It was only then, when he went to tip the dwarf, that the knife eared swordsman realized he had been had. His emerald eye narrowed, and he spat out a string of curses in elvish.


Taking to his feet, the elf moved deftly, knowing he had to find the girl before she skipped the festival. A small smirk raised his lips at the thought of capturing her, however what exactly he would do was lost to him. He couldn't exactly run her through in the midst of such a large crowd, though the thought was certainly tempting. High and low, the elf hunted, using his superior sight and agility to dart around the encampment, moving the way he would go, if he was worried a greatsword wielding lunatic was going. and towards the edge of the town, he finally spotted her.



"Hey!" He shouted, at once realizing the futility of doing so. The brunette was a good thirty yards away, and could easily outpace and outmaneuver him, unarmored as she was, while he was encumbered by his armored haubergeon and greatsword. Though, the warrior did have one trick he knew, and was counting on her not anticipating. Holding his left hand out, his fingers went through a few elaborite motions, and he spoke a few words, muttered low, causing energy to draw around his hand, in a glowing blue ball, which he launched at her, a grin on his face. The distance was too far however, and the thing exploded some five feet away from the would be thief. But the effect should have been enough to startle her.


See, far from a simple elven sellsword, Tristan, the man with the great sword, was what lay people called a Dark Knight. A swordsman and curse-slinger, specializing in destructive and debilitative arts. And the small smoking crater beside the girl made it plainly clear he would be shooting to kill, as he advanced, the crowd parting its way as he readied another energy spell, and flung it, this one impacting right at the girls feet, and spraying her legs with chunks of dirt and grass. "Damn thief! Throw down my coin, and you might live to see tomorrow!" This young elf was arrogant to boot! Although those spells would certainly hurt, his skill with magic was nowhere near that of say, a full fledged mage. And he still was just out of range. With youth came foolishness, it seemed. And right now he was irked to have been fooled by a pretty face....And a human one at that!

[Lollilox]

After her false apology had been accepted, Helena could barely contain herself. Some people were so stupid, especially men when faced with a pair of breasts in their face and a pretty smile on a woman's lips. They were simple creatures, easily distracted and taken advantage of. It worked out well for Helena, at least.

She backed up until the elf was out of sight, and then swiveled around, bringing her hand out from behind her back. Weighing the gold from her latest steal, Helena tossed it up and down before tucking it into the folds of the cinch keeping her tunic fitted to her waist.

Raziel would definitely be pleased with her if she came back with a haunch of meat for him. He never complained when food was involved, anyway.

Pushing her way through the crowd, Helena made her way out of the hubbub. She might have been able to score a few more purses, though it was hardly necessary with the gold now tucked against her side.

It wasn't until she'd almost made it to the end of the stalls and the crowd that Helena had heard a yell. She looked behind her, neck nearly snapping in the process. Well, he'd found out rather fast that he'd been missing coin.
Lurching forward, Helena's pace quickened to jog and then a run. Whoever this person was, he was willing to go the extra mile for that gold. That was... unfortunate.

Worse yet, she seemed to have picked a target that was not completely hindered by the amount of armor and weaponry he carried. A blast at her feet meant business, and nearly made the woman trip and fall from the sudden shock of it. He was gaining on her. Now was no time to play cat and mouse. But if he thought he'd catch her, he was sorely mistaken. That arrogance would cost him.
She turned briefly to check and see how far away he was. Shaking off the spray of rubble off her pant legs and boots, she turned half her body to face him, spreading her feet apart and keeping her knees bent.
"Nah." She smirked, turned and launched into a full fledged sprint back into the crowd, lithe body slipping past the sea of bodies as she ran away from the person tailing her.

Her heart was skipping in her chest by the time she reached the baker's shop, using the sacks of grain and flour around the back to scale the wall and get onto the thatched roof. If she whistled for Raziel now, it would be too easy.
She ran up the sloped roof to the top, scanning the crowd to see if she could spot where her assailant was.

[EmberKnight68]

Today just was not going as planned. Pickpocketed by a pretty face, Tristan wore a snarl on his face, his hopes that launching a few low level soul bolts at the girl would scare her into dropping his purse all but dashed. And worse yet, her teasing little smirk got to him, causing him to clench his fist, instead of hitting her with another spell. Not that he had time, the girl was off again, fleet as a rabbit as she moved fluid-like through the crowd. He knew she was counting on Tristan's larger size, and heavy chain and quilt armor to make it impossible to get through the crowd, and she would have been right. But she didn't count on one thing....And that was a tenacious elven mercenary who just couldn't let some pretty slip of a girl make a fool of him.



Of course, her crowd-hiding technique had one major flaw; Tristan had a sword the length of a teenager. With a swishing noise, the 5 foot long, dwarven blacksteel blade sung through the air, and coupled with a shout from the elf wielding it, effectively set the crowd in a panic, scattering them like cattle from a wolf and allowing the swordmage passage through. Taking to his heels, he eventually caught sight of the girl, scaling the roof of a nearby bake shop. It was pretty clear she wasn't going anywhere, so he took his time getting up to her, a wide smirk on his face. "End of the line, lass. Now come down here or I'll-" His words cut off, and an unnatural, gutteral moan escaped his lips as a man in red armor scale and helmet thumped the back of his neck with the hilt of his sword. Four archers in the same armor surrounded the bake shop, and had arrows drawn even before the elf hit the ground. The swordsman picked up the blacksteel blade, and shouted out. "Come down from there, thief. You're under arrest by order of the magistrate!"

[Lollilox]

He was not hard to spot. The crowd parted like the red sea for Moses as soon as his weapon slashed through the air with a rebel yell.
Helena crouched on the thatched roof, watching as he got closer. So dramatic and unrefined. She loved a bit of banter here and there but now it was just getting tiring watching him chase her pointlessly.
But, let him think he had her cornered.

Casually, Helena waited for him to begin the climb up to the roof. Raziel would come once she whistled, he'd pick her up and she'd fly away. On a dragon. With that numbskull's money. Wearing a s**t-eating grin like nobody's business.

He tried taunting her whilst climbing, though to her surprise he didn't get very far before things went to pot. Helena watched as he fell to the ground, and only then saw the archers, arrows trained on her, commanded by the person who had gotten rid of her assailant.

s**t.

Helena rose, hands upward to show forfeit. There was no way she'd outrun the arrows before one or more found a nasty home in one of her limbs or her torso.
"Calm down." Helena called from the roof, sliding down it and hopping to the ground in a well practiced leap. She kept her distance from the magistrate's lackeys, and looked for an exit. None sang to her.
Things were bad.

The leader seemed to notice her looking around suspiciously, and just before she'd tried to leap forward into a sprint and take her chances, a heavy weight threw itself onto her back and toppled her over.
She fell, buckling under the weight of a soldier and his armor, and hit the ground hard, getting a mouthful of dirt. He wrestled her into a pair of irons, though Helena squirmed as she could to try and get away. It was no use. Her nose was bleeding now, drizzling the coppery, dark red liquid down her dirt-smudged face to drip off her chin as she was lifted up involuntarily and taken to a holding cell, tromped through the festival like a freak.

She was thrown in a dank, chilly cell with one small barred window, after she'd been stripped of her weapon and the pouch of gold, to await punishment.

[EmberKnight68]

Soon after, footfalls beat the stone floor of the prison, and a bloody elf was thrown bodily into the cell. IT seemed that the knife eared man was conscious, and brought himself to a knee, spitting blood as the cell door slammed shut and the guard took leave of them. At least in the cell, the restraints were taken off of the two, and the elf looked around, contempt showing in his lovely green eye, as he fixed the cloth covering his destroyed left orbit, and strode over to a low stone bench on the wall, the only furniture in the room, aside from a barely padded cot, and a bucket for obvious means.


The raven haired elf was oddly silent, and propped his chin upon his left hand, looking wistfully at the iron barred door, as though contemplating ramming his way through it, a plan that obvously would do nothing aside from break a shoulder. The glassy emerald eye scanned across the room, and settled upon the girl he had been so ferverently chasing up until now. The verdant orb hung there for a second, taking in the thiefs features, sketching them to memory, and silently assessing her. Unlike before, no hostility showed on his face, and in-fact, a small smirk crossed his thin lips.


"You know, D'hoine, I would've never figured they'd catch you." When he wasn't shouting in the din of battle(Or a foot chase) his voice had that melodic quality most elves did, with the distinct forest isle accent, with a tinge of human gaelic making the sound a strange palatte. His smile widened a bit, and he leaned back, his chained hauberk making a slight creak, the metal hidden under thick quilted padding. "You surprised me though, not many smirk at their attacker when they're hurling magic bolts at them. You must really have needed that coin." The elf said with an off handed wave, looking back to the door, then to the girl. "So, since we're stuck here, for now." He said 'for now' as though this was all a temporary inconvenience. "What is your name, D'hoine?"


((Dhoine=human))

[Lollilox]

Well, that hadn't gone to plan at all. She'd been robbed of what she'd rightfully stolen, and made to bleed. Helena pinched her lips together. What made matters worse, was that she was now condemned to sharing a cell with the person who'd tried to catch and kill her.
Neither of them made a move, however, except to settle into the cell. Her companion moved to occupy the bench. Helena moved to the cot, sitting herself down on it. She wiped her nose haphazardly on her sleeve and spat out the last remnants of dirt from her mouth onto the floor, and cast her eyes at the window. Inconvenient, yes, but not entirely inescapable.

After a few seconds of pensive, terse silence, the other spoke up. Helena kept her eyes trained on the sky outside the window. The stone reminded her too much of the castle, and the dungeons that they kept underneath the ballrooms and grand balconies. That life was better left long forgotten.
"You try shaking off someone twice your size." She snapped bitterly, not taking lightly to the whole being captured idea. It was her first slip up in a long time. "I would have been able to outrun you but I can't outrun arrows."

She folded her arms over her chest and focused her gaze on the elf when he asked her name.
"Mary." She replied. It was a lie, naturally. She wasn't fool enough to give him her birth name. It wasn't exactly common.
"And who do I have to blame for landing me in here?" She asked in reply.

[EmberKnight68]

The elf looked up, and his bright emerald eye squinted as he smirked over at her. "Yourself, naturally." He said with a slight snicker, in response to her inquiry as to who got her in here. Arrogant and a smartass....Not a fun combination, though at least he didn't seem stupid. His eye darted about, looking from wall, to door, then back to the girl seated upon the cot. She began speaking of how the guard had pinned her, and he shook his head, a few bangs of raven hair swaying with the motion.


"Sorry, after seeing your reaction to having magic shot at you, I figured your skills would have been more....Impressive. As it sits, D'hoine, you're just a particularly pretty thief, is all. I guess I was hoping for more from someone who bested me." He said with a shrug, standing to his full height, which was a bit short for an elf, but still impressive. Taking a few strides, the elf began to examine the door, even going so far as to tap his finger a few times upon the sqare fitting where the lock mechanism sat, a strange, curious look upon his fair face.


"Hmmm....It's solid. Any chance you can get us out of here, D'hoine....Mary. Not a fitting name in the least. Mary is a name for a spinstress." He said with a chuckle, testing the give in the door, finding none, and muttering something in elvish, likely a curse, before going to sit down. "I guess telling you my name isn't going to hurt anything....Tristan." He said with a small smile. "And as you already likely put together....I'm a Dark Knight..." He didn't add that he was quite new, having just completed his training for ten years under his master. "Tell me, how do you think I came by so much coin?" He asked with a coy little smile, then answered for her, in the form of a question. "Ever heard of a Krayt Lizard?". His smile widened, Krayt's were nasty things, often called a poor man's dragon. Essentially a six foot long lizard with nasty teeth and claws, they had become a problem as of late, and town guards usually wouldn't mess with them. It made sense why there was an elven merc in town, at the very least....Even if he was a braggard and a bit green behind the ears.

[Lollilox]

Helena rolled her eyes when he'd expressed the hope that her skills would be more impressive. "Not everyone wields magic." Let him think that all she was was a pretty thief.

She sat back with her head pressed against the wall as she watched the elf try the door. Frowning as she watched him pick at the lock, while tearing at her false name. Clearly, she hadn't been convincing.
"I'm not married." She said with a shrug. If that made her a spinster, so be it. The last time she'd been engaged, it hadn't worked out. In fact, it was a large part of what had made her up and leave the castle life. She didn't want to be confined, by either the walls of the castle, or the husband that had been picked out for her. "And I don't ever plan to be."

He asked her if she had any way out, and Helena simply shrugged, fixing her gaze on the window once more. She wondered tentatively if Raziel would hear her if she whistled here. Well, even if he didn't, he would come looking for her before long. All she had to do now was bide her time.
Too bad she was stuck with a chatterbox that was essentially just an inflated ego. "Selling your body?" she muttered when he asked her how she thought he'd come by so much coin. "Let me guess, you killed one? How gallant." She spoke sarcastically.
It really did take a lot of courage to kill something that was probably just confused and scared. If she had done the same to Raziel as a whelpling it would have been easy. There was no glory in murder.

A distant screech came from the skies outside of the cell, and within split seconds, Helena was up and at the window, grinning wickedly. It was unmistakably Raziel's call for her. He'd be able to track her scent, but she'd call him if it helped.
She put her fingers to her lips and whistled shrilly for the dragon, and waited a second or two before a returning call came to her, closer this time.
"Say, you've never faced a real dragon, have you?" Helena asked almost dreamily as she stayed glued to the window, feeling certainly like she'd won.

[EmberKnight68]

Tristan was about to relpy, when he gritted his teeth at the grating call of a dragon. By the gods, those damned things were supposed to be going extinct, how the hell was this girl controlling one? No matter, the commotion outside the cell sent guards scurrying to take battlements, and conveniently, abandon their posts. The elf looked at the girl with narrowed eyes, thinking of a plan. True, for a dark knight, his elven magic was quite potent. But a potent dark knight still only made a half-assed wizard, and Tristan knew he had no chance against a drake with only his magic.


Somehow, though, he kept his calm demeanor, as the ar around them grew staticky and heavy. Obviously he was tapping into his power, but for what? Killing the girl solved nothing, and obviously he couldn't kill a dragon off, not with his spellpower. "You're just all kind's of surprises, d'hoine. To answer your question, as of yet, no. Someday." He said, giving her a mock salute, as his right hand engulfed with a dusky black flame. Muttering something, he flung his hand forward, and assaulted the locking mechanism with a gout of black fire, blowing the door open.


Darting out, Tristan ran the opposite way of the guards, opting instead for the armory, which he blew open with another spell. Inside, he quickly found what he wanted; His blacksteel blade. Strapping it to his back, he picked up a guards helmet, and was about to leave, when he saw a lovely dagger, and a full coinpurse sitting on a table. Snatching both he ran out, easily content to disappear into the chaos, though something forced him to stop. The look on her face, as she waited in that cell for her dire beast could only be described as lovely. He tossed the dagger and coinpurse in a lazy arc onto the cot. Lifting his visor, he grinned to the girl. "You win today, little spinster. At least let me know your real name, Dragon Girl." He asked, knowing now what his next mission would be. Tristan Ryliss; Dragon Slayer.

[Lollilox]

Ah... watching Raziel rain down fire and fury never got old. His presence was like that of nature's most powerful hurricane, tornado, and earthquake all at once combined into one deathly blaze of glory.
Everyone but she seemed to be in a panic as he descended, called by her whistle, turning from a black speck in the sky to a towering cloud of potent power as he sniffed her out.

Helena stepped away from the window and sat down on the cot again, an air of casual grace around her, her heart swelling with pride.

The distraction had given her cellmate enough time to blow the door open with magic without being caught. Right then and there, the guards had bigger problems. Namely, an irate dragon.
She'd fully expected Tristan to leave at the first opportunity, and took no heed when he did.

But she hadn't expected him to come back. Just as he threw her dagger and the coin at her, Helena looked at him peculiarly, the sound of spitfire now creating a backtrack to his question for her real name. She grinned mischievously, and stood up just as Raziel located the cell and knocked the stone away with a swipe of his tail like it was tissue.
"It's Helena." She scooped up the things thrown to her, and scrambled out of the hole that Raziel had bashed in the cell wall, wasting no time in scaling his tail all the way up his haunch to his back.

[EmberKnight68]

Tristan smiled as the girl scampered away, up her dragen mount to safety, and freedom. Helena.....Hmmmm, now that name would haunt the dark knight, he was sure of it. Though for now, escape was his goal, and so the elf stole away, down the corridors and byways. Not failing to find good in a bad situation, Tristan managed to find the magistrate's office, open and unlocked. In the drawer, he found a second coinpurse, with quite a few gold Aurochs in it....A great start to buying some new gear.


Now his feet carried him outside, only to see the brunt of destruction her dragon had caused. It awed the young elf, and also made him wonder if he could really do it....IF it was really possible for a dark knight to slay a dragon. The thoughts kept coming as his body automatically sought shelter, and kept moving. To kill a dragon, he would be reknowned throughout the land, Tristan the Wyrm Conquerer, the thought certainly held some allure, and like anyone with some extra coin, he ducked into a tavern called the Sunk'n Norweigian, and seeing it empty, poured himself a stout tankard of mead, and waited.


Eventually the sound outside subsided, and Tristan's company was bolstered by various tough looking men. They all were spouting off about how they saw the thing land in the hills, and about taking it down. The reward however, was what really caught his ear. Seventy-five Aurochs for the beasts head. With that much money, he could be set for months. Standing, and striding over to what seemed to be the leader of the ragtag group, a man named Bryce, Tristan stuck out his hand. "So....I hear you lot wanna kill that thing...Count me in." The one eyed elf said with a wicked grin.

[Lollilox]

Before long, Helena and Raziel were gone, leaving a smoking heap of rubble in their wake. The jail cell had been mostly done in by Raziel's strong tail. The stone crumbled and the wall gave way to allow her escape, not even coming close to showing the real damage that had been done. The black dragon's spitfire had lit up a line of trees that were now reduced to blazing stumps, the ground smoldering with residual heat.

Helena patted Raziel's strong, sure neck and pressed her body low to his as she sat between his shoulders, leathery wings beating the wind furiously until he landed once more.
This time, he set down in the hills, clear of foe but also of food.

Patiently waiting until Helena leaped from his back, Raziel stood still, lowering his neck to allow the brunette ease of access. She slid down, onto her feet, and moved to Raziel's barbed, horned head. He was a ferocious looking beast, and surely anyone that saw him beside Helena saw only a great conquest, a dragon to be slain. But Helena saw the tiny dragon that had nestled into her stomach the night he hatched, still warm from the fire she'd set the egg on. She remembered the first tooth he'd lost and the first spiked horn he'd grown and loved him as if she'd born him herself. The two had a bond that was not easily breakable, and Helena was sure that if it wasn't for Raziel, she would have died a long time ago.

Helena smoothed her hand over Raziel's snout. "There, there. You've no need to be so upset, I'm perfectly fine."
The dragon whined.
"We'll get something the next town over. I promise. I did manage to get some coin, you know." Helena smiled at the dragon. "Best make a fire, I'm sure it'll get cold soon."

[EmberKnight68]

While the girl thought she stole away, a company of men, mostly townsfolk, with msmatched, rusty weapons set out to slay the beast. Ten in all, they carried spears, swords and axes, even one had a farming pitchfork. Out of the group, only Tristan and one other man, a rusty, chainmail clad man, seemed to have any warfighting experience. The mood was light as the men took to the march, a rowdy racous bunch, with conversation flowing the whole way.


One man, a large ogre with a balding head and a hammer, let out a guffawing laugh. "Did yeh see that thing? I cant wait to mount the head on my wall! And did you see that girl? Eh sir knight!" He asked, nudging Tristan, who nodded apprehensively. Another man spoke up, a slim man with a rotted, rusty spear that loked quite aged. "Oh yes friend, once we kill that thing....I'mma teach that little wench! I say we tie her to a tree, we can all take turns!" He said, and the men all rallied and agreed, each describing in detail the foul things they would do to break the poor rider's body. Tristan did his best to keep his face stony, assured he had bit off something foul with this one.



Up the hill the troop snaked, and the conversation continued, the men all describing the various evils they would visit on the pretty girl who rode the dragon. The general consensus ws to rape her, and burn her at the stake. The lazy smoke of a fire drifted up through the trees, and as they drew closer, Tristan's stomach tied in knots. Seventy five aurochs wasn't worth this, not att all. "Hey Wench! Come out here! We've come to slay your beast!" One of the men bawled out, and he was sure the thing heard him, it and Helena. "There she is! Kill the beast and string her up!" The men began to run, and Tristan pushed into a dead sprint. What am I doing..... HE thought, as they broke into the clearing.


"Step away from the dragon, little girl! You'll regret the day you messed with us!" The man shouted out, and Tristan looked up, catching Helena's eye for a second, as they moved to surround her and the beast. Here we go.... "Lance of Aries!" He shouted, having made the sign as the man shouted. A piercing, deadly spear of flame shot from his hand, and skewered the fat, bald man, and engulfed him as he fell, screaming. The blacksteel greatsword sung from the knights back, and he moved, taking an arm off the next nearest man, then turning to blast another with that blue magic bolt from before. This one turned a man's thigh into paste, and the men retalliated, Tristan moving fluidly to cut another across the belly, spilling his guts, before hot pin pierced his side, a rusty spearhead barely made it through his hauberk, bu the dark knight staggered back, his back turned to the dragon while he clutched his side. "Give it up elf, you're outnumbered. If you wanna die with the dragon whore so be it." Said another as he stepped forward.


The dark knight growled, and flung his hand out, spraying blood along the three he had killed already. His bright, emerald green eye glowed. "Rise!" He shouted, and fell to a knee. It seemed the fight was over, until two corpses joined the knight, who rose, shaky to his feet. It seemed funny really, the dark knight and his two revenants making a sort of wall between the dragon and rider, and angry townspeople, though their numbers swelled as an angry mob began to form....The dark knight wasn't looking good, a small puddle forming of his blood under his feet, as he steadied his blade, one hhanded on his shoulder. "Damned necromancer....What the hell are you doing!" One of the townsmen spat at the elf, who grinned back. "Easy...Evil men disgust me. You hired me to kill monsters....I'm killing monsters." Tristan said with a weak smirk, as he lashed out with a weak fire spell, just enough to burn the man who spoke. He went down, clutching his melted face and with that the rest of the townsfolk charged, and Tristan steeled himself for the inevitable end, watching his undead kill one more man before being cut down. He braced for death reassured that at least his fool's errand had given the dragon rider fair warning of the evil coming her way....