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Hope you enjoy it, if everyone likes it, I'll make more chapters to it and create a huge story!

"Six. Seven. Eight..." He counted nonchalantly as he strolled down an

old, dirt road. On both his right and left were houses. Some stood as

tall as a mountain, their tops piercing the sky and brushing the

clouds. Others were no more than shacks, a creaky wooden door, a

shattered window or two, and a roof, if they were lucky. "Nine." He

continued as his eyes lazily scanned his surroundings. He suddenly

stopped, and looked down with a scowl stained on his face. His mouth

twisted in disgust as he looked away, and stepped over the corpse.

"Ten." He shuddered, then returned to his stroll. The shacks had been

a nice, brown color once, just as the taller buildings had been a

beautiful white marble, but all were stained red now. Even high up on

the tall buildings, he saw it. "Just how high does blood fly?" ,he

remembered asking his crew when they first arrived here. His question

had summoned up a chuckle or two, but it mostly earned him frowns. No

one enjoys joking anymore.

When his walk had ended, he found himself at the makeshift garrison

that his superiors were so proud of. It was seven tents of dried

leather, with some, wooden palisades circling around it. ****ed

things don't even have tips...
he thought crudely as he slipped

through two of the dull spears they called a defense. Might keep

out a child, if he were sickly.

"Ah, you're back!" Called out a voice from his right. "Sir Grimor,

give me your report!" His superior commanded in an echoed voice.

With a silent sight, Sir Grimor trudged over to him. The man who had

called him was adorned in bright, shiny armor that covered him from

head to toe. His helm was practically a steel bucket with a slit in

front for eyes. Grimor wondered how they could see anything. "Sir,

there are no signs of life. In all, I've come across seventy-four

corpses. Some burned, so ripped viciously apart..." He paused to

shake his head of the memory. "A gruesome sight." He said, then added

"Sir," just in case, he didn't feel like receiving a lecture for not

addressing his superiors properly.

"Seventy four? Gods..." He gulped as he glanced back at the village.

"And no survivors?"

Grimor glanced downwards, and his silence answered his question.

"**** it all!" He cursed as he swung a fist down onto a his other

hand's open palm. "Charred bodies, pieces..." He took a deep breath.

"A dragon?"

"Aye, I believe so, Sir." He said, "I-"

The sound of wings beating the air resonated from high above them. "I'll be ****ed..." Said his superior as he looked up through his bucket helmet. "Looks like we get our revenge early."

To be continued!

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41 posts

I'll make more chapters FOR it*
Can't type today, and there's no edit... D:

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