Dragonfire streamed past Jeroen’s shield, an infernal blast that would otherwise have killed him. The warrior had prepared, though, and the combination of quick reflexes and a magically-enhanced shield against such an attack saved him from being roasted to a crisp. The dragon raised a razor-sharp set of claws, but this, too, Jeroen was ready for. As the dragon’s leg flew towards him, the fighter sidestepped the attack and slashed down the length of the beast’s limb with a blood-red scimitar. Screeching, the dragon pulled back, and Jeroen pressed his advantage.
The dragonkin blade swung once more, and struck home in the dragon’s neck, slicing almost completely through the beast’s collarbone. The mighty creature cried out in pain, but slumped to the floor of the cavern, beginning the rapid and curious decomposition that all the beasts of Gielinor are heir to.
Jeroen looked through the mass of flesh, and one thing caught his eye: a metallic object that looked curiously like a dragon’s face. His heart beat a little faster. He knew what that one thing could be worth.
“Hello, fancy a quick game?”
Suddenly, the dragon’s visage and the entire cavern around it began to fade away, only to be replaced by another cavern full of garish lights and what looked to be a pair of trolls. Jeroen spun around, looking for the cause of this, and saw nothing more than a strange old man, dressed completely in black.
“The rules of the game are quite simple. You have to score 10 points by tagging the flashing pillars.”
The old man teleported away in a flash of purple light.
13-Jun-2011 15:01:13
- Last edited on
13-Jun-2011 15:10:17
by
Tabris V
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