Fall, 1326
A small patrol of five mounted scouts mounted worked its way around the stony hills East of Stanton. With infertile, rocky soil despite being close to the river, the area was empty as always, but now the weather was bad as well-an early overnight dusting of snow colored the ground, and a freezing wind cut deep through the layers of protective covering. Furthermore, the fog was thickening, and visibility was increasingly poor. The troops were cold, wet and frustrated attempting to find anything in this weather. The horses were more edgy than usual, grunting nervously, kicking up clods of mud and attempting to throw off their riders, who had much difficulty in restraining them.
Their captain breathed into his hands and rubbed them together for warmth. He was not happy to be here, but orders were orders. Ever since the dragon had escaped the Royals, Colonel Cunningham had thrown patrols, royals, mercenaries and militia, all over the River Triangle, trying to catch sight of the elusive quarry. Martin was sure that the creature would return to Stanton, and aimed to quickly assemble his forces to pursue and trap the creature again. The colonel was definitely in a grumpy mood, forced to recapture a dragon that had already cost him dozens of his men and escaped him twice. He had promised the entire regiment that next time they capture the dragon that they would hamstring it and clip its wings, kings orders or no. Subordinates who knew their commander well understood this was the time to give him a wide breadth.
The Eastern Hills led to the Rapidan River and the Moorlands behind it. According to the Sheriff of Stanton, the hunter had fled there once and sought refuge among the Duregaren of Kavi. He would likely try again, and perhaps attempt to initiate a war between the Stone Peoples and the king. That would not be a good thing, so Martin had multiple units already arranged around the river to intercept if the hunter or dragon was found to head in that direction. And that’s why the captain and his men were here in these rocky hills.
That is, if they could see anything in this fog. The commander grumbled to himself.
It seemed futile to chase a quarry that didn’t want to be found in such-
Suddenly a massive formation materialized out of the fog. The scouts quickly reigned in their mounts and stared at the shape. They had patrolled this area periodically, but something had noticeably changed. Some rock they did not notice earlier? An abandoned wagon? The commander squinted intently. Actually, there was a human shape on the other side of the road as well. Some stranded traveler? All questions were abruptly squelched with a sudden glare of light. The formations materialized into Logan, sword at the ready, glaring at the intruders. Behind him stood the massive bulk of the dragon, smoke pouring from its nostrils and providing the light with the glow from its throat. Both stared at the commander and gave mischievous smiles.
“Hello.” Said the hunter.
Without further comment the commander immediately wheeled his horse around and dug in his spurs; not needing any more input, his mount with a neigh broke into a full gallop. Without waiting for instructions, his men immediately followed suit. “Turn back men! Retreat!” came the belated call as the figures disappeared back into the fog as quickly as they appeared. The two remaining figures shared a hearty chuckle.
“Boy did you see the look on their faces?" The dragon laughed. "It was like they saw a ghost!”
“Their eyes were as wide as dinner plates!” Logan agreed.
As the laughter died down, the dragon turned to hunter slightly questioningly.
“Of course now the colonel knows we’re here. So besides a good laugh, why didn’t you want me to eat them? You think letting them know we’re going East will deter them from testing the Stone Folk at all?”
Logan picked up his bags, hidden in a crevice of boulders. “Hell no." He snorted, throwing his bags onto his back. "Besides, the Duregaren probably hate you as much as Martin hates you and you hate them. We’re going North.”
Uncle Bunt Stephens - Sail away lady
Just got a Wacom Inturos Tablet, and getting back into the hang of things.
My first drawing of my dragon in 15 years or so. I feel like I'm a bit rusty lol.
A small patrol of five mounted scouts mounted worked its way around the stony hills East of Stanton. With infertile, rocky soil despite being close to the river, the area was empty as always, but now the weather was bad as well-an early overnight dusting of snow colored the ground, and a freezing wind cut deep through the layers of protective covering. Furthermore, the fog was thickening, and visibility was increasingly poor. The troops were cold, wet and frustrated attempting to find anything in this weather. The horses were more edgy than usual, grunting nervously, kicking up clods of mud and attempting to throw off their riders, who had much difficulty in restraining them.
Their captain breathed into his hands and rubbed them together for warmth. He was not happy to be here, but orders were orders. Ever since the dragon had escaped the Royals, Colonel Cunningham had thrown patrols, royals, mercenaries and militia, all over the River Triangle, trying to catch sight of the elusive quarry. Martin was sure that the creature would return to Stanton, and aimed to quickly assemble his forces to pursue and trap the creature again. The colonel was definitely in a grumpy mood, forced to recapture a dragon that had already cost him dozens of his men and escaped him twice. He had promised the entire regiment that next time they capture the dragon that they would hamstring it and clip its wings, kings orders or no. Subordinates who knew their commander well understood this was the time to give him a wide breadth.
The Eastern Hills led to the Rapidan River and the Moorlands behind it. According to the Sheriff of Stanton, the hunter had fled there once and sought refuge among the Duregaren of Kavi. He would likely try again, and perhaps attempt to initiate a war between the Stone Peoples and the king. That would not be a good thing, so Martin had multiple units already arranged around the river to intercept if the hunter or dragon was found to head in that direction. And that’s why the captain and his men were here in these rocky hills.
That is, if they could see anything in this fog. The commander grumbled to himself.
It seemed futile to chase a quarry that didn’t want to be found in such-
Suddenly a massive formation materialized out of the fog. The scouts quickly reigned in their mounts and stared at the shape. They had patrolled this area periodically, but something had noticeably changed. Some rock they did not notice earlier? An abandoned wagon? The commander squinted intently. Actually, there was a human shape on the other side of the road as well. Some stranded traveler? All questions were abruptly squelched with a sudden glare of light. The formations materialized into Logan, sword at the ready, glaring at the intruders. Behind him stood the massive bulk of the dragon, smoke pouring from its nostrils and providing the light with the glow from its throat. Both stared at the commander and gave mischievous smiles.
“Hello.” Said the hunter.
Without further comment the commander immediately wheeled his horse around and dug in his spurs; not needing any more input, his mount with a neigh broke into a full gallop. Without waiting for instructions, his men immediately followed suit. “Turn back men! Retreat!” came the belated call as the figures disappeared back into the fog as quickly as they appeared. The two remaining figures shared a hearty chuckle.
“Boy did you see the look on their faces?" The dragon laughed. "It was like they saw a ghost!”
“Their eyes were as wide as dinner plates!” Logan agreed.
As the laughter died down, the dragon turned to hunter slightly questioningly.
“Of course now the colonel knows we’re here. So besides a good laugh, why didn’t you want me to eat them? You think letting them know we’re going East will deter them from testing the Stone Folk at all?”
Logan picked up his bags, hidden in a crevice of boulders. “Hell no." He snorted, throwing his bags onto his back. "Besides, the Duregaren probably hate you as much as Martin hates you and you hate them. We’re going North.”
Uncle Bunt Stephens - Sail away lady
Just got a Wacom Inturos Tablet, and getting back into the hang of things.
My first drawing of my dragon in 15 years or so. I feel like I'm a bit rusty lol.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Western Dragon
Gender Male
Size 1280 x 1075px
Plenty of other knights to kill. This was needs to send back false information.
Dragons can burn ghosts, but ghosts can't shock dragons, ergo dragons are scarier. Facts.
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