Neriad13
Premium Member
It was late at night and I had just come out of Lost Knife Cave, after a very successful raid. My pockets heavy with loot, I decided to bed down on a nice looking spot outside the cave entrance. The second I got my camping kit out a dragon ambushed my companions and I. Between the darkness and the heavy foliage of the forest I was in, I couldn't see a thing and didn't know which direction the beast was coming from.
I decided that it was a bad time and place for a fight, snatched my camping kit back up and fled. I ran as fast as I could, slowed down by my heavy armor, my stamina bar drained in moments. The dragon hot on my heels, I raced up a winding, worn little path up a mountainside. Finally, I'd lost the monster. On top of the mountain, I could see the battle going on far below, between the tiny dragon and my minuscule mage companions. Their spells lit up the darkness as they fought with more courage than I could presently muster.
I breathed a sigh of relief and kept trotting down the path, hoping to find another suitable place for a campsite. And then something made me turn around. Maybe I heard it breathing. Maybe it was the flap of its wings that gave it away. I turned around and in utter horror, I encountered it, hovering just over the edge of the cliff I'd just clambered up. Time froze and its lizard gaze locked me in place. I couldn't believe that he'd found me after I'd run so far. I whispered "Holy plops." aloud.
It opened its mouth and came inches from killing me. I ran, tearing down that forest path, chugging my healing and fire resistance potions. I didn't stop. I didn't look back. I didn't breathe easily until I stumbled through the door of the Vilmeyr Inn in Ivarstead. When I got there, I shakily grabbed a bottle of mead from the innkeeper's hand and downed it in one gulp.
And then, in the peace of the inn, I curled up under the safety of my bed's furry blanket, still shaking and in awe of the experience.
I decided that it was a bad time and place for a fight, snatched my camping kit back up and fled. I ran as fast as I could, slowed down by my heavy armor, my stamina bar drained in moments. The dragon hot on my heels, I raced up a winding, worn little path up a mountainside. Finally, I'd lost the monster. On top of the mountain, I could see the battle going on far below, between the tiny dragon and my minuscule mage companions. Their spells lit up the darkness as they fought with more courage than I could presently muster.
I breathed a sigh of relief and kept trotting down the path, hoping to find another suitable place for a campsite. And then something made me turn around. Maybe I heard it breathing. Maybe it was the flap of its wings that gave it away. I turned around and in utter horror, I encountered it, hovering just over the edge of the cliff I'd just clambered up. Time froze and its lizard gaze locked me in place. I couldn't believe that he'd found me after I'd run so far. I whispered "Holy plops." aloud.
It opened its mouth and came inches from killing me. I ran, tearing down that forest path, chugging my healing and fire resistance potions. I didn't stop. I didn't look back. I didn't breathe easily until I stumbled through the door of the Vilmeyr Inn in Ivarstead. When I got there, I shakily grabbed a bottle of mead from the innkeeper's hand and downed it in one gulp.
And then, in the peace of the inn, I curled up under the safety of my bed's furry blanket, still shaking and in awe of the experience.