The Knight is approaching · 2:55am
Well my new story, A knight to remember, has been submitted and boy did I start off with one hell of a long chapter, over 4300 words - and I loved every one of them. For the few people who follow me I shall give you a preview of the very beginning, enjoy:
“Good dragon, nice dragon. You stay on your side of the cave and I’ll stay on mine.” The words were breathed out of the helmet as much as they were spoken through its vents, and quickly swallowed up by the cavern, hungry to consume all light and life. It was large and roomy with the typical stalactites and stalagmites associated with a cave of this age, however, many of the more central spires and towers were broken and now little more than stumps jutting out of the floor and ceiling. The message was clear, something big had passed this way.
A far smaller creature then the one that had left its mark, carefully moved along the edges of the cavern, keeping as much rock and distance between itself and the sleeping mountain of scales. Heavy feet made surprisingly little noise against the stone underfoot, though that was mostly due to the layer of ash that coated everything; footprints would be left, but the owner of the feet was hoping to be long gone before the cave’s occupant would notice the disturbance to its decor. Slow breathing echoed around the cavern helping to mask any misstep, or other unintentional sound, that might cause the dreamer to stur. Its breath was hot and sulfurous, and almost seemed to cling to the vacating visitor like a blanket, before it would sweep past and raced to meet the cooler morning air. Almost out and with the light, quite literally, at the end of the tunnel, the dragon’s ‘guest’ quickened his pace. Luck, however, seem to leave him at that moment, as the sound of claws on stone and very large bones snapping into very large joints echoed around the cavern. Nap time was over.
A man, clad in metal, suddenly made an extremely quick, and extremely loud, exit from the cave that was situated in the side of an impressively large mountain. Behind him, and far closer than the man would have liked, trailed a dark green dragon whose blinking eyes and shaking head pertained that it had, until very recently, been asleep.
“Quick! Ready the horses!” The metal man shouted, with more than a little bit of panic staining his voice. The words were push forwards and towards a rocky outcrop, where two stocky horses were being restrained, though not without protest, by a wiry figure in the standard leather and cloth of a squire’s livery. The boy, who could be no more than fifteen of sixteen, was quick to unknot the grander and bulkier looking dabbled, gray mare before going round to its right side to hold onto its saddle. The movements were quick and practiced, this, after all, was not the first time they had had to make a quick getaway, though this was the first dragon, unless you counted Madam Rillat three towns over.