I've taken a break from illustrating and have been gnawing on some ideas for writing. I was feeling a bit inspired and banged this out:
Full tilt! The rider bore down on me his lance leveled at my chest. The horse's hooves threw up great clods of dirt, its eyes wild and nostrils flared. I stood, unmoving, not in some sort of defiant bravery - I was not steeling myself, not preparing to turn the tide against an overmatched foe. Instead I stood inert, my limbs dead at my sides, my mind struggling to process this unexpected situation. And with each galloping stride the horse took, a small voice inside me grew in its insistence that something should be done.
In an instant it was over. A flap of wind brushed across my face as, at the last moment, the horse veered to my left, and plunged into the tall grasses behind me. A tremendous crash of armor and mass thundered out, as the rider landed his blow into an unseen target. A sudden screech of anguish, and a wild thrashing began as the horse struck the ground with its hooves, struggling to account for its abrupt halt, rearing as it attempted to back away from the writhing creature in the grass before it.
The rider reigned in his horse, and slid from its back, his lance now lost to his foe. An unadorned bastard sword hung on his back, and he drew it deftly as he rushed towards the beast he had wounded. Twisted against the long lance that had run it through, the creature vainly warded against the rider. Swiftly the sword sought past the withering defense and drove deep through the monster's head.
Death rattles coursed through the body as the rider pulled his sword out of its victim, wiped it cleanly on the beast's mane, and returned it to its sheath. I saw now the form of this creature, a body as big as a horse, with wicked claws, both front and back. A long snake-like tail strung out behind, still coiling and grasping about even as it died. Its neck was heavy and thick, topped by a coarse black horse's mane, and ended in a bulky head, as if inspired by both a bull and a lizard.
Dumbfounded I stood for a moment before a dull thought formed itself at my lips, "Dragon?"
"No, not a dragon," The rider responded as he retrieved his horse, "his little cousin the drake."
It was then that my attention was drawn to the second rider, this one was armorless and rode a nimbler horse. He had remained on the hill when the armored rider had begun his charge.
"Dragons are things of legends." The second rider called out, "And even if they were to be believed, A dragon would not have been fooled by such tricks, nor would they be so small."
"What tricks?" fell out of my mouth, as my bewilderment continued.
"As terrible their teeth and claws may be, the drakes are the most careful of beasts, and clever." responded the second rider, "They lurk at a distance, and attack while their prey sleeps. However, they may be drawn out by fighting, as they cannot resist the opportunity to turn two wounded foes into one plentiful meal."
As the second rider came down the hill, I began to see that he was an old man, far too old to be a proper squire to what I had assumed was his armored knight. Perhaps fortune or circumstance had not been kind to the knight, but they seemed a strange pair.
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Topic: Random Things you drew/shopped/made/etc. (Read 1348006 times)