Here is my story Dragons Blood.Kudos to those who see where i used a few names XD Hope you enjoy!
Kireth sighed, trudging through the empty field. Once a battlefield, now nothing grew here.He had nothing…no home…no family…nothing. All that had been stripped from him on this very field. He stifled back his emotions, now coming upon the rubble that once was his home. He stepped through the long gone doorway, and looked around.
Nature had not taken its time in reclaiming this place. He imagined what it had been not even a year ago…coming back from his knight lessons…his mother and father welcoming him with a roast chicken…wine…a warm home….He sat in the remain of his favorite chair, and it promptly broke, landing him on the ground….ashes. He didn’t move though. He was lost in thought. Lost in the time before his knighthood…when he had been happy and he had never known misery.23 years of age, he was only a year along as a knight, and already he wished he had never become one.
One month after he had completed his training, he had been called to a battle against raiders. They had been ransacking villages, as well as farming towns. He had heard they were attacking his home, and he had rushed to the figth, only to find his hometown ablaze, the cries and screams of agony filling the air. He had fought his way to his home, only to find it already burned to the ground, his family slain.
A sudden noise woke Kireth out of his reverie. A small group was picking their way through the village , picking what they could from the wreckage. Revulsion and hatred rose within him, and he jumped to his feet, longsword in hand. He strode forward to deal with these vultures.He had no tolerance for brigands that fed off misery and death.
One of the men stopped and pointed out Kireth to his three other companions. They laughed, and quickly made their way towards Kireth. Kireth quietly grasped his necklace…a necklace made from apparent dragon scales. His mother had given it to him, and he cherished it, whether dragons were real or not.
One man, apparently the leader, sized up Kireth for a moment,, then burst out laughing.” Hey, I know this runt! He wuz ‘er when the place got burn t’ the ground.” He laughed.
Kireth was trembling. He knew who this man was. He was one of the marauders that had burned the village to the ground. “You…you….leave here. Now!” He almost yelled.
The man laughed again. “What should we do Bork? Rough him up a bit?” One of the minions asked the leader.
Bork shrugged. “Do what you want with the fancy little knight. I get all the loot.” He said. The other three groaned, but drew their swords.
Kireth growled to himself, pulling out his kite shield. His mind was racing. These men obviously weren’t too smart. Their gear wasn’t very protective either. His training had taught him to think on his feet. A knight always evaluates his options. The men charged, while Kireth used his hatred to give him strength.
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