The Land of Dust
Chapter 1: Run
Willow's combat boots hit the ground hard as she ran, breathless, through the seemingly endless scrap yard. She could hear them behind her now, they were so close. The young redheaded girl had been running for at least half an hour, but the men and they're dogs wouldn't let out. She breathed shallowly and panted as her weakening legs kept her going, dodging overhanging junk and dangerous spikes of rusted metal.
The scrap yard seemed to slope upwards, Willow kept on running. Determined to escape. She reached the peak of a small cliff where she stopped, bending over with her hands on her knees whilst she tried to catch her breath. Across the endless miles of junk and scrap she saw the Fortress of Drakemoor looming over the land. Curiosity had gotten the best of the young woman and she'd decided to see the fabled Fortress for herself.
There it is... great, it looks like a regular old fortress... except slightly... massively bigger and possibly more deadlier. Well that was a waste of time... now I'm gonna die! Great job Willow... should of just stayed at Silverfall.
Upon turning around Willow saw the Drakemoor guardsmen and their hounds approaching rapidly, weaving in and out of the junk . It was obvious they had done this a lot. Willow whipped her head back round again, and considered her options. It was either try and use some Magick against them, try and poke them with a penknife or jump. Magick was out of the question, she was far too weak and not to mention a novice at the ancient craft. Her penknife was utterly useless. But the fall couldn't of been more than 10 metres.
Dammit! I gotta jump... they'll slit my throat... oh damn... JUST JUMP ROSENBERG!
Willow didn't have enough time for a run up, she just jumped. Not looking back once. The impact of her body onto the red, dusty ground felt like a tank had driven straight into her. The redhead stumbled to her feet, brushed her curled hair out of her face and continued her frantic run, determination shining in her green eyes. The redheads leg has been injured badly, her attempt at a roll when landing was somewhat successful but didn't soften the fall as much as she would of preferred. Her dark jeans had been thoroughly dirtied by the thick, red dust and her grey, bleach stained hoodie had been torn and ripped.
The painful chase continued, for a moment Willow believed she had a chance and might even make it out of this mess alive. The sneaky redhead began pulling down debris and junk across the makeshift paths as she ran, in an attempt to slow down her pursuers. It helped slightly, the now frustrated guards were flagging as they climbed over and dodged the obstacles. Willow herself was in no good shape, her body weakened and screamed in pain as she continued. Fuelled only by her determination and the desire to see the forests of Silverfall once more.
You can do this Willow! Come on... you were raised a fighter... okay... no you weren't, you were technically raised a flower picker... Damnit! Aunt Wilma, couldn't you of taught me... I don't know... martial arts or archery... why did it have to be herbalism?!
Caught up in her thoughts, the redhead's foot caught on a piece of rusting metal jutting out of the ground. As soon as the girl had realised her mistake she was flying through the air. This time when she hit the ground, she didn't get up. All she remembered was hearing the barking of the dogs and seeing black. Complete darkness.