The group of slavers sat about their campfire, laughing and singing vulgar songs while their captives trembled at the sound of their course voices. The fire lit up the sandy cave that sat in the side of one of the many hills of the Hadarac Desert.

The leader of the slavers band, a man in his thirties or so with a long black beard, stood and raised his goblet, bellowing for silence. When his companions fell quite, he said, in a coarse voice hoarsened by the desert sands,

"My friends, many a year have we lived of the selling of others, and tonight we celebrate one of our greatest catches!" There were roars of agreement, accompanied by many of the men banging their clubs on the ground. When it was quiet again, the man continued. "Tomorrow, we set out for the city, and when we return here, we will have enough supplies to last us the fall!" Then, turning to point to the captured prisoners in the back of the cave, he said,

"You lot may be sniveling about how life has dealt you a horrible hand, well, be comforted in the knowledge that your suffering, will bring about our prosperity!" Again, roars of agreement echoed throughout the torchlight cavern, this time accompanied by the sobs of the women chained to one another, sitting across from their husbands and fathers.

Suddenly, there was a massive gust of wind, blasting sand into the cavern and putting out the torches. Even the bonfire died down to little more then burning coals. Everyone fell silent in the darkness. The slavers rose to their feet, drawing weapons and looking about nervously. Slowly, they began to talk once more, starting out in hushed voices that soon grew louder.

That was when the noise began. From outside came a low rumbling that could have been dismissed as a far off avalanche, before it grew and grew into a threatening growl, then burst out in a thunderous roar. The men began yelling in terror as a column of flame blasted into the cave, lighting up the image of a massive beast outside with wings that blocked out the full moon.

"Heldar!" Shouted one man, running towards the leader who still had grip on his goblet. "Heldar, what do we do?"

"Do the back cave!" Shouted Heldar, throwing away his goblet and racing for the back of the cave where a small tunnel led to a second cavern, which then led to the other side of the hill. His men rushed after him, leaving the screaming and pleading captives behind. Heldar was in the lead, running frantically in the dark. He knew these caves like the back of his hand. Turning the last corner, he expected to come out into the second cave, which would be lit up by the hole in the ceiling which allowed sunlight and moonlight in. Instead, he ran onto the spear head of a hooded man who carelessly shrugged him off.

The rest of the slavers skidded to a halt once they saw their dead leader lying on the rocky floor. Over his body stood a tall and lean figure, silhouetted by the moonlight and holding what looked to be a double ended spear in his hand. He wore a hood that concealed his face and his robes fluttered about him in the slight breeze. The stranger was motionless for no more then a second, then he leapt among the trembling warriors with cat like agility.

The men fought frantically, waving their swords about in vain attempts to kill the attacker. Some of their blows., however, struck their companions while others cut nothing but air. With ruthless skill and determination, the spear wielding man fought his way threw the closely packed ranks till he reached the back, where he stood for a moment. The remaining slavers had begun fighting one another, thinking to be attacking the hooded man. Upon seeing this, the assailant smirked. Then he roared, his cry echoed by a roar coming from the first cave, most likely caused by the monstrous beast.

Once more thrown into a panic, the slavers ran into the cavern, many dropping their weapons and dashing for the final tunnel, only to find it blocked off by a large stone. Many of them attempted running back down the way they had come, but were stopped by the spear head. Moving out into the open, the strange man began hunting the remaining ten slavers.

The first two he took down easily, tripping on with his spear haft the forcing the other onto his companions upheld sword. While the tripped man gaped at his comrade's blood, the attacker finished him off before moving on. Three were next, two taken out with sharp blows to the backs of their necks from the spear haft while the third attacked with desperation. The two fought in circles for a while, then the hooded man feinted to the right before rolling under the oncoming sword blow, coming up behind the slaver, and finishing him off with a dagger from his belt.

"Five more." Grimaced the man to himself before running on. Four more were cut down while the final, a burly man wielding a broad sword, ran about in desperation. He was just heading for the connecting tunnel, when the hooded man seemed to rise up out of the ground before him. He struck like a snake, aiming for the chest, but the startled warrior deflected the blow with a cry of alarm.

The stranger spun about with lightning speed, whacking the slaver's side with the spear haft, causing him to stumble into a wall while he moved in for the kill. With a cry of rage, the slaver struck out again and again, desperation lending him skill. AT one point, he grabbed hold of the spear, yanking it from the other man's grasp and tossing it aside. With a triumphant gleam in his eyes, he ran towards the now unarmed man. But the stranger would not be defeated that easily.

He rolled to the side, evading the other mans sword before racing for the cave wall, clambering up it with almost inhuman speed. The slaver stared up with opened mouth astonishment. When he had reached a height of easily twenty feet, the hooded man pushed off of the cave wall, turning as he did so and drawing a knife from his belt. He landed feet first on the astounded slaver's chest, then buried the blade in his throat.

"Die knowing that you were killed by a rider." Hissed the hooded man through clenched teeth. When he was sure his victim was dead, he got to his feet, looking down at the stricken man for a moment, then sheathing his dagger and collecting his spear. Then he marched out the open tunnel, returning to the main cave. Once there, he found the captured people had been freed, their broken shackles lying on the ground, and the once provision filled cavern now emptied. Instead, in the cave crouched a massive ice blue dragon, turning to watch him approach. With ease, the man mounted his steed, who turned to stride out the cave entrance.

Men will do desperate things in desperate times. The dragon's thoughts said, appearing in the man's head.

I agree. He replied. Then, as the dragon took to the night sky with powerful wing strokes, he looked out over the desert below, wondering how much longer his home would be plagued by the consequences of war.