"Who…what…are they?" asked Sparx, fear in his voice. Spyro was more experienced and began thinking immediately about how to get rid of this crowd. But there were so many…how was he…maybe Sparx…going to solve this one?

"I don't know, but they won't be staying," said Spyro matter-of-factly. This called for more fire power than from just two soldiers…and power wasn't the solution. What he needed was to be able to outsmart the evil-looking crowd of demented…things.

"Come on, we need to wake the others," Spyro said. Sparx followed loyally and they set off to their camp. Spyro's workshop was far away from camp, so if they were ambushed, at least his artillery was safe…

The walk took no time at all at the speed that they were walking at. The desert terrain passed like a blurred mural; the cacti whizzed by like flies. In about ten minutes, Spyro was taking out his key to unlock the camp gate. Maybe a gate was overkill, but hey, what the heck. Better safe than entered through the gate and walked directly toward a tent with a large "5" stitched clear into it. This was the only sleeping tent, and as well the biggest. All of the other tents were used for lit a match and help it up to a small firecracker. He carefully lit it and tossed it away before it exploded in his hand. He threw it away from any of the sleeping bodies, so it wouldn't catch fire to any blankets.

Pop!

In that single noise, the other three, sleeping previously, shot from their beds and banged their heads on the low-hanging bars that hung from the top the tent. The first boy was known as Flame. He was the youngest, most reckless boy Spyro had ever met…besides himself, of course. He was…even for Spyro's age, an extreme pervert. Every time someone tried opening a nut, he busted a gut. He was wearing his maroon work clothes, which happened to be covered in holes from battery acid. He was the bullet-maker of the team. He could make a bullet out of pretty much anything…except for maybe crap…but everything else worked for him. He was a necessity.

The next person, a blonde-haired girl named Ember, rolled out of bed. She was very jittery, and boasted a very flirtatious personality. Every time they settled somewhere for a little while, she seems to make a move on any boy her age. It got quite annoying at times. She was wearing her usual pink dress and heart-shaped pendant around her neck. She was slightly older than Flame, but he was significantly taller and stronger. She was the medic of the team.

The last person was new to the team. His name was Grime, and he had to be the saddest, most depressed person any of the rest of the team had ever seen. He had an unusually unstable mind, and an extremely low self-esteem. He was only an apprentice, yet he was the tallest, strongest member of the team, physically. But he refused to use his skills, unless deep within the heat of battle. That made it very hard for Sparx to teach him the way of the D.R.A.G.O.

What's a D.R.A.G.O.N.? Well, to put it in the simplest terms, it means Delivering Revenge Armed (w/) Guns of Napalm. A rather cheesy name, Spyro chose it. And Grime was supposed to be studying under Spyro, since that was the job he wanted as a soldier, but Spyro couldn't put up with his attitude for long. Sparx was only a F.L.Y. (Flame Liking Youth), but he had been with Spyro long enough to know what to teach Grime.

"Spyro, what was that noise?" Ember asked innocently. Spyro glared down nervously.

"Firecracker," answered Sparx, "but that's not important. We need some help."

"Let me guess…you need us to put our lives on the line again?" asked Grime angrily. Spyro was only in the tent for a few minutes and he was already feeling anger toward the downer.

"If you weren't prepared to die, then why in the name of God and all that is holy did you sign up to be a mercenary?" Spyro retorted. Glaring.

"Spyro- shut up. You too, Grime," interrupted Sparx. "Come on, grab your guns. We have got some serious blasting to do."

To be continued…