A ray of moonlight fell on the sleeping girl's face. Absorbed in her
dreams, she did not appear to hear the soft footsteps of the creature that
entered her bedroom. The orc grinned, raising its scimitar to strike, when
the girl sprang up and buried a dagger in its throat.
A moment later the girl dashed into the main room of her home. She gasped as she saw the body of her father by the door, his blood pooling around him. Weeping, she stumbled out of the house towards the sound of snarling. In her yard, a beautiful Silver Wolf fought with a huge, slobbering warg.
The girl screamed. "Anna!" she cried. The Silver Wolf turned for an instant to glance at her, and that was all the warg needed. It swept out a huge paw. The girl shrieked, but it was too late. The Draega's neck snapped like a twig and she fell to the ground, dead.
With a cry of grief and fury, the girl leapt at the warg, who tossed her aside like a rag doll. As she lay there, dazed, the warg stepped to her, and its form shifted to that of a man. An evil man, with dark hair, sallow skin, and greenish-yellow eyes.
The man spoke, "Foolish girl. I don't kill pups." He smirked. "I doubt I'll remember you, but you, girl, will always remember the name of Draughir." He strode away.
As darkness claimed her, the girl whispered, "I will remember..."
The girl stared at the pyre that, until that night, had been the only home she'd ever known. Now it was her parents' funeral pyre.
A single tear trickled down her sooty cheek, but she wiped it away.
Draughir, she thought savagely. He would pay for the deaths of Dior and Elena.
He will pay with his life.
A single Draega loped away from the charred remains of the farmhouse as the sun breached the horizon. It stopped at the peak of the hill overlooking the valley and turned to look back once. Then, with no ceremony, it loped off into the woods.
A moment later the girl dashed into the main room of her home. She gasped as she saw the body of her father by the door, his blood pooling around him. Weeping, she stumbled out of the house towards the sound of snarling. In her yard, a beautiful Silver Wolf fought with a huge, slobbering warg.
The girl screamed. "Anna!" she cried. The Silver Wolf turned for an instant to glance at her, and that was all the warg needed. It swept out a huge paw. The girl shrieked, but it was too late. The Draega's neck snapped like a twig and she fell to the ground, dead.
With a cry of grief and fury, the girl leapt at the warg, who tossed her aside like a rag doll. As she lay there, dazed, the warg stepped to her, and its form shifted to that of a man. An evil man, with dark hair, sallow skin, and greenish-yellow eyes.
The man spoke, "Foolish girl. I don't kill pups." He smirked. "I doubt I'll remember you, but you, girl, will always remember the name of Draughir." He strode away.
As darkness claimed her, the girl whispered, "I will remember..."
The girl stared at the pyre that, until that night, had been the only home she'd ever known. Now it was her parents' funeral pyre.
A single tear trickled down her sooty cheek, but she wiped it away.
Draughir, she thought savagely. He would pay for the deaths of Dior and Elena.
He will pay with his life.
A single Draega loped away from the charred remains of the farmhouse as the sun breached the horizon. It stopped at the peak of the hill overlooking the valley and turned to look back once. Then, with no ceremony, it loped off into the woods.