Snowmelt Wood

Sharp hissing filled the air as arrows began to fly in, unerringly hitting the mark and taking down sentry after sentry. Still there were too many men left too close to the downed man and the arrows had stopped as quickly as they had begun. Suddenly an earsplitting roar shook the air and made the men jump. A woman landed in their midst, snatching up the fallen sword and then swinging with practiced precision at the group. Three men were down. Four. Five. The remaining few sentries turned and fled as Thunderstroke walked over to help Summersong to his feet. “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of the battle tonight?” he yelled half-heartedly at her, taking her hand and getting up. “The archers had to transport out, a large group of sentries is coming up the road behind them and they were in an exposed area! Quickly! We have to get those people out! THUNDER!” she shouted up into the air and the large amethyst dragon settled down to the ground.