...Hide behind the Knight
The good Knight takes your hand in his vicelike grip, pulling you behind him as he makes a mad dash for cover. There awaits his horse, which he helps you mount. The Dragon, maddened by the prospect of his next meal escaping, attempts to scortch you and the Knight. Narrowly escaping, the terrified horse plunges headlong away from the feild holding the dragon. You pintch your eyes shut against the stinging wind and hear the Knight's powerful voice urging his steed ever onward.
The ride lasts for what seems like an eternity to your frightened and weary mind. At last you feel the hose beginning to slow, it's quick, steady pace slowing into a somewhat jarring trot. You open your eyes and find yourself at a crossroad, two signs marking each way. One says "To Dirkinsby", the other says "To Worthchestor".
"The sky darkens," says the Knight, and glancing upwards you see that it is true. "Nightfall is upon us - we should get to a village quickly. Which way do you propose? Each has good inns. Dirkinsby you will not find such a welcome place, but there are many skilled warriors who perhaps can help you fight the dragon, if you gain their trust. I have friends in Worthchestor who will aid you, but they are not so keen to fighting at all. The choice is your's."
You twist in the saddle slightly and look at the Knight with a startled look - you? Fight the dragon? It had never occured to you to try... you finger the dragon design hanging about your neck unconcously. It must mean *something*, if your grandomother really was who this night say she was...
You decide then and there where you will go, and what you will do there. You turn to the Knight and say...
