I watched from a distance as the warband descended on the hunters, clicking my tongue in appreciation as I saw the Drakespawn they were riding moving like shadows, their scaled bodies cutting through the tall grass with an eerie silence.
The Drakespawn I was riding eyed me, as if complaining that it was not among its kind, and I petted it again, drawing what I thought was an eyeroll from the beast.
The warband rode low in their saddles, weapons drawn, eyes fixed on their prey, and the hunters did not notice them until it was too late.
Ruggah was the first to reach them. His glaive swept through the air in a wide arc, and the blade caught the nearest rider, a human with a scarred face and long red hair, across the chest. The man had time to look down at the wound, to see the impossible depth of it, before his body separated into two pieces and fell from his mount in a spray of blood and viscera.
