‘A flock of doves takes flight, alarmed by the sudden crumbling of stone. Across the ruins, the form of a large reptile rises from its slumber. I look to my adventuring companions as I reach for my holy symbol.
“Dragon,” someone whispers. I was never sure who. Kain reaches for his javelin as we see the creature’s maw and horrible, glowing eyes crest the wall. It’s eight legs lift it over with ease as the structure cracks like spiderwebs. It was most definitely not a dragon. Our group was never known for our heroism. We start to run, barely looking back to see Quinn’s falcon crash to the ground, grey and made of stone. There was no sense of relief when we were finally safe. We knew that any one of us could have suffered the same fate as that bird.’