Walk the Dragon Wing

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Kilm jabbed his spear through the stomach of a hobgoblin. Blood and guts splattered across his clothes and skin. A small triumphant smile flickered across his face, but it was soon replaced by grim determination. A determination rimmed with exhaustion and filled with the need to survive.

A deep breath shuddered through his lungs as he gasped for air. Sweat covered him like a second skin. Each attack, every block, sent an aching pain through his tired muscles. Kilm was a scholar, not a warrior. He belonged in a library, carefully studying an old text written in a script long forgotten, not on a battlefield with blood dripping down the stem of his spear and sticking his fingers together. But that didn't mean he was going to give up. It didn't mean he was going to throw his weapon down and surrender. It just meant he had to be a little smarter to compensate for his complete lack of skills. Lucky for him, smart was something he had a surplus of.

A metallic spider stumbled towards Kilm. Its long spindly legs pierced the bodies of the fallen, lifting them up like a puppeteer would their lifeless puppets, before the bodies fell to the ground once again. Kilm choked back a scream as he stared into the giant spider's numerous green eyes.

Kilm continued not to scream as he stabbed his spear into one of those creepy eyes. Silver blood, thick and cold as ice, spewed out on to Kilm, adding more color to his already rainbowed chest. The arachnid clicked its pincers in anger and reared its front most legs. Kilm tried to take a step back, but his legs were blatantly refusing to cooperate. Stuck in place with paralyzing fear, he raised his spear and closed his eyes. He waited for the end to come. Waited. Waited. And waited...

A cold substance rained down on him. He opened his eyes hesitantly, silver dripping across his vision. The spider twitched above him, pierced by the end of his spear. Kilm dropped the spear in surprise and took a step back. The spider's writhing body collapsed on the ground, burying the spear beneath it.

"Brilliant..." Kilm muttered, looking around for a new weapon. He hoped nothing would decide to challenge him before he found one.

No such luck. A menacing lizalfos, twice Kilm's size at least, marched towards him. Blood and gore stuck to the end of the sword it held in a scaled claw, its other hand holding an equally dirty sword. The lizalfos hissed as it stalked forward, eyeing Kilm as a hunter would their prey.

Kilm stumbled back, his eyes never straying from the lizalfos. Another mistake. He slipped on a body and fell to the dirt. His hands searched wildly for a weapon as the monster continued to make its way closer. He couldn't find anything of use.

"Goddesses, if this is to be the end.... So be it," he whispered, staring up at the eclipsed sky. A hand strong as stone and holding a heavy sword passed through his view. Then there was a sound akin to an explosion and Kilm was splattered with even more gore.

"Why are you staring up at the sky, shadow brother?" a Goron asked, grabbing Kilm roughly by the arm and pulling him up.

"I... Thank you!" Kilm wasn't dead! He was still alive, if a little bruised on the arm.

"Goro," the Goron called, rushing away to obliterate something else. Before he was out of earshot though, Kilm thought he heard the Goron puzzling over something... "No puny Hylian would ever be able to beat an elder... He must have cheated!" Whatever that meant, Kilm didn't know.

He still needed a new weapon, so he grabbed the two swords that the lizalfos had wielded. One of the swords looked to be a Twili's weapon... with a curved blade of deathly sharp darkened metal and etched with teal designs. Kilm hated to think of what must have happened to the Twili to make them lose such a pretty sword. It couldn't have been an accident... The other sword was of boring steel with a plain handle.

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