The moon hung high in the black mid-night sky, the stars shinning bright like streetlights. There was a soft wind blowing peacefully from the forest to the small tavern. It was a quiet tavern, not many people came as it was out in the middle of nowhere. It’s only surroundings for miles were a huge forest. It contained a multitude of creatures including wolves, unicorns and the odd centaur or two. But on this very night, there was another creature in the forest, one that shouldn’t be there at all…

Inside the tavern it was more or less empty as usual. The fireplace at the far end of the room had a shelf of various things that customers had given the tavern, for its hospitality and warm welcoming. The fire itself was burning brightly, consuming log after log to keep itself alight. Directly across from the fire was the thing that made the tavern a tavern. Without it, it would be nothing more than a room full of tables and chairs; this was the bar.

It was full of near enough every kind of drink that you could imagine, from just plain water to champagne. The most popular drink of course was the ale; men were always in there drinking it. It was an addiction to some of them, but it wasn’t always the ale they came in for. Behind the bar stood a beautiful serving wench. She had long blond hair that always seemed to be tied up in a bun, and gorgeous round green eyes which when you looked into it was as though nothing else in the world mattered or existed. But there is no need to concern yourself about her for the moment; the guy we want was sitting in far corner of the room where the light from the fire couldn’t reach very well.

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As the tall dark figure of the man got up and headed towards the bar, the strong light from the fireplace illuminated his face along with the rest of him. He had spiked jet-black hair and dark brown eyes, but what made him stand out were his ears. They were pointed at the tops of them. He was an elf. Apart from the ears there was no way of really telling he wasn’t human. He dressed the same as humans, a short-sleeved emerald green shirt with buttons going all the way up it and fairly baggy brown trousers that were covered in grass stains and holes of allsorts of sizes. His feet were bare and just by looking at them you could tell where he had been before he came to the tavern. They were covered in dried up mud and full of scratches were he had walked and brushed past sharp objects.

As he finally came to the bar the lady behind it gave a light curtsy followed by a sweet and innocent smile. He leaned his elbows down on the bar top after returning a short bow to the woman.

“Could I get a whiskey….” He said in a fairly deep but non-violent voice, but before he could finish his sentence the barmaid had already poured a tankard of ale and placed it down in front of where he was standing. The guy glanced down at the ale and then returned his view quickly to the beautiful woman. “Oh err…thank you m’lady.”

“That wasn’t what you wanted, was it sir?” she gasped as she realised the mistake she so dopily made. “It’s just that, that’s what most people order. Please forgive me sir…”

“There’s no mistake ma’am, a wanted ale.” He scooped up the tankard containing ale swiftly with his rough and forceful right hand. Then took a rapid but large gulp of the brown liquid inside it.

“Oh, good. I thought I had made a terrible blunder,” she spoke calmly, feeling relieved. She knew that he didn’t ask for ale at the beginning, but she didn’t want to cause an argument of any sort. “So what brings a guy like you to a place like his?” she asked.

“Nothin’ really, just wandering around.” He replied somewhat quickly. He didn’t like to talk about his business often; it tended to scare people away. But if you must know, he was an assassin. He killed for a living. Not exactly a pretty job to do, blood and death all around him, but it him it was just an occupation. He didn’t care about his victims’ family and how they would feel. All he cared about was his money after finishing his task. But yet, he wasn’t a cold hearted man. In fact, he was quite the opposite. He did care about natural and the well being of his kind.

“What about you ma’am? Why do you work in a place like this?” he asked, whilst taking a quick glance around the room. “Surely, you could have any man you wanted and raise up a nice family.”

“Maybe so, but sitting around a small house cleaning, cooking, looking after children while my husband goes out into the wild to hunt, socialise in taverns like this and bring in the money. I don’t think so sir!” She ended quickly. She now looked slightly tensed. The wench grabbed a nearby, dirty glass and began to clean it up, her facial expressions showing that she no longer wanted to talk. The elf realizing this, pulled a sparkling silver out of one of his many pockets and placed it gently down on the bar top.

“That’s for the drink m’lady, my name, by the way, is Draco.” And with that he finished. He headed back to his seat in the gloomy corner, leaving his drink still on the bar. He left it there accidentally? Well the answer to that is no. He thought that if he left it there then maybe the maid would bring it over to him and he could talk to her some more. He liked her a lot, even though he tried so show no sign of it what so ever. Surely enough, his plan did work, believe it or not. She took the tankard, not so full anymore as he had drunk some out, over to Draco. Then, she pulled up another chair and sat down on it next to the elf. Draco took the tankard away from her softly and placed it down on the table that they were sitting around.

“I’m sorry about that sir, I didn’t mean to…. oh what am I doing?” she asked herself. “You don’t want me around you now after that. I’ll go and leave you in peace.” She went for stand up, but the elf grasped her arm gently.

“No, please don’t go. I understand why you were upset. It was wrong of me to ask you. If anything, it should be I that goes.” The serving wench went for sit down, but before she could there was a deafening roar which shook the whole of the tavern. Pots and bottles from behind the bar fell to the ground, smashing as they came to touch with the solid wooden planks of the tavern floor. The woman now screaming dived under the table they were around, shaking like a leaf. The elf leaped up into the air, swiftly grabbing his Lance. The lance was made of a five-foot mahogany pole, with an incredibly sharp dagger strapped to the top of it using a strong rope. Draco ran over to the window facing the forest and peered out of it.

There was a gigantic, dark figure heading at a high speed towards the tavern. It knocked down tree after tree as it cut through the forest with ease. As it came to the edge of the forest, the glow off the moon and the light that shone from the tavern illuminated the creature. It was a dragon. It stud about twenty feet in height, covered in crimson scales. It’s hard bony tail swung from side to side behind it’s back, cracking the jade grass like a whip. The dragons large head raised high up into the air, it’s eyes staying fixed upon the small tavern.

Without any warning, it fired a blast of fire from it wide sinister mouth. The flames shot through the tavern’s window like a flame thrower, the elf just managing to dive out of the way of the intense blaze. The serving wench on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. The table she was under caught fire. Still screaming, she ran from under the table, her clothes dipped into the fire and caught alight as well. The maid herself was now burning, her used to be blond hair was now scolded and black like ash.

The dragon blew another blast of fire, this time it the wooden walls of the tavern. The elf looked around the room, panicking. He wanted to help the woman; he really did. But he knew that he couldn’t. She was beyond help now, for a blazing beam had fallen from the support of the roof landing right in front of the wench. Draco tried his best to block out the wailing of the maid, but it seemed to echo though his mind. Not being able to make a decision to risk saving her or not, he let his assassin training come into play. Concentrating on his own well being and selfishness, he dived through the window. As he came to land on the grass outside, he did a forward roll and came up, landing on his feet.

The mighty dragon was now right before his eyes. Instantly, dropping his lance, which he still had with him, he yanked out to small but extremely sharp daggers. Thinking for a second on what to do with them, the dragons red eyes wandered away from the tavern and settled upon the elf. Draco had never fought a dragon before, he didn’t know much about their strengths and weaknesses. He only knew that they had a weak spot, which was right in the middle of his neck. That was where he had to attack. His two small daggers may have been sharp but they were nowhere near long enough to cut though it’s thick skin. Also, the dragon would of most certainly of stopped the lance or the daggers from hitting him as he was staring at Draco and carefully watching his every movements.

Then the idea appeared into Draco’s minds as if by magic. Not thinking his plan over one bit, he raised both daggers above his head. He threw them forcefully at the dragon, aiming for his eyes. They soared through the air at a rapid speed. Before the dragon knew what had hit him, both blades had pierced straight through its eyes. Moaning in pain, it began to swing its head around like a horse gone mad.

The scaly tail of the dragon came whipping around at Draco. The elf leaped up into the air, but the tail caught the bottom of his feet. He fell to the ground, the tail coming back for another attack. Draco suddenly hopped to his feet and then back-flipped out the way, landing by his lance. Grabbing his lance immediately, Draco launched it into the air. The lance flew through the air, cutting the air easily. It gathered speed as it went, getting faster and faster. The sharp point sparkling in the moonlight. First the tip hit the neck of the dragon and then the rest of it glided into the collar. It sliced through like a hot knife through butter. Blood poured out of the wound like a waterfall, flooding the ground below. There was one thing that the elf hadn’t thought about though. Where was the dragon to land? It collapsed face forward, falling straight at Draco.

The elf knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. He knew that his time had come. He was going to die, and it didn’t really bother him. In someway he was actually relieved. After all the suffering he had caused to others and the fact that he felt it was his fault that the maid had died, he didn’t mind dying. It was as though his entire life was flashing before him. He could remember every murder he ever committed. Then, with a loud thud, the dragon landed face first on top of the elf.

The crushed elf, slayed dragon and burnt barmaid were all that was left on that particular night. The forest had caught fire from the burning tavern. Animal’s habitats had been destroyed. Animals themselves were burnt alive. Trees and plants were nothing but piles of ashes, the odd few still standing, barely. And the tavern…Well, that was gone within a matter of minutes. As soon as the alcohol behind the bar had caught fire, the whole tavern blew up. Glass amongst other things shattered everywhere around the area. No one could have survived, or could they…


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