Adventure of Azritha Stormborn 1

The cart jolts over frozen ruts, its iron-rimmed wheels groaning beneath a sky the color of old steel. Rope bites into Azritha Stormborn's numb wrists behind her back.

Imperial soldiers ring the wagon with drawn swords. Other prisoners huddle in silence as Skyrim's bitter wind sweeps down from the mountains.

A younger guard lowers his blade, staring at the sealed writ in the captain's hand. The wax bears the Imperial dragon, but a second order hangs from his belt, marked for immediate release.

Edrin reaches toward the captain's scroll case. At that instant, a thunderous roar rolls across the distant peaks, and every horse shies against its traces.

Maerovan's hand closes around the list naming every captive. He turns toward Azritha Stormborn as black wings briefly eclipse the pale sun.

Through the gap above the cart's rim, Azritha Stormborn sees the silhouette resolve into a vast dragon, its black wings beating against the pale sun. The shadow is no bird or cloud, but a living dragon circling above the convoy, close enough to cast its shape across the snow.

No. The dragon does not dive upon the convoy. Instead, its shadow sweeps onward toward the road ahead, and the soldiers below break formation as if the true danger lies beyond the next bend.

The answer is worse than an attack: the convoy is already moving into the dragon's path.

Edrin looks from Azritha to the captain's raised arm. The younger guard's fear hardens into a decision.

Therefore Edrin cuts the rough rope behind Azritha's back. Her hands come free, but the knife slips from his grip and clatters loudly against the cart floor.

The clatter draws every nearby soldier's gaze. Beyond them, the dragon's shadow turns across the road, and the convoy's broken ranks leave Azritha an opening.

Azritha Stormborn launches through the gap in the broken ranks, boots striking frozen ruts as soldiers stumble aside.

She clears the convoy's cordon and reaches the wind-carved snowbank beyond it. The road, the prisoners, and the startled guards fall behind her.

Her sprint costs her: a jagged buckle tears across her sleeve and scratches her forearm, leaving a thin line of blood in the snow.

Behind Edrin, the Imperial Captain thrusts the prisoner list into a soldier's hands and points toward Azritha's tracks.

The black dragon's shadow sweeps over Azritha's refuge. Snow bursts from the roadside stones as its unseen wings beat somewhere beyond the ridge.