One by one, lights appeared throughout Lyveria as I watched from the hillside, but not before I heard the screams. It was too late.
Before I could organize my thoughts, the first dragons landed on the city walls. You could hear the rock breaking under the weight of the dragons.
The already sparsely equipped night watch had no chance of repelling the attack. Casually the men were thrown from the walls by the dragons, like maggots.
What should I do now? Start a suicide mission? With my simple bow and the few arrows in my quiver, the situation was hopeless.
But there was hope! In the city's cathedral there was a priest who, it is said, was extremely gifted with magic. Given the church's views on magic, a rarity.
So I spurred my horse on again. The city gate had already been broken into. Well, out of sheer destructiveness, and not because dragons walked obediently through the gate ...
I rode through the gate, hoping not to be spotted by the raging dragons. Most of them circled high above the city and particularly attacked the city guards who were desperately trying to defend themselves.
In the corner of my eye I kept seeing charred bodies lying on the street. Anyone who was struck by lightning from these dragons had no chance.
I tried to ignore the surroundings as much as possible and rode as close as I could to the walls directly to the cathedral.
The large square in the middle of the city where the cathedral was build was reached quickly. The lights were on in the splendid church and I hoped to find unlocked doors.
They were unlocked!
I entered quickly and closed the door behind me only to be overwhelmed by a bestial stench.
The local priests tried to save some burned victims from certain death. A hopeless endeavor.
I saw the priest I was looking for and immediately hurried to him. At first he denied wanting to use his gift against the dragons, because, according to the church, magic was something reprehensible. What folly in the face of the situation.
Finally, I was able to convince him to step onto the pitch.
As soon as the door was opened the dragons froze for a moment. As if they heard a loud shout. After a short stare, however, they all turned their heads to the priest, who stood like a target in the deserted square.
The priest immediately started mumbling something I couldn't understand. His hair was blowing in the nonexistent wind.
The dragons came closer and closer, in a few seconds they would have reached the man and tear him into pieces.
Suddenly a brilliant light emerged from the priest. Like a bubble of pure energy, it spread rapidly.
The dragons were literally devoured by the magic and fell from the sky as if struck by lightning themselves.
The earth shook briefly as the massive bodies hit the ground. After that, nothing but silence.
That man saved the city that night. He asked us not to carry his deeds out into the world, but he has been secretly called "Gromall, Hero of Lyveria" since then.