IMEARLY'S BLOG
ImEarly takes a chance on the horsemen.
Wednesday, May 4, 2005 7:29 PM
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ImEarly examined the horsemen more closely, with the setting sun behind them they appeared to be riding out of flame. It made their armor appear a dull crimson, and their faces like that of demons. Behind them a cloud of dust rose to meet the sun.
ImEarly forsaking the farm, made his way slowly toward the horsemen. The lead rider finally saw him and raised his right arm. In a few paces the massive stallion halted, and so did those behind him. ImEarly also halted, at least twenty men, none who looked friendly were staring intently toward him. The adrenalin poured like a waterfall through his veins, and instantly regretted his inability to flee.
Behind him a terrible screech filled the air, and instinctively he turned to see from where it came. The farm was aflame, its whitewashed walls spotted as its structure gave in to the heat. A slick, swift object made its way toward ImEarly. It flew above his head and continued toward the horsemen behind him. The lead horseman lifted his arm and an arrow pierced the armor protecting the flesh just above his elbow, the arrow clang sharply and quivered in place for a few seconds. The horseman pulled it from the armor and threw it into the grass below him.
“Suit up men!” He shouted over his shoulder.
All of the horsemen reached forward and grabbed handles attached to the shining metal armor that protected the horse’s heads. Kicking their feet forward they jerked the armor backward. The armor stretched backwards like a large flat antennae. It extended three or so feet and the men slid forward, their protection from the arrows significantly enhanced. With a shout from the lead horse rider they simultaneously entered a quick gallop, in ImEarly’s direction.
He turned and ran opposite the charging horsemen, the thundering of the massive hooves behind him shock the ground which threatened to make him collapse. He struggled to maintain his balance just as the first of the horses passed on his right hand side. More of the horses passed him on both sides, and just when he thought he was forgotten two of the horsemen, one left and one right halted beside him.
“Get up you fool,” Said the one to his right. “We don’t have the time to escort you to the city on foot boy.”
He pushed the armor on his left side forward and extended his arm.
ImEarly could think of no alternative, so he took the offered hand and climbed to the top of the horse. As ImEarly fought to make himself comfortable atop the goliath of a horse, the man before him was struck in the neck by an arrow. Like water he glided from his saddle to the grass below, he landed on his back, his eyes wide and vacant, dead where he lay.
“Wyvern riders!” The lead horseman shouted. The men unsheathed swords from nearly hidden sheaths. The rider to his left dismounted and collected the sword from the recently dead.
“My name is Dagon stranger, and you may need this.” He said as he handed the sword to ImEarly. He then quickly remounted his horse and drew his own sword. ImEarly wanted to ask what was going on, and what exactly Wyvern riders were, but he could tell by the calculated look in Dagon’s eyes that now was not the time. The men before ImEarly tore dirt westward, and Dagon slapped the back of his horse, in a matter of moments he and his cold companion were in formation and quickly racing away from the farm. More arrows flew over head, most missed, none killed.
ImEarly’s adrenalin never subsided, and his heart fluttered like a humming bird. The thunderous gallop began to make him queasy, but the thought of death by arrow strengthened his resolve toward the swift flight.
He had as a child ridden horses on his grandparent’s farm, and
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