choose your own adventure, episode 20a

KNIGHT SWORD, EPISODE 20A

You stumble away from the battlements, the sound of your father’s agonized wails filling you with horror and guilt. Yet some part of your mind insists that you really, really need to find out what was making that faint whistling noise.

You turn around just in time to see a dark shape drop from the sky, its wings blotting out the moonlight.

The creature looks like a horse-sized dragon, with huge leathery wings stretching out on either side. Fangs sprout from its mouth, and talons from its limbs. Its long tail ends in a series of barbs, dripping black with poison.

A wyvern.

On the creature’s back sits one of Vlacht’s red-armored orcish soldiers, guiding the wyvern with long leather reins.

You scream, and throw yourself down with the others. Just in time – the wyvern swoops overhead, its poisoned tail lashing at the air where you stood. The wyvern snarls in outrage and rises into the air, wings flapping as it gains altitude for another attack.

Then Curtwall springs back to his feet, lifting his staff, its runes ablaze with harsh blue light. An instant later azure lightning screams out of the night sky, ripping into the wyvern and its orcish rider. The blast rips beast and orc apart into a raging fireball.

And by the light of the fireball, you can see a score more of the wyvern riders circling overhead. Far more than even Curtwall’s magic can manage.

Curtwall sees it, too.

“Inside!” he roars. “Inside the chapel, quickly! Quickly!”

You sprint down the stairs into the monastery’s courtyard after the others, your mind racing. If the wyverns force you into the monastery proper, that means Curtwall and his magic can no longer guard the wall. Which means that Vlacht and his orcs can swarm unopposed into the ruined monastery. The orcs will overwhelm you, and take you alive before Ulmoch.

Where he can do the same thing to you that’s making your father scream so horribly…

“Rosalyn!” shouts Dietrich.

You look up just in time to see one of the wyvern riders fling something small and dark at you. A clay sphere, and as you duck it shoots over your head and shatters at your feet. Immediately a pool of flame, ten feet wide, erupts at your feet, cutting you off from the others, and you stumble back in alarm.

And as you do, you see one of the wyverns swooping towards you, fanged mouth yawning wide, poisoned tail drawn back to strike…

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