Chapter 1
It is dawn at Vulture Drifts. The sun is just starting to reach over the desert and Dune Lizards can be heard scattering through the sand, eager to earn another day on Tyria by winning some less deserving creature as prey.
While the Hydras still sleep, the Dune Lizards would be safe, had there not been a less than usual inhabitant among the dunes: a Human, creeping up with keen and expert hunting skill, keeping his presence unknown; staying hidden from sight and sound.
He slowly raised his left arm in front of him and within his grip he held a superbly well crafted, dark-wood bow. With his right hand he placed an arrow onto it, resting on his supple hand that gripped the bow and drew it tight. Only staying taught for a second to perfect his aim, he let loose from it a swift and deadly shaft, aimed at an unsuspecting dune lizard just a short distance in front of him. It hit the dune lizard, in the centre of its spine, where the neck meets the head. the creature’s limbs loosened and he fell to the ground under the weight of death.
The sun now rising in full glory with no darkness to hide any timid creature. The Human that had just claimed a dune lizard as prey was now in full sight; not excersising any stealth as he hauled his kill back to a corner of Vulture Drifts that he called his home. Clenching the creature’s head effortlessly with his right hand, bow slung over his back.
The roars of mighty Hydras could now be heard rolling over the dunes as they awaken; monstrous, shrilling cries that would strike fear in anyone’s heart. But still the human strolled through the sand with his kill, taking his time, his long, blond hair and long, tattered jacket boasting many old war wounds were flowing over the gentle desert breeze.
He got back to his abode – a small den that had been constructed out of rocks and hidden expertly in the sand – and dropped his kill there on the ground. Hydras could be heard outside in small packs stalking for prey, their large feet sinking gently into the sand under their great weight. Each head of each hydra was breathing heavy, beastly breaths. Still the Human; indifferent to the threats lurking so close by, got out a knife and started carving the meat off of his pray in his dark, quiet den.
He sat there, eating uncooked slivers of lizard meat. Then once he had his fill, he moved the bloody corpse of his prey to a further corner of his den. He then removed his jacket and lied down near the opening of the den in the soft sand and rested.
