Halfway across the village, the fight seemed to be going well for Ferenic and his group. Several platoons of enemy soldiers had been routed, though the neighborhood they sought to protect had suffered a great deal of damage. After nearly a full afternoon of battle, it seemed the fighting had stopped – for now, at least.
“What’s the next step, master?” one of the shamen asked.
Taking a few moments to think, Ferenic finally replied: “We need to fortify. They will probably be more coming in soon. Find a building – preferably one still standing, and we’ll set that up as our central point.”
Several of the men nodded and headed out.
“So… it seems the war goes well for you, young Ferenic.”
The voice sounded both familiar and friendly, so Ferenic turned to greet the man to whom it belonged. Only when he turned around, the scene changed from the village to all white. Literally: the ground, the sky, everything – all white.
Quickly enough Ferenic realized what had happened.
“Nice try, lizard. I know you can’t hold me here against my will.”
With an uproarious laugh, the Red Dragon appeared – in his usual human form with the long black hair, yellow eyes, and spiked plate armor.
“You’re absolutely right. I can’t hold you here. Unfortunately for you, I also don’t have to show you the way out. Let me know when you’re ready to be reasonable; I’ll be right here.”