The musical twang of arrows hissed from orcish archers. Feeling them shoot by your face, you squeezed yourself onto the hide of your dragon's neck. Drak roars in agony as an arrow slams into his hide, temporarily knocking him off balance.
RAge exploded in your heart as blood dripped from him. You hated those orcs, not only because they were the enemy of mankind, but that they had hurt your friend. You instinctively start to reach for your assault rifle but stop yourself. Wait, they don't have guns in LOTR!!
Instead you pull out your bow and aim for a couple of orcs climbing one of the ladders. You pull the string back and fire, impaling them with ease. Regripping your mount, you switch your gaze and notice another ladder. With a quite motion you shoot across the battlefield and knock out the support, sending all the orcs plummeting to the ground.
You let out a triumphant grunt, the dragoners expertise in combat spanned all ages. If only modern day combat were so glorious.
Suddenly, DRak gets hit again, this time in the base of the wing. "Gil!! We can't stay up here much longer!! We must land!!" he cries as he grimmaces at his wounds. Drak hadn't been hit to badly, and you thought you'd be able to stay up longer, but the orcs below were chipping away at the human defenders. So, do you
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