Leading the caravan, Armand looked behind him the moment the first cries for the Dragon filled the air. For a short moment, he was stunned by it's impressiveness, but he soon shake it off, knowing he had to spend all his attention to survive. For a moment he cursed at the needless load his brave blackhoof, a large, strong horse, with dark brown fur that ran over his legs into pitch black, was carrying. The bags of gold needed to purchase the maidens, some of their personal belongings that weren't to be trusted in their hands for now and finally that stupid caged toad belonging to one of the maidens, taken along on a whim, in case the king felt like blackmailing one of his maidens into something, they could all have been stalled in one of the cargo wagons, if not for the order to keep close watch on them.
The knight spurred his horse, moving it out of the dragon's initial fiery attack. After he could feel the incinerating heat behind him, he started to zig zag, trying to stay out of any direct attacks. After all, sitting on his mount, he was one of the larger targets, and more likely to be picked upon. He rode towards a big rock not too far away, as he looked over his shoulder, to see the dragon's eyes gaze upon him. He concentrated hard, as he focussed on the syllables of his spell, just in time before he was engulfed in another breath. Even though his divine protection blocked most of the attack, it couldn't prevent scorching him and Blackhoof, while the silly toad was just lucky enough to be at the other side, being shielded by the knight and his mount. Blackhoof buckled slightly, and Armand did his best to regain control and take refuge behind the rock.
As he peered over him, he was engulfed with guilt and regret, as he basically abandoned his men. Yet, what was he to do against a creature of this might? Armand waited for the dragon to focus on something in the other direction, and then gambled on his escape, trying to force blackhoof to speeds he never made before, as they fled from the scene. The king surely would not be happy about hearing this news.
The moment he could see the dragon, Henrik fled the scene in panic. Running headlong towards the forest, he abandoned all sense of order, trying to save his own hide. He ran and ran until his heavy gear and poor constitution forced him to stop, placing an elbow against a tree, sweat running down his neck, shoulders and arms as he tried to regain his breath.
He was a young soldier, recruited not too long ago, and when his officers discovered his weakness, he was usually placed on the silly and mundane tasks, like preparing the food, or taking care of the knights' horses. Clad in the standard uniform, a chain shirt covered by the royal emblem, including a helm, a small steel shield and a short sword on his side, completed with sturdy trousers and boots, he looked around him, not sure what to do now that he was in the safety of the forest, all by himself.
He heard sounds from two directions, happily thinking there were other soldiers that made it here as well, that knew what to do now a lot better than poor Henrik would. But to his surprise they were not soldiers, but maiden. The first was a tall woman, with black hair and a gray dress, while the second was an elf with long blond hair, her clothes decorated with a pink ribbon. As he drew his sword, clueless as what to do, he could see a third maiden appear between the trees, a curlyhaired brunette, wearing a simple gown. It took a mere second before the maidens spotted both each other and the soldier. "Move back!" the soldier yelled at them. "Don... don't come any closer!"