Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

eyes.
    Samuel saw the arrow coming a split second before it struck him on the leg. It was a brief instant, no more than a blink of an eye, but it was enough for his brain to register his failure. He had been spotted just a few steps away from his goal and he would now pay the price for his recklessness.
    As soon as the foam head of the plastic arrow hit his thigh, Samuel put a hand over the spot to simulate an injury, raised his eyes to the sky, and let himself fall to the ground. As he shrieked in simulated pain, a second arrow hit him square on the chest and killed him on the spot.
    “They’re trying to gain entry into the tower from the north,” yelled the archer from above.
    “Damn it!” said Samuel.
    He could hardly believe it. How could he have been so reckless? He turned his head. Thomas and Tony lay on the ground as well, felled by the blows of the foam swords wielded by those who had surprised them from the dormitory. Samuel looked at the tower. It was so close—just a few steps from where he had fallen.
    Samuel let his head rest on the ground. At least he had been lucky to die on a green patch of grass, which was undeniably more comfortable than the gravel that encircled the tower. He would have hated to tear holes in the leather pants that his sister had given him for his birthday a few days earlier. He reached out to touch the spot where the first arrow had hit his leg. The impact had been a little more painful that he had anticipated. Even though the head was made of foam, the shaft of the arrow was solid graphite and he would probably have a small contusion in the morning.
    Samuel returned his attention to the ongoing battle. His team, whose members wore red armbands to identify them, was defending itself relatively well against the enemy, who wore blue ones. Now that the less-experienced players had been dispatched—which apparently included Samuel—the best swordfighters were going at it with more gusto.
    One of Samuel’s team members held a sword in each hand. At the moment, he was facing two foes while a third was preparing an attack from behind. The Briton player pivoted slowly, holding his swords vertically in front of him and forcing his enemies to turn with him. One of the two Saxons facing the warrior suddenly launched an attack, but missed his target. The Briton warrior quickly grabbed the arm of his assailant and pushed him toward his other assailant, who cursed as his teammate’s sword struck his chest. He fell to the ground, imitating Samuel and feigning death.
    The third Saxon raised an enormous foam hammer and brought it down with all his might. The Briton barely had time to duck and swivel, ending with his back against the hammer-wielding Saxon’s. In one quick move, he thrust both his swords at the body of his foe, who fell to the ground.
    At the same time, the first Saxon warrior, who had missed his initial attack, launched himself at the Briton, who now had his back turned to him. However, the Briton warrior crouched down to avoid the attack, and his sword once again missed its target. The Briton turned and quickly executed a three-strike combination into his foe’s ribs. The Saxon finally collapsed to the ground next to his two companions.
    “Wow!” said Thomas, who had also been watching. “That guy knows how to fight.”
    Samuel could not turn away from the Briton warrior, who was wearing a helmet that hid his face and a chainmail vest made of realistic foam. His forearms were protected by pieces of armor made of the same material, and he wore cargo pants. Samuel could not remember seeing the warrior when they had arrived the previous night and could not guess who he was.
    The mysterious warrior suddenly turned toward Samuel, Thomas, and Tony, and walked over to them. When a Saxon leapt into his path, the Briton warrior jumped onto a nearby table and turned a somersault over the head of the enemy warrior, who was left speechless. Without slowing down, the Briton then struck him in the back of the neck. A second enemy tried to block his advance, but the Briton slid between his legs, stabbing him the belly while doing so. As he rolled back to his feet, he threw one of his swords at a third foe, who had just come out of the tower. The poor Saxon hesitated a moment, unsure of what had just happened, but when he saw that Samuel was looking at him, he wisely lowered himself to the ground and feigned death as well.
    Samuel had never seen anyone fight like this. Even when he