Unrelenting rain pelted the countryside with a fury akin to a shower of musket balls. Yet the dragoon Elites rode on. It was difficult to see past the nose of a riding companion’s horse.  The tumultuous downpour, hammering hoofbeats, and pounding of each soldier’s heartbeat merged into one deafening, drumming tattoo.

    Emerging from the rainy mists, a corpulent, dull-scaled lizard broke through the underbrush to the left of the road.  Swiftly drawing saber, Montmercy pulled on the horse’s reins, squinting back through the obscuring rain, keen on the safety of the men.  Shorter than the horses but bulkier and longer in length, the way the beast’s split tongue lolled about might have been considered comical – were it not so very clear it was scenting for prey.

    ~A Free-magic!  Must be a sizeable faerie-ring nearby to admit a beast that large,~ Montmercy’s brows furrowed. As pressed as they were for time, this wayward creature from the Twilight Realm would only cause havoc for local citizens if the dragoons simply passed it by.

    But to dispatch a Free-magic beast, one had to deduce exactly what it was, which strange rules governed it, and how to counter the magical feats it was capable of.

    Preferably before it performed any.

    The laughable lizard lunged.

    Deftly Elites reigned horses out of its lumbering path. Montmercy’s self-annoyance surged.  Usually, the appearance of denizens from the Twilight Realm were easily anticipated.  But nothing was going as expected this week.

    With nose lifted high, mouth hanging dumbly open, the lizard smelt the air, a large eye rolling back...  

    Settling on Captain Warwick.

    Murmuring a string of foreign profanities, Warwick attempted to keep his powder dry while loading his rifle.  Though able with a blade, his confidence came as an unrivaled crackshot.  But even he would not be able to load and fire in time under these sopping conditions and constricting space.

    Before Montmercy could tap heels and charge in protectively, both Marcoux and Beron intervened, keeping the Contra’Vagus out of risky range.  Montmercy bristled, but keenly watched on.  Wordlessly the other Captains maneuvered into a scissor formation as the scaled beast turned around for another attempt.  Befuddled by the movement, it lost focus on Warwick, snapping irritably at the nearest charging horse legs.  Captain Claude Rieu’s sword struck defensively against the blunt nose, but no blood issued out.  The scaley hide remained unscathed.

    Montmercy squinted to see through the heavy rain, making a quick study.  Sunken eyes.  Sticky mucus in the mouth. Flaccid, hanging skin – all signs of dehydration, despite the abundance of water. Too long out of its proper environment, the giant lizard was starving. Pity slipped into Montmercy’s thoughts– and right back out again when the monstrous lizard reared to slash at Captain Samuel Forgeron’s passing flank.  The creature revealed an underbelly covered in precious gems.

    In an instant, all the Elites knew what manner of Free-magic they faced.