A group of white n were seated on wooden chairs in a plaza. The sun shone directly overhead. In front of them, there was a crowd of natives. Ahead of the crowd, there was a temple atop a pyramid. It wasnt as grand as the one Vur had seen, but it was still the most prominent building in the city. On top of the altar, there was a bound crocodile. It was lying on its back, restrained to the altar. Twine was wrapped around its mouth, preventing it from opening. Three n held down its tail, two n held back its head, and four n were holding onto one leg each. The head priest was kneeling top of the altar, straddling the crocodiles abdon. In his hands, there was a flint knife raised above the crocodiles chest.
From the bottom of the altar, the group of white n watched as the knife plunged downwards. They grimaced as the natives hooted and cheered. They were stabbing themselves, letting blood flow down their bodies and onto the ground. The sll of blood perated the air followed by the stench of rot as the fresh blood wetted the dried blood that was already on the ground. After a few seconds, the high priest stood up, a still-beating heart in his hand, and raised it above his head. He said a few words, and with a plopping sound, the organ was deposited into a giant stone bowl. The crocodiles body was lifted by the nine n and tossed down the stairs. It tumbled a few tis before landing on a terrace where another group of n were waiting for it.
Barbaric, one of the white n said.
At least it wasnt a human this ti, another one said and shuddered.
It doesnt look like its ending anyti soon, the white man in full plate armor said. He pointed. A group of natives were carrying a limp jaguar up the steps of the pyramid from a set of stairs different than the one the crocodile was thrown from. Behind that group of n, there were even more natives waiting around with bound animals.
The great god has descended, the translator said, staring at the group of white n from the corner of his eyes. He was sitting with his chest and legs facing away from the group. There were a few wounds on his chest that blood flowed freely from, and a bloody knife was held in his hands. The stronger the animal, the more honorable the sacrifice. If the god is not happy, he may kill us all.
The man in the suit of armor snorted. The scouts havent returned yet. We dont know if your god has descended or not.
The translators nose wrinkled, and he looked away while standing up. The second sacrifice was about to begin. He chanted along with the rest of the natives and self-mutilated himself, causing even more blood to flow from his body. The group of white n turned their heads away, wanting to completely leave the ritual site. Soon, another heart was raised into the air, and the jaguars body was thrown down the steps, spilling blood all along the way. A second jaguar was carried up by a group of natives and placed above the altar.
One of the white n made a face. How long does this last?
The translator turned around and sneered. Until the sun sets.
Crazy!
Yes, its crazy, the translator said. Without giving a chance for the white n to respond, he sighed. If we had more great animals, the sacrifices can last until the next morning when the sun rises again. But were not like the people of the capital; our resources are too little.
The man wearing the full suit of armor shook his head. Lets go back. Well gain nothing from staying here for so long. The sll is making sick.
Right at that mont, gasps filled the air, and the chanting paused. After a mont, it resud, but at an even louder volu. Rather than chanting, it sounded like the natives were screaming with all their might. The group of white n glanced at each other and looked around. The translator pointed up at the sky with a dazed expression before he half-scread, half-chanted as well. What looked like a massive, blue crocodile with wings was flying through the air, occasionally dipping into and out of the clouds in the sky. It circled the skies, getting lower with every rotation.
Captain, one of the white n said with a pale face. Is that a dragon?
The man in the full suit of armor was baffled. Dragons only existed in fairytales and myths! But if that were true, then what the heck was that creature flying above them!? Run back to the base! the man said and turned around. He ran without even checking to see if his companions were following him. They had left their weapons behind in the base as part of an agreent to attend the sacrificial ritual. To fight sothing as large as a dragon was impossible without their guns! Its a creature of legends, a dragon! Think of Sigurd! If we kill it and bathe in its blood, well beco invincible!
C-Captain, were running to the base to get our horses to run away, right? What do you an kill it? one of the white n asked. Despite the fact he was wearing less armor than his captain, he was struggling to keep up. And what do you an invincible?
You uneducated buffoon! the captain shouted. Hasnt your mother ever told you the story of Sigurd? Its the most famous story involving a dragon! Sigurd slew a dragon and bathed in its blood. Then his skin beca as hard as the dragons horn, making him undefeatable in battle!
But Captain, thats just a story!
Shut up! Even if its a story, it mustve spread so far because of so ounce of truth! Think about it, Sigurd only had a sword and managed to kill the dragon. However, we have swords and guns and five hundred n! Were humans abnormal freaks back then? No! They were people just like us! If Sigurd could do it, why cant we?
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