[ WP ] You are a `` hero '' in a fantasy world , but as you `` adventure '' , you are slowly realizing YOU are the antagonist .

The dragon had been trying to escape for well over a fortnight. I, the heroic knight, chased it through the desert and the bogs and the faraway fens until it crashed into a spire of an ancient, abandoned city. I followed its blood trail for three more days, stumbling into a small settlement of sorts with a worn and weary horse. 
 
 
 “ Water, ” I gurgled at the nearest villager. She refused to meet my eye, fear written all over her old face. I moved on. 
 
 
 “ Water, ” I said again to a farmboy, young and spry. He glanced at me quickly and looked away again, towards the cloud covered mountains, before raising his arm up and pointing to the west. 
 
 
 “ Creek, ” he muttered so low I could barely hear him. 
 
 
 I shambled over, my horse dragging her feet, head low, the poor beast. A bubbling, babbling stream coursed through the shanty houses and tents, its water muddied and brown. I leapt down and drank and drank, spitting out rocks and grit. 
 
 
 My horse knelt, and then lay, slurping up water next to me. She did not get up again. I patted her on the forelock and stood slowly, my rusted armor grinding against itself creating a piercing noise unkind to the ears. 
 
 
 “ You ’ ve done well, old girl, ” I said gently taking off her bridle and saddle, placing them both beside her steaming body. “ Stay here, rest a while, I ’ ll soon be back. ” 
 
 
 I looked over his shoulder. Four or five of the villagers were watching me, but looked quickly away and went about their business when they saw my eyes. I shrugged it off. I was an outsider here. People don ’ t take too kindly to outside folks, especially knights questing for glory and fame. It had been like this in several of the other towns and villages. But I was here to rescue them from that fire breathing nightmare, and they would soon be singing songs of bravery and praise about me. 
 
 
 I had pushed forth through the Skylorn Campaign for the Good King, I hadn ’ t given up at the Battle of the Blue Waters, I was the most trusted of the Order of the Moon, and I would not let the King down now, just because a few simple folks out in the faraway reaches of an uncivilized land looked at me strangely. 
 
 
 I walked over to what must have been the local tavern and went inside. A single table stood out against the wall and a lone man stood wiping a soiled metal tankard in the corner eyeing me warily. 
 
 
 “ Ale, if you please, and some food if you ’ ve got it. ” 
 
 
 The man didn ’ t move. 
 
 
 I said it again, louder this time, figuring the man was hard of hearing. 
 
 
 Finally the bartender spoke, his voice gruff and low, almost menacing. “ We don ’ t serve your kind. ” 
 
 
 “ Pardon? ” 
 
 
 “ Knights like you. ” 
 
 
 “ Why ever not? ” I was genuinely curious, maybe this would explain why I had the same troubles everywhere I went. 
 
 
 “ That dragon— ” 
 
 
 I cut the man off smiling, “ Good sir, it ’ s okay to be afraid. But fear not, I ’ m here to rid you of that foul, evil beast for good. It won ’ t terrorize you or you village anymore. ” 
 
 
 “ That ’ s just it, ” the man said slowly, “ that dragon ain ’ t evil. You don ’ t even know the lore of this land do you? You come here, in your shiny armor, with your nimble horse, and your court ordered sword, and try to change our ways. You ’ re the evil one. ” 
 
 
 “ Excuse me? ” I was growing concerned now. The bartender had approached me, a wild look in his ice blue eyes. 
 
 
 “ Yes, you come here, to this land, from across the border, questing or whatever it is you call it. Killing our kind, killing our dragons, killing our gods— ” 
 
 
 “ Gods? There is only one true god… ” 
 
 
 “ Those dragons, you dolt, haven ’ t you ever read a book? Has no one ever spoken to you the tales of our forefathers? They created this land, they protect us from invasion, from your kind. You go anywhere you please, taking our land, our resources, claiming it as your own. We were here first, and they were here even before that. ” 
 
 
 I stood, mouth open, flopping up and down like a fish out of water. 
 
 
 “ Get out! ” The man screamed, spittle flying in all directions, catching the lamp light. 
 
 
 I didn ’ t need a second telling. I exited the tavern and there, right in the middle of the settlement, was the dragon I had been chasing for so long. His scales were green and black and shiny in spots. Two long horns rose from either side of his head, framing the darkening sky between them. Beneath him lay my horse, her belly ripped open, her guts pooled out onto the dirt. The old girl was still moving slightly and she turned her one eye towards me and whinnied once before it glazed over. 
 
 
 I looked back at the feasting dragon. It stopped long enough to look at me with ancient golden eyes. 
 
 
 “ Kill him, ” it said with a voice so deep I thought the very earth beneath me was speaking. 
 
 
 The first rock hit the polished shoulder piece of my armor, then another, and another, until I was buried under the crushing weight of dozens of stones. I knew enough to remain still, huddled inside my sturdy armor, pretending to be dead. I would wait, and wait, and have my revenge soon enough. My King, my people, would rain fire and blood down upon this backwards blasphemous place until they, and their dragongods, were gutted entirely from this land. 

