There was no room for error; time and the number of lives being lost within the span of a minute simply would not allow it . Hunters being flung left and right were testimonial to that despite doing all that was within their power and ability to stop the dragon from advancing any further. No matter what attempt, second or third, it only seemed to anger Gore more, fuelling the fire instead of extinguishing it. The Hunters’ spirits would not be dampened so easily as the sight of devastation only spurred them to try even harder as they wrestled to tame the Blood Dragon and take it in. Rosalie couldn’t bear to watch as people, just like her, were being tossed about like they were nothing more than ragdolls, so when Gore had tossed a man into the air with the intention to bat him through the sky with his tail, she had to quickly avert her eyes.

At first, Rosalie had thought they were trying to kill the beast with the relentlessness of their attacks and traps, but she later came to realise they were doing all they could to weaken it enough just so they could capture it. It looked like the damage dealt could put Gore on the verge of death if they continued this way, but who was she to say? She wasn’t one of the hunters and she clearly was no expert on how to catch a dragon - especially one so rare, so to her, it might have looked like it was overkill. She had taken an interest in dragons, but not so much as to brush up on her knowledge beforehand. She had been given a limited amount of time to work with, after all, as it was only recently - if not a few days ago - had she heard whispers of a dragon with scales as red as blood being spotted by pure luck, apparently.	

Sigmund and Eric, the two sons of the blacksmith she had been staying with were the first two she knew personally interested in the legend. They had talked Rosalie into trying to find this dragon if she really planned to leave what had been her home for almost five years now. The task sounded ridiculous and if it had not been for her knowing they were non-drinkers, she would have deemed alcoholic intoxication to be the reason behind their suggestion. Rosalie was wrong. Terribly wrong.	
			
While the sky held a battle of its own with Gore trying to avoid the projectiles, down below was another fight entirely as the ones who were lucky to be spared of the dragon’s wrath the first time around either tried to regain their composure and momentum or tried to flee. Those who held their ground were stubborn - determined, even, to reel in the prize. Those who fled...would be lucky to live another day. Rosalie’s mind at the moment was too slow to keep up with what was happening even as the impact of the dragon hitting the ground shook the ground. She just never thought she would get the chance to see a red dragon at her age or even in this lifetime. Glenn had seen the danger and though Rosalie knew he had meant well, she was tempted to pull him along with her so she could get him to answer her questions. 

She clawed out with the intention of grabbing the man by the sleeve of his shirt sticking out beneath a bit of armour, but missed entirely. “Wait! Where is Setton??” Her scream went unheeded as by the time the man had gone off to face the dragon with a blade that seemed to roar with a life of its own, she was already being dragged halfway across the field by the mercenary tasked with her safety. It was just in time, too, to avoid the ring of flames that now formed a barrier around the weapons. Very quickly, the flames began to spread, black pillars of smoke billowing into the air almost like smoke from a chimney. 

From where Rosalie had made it to, she was no longer able to see clearly into the battlegrounds she had once been standing on. She had not even gone that far, just far enough to avoid getting caught in the flames. She owed much to the mercenary who had taken the shortest and easiest route for her to follow, but she worried over Glenn even though she had not spoken with him long enough. He knew something about the man she was searching for and now, that knowledge was locked behind flaming walls. Just the thought of it was almost enough to make her run back in and see if Glenn was still alive. It was foolish of him to try running towards the dragon without the thought for his own safety. He was as good as dead. Anyone with the right mind could tell who the clear victor would be - who would emerge from the flames. Not to mention, there was the sheer difference in size. 

The hunter Rosalie was with ordered her to head back to town, the look in his eyes hinting that he planned to go back and see what it was he was able to do. She pulled on his arm, leaning back with all her weight to stop him. “What does Glenn know about Setton? Please. I have to know.”
“Setton? As Glenn had said; he’s our contractor.”
“No. Where is he?” She tried again, voice low over the crackling of flames. Rosalie was hardly playing around and she was so sure her usually calm composure had broken into desperation.
“What connection do you have with him? I don’t have time to hold your hand. Keep following this path south and you should be safe.” How cruel that he did not answer her. This one planned to jump through the flames and back into the fray? If he was staying, she would have to find a way around the flames. Slowly, Rosalie nodded, moving down a little ways down the path before hiding behind one of the trees. She would wait a safe distance away for now.

~~

Glenn groaned in pain, the beating he had taken rendering his body almost useless. Almost. His vision was starting to blur and as Gore pressed down against him, he could feel his usually sturdy armour start to cave in. In his fight to stay conscious, he tried looking around, looking anywhere but at the dragon looming over him. Those under his command, upon seeing the position he was in, were starting to actively seek a way in which they could either lure the scaled creature away from its ragdoll at the moment, or force it back with fire. Glenn’s life was beginning to slip away. It pained him to even breathe, but even in what may be his last moments, he refused to give up. Don’t think that he did not see Gore leaning in so closely and do not think that he could not feel the heat of the dragon’s breath being so close. 

Something shimmered lightly out of the corner of his eye though it was not too clear. One of the ballistae was still standing, it seemed, and the engineer, nothing more than a figure that shifted in and out of focus, was hiding behind it, working frantically now to aim it at Gore manually. [i]What...what are you waiting for?![/I] Mentally shouting was all he could do, but as with before, the ballista had a startup time that still needed to be improved in one way or another. Now, he could only hope against hope that he would live to see those improvements. 

Coughing, Glenn spat out a bit of his life, crimson just like the dragon before him. Even after all he had been through, the man still had a firm hold over his blade, the weapon still running though stalled quite a few times. It was a bit like him, actually. Hazel eyes barely managing to focus on Gore’s snout, he laughed, though it came out as more of a painful wheeze. “W-what’s that? Y-you...ugh... Gore.. Ironic, isn’t it...th-that we’ve...managed to spill your blood..as well.” He was buying time, trying to keep the dragon’s attention on him. There was no way that Gore would intentionally leave one ballista standing when he had taken care of the rest. It was a rather feeble attempt on Glenn’s part, but with Gore being so focused on him, it was a good opportunity. 

Glenn was unsure when the remaining ballista would be ready, but after a while, the familiar humming of the machine informed all. Weakly, he shifted an armoured hand and gestured for the engineer to fire, and she did. It would be an unforgiving blow should it hit at this range, but unfortunately, everything became dark before the man could see the outcome.