Your Fantasy
Dragons hover in mid-air, their wings flapping lightly, to stay afloat, with riders on their backs, waiting. A battle is taking place below, in the arena. Crowds of people sit, forming the audience. They cheer, and shout, and scream. Red faces, pale faces, sick faces, faces with tears running down their cheeks. Children jump up and down, trying to get a better look at the battle, copy the adults. Dogs, running amok, bark and howl as the battle runs on. The noise is deafening, but these elves and so called demons, do not have a choice, but to fight. Elves, demons, vampires, the ones who do not belong, ones who have come from afar and had gotten lost.
Blades clash, and stab, and hit. Blood splatters, limbs break, heads come off, and then finally death comes upon them. They have no real enemy amongst each other. The real enemies are the ones who set them up to fight, the humans. They have no special powers, but this was their territory. Therefore, they rule.
Every one of the