So there we were, faced with amazingly devastating odds... just us and this massive dragon breathing fire. Surely one more burst of hot air from it's gaping maw would incinerate us... but then a savior stepped onto the scene.

"Run!" the knight says, running onto the field of battle and thrusting his sheild in front of us to block the flames. The carriage driver and I exchanged concerned looks. Did we run off as he said, or try to help him escape a fiery death?