Arran cursed loudly as his arrow narrowly missed the dragon's eye and glanced harmlessly off its scales. Immediately, he shot another one, and this time, the attack struck true.
Rather than being relieved, he merely sighed in exhaustion.
Over a week had passed since the cliff collapsed on top of the beast, and after the initial attack, they had launched a constant stream of spells and arrows at it, determined to never give it more than a few minutes of respite.
They had some success in the first few days, with the dragon's wounds growing larger under their constant attacks. Yet even as they grew exhausted from the constant effort, the results of their labor grew smaller with each day.
By now, they struggled just to keep their foe from healing even as they attacked it.
The dragon, for its part, had all but stopped responding to the attacks. It merely lay on the ground, resting even while they desperately tried to harm it.
