From the ramparts of Halear, the day seems perfect. There is one cloud at a time in the sky, and the sun shines down without burning. The air isn't humid or moist, perfectly crisp, but not cold. The town behind you goes along its daily business with joy and prosperity, calls from the market pleasantly reminding you of your childhood years when you nearly were lost from your mother in the rushing masses of the marketplace.
The shadow of the cloud floats over the town and the neighbouring fields are bathed in a soft glow of darkness. Everything is serene, and you wouldn't expect anything to happen. It is only the screams of the villagers that alerts you.
They point to the sky where the cloud sits, alone. But as you look up at it, shielding your eyes against the brilliance of the sun, you can make out a certain figure. It takes form, shaping into an enormous bird-like creature. The wings spread out, but seemingly not to slow it down, simply because its body turns in that direction. It falls, gaining speed as it does so, spinning and whirling out of control. It falls for a place slightly in front of the ramparts, but it's impossible to tell where it will end. As it approaches you make out further details of its body. It's huge! A long tail, feet even, and a head that resembles a lizards, except with horns protruding from its forehead. Its colour is interesting also: a dark, sheen-like black, like obsidian, or the mythical oricalch. It falls, and falls, growing larger all the while. Until it finally hits the ground with an enormous tremor, shaking the foundations of the town walls and buildings. The villagers scream, rushing towards the gates, and you see the soldiers abandoning their post at the door to go outside to see it. As you do so too, you see it for what it truly is.
Something out of your nightmares, something out of your church's stain-glass windows, terrorising you into believing in the God. A dragon.