Panzer Dragon Orta

It seemed hopeless.
Orta had never seen a more desperate situation. Here she was, trapped in her jail cell, with two dragonmares stationed outside of her bars, preventing her escape. She was a natural thief and could easily pick the lock of her prison, but then the ‘mares would automatically attack. And what would she do then? Her frail assassin’s dagger was no use against their tough rusty armor.
One of the dragonmares peered at the albino girl, snarling with satisfaction as it gently nosed at the iron bars. With a gruff grunt, it turned back to duty, its heavy black-plated tail dragging on the dusty floor. Orta growled at the dragonmares, but it simply ignored her. What could she do? Chained, bruised, and armed with nothing but her delicate knife, what dragonmare would be afraid of such a girl? Surely there would be no future for her. The next day, her three-day trial would be over, and they would announce her sentence…hopefully, the dragonmares wouldn’t be hungry tomorrow.
Dinner. A small roll of sickening bread was pushed into her cell, wrapped in maggot-eaten cloth. The girl glared at the worker who had brought her the food, but he seemed not to notice her. Finally, she poked at the bread. Orta had never been more disgusted. She was of royal blood! Her family was one of the most feared, devastating, murderous assassins in the whole world! She had robbed countless banks, had stabbed thousands of innocent bystanders! And even through all that, she was always presented with a decent meal. Except now…she was caught. And it was all because of that traitor, Panzer. She would have her revenge on him. That is, if she ever got out of this place alive…
~ ~ ~
The next day passed quickly. In no time at all, Orta found herself on a low, wooden platform, with ravenous dragonmares at all sides, tied down with thick chains of steel that were securely bolted to the ground. However, it was not going to stay that way, that was for sure…
There had to be a way out! Orta raked her usually swift and cunning mind, but found nothing. No! It couldn’t end this way, with ivory daggers and a seemingly endless maw. The white-haired girl struggled against her chains, but already her willpower was fading away. Ahh, but it had to end this way, did it? She had no choice. She hung her head, defeated, breathing hard. Yes, let it all end…

~This story is not finished. My friend wrote it. Her name is Maureen. She is a fantastic writer. I will ask her to finish it, and then I will post the rest up.~