Agrigon

((Solo. This quest takes place just before my thread with Banda Utako. This quest is from the Dheathain bounty board.))

Amaril slowly made his way off of Corone’s vessel, still uncertain as to the validity of the map showing Dheathain near Salvar. The trip to the country had taken much longer than the atlas suggested, and he now felt another wave of uncertainty and suspicion toward the foreign race called the Fae, especially the one called Demetri. With plans to travel to Salvar, where he would make a new life for himself, he had been stopped by a servant of the unknown Demetri. He was promised a prosperous job for doing a noble deed in a land neighboring his previous destination. With the idea that he wouldn't be traveling very far from Salvar, he told the servant that he would meet with Demetri and see what the fae had to say. Now he was in a port city called Talmhaidh, forcing him to continue the journey to Donnalaich on foot. Of course, he would need to obtain some directions in order to find the place.

Looking around at the numerous Fae, he mumbled to himself, “I’d really prefer not to deal with any more of those creatures than I have too.”

A few more steps into the city, away from the port, he realized that not all of the winged people were Fae. In fact, some looked dangerously like himself, with clawed hands, similar wings, and scales. They were unmistakably dragon-like in their mannerisms, and when the outsider touched one’s shoulder to ask the whereabouts of his destination, he was met with an aggressive snarl, very close to what he himself was capable of when under the control of his beastly half. The creature quickly recognized what he assumed to be one of his own race and gave the half-dragon a curt, upward nod.

“What can I do for you?” A forked tongue rolled over sharp canines, a trait absent in the slightly smaller counterpart.

“I’m sorry for just reaching out to get your attention. I’m new to this country and I am looking for a city called Donnalaich. Would you be so kind as to tell me how to get there?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly why you’d want to go to the Fae capital, stranger. That’s something very suspicious for our kind. It’s in that direction.” the creature pointed toward a seemingly endless land of grasslands and plains. “You would be more comfortable with Suthainn, our capital in the region Fiorair. It may not be as gallant as those fairies have rebuilt their city to be, but we are far more capable of defending our home. My name is Darith, by the way.” Darith reached forward with an outstretched hand, waiting for Amaril to return the gesture.

“My name is Amaril Torrun.” He accepted the handshake politely. “While your offer sounds tempting, I have business to attend to in Donnalaich that I feel compelled to deal with. Perhaps in the near future our lives will meet again, and you could show me Suthainn.” With a firm, final shake, Darith turned and continued on his path, leaving Amaril to start on his.

It only took a few more seconds for him to be drawn into another conversation however. Suddenly a tall, thin man appeared before him, with a grim, yet hopeful expression on his face. Amaril knew this expression well, and could easily foretell what this human would ask him. “I’m sorry, sir, but I have business to attend to, and I don’t exactly have time for a second mercenary job. Perhaps another day.”

With a side step and a long stride, he hoped that the man would leave him alone. Sadly, this was not the case, and the man darted in front of him yet again. “Please. I’ve asked so many people for help, and no one is willing. These blasted Fae aren’t willing to get into any 'unnecessary' fights, and the draconians seem to think that I’m a waste of time.”

And I’m to assume that you’re not? “Very well. I’ll listen to what you have to say, but be brief and to the point. I’m not in the mood to waste time.”

The man’s face nearly cracked with relief. “Thank you, thank you, mister…”

“Amaril Torrun.”

“Amaril. You look draconian too, by the way, but with that tail of yours, I thought you were something different. I guess I was right."

"Please get to the point," Amaril breathed through closed teeth.

"Ok, well I was traveling to Luthmor, with some merchandise to sell to a few Fae in Donnalaich, when a monster attacked my caravan. It must have laid a trap for me, because suddenly I fell through the ground and into some sort of tunnel, along with my wagon and horses. Climbing to the top of my wagon, I had just enough time to see a pair of glowing eyes staring in my direction before my two horses were butchered by the creature. Leaving everything behind, I fled back here, and I’ve been trying to hire help ever since. No one believes that this creature is real, but then again, it only attacks humans, so the Fae and Draconians wouldn’t be bothered by it, now would they?”

Amaril merely shook his head. “Sir, while your tale is saddening, I hardly believe that there are fiends out there that only target humans. It just doesn’t make sense for something like that to exist. I am traveling to the Fae capital though, so I’ll keep an eye out for this creature, whatever it is. Sound good?” Without waiting for a reply, he stepped away from the crazed merchant once again.

“I’ll give you three hundred gold pieces.” Amaril slowed, but then shook his head again and continued on his way. “And I’ll give you my two prevalida daggers. A lot of good they did me, running away like I did.” Amaril froze. The offer of prevalida was hard to reject, even with such an unrealistic objective. Though he wasn’t the greatest swordsman on Althanas, he still adored his prevalida long sword. Blue metal was a treasure he coveted ever since discovering its existence, and two new blades made of it would make nice additions to his collection. Not to mention that he was already a practiced knife thrower with his current steel daggers.

“Alright sir, I accept your offer. I’ll find this creature and kill it, so you can travel in safety.”

“Thank you Amaril, thank you! Just don’t forget to bring me proof. I’m not going to give a small fortune away for nothing.”

“Damn it! I forgot to ask for his name.” Amaril turned around, but the merchant was gone. The ill-fated man had given him a general idea of where the ruined caravan was located before walking toward a crowded street. The half-dragon started to walk down that same street in order to learn his employer’s name, but the streets were just too crowded to accomplish anything. “I might as well find that creature before I go back to him anyways. Otherwise he might think I’m backing out of the deal and try to make the offer with someone else. I can’t be the only one in this entire city that would be willing to do the job, unless he really is crazy.”

Anxiety suddenly took a hold of him. What if the so called merchant was a town lunatic or something, spreading wild tales about fantastical beasts? It was impossible that any creature would be able to survive off of humans alone, when the country seemed to be inhabited by so few. Talmhaidh seemed to only have a handful of humans in a large populous of draconians and fae. Both of these other races seemed to have a great deal of tension between them, and judging from the merchant, looked down on the humans. One fae male ran from one building to another on the other side of the street. On his way, he accidentally brushed past a non-winged draconian who Amaril recognized as one of the crew members on his recent voyage. The draconian appeared to almost chase after the unsuspecting fae, but spat in the offender’s direction instead. No wonder they have their own cities. Trade must be the sole purpose of this place.

His fascination with how Dheathain's population was growing boat load by boat load, he realized that he had almost forgotten about the hunt. I guess I should ask around and find out if that man is legitimate, or indeed senseless. Looking around, he decided to stick with questioning the few humans and the Draconians, reasoning with himself that the Fae would most likely not know about violent things. This was hardly the truth. The messenger that had brought him to Dheathain in the first place, with a false map and very little information what would be asked of him, was Fae, and that was enough to hinder a good first impression of the race. Furthermore, he was used to humans and the idea of draconians having so many similar traits to him entertained his interest greatly.

I just need to make sure I don’t turn as biased as these draconians seem to be.

Therefore, the half-breed began questioning those in Talmhaidh that seemed more likely to answer a foreigner’s questions. From what he gathered from the humans he interviewed, the dangerous creature really did exist, causing Amaril a great degree of relief. It seemed that the job would result in him growing more prosperous after all. However, he also heard several tales by these same people about how the monster had already killed or maimed several of their friends trying to cross the plains. The more he listened, the more terrifying the tales grew, until he felt assured that this monstrous beast would easily slay him in battle.

One particular man was adamant that there was only one way to travel through Dheathain. “Us humans can’t go into those plains out there. We’ve gotta travel along the coastline until we hit Luthmor. Anyone that tries to cut through dies.”

The men and women also told him about all the draconians and fae that would leave the city for the plains and return unharmed. They appeared to be just as dumbfounded as Amaril about the creature only hunting humans. The natives of Dheathain seemed to rarely be attacked in the grasslands, and there were only a handful of known deaths amongst them. The merchant seemed to be telling the truth about this fiend, but now Amaril wasn’t quite sure if he was up to such a challenge. Maybe I should just go around the grasslands like these people. If it hunts travelers, I doubt I’ll be able to go straight through the plains unscathed, especially when I know so little about the region. It’s not like I signed a contract to finish the job anyways.

Amaril hated turning his back on people he decided to help, but this creature sounded nothing like he had encountered in all his life.

I guess I’ll have to find prevalida daggers elsewhere. Maybe Demetri will pay me enough to buy some, if I accept his proposal. With an idea of how to get to Donnalaich, Amaril began walking back toward the port, so that he could make the journey around the deadly plains.

Finding himself on the coastline, he watched the sweat-drenched sailors on the docks, working under the merciless sun. Amongst them was Darith, working alongside a wingless draconian. The half-dragon decided to ask about the creature one more time. The other draconians he had asked about the beast laughed hysterically at Amaril’s ignorance, but Darith might be more helpful since they had already become acquainted. He made a beeline toward the draconian, flying up to the elevated dock. A man nearby jumped at the sudden sight of him landing on the wooden planks before returning to work.

“Hello Darith, could I bother you with one more question?” Amaril spoke nonchalantly, expecting a somewhat friendly greeting in return.

The wingless draconian snorted and walked away, leaving the two to converse. Darith remained silent however. He had obviously recognized Amaril, but was now scrutinizing the foreigner intently. Finally, he spoke. “You have a tail.”

That was possibly the weirdest response Amaril had ever heard. “Yes… I have a tail. Why?”

“We don’t have tails.”

“Who’s we? Draconians?”

“You aren’t draconian. You have wings and claws like us, but you are not one of us.”

“But… that draconian over there doesn’t have wings.” Amaril pointed at the one that had left Darith’s side. “And he’s obviously draconian. So can’t I be a draconian with a tail, just like he is one without wings?”

Darith shook his head. “Well, it isn’t that big of a deal I guess. I’ve never met one of our race that had a tail, but I suppose it could be possible. Maybe when you go to Suthainn we can find out for sure what you are. But, as you said before, you have business to attend to, and I’m going to assume that is the reason why you have returned with another question. So what is it that you wanted to ask me?”

Darith was being quite persistent in advising Amaril to go to the draconian capital, but he wasn’t quite sure if it would be the best place for him. The country was too stifling and humid to be comfortable, which was why he had planned to travel to Salvar after meeting Demetri. He decided to let the argument go for now and continue with the questioning. “I wanted to know if you’ve heard of a monster that preys on humans out there.” He pointed toward the plains.

Darith cocked his head slightly and revealed a small smirk. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?” He chuckled a bit as Amaril shook his head. “Those foolish humans came to our land because of their greed, but they are all too cowardly to survive in this land. There is no such thing as monster that hunts humans, as they believe. Some younger draconians and fae have been telling the humans stories about this fiend ever since they arrived in Dheathain. The fact that they seem to often die out there has only helped this tale grow. The only creatures that need to be looked out for are the Cailpis, but they are easy to spot since they live at the top of the few hills scattered across the plains. All one has to do in order to avoid them is to look out for rocky ground, since that usually marks the beginning of their territory.”

Amaril breathed out in relief. I bet the merchant ran into one of those animals, not some make-believe creature.

“Besides that, there isn’t really anything out there that you need to watch out for. But if you do run into a Cailpis, it will attack you without a moment’s hesitation, so you’d better travel well-armed for your first couple trips, until you get used to avoiding them. Don’t fly either, because it will make you easier to spot, and you’ll look much smaller to them from far away. They might get hungry. Why did you want to know about the human-eater anyways?”

“Well, right after we talked the first time, a man asked me kill the creature that assaulted his caravan. He offered me a reward that I found suitable enough and I decided that I might as well hunt it down quickly before going to Donnalaich. I asked around to make sure he was just a crazed man, and that’s how I heard about the legendary monster that kills any human. I guess I should have known better than to believe such an unrealistic story. Thank you for the clarification.” Amaril reached out to shake Darith’s hand for the second time in one day, and the draconian received it immediately.

“It’s no problem. Try to ask the natives your questions from now on though. I truly wish you would come to Suthainn, but you have your own life to live and I understand that. Don’t be too quick to turn down the offer though. Think about it as you go to Donnalaich. I’ll probably be here for another two weeks before returning home.”

“Ok, I will, and thank you again, Darith.” The two parted ways once more, and Amaril had a new found determination to earn the prevalida daggers.

He stood just outside the skirt of the lively port, gazing at the miles of grasslands ahead of him. The merchant had given him very rushed details about the whereabouts of the ruined caravan, which seemed to be the most obvious place to start a search. When he looked in the direction of where the wagon would be, he saw nothing. Sighing to himself, he realized that it would take a good part of his day to find it. If only I could fly there. Then it would be so much easier. The half-dragon felt lucky to have spoken to Darith again, gaining a slight advantage over the beastly hunters of the plains. Yet, knowledge of how to avoid the creatures would also slow his movements, as he now wanted to be as cautious as possible in order to avoid any unnecessary hindrances.

The wind breathed life to everything around Amaril. It danced across the endless fields of grass, and the soft blades licked upon his light, leather boots. Constant sets of heavy breezes coming from the sea caused Amaril’s wings to rattle continuously, no matter how tightly he kept them closed and tucked in. He admired the powerful force, emanating nothing but peacefulness. The entire landscape reminded him of Mother Nature’s deep breath before a storm.

The venture into the wilderness went on well into the late afternoon. The salty sea air slowly disappeared as the distance between the large body of water and himself grew larger. At a backward glance, he could still see the ocean, though it merely looked like landscape now, rather than the animated creature it had been when up close. Ahead, sinister gray clouds rolled forward, warning everything of its imminent presence. At some point, a small family of field mice dashed in front of him, clearly unafraid of the morose mercenary. He followed Darith’s instructions, remaining flightless and avoiding the few hills he came across. The entire environment spoke of nature in its most accepted, pleasant form, and he could hardly believe that anything contrary to that lived nearby.

Suddenly, Amaril felt a hard bump at his feet. Leaping into the air, he quickly whipped anxious his tail around, jabbing it downwards. Looking to see if he struck the ambusher, he saw an enormous lizard, well over a foot long. The critter was momentarily dazed by the unexpected attack, but quickly regained itself and darted away. He watched the plump reptile crash through the grass, a true monster wreaking havoc on its much smaller world. Within seconds, a short squeak was cut short by a less than welcome gurgle. Nosing himself into the wildlife’s business, the half-dragon found the spiked lizard a few feet away, gnawing on a lifeless mouse. At the sight of the larger being for the second time, the small predator scuttled back to its underground den.

Darith didn’t mention one of those things. The image of the lizard burned into his mind. The long, sharpened claws, teeth, and spikes reminded him of a much larger creature, a creature he figured to fit in one of his parental slots. The ravenous beast almost looked like a baby, dangerous yes, but only for the smallest living beings. Maybe he figured I could take care of a little lizard that bites. Shrugging off the distinct sound of miniature mouse bones cracking in the shallow hole, his trek continued without any other distractions.

Finally, after nearly half a day’s walk and in the midst of dusk, he could make out the faint outline of the shattered wagon, sunken partly into the ground. Amaril unsheathed his sword, carrying it lackadaisically in his right hand. The weapon felt natural to him, but he knew using it was another matter. The blade rarely lasted an entire battle before being replaced by his natural and better controlled weaponry, yet he was determined to learn how to fight like the great swordsmen that roamed Althanas. At the moment though, he thought little about his future prowess with the sword. Instead he focused on his surroundings, determined not to be ambushed by the predator he was hunting.

It must be near here.

Fifteen minutes later, he stood next to the busted up wagon and the hole, which he guessed to be about ten feet deep. The area looked nothing like a trap, as he had thought plausible. Indeed, there was no obstruction to the natural environment whatsoever, except of course the gaping hole and carriage. It looked as if the merchant had merely run his precious cart into a weak foundation of dirt, causing it to collapse. I’ve come this far. Its too late to turn back now. Scanning the area around him for any unsuspected lurkers, human or beast, he let himself fall lightly to the ground, bending one knee to his chest and using his unequipped arm to brace himself.

The wagon appeared to be much larger from the new angle, besides the fact that it was broken in half. Odd pieces of merchandise littered the ground, and he started to rummage through them with shallow interest. The items were hardly valuable to the mercenary, cheap and showy utensils made of copper, a few stacks of books with brightly colored covers. Brass candle frames looked to be the most lucrative objects the merchant had been traveling with. It was obvious that the half-dragon’s employer was not the richest of his trade, probably working in the Dheathain market because it was a new opportunity to make something of himself. He’d better be capable of paying me what he said he would. I doubt all of this combined is worth what he offered me, including the daggers. I guess he really wants a safe road to travel.

Near the end of the quick search, he came across bits of bloodied meat. Brown, short fur was still attached, and he quickly backed away. The horses… This creature really is deadly. He grasped the hilt of his long sword with both hands, as he had yet to master it with one.

There was a tunnel on one side of the hole. Upon first glance, he couldn’t gauge the depth of the burrow, but it was apparent that it was the right place to search next. Leaving behind the odd collection of goods, he stepped over the rotting carcasses and stopped at the entrance of the intimidating dirt path. He carefully began to creep through the enclosed earth, noticing that it was gradually leading him upward. At one point he rested a clawed hand on one of the walls, taking a short break to catch his breath in the oxygen deprived den. As soon as he touched the wall, small bits of the ceiling floated downward. He quickly moved his hand away, scared that the soil above him might collapse at any moment. Imagining the thought of being buried alive, he willed the dirt to stay in place. As if the earth could understand him, every particle stayed in place.

That was just a coincidence. He didn’t have a power over earthy materials, though his elemental scale did seem to grant him control over elements. Putting his idea to the test, he scraped a small bit of dirt off of the wall with an outstretched claw. Focusing on the gritty material, he tried to make it rise into the air. All it did was roll off of his claw, falling to the ground. Whatever, I don’t have time for this anyways. Amaril always took pleasure in developing his abilities, but standing underneath a mountain of dirt was not the best place to try his possible skill.

He continued marching through the tunnel. Within a minute or two, he noticed a smaller hole, but large enough for him to fit through. A starlit sky met him as he looked up at the odd opening. Could this be the entrance to the tunnel? He quickly started to organize his thoughts, trying to figure the situation out. If this is the entrance, then maybe that giant hole back there was the… creature’s home. No wonder the merchant had lost everything to a violent beast. Any natural animal would attack a fool that crashed into its home, completely obliterating all shelter.

Suddenly, a low growl came from above. The beast was home.

Amaril steadied the long, blue sword in front of him, aiming the point of the blade directly at the center of the burrow’s entrance. If the deadly creature came down, it would certainly find an untimely death. He tried to ignore a nagging sense of guilt that was beginning to nudge at his conscience. The animal was more than likely frightened by yet another intruder inside its home. It was probably intent only on ridding the lair of the unwanted invader. Yes, guilt was an understandable feeling for the situation, though he couldn’t afford it if he wanted to get out alive. Slowly, the half-dragon started backing away, hoping to reach the open den behind, where he would have much more maneuverability.

As soon as there was a gap between the burrow entrance and himself, the animal revealed itself, climbing inside very slowly. The familiar face of a flat, spiked headed lizard emerged, though gigantic compared to Amaril’s first encounter with the reptilian species. The same plump body came next along with four appendages revealing numerous long claws. It bared menacing fangs that drooled a crimson syrupy substance. It began to cough spasmodically and a bloodied carcass with a faint resemblance to a rabbit fell from mouth to ground. Regaining its composure, it looked back at the much larger prey that would make hunting obsolete.

Is this thing a mutated version of what I saw earlier today? If this creature was a normal size, Darith was certainly not as informative as he had thought. He had a feeling that the draconian knew the land pretty well however, and it would make sense that an oddity would become the source of the legendary man-eater.

Amaril’s guilt was replaced by fear. He may not have wanted to kill an innocent being, but this reptile certainly had no qualms over the matter. He had faced worse during his past, even killing the young dragon that had possessed the elemental scale now embedded in his chest, but he feared that his ability to fight had grown a bit rusty. His last example of combat in the Citadel had left him with dismembered limbs against a young, inexperienced man with a sword. The memory almost made the scars burn from embarrassment. Now, he was hoping for a possible escape.

Preparing for the worst, he started forming an ice dart within and it slowly slid up his throat once completed. The frozen weapon cooled his parched throat and mouth, but did not melt to quench any thirst. He left it there, ready to send it into his enemy’s face if it attacked. Finally, he found himself back to the ruined wagon, trying to focus on both the creature and not tripping over any loose items. The animal growled continuously, and for a moment the two stared directly into each other’s eyes. The half-dragon hoped that by refusing to lower his gaze, he would bring the beast into submission. The reptile showed no signs of losing the battle of wills however, and Amaril’s eyes began to water and blur. Sensing the weakness, the creature opened its toothy maw, growling even louder, and crept forward. The contest was over, though neither had lost eye contact.

The obvious prospect of a fight brought him back into focus, and he realized that he was backed up against the wagon. There was nowhere else to go. He spread his wings slowly, halting the reptiles approach for a moment. The effect was lost on it in a matter of seconds and it continued to approach. The mercenary raised his sword to a more appropriate position if the creature were to jump at him. Then, as if it knew the danger’s of a blade, the animal charged to the left of Amaril, reaching a front claw to rip at the trespasser’s side.

He fell to the side, only catching a slight scratch on the side of his stomach. His head wasn’t so lucky though, and banged onto a wooden plank belonging to the wagon, sword flying out of his hands and landing a few feet away. The creature did not stop its attack and threw itself at the unprepared half-dragon. Landing square on his chest, the heavy beast was difficult to fend off. The putrid breath of past ingested corpses eroded all other senses. Gagging, Amaril somehow rolled the reptile to the side and slid out from under it. Claws raked at the air as the animal found its way back to its feet. In its frenzy to get right side up, it had lost sight of the intruder, and only then did it realize a chilly ice dart in the left shoulder.

Amaril stood at the top of the wagon, several feet above the head of the deadly beast, having taken the battle free moment to fly to the perch. From safety, he watched the animal dart around the wagon, sniffing the ground and the air. I can’t suppress this guilt of killing an innocent animal that just wants to protect its home. The lizard-like creature found the right scent and looked up, growling at the escapee. Quickly deciding that he would abandon the quest, the mercenary was about to launch himself into the air, when the beast charged the wagon. The few feeble boards holding it up collapsed. Wings not yet stretched out, his body followed the broken wood, splintering his legs severely.

Roaring in pain, he found himself in another wrestling match with the animal, but this time was able to swing his own body on top. The beast wriggled and fought to get free, slashing at the arms trying to pin down its own. Its powerful jaws snapped at Amaril’s evasive head. Avoiding the deadly maw made the struggle particularly difficult since it kept him from putting full force into the fight, and he slowly felt his body slipping off of the creature’s scales. Knowing that he didn’t have much time to come up with something, he raised his tail and tried to jab it into the animal’s side. Instead, the beast wailed as the biological weapon pierced its own tail, which had been swinging wildly. The half-dragon felt the tip of his tail reach air on the other side of his enemy’s and discovered that the two appendages were now locked.

Realizing that he was stuck with the creature until one of them died, he took the chance of swiping a pile of dirt off of the ground and threw it into the beast’s eyes, just as he felt a large open hand smack into his face. He rolled backward from the powerful blow, pulling the two tails as far as they would go and tearing the reptile’s a little in the process. Staggering to his feet, Amaril watched as the animal shook its head, wailing out of fear of being temporarily blinded. It was the advantage he needed to survive, and his eyes darted for the whereabouts of his sword. He saw it, several yards away, not close enough to reach with his tail entangled the way it was. Damn

He drew both of his steel daggers, holding one in either hand as he approached the beast. As soon as he got close enough, it rounded upon him, hissing at the air a few inches away. It could still sense the interloper, though it couldn’t quite see. Amaril felt a wave of adrenaline, knowing that the death was imminent. Leaping forward, he drove one dagger into the side of the creature’s throat, the other going inside the gaping mouth that was attempting to swallow his arm whole. The jaws didn’t clamp shut like he had expected, and he realized why when he saw the blade of his dagger protruding through the top of the animal’s head. The body collapsed, falling on top of the front of the half-dragon and knocking him down.

Amaril kneeled before the dead body of the mutated lizard. He had cleaned the numerous wounds that lead up to the creature’s demise, using the merchant’s piles of cloth the man had abandoned during his escape. He shed no tears over the death, but remained solemn, regretful for the violent encounter. It only wanted a safe place to live. He placed the bloodied linens over the wounds still pouring the crimson liquid, in an attempt to stop the flow. We were not so different. How much of an animal really is inside me?

The half-dragon couldn’t help but think of all the things inhuman about himself. He was naturally good natured, but for some reason he could lose all sense of control in heated moments. It was as if the beast within would awake and kill in a frenzy whenever allowed, and he was at constant battle to keep it at bay. He would help or defend the noblest of people, only to feel a sudden and immense rage toward them with no apparent reason. Then there were his feelings of being drawn to prevalida, though he could think of no real use for that particular metal. He knew of dragons collecting hordes of treasure without ever doing anything with it, and knew that this trait had some hold over his own nature.

He prepared to leave with the corpse, unable to quell the almost dragon-like greed for more prevalida metal. He told himself that he wanted the creature’s death to have some reason behind it, even a petty one, though it was a weak barrier that he could easily see through. So, taking care to keep any more blood flow from falling onto his own body, he half hoisted the creature in his arms and half dragged it behind him. It was too large to carry all the way back to the port, but he refused to desecrate the body by cutting off the head as if it were a hunter’s trophy.

The travel back to Talmhaidh lasted well into the next morning and possibly the early afternoon. Ever suspicious of anything else that might attack, he had refused to sleep through the rest of the night. The added discomfort of carrying the undeserving corpse back to a port of men controlled by wealth and greed made him want the ordeal to end as soon as possible. The lack of sleep plagued upon his mind, using the death as a lethal weapon against his conscience. His muscles pumped battery acid and burned beyond feeling, yet he would not stop.

When he finally reached the port city, battle beaten and travel weary, he collapsed. His body defied any attempt to continue into the port, forcing him to lie there, dozing in and out of consciousness. His head ached from hitting it on the wagon plank, and each scratch was a gaping wound drenched in lemon juice. The dead body of his defeated enemy laid next to him, baking in the hot, festering sun.

A few hundred feet away, a young sailor stared as he watched two creatures burning alive at the outskirts of his new home.

Jake Thurdon ran throughout the town, spewing nonsense about two almost dead beasts trying to get into the small city. The locals ignored and ridiculed the youngster, knowing full well that anything living in the plains would never encroach upon a humanoid dwelling. It was that separation that resulted in the deaths of only the most foolhardy travelers. Several humans listened to the boy’s urgent news however, some even going as far as to follow him to see the intruders personally.

“I swear on m’ father’s grave, them beasts look mighty dangerous if they get up.” Jake’s small group of roughly a dozen men nodded in agreement, making sure to keep their distance from the possible threats. One of the creatures was completely motionless, but the second was still moving ever so slightly. At one point, it turned its head and looked straight at the onlookers.

“Great mercy! He’s a draconian!” One man more assimilated into the Dheathain society realized that the group of men were just standing around, watching a citizen die a graceless death on a dirt path leading to the city. “Come on men, we need ter get him inside before he croaks.”

At the sound of someone pointing out that there was no danger, the humans suddenly jumped into action, several hoisting the half-dragon above their shoulders, while others ran to distribute the news that a citizen was on the verge of death and needed medical care. The half-breed was carried into one of the nearest buildings, an bar, where a man poured glass after glass of watered down ale into the weak individual’s mouth. Annoyed at the special treatment he was receiving, Amaril raised a hand to stop the waterfall of fluids being forced down his throat.

“I’m… I’m alright. Just need peace and quite.” He dropped his arm, too weak to hold it up any longer.

“Ya right, and let ya die in yer sleep. You ain’t getting that chance in my bar.” The owner of the bar crossed his arm stubbornly.

Amaril rolled his eyes, half irritated and half exhausted. He knew he needed rest, but the body of his fallen enemy needed to be taken care of. If it burned and rotted outside, it would be a disgrace to all living creatures. He simply couldn’t let that happen. “The animal I brought with me…”

“Is dead sir. I fear that it has been for quite some time. Why’d ya have it with you anyways?” The barkeep’s eyes stared at him accusingly.
Amaril knew that trying to honor the dead creature was not a good enough reason to drag a dead body into the city. He would need to approach the subject from another angle. “It is the human eater, the one that everyone’s afraid of. Someone hired me to slay it.” He paused, a notion of guilt had come attached to the word ‘slay.’ “I need it to prove I did the job.”

Men all around him were whispering excitedly. He couldn’t here any full comments, but the gist of the conversations was that of admiration toward the brave mercenary and rejoicing that their most deadly plague on the plains was now gone. A few draconians snorted, knowing full well that the humans weren’t being picked off by this one creature that the half-dragon claimed to be the human eater. They sneered at the thought of the mercenary collecting his reward, knowing that it would only be a matter of days before someone else got killed by the beasts of the plains.

The barkeep nodded to the half-dragon in acknowledgement, the same joy and pride in his eyes as the other humans talking amicably amongst themselves. “Alrighty, I’ll see ter it that ya get the body. Prewitt, get yer lazy arse out there and bring the dead beast to the back of the building.” A young boy, no older than a teenager, leapt from a bar stool and dashed outside to do as he was told. “We’ll keep the body safe till yer good and ready to collect the reward. Tis the least I can do fer doin’ such a mighty deed.”

Amaril nodded, but inside his heart dropped. These men were making him out to be a hero, when all he did was kill a random animal.

By the end of the day, Amaril grew anxious. His wounds weren’t severe and his aching muscles had enough time to rest. Lying on a cot in a back room of the bar, he listened to the festive men drinking away the day’s hard work and talking about the beast hunter’s deeds. Unable to hear what was actually being said through the walls, the muffled laughter and jubilant talk going on was unsettling. He wanted to leave, go somewhere more secluded, but he was trapped unless willing to face the army of men inside, for there was no back door or window.

The room, in fact, didn’t have much of anything. To one side were a few crates and barrels, most likely containing the cheap ale laborers were so fond of. That was the only part of the tiny storage room no covered in dust. Anytime he stood up, cobwebs got tangled in his long, unkempt locks of hair, fusing together as if they were meant to be one in the same. The night progressed completely uneventful, other than once when the barkeep came in for another barrel of alcohol. Amaril had quickly feigned sleep to avoid the admiring eyes and praising conversation that would undoubtedly ensue if he were awake. Eventually, the noise in the main room died down, and he decided that it was time to get out.

He slowly pushed the door to the storage room open, peering outside to get a view of the inhabitants. There were two men slouched in chairs in the far corners of the place, the hardest drinkers of the night who couldn’t have walked to their homes even if they remembered where they were. One draconian was sitting at the front counter, staring into the wall with preoccupied eyes, a half empty glass mug held idly in one hand. Prewitt, possibly the son of the bar owner, sat on a stool behind the counter. As soon as the young boy saw the shadow of a new body, he jumped to his feet, mob seemingly flying into his hand.

“I’m doing my job dad. You don’t gotta check on me all the time.” He looked up, but the balding, muscular man that was his father was not the same person as the one exiting the storage room. “Oh, sorry ‘bout that. You feelin’ alright? I can get you something if you want, but I still have to charge you. My dad’s all about helping out heroes and all, but ‘business is business’ he says.”

Amaril shook his head. “No thanks. While I appreciate the hospitality, I’d much rather be on my way. I’m no hero.”

The boy’s eyes brightened. “But you killed the man eater! You can’t deny that.”

The draconian seemed to liven up at that remark, looking at the ignorant boy with disdain. Amaril noticed the expression and felt a strange desire to gain the draconian’s respect instead of the boy’s. “It was just an animal at the wrong place at the wrong time. It only attacked because I stumbled into its territory.” He looked at the draconian out of the corner of his eye, but the drinker seemed to have lost interest already.

The “hero” was just another mercenary, milking the humans for what he could and trying to act honorable in the process. The foreign trash entering Dheathain the past few months was despicable.

Realizing that his attempt for respect was lost on the draconian, Amaril added, “I’ll just take the body and leave.”

Ignoring the boy’s desire for him to stay and talk about past endeavors, the half-dragon exited the building and welcomed the sea air.

With a point in the right direction by a sleepy guard, Amaril found his way to the merchant area of the city, dragging the dead body behind him. The corpse smelled terrible, the stench of decomposition impossible to get rid of. If he hadn’t already been a loner, he was certain that people would leave him alone for the next few days. He still needed one more person to come in contact with before leaving the port behind however, and he began wandering around the market area. He had no real idea where to look for the ruined merchant. The man might be at another bar, staying at an inn, or he possibly had his own house. The only thing he did know about finding the thin, sickly man was that he would surely come to the market in the morning. Merchants couldn’t stay away from businesses and the exchanging of gold.

Amaril leaned against a building not far from the street, where he would wait for the few remaining hours of night to bid farewell to his side of the world. Once the man did come, he’d look upon the creature that devastated his small business and pay the mercenary the fee he was promised.

---------

The rest of the night passed without interference and the half-breed watched as men and women set up their shops for the day. As he watched the morning rituals of Talmhaidh’s citizens, he noticed that nearly half of the outside market area was devoted to food, mostly fruits and vegetables native to Dheathain. Remarkably hungry, the half-dragon hid the body of his fallen enemy behind the building, making sure that no one was around to see it. He then returned to the market, but he recognized none of the foreign fruits and as he thought about it, was entirely too hungry to be filled by such light provisions anyhow. Turning in a circle he looked at the various signs of the inside shops until he found one with a picture of a giant hunk of meat.

Salivating, he went inside and looked at the various meats. A butcher behind the counter eyed the draconian look-a-like suspiciously, but Amaril was too hungry to care. “I’ll have some venison, about three pounds worth. And if you could cook it a little, that’d be great.”

The butcher leaned forward, a roll of fat climbing over the top of the counter. “That’ll be twenty-five gold pieces.”

Amaril glared angrily. “That’s ridiculous! I’ve never heard of deer meat costing that much, even with it being cooked!”

The prejudiced man glared right back. “And ten more gold to cook it.”

Amaril almost punched the butcher, but held himself back. He didn’t need to get into trouble on the verge of leaving the port. The scent of meats was heavy and his nostrils flared. He was too hungry to haggle any longer. Taking the coins out of his pocket, he spoke in the most controlled voice he could muster. “Ok, here’s the gold.”

The butcher took it without another work and set to work on cutting the portion of meat requested by his ripped off customer. Amaril looked out the window to keep his mind off of things, and a sight caused him to immediately forget the quarrel.

“I’ll be right back for the meat,” he called out as he ran out of the butchery. Ahead of him was the man in possession of the prevalida daggers.

The half-dragon nearly tackled into the merchant in his excitement. For some reason he had expected a much more difficult search. “Sir, I’ve killed your monster.”

The merchant jumped at the sight of Amaril before recognition sank in. “Oh, it’s you. You killed the monster, you say? Well then, show it to me.” There was a heavy hesitation in the voice, but it went unnoticed.

The mercenary sobered from his ecstatic state at the mention of the animal’s dead body, but he nodded in agreement. Once again feeling guilty for the death of the innocent creature, he said nothing as he led the way back to the building. Anxiety hit him as he saw a few people huddled near the building he had left the corpse. There was no other reason for people to crowd around there that he could think of, so he quickened the pace. Behind, he could here the merchant start to breathe heavily, unused to anything faster than a trot.

He divided the small crowd with his arms, finding a man crouched next the animal’s body. “What are you doing to it? Leave it alone!” Amaril exclaimed, suddenly very possessive of the creature. He pushed the unsuspecting man away, causing him to fall from the ground.

“This… thing, sir, is causing a terrible smell in our district. You have no right to stop us from cleaning it up.” The fallen man glared at the half-dragon with an emotion mingled with anger and fear.

“And you have no right to touch what doesn’t belong to you.” Amaril turned to the merchant. “Here is your proof. Your man-eater is dead and I’ll take my reward now.”

The merchant hesitated yet again. “Um… actually… that’s not it.” Without warning, the man dashed away, crashing into a few people on his way.

A rage surged through Amaril. He would not kill innocent creatures only to be cheated afterwards. He hoisted the beast in his arms, muscles bulging and burning, and threw it as hard as he could. The heavy body lost height quickly, but managed to tackle into the merchant’s legs, sending the man to the ground. Pushing the body away from him, the mercenary had enough time to catch up and whipped his sword out. The point of the blade sat mere inches from the man’s throat. A woman behind him screamed in fear.

“This is the creature from the pit that your wagon fell into. I brought the proof you asked and you will pay me what you offered or I will take it by force.” A yell for the city guards erupted from behind.

The merchant saw an opportunity to avoid the promised payment. “I never offered you any reward. I’ve never even talked to you up until now. You can’t trick these people into thinking that I’m the thief, when you are clearly robbing me.” He looked at the much larger crowd forming a circle around the pair. “Please, citizens, stop this lunatic!”

Amaril suddenly realized his quandary. The merchant was making him out to be a criminal, and part of the crowd was taking in every word the man said. He could already see the accusing stares in many of the humans. The draconians and the fae however, sent their accusing stares toward the merchant. The crowd was split, he knew. Now he just needed to know if the side against the merchant would help him out. He looked away from the merchant and raised his sword from its position.

“I am not here to steal from this man. Why would I cause such a ruckus if that was my intention?” He looked into the eyes of several draconians and fae. “This man had already asked several of you for help, if I’m not mistaken, before coming to me. He asked for me to kill the creature that destroyed his small caravan. Now I am simply asking for the payment for that deed.”

He slowly sheathed his sword, turning his attention to several city guards standing in front of the crowd. Some had their weapons drawn, while others were listening intently. There was no way to predict how the situation would unfold, but his desire for the prevalida kept him rooted to the spot.

A surge of commotion came from a small section of the massive crowd circled around the two quarrelers. Erupting from it came four well armored men, most likely soldiers, followed closely by a richly adorned woman.

“My lady,” several nearby citizens breathed softly as they bowed in respect to the new arrival. Amaril examined her quickly and noted that she was a fae.

“What is this? Troublemakers disturbing the peace? Bartholomew, take them with us to the Council Hall. We’ll determine their futures there.” The front soldier nodded and with a wave of his hand, the rest moved in on the Amaril and the merchant.

“But…” exclaimed both the half-dragon and his hirer, but they were ignored completely. Heavy shackles clamped Amaril’s arms tightly behind his back, keeping his wings folded as well. “I’m not the criminal here!” he yelled directly at the fae woman, but she shook her head.

“We’ll discuss things further, but not here.” She turned to the crowd. “If you are just a spectator, go back to your business. This situation is concluded and there is no need for you to fall behind in you daily tasks.” As if they suddenly remembered that they had their own lives to attend to, nearly the entire crowd dissimilated into a much more minute group of six citizens.

“Am I to assume that the rest of you have some information about this unfavorable event?” She glared at the small group of five draconians and one fae as if to dare them to respond. Seemingly unperturbed by the threatening stare, four of the draconians and the fae nodded. The other simply turned and walked away. “Very well then. Follow us to the Council Hall and we will figure out exactly what was going on here.”

The lady fae turned her horse and started at a slow trot, allowing her guards to direct the prisoners at a safe, comfortable pace. Amaril looked to his left to see the grim face of the merchant. He opened his mouth to say something derogative, but held his tongue. Now is not the time for bad mouthing anyone. I’ve got to show this fae that I’m more respectable than this cheating man. The mercenary shook his head sadly. It won’t help that I am willing to kill things for payment or that I look like a draconian. I can only pray that she won’t discriminate against me for that.

As the party moved through the port city, citizens halted to stare at those passing by before tending to their own activities. The sun was hoisted directly above them, beating its heat down on Amaril and sending lines of sweat down his face, torso and legs. He had begun sweating much sooner in the day, but it was only during the monotonous march that he actually noticed.

It took about ten minutes before the horsed fae halted and got off of the four-legged beast. Tying the animal to a post on the side of the road, she turned toward a large building, one of the few made of stone. It was obvious that it was the Council Hall she had talked about previously.

“This way gentlemen.” She quickly made her way up the few steps to reach the entrance, opened the door and stepped inside. One by one, the rest followed.

Once inside, the woman walked at a brisk pace down the entryway, giving Amaril no time to look around at the new surroundings as was his custom. He and the merchant were led side by side, with a few guards in front and behind them. The five witnesses followed at the back of the group. They were led into a smaller room to the left, where the fae woman stopped and turned to the party.

“I’ll speak to you first,” she said as she looked directly at one of the draconians.

She opened a door to a separate room and entered. The citizen followed quickly. Amaril leaned his left shoulder against the cool stone wall, silently awaiting the judgment. One by one, the citizens with something to say about the situation were led into a smaller chamber where they told the fae leader what they knew. After speaking with her, they let themselves out of the Council Hall, acting as though they already knew the verdict. The half-dragon could only hope they told the lady of the merchant’s quest demands. Eventually, all five witnesses departed and the fae lady returned to the room with Amaril and the sulking merchant.

“I’ve never seen such unanimous statements against an individual,” she said sternly, and to Amaril’s relief, glanced toward the merchant. “I find it impossible to doubt that all five would tell the same lie and it seems this mercenary… or whoever you are,” she looked at Amaril momentarily, “has been telling the truth.”

Amaril sighed in relief. He advanced toward the merchant and the man, quivering in fear, groped for a small pouch of coins in his pocket. Handing it to Amaril, he almost took a step toward the door, but the half-dragon quickly stepped in front of him. The man pouted, but obliged to relinquish his prevalida blades as well. Sensing all was well, the lady looked at the two troublemakers, allowing them the opportunity to realize on their own that they were wasting her time. The merchant, heartbroken and financially devastated, darted out of the room, tears streaking from his eyes.

Amaril began to follow, but was stopped by the lady’s voice. “Sir, why are you here? If you’re just another mercenary, so be it. What I would really like to know is whether I need to keep my eye on you during your stay in this city.”

Amaril allowed himself to grin ever so slightly. “I won’t cause you more trouble. I’m just passing through and will be gone from your city almost immediately.”

Making his way out of the Council Hall, the half-dragon allowed his searching hands the comfort of stroking the new metal he now had hanging at his belt. He felt the odd feeling that he was becoming more dragon-like; more coveting of his treasures, but the beautiful blue blades beat those negative thoughts back.

((This quest was on the Dheathain Bounty Board when I started it and the rewards were for some gold and the two prevalida daggers. The daggers are the most important spoils if I had to choose between the two. He also unknowingly practiced some new ability with the earthy elements, due to his unique scale. Thanks in advance for the read. :)))

Agrigon :: I’ll be helping you out with this. Since it’s an older thread, I’m going to be going with limited commentary except where necessary. If you have questions feel free to PM me.

Continuity 6

Didn’t get much of a feel for who Amaril was other than a half-dragon, heroic figure with a penchant for wanting to horde. The goal was clear, it was the background and why he was in Dheathain to begin with that wasn’t so clear.

Setting 6

Just a little here and there, but not enough to really be something of note. Remember to write all 5 senses, not just sight. It’ll help the reader know what’s around you, and make it feel like a much more real place.

Pacing 7

Dialogue 6

Action 6

Some of the action, was exciting and realistic. Other parts were somewhat unrealistic and were more like just making someone look like a child, such as when the merchant ran out crying at the end.

Persona 7

Technique 6

There wasn’t much advanced technique, which could have helped a lot in establishing a story with a flair. Remember to keep the reader interested, and draw them in, advanced technique helps with that as well as pushes the pacing well.

Mechanics 8

Clarity 8

Wild Card 6

Score:

66!

Rewards:

Amaril: 2000 exp | 50 gold
((Prevalida daggers approved. Reduced the gold slightly to allow for them.))

Exp and GP added!