BlondyMcHuggles

Wanted: Squad of killers to dispose of Chosen One

Name: Zofija Halsey
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Age: 29
Appearance: Here
Religion: None
Backstory: Born in Zelamoyod to cruel and abusive parents, Zofija's childhood was far from ideal; she was cut off from the outside world, unable to make friends and to learn about many things, including morality. After years upon years of suffering, her parents sold her to agents of the Dark Lord on her 15th birthday.
The Dark Lord recognised her magical abilities soon after she came into his service; she was trained intensely for years, though the Lord was much more supportive in her learning. For the first time in her life, she was well-cared for, and finally had somebody to look up to. Once she had fully understood her own powers, she was a completely willing servant of the Lord.
Motivation: To serve the Dark Lord as best she can.
Magic: The ability to warp reality using psychic powers.
Skills/Strengths: She excels in using psychology to get what she wants; the use of violence isn't a first resort, though she's not afraid to get her hands dirty. In addition, she can warp reality, such as making things appear out of nothing, or making people think that illusuions are reality.
Weaknesses: Because of her undying loyalty to the Dark Lord, she is willing to do whatever he tells her to, even if her orders go against her own best interests. She's also not very trusting or trustworthy; the Lord comes first - everyone else is secondary to her.
Gear: Some nice clothes, a small knife and a pistol
Other: None

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

Written by @Mardox and I

Soon enough, the two had finished their food and were now on their way back to Herbert’s wagon; both of the girls were now wearing their cloaks. Rhiara’s fur cloak had plenty of white fur at its top, which bended in with her hair to give the illusion of a mane. Athaliah’s however, was the traditional brown and grey. There was perhaps an inch of snow on the ground and the girls were now even more thankful that they wouldn’t be walking. The pair spotted two more figures leading their horses, leaving where Herbert’s wagon was parked – though the wagon was still there, with Herbert and Erika themselves next to it. “Morning, you two!” Athaliah shouted merrily when she was close enough.

"Morning!" Called back Erika cheerfully as Herbert pushed a large iron chest into the wagon before smiling at Athaliah and giving a friendly wave to both her and Rhiara. "Ready to hit the road?" Asked Erika. "I guarantee that adventuring with Herbert is always interesting."

“Yeah…” Rhiara fidgeted with her glove nervously. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Athaliah was busy watching the two people lead their horses away. “So, who were they?” she asked inquisitively.

"Our item retrieval expert and her eastern bodyguard." Replied Erika. "They'll be joining us to get some documents and stuff that we'll need from a rather unpleasant Viarosan nobleman. They might stick around afterwards."

“Item… retrieval… expert?” Rhiara narrowed her eyes. “What’s –”
Athaliah interrupted her. “A thief, Weiss.” She spoke disdainfully. “Well, what’re these people ‘retrieving’?”

"There was another survivor from Krossavik who was obsessed with slaying Htraknu. Before he set off to do battle with the dragon, he amassed a sizable amount of information." Explained Erika. "When he left Viarosa, the nobleman in question seized the documents he left behind, along with some of his personal possessions. Once we have the documents and his personal things, we'll have more intel about Htraknu and we may be able to pinpoint where Bjorn hid out during his campaign."

Athaliah raised her eyebrows. “Okay, assuming that the noble has these documents and those thieves are able to steal them, what do we do then? Look for the camps this man set up that might not exist anymore?”

"The camps are one option," Interjected Herbert grimly, "but if we use the documents and items to find his remains - at least part of them anyways - then we can ask the man himself what we need to know." With that, he began rummaging about in the wagon's boxes for something.

“Sorry, sorry, what?” Athaliah replied, her expression in-between confused and mortified. “How can we ask the man if we find his remains?”

"Here it is!" Said Herbert in an almost triumphant manner as he produced a rather dusty and battered-looking book from a crate. The black-covered tome appeared to be positively ancient, and due to its black cover, the locks keeping it shut, and the unsettling symbols on the cover, it gave off a somewhat sinister air even in the bright morning light. The monster hunter turned to Athaliah and presented the book with a grim smile. "A little bit of magic, of course."

Athaliah squirmed on the spot. “Uhh, are you sure you know what you’re doing, Herbert?”
Rhiara also seemed uncomfortable, and she took a step backwards. “Please tell me you don’t do that kind of thing regularly.”

Herbert met Athaliah's gaze with a rather serious expression. "This isn't the sort of thing to fool around with. If I didn't know what I was doing, I wouldn't suggest it." The monster hunter and apparent part-time necromancer turned his attention to Rhiara. "I assure you that I do not partake in this sort of activity any more than absolutely necessary. Necromancy is not to be taken lightly."

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Athaliah replied. “I trust you though.”
“Me too. I know you’ll do what’s right.” Rhiara nodded. “What’s our next step, by the way?”

"Well, we gather the party and head back to Viarosa." Said Herbert. "If you've got any more packing left to do, you should probably get it done now."

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

Athaliah groaned as she got out of her bed; she’d have preferred staying in a little while longer, of course, but she and Rhiara were going to be busy this morning. Rhiara still slept in her own bed on the other end of the room. There was a room divider in the corner, for people to get changed away from prying eyes.

Athaliah appeared from behind the divider a couple minutes later, wearing her red jerkin and black trousers. The middle of her jerkin was unfastened, showing a simple black leather shirt. Rhiara was sitting up on her bed, patiently waiting for her friend. “Morning, Ath.” She said drearily, before getting up and heading behind the divider herself.
“Tired?” Athaliah replied as she flopped down on her own bed again.
“A little,” said the white-haired girl. “Uh, can I ask you something important?”
Athaliah sighed; she already knew what the question would be about. “Sure…”
“What’s going to happen now? With the whole ‘hunting a god-killing dragon’ thing?”
“We’ll meet Herbert and Erika back at their wagon in an hour or two. Then, well, I have no idea…”

The next two minutes passed by in complete silence. Rhiara emerged wearing a short black pad and leather dress, her high boots and her long gloves – her usual adventuring attire. Her metal knee guards and her pauldron were missing, being in Herbert’s wagon. “I’m gonna get some breakfast before we meet with Herbert and Erika,” Rhiara gestured towards the door. “are you coming?” Athaliah groaned again, forcing herself off her bed.

The two walked down the halls to the kitchens, dodging the odd servant who all seemed as energetic as always, despite their very early rise. Athaliah even noticed one or two that were present at the feast, long into the night. ‘These men must be made of iron.’ Ath thought to herself.
“Guess we’ll have to wait until I can teach you woodcarving, huh?” Rhiara sighed, breaking the silence between the two.
Athaliah shook her head, with a small laugh. “Really? We’re about to go hunting for a huge, god-killing dragon and that’s what you’re worried about?”
“It’s just… I don’t know, I don’t like breaking promises.”
Athaliah patted her friend’s shoulder. “It’s not breaking it; we’ll still do it, just later than we planned.”

Athaliah opened the door to the dinner hall, where many guests were already eating their own breakfasts. Almost as soon they sat down themselves, a servant approached them. He was rather old to be catering to the needs of the order’s guests, looking around thirty years old or so. “What would these two fair ladies like to eat, on this cold morning?”
Ath did her best to sound friendly to the man, even if she was still tired. “Two bits of hot, saucy mutton if that’s not too much trouble, thank you.” The servant nodded and left as quickly as he arrived.
Rhiara raised an eyebrow. “How’d you know I wanted mutton, Ath?”
“You’re very predictable.” Athaliah shrugged. “Mutton’s usually your first choice if you get to pick.”
Rhi smiled, privately glad that someone had noticed something so silly about her. “You notice the most useless things, you know that?”
“I do. You see those two people over there?” Ath nodded her head in the direction of two people chatting. When Rhiara looked, she ruffled her friend’s white hair playfully. “And you’re too trusting.”
“Hey! I worked real hard on my hair today!” Rhiara pouted. Without another word, she did the same to Athaliah. The servant from earlier on stood at their table, looking both confused and a bit vexed; he was probably standing there for a while. “Your muttons, my ladies.” He placed both plates on the table with a nod, and then hurried along to another.

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

My Hider

Name: Vineatien

Sex: Male

Race: Plant-Dragon (Dryad-dragon? Dryagon?) (A dragon was slain at the very spot where Vineatien "sprouted" from ages ago. The magical blood seeped into the soil before being absorbed into a seed planted underneath, in which the dragon's blood slowly transformed the seed into a bit more into the likeness of a dragon egg, while still retaining its botanic origins. It absorbed water and nutrients and created roots similar to the average seed, although it was to support the growing hatchling inside it. Once it was ready, Vineatien simply "sprouted" forth from the dirt.) If it's too weird though, then Vineatien could be classified as a plant-elemental dragon.
( orig07.deviantart.net/8c50/f/2012/103… Pic ref! )

Age: (1 dragon year=30 human years) 60 dragon yrs

Religion: Personally believes that a dryad allowed his creation to happen.

Backstory: Vineatien hatched from a egg-seed from within a forested lake area in Asmeinland. There he had remained there for nearly his entire youth-teenage stages, utilizing the ability of photosynthesis to keep himself fed. However, he lived a solitary life back then, only receiving social interaction from the plant-life around him.
Vineatien did, once stray from his place of origin, taking a trek that was curiously close to Hoffen. According to his thoughts, "...it was a strange place. Where the warm-blooded tamed the vegetation underneath them instead of letting them grow and expand..." The beast left Hoffen, after witnessing a harvesting of crops to which drove him away.
The news of Htraknu's actions had traveled as quick as the wind could carry it from plant to plant. The dragon had acquired the unusual understanding of plant language through their usage of spores and pollen. As days passed, the whispery-sleepy woods that Vineatien called home turned into a seemingly silent frenzy of panic. The dragon was in the middle with the frantic panicking and misery spreading among the undergrowth and trees. What could be described as a "momentary madness", Vineatien stood upon a boulder where he announced he would risk his own life so that plant-life could continue in case Htraknu did something horrid if he ever achieved godhood. "I could not think of the land where none of you survived, and I will preserve your kind even at the spilling of my own blood."
Afterwards, the dragon had to undergo intense schooling on a language of the warm-blooded, simply so he could communicate with humans/orcs/etc (as he previously didn't know how to speak). Once he shook off most of his thick accent, Vineatien left his wooden home in search for a way to fulfill his seemingly-impossible promise.

Motivation: To help bring peace back to his forest home so that the plants he lived with wouldn't continue feeling panicked. Though, it was more of a decision made out of uncertainty.

Magic: Born with magic/can use magic naturally.

-Regenerative/Healing abilities: When injured, vine-like plants sprout from the ground at Vineatien's side (or under if he's standing up), which quickly wrap around the site of injury to immediately heal said injury. If some part as been cut off, the vines will form a "cocoon" in the shape of whatever body part as been lost before untangling and revealing the newly regenerated part. Vines secrete a minty-green mucus that nubs pain and itching and is excellent for covering cuts, burns, and rashes. This mucus can also be collected and used by other beings.

- Enhanced vegetation growth-breath: Vineatien lacks the fire-breath that most dragons have. Instead, it's been replaced with a magical gust of air that can caused frenzied growing of plants and or vegetation. It can be good for creating a natural wall of untamed spiked plants or it can be good for accelerating the growth of crops and boosting their produce.

-Camouflage: Vineatien is able to tweak and morph his body to appear like a small grassy hill. Magic is used to make it a lot more natural-like.

-Growth/Shrinkage: Self-explanatory, Vineatien is able to adjust his size accordingly.

-Magical Blood: Oddly enough, blood from Vineatien can cause a variety of plants to grow (i.e A droplet of blood lands upon a barren patch of dirt. Plants will grow instantly). When drank, it can rejuvenate energy and give the person a "green thumb". Traces of Vineatien's magical blood can be found in the fruit he produces upon his horns which provides the same benefits (and a healthy snack). ( Fruit ref: cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/i… )

Skills/Strengths: Most of his "strengths" have been listed in the magic section! But here's a few skills!

-Excellent Runner: Due to the lack of wings, most of Vineatien's strength lies within his legs. He is able to run "as fast as the wind" in almost any terrain.

-Excellent Climber: Loosely tied in with the skill above, Vineatien had learned from a young age on how to climb. Harder claws allow him to bury them deeper and the strength in his legs allows him to climb up almost anything.

-Great Stamina: In order to compliment above said skills.

Weaknesses:

-Cowardice: Vineatien has never been in conflict before, and the decision to take on Htraknu was decided rather rashly.

-Shrinkage/Growth limits: Vineatien cannot overly-grow nor overly-shrink. To put it simply, the smallest that Vineatien can go would be to a medium-dog's size. The largest that Vineatien can go would be a 3-story house. ( For reference: eplans.com/house-plans/media/import/W… )

-Difficulties communicating: Due to learning the language "on the fly" so to speak, he has some difficulties with words. It could devolve to him just pointing at what he wants, or letting out different aromas by accident since that's the way to communicate in plant.

-Regenerative/Healing limits: Because it's actually the plants that do the healing job, they're limited in where they actually grow. One, they can't grow upon water (excluding shallow bodies of water), they can't grow through fire, and they can't grow in the air. If Vineatien is somehow injured while a.) being burned alive b.) drowning or was thrown into a deep body of water after being injured and c.) falling and dying in the air, then Vineatien CANNOT heal himself and will need outside assistance. Also this only applies to Vineatien. (He can't randomly summon these to heal someone else.)

-Lack of flight: Self-explanatory. No wings and weirdly no magical abilities to help him fly.

-Difficulties swimming: It's not like he *can't* swim, it's just that he has a bit of trouble. Similar to a dog swimming, except more splashy-splash. He isn't a Lily-Dragon ;p

Gear: A small straw-woven pouch. Mostly to carry small objects that might get lost on his back.

Other: nope!
(posted on a rush btw.)

@TheLittleBell

Your application looks good to me; Mardox would be more nitpicky but he's not here. Accepted.

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

Élise Marianne Lucie d'Astier

Name: Élise Marianne Lucie d'Astier

Sex: Female

Race: Narbosi Human Vampire

Age: 22

Appearance: Here

Religion: The Cult of the Dark Lady

Brief Backstory: Élise was born into this world as the sixth child of the exceedingly wealthy Count of Astier, Gaspard. She lived a relatively uneventful and quiet childhood, and she was mostly ignored by her ambitious father who lacked a place for his youngest child in his grand plan. Élise grew increasingly rebellious as she progressed through her teenage years, and with her being confined to the palace in the centre of the City of Astier by the strict Count, she was forced to spend most of her time in the palace’s library where she read countless tomes dedicated to the arcane and the many religions of the world. At first, this was more to pass the time than to actually study, however after she discovered a seemingly ancient book hidden deep within the library mentioning dark magic and a mysterious figure known only as Lilith, her studies took a more serious turn.

By her nineteenth birthday, Élise had developed a great understanding of the arcane arts in an attempt to unravel the secrets of the ancient tome she found years ago, even though she did not possess any magical abilities herself. This secret studying was easily kept hidden because of her father’s lack of care towards her, however she had to cease her studies after the Count decided to wed her to the young son of the Duke of Asselineau in an attempt to secure an alliance between the two men, much to Élise’s dismay. A betrothal had been secured, and after the Duke’s son, Adrien, turned sixteen two years from now, Élise would marry him. Over those two years, she grew increasingly desperate and sought any escape possible, turning to her study of the dark arts all the more fervently. This would culminate on the night before the wedding. Lilith herself finally appeared before Élise after years of desperate pleading by the Narbosi noblewoman, and offered the distraught woman two gifts: an enchanted sword, and the Blood Kiss.

Following this exchange, Élise awoke on her wedding day a woman reborn. She was no longer among the living, but neither was she dead. She was transformed by the Dark Lady herself into a pureblood vampire. She was now a Daughter of Lilith, filled with nought but an unquenchable thirst for blood and seething rage, and in her hands was a sword so sharp and cold to the touch that it could only have been crafted by a goddess such as Lilith. Suiting her vampiric nature, it was as if the sword itself also had a desire for blood. It was on this day that the Massacre of Asselineau Castle would take place. After first feasting on the blood and murdering of one of the maids who came to awaken her for the wedding, she proceeded to slaughter all of those she came across like a savage animal, rendering them with the sword, her magic, her fangs, and her bare hands. Among those she murdered were her parents and her five siblings, her fiancé and his immediate family, a large number of ducal guards, and the other guests at the wedding. After she was finally satisfied with her blood feast, she began to calm and collect herself, and only then did she come to the realisation of what she had done. The scene was gruesome and nightmarish, with untold disfigured corpses littering the blood soaked halls of the once beautiful castle. The bodies of her own family surrounded her, but only when she realised that the body in her arms that she had been feeding on, with its neck torn open, was her own mother did she completely break down. Élise let out an ear-splitting wail filled with such immense sorrow and regret that even Lilith was fazed by it. As Élise’s tears streaked from her stained cheeks and mixed with the blood that pooled around her, she soon realised that she must flee, lest she be found by the legion of guardsmen that were inevitably on their way to the castle.

From that day forward, Élise was never seen again in Narbos, and indeed the authorities presumed that she must have been one of the many unidentifiable corpses found at the site of the Massacre. In actuality, she had fled north, committing regular and regretful murders in order to sustain her unholy life as she struggled to contain the monstrous predatory instincts that were now a part of who she was. She did not blame Lilith for what had happened, and instead blamed only herself for losing control. As such, it was also during this time that she was visited a number of times by the goddess that gave her the gift of vampirism, offering Élise the comfort that she sorely needed in order to keep the memories of the Massacre at bay, as well as an enchanted set of clothes and jewellery to replace her bloodstained attire and that would help to both protect her and to keep her undetected in a world hostile to her. Since then, Élise has continued on her journey north, constantly staying one step ahead of those who are looking to bring the one responsible for the Massacre to justice as well as a number of vampire hunters, hoping to find a way to either control her vampiric urges, or to give in and embrace them entirely.

Motivation: To either learn to control her vampirism, or to embrace her role in the world as a predator amongst prey. She will learn about Htraknu after encountering the party bent on killing him, and will stay with them after offering her assistance to both prevent them from killing her and in an attempt to learn how to control herself.

Magic: Like all vampires, Élise possesses a natural affinity for magic. Even though she has spent relatively little time studying the arcane arts, she has become a very proficient mage with the help of Lilith, especially with regards to shadow and blood magic. She rarely uses her magic to kill (although this does not mean that she is unable to do so) due to her being too worried that it could lead to a situation similar to the Massacre of Asselineau Castle. Instead, she usually relies on her magic to remain undetected as a vampire and to influence others into doing what she wants, be it for seduction or simple persuasion.

Skills/Strengths: Due to her vampiric nature, Élise is far stronger and faster than any human could physically ever be. She can move without making a single sound, and has greatly heightened senses. Even among vampires, her eyesight and night vision are phenomenal. Whilst she is a formidable fighter with a sword in hand, if the situation allows for it she actually prefers to kill with her fangs and claws, especially as she begins to lose control over her predatory instincts. If she does lose said control, the immense strength and savagery that she exhibits can be described as nothing short of monstrous.

Weaknesses: As a vampire, Élise suffers several notable weaknesses. She cannot enter a home without the permission of the owner - although permission gained through deception and violent or magical coercion is valid, and the interpretation of ‘permission’ is somewhat open to loopholes. Due to her only recently having been turned into a vampire, when exposed to direct sunlight, she becomes incredibly weak, cannot use her natural magical ability, and experiences immense pain as the rays of the sun burn her skin like flame. She can also be repelled by someone wielding a holy symbol of any major deity - including the Shaituns - so long as that person has paid genuine homage to the deity long before attempting to wield the symbol against a vampire. She can only be slain by magic, fire, silver, decapitation, or a wooden stake through the heart. Note, however, that garlic has zero effect.

Gear:
• Enchanted Clothing
• Cloak
• Enchanted Necklace
• Enchanted Sword
• A significant amount of money

@EvangelineMarie

Application: Accepted.

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

Athaliah and Rhiara had both been staring at The Rock for quite some time. They had both left Herbert and Erika alone so they could have some room while they got ready for the coming trip to Mirador. Or, whatever it was that couples did. They were sat in the middle of a roughly square, grassy park bordered on all sides by white stone colonnades. There were plenty of other people in the park as well, but that was to be expected from a city such as Viarosa.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Athaliah said, half to Rhiara and half to herself.
Rhiara nodded slowly. “It is. It’s amazing to see civilisation and nature this close to each other.” If she had to be honest, she felt small looking up at the behemoth of a hill. She told her best friend as much.
“It’s kind of humbling. You can be the strongest, biggest man alive, yet you’ll still never come close to even the smallest of mountains.” She inhaled and exhaled deeply, as if to prepare herself for something. “Anyway, I’ve got something to show you.”

Athaliah pulled out a small wooden sculpture, in the shape of a winged unicorn. “I had it carved by Barclay last week, and I was waiting for a decent opportunity to give it to you.”
“I love it, thank you!” Rhiara replied, throwing her arms around her friend in a big hug. “Look at you, giving me a gift and I’m here with nothing.”
“That hug was enough of a gift, trust me.” Athaliah said, with a small laugh. She was sincere about what she said, though she hid it behind humour so she didn’t make Rhiara uncomfortable. Truth be told, she was quite smitten with her friend.

“Don’t be silly,” Rhiara replied, still smiling and staring at her wooden figurine. “You’ve started a dangerous game, Athaliah. You can’t get me a gift and expect me to not get you anything back.”
“Consider yourself lucky – I thought about carving it myself and you’ve seen how bad I am.”
Rhiara looked at the ground and shook her head with a smile. “That I have. Remember that time when you tried to carve a stag?”
“Don’t remind me…” Ath covered her face with her hands and exhaled deeply. She suddenly brightened up and pointed at Rhiara, usually her signal to say, ‘I have an idea’. “Hey, maybe you could teach me!”

“Well…” Rhiara began, in thought. “once we get back home after the feast, I will.”
Athaliah held out her pinky finger. “Promise?” She apparently took pinky swears more seriously than she should, if their past swears were anything to go by. She’d never let anyone hear the end of something until the promise was completed.
“Promise.” Rhiara replied, entwining her pinky finger with her friend’s. An unbreakable pact was now in place that could only be removed with the completion of that promise.

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

After three days of travel, the trio had finally reached the city of Viarosa. It was built onto a small peninsula, with a small mountain on one of the coastlines. It was, of course, one of the richest cities in the known world, owing to its naval trade routes and thus, one of the best defended. Just on the approach road, the three had met multiple guard outposts. Its navy was nothing to sneer at either; a dozen warships patrolled the coast while dozens more were in the many docks the city had. A pearly white wall went around the entire peninsula except for where The Rock stood, towering over anything and everything for many miles around.

Athaliah and Rhiara were simply stunned by the size and beauty of both the city and the Rock while Herbert remained himself, given what he had seen the city many times before. There were open pathways with trees and arches on the main roads going in and out of the city which led travellers all over the city. Herbert led his horse and wagon towards the stables, which were more or less dead-centre in the city.

The trio left the wagon, leaving their weapons and most other bits and pieces inside. There were numerous guards inside the stables exclusively for protecting goods and animals, so they could be sure their equipment would be safe. “Okay Herbert,” Athaliah began. “You lead the way? You know this city better than we.”

With a smile on his scarred face, Herbert waved for his companions to follow and began walking through the city. The three of them soon arrived at a townhouse with a sign bearing the symbol of healing. Positively grinning, Herbert pulled a key out of his pocket and opened the door after unlocking it. He stepped inside and placed his cloak on a nearby rack before calling out into the house. "Honey, I'm home. I've brought guests."

The response came from a few rooms away. "Welcome home. I'm with a patient, but I'll be there in a few minutes. Why don't you show our guests to the living room?" With that, Herbert gestured for Rhiara and Athaliah to enter and guided them to the living room.

“She sounds nice,” Rhiara said, looking around the living room.
Athaliah nodded in agreement. “You’ve got a fantastic house by the way, Herbert. Do you mind if we sit down, at all?”

"Thank you, feel free to have a seat on the couch." Replied Herbert. "Can I get you anything while we wait for Erika?"

Athaliah and Rhiara both sat down next to each other on the couch; they both looked somewhat happy to be next to each other, though of course, neither of them told the other one that. “Could I have some tea, please? Weiss, what about you?”
Rhiara began fiddling with her hands and she looked slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t want to impose…”
“He’s offered,” Athaliah said, patting her friend gently on the shoulder. “It’s rude not to take a man up on his offer.”
“Okay, could I have some tea as well, please?”

"Not an imposition in the slightest." Assured Herbert. "Feel free to make yourself at home while I get the drinks."

Once Herbert had left the room to get them their drinks, Rhiara and Athaliah began to talk among themselves. Athaliah’s hand was still on Rhiara’s shoulder, and she felt conflicted about the whole thing; she knew it was just a gesture of friendship and nothing more, but she did think of turning it into that something. Eventually, she decided against the idea – she’d rather not pursue a romance with her best friend, in case it failed.
“Rhiara? You there?” Athaliah said, snapping her out of her trance.
“Oh, yeah, sorry!” she replied, a little embarrassed. “I was just lost in thought.”
Athaliah raised an eyebrow. “Anyway… what do you think of Viarosa so far?”
“It’s beautiful! It feels safe, and there’s The Rock as well… I could just look at it forever.” The sound of footsteps coming back into the room broke their conversation.

The monster hunter returned carrying a tray with four cups and set it down on a small table in front of the couch. Two of the cups contained the tea that the guests had requested, while the third and forth contained hot cocoa and vodka respectively. With the tray in place, Herbert sat down on a smaller couch, and picked up the mug of hot cocoa, blew on it softly and began to sip at it carefully. As he was doing so, a shapely blonde woman with wavy hair entered the room and sat beside Herbert. She regarded Rhiara and Athaliah with a warm smile and greeted them. "Hello, I'm Erika. Who might you two be?"

Athaliah and Rhiara smiled back. “I’m Athaliah; it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Erika.”
“I’m Rhiara,” the white-haired girl said, looking slightly uncomfortable due to the situation she found herself in. “Sorry, I’m not… great when it comes to meeting new people.”
Athaliah spoke again, “Don’t worry about her; she’ll be fine once she’s spent a few minutes with someone. Herbert’s told us a lot about you, you know. Only nice things, I promise.”

Erika chuckled and leaned affectionately against Herbert, who gave her a quick kiss. "I should hope so. It's nice to meet you two as well. What brings you to our humble home?"

"Well," Herbert began as Erika sipped at her vodka, "after Rhiara helped me kill a basilisk, she and I were invited to a feast by men claiming to represent the Knights Solanian. I thought you might want to come along and enjoy the party."

"I'd love to come!" Said Erika enthusiastically. "A feast seems like great fun, and besides," she added playfully, "someone has to keep you out of trouble if your main business rivals are hosting the party."

Herbert chuckled. "Can't deny you've gotten me out of a tight spot or two. That one werewolf and those manticores are the first that come to mind."

With that, Erika turned her attention back to the guests. "So, tell me about this basilisk that you brought down."

Rhiara sighed deeply, not because of the story and her experience, but because she was shy. “Well… it was about twenty metres long, so it was really, really long. Herbert did most of the work really, I just helped. We took turn in attacking it while its attention was distracted, and then Herbert set it on fire with his fire magic.”

Erika raised an eyebrow. "Don't sell yourself short. It takes guts to go anywhere near a basilisk, let alone try to attract its attention. Even if you did 'just help', you helped fight a creature that could kill with a look." She turned to Athaliah and inquired. "What about you? I take it that you are a friend or lover of Rhiara's?"

Both Athaliah and Rhiara’s faces went red from embarrassment. “N-no, no! We’re just friends!” Athaliah stammered, looking around the room. Rhiara, meanwhile, had her face buried in her hands. “There’s absolutely, uh, nothing romantic between us. At all.”

Herbert and Erika shared an amused, knowing look as the two denied any romantic feelings a tad too energetically. Erika gestured for them to calm down and spoke. "Alright, alright, I didn't mean to upset you, you've made your feelings quite clear." The double meaning in Erika's words was, of course, entirely intentional. "I take it you are close friends?"

“Close friends, yes,” Athaliah replied; she had calmed down faster than Rhiara had, who was still blushing. “We’ve known each other for almost ten years. It was a good idea of our parents to make us spend time together, I think...”

"That's nice. We should probably get ready for the feast." Erika paused and corrected herself. "Well, I need to pack anyways and I think Herb might need to get a few things from around the house."

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

Night was beginning to fall on the town of Hoffen, and a cold one at that – winter was approaching too fast for the townspeople’s liking. The few people that were still outside didn’t walk around without holding their torches, and burning fires could be seen through people’s windows. Rhiara’s destination was on the other end of the town, though it was really only a few minutes’ walk away from the tavern. One of the main advantages of living in a small town like Hoffen was that everything was within walking distance, no matter where you were.

Athaliah’s house was one of the smaller homes in the town, but she insisted that it was a feature rather than a downside. The house did have a small fenced patio at the front, though. Rhiara knocked on the wooden door, using the heavy iron knocker that was shaped like a ring inside a lion’s mouth. She could hear the door being unlocked, and a few seconds later she was met with Athaliah’s face from behind the edge of the door. Athaliah was nearly a year older than Rhiara – not that anyone would have noticed. Her normally neat black hair was in a curly mess going down to her shoulders and there was a little hint of tiredness in her bright blue eyes.

She seemed quite surprised to see Rhiara at that time in the evening, but happy at the same time. “Weiss!” she shouted gleefully, pulling her in for a big, friendly hug. “You’re alive, so that’s a great sign. Did you kill the basilisk?”
“Easy, easy!” Rhiara replied with a laugh, hugging her back. “Me and the strange man killed it, yes; we had a little party at the tavern that I was going to tell you about, but you were out of town, apparently.”
“Militia stuff.” She replied nonchalantly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here just so you could stand out in the cold, did you now?” She led Rhiara inside, showing her the way to the front room. Athaliah wondered what Rhiara could have wanted; neither of them went to each other’s houses all too often – their work hours and other commitments saw to that. “So,” she began as she lit another candle to light up the room a bit more. “to what do I owe this rare pleasure?”

Rhiara sighed, still thinking of a way to tell Athaliah about their possible journey across the country. “Well… while we were celebrating in the tavern – Me and Herbert, that is – this group of well-armed and armoured people walked up to our table, and they claimed to be from the Knights Solanian – you know, that holy order from the south?”
Athaliah raised an eyebrow. She had never heard of the Order coming north that often. She wasn’t a fan of the Order by any means either – she always found religious militants untrustworthy at the best of times. “What are they in Hoffen for? I thought they hung around their fancy castle and never did anything unless it involved those fire folks.”

“They said that they intended to claim the bounty on the basilisk for themselves.” Rhi answered. “They seemed to take the news that we got to it first rather well. Now speaking of their fancy castle, they invited Herbert and I to Mirador, and they said we could bring friends. We have thought about it being a trap, but I’m travelling with Herbert to Viarosa first, to get his friend. We figured we’d be safer travelling in a group if they are bandits.”
Athaliah listened intently as Rhi told her story, and a little smile slowly appeared at her lips. “And you want us to go together? I’m not opposed to going anywhere with you, that’s for sure.” Athaliah bit her lip in thought. “Okay, I’m in, if only for the adventure.”
Rhiara jumped up with joy and gave her friend a tight hug. “We’ll be meeting Herbert back at the tavern in about twenty minutes.”
“Okay, okay!” Athaliah replied, ruffling Rhi’s snowy hair. “I’ll meet you back at the tavern then; I need to, y’know, get changed.”
“Me too. Oh, by the way - travelling to Viarosa will take about three days; I have a tent laying around that should be big enough to share.”

With everything said, Athaliah showed her friend to the door in the politest way possible. They both had a trek to prepare for.

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

A symphony of wind and birdsong filled the crisp air as it rolled along the grassy hills of Illyrica. The weather happened to be having one of those moments of interesting indecision, as the sun shone brightly over the fields, while the few dark clouds that did hang overhead sprinkled what rain they could onto the land below.

The stamping of hooves against the damp soil and the clattering of equipment and armor could be heard as a group of knights, five in count, came over the hill. The first, a burly man clad in plated mail and a pure, white surcoat with a golden, twin-headed eagle emblazoned upon the front. He rode a well-armored charger, looking back to his similarly equipped companions with an excited grin tugging at his lips.

"We're nearing the beast's lair. I can feel it. Towards those hills to the north," he said, gesturing towards the spoken direction.

"Good. Let's slay this creature, bag its revolting head, and ride home," said the hooded Shadow Elf just behind the human to his left. She examined her nails, faint wisps of ice dancing around her fingertips. "Perhaps I can freeze its flesh for use later at tonight's Feast?"

"Does the Grandmaster like basilisk?" asked another human, behind the first knight to his right.

"It's a delicacy whence I hail. Though doubtless it is lost on your human palettes..."

"Maybe we should be more concerned with killing the basilisk instead of whether or not to serve it to the Grandmaster?" said the meek voice of the fourth knight, a lithe young wood elf clad in painted white for his Order. He anxiously fiddled with the arrows in his quiver, ready to draw if taken by surprise. "Be on your guard. Basilisks are extremely deadly, and yet you treat it like it's the same as hunting a buck."

"Is Basilisk flesh not absurdly poisonous? How do you elves stomach it?" asked the fifth and final knight, a dark-skinned human in armor similar to the first knight's. Her face scrunched up in disgust at the mention of such fetid flesh.

"If you know how to properly drain it and cook it, it is a sweet and savoury meat. But the boy is right. Kill the monster before we argue recipes," replied the Shadow Elf. "Aethelred," she asked the human on the right flank, "Have you the mirrors? It would be a shame to lose the rookie on his first venture as an ordained Knight Solanian."

"Fuck off, Satresi," the wood elf muttered. The Shadow Elf only chuckled.

Aethelred pointed his quarterstaff to the wood elf. "Bite your tongue, Thulim." He aimed the staff towards Satresi, "Yours as well. There will be none of this in the presence of Captain Vilhmir."

"Kiss-ass," the dark-skinned woman coughed. As Aethelred swiveled around to silently threaten her, she began casually examining her flanged mace.

"Ease up, Aethelred. Tensions are high as it is. Look where we are," Vilhmir said. "The emerald fields of Illyrica. Take a breath of Goddess Veturia's finest air and admire the mountains in the distance."

"Well and good, but we cannot afford to in-fight this way. Someone has to deliver discipline," Aethelred curtly replied. He turned back to the dark woman. "This does not make me a kiss-ass, Khadijah."

"Basilisks are practically routine bounties by now, Red," Vilhmir laughed. "You'll learn soon enough, Thulim. Just don't look it in the eye and aim for the spine. Tether it down and I'll take my axe to it. If we work quickly it should be about five minutes, factoring in a victory mead."

As much as Thulim was encouraged by the sound of that, Aethelred could only think about how he was beset on all sides by madmen. "Routine? Victory mead? I assure you this is no game. Norsid you may be, the basilisk is one of the most dangerous creatures ever spawned by the Shaituns of Hell to plague the mortal world!"

"Seems like the wolf and the vixen are getting married," Vilhmir replied, holding his armored hand out and looking up into the sky. The sunshower was a peculiar occurrence, though nothing unnatural. It was a good omen, the Northman figured.

"You call it a wolf's wedding as well?" asked Khadijah from the back of the group.

"Huh. The Wood Elves always said the wolves and the deer were--"

"Not one of you is concerned for your lives, are you?" said Aethelred.

"I've lived thirty and three years. I'm nearly into my middle life," Satresi remarked. "If I die today I'll have died fulfilled, having served our Lord Solanius. I'll rise cleansed of Dolekar's Curse."

To that Aethelred went silent, having no argument with which to challenge the elf. Thulim, on the other hand, did have something to say. "Are we any closer to the beast's lair? I'm eager to try it's meat tonight. Sooner we kill it..."

"We're closer to a local hamlet," said Khadijah, reaching for the pack strapped to her horse's saddle. She pulled out a rolled up map of Illyrica. "Hoffen should be to our west. Vilhmir, should we stop there and ask around about the basilisk?"

Vilhmir quietly considered for a moment, before looking over his shoulder. "Absolutely. After all, there's no doubt in my mind other hunters are aiming to slay the monster. The more the merrier."

So Khadijah advanced towards the front of the group, leading the five knights on the trail to Hoffen. The rest of the trip was largely silent as the companions focused on following the proper trail to their destination.

When they finally arrived, there was a distinct moment of collective dismay; the town was largely empty, with the sound of raucous celebration roaring from the tavern.

"Seems we were late to the party," Thulim noted, dismounting his horse. "That, or something else is being celebrated. Shall we?"

The rest of the knights dismounted and followed Thulim into the tavern.

The celebration seemed largely centered around a table where a white-haired young woman and a scarred man in a black cloak were sitting. The man's hood was back, showing his dark hair, and he calmly sipped at a mug. On the table was the sizable severed head of a basilisk. In addition to being severed, the head was complete with charred flesh where the eyes had been and a couple of arrow wounds were visible. As the knights entered, the scarred man looked to them and raised an eyebrow.

The response to the slain basilisk was mixed. Aethelred and Thulim were relieved enough that it was dead, Khadijah was indifferent, and Satresi - upon sighting the charred flesh - frustratedly huffed and decasted the faint, wispy aura of ice around her fingers.

Vilhmir, however, was markedly impressed and intrigued. He was first to step forward, arms held out wide. "Brother Nords! I would be first to congratulate you, but it appears that the good people of Hoffen were first to hear of your great deed!" He said, to the confusion of his companions. He withdrew his coin purse from within his surcoat and approached the barkeep, personally handing him three gold coins. "A round of your best mead for the brave warriors and for myself," he told him.

As the bartender worked to deliver, Vilhmit turned to the man and gave a deep, courteous bow. "Knight-Captain Vilhmir Jorleifsson, of the Knights Solanian. My companions and I owe you for disposing of the basilisk; we had intended to kill it ourselves."

The scarred man gave a respectful nod but did not quite bow. "Herbert T. Leintke, no affiliations. Were you hoping to collect the bounty?" As he spoke, Herbert put down the mug. It wasn't a very strong drink, but better safe than sorry. This crowd didn't look like an average band of mercenaries, and they might have claimed to represent the Knights Solanian, but one never knew. If they were after the bounty, they probably wouldn't be too happy about someone else claiming it. If they did try to rob him, he'd best take down the shadow elf first; she was clearly a mage. Hopefully they weren't looking for trouble, though. Even with Rhiara's help - which he couldn't really count on - he'd still be outnumbered more than two to one. As the basilisk would no doubt have agreed, those were not favorable odds.

Rhiara definitely felt intimidated the presence of five knights at the end of their table. Even with Herbert, they wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight. Still, the ‘knights’ wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything in the tavern. She might as well introduce herself, she thought - after all, they could indeed have no intentions of malice, and she didn’t want to be rude. “I’m Rhiara. I work for the carpentry workshop you might have seen in the town, so… this is not how I expected my day to go…”

Vilhmir let out a boisterous laugh, removing his sword from his sword belt, taking a seat at the table and placing the sheathed weapon at his side. A barmaid had come around with the requested drinks, setting three new mugs on the table. "Bah, a bounty is only money. Though the Knights Solanian always appreciate the funding, what we have within us is worth more than any King or Sultan could offer. What I want is to hear your story, my friends. How did you slay it? What do you plan to do with the money?" he asked, then taking a swig of his mead, nodding approvingly. White Acre was, in his opinion, one of the finest brews available. What a wealthy land, this Illyrica.

"Ah, Captain Vilhmir?" Aethelred started.

Vilhmir turned to his four companions, all awkwardly standing in a line facing him. "Oh, by the gods, please forgive me my rudeness. These are my brothers and sisters in arms who accompanied me looking for basilisk blood. My second-in-command, Sadresi Nadthran. A close friend of mine, Khadijah Nedali. The young wood elf with the bow is Thulim Willowvale. And last but not least, the Bryon with the quarterstaff up his ass is Aethelred of Faeborough. Please, have a seat, you four."

Each of the knights pulled up chairs and sat around the table, eyes on Herbert and Rhiara. "I'm interested to know if your plan was any different than Vilhmir's, here," Sadresi commented, regarding the captain with narrowed crimson eyes. "Ice magic, tether arrows, and many mirrors."

Herbert shrugged. "Somewhat different. We used fire, normal arrows and five mirrors. The basilisk only came across one mirror. As for my share of the bounty, that's my business. Why did you come to kill the basilisk?" He supposed it was possible for them to be hunting it for altruistic reasons; after all, he'd slain a few beasts for free when they were preying on folks who couldn't pay. The phrasing of 'basilisk blood' however, sounded as if they might be glory hounds. Folks hunting dangerous creatures for egotistical reasons tended to be trouble.

There was a moment of silence as Herbert told his riveting tale, much to the disappointment of Vilhmir. 'He must be one of those fancy New Nords. Damn Asmeinians think they're so above their heritage, so much better than the rest of us for forsaking their warrior-poet traditions,' he thought to himself. He exchanged a few glances with his party, who were just as let down as he was.

“My friend here, left some details out.” Rhiara said, looking at him with a small smile. “You see, we placed five mirrors near the general area of the basilisk’s lair, hoping that it would come across one nearby to us. While it was distracted, we’d kill it by the means Herbert mentioned.” She tapped the table with a few of her fingers. “It came across one of our mirrors, which just happened to be right next to us. We got a nasty surprise when we heard it hissing with its neck frill out to here. We both looked at it and we were both lucky enough not to look into its eyes – so Herbert here distracted it with his fire magic while I went around it with my bow and a few arrows. I loosed arrows on it a few times which made it turn around, then Herbert burned it with his magic some more. We repeated it a couple of times, before the basilisk made a bee-line towards Herbert. He just burned its eyes out. That’s that.”

Now that was how one told a story of valour. Well, it was better than the Asmeinian in any case, Vilhmir decided. Had it been him, he would have elaborated in an prose-like fashion, starting from the beginning. If it had been especially tipsy, he'd have sang the tale, like the Skalds from up north and back home would do it. Most intriguing was Herbert's ability to manipulate magical energies. As he didn't *seem* like a halfling, he suspected the use of blood.

"A fine tale from mighty warriors indeed," Vilhmir replied. "My sincerest congratulations to the both of you." He turned to Herbert. "Ah, now to answer your question. We were on orders from Lord Konstantin Hristov of Mirador, the Seneschal of the Illyrican Chapter. The well-being of the people of Hoffen was our chief concern, of course," he said, shrugging dismissively, "However the prestige is certainly a motivator. We weren't here for the bounty, my friend - that is your well-earned money. We simply wished to eliminate the blighter after reports of deaths were collected from this area."

"Hey, Captain Vilhmir?" Thulim asked.

"Hm? Yes boy?"

After a brief moment's silence the wood elf managed to spit out his request, "Perhaps we should invite them to our feast?"

At this, Herbert raised an eyebrow. "Who is hosting this feast you speak of and what are they celebrating? You might just coax a few proper stories out of me yet." If he were invited to this feast, hopefully he would be permitted to bring someone along. It would be nice to spend some time at a celebration with Erika. A little time off wouldn't be such a sin, would it? Of course, that was assuming that he was invited.

Khadijah leaned forward, suddenly becoming engaged in the conversation. "Lord Hristov is our host for the evening. He's in the midst of preparing a grand dinner for the people of Mirador in celebration of the safe arrival of the Grandmaster, who has come all the way from our capital holding in Aesernia to address the rise in otherworldly, unholy activity in Illyrica. The basilisk you two slaughtered was just one in a series of attacks on behalf of magical beasts here and up in the mountains."

"Of course, while this makes it so that there is no small shortage of bounties to collect," Satresi remarked, "there is a clear pattern, so the Order has noticed. The Grandmaster suspects darker forces are at work, and he wishes to get to confer with his vassals in the area personally, lest any..." her voice fell to a whisper as her eyes darted about the tavern full of excitable and curious peasants, "unpleasant and unwelcome individuals, get a hold of any parchment correspondence between Illyrica and the capital."

Vilhmir appeared to be considering something to himself, grooming his long, blonde beard. "The two of you took on a beast that usually requires small warbands like ours to kill. You did this yourself without restraining the monster. If that is not the mark of the blessed, I'm unsure what is. What if I were to say you and any friends of similar calibre you have were invited to Mirador for our feast. What say you in response?"

Rhiara listened intently to the knights at the other end of her and Herbert’s table, but she didn’t like what Vihmir suggested. “I’m flattered, but I have commitments here – with my work, my family, my friends. Mirador is quite a trek away…”

"Lass, if you took that work seriously, you wouldn't have shirked it to run off with a strange man and kill basilisks. Believe me. When I was your age I was but a farmhand with a knack for killing dire wolves in the fields of Osland," Vilhmir said with a chuckle. "It wasn't my job to kill them, and I usually didn't kill them on civilized territory, either."

She nodded slowly at the knight’s explanation. “I suppose you’re right… Okay, I’m in – so long as I can bring my best friend along.”

"As long as she can fight nearly as well as you can – the Grandmaster is going to want to see you all, no doubt in my mind," the Nord replied, nodding his head gently. "Well. You can travel with us or by yourselves. I suppose we'll stock up on supplies and make the trip back to Mirador?" he asked, looking back to his companions, who all nodded at him. "Catch us on the way out of Hoffen, we'll be happy to escort you."

Herbert broke his silence. "Well, assuming there's time for me to pick someone up from a few days away, I'll be there. I mean no offense to your warband, but no escort is needed." If they were liars after the bounty, they were elaborate ones. He knew for a fact that Mirador was indeed an Order stronghold, so they'd hardly be trying anything there.

With that, Vilhmir and the rest of the knights stood up. The captain finished his drink and collected his sword, nodding to the two adventurers. "Very well. I suppose we'll be on our way then. Feast is in about a week, when the Grandmaster is expected to arrive. Gather any friends you wish to bring and come down to Mirador. I'll send word ahead of me that we have additional honoured guests," he said. As he walked towards the door, a seemingly distracted young woman walked into him, spilling her cup of mead and letting out of gasp of horror as the Captain's white surcoat was splashed with drink. "Terribly sorry, sir..." she stammered, wiping the knight's clothing in a futile attempt to clean it.

Vilhmir cursed in his native tongue as the mead splashed onto his surcoat, soaking through under the cloth. He let out a sigh, gently shoving the woman aside. "You've done enough, lass," he said, brushing past her.

"Tough luck, Captain," Satresi remarked, walking alongside him.

"It's not worth a barfight. I can have it cleaned here in town," Vilhmir replied.

At least so he thought.

---

Once the knights had left, Herbert looked to Rhiara and spoke. "You did quite well with the basilisk. What do you think of this feast that they were talking about? It is located at an Order stronghold."

Rhiara rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “I’m not sure what to make of it; I’ve never concerned myself with the Order before. Couldn’t they just be… bandits? Extremely good bandits, with all that gear?”

"They could be." Said Herbert. "If they are, they could be trying to lure us out of town to rob us on the way to Mirador. You'll notice that I didn't mention which direction that someone a few days away was. Myself, I'll probably go, but I wouldn't recommend taking a direct route from here to Mirador. I'm going to head down to Viarosa and then to Mirador. You and your friend can come along if you like."

“I do think that would be best. We’re less likely to be robbed and murdered when we have more people with us… or well, murdered and robbed - I’m not happy with either of those outcomes. Are you going to start heading off right now?”

"I'm all packed up and ready to go but I'll wait for you and your friend. How much time do you need?" Herbert sipped at his drink, more relaxed now that the knights or bandits - whichever they were - had gone. He idly wondered if he should train the young woman in the art of hunting monsters as she had some potential. Well, he'd do so if she asked him to but he wouldn't bring up the matter himself.

“I only need about… half an hour, at most?” she replied, rubbing her chin. “I need to get some supplies for the trek and not to mention, I have to convince my friend to actually come along. I’d best get started; I’ll do my best not to keep you waiting for too long.” Rhiara offered her hand to Herbert. “It’s been a pleasure, by the way.”

Herbert shook her hand. "Likewise. I'll see you within a half hour."

To Meddle in the Affairs of Dragons

The workshop of Hoffen was always rather loud; master and apprentice were constantly at work creating construction materials for the expanding town. It was quite a mess with wood shavings and bits of iron littering the unimpressive wooden floor. The workshop’s master was a middle-aged man, his height as equally impressive as his beard. His apron wasn’t light brown when he bought it. The apprentice, however, was almost the exact opposite of the master; she was soft and squishy where he was muscular; had long, white hair while he had barely any and a feminine, almost cute face instead of the master’s chiselled profile.

“Weiss, how are the chair legs coming along?” the master asked, he himself working the seat and backrest of what will presumably be the same chair. Rhiara, or Weiss as she was sometimes called due to the colour of her hair, was concentrating so hard on carving a leg that she didn’t hear her master’s question. “Rhiara. The chairs?” he asked again, louder that time.
“Oh! Er, I’m carving the last one now.” She pointed in the general direction of the carved legs. “They still need sanding though.”
“Once I’m done with this…” he grunted as he forced a joint together. “back – I’ll be with you.” Rhiara nodded to her boss and they were both once again hard at work.

Rhiara found her job to be hard at first, but as the year went on she actually began to enjoy it. It helped her with the wood carving that she did whenever she got some free time which, between working at the carpentry workshop and going hunting with her dad, wasn’t very often. She began thinking about what she would start to carve next; a deer? Maybe a unicorn. Her line of thought was interrupted when the only door to the outside opened.

She and her master both looked up from their work to see a person clad in the light armour of a town militiaman. Rhiara’s mind began racing to conclusions even though she didn’t need to be worried about anything. That was until she saw the militiaman’s face. The militiawoman’s face, that is. Her name was Athaliah; she was a Foverósi, though her family moved over to Illyrica when she was a child; she was also Rhiara’s best – well really, only – friend in Hoffen. She gave Rhiara a little nod with a smile, before eying the master. “Barclay, you don’t happen to have five mirrors laying around, do you?”
“Whatever the hells for?” he replied, looking at Athaliah like she’d finally lost her mind.

“Someone new in town asked. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who wants to decorate his house; he said he hunts magic creatures, so if I had to guess, he’s after the bounty on that basilisk.”
Barclay looked like he had even more questions and no answers following Athaliah’s explanation. “Well, we have a few in the back room, but…”
“There’s another thing. He said he’s looking for someone good with a bow.” Her eyes fell on Rhiara, who immediately shook her head vigorously.
“I go hunting with my dad, once a week! I can’t take on a basilisk, if that’s what he’s even doing!”
“Just talk to him, he’s in the town square last we spoke. Think of the bounty…” she added, a teasing undertone in her voice.

Rhiara sighed and glared at her best friend. She didn’t want to go hunting now, much less with a stranger who’s after a basilisk. Then again, Rhiara had a habit of doing what other people wanted without much persuasion; it was one of her bigger weaknesses. “Okay, fine - I’ll find him when I finish work for the day; I’m not just leaving right now. Tell him to be in the tavern for three.”
“Will do. I need to get going anyway; the Captain’s going to be pissed if he finds out I’m not making myself useless today.” After an exchange of departing pleasantries, Athaliah left the room, leaving Rhiara and Barclay on their own.
“You’re not seriously thinking about doing this, are you?” Barclay muttered, shaking his head in disappointment. While he didn’t always show it, he cared about Rhiara in a purely platonic master-apprentice way.
“I guess I am…” she replied, though her voice clearly gave her doubts away. With nothing more to be said, the two carpenters continued their work in silence.

---

Rhiara made her way towards the tavern at the centre of the town; it was an old, ugly building with decaying wood, mossy stone and dusty windows which somehow still managed to let some light through to the outside world. Still, it was where people in town came after a day of work to socialise and get drunk, much like in any other town. Despite its rather ramshackle appearance, it had a certain charm to it; since it did what it was supposed to, nobody cared how it looked. Much like the people who lived there.

The heavy wooden door opened with a quiet creak and Rhiara found herself in a large, open room with tables on both sides of the room and a semi-circular bar in the middle. The bar was probably as old as the building itself, and obviously in the same state of disrepair. She slowly made her way to the woman behind the bar; she was young - like most bar maids, come to think of it – with long, flowing golden hair and not to mention, an impressive bust. Lysandra had been kind to this woman. Rhiara caught herself staring probably a little too long, causing a cute blush to appear on her face.

Rhiara slowly made her way to the woman, while looking around for the man she was supposed to be meeting. “Well, you’re new! I didn’t think Hoffen had any cuties left to find! What can I do for you?” Rhiara found herself blushing furiously; she wasn’t used to being called cute by, well, anyone.
“I’m looking for someone who’s calling himself a magic creature hunter and I was supposed to meet him here, any idea where he is? And, uh, thank you, by the way.”
The barmaid smiled and pointed at a table in a dark corner of the tavern, where a lone man sat with his drink and a book. “I think that’s your man – he was nice enough, but I’d be careful if I were you. I can’t lose a customer as adorable as you are!”
“You are relentless… Thanks for the help!” Rhiara walked up to the table where the hunter was sat, though she kept the barmaid’s warning in her head.

As the young white-haired woman approached, the man closed his book and gave a respectful nod. He wore a hooded cloak over a leather cuirass. At at each of his sides was a scabbard holding a sword. His face likely would have been quite average if not for the four long scars across it.

Once the scarred man had put his weathered book away in a satchel, he extended a hand in greeting. "Herbert T. Leintke. I take it you're the one who asked to meet me here?" Despite his somewhat intimidating appearance, he seemed relatively friendly, or at the very least, polite.

“I am, correct.” She replied as she shook his hand. “I’m Rhiara Ludenburg. I heard you were looking for someone who could use a bow, so here I am. If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly are you going to hunt?” Rhiara knew the answer already, but she wanted to hear it from the man himself.

"I'm here to hunt the basilisk that has been causing trouble around these parts." Replied Herbert, rather predictably. "Seeing as basilisks can kill with a look, I have to ask, just how skilled are you with a bow? I need a completely honest answer on this." She seemed rather young to be hunting monsters, but then again, he himself had started rather young and he had been on his own for the most part. As long as she could follow instructions, she'd probably be fine. Still, there was a chance she'd be killed and that was what worried him.

Rhiara sighed deeply, knowing that her answer wouldn’t be one that Herbert would have hoped for. “I’m okay with a bow; I go out into the forests with my dad once a week, hunting small game like rabbits.” She could have mentioned her magic shapeshifting ability, but she didn’t know if she could trust a person who hunted magical creatures with that kind of information. “Have other people volunteered to help you, at all?”

Herbert grimaced. "You're the only one who has stepped forward. If you can follow instructions, then I suppose you'll have to do. At least hunting small game requires accuracy. If you're willing to come along, we'll split the bounty halfways, but I get to keep the basilisk. Fair enough?" He much preferred working with hirelings rather than volunteers as they tended to know the dangers a bit more, but a town like Hoffen had a distinct lack of mercenaries.

Rhiara nodded. “Of course. So, before we go I heard you wanted some mirrors as well? There are a few in the workshop I, well, work at, that should be big enough.” She hoped the tales of mirrors distracting basilisks were true, but as basilisks could kill people with a mere glance she had a tough time believing that tale.

---

After Rhiara and Herbert had collected five rather large mirrors from the workshop, they began heading through the forest near Hoffen towards the basilisk’s lair. Rhiara carried two mirrors on her back while Herbert carried the other three. The forest had been explored enough that it had its own dirt trails winding through wide enough gaps in the trees. The trees reached up to touch the sky and small animals ran along the forest floor, avoiding the two humans who were giants compared to them. Rhiara didn't like the silence that had fallen between her and Herbet, but she - as was common for her - remained quiet. The silence could help them locate the basilisk, so it had its advantages.

Once Herbert had managed to figure out the basilisk's location, the pair began placing mirrors nearby. With the mirrors ready, Herbert gestured for Rhiara to move behind some nearby trees before taking cover near one of the mirrors and pulling out a small metal flask. As soon as they were both in place, the scarred hunter bellowed a challenge to the sky. Within minutes, the basilisk arrived on the scene and began searching for the source of the noise.

Upon spying its reflection in the mirror, the beast advanced hissing loudly with its neck frills out. Herbert waited for it to move closer to its glassy rival and once its attention was fully focused, he attacked. The slayer inhaled the air above the opened container, concentrated and spoke a word of power while thrusting his gloved palm in the direction of the basilisk. A ball of blue fire raced from his hand and scorched the reptile's scaly hide, drawing its attention.

Rhiara saw her opportunity, as plain as day. With the basilisk’s attention focused on Herbert, she could get one of two arrows out before it knew where she was. Rhiara put her bow and a spare arrow in one hand, while her other hand nocked another arrow and drew the bow. She loosed her grip on the string, sending the arrow flying straight into the basilisk’s side. She took the arrow already in her hand and nocked that one, though before she could send it at the basilisk, it began turning around to face her. Rhiara’s eyes snapped shut involuntarily, and she dove behind the nearest tree to avoid the creature’s fatal gaze.

As the beast turned to face Rhiara, Herbert willed forth the flame once more. The fire scorched the basilisk’s side and it wheeled about, hissing angrily. The animal’s sizable burn seemed to slow it down somewhat but its eyes were no less deadly and Herbert dove back to cover. Unable to see its fiery adversary, the beast tasted the air with its tongue to try to locate the monster hunter.

Almost as soon as it had turned around, another arrow slammed into the beast, where its neck might be if it were an incredibly long person. Rhiara would have hoped to hit the basilisk in the head in order to shorten the fight, though that meant being able to see its head in the first place – and the beast’s gaze made that plan unbelievably risky. Rhiara sighed in frustration as she nocked another arrow. The arrow flew downrange into the basilisk’s neck frill. The beast hissed in pain for the first time, its head swivelling at an inhuman speed to look in Rhiara’s direction.

The moment it began turning towards Rhiara again, Herbert used up the last of the magic in the flask of blood to unleash another ball of fire that scorched the reptile's tail. As quickly as he could, he reached for another flask while the basilisk turned. The beast began slithering towards him rapidly, apparently now considering him to be the greater threat. Knowing that it's gaze would be upon him the moment it neared his hiding place, he used all of the magic in the second blood flask to hide his face with a small curtain of flame that he then willed towards the basilisk. The monster tried to turn away but momentum carried it directly into the fire. It's eyes were burned out by the magical flames and it collapsed, dead. Herbert breathed a sigh of relief. Fighting something like a basilisk was always a major risk. He called out to where the arrows had come from. "Are you alright?"

“I’m fine!” Rhiara shouted back. She could feel her heart slamming against her chest at what felt like a million miles an hour. As she took in several deep, shaky breaths, the reality of the situation began to hit her; the basilisk was dead. She almost died a few times, but she and Herbert had succeeded. “Brilliant magic, by the way.”

Herbert smiled and stepped out into the open. "Thanks. Your shooting and timing were rather impressive as well." He walked over to the dead basilisk and picked up the end that had most of the arrow wounds. "Help me carry this to my wagon, will you? We've got to get it back to town to collect the bounty. Be careful of its blood, it's still quite dangerous."