“Well, there’s not too much work around these parts since the Dragon Slayers moved in,” The bartender cracked a grin at the traveling warrior. “They take care of all our problems –for a hefty price, mind you– but I’m sorry to say there’s not much left for you, good sir.” The front door slammed open just then, and a large group of men poured in. “Ah, here are our famous Dragon Slayers now,” the bartender gestured extravagantly with her hand. “Slaughtered a mighty big lizard, too, by the looks of ‘em!” The men she referred to as the Dragon Slayers entered boisterously, swinging their sheathed swords around and hollering in triumph. One man broke free of the throng and approached the bar, dropping onto a stool and waving over the bartender, who practically skipped over to serve him. One could easily guess that this man was the leader of the Slayers. He tossed a dragon-skin pouch onto the bar. It slipped open, revealing a small collection of cerulean scales that were so bright, they almost seemed to glow. “Take them,” the Slayer said proudly. “We have thousands more where that came from, and a beautiful girl like you could use some fine jewelry. In return, I’d like to treat my men to some ale –in fact, I’d like to treat [i]everyone[/i].” He spun around to face the crowd that had gathered in the tavern. “Drinks are on me tonight, my friends!” He tossed another pouch of scales on the table, earning a roar of approval from his audience. “Must have been some kill, Gerbold,” the bartender said, snatching up the pouch of the blue scales hungrily. “I should say it was!” the man called Gerbold responded melodramatically. “The beast was enormous; largest one I’ve ever seen by far. This devil was at least ten times the size of any fully grown one I’ve encountered. It put up a sure fight, but of course it was no match for me and my men.” He puffed out his chest. “We will be bringing the leviathan back in pieces. Anyone who is willing to pay can have a bit of tail, leg, or heart.” “Gerbold!” a voice called out from across the room. A young man stumbled through the crowd to reach the Slayer at the bar. “Are you and your men going to chase after the dragons that fled?” “Fled?” Gerbold raised a brow. “Surely you must have seen them,” the young man said, mirroring the Slayer’s look of surprise. “There were hundreds of dragons flying past here earlier. They blocked out the moon and stars!” “Oh?” Gerbold looked at the young man greedily. “Which way did they go? I still have plenty of energy left for a good hunt before the night ends.” “They traveled to the East, towards central Erith.” “Men!” Gerbold trumpeted above the noise of the bustling crowd. The tavern fell silent. “I have just received word from this fine young lad that the dragons fled East when we slayed the leviathan. If we leave now we may still be able to catch up with them.” He stood up from his stool. “Come on then; the real hunt begins now!” --- SoNem tossed and turned, stretching out his limbs in the tall grass. Try as he might, he could not fall asleep. He snorted and sat up, finally giving in to his insomnia. He turned to look at Istaria, who lay snoring nearby. He wished he could have her peace of mind. The little dragonelle was blissfully ignorant of the horrors of the Queen’s bloody demise, while he, however, was scarred for the rest of his life. SoNem took a deep breath, inhaling the various smells of the forest. He picked up traces of woodland creatures and made a mental note to go hunting tomorrow morning. He also detected the distinct reptilian odor of his dragon kin. There were at least two others nearby; both female. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the scent of dragonelles. He closed his eyes, suppressing his primal instincts to find a mate. Survival was top priority. He sniffed again, this time smelling something else mixed in with the aromas of nature. The new scent was distinctly dirty. Like sweat. SoNem’s scales bristled and his [i]griff[/i] fluttered anxiously. Humans. His upper lip peeled back in a snarl. The wretched creatures just couldn’t be satisfied with the death of the Queen; they had to kill more. SoNem pinpointed the humans’ location. They were approaching the two dragonelles he had scented earlier. He hurriedly stood up and brushed his tail over Istaria, rubbing her scales the wrong way to wake her up. She lifted her head sleepily, gave a halfhearted sniffle, and then leapt to her feet when she smelled the humans. Without waiting for the serf to follow him, SoNem took off in the direction of the dragonelles to warn them. His slender frame allowed him to weave easily through the dense trees, and he reached them within minutes. Just in time. The humans had just begun to burst through the foliage on the other side of the small clearing. SoNem spat a stream of [i]foua[/i], creating a wall of fire between the humans and the dragons. The tall grass burned easily and the fire spread. Nevertheless, the humans were persistent. They fired arrows from crossbows on the other side. Luckily they couldn’t get a clear shot through the brilliant flames. “Hurry,” SoNem snapped at the dragonelles. This forest was not safe anymore. He spread his wings, all previous soreness evaporating beneath the adrenaline of the fight. Beating them forcefully, he lifted off the ground and rose above the tree line. He sensed Istaria close by his side and glanced back to check if the dragonelles were following. That was too close.