Timoster stood at the base of the mountain. He had been there before a couple of times, yet it still looked terrifying to him. Aside from the beasts that could lie within it's caves and the merciless cold the climb itself would be a challenge for most people. From what he had heard the steps were extremely sloppy, wolves roamed the upper sections of the mountain and corpses of unlucky pilgrims and hunters riddled with diseases weren't uncommon. He was more than ready to make the climb, though, as he had brought his sword, wands, potions, food and even a magical scroll with him.

This adventure was something Timoster had never done before. He couldn't get used to the idea that he could be in the same group with vampires. There was a Breton in the group who looked like a vampire or, more accurately, didn't look entirely like a Breton. He could be wrong but his instincts were usually spot-on in these things. Most importantly, he found hard to believe that a group with such different people could work together to defeat the mighty dragons, beasts that could pour fire and ice from their mouths and single-handedly defeat dozens of soldiers. They definitely looked like experienced fighters and their multitude of skills could be useful in many situations but this wasn't enough. They'd have to trust and help each other selflessly or their group wouldn't last long. But how could a vampire do that?

Despite all these, Timoster couldn't back off. He felt that it was his destiny to band with these people and defeat the dragons together. It was a noble goal, after all.