《The Child of Obsidian》


 Flesh

    The aberration was getting annoyed. The hard, grey rubble that had before blocked the entrance to the cave was now nothing but rocks scatteredacross the entire floor. He did not anticipate that something, so otherwise reliable, was so pathetic when it came to insects. It lifted a particulary large rock, and watched it disintegrate in the air in front of it. He had no use for tools which fell before something so insignificant as mere cantrips.


    The aberration turned to its ruined lair. The cave, what would have a perfect place to get away from those filthy insects, ordinarily serene had mostly been destroyed. The Oak table it had crafted along with its comfy sleeping spot ablaze. A bipedal insectoid, in a pool of its own blood, lay at his feet. An Umber Hulk, an amusing toy imported from Oghthok in the Underdark. Its attempts to artificially confuse it from within its cage were amusing to no end. Perhaps the most amusing thought from this mess was the irony of the Umber Hulk. In death, it had achieved its goal. The aberration was confused. After it had escaped, the Umber Hulk had no reason to return. Perhaps it was hunting for those insects.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    It didnt matter. It never did when they stopped moving.


    It was going to sleep this off. Today had been busy, and after a nap, he would sort it all out.


    Rip......


    Tear.....


    Eviscerate....


    The aberration dreamt of the umber hulk, its mandibles peeled off, its exoskeleton, torn away. It spoke in a raspy voice, and those confusing eyes now played host to black pits.


    How useless it is in the end.....


    The flesh is weak... the soul is strong..... one is but a dead weight to true power....


    No insect could ever hope to match one who has forsaken his flesh and blood in the pursuit of true power.....


    Tools..... that''s all flesh and blood ever were for the soul......


    Are you a tool......?


    When the aberration awoke, it was not the same.

 The Path Less Followed 1

    A cart trundles down a dirt road, a horse pulling it along, old and tired. The evergreen titans that dot the sides loom overhead, casting long shadows from the unforgiving sun.


    The driver takes a glance at his hooded passengers. One was large and took up half of the cart. Something stook out from his hood, and he seemed generally uneasy. The other two passengers looked far more human. "Well, no one around for miles, and this is a decent journey. Might as well get to know each other." The driver said, turning around to his old stallion.


    The large hooded one froze, and then relaxed. He pulled off his hood to reveal a scaled face, black in colour. The eyes shone yellow, blinking from the sunlight. Putting his hand up to block the sun, the dragonborn said in a voice that had been through far too much, "Uh, hi. My names Dourgan. I take contracts as a hired mercenary."


    The male human form across from him recoiled slightly. "Shit, I thought you were an oversized tiefling!" the man exclaimed. The man pulled back his hood to reveal a handsome man, no more than 20 years old, and yet he still had the scars of a veteran. At his feet was a large polearm with what looked like an axe head on the end of it.


    "And yet I had no delusions on who or what you are, Yorick of Rosenbridge, cleric of Ioun." Dourgan replied. "Your face is all over the wanted boards of Greywall, what the hell did you do?"


    "I said the truth." Yorick replied coldly. He started shifting nervously, but nowhere near as much as the woman beside him.


    In fact, the woman had been shifting nervously ever since the driver had first spoke up. When the driver turned to her, she recoiled away. He sighed, turned back to his horse and said, "The journey ahead is gonna take us 2 days. I got a campsite is usually use when I go through the mountains, I''d say we''d reach it before nightfall." He chuckled. "Can''t say you aren''t the least interesting group I''ve brought through here."Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


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    The cart slowly came to a stop beside a used fire pit. It smoldered slightly, ashes blowing from a gentle breeze. The surrounding area was beautiful. A small water fall caused small rainbows in the evening light, the rockface accompanying it smooth. There were stumps around the fire pit, as if nature wished for this to be a meeting place for her children.


    The occupants hopped off the cart, and silently started doing their business. Dourgan took off his cloak, revealing a huge greatsword. He unsheathed it, laying it on his knee, and started sharpening it. The blade itself had no engravings along it or anything unusual from a normal greatsword, although Dourgan treated it as though it were his child. He had a bandolier across his chest, with knives in every slot.


    Yorick stepped off the cart and set to getting water from the waterfall. When he took off his cloak, it revealed a ornate but sturdy set of plate mail, engravings of Ioun all over.


    The woman sprinted off of the cart, and lay shivering as far away as possible from the stream. When the driver got the fire started, she got but a bit closer.


    The sun was setting, dusk was upon them. The driver turned to his passengers. "Im going to go secure food. Stay here and do not go anywhere." The dragonborn put a hand in front of theit driver. "You aren''t going anywhere, not at your age."


    The old man opened his mouth to protest. "You didn''t notice the chimera watching us by the roadside. I need to deal with it, before it kills one of us in our sleep. This is my job old man." The mouth of protest promptly closed. Dourgan smiled a little at lack of resistance. "If I''m not back in an hour, don''t stay here overnight." The dragonborn turned and strode out into the woods, sniffing the air as he went.

 The Path Less Followed 2

    It wasn''t exactly hard to track a chimera. Dourgan crept through the foliage, finding massive claw marks, burns, and bits of horn in the ground. It was wounded. Something had attacked it. These thoughts went through Dourgans head as he knelt down. He picked up something from the ground and sniffed it. He gave it a lick.


    Chimera dung. He picked up two handfuls of the stuff and went to work rubbing it on his torso and head. He finished his work, and looked up. Nothing had crept up on him. Good. He remembered what Patso had taught him back then.


    A chimera runs on its three heads. You shut one head down, and those subsequent parts stop moving. Yes, that was it. He heard the cracking of trees far to his left. It was on the move again. Moving as silently and quickly as possible, the dragonborn sifted through the mountainous terrain. He stopped suddenly. He hadn''t expected this.


    Even from this distance the dragonborn could see how monstrous it was. He has higher up than it, on a ledge, but in the clearing below was a being with three heads, a goat, a blue dragons, and a lions. It seemed to had been experienced enough to bring down a young wyvern, but it didnt go without a fight. The goat head was vomiting, breathing heavily and was hanging low. Poisoned.


    It had a lions body and a goats rear end, but the biggest problem was the wings. He needed to tie it down or-. A thought came to Dourgan. He smiled. Slowly bending his knees, he unsheathed his sword and looked at his target. Silently, Dourgan leapt from his ledge. Bringing down his greatsword in a vertical strike, whistling through the air he tore through the joint, severing the wing. The greatsword clanged on the ground, sparking against the stone.


    With a great howl the chimera recoiled, backing away from Dourgan. Not missing a beat he sprinted at the beast, throwing knives at the lions head. They both impacted, causing the lion to roar in pain, it swatted with its claw at Dourgan, who rolled out of the way.


    Right into the dragons head.


    The head,bestial fury in its eyes, opened its mouth, and shot out blue shots of electrical energy. The dragonborn shouted from the assault, shaking and smoking. He ran at the chimera, thrusting his sword up the roof of its mouth. The eyes, a mixture of shock and rage, glazed over and stopped moving. He pulled out, only to have the goats head butt him in his abdomen. He flew back 20 feet into a tree, cracking it. "Shit." He thought "Never broke that rib before."


    The chimera dragged along its dead wing and tail, and was having trouble getting to Dourgan. He stood up. "The goat isnt going to be too much of a problem. I bet that was the limit of what it could do." Dourgan thought, a smile on his face.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    He brought up his sword in a standard fighting stance, and then promptly turned tail and ran through the forest. The chimera gave chase, knocking over trees and foliage in its wake, but it was useless, it couldn''t smell the dragonborn. The chimera looked around the area, sniffing the air.


    Hiding behind a nearby tree, Dourgan stayed there. Carefully observing the chimera, he waited for his chance. The lion ripped its dead wing off, and stood defiantly. It roared, and Dourgan reacted. With a speed not any humans could match, he made towards the chimera. As it was finishing its defiant act, Dourgan burst through the undergrowth to strike its exposed neck. The steel tore through the neck, spilling blood everywhere. The roar turned to a gurgle, as the lion fell, dying.


    The goat, lying collapsed on the ground, began bleating. For mercy, to curse him. Who knows. Its rear end flailed usually against the dirt, trying to move all of its dead weight. With a thrust into the eye, the beast had been lain low.


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    Dourgan had filled his satchel with choice pieces of goat. It may have been a monstrosity, but the meat was still good. It was a short way to the camp, that chimera had come far too close for comfort. He made his way back in the direction of camp.


    Something was wrong.


    The camp was completely silent. Night had just fallen, but someone should be keeping watch.


    The driver should know this, especially in the mountains.


    The fire pit was out yet again, ashes blowing in the now strong wind. A figure stood beside the dead fire. Dourgan moved in closer to get a better look. The form seemed to be the woman that was with them earlier. She was without her cloak, and wore simple commoners clothes.


    "You are far too perceptive for your own good dragonborn." She said, her voice unnaturally soft as silk. "Yorick!"


    A rustling came from behind Dourgan, and then a hard kick sent him sprawling into the clearing. Out behind him strode Yorick in his full plate and tabard, halberd in hand. His eyes were glazed over, his stance aggressive.


    "What am I, dragonborn?" She said, sitting on a log.


    "Short or long version?" He growled, turning his head to her. He got up, rolling away from Yorick and stumbling to his feet.


    She laughed. It was unnaturally soothing, and it sent pins and needle down Dourgans spine. "Why don''t you give us the long version, it''ll extend your lifespan."


    "You avoid running water like the plague, you refused contact with direct sunlight, and a travelling companion is ready to kill me on your order. Lesser Vampire." He spat the last part, turning back to Yorick.


    "Good, good. The seasoned warrior knows his quarry. I was thinking of making it an honorable duel, but with that kind of knowledge I wouldn''t expect anything but the best from you. Defend yourself!" She turns to Dourgan, her form slimming down, face extending into a small fanged snout.

 The Path Less Followed 3

    Just slow enough for it to be seen by the naked eye, the vampire rushed at Dourgan. It drew it claws back, flexing its head in a horrid scream. Dourgan rolled to the side, taking some scratches to his back. Not stopping, he ran straight for Yorick, shoulder checkinghim to ground. He brutally kicked the man in the back of the head as he got up, knocking him out.


    Just in time for the Vampire to punch him squarely in the chest.


    Flying back to the other side of camp, he hit the rock face, and slid down. His legs were shaking, his eyes panicked. He spits blood to his side, and levels his greatsword in his right hand. With his other hand, he threw daggers. The first one was caught by the undead, but the other one hit it in the leg.


    Screaming violently, it threw the knife back in a panic, piercingDourganin the shoulder, leaving the other one embedded.


    The leg that held the knife was smoking violently, as well as the hand that had caught the other one. Dourgan laughed and brought his hand up to his forehead. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I forgot they were silver!¡± he cried, putting his hand back to his sword.


    Even though it dragged its leg behind it, the vampire still far outclassed the dragonborn in speed.With a left hook, Dourgan flew again through the camp, landing in the bush.


    On his hands and knees, he starts shaking violently. Breathing heavily, Bleeding heavily, he lowers his form into the dirt, becoming as quiet as possible.


    Something stirred from within him. A slow, raspy voice spoke from within his mind.


    Destroy it¡­..


    Kill it¡­..


    Make it pay¡­..


    Use me, young dragon. It is the only way.


    Dourgan ignored it and observed the vampire making its wayaround camp, sniffing.


    It can hear you breathing, moron. If you die, I die too. Now stop it with the nostalgia you pussy and use me!


    Dourgan sighs heavily, about to get up.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    A sharp pain erupts from the small of his back.Lying down, something had jumped on him. Struggling he saw the driver on his back, kicking his legs and giggling. "Found him mistress!" he squealed, dancing around.


    Something snapped.


    Using his arms to push himself to his feet, he grabbed the Drivers head with one of his hands, and squeezed. The old mans head caved in, he spasmed in death throes, struggling against the hand on his head. He collapsed, dead on the ground.


    Dourgan looked back towards the vampire and its slow approach. Little strands of black emanated from between his scales as he stepped out of the forest, purple emanating greatsword in hand.


    Crouching down, he kicked off the dirt in the ground, speeding toward the vampire in ungodly speed, his pain seemingly forgotten. Shock in its eyes, the vampire lungedback. It was too slow.


    Dourgan ripped his sword along from the vampires waist till its shoulder. Where it touched it eviscerated, sundered. He kicked the lower half away, and grabbed its neck. Screaming from the pain, the vampire tried to hit the dragon born with its fist. It hit Dourgans face, but it didn''t move. It merely laughed in a voice that was not entirely Dourgans.


    "Puny human, struggling against the sands of time. Who did you whore yourself to, to achieve this ''Immortality'' of yours?"


    The vampire pulled its hand back, but before it could strike the arm sailed off into the woods.


    "I wonder...I wonder. Was it the Northern Redanian aristocracy? Or perhaps a freelancer?"


    At the mention of Redania the vampires defiant face fell, before bursting into anger.


    "What are you, a fucking fiend? Let me go!"


    The vampires upper torso struggled, to no avail.


    "Come then ''immortal'' let us be disposed of you." He begins to walk towards the river, vampire in hand. The anger had dissapeared from the vampires face, and all that remained was pure fear.


    "No..No please! I''ll do anything just don''t kil-"


    In a singular motion the torso was flung under the waterfall, as the vampire screamed and squirmed under the running water. The dragonborn merely watched and smiled, beginning to turn.


    "Why do you have your hand to my back cleric?"


    The dragonborn turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of the plated man.


    "Release him."


    The dragonborn merely smiled, putting his hands in the air. "I know what a cleric of Ioun can do. Ill let him go. But before i do, one question?"


    "Ill grant you that."


    "You weren''t really charmed, were you?"


    It was Yoricks turn to smile. "Who knows. Now.. Get out of him!"


    His hand lights up, causing the shadows around Dourgan to dissipate slightly.


    "AAAHHH! Fuck you asshole!I''m leaving I''m leaving!"


    The dragonborn closes his eyes, and the shadows fully dissapear, before the body collapses on the ground.

 Family

    The sun was setting over the horizon, ending the long day in the Manor. The Lady of the house was at her sink in the kitchen, looking wistfully out the window at the setting sun as she washed plates. Her bronze scales relaxed as she pulled out the clean plate and put it out to dry. She turned to the rest of the room, with a careful glance at the great sword hanging over the fireplace. She could never pinpoint it, but something was wrong with that blade.


    It just made her scales crawl.


    She drained the bucket of water outside of the house, all the residue cleaned from the plates and dumped outside. She heard her youngling behind her, playing with the bow his father had made him. He jumped up and down, firing the pretend arrows. He ran past the lady, knocking into the cupboard. The glass bauble on top wiggled, before falling. The lady snapped her hand forward, catching it. She sighed, and looked down at the boy.


    Walking towards the child, she chastised him. ¡°You know your father said you could only use that outside youngling.¡±


    The child looked visibly upset, his bronze scales tensing up. ¡°I¡­I know. I just want to be a cool hunter like him!¡± He made motions of firing his bow again, before it was snatched away. ¡°You''ll get his back tomorrow young one, now it''s time for bed.¡±


    ¡°But the sun isn¡¯t even down yet mama!¡± the little dragonborn chirped, rubbing his eyes. The mother narrowed her eyes at her child. ¡°You¡¯re now enough winters old enough to know that at this time of year the sun sets later! Come now, off upstairs with you.¡± Groaning, the child dragged his feet up the stairs.


    She watched him go all the way up, and gave a smile. Still so innocent.


    She felt something dark rub against her back,making her shiver. Instinctively, the lady of the house turned to the great sword.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Engravings ran all along the edge. Flames, Hammers, The occasional dragon head. This was the generational sword of the Bronze dragonborn, why was it so¡­ ominous.


    She heard a knock at the door. Snapping back into reality, she turned her head.


    She walked over to the door, inching it open. Two males were outside, one an elf, the other a stocky man. She couldn¡¯t see the elf too clearly like this, but the dwarf had a hat he was wringing in his hands. He had solemn face, which turned to stone when she fully opened the door.


    ¡°Lady Scalebreaker?¡± he asked, he hands behind his back in a formal military stance, easily recognised.


    ¡°Yes..?¡± she said, realisation dawning. ¡°Is this about my husband?¡±


    The elf pulled out a red letter from an envelope, his voice cracking as he read out the words. He held the letter closer to the door sconce, the sun having fully set.


    ¡°The condolences of the Divine emperor go to Lady Falia and her son Dourgan."''his face was getting less and less composed as he continued. "We are sorry to say that the lord of Far Reach manor, Torinn Scalebreaker, has fallen in battle against the forces of Devils.¡± He hands the letter to the lady.


    She read through it, face getting darker and darker as she read it. The greatsword in the back starting glowing stronger and stronger. She looked up, a mixture of rage and grief behind a wall of stone. "How did he die?"


    The dwarf lowered his head further. His hands tensed up and he broke eye contact. "He was a man possessed my lady. Fought a pit fiend in single combat to save my life. They... they took his body back to the nine hells. I must tell you this, upon my honor as a warrior, and to personally inform you that Torinn died a hero to his country and his men."


    A single tear rolled down his face, as he made eye contact with the lady, composing himself. "No apologies can make up for the death of a childs father and a ladies husband, so I offer none. If Dourgan or you ever need help, I will be there. Just ask the peacekeeper where Patso is." He salutes, and turns on his heels, head down.


    The elf follows suite, leaving the lady in the dark night, with a cold breeze blowing through the door.

 Welcome to Rosenbridge

    The sun rose against the walls of Rosenbridge, the light spilling over the white bricks into the town beyond. The massive gate , shining against the sun, lay closed to the town. Two men stood before it, in blue tabards and steel plate. They leaned against their halberds, it had been a long shift.


    A wagon approached the grand entrance, and one of the guards awoke. His head snapped up, his head taking in breath.


    "Ah shit. Riclamin!" He nudged the man beside him, who elbowed him back


    "Mmmmmm..... what?"


    "We got a wagon coming in." He nudged him again, harder this time. "Get up you fucking slacker!"


    "Fine...fine!" He lifts his head, squinting against the morning light. He raises his hand, hailing the wooden transport.


    "Halt! Name your cargo and purpose!"


    The driver came into full view. He wore full plate, with a tabard on his front and a halberd to his side.


    Riclamin turned to his compatriot and patted his backSupport the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "Huh... no need for concern then. It''s Yorick."


    He gave a smile, waving the wagon over. The wagon bumped against the holes in the ground, the driver and his contents shaking.


    Yorick waved to the pair, jumping off the seat. He led the old horse behind him, shaking the hand of the guard.


    "How''s the watch treating you Therai? You get that promotion yet?"


    Therai smiled, flashing a metal pauldron emblazoned with a lion with the head of an eagle


    Yorick eyes widened. "Sergeant? I didn''t think you''d hit that until next year! Nice one!."


    He gestures towards the wagon behind him.


    "I got some cargo this time. Bigger than usual."


    "Oh yeah. I remember now. You''re part of that merc group run by that halfling, right?" Riclamin said, walking around the side of the wagon, glancing at the canopy.


    "Yeah. I got myself a recruit in there. Quiet now, he hasnt had much sleep."


    "Holy shit! You got yourself a fucking lizard man! How the fuck did you do that?"


    Yorick shrugs, mounting the wagon " Pure charisma, obviously. Therins been waiting long enough anyway. Let us through Riclamin."


    Riclamin sighs. He turns to the gate, shouting to the top of the wall. "Open her up!"


    The gates creak and moan and they are pulled up, chains struggling to lift the behemoth. "Go on through Yorick, although you''re the first caravan we''ve seen for a while."


    "Really? I''ll have to ask Therin about that. Thanks lads, try not to sleep too much"


    Yorick spurs the horse on, the hooves now striking against paved stone. In the back of the cart, the cargo was moving.

 The Rosenbridge Dragoons 1

    The inside of the cart was stuffy. Animal skins and cabbages lined the floor, with the occasional seat here and there. Perhaps the thing that completed the stuffiness was the Dragonborn on the floor.


    His eyes suddenly squinted, as he slowly raised his head and took in his surroundings. He could hear the clopping of hooves, shouting and running, water being thrown. He turned his head back towards the driver. Yorick was sitting at the front, waving at a few people as a he spurred the old horse on.


    He looked back at the stirring form behind him.


    "Awake are we? Thats good. I''d hate to show you to my boss as a ragdoll."


    The dragonborn sat up, clutching at his head. "Where are we?"


    "Rosenbridge. Great Bulwark of the North, The City of the White Shield, Th-"


    "Yeah. Yeah ok I get it." Dourgan stated, standing up and poking his head out of the cart. The Walls loomed over the tallest of the houses, casting huge shadows over the whole of the city. The streets were paved with grey rock, and Dourgan could see children chasing after each other under the great white walls.


    "I had heard stories of the White Wall but I never thought-"


    "They''d be so big? Yeah... that''s a lot of peoples reactions. Turns out decades of devil incursions will do that to people." Yorick turns back to driving. "Comon and sit up here big guy. Cant have you hiding from everyone."Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Tripping over cabbages and skins the dragonborn made his way to the seat beside the cleric.


    "Where are you taking me anyway? To see your boss?"


    Yorick smiled. "Yeah. You did a number on that vampire. Do you know why I have such a large bounty on my head?"


    "I assumed you killed a local lord and then bedded his entire family."


    "Well... no that''s not what happened. It was actually a recruitment scheme. It turns out if you have a large enough bounty, it''ll scare off all of the small fry, and then only the hardened veterans will be after your head."


    "How is that a recruitment scheme? And what if you died?"


    "Well it wasn''t my idea. My boss just seemed to think it would be good for recruitment. And I haven''t died yet."


    He looks up at the dragonborn. "We''ll be there soon. Don''t worry."


    People passing by had mixed reactions. Young boys stopped playing and came to ask him questions.


    "Do you breath fire?"


    "Well... I used to?"


    "Do you kidnap princesses?"


    "Wha-.. No!"


    "Can you swing that big sword!"


    "Yep."


    "Wow!"


    The adults eventually pulled the boys away, less than discreetly hiding their anxiety and fear at seeing Dourgan.


    "Ah shit."


    Yorick jumped off the cart and stopped outside the door. He listened in to it before looking around.


    "Dourgan! Come here!" he whispered.


    The dragonborn looked confused before he jumped off the cart and walked in front of the door.


    "What''s wrong?" The door looked perfectly fine.


    "Kick the door down." he whispered back to him, gesturing towards the door.


    "What?"


    "Just do it!"


    The dragonborn sighed before raising his leg. He drove his foot forward, driving the door off of its hinges.


    Yorick rushed in, halberd at the ready.


    "Oh for fucks sake Maldo."


    A man with silver hair wiped a cloth along his longsword, standing amidst three corpses. He was a adorned with a breastplate and lazily looked up at Yorick.


    "You''re late."

 The Rosenbridge Dragoons 2

    The man finishes wiping his sword and puts the cloth in his back pocket.


    "Why are you late this time? Gnomish Ambush?" He looks unnamusedly at Yorick. "Or perhaps it was the baby dragon?"


    "Not quite a dragon, but not quite a baby. Dourgan, if you would." he gestures for Dourgan to come in.


    He looked down at the corpses, and then Maldo.


    "What happened here?" Dourgan asks, his scales retracting.


    "Xanders men." Maldo says, sheathing his sword. "He thinks himself the king of the city and my organisation likes the current administration. That doesn''t answer my question though. Why are you late? You were supposed to... oh. Really, a chromatic?"


    "Yep. His ability to kill things is rather potent. He took on a chimera, and then a lesser vampire."


    "Shit.. really?"The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Dourgan kept looking between the two, eyes growing wider by the second.


    "Hold on!" he says, panic in his voice, "Who are you? And what do you want from me?"


    Maldo looks him in the eye, before walking around him, looking from every angle.


    "You only started using that greatsword, haven''t you?"


    Dourgan tenses up, his limbs locking.


    "Yeah I thought so. You don''t carry yourself like someone who does, and.." he taps Dourgans forearm "you aren''t really strong enough. How do you swing that thing?"


    Maldo walks behind Dourgan, looking at the sword. He slwoly touches it, before recoiling in pain.


    "Ow.. Shit. I see now. Interesting." He comes around to the front of Dourgan, looking into his eyes.


    "I have a need for mercenaries, and you have a need for work. How would you like to join the Rosenbridge Dragoons?"


    Dourgan looks at the man, before pondering the question.


    "What''s the pay?"


    "Depends on the job."


    "What are the jobs?"


    "Guarding and killing things."


    "Deal."


    Maldo extends his arm out, waiting for the handshake. Dourgan takes it, and although his hand dwarves the smaller man hand, he could feel the strength in Maldos hand almost crush his bones.


    "When do I start?"


    "Effective immediately. Ill get you signed up at headquarters and you can meet the rest." He walks to the door, gesturing outside. "Well. I dont have all day, and neither does Xander. Let''s get you signed on Warrior."

 The Rosenbridge Dragoons 3

    Leading the trio through the streets, Maldo kept a swift pace. He moved through the crowd in an odd fashion. He seemed to simultaneously part the crowd and go unnoticed.


    "So Dourgan. What''s your experience?"


    "What?"


    "How good are you for killing things? A lesser vampire is the benchmark of my business, and a chimera is but a pest."


    "I mostly just took what work I could. Manual labour, minor nuisances, the occasional warlord, that kind of stuff."


    "Ah. So you were the one who offed the Herald of Ash."


    "..." Dourgan stopped in the middle of the street. "How did...?"


    "Not many people could have stabbed the fucker in the chest and got away with it, and the only reports were of a flash of black. You aren''t lying either... awfully sorry.." Maldo nudged Dourgan to the side as an old couple walked by.


    "I can tell. Aha. Here we are." He stopped in front of an unassuming building on the corner of the street.


    Gesturing the other two to follow, he opened the door.


    The interior was a far different story than the exterior. A grand carpet in the center gave way to a great table, carved with the map of the city. Little tokens lay upon certain districts of the city, and there was room to expand.


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!Shouting and the clanging of metal resounded from within, and the scent was of a pleasent spice.


    "This is our home. Although it may be a bit more comfortable than necessary, it functions as our base of operations. A tour will be needed later, right now we hav-... Matthew. Leave this for later.


    "Yes sir." said a chilling voice. "It has to happen. You know this...."


    "i know. Later though."


    Dourgan looked up at a figure in the corner, and narrowed his eyes. The figure was in dark leathers, leaning up against the wall. The dragonborn blinked, ad then he was gone.


    "Who was that?"


    "A nuisance. Ignore that for now though, I need you to start work now." Maldo walked over to the table, before fiddling with the tokens on the table. "Right. Head to the docks, talk to Taranis. He''ll fill you in on the situation down there. You on the other hand." He pointed to the cleric. "Stay here. We need to talk strategy."


    Dourgan stared at the corner for a bit, nodded and then opened the door, returning to the streets.