[Wyvern]

After a hot meal at the tavern in Ishad N’ha-ha-ha, Missy stopped in at the warrior guild. “I finally found that old warrior you’ve been looking for,” she said.

“Ah, you did, did ye? Well, where is he then?” asked the guildmaster.

“He’s in the next world. I came across his ghost in Shurugeon Castle, and sent him onward.”

“Ya done good,” replied the guildmaster. “’Tis sad news, but his family has wanted to know. Say, now that ye’ve taken care of that, would ye be interested in running another errand for me?”

“Perhaps,” said Missy. “What is it?”

“Ask the Stouts to aid our clan. We can use their help in some of our dealings with the Wizards Guild. Not that we’d ever be defeated by a bunch of long-eared magic freaks, but sometimes they can make it… challenging… Plus, I’ll make it worth yer while.”

“All right, I can do that,” said Missy. “Any new things you can teach me before I go? It’s been a while, you know.”

The guildmaster sized her up. “Yeah, here’s something ye can use. It’s another way of holding yer blade, that ye can do more harm in a fight. It doesn’t do much until ye build up yer arm strength, but I can see ye’ve been working hard with yer blade.”

After an hour’s practice, the guildmaster bade her farewell. “Ya know, I can tell yer getting itchy feet. Ye’ve got that desire for knowledge that marks a true warrior, and I know yer getting’ bored. If ye can just hold on for a little bit longer, I’ve got a special training class that ye’ll be interested in. Just hold off on switching to any new studies until ye get back from the Stout Mines, and I’m sure ye’ll be delighted.”

Missy eyed him. He’d been warming up of late, once he began to realize that she wasn’t like so many of those who came for training, little weasels who trained on mommy and daddy’s gold, pretending they were warriors. He had to deal with them in order to keep the guild open, for their gold paid for supplies as well as anyone else’s did. Better, even; they never really put their weapons to the test, and consequently never knew whether they were good or not.

Besides, she still had to head over to the mines for Scanthril’s little job, and once she finished that, she’d be doing a little job on Scanthril. Payback was a… well, she’d rather not insult a fine worgur like that.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “And be ready; I should be back in a couple of days at most.”

She headed out from Ishad N’ha, heading west toward where the Stout Mines were supposed to be. Along the way, she came across packs of bandits and sneaks, dispatching all without prejudice and spreading her blade throughout the day and evening, practicing the new technique the guildmaster had shown her. Very satisfying; she was able to put the little devils into another world all the more quickly. After each battle, she checked her sword, as she’d been trained, and fixed any minor nicks or cuts in it. “Better to do it little by little than to die lots by lots,” she murmured to herself.

A rustling in the brush gave notice to the arrival of yet another band of rogues – were they truly everywhere? Were they really this annoying? As she dispatched them, she heard more rustling in the bushes down the path. “Come out, you sniveling rats. Either come here and die, or leave and never bother me again.”

The rustling grew louder, but no one came out. Irritated, Missy stalked to the edge of the brush to give them what for when suddenly a blast of poisonous gas hit her in the face!

Gagging, she stepped back, and squinting through her burning eyes, saw something that was not the perfectly sized head of a ratling sneak. Instead, it was large, and green, and round… it was another mantrap! Knowing she had scant moments to act before the overgrown salad did, and knowing that there would likely be another in the offing, she quickly ran in and hacked with her sword, trying to bloody the creature’s mouth, or whatever it was that spit out the poisonous gas.

As the mantrap slowly returned to the earth, Missy began looking around for another one. They always seemed to travel in pairs or more, and she was sure there would be another. She found none, though, and continued nervously, expecting to see another green bulbous head at any time.

She coughed, and realized that the mantrap must have poisoned her somehow. She searched her pack for a cure poison potion, but found none. She turned around to begin the long trip back to Ishad N’ha, when she suddenly remembered why she had sold all the poison-curing potions; she could cast the spell and cure herself now! Casting it, she waited for the pleasant glow of healing to warm her body, and then began heaving again. “Nuts,” she thought. “Oh, waitaminnit – they don’t poison you, they sicken you!” Checking her spell books again, she cast a cure spell on herself, and immediately felt better.

Felt better, that is, until, as she started galloping toward the mines, she burst into a clearing right underneath a huge dragon! The beast was searching for dinner, apparently, and she’d run right under it, a scant dart’s throw away. While Erzebette had told her about the dragon, and while she had seen it flying in the distance, nothing had prepared her for how huge it actually was. From tongue to tail, it easily stretched as long as the archery range back in Ishad N’ha, and then some. Should it decide to land, she was sure it would crush her as easily as she had crushed the roaches in the castle.

In a moment, she was past, back into more bushes. She wasn’t sure if the dragon had seen her, but she was sure it must have heard her, with her chain armor clanking as the horse bounded up and down. No matter; she continued riding, as hard and fast as she could, until she could see the path to the Stout mines in front of her.

As she slowed to a trot, she felt the tingle of magic and heard a noise behind her. Turning, she saw a giant light-colored beast, half-lion, half-eagle, that was apparently upset about her being there. As she approached it with sword drawn, she suddenly felt another tingle of magic. Only this time, Jathil’s tricks did not work, and she felt herself growing cold and dark…

… until the sky shimmered again, and the gods reversed time. She found herself back on the path, just moments from where the flying beast had trapped her. This time, she approached slowly, and was able to trap the beast in the low branches along the trail. Unable to see her clearly, the thing tried to attack with talon and fang, but no use; even hardened bone was no match for enchanted steel.

She finally approached the Stout mines, and giving the writ to the shaft operator, began her decent to find the king of the dwarves. She handed off the clan invitation to one of his lackeys, and then sat down to hear what he had to offer.

He told her of horrid nightmares that he’d had, nightmares that seemed to feature her going to meet the gods in ways she’d rather not think about. He offered to make her a suit of armor to try to protect her, to save her from her fate, and she decided to take him up on it. Perhaps she’d be able to do something about changing fate; in the meantime, she wanted to get back to Ishad N’ha and the training that was waiting for her.

Taking her leave of the dwarven king, she promised to come back and find the dragon ore he wanted. She gathered her sword and spells, and returned to the town.

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Enjoy.

*B*
Minister, etc. (ret.)