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“Lyrah! Problem!”

Lyrah sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d only just sat down into her padded, leather recliner in her private room. She fixed hazel eyes on the wooden mug of sweet, dark ale waiting to be downed. Lyrah scowled and glanced at her friend Trina, peeking through the oak door. “What kind of problem?”

“The kind that’s big, furry, snarls a lot…” Trina glanced behind herself, red hair swishing around her face. “And gets really grope-happy when it’s had too much to drink.”

Lyrah sighed and reached for her drink. Figures. “So one of the gnolls is copping a feel again?” Lyrah took a long drink, savored the sweet, warming flavor of the strong ale, then wiped her mouth with her hand. “Just knee him in the balls.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work this time.”

Lyrah grinned, leaning back in her chair. “Oh it works, alright. Trust me, they may look big and scary but even gnolls go down when you knee them in the balls. This is the voice of experience speaking.”

Trina’s voice grew flustered. “This gnoll doesn’t have any balls! Will you just get out here?”

Lyrah huffed and pressed her face into her hands. Damn tavern was getting to be more work every day. She rubbed her face, groaning, and then pushed herself to her feet. Maybe someday she’d get to enjoy a drink in peace. Lyrah went to the door and peered through the crack at Trina. “I don’t see any gnoll harassing you.”

“It’s not me.” Trina hissed her words through grit teeth. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s that female gnoll. She’s drunk as hell and she’s got poor Conrad cornered.”

“Really?” Lyrah grinned, drumming her fingers on the doorframe. “That actually sounds entertaining.”

“It was, at first.” Trina laughed a little, her cheeks reddening. “But it won’t be if she carries him off to her bed and breaks his pelvis. Then who’s going to cook for the evening shift?”

“Alright, alright.”

Lyrah unlatched the chain for the door to her private meeting room, then pulled it open. She followed Trina down the short hallway, the sounds of loud conversation and raucous laughter rising as they neared the main room. The scents of roasted boar and venison mingled with the aromas of pipe smoke, bittersweet ales and rich wines. Though the hour was late enough that her tavern wasn’t packed, those who remained spoke and laughed with voices loudened by drink.

Lyrah paused at the entrance to the tavern’s spacious dining hall. She gazed around the place, smiling. Years later and it was still hard to believe she’d actually gone through it. Quite the gamble, building a tavern so far from the nearest village. Let alone one that catered to…

“See?” Trina nudged Lyrah and pointed towards the long spruce countertop that hemmed in the bar area. “Do something before she injures the poor boy.”

Lyrah grumbled under her breath as she strode across the room. Maybe she should have just built herself a private club, instead.

The main room of Lyrah’s tavern was spacious and oval shaped. Along one wall lay a long, polished spruce countertop lined with padded stools. A few semi-private booths with soft benches nestled within wooden alcoves sat along another wall. White and black stonework depicted a stylized dragon stalking the far end of the room, with larger of the tavern’s two hearths built in the dragon’s mouth. Arched cross-beams spanned the high ceiling, with runes and signs in several primitive languages carved into them. Banners, emblems and flags from Lyrah’s travels around the land hung from some of beams. Sections of wall also bore trophies from her adventures. There were exotic animal hides, pieces of broken armor, unusual weapons, an immense set of claws, a necklace made of some poor beast’s teeth, teeth, a monstrous gray horn carved with ancient sigils, and so on.

Most of her clients left this late at night were non-human. That was fine with Lyrah, some of her employees were non-human too. A hefty minotaur sat by himself nursing an immense mug of ale. A couple of scaly lizardfolk sat around a table, feasting on an entire roast boar. A small group of gnolls chattered and yelled at each other in a booth. What looked like an entire clan of little horned, dog-rat urd’thin clustered around a group of tables, sharing food of communal platters.

They were the dregs of the world. The sort of creatures more encountered by unlucky travelers on isolated roads, or treasure-hungry adventurers roaming a swamp than by the civilized peoples of the world. Where most human settlements would chase such creatures off, Lyrah invited them in. Where most adventure-seekers would gleefully murder them and claim whatever bounties might lay upon their heads, Lyrah gave them a place to feel safe, and welcome. Lyrah gave them a way to live, a way to survive beyond robbery and raiding and bloodshed. In so doing, Lyrah had earned their loyalty and their friendship.

Didn’t mean they didn’t cause her a hell of a lot of trouble on a daily basis.

“Get your clawed feet off the table!” Lyrah slapped one of the lizard folk on the back of his scaly, spiny head. He jumped in surprise, hissed, but when he saw who it was, pulled his green-scaled feet from the table and muttered an apology.

Lyrah turned her attention to the female gnoll who’d cornered her cook. Like most of her kin, her powerfully built body was covered in layers of beige and brown fur, mottled with black splotches. She was a little taller than most of the males, though her body was just a little leaner and more graceful than theirs. Her muzzle was also a little more slender than a male’s. A ruff of thicker fur ran between her ears, and down the back of her neck. Piercings and metal studs lined her pointed, canine-like ears. Old, battered leather armor covered her upper body, with a pair of black breeches that only went to her knees. Like many of Lyrah’s non-human patrons, her legs resembled the form of a canine’s hind legs as much as those of a human. She was at least a foot taller than the human man in the black apron she’d backed up against the bar.

Lyrah recognized her right away. Her name was…well, Lyrah could never pronounce her name properly. The first part of it sounded like Toth, so that was what she called her. Toth never seemed to mind. She hired the gnoll now and then to protect her deliveries, and to do simple labor that required a lot of strength. Though Toth didn’t know the first thing about architecture or engineering, she’d proved a very capable worker when given specific instructions. She’d also proven a very capable drinker. And apparently, an equal opportunity groper.

As Lyrah approached, Toth pushed her body up against Conrad, Lyrah’s cook. Even though she had him pushed back against the bar, she managed to get her arms around him. Judging by the way Conrad yelped and tried to squirm away, she must have been pinching his butt awfully hard. Toth just laughed at his squirming, a sort of harsh, barking sound that probably wasn’t winning her any romantic points with Conrad.

“Looks like you’re having fun, Conrad.” Lyrah leaned against the bar, grinning.

“Oh, Lyrah!” Conrad twisted against Toth, trying to duck under her encircling arm. Conrad’s face was as bright red as she’d ever seen it. Lyrah didn’t think the man was a prude, but being propositioned by a drunken gnoll could embarrass anyone. “Thank the Gods. Get me out of this mess!”

“Oh, she just wants a little fun, Conrad.” Lyrah couldn’t help laughing. “Funny, but I don’t recall you raising a protest on Trina’s behalf when it was the male gnoll who was groping her.”

“That’s just because I knew you’d take care of it.” Conrad’s rounded face twisted up in a grimace, and he swatted at Toth’s shoulder. “Ow! Not so hard! I’m not a gnoll!”

“Yeah, you nice and soft.” Toth’s voice was a rumbling growl that Lyrah knew among gnolls was meant as an amorous purr. Among humans, it sounded more like an open threat. She stroked his hair then slid her hand down his arm. “I like soft.”

Lyrah reached out and gently laid her own hand upon Toth’s arm. “That’s enough, Toth. You’ve had a few too many, I think.” She glanced over at Toth’s usual seat on the bar, counting at least a dozen empty mugs. “More than a few, perhaps. Probably about time for you to go for the night.”

“Arright, arright.” Toth’s words slurred, and she backed away from Conrad. “I go now.” She snatched up Conrad’s hand, and took a few steps, dragging him with her despite his yelping protests. “We go to bed now.”

Conrad tugged back against her arm to no available. “No! We do not go to bed now!”

Laughing, Lyrah slipped around to stand in front of Toth. She put a hand against the gnoll’s armored body. “Now, Toth, I can’t let you take Conrad with you if he’s not willing to go.”

Toth pinned her ears back, then turned her head to glare at Conrad. “What wrong with me?”

The crimson blush drained from Conrad’s face in an instant, his brown eyes widened as he stumbled across his words. “N-nothing! Nothing’s wrong! It’s just…well…I like…women?”

Toth snarled, yanking Conrad up against her body. “Tothraaleg is female! What you saying?”

“Aaah!” Conrad practically squealed as Toth started trying to put his hand somewhere it didn’t seem want to go. “Yes, I know! I meant…human women! We’re not even the same species, Toth!”

Toth blinked, tilted her head, and flicked an ear back. “So? Mating works same, yes? Toth want try out soft squishy human.”

“Then you’re going to have to find a willing partner, Toth.” Lyrah put her hand atop Toth’s, waving the other hand towards the group of male gnolls too busy stuffing their muzzles with food to pay attention to anything else. “One of them, perhaps.”

Toth snorted, scrunching her snout. “They no good at sex. Gnoll males just want hump and be done.”

Lyrah pried one of Toth’s fingers away from Conrad while the gnoll was distracted. “Well, how about…ah…Vaargel, then?” She gestured towards her lizardfolk friend, a male with green scales dusted with bronze. “I’m sure he’d be adventurous enough to give you a try.”

Vaargel flicked back all the little spiny frills adorning his head scaly head. He scrunched his muzzle, the bronze flecks shining in the lamplight. “Oh no. Leave me out of this.”

“Lizard?” Toth gazed at Vaargel a moment, tilting her head. She perked an ear. “No. Toth want lay with something soft and squishy when finished. Lizard look hard everywhere but where it count.”

“Hey!” Vaargel shot to his feet, snarling. “What’d you say, Gnoll?”

“You hear me!” Toth snapped right back at the lizard. “Probably small, too!”

“I oughta punch that ugly, lopsided grin right offa’yer snout, you mangy mutt!”

Toth tossed Conrad aside like a toy she no longer wanted to play with. He yelled and stumbled into an empty table as Toth advanced on the lizard. Her fur bristled, her fangs bared. “Toth gonna beat you with own tail! See if it grow back!”

Lyrah moved to insert herself between the two creatures before things got worse. She had rules about brawls and fights in her bar. No weapons allowed, and when the fight was over so was whatever grudge had started it. Any fighting also had to be supervised and the fighters had to stop when asked by Lyrah or her staff. If they were both sober, she’d let them go outside and punch each other till they weren’t angry anymore. But with that much drink in Toth, Lyrah feared one of them might get seriously injured if she let them brawl.

“Time go to home, Toth!” Lyrah pushed against Toth’s leather-armored body. Felt like she trying to move an old tree. She glanced back at Vaargel, black hair swishing around her face. “And you, let it go Vaargel, she’s drunk.”

“Lucky her.” Vaargel snapped his sharp teeth, then flared his red-tinged frills around his scaly head. “If I was that ugly, I’d have to get drunk to think anyone wanted mate with me, too!”

Toth bellowed and surged forward against Lyrah, balling up her fists. Lyrah backpedaled a few quick steps, and when Toth took a swing at the lizard, Lyrah was ready. With the gnoll throwing her drunken weight behind the punch and the lizard easily scrambling out of the way, Lyrah used Toth’s momentum against her. In one swift, smooth motion she’d tripped the gnoll up at the apex of her swing, and sent her sprawling to the floor. Toth groaned as she landed face down on the wooden floor. Lyrah dropped her knee into the gnoll’s back in an instant, snatching up one of her arms. She grabbed one of Toth’s wrists in both hands, twisting her arm up behind her back till Toth cried out in pain, wriggling against the floor.

“Now, Toth, you know I hate doing this.” Lyrah leaned forward, adding a little more pressure. “But you’re not giving me much choice. It’s time for you to go for the night. You can come back when you’re sober. Alright?”

Toth muttered something incomprehensible, squirming beneath Lyrah.

“I’ll let you up when you agree to behave yourself, and then I’m going to escort you out. Understand?”

Toth growled and snapped her jaws, but nodded.

“Good.” Lyrah moved one hand from Toth’s wrist up to grasp one of the gnoll’s ears. She’d learned ages back that their ears were very sensitive. Especially ears filled with piercings. She twisted Toth’s ear just a little and even that wrenched a high-pitched yelp from the bigger creature. “Now, I’m going to keep hold of your ear, and if you try anything, all these earrings are coming out at once. Got it?”

“No!” Toth whined, some of the angry tension draining from her body. “Yes! Don’t do that!”

Lyrah smiled, easing her knee from Toth’s back. She began to rise, guiding the gnoll to do the same. “Last thing in the world I want to do to you, Toth. Just got to make sure you behave yourself on the way out, that’s all.”

Once Lyrah was on her feet, she kept her grip on both Toth’s wrist and ear. She made Toth hunch over to keep the pressure off, which caused the gnoll’s steps to be slow and awkward. Toth yipped and whimpered every few paces, but Lyrah did not relent. Everyone got stubborn when they were drunk, and gnolls were twice as bad and twice as dangerous. No sense taking risks for anyone, Toth included. Lyrah didn’t want the gnoll to do anything that might really get her hurt.

When they neared the front doors, Trina ran forward and opened them. Lyrah escorted Toth down the front steps and out onto the wide, grassy area alongside the road that ran through the forest her tavern was located in. Trina, Conrad and Vaargel followed her down the steps, and stopped there as Lyrah walked Toth to the road. Once they neared the road, Lyrah let Toth go with just enough of a push to send the gnoll stumbling away in case Toth felt like whirling around for a surprise attack. Toth took a few faltering steps, then turned around to growl at Lyrah, her ears back and eyes narrowed.

“Go home, Toth.” Lyrah waggled a finger at her. Toth took a step towards her, baring her fangs. Lyrah stood her ground, hardening her voice. “Don’t do it, Toth. If you make me put you down again you’re not going to like it. Don’t make me hurt a friend, now. Go sleep it off.”

Toth glared at Lyrah a moment longer, then muttered something in the gnoll tongue Lyrah was glad she couldn’t understand. Toth turned and walked down the road, stumbling occasionally. Lyrah watched her until she was out of sight, then turned back towards the trio standing behind her. She rolled her eyes at Conrad, then glared at Trina and Vaargel.

“A lot of help you two were.” She glanced back and forth between the red-headed woman and the green and bronze scaled lizard. “What am I even paying you two for?”

Trina smirked, dusting off the blue sleeves of her blouse. “My friendly demeanor. And my immaculate knowledge of all things alcoholic.”

“Fair point.” Lyrah turned her hazel gaze onto Vaargel. “And you?”

“My striking good looks and marvelous strength?”

Conrad folded his arms over his apron. “If your looks were that striking, Lizard, then you’d be the one Toth was after instead of me.”

Vaargel gave a playful snarl. He poked Conrad in his rounded belly. “She only wanted you cause you’re squishy.”

Conrad batted his scaly hand away. “It’s not my fault if a cook has to sample his own food to ensure its quality.” He grinned, a hint of a blush returning to his cheeks. “Still. First time I’ve ever been paid that sort of attention by a gnoll.”

“Consider yourself lucky.” Trina laughed, holding the door open for the others.

“It’s the soft bodies, and the lack of fur.” Lyrah followed the others inside. “Sort of fascinates them, I think. And it’s not like they’re used to trying to act civilized.”

“And how would you know?” Conrad went back behind the bar to start washing up Toth’s empty mugs. Then his eyes widened, and he grinned at Lyrah. “Have you…with a gnoll?”

“A gnoll?” Lyrah only smirked. “…Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Conrad stared at her, confusion and disbelief twisting across his face. Lyrah grinned. Let him wonder. It was more fun that way.

“You should have done it, Conrad.” Vaargel settled back into his stool, grinning.

“Yeah, Conrad.” Trina laughed, leaning against the bar. “How many chances you gonna get like that?”

Conrad snorted, wiping the bar with a towel. “Very funny. I don’t see you leaping at the chance to take a gnoll into your bed.”

“I don’t leap at the chance to taken any drunken lout into my bed.” Trina waved her hand, smirking. “Besides, you heard Toth. Apparently they’re all eagerness and no effort. Doesn’t sound like much fun even before you consider the bristly fur, and the teeth, and the breath.”

Vaargel snorted, clicking his sharp teeth. “They do have big tongues, though. Bet you human females would appreciate that.”

“Shut it, you dirty lizard!” Trina picked up a bar towel and snapped at it him. Vaargel yelped, covering his face with a hand as tiny droplets splattered his scales. “It’s not like you’d be any quicker to jump in bed with a human woman.”

Vaargel wiped his face, smirking. He flicked his crimson-edged frills up. “Says who?”

Conrad and Trina both stared at him a moment.

“Don’t you three have jobs to do?” Lyrah spoke up before either of them could question him further. He tried to sound stern, but she found herself laughing instead. “Take care of the customers, close up the bar, and then you can all gossip about which of the world’s many varied peoples you’d be most likely to bed.”

“And where do you think you’re going?” Trina turned towards Lyrah, folding her arms.

“Back to my room, to finish my ale.”

“Oh, of course!” Trina made a show of waving her towel around. “Typical wealthy tavern owner, making her staff do all the work while she enjoys the spoils.”

“Keep it up, and next time you get to save Conrad.”

Trina made a rude noise. “Fine, I’ll just let Toth have her fun next time.”

Lyrah laughed and shook her head as she made her way back towards her private quarters. She loved this place, but there was more trouble to deal with every day. At this rate, she really needed to get herself a bouncer.

*****

Is this what you want for your life? Stomping through the filth, with no thought given to others? No concern for the blood you spill, from those who are different? Is this where you want your life to end? Lying here, bleeding in the mud, choking on the smoke of the flames you set?

You could be better than that…if you let yourself…

*****

“Lyrah! Problem!”

Lyrah blinked awake to smothering darkness, warmth, and a throbbing pain in her head. She pulled the thick, down-stuffed blue blanket away from her face. Fresh air felt like ice against booze-flushed cheeks. The dim light stabbed at her eyes. She groaned, and pressed her palm to her foreheads. Gods. How much did she drink? She sat up against her gray and blue pillows, her bedroom twisted around her.

“Lyrah…” Trina’s voice was muffled by the closed door.

“I heard you.” Lyrah’s stomach lurched. She took a deep breath, waiting for it to calm. “Can’t you deal with the gnolls yourself this time?”

Trina cracked the door open. Silhouetted against the harsh light, Trina’s voice looked drawn and pale. Her voice shook a little as urgency pressed her words together. “It’s not that kind of problem, Lyrah.”

Lyrah sat up a little straight, concern tugged away some of her hang over. “What kind of problem is it?”

Trina swallowed, turning the door knob back and forth. “The kind with scales, wings, and a host of unreasonable demands.”

“Shit.”

“That about sums it up, yes.” Trina opened the door. “You should come out front as soon as you can.”

“Has it hurt anyone?” Lyrah ran her hand down her face. God. First gnoll problems, now a dragon.

“Not yet.” Trina glanced back over her shoulder, scowling. “But he’s out there parading himself around, threatening to burn down the tavern if he doesn’t get what he wants. He wants to know who owns the place.”

“Get everyone outside, keep him busy, if you can, and make sure no one insults him.” Lyrah threw the blankets, and swung her legs over the bed. She rose to her feet, wobbling. Pain pulsed in her head. “Gods, what a day for a hangover.”

“Do you need any help?” Trina glanced towards Lyrah’s closet and took a half step into the room. “You’ve still got your armor, right? I can help you get into it…”

Lyrah scowled, and took a few stumbling steps towards her closet. “No, Trina, that’s alright. Pour me a drink, though, and leave it on the counter. Go keep the old lizard busy till I get out there to deal with him.”

Trina nodded a few times. She twined her fingers around the hilt of the knife strapped around her waist. Her knuckles stood out white. “Alright, Lyrah, if you think that’s best.”

Lyrah crossed her messy bedroom, stepped over a pile of clothes, and laid her hand against Trina’s. “Everything will be alright.” She gently pried Trina’s fingers away from the hilt of her blade. “Let’s keep that in its sheath, shall we? I’ll take care of this, Trina, you just make sure everyone stays calm, and safe, alright? Just…act as though you’re in awe of him, and that should sate his ego until I get out there.”

Trina swallowed again, easing her fingers away from her blade. Her green eyes flickered with fear. “Have you ever…fought one, before? A dragon, I mean…”

Lyrah grit her teeth, but gave Trina a smile. She lifted her hand and squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “Just go outside, Trina. I’ll be out soon. Make sure no one does anything stupid, alright?”

Trina retreated, and eased the door shut behind her. Lyrah turned around, and leaned her back against the oak frame. She took a deep breath, held it till her lungs burned and the pounding in her head grew frantic and sharp. She heaved a long sigh, rubbing her forehead. She’d dealt with a lot of trouble since she first built her tavern, and made it open and welcoming to all. But she’d never had to deal with a dragon. One thing was certain, though. She wasn’t going to let some scaly bastard burn down all her hard work.

Lyrah glanced around her room. She really needed to clean it up one of these days. There were clothes on the floor waiting to be washed and empty bottles waiting to be scrubbed and filled anew. A bookshelf overstuffed with tomes both worthless and valuable loomed over another pile of books she’d started reading but never finished. Never enough time to finish her reading, let alone to spend a day tidying up.

Her walls were adorned with colorful tapestries procured in far-away lands, and paintings of serene forests and mountains. A framed map depicted much of the known world. Colorful lines and symbols marked her extensive travels. A mahogany display case with glass panels held a few trophies, treasures and weapons taken from vanquished foes. Lyrah walked to her display case and brushed her hand against the glass. For all her successes in her adventuring days, she didn’t have that much treasure left. Most of it had been spent on building this place, her little effort to make the world just a little bit better. A bid to balance the misery she once caused and the greed she once pursued with something better.

Lyrah sighed again, and walked around her bed to her closet. She eased the doors open to make sure nothing tumbled out and smashed her on the head. The closet was ostensibly a walk-in with as much room as her bedroom, but it was so filled with old chests and crates and items gathered from a young life spend wandering the world in search of adventure and treasure that there was little more than a narrow lane for her to squeeze into.

Lyrah made her way to the back of the closet, nudging aside pair of black leather boots, still splattered with dry mud and droplets of blood. She picked up a particular thick book and set it atop a wobbling tower of stacked crates. A few leather scroll-cases filled with maps toppled to the floor, and she stuffed them into a half empty chest.

At the very back of the closet, kept out of sight, were her old sets of armor and her weapons. Been a long time since she’d had the need or desire to wear and wield them. She glanced at her own black leather gear studded with silver spikes. She also had custom-fitted plate armor, not that she could get into it without assistance. Never liked the stuff anyway. Besides, something told her a dragon’s claws and teeth would punch through metal plates almost as easily as leather. Besides, back in her younger days she’d worn padding and a light shirt of chain mail more than anything else. It provided decent enough protection from various monsters and beasts and their primitive weapons, and did not compromise her mobility. Lyrah had always been the sort of combatant who favored agility and speed over strength and armor. For a moment she considered putting her chain mail on, but tossed the idea aside. She hardly had the time to put it on. Besides, if the dragon caught her with a direct blow from his claws or teeth, let alone his fire, chain mail wasn’t going to help her get back up.

Agility and speed it was, then. Lyrah just hoped her years spent running a bar and enjoying her own products hadn’t slowed her reflexes down too much. She stripped off her rumpled clothes, and dressed in a clean pair of black breeches, and a dark green tunic with long sleeves, and golden threading.

There was one thing she’d take with her to the dragon, though. She picked up a rolled up brown leather cloak on the floor, and carefully unrolled it. Inside was her old sword in its leather scabbard. She hadn’t used it in years, but she took it out now and then just to care for it. She polished it and oiled it, and kept it in good shape out of habit, and spend a day or so practicing with it at least once a week to keep herself ready. But she always tucked it away again between training sessions.

She didn’t like having to see the thing most days. It had been a long time she’d she unwrapped it with intentions to actually use it. Any pride she’d once felt at the blood the blade had shed had long drained from her. Yet Lyrah was never one to linger in regret, not when she could work to make things better.

She twined her fingers around the sword’s hilt, wrapped in braided leather darkened by years of use. It had only been a week or so ago since she’d last spent an afternoon behind her bar, spinning the blade in both intricate arcs and simple feints and thrusts. Yet drawing it with intent to use it for the first time in years left the blade feeling far heavier than she remembered. The weight made her arm ache, and her heart tighten. Maybe she could end this without bloodshed.

Maybe not.

Lyrah passed through her bedroom back into the main hall of the tavern. The place was empty. Half-eaten plates of food and mugs still filled sat atop a few tables. Lyrah spun her blade around her hand a few times, and found the drinks Trina left for her atop the counter, a small glass of whiskey, and a large mug of water. Lyrah downed the whisky in a single pull, scrunched her face, and then took the water with her into the kitchen. As quickly as everyone seemed to have ran outside, she wanted to make sure no one left anything in a position to catch on fire. Satisfied that smoldering cooking fires weren’t going to burn her bar down, she returned to the spacious main room and made her way to the front door, finishing off her water.

Lyrah set the wooden mug down, took a deep breath, and headed outside. For a moment she could see nothing but the blinding morning sunlight. The harsh light was a golden spear piercing straight into her brain. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressed her palm to her forehead. God, she was way too hungover to deal with a dragon.

Voices whispered and buzzed in the distance, barely raising above the nearly audible pounding of her head. A louder, brassy voice rang out above them, a voice filled with arrogance and smugness. The words were nearly incomprehensible at first, the sounds nearly as blurred-together as her vision.

Lyrah took a few more deep breaths, willing the whisky and water to work their way into her blood a little faster and help abate her hangover for at least a little while. Hopefully the dragon wouldn’t just decide to stride over and bite off her head while she was collecting herself. Then again, as poor as she felt right now a quick death might be a better alternative.

Lyrah opened her eyes to gleaming slits, letting them adjust until the sunlight no longer pierced quite so deeply into her brain. When she could see more than vague outlines and fuzzy shapes, she gazed around the spacious, grassy area that stretched between her tavern and the forest that surrounded it.

A crowd of people spread across the grounds. All of her morning shift workers were there, both human and not. There were patrons of various races as well, along with people she recognized from the nearest village. No one seemed to have even noticed her stepping outside. Instead, they were all fixated on the dragon parading himself up and down the simple road that passed alongside her tavern.

The dragon was not as immense as she feared, though he was still larger even than a towering warhorse. Muscles rippled beneath an imposing array of forest green scales and black spikes. Hints of black and dark brown mottling splotched the backs of his vast green wings. Curved, ebony spines tipped his sinuous tail. The dragon strutted down the road, his serpentine neck arched, wings half unfurled. Looked like the creature was just showing himself off to all the gathered people.

Oh, God. He was busy telling them how great he was, wasn’t he.

“Furthermore, I shall expect an additional stipend from each of you at such time.”

Lyrah put her hand against her face, groaning. She didn’t need this right now. Damn dragons always seemed to think they were God’s gift to the world. Funny how no one ever seemed to agree. Lyrah spun her sword around her hand, grit her teeth and crossed the yard towards the dragon. The dragon didn’t seem to notice her approach, too busy strutting and showing himself off to the gathered masses like a horny peacock.

“Hey! Dragon!” Yeah, that ought to get his attention.

The green-scaled beast came to an immediate stop. He whirled around with far more grace than Lyrah expected such a creature to be capable of. She grit her teeth, tightening her grip on her sword. If this came to battle, she’d best keep that in mind. Dark golden eyes fixed upon her, and the dragon slunk towards her, every step oozed predatory elegance.

“That is not my name.” The dragon’s voice was like a rumbling, brassy bell, a toll that carried across the land. “By your blade, I shall assume you’re not some maiden sent for my amusement. Have you come to fight me?” The dragon shook himself, all his spikes standing up. “Ooh, this should be fun.”

Lyrah tensed. Was the dragon just toying with her or was he spoiling for a fight? She strode towards him, and the crowd parted before her. Trina, Conrad, Vargel and even Toth moved to stand with her, but she waved them back. While she appreciated the gesture, she was the only one carrying a sword. The only one with experience in this sort of situation.

Lyrah made a show of glancing at her sword. “I’m not here to fight you unless you force my hand, Dragon. I was told you wanted to speak to me. Figured I’d better come prepared just in case.”

“Oh, so you’re the one who owns this dump.” The dragon flicked an emerald wing towards the tavern. “Thought you were going to hide in there all day.”

“Wasn’t hiding.” Lyrah plunged the tip of her sword into the earth, leaning against it. God, her damn head hurt. “Trying to sleep off a hangover, actually.”

The dragon snorted, tossing his black-horned head. “Hungover, are you? Don’t think you’d be much sport in a fight, then.” He cocked his head, narrowing his golden eyes. The spiny frills around his head lifted up. “Though I can tell just looking at you, you’d not have entertained me in battle for long.”

Lyrah’s face heated a little. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“For one thing, you haven’t even bothered to wear any armor.” The dragon extended a few claws and made slicing motions in the air. “I’d cut through your soft little flesh like…what is that yellow, fatty substance you humans spread on your food?”

“Butter?” Trina called out from the crowd.

The dragon glanced her way and inclined his head. “Yes, butter. Thank you, woman.” He turned his gaze back to Lyrah, baring his many sharp teeth. “Without armor my claws would cut through your soft flesh like butter.”

Lyrah shot Trina a glare. “Doesn’t matter. If I wore armor heavy enough to protect against your claws I’d be slow as hell. You’d just knock me over and tear me up, or flame me and then all that armor’s nothing more than fancy cookware.” The dragon rumbled what sounded like laughter, and Lyrah went on. “Besides, under all those scales your flesh is as soft as mine.”

“You think so, do you Female?” The dragon lifted a foreleg, gazing at it as if contemplating his own hide. Thick, black-striped scutes protected the front of each limb. More scutes and plates protected the dragon’s chest, leaving heart and lungs buried beneath layers of armor and bone. “You’re welcome to test that theory.”

“I’d rather not.”

Lyrah pursed her lips, looking the dragon over for weaknesses while she had a chance. The scales of the dragon’s face and throated looked more pebbly than armored. And the scales across the top of his throat, just beyond his jaws looked especially fine. Not exactly an easy shot, though. She took a few steps to the side, and the dragon pivoted himself to continue facing her. Looked like the plating that protected his chest gradually faded back into pebbly scales across his belly, but it was hard to say while standing in front of him.

“If you’re looking for my vulnerabilities, allow me to stop you from wasting both our time.” The dragon lifted a paw, tracing a single claw tip across the top of his throat. “Yes, my scales here are thinner, so by all means, try and reach them without losing your arms or your head to my teeth and claws. You could reach my brain through my eyes, but again, same problem. And…” The dragon ran his claw down his neck, tapped it against his chest plates, then set his paw back down. “That’s about it, actually.”

Lyrah took a few steps in the other direction, and again the dragon kept himself facing her. She drummed her fingers against the hilt of her sword. “I’d wager I can find something vulnerable on you.”

“A wager, hmm?” The dragon sneered at her, flaring up the spiny frill between his horns. “And I’d wager you should have chosen a more suitable champion to represent your tavern than some human woman.”

Lyrah froze, a flash of anger left her belly tight and her fingers clenched around her sword hilt. “You have some problem with women, dragon?”

“Problem?” The dragon shook his head. “No.” He flexed his mottled green wings in what looked like a draconic shrug. “But I have heard that among humans, females are inferior to the males, particularly in combat. All the knights they send to try and slay us are always male. Therefor I find it hard to believe you’d be the least bit entertaining in battle, though I might get a laugh out of watching you stumble and flail about.”

Lyrah straightened her back, narrowing her eyes. “Inferior, huh?” Her face burned. Some of her comrades in the crowd started murmuring and backing away.

“Yes.” The dragon clicked his teeth, then smirked down at her. “Inferior. Now, shall we discuss the terms of your surrender and my tribute, or shall I burn down your ugly little tavern?”

Oooh, that big scaly bastard was just begging for a good, swift kick in the balls.

Actually…did he have those?

Lyrah was almost certain the dragon was male, though wasn’t as if a female dragon was going to have a songbird’s lilting voice. She doubted a female dragon would have made those comments about women. But did a male dragon even keep his bits and pieces in a vulnerable place? Maybe if Lyrah could get a look at a more personal area, she’d have an answer. She let her gaze wander down the dragon’s chest, but from the front it was impossible to see far enough along his underbelly.

“I won’t let you burn down my home, dragon.” Lyrah plunged her sword into the earth again, then took a few steps away from it to put him at ease. “Why don’t we talk about what you want, and maybe we can work something out. If we can’t…well…” She gestured to her blade. “We can try the other way and see how long I can amuse you. Does that sound fair?”

The dragon gazed at Lyrah, glanced at her sword, then flicked his spined tail against the earth. “Yes, Girl. That sounds fair.”

Lyrah growled. “My name isn’t girl.”

“And my name isn’t Dragon, but that hasn’t stopped you from calling me that.”

Much as Lyrah hated to admit it, the dragon had a point. “Alright then, what is your name? My name is Lyrah.”

The dragon curled his long green neck, golden eyes following Lyrah’s every movement. He smirked at her, lifting the spines all around his horned head. “My name is Namyrinax the Grand and Magnificent.” He waved a single paw. “You have permission to use my full title.”

Lyrah grit her teeth. Of course it was. “Grand and Magnificent? That’s part of your name?”

“Yes.” The dragon lowered his head, snaking it towards her until Lyrah felt the dragon’s hot breath wash over her face. “After all, I am grand and magnificent.” A low, rumbling growl crept up the dragon’s throat. “Aren’t I?”

“No sense in arguing with you.” Lyrah put her hand on the side of the dragon’s snout and pushed his muzzle aside before she stepped around him. The scales there were small, pebbly, and surprisingly warm. “So, then…Nam, what exactly do you want from me?”

The dragon blinked a few times as if trying to process the fact she’d dared touch him without his permission. He pulled his head back and licked his muzzle. Lyrah wondered if he was trying to taste her, or wash away her smell. He waved a single paw. “You may use my full title.”

“Namernarble the Grossly Marginal it is.” Lyrah strolled around the dragon, trying to glance along his underbelly before he turned to face her again.

The dragon pivoted and the spines that tipped his long tail whistled through the air. The crowd murmured, some of them stepped back out of range. “What was that you just called me?”

“Sorry, your name is quite a mouthful.” Lyrah gave an exaggerated bow, speaking swiftly enough to ensure her words were a little jumbled. “I’m doing my best, Nirglenacks the Grandly Misconceived.” She straightened and smiled at the dragon. “So what was it you wanted from me?”

“Tribute, to my greatness.” The dragon snorted, then turned himself again as Lyrah continued to circle him. “Why do you pace around me so?”

“Yes, tribute was assumed.” Lyrah folded her arms, eyes wandering the dragon’s body, looking for weaknesses. The scales seemed thinner around all his joints, but she still hadn’t gotten a good enough look to tell his gender because he continued to move to face her. Not that she could blame him, she wouldn’t turn her back on an enemy either. “And I’m just examining you. You’re the first dragon I’ve seen up so close, and I’ve got to measure your claim.”

The dragon cocked his head, his ears swiveling forward. “My claim?”

“Yes, you claim to be so great and magnificent. So I’m trying to measure your greatness.”

“It is immeasurable.” The dragon snapped his jaws, rustled his wings. “But your curiosity amuses me.”

“Then perhaps you’d stand still so that I might get a better at you?”

“Perhaps.” The dragon glanced at her blade, standing in the earth, then back at Lyrah. “So long as you stay clear from your weapon while I do so.”

“Certainly, dragon.” Lyrah walked further from her sword, smiling. “Though I didn’t think you one to be afraid of a little sword, let alone a woman. Didn’t you say we’re inferior?”

“So I have been told, yes.” The dragon rumbled, flaring out his wings. “First we discuss my tribute. Then I may let you examine me.”

“Fair enough.” Lyrah smiled at the dragon. Oh, she’d show him how “inferior” women were soon enough. “You’re going to have to tell me exactly what you want. Humans need specifics.”

“Very well.” The dragon turned his head, gazing across the crowd for long moments. “I have only just claimed this land as my new home, you see.”

While the dragon’s attention was elsewhere, Lyrah ran a hand down her face. Great. Now she was gonna get some damn dragon’s life story. She took a few steps towards his hind end, and the dragon swished his tail, the spines perilously close to her body. She stepped back, glaring at him. Guess he was still paying her more attention than she thought.

The dragon slowly turned his head, surveying the crowd as he spoke. “I have been looking for a new home of late after my last one suffered an unfortunate infestation of men with pointy sticks. I can only squish so many of them before their armor bruises my paw pads.” The dragon tossed his head. “Not that I wasn’t planning to leave anyway. I was sick of that valley.”

Lyrah furrowed her brow. Sounded like he’d been driven from his home by dragon slayers or something but his ego just wouldn’t let him admit it. If it wasn’t for the shroud of arrogance he cloaked himself in, she might have felt sorry for the dragon.

“Clearly the problem was not enough respect.” The dragon snorted, flaring all his spines. “That won’t happen again. In my travels I fell in love with this forest. It’s thick, lush, beautiful, and filled with delicious animals. So I’ve claimed it.” The dragon waved his paw in a grand gesture. “The forest, and everything within it now belong to me. But fear not.” He raised his horned head up, arching his neck in pride. “I, Namyrinax the Great and Magnificent, am willing to share my home with all of you lesser creatures. So long as you all grant me the proper respect, of course. And the proper tribute.”

“So that’s all you want?” Lyrah raised her voice to draw the dragon’s attention. “Respect and money?”

The dragon gazed down at her, his wedge-shaped head tilted. “In a manner of speaking, yes. You see, the problem before was lack of respect. If they had respected me more, they’d not have come to…well, you get the idea.”

“Respect has to be earned, dragon.” Lyrah gazed across her friends in the crowd. Her eyes lingered on a few of theirs. They’d earned her respect with their actions, and she hoped she’d earned theirs in return. “You’d be wise to--”

The dragon cut her off. “How about this? You respect me and give me my tribute, or I’ll burn down your little tavern and take anything of value that remains.”

“And you wonder why they sent dragonslayers after you.”

The dragon snarled at her, unsheathing long black claws. He flexed his paws, dragged his unsheathed talons through the earth, carving ruts. “Careful, Girl. They had an army, and here I see only rabble standing behind one brave but foolish woman. If I were you, I would--”

This time Lyrah cut the dragon off. “How much do you want, anyway?”

The dragon seemed taken aback. He closed his maw, opened it, and then closed it again. He growled as if frustrated to have his little threat display cut short. His spined tail twitched in the air behind him, an angry tic. “Eighty percent of your earnings. Monthly. And an equal stipend from all your workers.”

Damn beast had a number ready and everything. Lyrah shook her head, her countenance darkening. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” The dragon stomped a hind paw against the ground, unfurling his wings. “You cannot say no!”

“I just did.” Lyrah tilted her head. “Shall I say it again? No.”

“But..you can’t…” The dragon trailed off.

“I have to. May I explain why?”

Namyrinax glared at Lyrah, anger shining in his golden eyes. His spines stood rigid around his head and down his neck. Muscles tensed beneath his green armor. Lyrah wondered if this was the first time he’d ever been denied something. The dragon took a deep breath, his forest green chest plates expanding. Then tilted his head back and roared. The sound was all primal fury, knives digging in her ears. When his roar ended, he sucked in another breath and spat fire into the sky.

The eruption of roiling orange-red flame from the dragon’s maw sent Lyrah backpedaling. Oppressive heat washed over her, left her sweating in an instant. The cascading fire that streamed from the dragon’s mouth lasted only a moment but the waves of searing heat remained long after the fire vanished. The fire’s brightness burned itself into Lyrah’s eyes in lingering patterns of reddish gold.

“You tell me no again…” The dragon settled himself, tightening his wings up against his body, his voice a coiled whisper of barely restrained menace. “And the next time my dragonfire graces you, it will be incinerating your home.”

Lyrah swallowed, her heart thudding in her chest. A few beads of perspiration ran down her forehead. The heat left her eyes watering. She wrung her hands. She was going to have to find a way to end this sooner rather than later. Maybe she could continue to play to the dragon’s ego. “I thought a grand dragon would prefer to a chance to prove his prowess in negotiation?”

“Why would I want that when I can simply demand to have my wishes fulfilled?” The dragon took a step towards her, lowering his head.

That was actually a good question. Lyrah licked her lips. “To be honest, Mr. Grand and Magnificent, I simply cannot afford to give you eighty percent.”

The dragon snorted, lashing his tail against the earth. His spines tore up a chunk of sod and sent it hurtling towards the crowd. A lizardman ducked it. “That is not my problem.”

“With great respect, it is your problem.” Lyrah spread her hands before herself. “You see, if I pay you eighty percent, I will go out of business next month. I built this place with my own savings, and at great financial risk. While I’ve succeeded, much of the profit I make goes into keeping my tavern operational. If I go out of business, you’ll get no more tribute from me ever again. But if I stay in business…well, you’ll be able to collect your coin every month for the rest of your life.”

“I shall outlive you, human.”

Lyrah smiled. Wasn’t he the optimist? “Of course. But you see my point, do you not?”

The dragon rumbled, tilting his head. He flexed a single wing, scratching his long neck with a wingtip talon. “How much can you afford, then?”

“Forty percent.”

“Nonsense. Seventy.”

Lyrah’s smile grew. Now they were getting somewhere. Let the beast calm, let him think himself in charge. “Forty Five, Mr. Magnificent.”

The dragon licked his muzzle, splaying his ears out. “Sixty five.”

“Sixty is as high as I can possible go.”

“Sixty is it, then.” The dragon arched his neck in smug pride. “Starting today.”

“Very well.” Lyrah bowed to the dragon, grimacing. Bending forward made her head throb. Stupid monster was really putting a crimp on her morning. Like hell she was paying him tribute. “Namyrinax the Grand and Magnificent, we have a deal.”

“Good.” The dragon swung his head towards the tavern. “Go and collect my coin then. And some food. And some drink. In fact, I shall include that as part of our deal.”

“Not so fast.” Lyrah wagged a finger at the dragon. “I believe there was talk of an examination? If we’re going to pay you so much coin every month, I want to make sure it’s going to a worthy creature. I’d like to see for myself that you’re as grand as you say you are, otherwise I might want to find a more impressive dragon to donate my hard-earned gold to.”

Namyrinax tilted his head to the side, flicking his ears back. His spines lifted a little. “Can you not tell simply from setting eyes upon me?”

“I could tell better if I could get a look at all of you.” Lyrah gave the dragon a friendly enough smile. How did one act awed, anyway? “May I just walk around you a bit, look you over? I thought you’d want to show yourself off for me.” She waved at the crowd. “For all of us.”

“Have I not been doing that?”

“You’ve certainly been keen to show me your face, and your chest.” Lyrah walked, taking a few steps around the side of the dragon. “I’d like a good look at the rest of you, though. See how well armored you are everywhere else. Look at those spines on your tail, the claws on your hind feet. Maybe you could spread your wings, too. You know, just see how truly magnificent you really are.”

Namyrinax’s pink tongue flicked over his nostrils, and a smile crept across the dragon’s muzzle. “Very well.”

The green dragon shifted to better display himself for the gathered masses. He snapped out his vast green wings to their full extent. Hints of black and dark brown mottling dappled their emerald expanse. His full wing span cast shade across many in the crowd, they moved back. The dragon lifted his head high, arching his neck. He flexed his limbs, muscles rippled under his natural armor and black talons revealed themselves. He curled his long tail to show off the curved black spines that tipped it.

Namyrinax gazed down at Lyrah, a smirk crinkled the pebbly scales of his muzzle. Smug pride filled his brassy voice. “Well? What do you think? I am magnificent, aren’t I?”

Not so magnificent that he hadn’t let a few dragonslayers scare him off. Lyrah smiled and bowed her head. “Oh, very magnificent indeed.”

The dragon’s emerald hide looked glossy, only a few blemishes and scars. Perhaps dragons healed quickly, or maybe he just hadn’t been in many fights. Or maybe his hide was just that impenetrable. She walked around behind the creature, trailed her hand across his tail. The scales there were smooth and warm, and the muscles twitched beneath them. The black spines looked sturdy enough to punch through iron armor with no trouble at all. Damn dragon didn’t seem to have many vulnerabilities at all.

Or did he?

Lyrah leaned to the side a little bit, trying to glance beneath the dragon’s tail. Even as he curled the end of it, the base of his tail remained in a rather protective position. She took a step to the side, tilting her head. Maybe he did have something vulnerable to protect.

“What exactly are you looking for?” The amusement in Namyrinax voice sent a rush of crimson heat to Lyrah’s cheeks.

“I was…that is…” Lyrah let her embarrassment work to her advantage. She wrung her hands and glanced away. “Trying to see if you had…I mean…you are a male dragon, aren’t you? Or…are you?”

“Yes, I am male. I didn’t know you human maidens were truly so curious.” Stupid dragon sounded far too smarmy for his own good. Oh, she wanted to put this arrogant beast in his place. “Thought those were only stories.”

Lyrah grit her teeth, but hid her indignity behind a sheepish smile. “I may be a little curious. Like I said, you’re the first dragon I’ve ever seen up close. I wanted to be sure of your gender, but I was embarrassed to ask. I thought maybe if…well…I got a peek under your tail…I mean, assuming you even have…er…them.”

“Them?” The dragon lifted his frills, his smirk growing. The arrogant smarm was positively dripping from his voice now. It made Lyrah’s skin crawl. “Are you trying to see my testicles?”

Lyrah glanced away, her whole face reddening in anger. Stupid dragon was having way to much fun trying to humiliate her. Oh, she’d show him soon enough. Let him think she was embarrassed, she was shy. It’d help get his guard down, she was sure. She gave a slow nod. “I mean…not something I’d get many chances to see, right? Or are they…inside you, like a lizard?”

The dragon hissed at her. “I am not a lizard! Dragons have warm blood, just like you.” He snorted, flicking his spines back. “Dragons keep their testicles in the same place every other respectable creature does.”

“Oh?” Lyrah arched a brow, grinning. Time to really play to his arrogance. Any moment now, and she’d have him eating out of the palm of her hand. Or groveling at her feet. Whichever came first. “And are they as…magnificent as the rest of you?”

“Of course they are.” The dragon tossed his head. “Since you’re such a curious little maiden, perhaps you’d like to see for yourself.”

Perfect. “Oh…well…” Lyrah let her false shyness shine through a little longer. “I mean…if you’d be willing…I wouldn’t want to embarrass you though.”

The dragon snorted. “Nonsense. Dragons are not ashamed of our anatomy, unlike humans.”

“In that case…” Lyrah clasped her hands, and feigned a giggle. “If you’d like to show them off, I’d like to see.”

“Of course you would.” The dragon smirked at her over his wings. “Very well, I shall allow you to look upon the crown jewels of my hoard.”

Lyrah was going to enjoy this more with every smug word that dripped from the dragon’s arrogant tongue. He certainly had it coming, that was for sure. She stepped back to give the beast a little room. The dragon leaned his weight onto his forelegs, then widened his stance, back legs set further apart. Namyrinax arched his long tail, curling it up and to the side of his scaly rump. One question was answered, the dragon was definitely male. It looked like he had a couple of green apples nestled between his hind legs.

“There.” Tail still up, the dragon sneered back at her. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” Time to strike a blow for women everywhere.

Lyrah smiled at Namyrinax, then took a few swift steps and kicked the dragon in the balls with all she had. Her boot shot up between his hind legs like an arrow loosed from a bow and left the dragon’s testicles bobbling from the impact. The blow wrenched a strange, strangled yet high-pitched cry of pain from the dragon, along with a coughed burst of red-orange flame.

“URRRLLEEEAARRGGHH!”

Now that was a noise she’d never heard before. At the same time, the dragon went totally cross-eyed, golden eyes bugged out and turned inward above his muzzle. His spiny frills popped out to full extension, his maw hung open and his tongue lolled out. A forepaw shot back to cradle his battered pride, and for a moment the dragon just stood there like that, cross-eyed and slack-jawed.

Then his hind legs trembled, his spines drooped against his head, and Namyrinax crumpled to the ground, letting out the longest, deepest groan of pain Lyrah had ever heard. “Aaaaawwwwwwwwhhhhhh!”

Bullseye.

“Told you I’d find something vulnerable.” Lyrah folded her arms, grinning at the crumpled beast. “How’s that feel, Dragon? Huh? You still feel like the superior gender?”

Once on the ground, the dragon curled to cup himself in both front paws, his muzzle and face a mask of scrunched scales and crossed eyes. In front of everyone, the dragon rolled around in the grass and dirt, groaning. As he squirmed, his spiny frills flushed a reddish hue, his nostrils nearly purple. He rocked from one side of his body to the other, rubbed his hind legs together. His spined tail curled and twisted, his wings flopped one moment, and beat the air the next.

“Oooooooooooh!” The dragon rolled back and forth a few more times, his head lolling, tongue hanging out of his muzzle. “Awwwww!”

Not very dragon-like. At first, the whole crowd seemed stunned by what just happened. Not that Lyrah could blame them. Kicking a dragon in the nuts was pretty daring, even for her. As the dragon’s writhing and squirming continued, hints of laughter bubbled up here and there from the crowd.

Then Trina stepped forward, a big grin erasing all the fear on her face. “Lyrah just kicked the dragon in the balls!”

Toth walked up alongside Trina, barking harsh gnoll laughter after Trina pointed out the obvious. “Bahahahahahahah! Dragon not so tough now!”

“Uuuuuurrrrrgggggh!” The dragon’s only reply was a guttural groaning noise as he rolled over to his belly a moment. He flexed a hind leg, claws cutting ruts in the grass. “Nnnnrrrrgh!” He rubbed himself with his fore paws, and then rolled towards his back again. “My emeralds! Oooooh, my aching emeralds!”

“Emeralds?” Lyrah laughed, shaking her head. “You place far too much value on them, Dragon.”

Whatever dam held back the crowd’s jubilance at Lyrah’s “victory” shattered when the dragon called them his ‘emeralds’. A flood of boisterous laughter washed over everyone including Lyrah. Though she hadn’t kicked the dragon for just for laughter, though she had to admit, seeing that look on a dragon’s face and seeing him squirm that way was hilarious. She’d kicked him because the smug beast deserved it.

The dragon squirmed for a few moments longer before he finally ended up on his belly, with his haunches slightly raised up and both forepaws clutching his green apples, hidden by his twisting tail. His head lay on the grass, propped up at an odd angle by a horn embedded in the earth. His eyes were squeezed shut, but Lyrah could have sworn she saw sunlight glisten on a tear or two. His maw hung half open, the dragon’s tongue lolled out and he drooled a little.

“I’m guessing that’s the first time you’ve ever felt that pain, huh Dragon?” Lyrah took a few steps towards the vanquished beast. “Rather surprised no one’s done that to you before, with your attitude. Looks like it hurts. Not that I’d know.” She smirked at him. “We ‘inferior’women don’t have those.”

As the crowd laughed, the dragon shifted onto his back, his wings sprawled against the ground. He cupped his balls in both forepaws, his whole scaly muzzle scrunched up in pain. His eyes opened to pained, golden slits. He stretched his hind legs up into the air, toes splayed in pain.

“Cease your gloating.” The dragon’s voice was little more than a strained groan in a higher pitch than before.

“Fine.” Lyrah walked a few paces around the dragon, staying out of his reach. “Then let’s renegotiate our deal. You get nothing from us, but you get to leave here with your life.” She glanced at his cradled paws, grinning. “And your stones.”

“Your filthy little harlot!” The dragon spat his words through grit teeth. Flame flickered between his fangs. Fury now shone alongside pain in his golden eyes. “You kicked me in my emeralds!”

“Yes, I did.” Lyrah nudged the toe of her boot against the ground. “And if you’re not going to show me a little respect, I’m going to do it again. Twice.”

“How dare you kick a dragon in his jewels!” A low, rumbling growl crept up the dragon’s throat.

“Oh, I dared quite easily, thanks to that comment about made about women earlier.” Lyrah took a few more steps around him. “If you didn’t want them kicked, perhaps you shouldn’t have been so eager to show them off like a big, scaly pervert.”

The dragon’s growl grew louder and louder till the sound of his anger eclipsed the sound of his pain. “When I get up, I am going to burn your tavern to the ground, and anyone who tries to stop me shall be buried in its ashes!”

Uh oh. Maybe she pushed the gloating a little too far. She should have stopped while she was ahead. She wasn’t sure she could kill the dragon in battle before he’d actually set her home ablaze, and if he took to the skies first she’d never be able to bring him down. She’d hoped to end this without bloodshed, but the dragon didn’t seem to want to give her a choice. At least a dragon’s hide and the rest of his corpse would pay for all manner of improvements.

In a flash, Lyrah went for her blade and the whole crowd fell silent. The dragon lifted his head to track her, and she slammed the toe of her boot into his throat, just below his jaw. It was the same place he’d pointed out his own vulnerability earlier. The dragon coughed in pain, tongue protruding as he gasped for breath. He pulled one paw from his nether region to clutch his throat instead.

While the dragon gasped and struggled for air, Lyrah snatched up her sword. The familiar feel of the braided leather biting into her calloused palm brought her focus. The weight of the steel gave her purpose. She pivoted towards the dragon, hefting the blade, ready to strike before the dragon could recover, to kill the monster before the monster could kill her and her friends. The leather, the steel, the weight, the motion. It was all so familiar. All she had to do was bring that blade down with all she had against the softest part of his throat and she could add dragon-slayer to her long list of former titles. That was her life, once. To end monsters like him.

But no more.

Her focus faded, her resolve cracked, and her purpose wavered.

She had not built this place to kill another so-called monster.

She’d built it to save them.

The dragon moved and Lyrah acted. She dropped a knee onto the dragon’s throat, and shifted her sword, pressing the edge of the blade under his jaw until it bit through scale and into flesh. Red blood ran in wet lines down the dragon’s green scales, and the creature gasped. A flash of terror, pure and real, flickered in his golden eyes. Unsheathed black claws came for Lyrah’s face, and she pressed the blade harder, deeper.

“Stop! Don’t make me kill you!”

The dragon froze, ebony talons trembling before her. Mottled, gray and black pads covered the underside of his shivering green paws. The dragon’s whole body shook, his scales clicked. Lyrah felt the dragon’s lifeblood pulsing through his scaly neck beneath her knees. His heartbeat was thunderous and frantic. His breath came in ragged pants. He stared back at her through eyes wide and filled with whirling golden fear. She knew that look, that feeling, that fear. That desperate desire to live. She knew well enough that no creature ever wanted to live so badly as in that moment just before death.

For what might have been the first time in his life, the dragon was terrified.

Lyrah’s voice shook even as her grip upon her weapon remained iron hard. “I don’t want to kill you, Dragon. Please don’t make me. Yield!”

Namyrinax panted under her, fighting for breath beneath her weight against his neck, and her sword against his throat. He flexed his trembling talons just before her face. “I could kill you just as swiftly!”

“Only one of us would be mourned, Dragon.” Lyrah pushed her blade a little deeper into his throat. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Namyrinax sucked in a breath, his body tensing. More crimson rivulets streaked his scales. “I’m not…going to beg!”

Frightened, but brave. Lyrah took a slow breath. “I’m not asking you to. Only to ask yourself if your life is worth more than your pride. All your choices, all your decisions, this is where they’ve lead you. Ask yourself what your life has meant. Is this all you wanted from your life? Driven by your greed, by your arrogance, caring nothing for anyone else? Remembered only as a monster, celebrated only in your death.”

Lyrah dared not lift her eyes from the dragon’s gaze as a torrent of confused emotions swirled behind the golden mirrors. “Is this how you want to die, Dragon? Is this where you want your life to end? Humiliated and hurt? Terrified in your last moments, bleeding out into the mud? It’s your choice, Dragon. Which is more valuable to you, your pride or your life? Too many dragons have already been slain, too much blood has been spilled. It doesn’t have to end this way. Take a breath, Dragon, and realize this is where your life ends, or where it begins. Do you yield, Dragon?”

Namyrinax took a few slow deep breaths. His golden eyes shone wet, his whole body shook beneath her. The dragon blinked, and a few tears spilled down his scales. Lyrah knew those tears well. She’d shed them herself, once, the day she faced her own choice.

“It’s alright to cry, Dragon.” Lyrah’s voice eased but her blade did not. “I cried, when I lay in your place. In the midst of a lizard village in the swamp I’d helped burn. A village of monsters, I thought. I knew no better than what I’d been taught. Till one of them bested me, and even as his home burned, he offered me a choice as I lay bleeding beneath his spear. To die there, in the mire, a forgotten marauder who slew those I did not understand. Or to live. To make myself something better. And I cried, Dragon. I cried because I was afraid to die, and I cried because in the distance, when my people were routed, I saw his children clinging to their mother. And I knew the only monster left in that swamp was me.” Lyrah took a deep breath to steady her voice, and let it out slow. “This is it, Dragon. Die a monster’s death, or live, and let me offer you something better?”

The dragon worked his muzzle a few times, his tongue twisted in his snout. His spines lifted, flattened, and lifted again, but no words crossed his teeth.

“I need an answer.” She kept her blade in place and pressed her free hand to the scales of his throat. His breath rattled in frightened pants. His pulse throbbed beneath his scales with the sprinting pace of the terrified dragon’s heartbeat. “One way or another, you have to say it. Live or die?”

“I want to live!” The dragon’s words came in a breathy, frightened rush. “I want to live!”

“Good.” Lyrah eased the blade back a fraction of an inch. “Move your claws and tell me you yield. Ask for my mercy.”

Namyrinax hesitated, furrowing his eye ridges. He hissed through his teeth as he eased back his forepaw from Lyrah.

“I know it’s hard for a creature so prideful.” Lyrah shifted her weight a little, giving the dragon a bit more breathing room. “But it’s important you say the words. Say the words dragon, and let me spare your life. Too many of your kin have already died for nothing. Let me save you from that fate.”

Namyrinax gave a long, groaning sigh, and with it all the lingering pride, arrogance and defiant went out of him. The dragon deflated under her, laying his head back against the ground. “Fine. I will yield to you, if you will show me mercy and spare my life.”

“Close enough.” Lyrah smiled, relief washing through her like a cool breeze. Thank the Gods the beast asked for mercy. “Put your paws up, so I feel safer. I promise no more harm will come to you now, unless you attack me again. And if you do, I will end you. Do you understand?”

The dragon groaned, nodding. He lifted a forepaw up and rested it against the ground. “Yes.”

Lyrah glanced back to the other paw which had returned to cradling the dragon’s jewels. She smirked. “Both paws, Dragon.” When Namyrinax hesitated, she patted his neck. “I promise I won’t kick them again so long as you behave yourself. I have an offer for you, Dragon, and we need to trust one another a little before I make it. So you move your paws, I’ll move my sword, and I’ll tell you what I propose. Go on.”

Namyrinax eased his paw away from his balls and draped his foreleg out across the grass at his side.

“There you go.” Lyrah patted his neck, and pulled her blade back from his throat. Trickles of fresh blood added red stripes to the pebbly green scales of the dragon’s neck. “Now we’ve established a basis for trust. Isn’t this better than just demanding things?”

Namyrinax rumbled, flaring his spines a little as he glared at her. He blinked a few times, clearing his golden eyes. Hoarseness coarsened the dragon’s brassy voice. His words still shook a little. “You said you had an offer.”

“So I did.” Lyrah resisted the urge to glance around at the crowd. She needed to keep her attention focused on the dragon in case he tried anything else. “Now that I’ve spared your life, you don’t have to take my offer, but I’ll ask you to think hard about it when I present it. First, your other options.”

“Will you get off of my throat now?” Namyrinax groaned, licked his muzzle, and wheezed a little.

Lyrah grit her teeth. She hadn’t planned on letting the dragon up till she’d concluded her negotiations. She didn’t like giving up an advantage over a potential enemy till she was sure they were no longer a threat. “Not just yet.”

“You have thoroughly humiliated me in front of a crowd, held my life in your hands and given it back to me.” The dragon lifted his head, bits of sod clung to his horns as he stared at Lyrah. “I assure you, the last thing I want to do right now is try and fight you.”

Lyrah saw no more defiance burning in the dragon’s eyes. She considered it for a moment before she eased off of his throat and back to her feet. As she stepped away she aimed her blade at his neck, ready to deflect or evade any attempt he made at retaliation. “Better?”

“Yes.” The dragon took a very deep breath as soon as her weight was off his throat. He let out a long sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Namyrinax rolled over onto his paws. He rose to his feet, every movement ginger. He wobbled, then eased back onto his haunches. With a groan, the dragon hunched forward, his muzzle scrunched in discomfort.

Lyrah spun her blade around her hand, a few droplets of dragon blood speckled the grass. “You alright?”

Namyrinax curled his tail around his paws. “Moving makes them ache again.” He took a few slow breaths, bending his long neck till his head nearly touched the ground.

Lyrah bit her lip to hold back her laugh. “They’ll feel better soon enough, Dragon.”

The dragon grunted. He lifted a forepaw and held it to his throat, then stared at the blood caking his mottled gray paw pads. “Why did you spare me?”

“There’s no reason for you to die, Dragon.” Lyrah glanced down at the fresh blood caking her sword. Been a while since she’d seen that.

“That is not what most humans think.”

“I know.” Lyrah whirled her sword again, glancing around at the crowd. Everyone was silent, and almost perfectly still. Many of them knew just what the dragon was going through. “Listen, Namyrinax.”

The dragon turned his head towards her and set his paw down.

Lyrah allowed herself a little smile. His name wasn’t so hard. “Let me tell your options before you get all feisty again. First, when you feel better, you can take to your wings and fly from here, and never return. No further harm will come to you from me, or from anyone on my behalf. You’ll leave this land, just as you left the last land, and as I suspect you’ve been chased from just about everywhere you called home. You’ll probably find somewhere else you like, burn things or hurt people and make demands until they send knights after you, and the cycle will repeat until eventually they slay you.”

The dragon rumbled low in his throat, glancing away. He flicked his spiny frills back against his head.

“Option two, we can have that fight you seemed so eager for.” Lyrah tightened her grip on her sword when the dragon turned his golden gaze back upon her. His spined tail tip flicked against the grass. “Then at best, I subdue you again and send you on your way. At worst we kill each other, and even if you kill me, those dragon slayers get sent after you that much faster.”

The dragon looked away again, his wedge shaped head hanging. “I have already been humiliated and bested once today. Pride demands I seek revenge but…as you put it, my life is worth more than my pride. I have little desire left in me for a fight this day. My emeralds have been pulverized enough for one day. I will take the first option, if you will allow me the time to recover before my flight.”

Lyrah chuckled a little, and thrust her sword into the ground. She leaned against it, her hand on the pommel. “Option three. I offer you a job at my bar, and you let me help you better your life.”

Namyrinax coughed, his spines flared out all at once. Looked like he’d nearly swallowed his long tongue. “You offer me what?”

“A job at my bar.” Lyrah waved towards her tavern, grinning. “As my bouncer.”

The dragon tilted his head in confusion, one ear perked. “How would that make my life better? And what is a bouncer?”

“A bouncer is someone who keeps order, and deals with troublemakers.” Lyrah drummed her fingers against the sword’s leather wrapped hilt. “And being my bouncer would make your life better because it will give you everything you want in life. Respect, gold, and a place to feel safe that you can call your home.”

The dragon narrowed his eyes, snarling. “I fail to see how this would provide me any of those things.”

“You’d get the respect because you’d earn it. You’d get to toss drunkards out on their asses, wade into brawls to break them up, protect us from any thieves or vandals. You’d get the gold because I’d pay you a wage to do just that. A good wage, if you ask me.” Lyrah approached the dragon, leaving her sword embedded in the earth. “More importantly, you could call this place home, and mean it. Once you work for me, you’re a citizen here. You’re not longer some dragon coming to claim everything for himself, you’re a local. You’re Lyrah’s bouncer at The Beast’s Respite.”

“While I appreciate the name, I do not think working for a tavern would stop knights from coming to claim my life.”

“On the contrary, Namyrinax.” Lyrah smiled. This was her favorite part. “They’d be oath bound to protect you.”

The dragon stared at her, curling his neck. “What?”

Lyrah turned away from him, waving her hand towards the crowd. “Look around you. Half my staff and most of my regulars aren’t even human. Most of the world sees them as monsters to be chased off or slain. But here? Here they’re all friends. That’s why I built this place. That’s how I wanted to better my life. My own little attempt at atonement for all the lives I took before I knew better. I wanted a place where everyone is welcome. Humans, gnolls, lizardmen, Urd’thin…even dragons. All the creatures of the world are welcome here, Namyrinax, and the only rule is that they respect one another while they’re on my land.”

“But the knights…”

“Have come to accept it.” Lyrah smiled, walking along the crowd. “Because I gave these people a chance to prove themselves to me, and to the villages. I invite the villagers out here for a good time, and they get to know my workers. I take my workers into town, and the village gets used to them. They’re not hunted, anymore. They’re not monsters, anymore. They’re friends. I pay them, they pay taxes…they’re citizens. If someone comes to harm my workers, you’d better be damn sure the village knights will protect them like any other citizen.”

Namyrinax gazed across the ground, rustling his wings. “I was wondering about that, actually.”

Lyrah laughed, turning towards the dragon again. “I was given a second chance in life, dragon, by the very creatures I once hunted. Since then, I have dedicated myself to trying to better their lives, to give them the opportunities no one else will.” She pointed to the tall gnoll female in the crowd. “Toth there used to be part of a raiding party among her people, attacking travelers and merchants. When knights were sent to track them down, I went with them. I offered Toth a chance at a better life, and she took it.”

Lyrah waved towards the green-scaled lizardman. “That’s Vaargel. He’s one of my oldest friends, now. Found him locked in a cell in some village. They were going to execute him. I made him an offer and broke him out. He and Toth helped me build this place. Trina, the woman you talked too before, she’s a former thief who tried to rob me.” Lyrah turned towards the dragon again and gave a long sigh. “My point is, Dragon. Everyone deserves a second chance. Even you. The villages here have all come to accept these people because one by one, they’ve proven themselves to be deserving of that acceptance. All they ever needed was a chance. Now I’m offering you that same chance. I’m offering you a home, Dragon. A home where you’re accepted. You’ll be renowned across the land. People will come here just to see you, just to meet you. You’ll have gold, respect, you’ll food and drink, you’ll have a home. You said you loved this land, well, I’m offering you a chance to stay here. Slayers will seek you no longer. You’ll be known as one of us. I suspect it might be the first time you’ve ever felt safe.”

Namyrinax pushed a wing forward, scratching at his neck with the black talon tipping it. “I will grant you, true security is a rare feeling for a dragon.”

“Then take my offer.” Lyrah walked to the dragon, and placed her hand upon his plated chest. His plates were warm, and smooth. She could just feel his heartbeat beneath them. “If you find you don’t like living here, you can always leave. But you came here for respect and gold, did you not? I’m offering you a chance to earn those things, and I’m offering you a home. Hell, if you can find a way to climb over that mountain of smug attitude, you might even make a friend or two.”

The dragon arched his neck, swiveling his ears forward. He stared down at Lyrah’s hand upon his chest. He unsheathed his claws, and dragged them through the grass, rumbling low in his throat. “Very well. I accept your offer.”

“Excellent!” Lyrah patted the dragon’s chest. “I think you’re going to like it here.”

The dragon snorted, glancing away. He pinned his spines back against his head. “We shall see.”

Lyrah gazed back at the bar, ignoring the growing murmurs of an increasingly excited crowd. “Have to do some renovations so you can fit inside. Probably have to measure you. And I’ll expect you to be on your best behavior when I introduce you to the guards from the village. Have to make a good first impression.”

The dragon rose up to all fours, sighing. He shook his hind end and curled his tail. “You’re not going to kick me in front of them again, are you?”

Lyrah laughed, shrugging. “That depends on what you say about women. Though, that brings up a good point. I think we’ll have to your emeralds measured, too.”

The dragon turned his head to smirk at Lyrah, a hint of pride returning. “You wish to measure their magnificence?”

“No. I wish to fit you for a protective cup.” Lyrah plucked her sword from the ground and walked towards the crowd, waving for them to make way. “Can’t have my bouncer felled by a kick in the nuts.”

The dragon grumbled, lashing his tail. “I refuse to wear such a device!”

“You’d rather get kicked again?”

“I’d rather keep my hind end out of reach!”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Lyrah laughed as the crowds parted for her. She cast a glance to the towering female gnoll nearby. Toth stood with her beige-furred head tilted and one black spotted ear perked, staring at the dragon like a curious hound. “Speaking of which, keep an eye on Toth there. She gets grabby.”

“But she prefers soft, squishy things. Like Conrad.” Trina walked up alongside Lyrah after casting a wary glance at the dragon.

“Dragon better than squishy Conrad.” Toth walked towards the dragon, growling playfully and rubbing her hands together.

“Hands to yourself, Creature.” Namyrinax stared at her, frills flared in alarm. “Perhaps I will let you armor my testicles after all.”

Lyrah laughed, and waved the dragon forward. “Come on, Namyrinax. I’ll introduce you and show you around.” As the dragon begrudgingly padded after her, Lyrah smiled at Trina. “Problem solved, Trina.”

“So it seems,” Trina said, grinning. She shook her head as she walked alongside Lyrah. “Can’t say I expected you to offer him a job.”

“I needed a bouncer, anyway.” She glanced at the dragon over her shoulder. Toth approached him, and he tucked his tail, hissing at her. Oh, this was going to be fun. She put an arm around Conrad’s waist when she passed him, grinning.

“You’d better go get poor Emeralds a good, strong drink. He’s going to need it.”

*****

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