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~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Coverart made using 3dsMax and Photoshop ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Set in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, a dragonborn paladin and his sorcerous friend encounter must fight their way through bands of bandits and thieves to form new friendships and romances.

Author's Forward

Before anything I would like to thank those my proof readers who made this story possible in no particular order:

1. A very special thanks to Haki for breaking the story for me so I could fix it.

2. Thank you to Hunter Tyrus who's insight helped me fix the broken parts.

3. Thanks to Skye Wulf helping me tidy up the combat sequences.

4. And a final thanks to KJwulf for the very first alpha read and analysis.

Welcome dear reader, and may you enjoy your stay. I do know this work is quite long. However, I couldn't bear to strip it apart. Thank you and enjoy.

~Stay Crispy

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tales of Arkhosia: Loyalty, Royalty, & Casus Belli

_Whoosh!_Heskan ducked his head in time for a huge corroded falchion to barely soar over him. Keeping his head low, he followed with a hasty swing at the orc's legs. The huge beast clumsily parried the swing with a clang, which barely nicked its thigh. Heskan used the distraction to push himself deeper under the orc's guard. The brute overlooked the scratch and raised its sword to prepare a heavy strike.

Heskan took the opportunity to swipe at the defenseless underside of his adversary. The bastard sword cleaved easily through the orc's stomach. With a howl the orc slumped to his knees and attempted to hold in his insides. Without hesitation, Heskan swung his sword horizontally before him and cleanly decapitated the mewling creature, spilling foul ichor across the ground.

He didn't have time to celebrate though, and Heskan could already see two of the beasts were charging toward him. Both of the orcs had pig-shaped noses, gray-green skin, and thick matted hair. They wore a variety of worn leather, molting furs, and clanking bone trinkets. Their gear was old or makeshift. Although they were shorter, he knew from experience that their stockiness made them as strong as him. Heskan noted they smelled of blood, human blood if his senses were correct. As they howled, he wrinkled his snout at the odor of rotting fish.

One of the orcs, who wore a gruesome necklace of skulls, came careening toward Heskan. The beast bellowed as it swung its blade overhead. As it closed the gap, the creature leapt at him. Before it could swing down, a stream of fire arced over Heskan and engulfed the orc, igniting it instantly. As the fire subsided, the dragonborn's senses were filled with the reek of burning flesh and hair. The scorching beast wailed as it stumbled forward with arms outstretched toward Heskan.

The fiery orc lunged for Heskan, who immediately ducked under its burning grasp. As the orc passed Heskan, he deftly kicked at the back of the orc's knee. Heskan spun around in time to see the orc stumble from his kick. Its form was peppered with a series of crackling lightning bolts that flew into its body. The orc fell over and its charred form continued to sizzle on the ground, filling the air with the stench of ozone.

Standing bold beyond the scorched orc was a sorcerer who wielded a twisted staff. The man was pale and had a short black beard with streaks of silver in it. The sorcerer wore black robes with celestial patterns and symbols woven which seemed to shift when inspected. The man now turned away from him and faced a separate onrushing orc.

The orc barely had enough time to roar before the sorcerer pointed a single finger at the beast. A brilliant beam of dazzling colors shot forth and struck the orc in the square of its head. The orc's head jerked back as beam exited the back of its thick skull with a pop and the orc's head shattered. The headless orc slumped to the floor as steaming chunks fell beside it. Satisfied the sorcerer could look after himself, Heskan returned his attention to the other bellowing orc.

The other orc had suddenly charged with its sword low, attempting to gut Heskan. The paladin reflexively swung his shield low and bashed the weapon from the orc's hand. The orc let out a shriek of surprise as Heskan quickly followed with a diagonal slash into the beast's neck and was rewarded with vile blood sprayed across his armor.

The orc didn't fall though, Heskan was surprised as the orc grinned back in his face with blood stained tusks. He tried to pull his sword free, but it stuck fast in the orc's collarbone. As Heskan hesitated, the orc smashed its forehead into his exposed snout. Heskan's vision flared as the orc's head cracked against his. Stunned, Heskan was easily knocked over and the orc leapt onto him. Despite its wounds, the orc grappled at his throat. The thick hands pushed past Heskan's and gripped his unarmored neck.

Heskan's vision became blurry as the orc held him down by its weight. He could feel his strength fading as he continued to struggle. He could only gasp and thrash at the orc as he became weaker and weaker. His eyes stung and he could barely make out the murderous grin in the bleeding orc's face.

"Bahamut- aaagh- lend me your strength," he choked out a prayer. The orc held him like an iron vice and continued to throttle him until his ears began to ring. He felt as though a series of stones were being piled onto him as he slowly weakened. His mind went numb, it was only after he realized that, did he comprehend that his body had already gone numb and limp.

Like an icy wave crashing to the shore, suddenly the feeling of numbness was overcome. Heskan felt his muscles reinvigorated. His mind came back to him twice as strong. He could feel a potent being charge him with renewed strength. With some effort, he lifted his arms up and managed to remove the orc's grip. He gasped as he caught a breath of fresh air. As his eyes began to clear he saw he was gripping the arms of a very dumbfounded orc.

Heskan simply crushed the wrists of the confused orc. It shrieked as its bones were crunched in his clutch. He shivered as he felt another rush of draconic power flow through his spine. It was now his turn to grin and the orc looked at him with shock in its eyes.

"The Platinum Dragon demands your trial!" shouted Heskan and with that he yanked the orc close and returned head-butt with renewed force. Heskan felt the orc's skull crack like an egg against his forehead. Momentarily, he felt as though draconic horns had sprouted from his skull when he struck the orc. The orc went slack in his grasp and fell beside him soundlessly.

Heskan grunted as he picked himself off the floor. Using his refreshed strength, he easily tore his prized sword from the fallen orc. Black blood flowed along the length of the blade before dripping off the edge. He turned his attention to a remaining orc who had been attempting to sneak away from him. Heskan waved his palm at the orc.

"For your sins, Bahamut demands your blood!" he yelled and a burst of light flashed from the Dragonborn's palm as he casted his mark. "Bahamut himself will strike down you if you attempt to flee from this challenge!"

Marking was one of a paladin's most basic spells granted by his god, and it linked the paladin to his mark in a divinely guaranteed duel. Attempted escape by either party would be severely punished. The orc attempted to turn and run, but cried out as silver bolts stuck him from all sides.

Heskan could see panic in the beast's eyes as it turned to face him. It seemed to understand the mark Heskan had placed on it bound them together in some way. The thought appeared to terrify the orc.

It hesitantly drew its tarnished falchion and roared its own brutish challenge at the paladin. Heskan knew it would be much more dangerous as the orc fought like a cornered animal. There would be little honor in cutting down such prey, but Heskan's duty demanded he do it anyway.

Heskan wordlessly shouted as he assailed the orc. The orc roared back as it charged. A resounding clang emanated as the two blades clashed. The orc ducked as Heskan made a quick swipe at its throat, and Heskan dodged nimbly from a blow that would have severed his arm. Their blades met again and Heskan took the opportunity to fling his shield off his forearm. It spun from his arm and stuck firmly into the ground.

Heskan quickly gripped his bastard sword with both hands and adopted a two-handed fighting style. The orc continued to attempt to bash away at Heskan's defenses, but even the occasional blow that could have injured him was deflected by the angled plates of Heskan's armor. The orc however, wore rotted leather armor that Heskan was able to make repeated slashes through.

As they continued to fight, the orc started to bleed from a dozen or so small cuts. The orc's was rapidly weakening and Heskan decided to end the dual as honorable as he could. He raised his sword high to present an opening to the weakening orc. The tiring orc swung at the opening exactly as Heskan predicted. Heskan quickly dropped his swing and sliced cleanly through the orc's forearms offered before him. The orc howled as it pulled back its arms and shook its bleeding stumps.

Heskan swiftly stabbed through its chest and the orc's face contorted in pain. He twisted the blade and pulled it free. A trickle of blood oozed from its chest as the orc toppled over into the dust.

With the battle done, Heskan took the opportunity to survey the carnage around him. They had been traversing through the forest when they had been ambushed by several orcs. Judging from the number of sizzling orcs lying about, Cristo had finished the others while he had been busy.

"Come on old friend," the sorcerer said as he gestured at Heskan. The man lifted his black, wide-brimmed hat from the ground and smoothed back his dark hair. "After a disastrous ambush like that the orcs won't be bothering us for kilos. It'd be best to move on before they regain their numbers."

"Right behind you Cristo," Heskan replied. Despite his words, Heskan stopped to behead each fallen orc. It was his duty, not his honor, to decapitate every foe they fought. Heskan was strict adherent to responsibility, and not even the annoyed stares of Cristo would rush his obligation.

Cristo lowered his staff and waited impatiently nearby. He continued to watch as his guardian walked up to another corpse. The dragonborn bowed his head in prayer at the next corpse. Cristo observed his old friend carefully, although he bore the same name, his childhood friend had changed greatly in their years apart.

The years of warfare and prayer would have worn down most people by now, but instead Heskan's red scales and red reptilian eyes shone healthily despite some substantial scarring. Even though Cristo had recently celebrated his 23th birthday, his dark hair and trimmed beard were starting to show signs of graying. He couldn't help but blame his unorthodox magic was the cause of his aging. Heskan slashed his blade down and an orc head rolled by Cristo. He just sighed deeply as he thought of his younger years.

Afterward, Heskan took a moment to wipe his sword clean. Both of them strode ahead deeper into the thickening forest. "Cristo, I hope you still know where we are going."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"We're not lost!" Cristo cried out indignantly, even though his face betrayed his confidence. He lifted the front of his robes as he stepped over a fallen log and strode forward, straining to keep his composure.

"That's what you said an hour ago when we lost the trail, and the hour before that," Heskan replied. He folded his arms and watched his ally with a disapproving reptilian gaze. The sorcerer was having a difficult time attempting to navigate the forest undergrowth in his long black robes. Despite the foolishness of the attempt, the dragonborn had to give the sorcerer some credit for the attempt. His friend's instincts were usually right about these things. However, Heskan wasn't about to risk his life on a human's instincts.

"I still know where we're going. Even after you dropped our map in the river," Cristo said, placing extra emphasis on Heskan's fault. He stopped to pick up his tall wide-brimmed hat, which he had lost attempting to vault another log. He looked down on it thinking of the dead man he took it from. With a shrug he replaced it on top of his head and kept moving.

"Hey, I didn't see you jump in the river with me to try and retrieve it." Heskan shot back. Cristo readjusted his robes and belt and continued on without looking back.

"I told you it wasn't worth risking getting my scrolls wet. Anyway I said a guide would be better than that flimsy devil," Cristo calmly replied while using his staff to poke around the undergrowth for any snares. He already had a few nasty experiences from hunter's traps in this forest. "Also, who was the one who fished you out of the river with this thing?" Cristo added, indicating to his staff.

"Well no matter the reason, we are lost now," Heskan sighed and leaned against a tall pine. He watched his partner with curiosity, and wondered how anyone could be so stubborn. Cristo stopped and shrugged.

"Perhaps you are right. Now we are lost," he admitted. He turned around and noticed how Heskan had stopped some distance behind him. The tall dragonborn just stood there with his massive arms folded across his chest.

If Cristo had to guess, he would say that Heskan was almost two meters tall, which was about average for dragonborn. Both his plate armor and his deep red scales glinted in exposed sunlight giving him the impression of an angelic brutality. Cristo chuckled to himself how appropriate the analogy was for his associate. He struggled to make his way back though the thorns to the disapproving paladin.

"Our next course of action should be to climb one of these trees and look for mangroves," Heskan looked the tall pines up and down, "Baron Cicerio said we would find Crossway Watchtower in the swamp east of Rivsire Fields." Cristo simply glanced at the tree and chuckled.

"I'll start a cooking fire while you get on that," Cristo spoke as he started collecting fallen branches. Heskan nodded and started stripping his heavier gear. It only took him a few moments then he had his plate mail, steel kite shield, and bastard sword in a pile besides the tree. He started off slowly, by placing his weight on only the heaviest of branches, but he sped up as he remembered a technique he learned as a hatchling. He grunted and strained as he moved his bulk up into the tree. Heskan was light by dragonborn standards. A hard diet of trail rations and tough hiking kept him beneath the 300 pound norm. It was only a few more minutes before he reached high enough in the pine forest to spot anything of interest.

He stopped and shielded his red eyes against the setting sun as he scanned the horizon. Heskan could already smell Cristo tending to some of his remarkable cooking, but he shook his head to stay focused. For several minutes, he peered out past the vastness of the forest into the distance and could see familiar trails of smoke from the north.

"Not quite what I wanted, but it will do," Heskan whispered to himself and started the careful journey down. When he got to the bottom he saw Cristo stirring some brown paste for their meal. The meal looked and smelled delicious. It was perfectly roasted wild turkey which Heskan had caught earlier with a javelin. Despite the appealing sight and smell of the meal, Heskan noticed Cristo's brow was furrowed with disappointment at the meal.

"Is something the matter?" Heskan inquired "If not, I'll take some right away." He grinned with anticipation and tasted the air with his thin, flickering tongue.

"Well yes, something is very wrong." Cristo answered and Heskan's heart dropped. His disappointment must have shown because Cristo was quick to add, "It's nothing really, however this sauce is supposed to be white, not brown. No matter, we'll just skip the sauce." Cristo unceremoniously dumped the offending sauce aside and served up their meals.

"Excellent as usual master chef," Heskan complimented and quickly scarfed down the salty meal. Cristo delicately cut into his meal and nodded silently in response. He glanced at the top of the tall pines.

"See any mangroves?" Cristo asked as he leisurely enjoyed his meal. He always loved it when people enjoyed his work, but the haste that his companion would finish annoyed him slightly.

"No, even better. Smoke," Heskan responded, he wiped his mouth with the back of his palm, "There must be a town, not more than 20 kilos from here to the north. They must have another map of the region." With that Heskan finished his meal and started picking his teeth with his extended talons.

"Or even a guide," Cristo pointed with a slight grin. Heskan shook his head.

"You and your damnable guides. As your protector and friend you have to run all candidates past me," he said grinning back, then he stopped smiling, "Another thing. You know my rule: no elves." Cristo rolled his eyes at the comment.

"You need to get over that scam artist back in Klifton. They all aren't fast talking backstabbers you know," Cristo sighed. Heskan wasn't having it tonight. Besides the strenuous battle earlier, Heskan was exhausted from a long day of hiking, his impromptu swim, a hard tree climb, and now his belly was warm and full. Heskan simply laid out his bedroll.

"Wake me for my watch."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dawn broke overhead and streams of light filtered out of the tree canopy onto the two adventurers. Heskan closed his eyes and smiled. Even though he was warm-blooded, he still enjoyed sunning himself in the morning to invigorate him. He loved to sit as the lovely caress of the Spring sun warmed his scales.

In addition, dawn was the precise time for him to perform his daily prayers. He bowed his head and in the sunlight whispered his thanks and appreciation to Bahamut, The Platinum Dragon. He had followed his patron deity ever since he had been summoned to temple and never looked back. With his eyes closed, he drew his sword and slowly anointed blessed oils onto it and then on his sacred icon around his neck.

Heskan slowly traced the shape of silver icon. While he wore the icon, Heskan felt as though his actions were guided by Bahamut himself. Even though he knew The Platinum Dragon had other matters to attend to, the weight served as a reminder duty to justice and protection. He felt the familiar shape of dragon head which had a single verse written on it in draconic. Heskan began muttering the 41 sacred verses of his patron. He finished by opening his eyes and reading the final verse off the inscription of his icon, "Ever righteous, but always loyal."

He replaced the icon in his tunic and inspected his heirloom sword. The bastard sword, Nogktar, had been passed down his family for untold generations. He ran his scales across the silvered edge of the blade, still as sharp as the day it was forged. Along the hilt there was another inscription written in a draconic script so ancient he couldn't truthfully read it. However, his family always told him it was an ancient proverb for loyalty. He shrugged and slid the sword neatly in its sheath.

After he completed, he stood up and shook the his old friend awake. The sorcerer got up and drearily rubbed his eyes. He cursed under his breath about being woken up from some wonderful dream and took a moment to collect himself.

After a few minutes Cristo started sorting through his materials. He gathered his arcane ingredients and chanted under his breath occult words. Heskan felt a familiar charge in the air, as if the air itself crackled with energy. He simply leaned against a nearby tree and pulled out his trail rations as the sorcerer prepared his spells for the day.

He crunched on dried fruit without a word as he watched Cristo paint the air with streams of purple sigils that seems to squirm. Cristo took several minutes to prepare but after a snap of his fingers the sigils disappeared. He stood up, started gathering his belongings, and motioned for them to leave.

"North it is then," Heskan pointed ahead as he slung his gear onto his back. They picked up their equipment and spent the next few hours navigating their way through the forest.

They stopped several times to draw their weapons whenever they heard an orc howl in the distance. They would stand ready for several minutes. Both of them would wait with pounding hearts, ready for action. And every time nothing would happen. Cristo seemed right about one thing: the orcs were leaving them alone, for now. They made good progress except for the occasional snares.

Cristo had stopped several times as a trap triggered in front of them. Heskan saw more than he was used to, which included one that was a net which would have pulled him into the tree canopy. However, others were much more devious. One had the pair dive flat as darts filled the air from unseen tree holes. Heskan inspected one and confirmed that they would have been drugged.

The last one was the simplest and most terrifying to the duo. Cristo had been walking ahead while using his staff to detect any traps, when suddenly the floor opened beneath him. He slipped and started to fall forward suddenly. Cristo had just enough time to see the wicked spikes littering the bottom of the pit before Heskan grabbed him. His quick reflexes had saved Cristo's life, however they were both very quiet afterward. Neither of them wanted to think about what would have happened if they had lost their oldest companion. Despite all the traps, Heskan and Cristo were able to find a pathway in forest which was heading the right direction.

"It's a miracle we made it out of that forest of death," Cristo exclaimed, looking pleased at the trail. It was the first thing either of them had spoken since he had nearly fallen into the spike trap.

"Indeed, but we should still be alert," but despite his words, Heskan looked a bit more relaxed after stepping onto the path. They continued to cheer up the further they continued down the trail.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Now if you make me one more offer that's even a copper too low, I'll split your_fine wares_ in half!" said a voice ahead on the path.

"That is no way to do business sir. Now if instead you would like to look at some my other wares we could come to some agreement," a calmer voice answered from even further along the path.

"No! I'm not looking at any of your other wares if it's just your little pleasure toys again. I told you before I need serious gear in exchange for these priceless pieces, not your love potions or your damn useless guide books!" the first voice spat like venom.

"Ah, but this guide book is guaranteed to prevent any mishaps when encountering any of those nasty tendril beasts," replied the smoother tone.

Heskan and Cristo had been continuing North along the forest path for some time. Previously their walk was fairly uneventfully for the past few kilos. The path had swiftly led them out of the deepest parts of the forest and now their moods continued to improve as they got closer to civilization. However, now the pair of them could easily hear voices arguing further along the path. Heskan had cautiously drawn his sword at the first sound of voices ahead. Cristo had been quick to deter him with a wave of his hand.

"They don't sound like more orcs, now do they?" Cristo spoke, with a smile on his face. It seemed like ages ago the pair of them had left Cicerio Keep to journey into the woods and he was thrilled at the idea of seeing more civilization. Cristo knew it to be about three months, however three months of the dragonborn's sullen temperament made it seem much longer. "Just let me do the talking and you keep an eye out."

"Whatever you say," Heskan replied as he sheathed his sword. However he did rest his hand gently on the hilt, if only to keep some self-defense. He shifted his kite shield on his back so it could be easily drawn, and to help him 'keep an eye out.' It was a trick he learned on campaign, he could quickly glance at the reflective metal and get a glimpse of what was behind him. "But I will stay close beside you." He paused, "To discourage any injury from befalling you."

"Ever righteous," Cristo quoted with a smile as he looked further down the path toward the voices.

"But alwaysloyal," Heskan finished Bahamut's 41st verse as they approached cautiously. Cristo always used it slightly sardonically to bring his protector in check. Its misuse wasn't lost on Heskan, but he didn't resent him for it. Heskan knew Cristo always had their best interest in mind and besides Cristo was good with people anyway. It was always best to let him to deal with fools like peddling vendors or pompous nobles. Besides, Heskan preferred to deal with the drunks and other ill lot that offended Cristo. He cracked his toothy smile at the thought of his last tavern encounter. He told himself he would leave fewer broken tables next time though.

The pair cautiously rounded a bend on the path and instantly caught sight of the two people having an argument at the side of the road. One man was obviously a merchant. He had a large ox laden cart covered with several questionable materials which included everything from fashionable boots to simple frocks. The strange man was dressed garishly with a multicolored hat, a dark heavy coat, and black pants with thin white stripes. The human was dressed absurdly, but that only contrasted with his harsh facial features which reminded Heskan of a bird of prey.

"I will not have you spreading bad rumors of my establishment," the merchant spoke indignantly, "Besides I already told you, I don't accept pawning items."

"And I told you, these are legitimate relics from the Battle of Revsire Fields!" came the angered reply, "And you know pawn shops in towns always undercut the buyer and oversell to merchants like you."

Heskan couldn't quite identify what the other man was. He was taller than an average man, but seemed to be a strange wolf humanoid. If the dragonborn had to guess the man had to be some kind of shifter. He had a wolf's head with a black snout which was covered in the obvious signs of battle, and the look in his steel blue eyes confirmed he was veteran. He wore scale mail armor and wore a blue tabard that covered the front of his armor which depicted a family heraldry. His hands were wrapped in gauze with blood staining both palms. Black fur covered his arms and his exposed lower legs.

A wickedly sharp halberd jutted out from a pile of equipment lay at his feet. Despite its cruel appearance, it was adorned with a number of colorful campaign ribbons. Heskan also noted the man seemed to have the hind legs of a dog. Probably a longtooth shifter, the dragonborn thought with a snarl. He realized the wolf man would be much faster of foot but, he couldn't help but wonder who would be faster to draw.

"Even if I could afford these... trinkets," the merchant grimaced as he mentioned the word, "I see myself having no buyers for these useless mementos."

"My packmate Lukas gave his life carrying this banner to the top of Reaper's Hill," the wolf man shouted, he gripped the merchant by his jacket collar and held him closely, "All while people like you were curled up safe behind our shields and walls as if the war wasn't happening! You still have the right to have a home because us."

"Yes, well perhaps because of financial people like me, you still have _the rights_to your home while you were away," the merchant said with a smug look. Heskan's snarl curled and tensed up as he felt the insult hit home. The wolf soldier simply stood there, stunned, as if slapped by the man he held. The merchant spoke as calmly gestured toward Heskan and Cristo, "Now if you'll excuse me I have other customers to-"

The wolf man's fist cracked against the nose of the merchant who had insulted him and his men. The merchant gasped and clutched his face. The soldier allowed the merchant to slip away, who proceeded to roll to the ground. The wolf man spat, "That's for Lukas."

"What in the Nine Hells?" the merchant cursed as he cupped his nose, and continued to groan on the ground beneath him.

The wolf man ignored the man and turned toward the pair, "I don't suppose you know where the next town is? I have several relics I need to sell."

"Its north along this road," Cristo said a little too eagerly. It was apparent he wanted to interject during the drama, but he seemed pleased the results. Heskan silently agreed. He had no love for shifters, but to the paladin even the lowest of soldiers deserved some respect from the people they protect. However, Heskan raised an eyebrow when Cristo spoke again, "We should only be a few hours away if you wish to join us."

"That sounds fine to me," the soldier answered while collecting his gear and gripping his halberd, "I'm going go ahead and wait a bit further down the road if you wish to have any dealings with this scum." The wolf man gestured at the heap of a merchant near his feet who was busy gingerly touching his bleeding nose.

"Then we won't take long," Cristo said with a nod and a smile. The wolf man started down the path. "Merchant-man, do you carry any maps of the region? My companion seems to have lost our copy." The paladin took his hand off his sword's hilt and folded his arms. He would shrug, but sometimes Cristo just wasn't worth it. Rolling his eyes would have to make do.

"Ah well you see those I currently don't have in stock," the merchant picked himself up and searched around his inventory while still clasping his face, "Yes, I definitely don't have any left. Also allow me to properly introduce myself." The merchant stood as proud as someone with a blood streaked face could and spoke with a bow, "I am Gihome, purveyor of many fine, foreign, and erotic goods at your service." Heskan snickered as Gihome picked up a few fine, foreign tissues to clean his face.

"We will deal without one I suppose. Do you know where we might find a guide for the area?" Cristo inquired. Heskan assumed Cristo had come to the same conclusion as him: If their new traveler didn't know which direction the town was, he was as lost as them.

"Well like you said, there is a town a few kilos north. Uh, just ask around for Wilersyn. Best guide in the area. Now while you're there, how about you show off the latest in fashion with-"

"Enough! We've found a guide. Let's move on," Heskan interrupted. This delay, as entertaining as it was, had already wasted enough time and Heskan was growing impatient. Gihome frowned, turned his head, and simply waved them on while he repacked his cart for travel.

The pair walked down path and quickly caught up to their new companion who was sitting on a rock. As they approached, Heskan caught sight of the wolf soldier writing in a small black book. When he spotted the pair, he stood atop the rock and snapped the book shut before securing it in his tabard. He waved before them, "Shall we travel on my new acquaintances?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That was the only thing any of them had said for almost an hour. They traveled a couple of kilos in almost total silence. Only the springtime bird calls dared to break the peace. Their shrill notes rose out of forest at odd times. Often time, another call would answer back. Eventually the calls would transform into songs, as both birds would sing back and forth. The pair of songs would idly mix in the air around them, like an alchemist slowly pouring together two elements.

Heskan imagined that the songs were lovers' coos. He was troubled by the thought that two mates could endure being so far apart. The fact that only their voices could be shared and yet they still remained united impressed him. However, understanding with someone else's problems was different from experiencing them. Heskan shifted uncomfortably with the thought of leaving his eventual mate alone.

While it was normal for most dragonborn to be raised by a single parent after the other left after the breeding or hatching, Heskan was one of the rare few to have two parents who remained united far after conception and even his hatching. He couldn't help be feel that being raised by two parents had changed his outlook on mating.

Cristo shook him from his reverie by breaking finally breaking the silence, "So fellow traveler, where exactly are you headed?"

"I am currently following an old campaign trail for memorial purposes. Since the war ended, I've been on permanent leave," the wolf said with a shrug and adjusted his grip on his halberd, "I'm simply waiting for the day my pack has need to call me back. However, currently I am expecting to meet old friends at the Rivsire Memorial."

"That's quite a coincidence because we are headed over to Crossway Watchtower which is just past Rivsire Fields. The patrols have gone silent so we were sent to investigate," Cristo replied, "We could band together for now." Cristo had a hopeful smile on his face. Heskan gave Cristo a dirty look. He wasn't pleased with the amount of information Cristo was releasing about them.

"That sounds agreeable," the soldier simply answered.

"So you actually fought at the Battle of Rivsire Fields then?"

"Yes, my pack had a small battlegroup there assigned as skirmishers and scouts. However, that didn't stop the brass from assigning us roles at the frontlines." The wolf man shook his head, "Not that we lacked the courage or ferocity, simply the numbers to replace our losses."

"Sounds fascinating, I would really be interested in hearing more. Why just in the last tavern we heard plenty of songs and tales of shifter efforts during the war," Cristo's face displayed genuine curiosity. He always had a knack for memory, especially when it came to exchanging stories. Heskan sometimes joked that if the human hadn't followed his sorcerous calling, Cristo would have walked the path of the bard. Cristo would shrug and would say that maybe he still could.

"Yes, well my people have quite a knack for melodies," the shifter said with a smile, "But you should be somewhat cynical, as they also have a knack for exaggeration like any race."

"So you really are a shifter? I haven't heard of one as unmixed as you since the Longtooth Rebellion," Heskan spoke for the first time. He took another look at the wolf man. Most Shifters were descents of man and abhorrent were-wolves. Such an unholy marriage would only result in a strange misshapen race that were savage and resembled malformed humans far more than the resplendent wolf dominated figure before him. Only the canine Longtooths and feline Razorclaws had developed into a true race out of the obscene mess. Heskan could even see how some people could find this shifter's form attractive, however he took no interest in males.

"I see the name of my pack is still tainted with great tragedy," the Shifter grimaced and lowered his ears, "My pack does its best now to regain positive recognition with the most people nowadays. We thought our support in the last war would help, but it seems we gave our lives for naught." He fretfully adjusted a banner hanging on his halberd.

Cristo nervously looked at their new companion, while Heskan clenched his fist. It was true. The Longtooth Pack was infamous for their actions during their rebellion over 150 years ago. It was the shameful night of their uprising that they summoned unknown hordes of unholy were-wolves to assist them in the attempted genocide of Heskan's and Cristo's peaceful home city of Wake. They had waged destruction on the town and killed every member of the royal family, not even the five-year old dragonborn heir was spared along with countless other innocents.

Heskan's own temple of Bahamut was involved in the futile defense of Wake. He had ancestors who had been there at that fateful night. They had stood there shoulder to shoulder with town guard, the royal pike guard, and even militia. However, like a tidal wave engulfing a war ship, the wall of steel was crushed under the masses of unclean abominations. It took years before the city was purged and decades until it was re-inhabited to its former population.

Cristo might joke about how Heskan held a personal grudge against elf kind, but he did not know just how deeply the Paladin's outrage was against were-wolves and to a lesser extent the Shifter race. Even Heskan's heirloom bastard sword served as a constant reminder to the horrific night. His great-grandfather Elyze Icesword had wielded the Icesword heirloom sword Nogktar, which was trimmed in pure silver, during the futile defense. The dragonborn's heritage was filled of heroism, while the shifter's was blackened by shame. Heskan ran his scales across the loyalty proverb inscribed on the hilt. He could almost feel the blade calling for blood.

No one had spoken anything since and they had continued to walk in silence. Cristo knew of the story behind Heskan's sword. It became obvious to him that the shifter could guess Heskan's temple. Cristo could feel the animosity growing between two warriors as the horrid generations-old conflict, like a waking basilisk being revived back into the present. Once again it fell to him to break the uncomfortable stillness.

"So I didn't introduce myself, I am Cristo de la Quartz, travelling sorcerer and scatterbrained companion to my scaly guardian over there," Cristo announced with an over-elaborate gesture to Heskan as if introducing him to royalty.

"I go by Davyn Longtooth, warlord of the Longtooth Pack," the Shifter answered back without looking at Cristo. He gestured to Heskan. "And who might I have the pleasure of addressing?"

"Heskan Icesword, dragonborn paladin of our lord Bahamut," Heskan answered proudly and Davyn raised an eyebrow. They strongly grasped hands. A foggy memory slipped into his mind and allowed him to ease slightly. After unclasping, Heskan was once again reminded how Cristo was better with people. "I am aware of very few shifters involved in the last great war. I too was at the Battle of Rivsire Fields, just a young trainee then, but I must say there is something familiar with your name."

"I think you might have heard of the very young Lieutenant Davyn who led the Longtooth Pack breakthrough of the goblin offensive on midsummer's eve?" Davyn paused, "I was also but a budding leader then."

"Yes that's the one," Heskan raised an eyebrow, "Then you are the very lieutenant who led that charge?"

"The very same, I've got the scars to prove it," as if to prove a point, Davyn scratched a nasty scar across his arm. Heskan recognized it immediately, goblin short sword. He had a similar one across his calf. The dragonborn hated to admit it, but he was actually impressed. Davyn continued, "I do believe I may have heard of you as well."

"Really?" Heskan looked intrigued now, "What would the shifter people talk about a young paladin anyway?"

"Well, it's just a rumor mind you, but there is a story of an Icesword who lifted an ogre off one of my packmates and tossed it some with some godly strength or something," Davyn met Heskan's scrutinizing gaze.

"Bahamut deemed it so," Heskan shrugged, "How is Palamon doing anyway?"

"He's long since recovered. I'm expecting to meet him at the Rivsire Memorial. I'm sure he wouldn't mind seeing his savior again."

"Then I won't disappoint. I was honestly surprised to see a shifter joining the assault on the ogre front. After all ogres are much tougher than your average goblin."

"Ah but ogres are so stupid," Davyn spoke as he imitated the gait the lumbering brutes. Cristo laughed lightly as he went on, "The goblins were the crafty ones, and they filled the fields with pits and snares. Often times they would pop out of holes and bombard you in the back with black bolts." He suddenly looked soberly and muttered, "They got poor old Franz that way."

"The little bastards are quite a pain I must admit. By Bahamut's breath, one of them even managed to get the jump on me and give me this scar," Heskan pointed to an old scar along his calf.

"That's nothing, I got this beauty from an ogre," Davyn indicated to a long slash along his snout.

"I thought you said you fought goblins?" Heskan raised an eyebrow.

"Palamon wasn't the only headstrong one joining the charge in with your front," Davyn answered with a grin and Heskan replied with his toothy smile. In spite of Davyn's problematic lineage, Heskan couldn't quite but slowly like their new shifter friend.

"Well I got this one from the map we lost earlier," Cristo held out his thumb for them to inspect. Heskan laughed and Davyn couldn't help but chuckle. Yes, it seemed Cristo had an effect on everyone. Occasionally, even Heskan wasn't invulnerable from his antics.

"It's hardly a killing blow. It's barely a flesh wound," Davyn laughed. Heskan's hand glowed a chill blue as he waved his hands about in a mock mystical rite.

"Shall I lay on hands for my fallen comrade?" Heskan asked and with that the entire group was laughing. Eventually their laughing slowed, but Cristo was satisfied with the way things were turning out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They had continued walking with chatter for some time. The three had passed through the forest at a pretty quick pace. Cristo had calculated that they were about an hour or two from the town. Davyn was telling them another story about the war.

Cristo couldn't help but feel a bit giddy about their new companion. He didn't know if he was imagining things, but he felt as though the attractive wolf was attempting to charm him.

"Cristo you might want to get your staff inspected next time we're in town," Heskan idly stated, "or perhaps consider a replacement. I'm sure a brand new polished staff would do wonders for your magic."

"I think my halberd could definitely use some polishing," Davyn grinned at Cristo, "Don't you agree. The problem is it's too big."

They locked eyes for minute before Cristo looked away as fast as possible. As unsubtle as Davyn was, Cristo had turned crimson for a moment. The entire thing was lost on the dragonborn.

"Polishing a bladed weapon is senseless," Heskan said cluelessly, "The extra glint of metal only serves to give your position away at night or while sneaking through the woods."

"I do enjoy a bit of sneaking about, especially at night," Davyn once again turned toward Cristo's blushing face. That went on for quite some time. Cristo wasn't sure if Davyn was just joking with him. Cristo tried to change the subject to magic before the paladin caught on.

"Often times, after a battle I'll need to take rest," Cristo added, "The chaotic nature of my arcane powers is really taxing. Also it passes the time while my reptilian companion attends to his post-battle prayers anyway."

"I was wondering how you kept your good-looking figure," Davyn looked the flushed sorcerer up and down, "All that beauty sleep must pay off. However, don't expect much rest around me though."

Heskan was mindlessly crunching on trail rations as he hummed some prayer to himself. Cristo started wondering if the paladin was intentionally clueless, but then the dragonborn startled him.

"If you spend all that time sleeping, why do complain that my prayers take so much time?" The dragonborn sent pieces of food airborne as he exclaimed his confusion.

"Because, whenever I sleep on the ground I start feel bugs crawling on my body. It rattles my nerves."

Davyn opened his mouth to make another joke when he suddenly shot up his arm to halt. They stopped walking and began looking around. Heskan's hand dropped to his hilt and Davyn gripped his halberd tighter.

"You heard that right?" the Warlord whispered while scanning around. Heskan nodded silently in response and slowly drew his sword. Cristo looked around anxiously while the others prepared themselves for whatever was lying in wait.

"What is it, I didn't hear-" Cristo was cut off by another voice.

"Your money or you lives, it matters not to us!" a feminine shout barked out from ahead of the trail. Further along the path, a group of five men and a female elf emerged out of the tangled undergrowth and stepped onto the path. They were grinning viciously and drew worn sabers and brutal clubs. Cristo glanced behind them and saw three more men and a male elf had appeared behind them.

"Thieving elves, never trust them," Cristo heard Heskan muttered to himself as they looked around them.

"We have no quarrel with you. Let us pass and we will be on our way," Davyn called out. Heskan grumbled something about cowardice and elves that Cristo couldn't quite make out.

"These woods belong to the Banshee Queen," the elf woman ahead of them called out, "And I demand tribute." She stood taller than Cristo, but much thinner and had long brown hair which swept past her emerald eyes and over her leather armor. "You are trespassing and will pay the fine." The bandits slowly started encircling them. The men held their cudgels and blades threateningly and chuckled through broken teeth.

"We will pay no such unmerited due!" Heskan pointed his sword at the bandit queen and fiercely warned, "Step aside at once, unless you wish to invoke my wrath." The bandits halted their advance and glanced nervously at each other.

"I am most displeased," the false queen called out menacingly, "Leave your possessions by the road or we'll be forced to take it from you." The elf placed her hand on a worn scabbard. They weren't the best prepared bandits Cristo had ever seen. He couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for them, especially one young lad behind them who didn't seem sure of himself.

"Let's solve this civilly," It was Cristo's turn to speak up, "I'm sure we can find some sort of agreement." Heskan gave him a dirty look and Cristo shrugged. He looked to Davyn for approval, but the Shifter had his gaze locked on the bandit's 'queen'.

"I won't ask again," the elf said firmly. She gripped her hilt and motioned for her men to advance. Cristo saw Heskan loosened his shield on his back and grip his sword with two hands. Davyn held his halberd steadfastly beside him. The bandits had closed the distance around them.

"Then you've made your choice," and with that Heskan spun around and stormed at the group behind them. He hefted his sword and sprinted at the youngest man. Heskan slammed his armored shoulder into him. The disarmed the youth wheezed as was sent sprawling into the floor. Heskan turned then to face the other bandits, "Bahamut slays all thieves and bandits!"

"Longtooths! Redemption through glory!" Davyn snarled as he wasted no time either, the Shifter dashed to the nearest bandit. Using the hook on the back of his pole-arm, Davyn swept out the man's legs with a yank. The bandit cried out as he stumbled. The warlord followed up with a quick overhead swing and struck the man's chest before he could hit the ground. He was instantly rewarded with a spray of blood as the heavy blade splintered through bandit's ribcage. The man lie shrieking on the floor as the halberd split him open.

Dayvn jerked his pole-arm free with a grunt. He was about to finish the man, but he was forced to block a swing from a blade that zoomed at him. He looked at his new attacker and saw the elf leader hacking at him with a mad series of blows. The Shifter focused on defending from his new assailant. He was managing to most blocks, but the elf kept getting an occasion scratch. It was obvious the elf was much faster and would wear him down over time.

From the corner of his eye Davyn saw another bandit dashing at him. He could barely hold off the elf queen, any other attackers would quickly overwhelm him. The warlord braced himself for icy touch of steel in his side. Instead he continued to feel the debilitating effects of numerous cuts and jabs.

He was continuing trying to parry the elf's onslaught when he heard a sharp crack beside him. He sniffed the air which stank of burning flesh. But even after some time, he felt no flanking attack hit. Davyn risked a glance back to the nearest bandit and caught a glimpse of a roasting body that multi-colored smoke arose from.

Cristo lowered his smoking staff. Cristo had seen the bandit attempting to interfere with Davyn's duel. The warlord looked like he was struggling enough so Cristo decided a simple Chaos Bolt would be sufficient assistance. It was one of his humblest spells. The multi-colored bolt had sailed from his staff and cracked into the flanking bandit's chest. The man had flown to the ground convulsing as unnatural flames erupted from within him.

Cristo took the opportunity to glimpse the scene in behind him. The youth behind him laid still in a heap from Heskan's initial charge. Heskan himself was busy fending off two attackers in a flurry of steel, meanwhile an elf simply stood bored nearby waiting to join.

Cristo was about to bolt the smug elf out of spite, but noticed three more bandits about to pile on Davyn. With a hint of worry, Cristo dropped his staff and hastily weaved his hands to prepare one of his most advanced spells. Arcs of white lightning started to flow around his fingertips and the stench of ozone began to fill the air.

"Witness your doom!" Cristo screeched as he thrust forward his lightning soaked hands. His shout echoed as a sheet of lightning shot at the bandits. With a crack, it struck the first who fell to the ground juddering, but the overwhelming power flowed past to crash into the other two.

A torrent of electricity flooded from the sorcerer's trembling hands and continued to bombard the men. Cristo's body began to shudder as he held the spell. As the crackling continued, he felt his vision grow faint and he felt his gut begin to seize. Despite the growing sickness, he sustained the spell for as long as he could. The nauseating smell of burnt flesh mingled with the strong scent of ozone.

Finally Cristo clenched his hands and halted the spell. Where there had been three bandits, only a few blackened, twisted corpses remained. He grew faint and fell to his hands and knees. The sorcerer heaved as the arcane energy passed through his system. He knew he had done what he could to protect Davyn. He continued to choke and gasp as he felt a warmness begin to drip along the side of his head. Cristo knocked his hat off to gently touch his warm, sticky ear and held a bloody hand in front of him. The dark hat fell beside him and he could barely hear Heskan's battle cry before he lost consciousness.

"The Platinum Dragon breathes tonight!" and with that Heskan opened his jaw wide toward his attackers. They didn't have time to react as a jet of flame erupted from his maw. They screamed and withered as they were consumed in the blaze. The paladin gradually shut his mouth. Before him lie two scorched bodies with skin that ran like wax and oozing with bubbling fat. Even Heskan's stomach rolled at the stench.

The stunned elf behind them stood gaping at the destruction. The elf looked like he was about to flee when Heskan stole the advantage by waving his open palm to mark the elf. A pulse of white light flashed from him toward his mark and the paladin closed his eyes as he raised his head, "With Bahamut as my witness, I will strike you down sinner!"

The meaning of the oath slowly dawned on the elf. He unhappily drew two finely wrought blades and took moment to reminisce about them. After, the elf simply nodded grimly and dropped to a fighting stance. Heskan equipped the shield on his back and gripped Nogktar tightly.

They clashed at the echo of ringing blades. Heskan was stronger and his blows carried far more weight. He used his strength to his benefit and hammered away with strikes that even made his hands sting. However, the elf was much nimbler and his quick swipes could occasionally make it through Heskan's defenses.

The elf skillfully dodged an ending blow and stuck both his swords under Heskan's armor. The Dragonborn winced in pain as the blades dug deep into his sides. A dribble of blood dripped from his plate armor and onto the ground. The elf would pay for that, Heskan was sure he would pay.

With the elf so close, he was helpless to the paladin's shield as it soared towards his head. He attempted to dodge, but the corner of Heskan's kite shield sunk deep into the elf's cheek. Heskan wrenched his shield free which removed several teeth and exposed a gaping hole in the side of the elf's face. He followed by kicking the shocked elf in the chest. Heskan's clawed feet tore at the elf as he tossed the delicate figure away. However as the elf flew back, it ripped a sword free from Heskan's gut.

The paladin dropped his sword and bent over with his hands on his knees. His mouth tasted of copper as he blanched out thick, warm blood onto the ground. He knew that wasn't a good sign and it seemed the elf had actually given him a serious injury. He unsteadily raised his head to look back at the elf.

The once elegant frame was now a hunched, bloody figure that was slowly making its way back to him. The elf held its single slick blade above its head and its green eyes were filled with murder. Heskan grit his teeth as he gripped the matching blade in his side. His pulse pounded as he prepared to pull the sword free. The dragonborn roared as he twisted the blade free from his bleeding side. In his bloodied state, Heskan felt his fury rise to new heights.

He clashed blades again with the elf, but this time with renewed ferocity. The elf was weakening with every swing. He could see how much more powerful the dragonborn had become. Heskan swung with more and more effort, each strike was meant to end the battle.

Despite his wounds and fierceness, the paladin was still skilled swordsman. He dropped his guard and allowed a strike to hit him. He roared as the elf gladly took the opportunity and stabbed him through the shoulder. Victory gleamed in the elf's eyes for a moment as he pulled his dripping blade free.

"Bahamut grant vengeance for your martyr!" Heskan ignored the injury and swung overhead at his opponent. The wide-eyed elf brought his blade up to parry, but the paladin's borrowed blade became engulfed in divine light. The empowered blade sliced right through its counterpart and buried itself deep in the elf's chest. The elf unsteadily fell to its knees. After a moment it woozily looked down at his injury.

Heskan saw tears stream down the elf's once flawless face as it watched blood begin to pour from the cavernous slash across his torso. The elf attempted to utter something, but only single bloody bubble came out of his mouth.

"For honoring our duel, Bahamut grants his mercy..." Heskan paused as he bowed his head, "with a quick death." The paladin swiped his blade quickly, and the elf's head rolled onto the ground.

Heskan tossed the elven blade aside and picked up Nogktar. Looking around, he saw where Cristo collapsed and swiftly rushed over to him. A brief inspection informed him that the human would be fine. Heskan's hands glowed blue as he saw to his own wounds.

While Heskan had been battling the male elf, Davyn had been slowly being whittled away by his own elven challenger by an increasing number of minor injuries. It seemed now that none of his blocks were effective because, despite his efforts, a new cut would always appear here or there. The she-elf was intent of killing him, but seemed to enjoy the idea of toying with him.

Davyn felt weaker with every half-hearted swing he attempted. The elf would laugh as she danced around and gleefully repay him with a pair of new cuts. The warlord was growing exhausted and felt as though he was struggling against the inevitable.

After the elf caused a serious gash in his thigh, he felt something else besides pain. He began to feel another power that he didn't invoke begin to fill him. He was reinvigorated by a more primal power. He was familiar with it enough to know it was fueled by pain. Now that he was very bloodied, he was very much in pain.

He clenched his jaw as his canines began to grow prominent and vicious. He could feel his claws extend as his black fur across his body began to stand on end. Davyn's skin itched as his numerous wounds began to kit and mend at a phenomenal rate. His simple black tail grew bushy and his eyes changed red. As Davyn grew taller he was overwhelmed with the simple urge to hunt and kill and breed and howl. He decided to start with the howl. He lifted up his head let out a long howl that sent shivers down the elf's spine.

The elf had watched in shock as the alteration occurred. Davyn threw down his prized weapon and faced his opponent with renewed strength and claws. The elf raised her sword to fend off her transformed opponent, but the faster shifter swatted the blade aside.

Davyn speedily leapt onto the elf, which was nearly crushed to death. He let his inner beast run free with fast slashes and gnashes at the helpless elf. The elf squealed in horror as the shifter mutilated its torso. A shiver went down Davyn's spine as a primal instinct ordered him to tear the figure apart.

The shifter voraciously attacked the elf with his jagged maw. He gripped the elf's throat with his teeth. He yanked his head back and it tore free with a sickening ripping sound. The bloody shape beneath him stopped moving and his desire grew sated.

Davyn lifted himself up off his mess and slowly licked the blood off his muzzle. He turned around licking his paw until he was face to face with Heskan. The blood-stained paladin held his a sword at the warlord's throat.

"Are you in control?" The dragonborn's reptilian eyes glared at him intently. Davyn winced as he noticed the paladin's sword was silvered.

"Yes, I am always in control," the shifter lied. In fact, he was fighting the desire to attack the armored shape before him. The paladin slowly lowered the offending sword. Davyn felt his body being to itch again as his form began to change back. He always hated how uncomfortable shifting always made him.

"Let me heal you," and Heskan raised a palm that glowed with blue light.

"It's only a few scratches that shifting will regenerate." Heskan nodded approvingly and turned from him to face the bodies. Only then did the warlord noticed Cristo was lying in a heap nearby. He let out an audible gasp as he rushed over to his side. The warlord had seen the power Cristo had unleashed to defend him from being overwhelmed. "Quickly, we have to help him!"

"For what?" Heskan didn't look back, but raised an eyebrow at the shifter's reaction, "I already looked him over, he knocked himself out when he overloaded his spell."

Davyn let out a sigh of relief as he turned Cristo's unconscious form to face him. He blamed himself for letting Cristo overexert himself to protect the warlord. Blood had streamed down the sorcerer's ears and covered his hands. Davyn gently ran his hands through Cristo's greying hair. Davyn was a bit confused about his age. To him he looked younger than 30, but his hair suggested he was much older.

Heskan turned to him and the shifter quickly stopped stroking the sorcerer's hair. Davyn made an effort look like he was busy with other matters. He looked around and found where the sorcerer's hat had fallen. He picked it up and looked at it from a few different angles. It was a simple black, wide brimmed hat with a belt and buckle wrapped around it. It seemed vaguely familiar. He would have to ask him about it later. "I'll focus on getting myself and Cristo cleaned up while you... continue whatever it is you're doing."

Heskan swung his blade and decapitated a corpse. "Death rites," He simply stated and looked at the confused look on the shifter's face. He wiped some blood off his forehead.

"Right," the shifter said unconvinced. He pulled out his waterskin and dampened an old rag. He slowly traced the rag across Cristo's face as he began to clean the blood. "I suppose its normal for every follower of -is it Bahamut? - to behead their fallen enemies?"

"Yes, I follow Bahamut, and no it's not normal," Heskan said with a sigh as he swept another head clean off. Now Davyn was really confused. Heskan really didn't want expand much further, "It's a rite my temple adopted after Longtooth Rebellion in Wake."

Davyn slowly nodded. He cursed himself for somehow always bringing that topic back up. He should have realized why Heskan had hesitated. Also Davyn just learned Heskan probably had family from Wake. Bloody brilliant. With the damage already being done, he decided to push deeper anyway, "So what exactly does this rite do?"

"Well as you know, were-wolves are quite durable, and my people learned many hard lesson's those years," Heskan swung and another head rolled on, "They had a nasty habit of regenerating their wounds after a battle and later getting back up to keep fighting. People eventually realized that a were-wolf without a head wouldn't get up."

Heskan paused to inspect some of Cristo's handiwork. The blackened corpse before him was twisted as though some unimaginable power had coursed through it. Of course the sorcerer had gone a bit overboard, he had been known to do that since they were kids. While Heskan had been considered the strong reserved hatchling, Cristo was known as the outspoken sociable one. Somehow they made a perfect team.

"So you behead them as a habit from your temple's were-wolf fighting days?" Davyn continued to clean Cristo who was looking much healthier now that the blood was gone. However, Cristo smelt a bit like wet dog and Davyn couldn't help but blame himself.

"More of tradition then habit, but yes I suppose. We are the only temple that does it as far as I know," Heskan beheaded the blackened corpse before continuing, "It has had its other uses too. Good for fighting all sorts of monstrosities and undead. Not the worst habit for us in the long run." Davyn nodded in agreement.

Heskan found the shifter's sincere curiosity in his work surprising. Especially considering it involved Wake. It was strange to him that two people with their backgrounds could still cooperate. Realization struck Heskan as he realized that Davyn had been hard at work to carve his own linage to bring 'redemption through glory' as the shifter had said in his battle cry.

However, he did notice he was giving Cristo some odd special attention. He couldn't help, but think something else might be going on. Cristo would call him paranoid, but that didn't stop him from being watchful.

"Bahamut's breath!" Heskan cursed loudly enough for Davyn to hear.

"What is it?" Davyn looked up from tending Cristo to see Heskan standing over a collapsed youth. He seemed barely older than a boy. They could both tell he was still alive.

"The damn boy is still here and breathing." Heskan rubbed his forehead, "I was hoping after I knocked him down, he would do the sensible thing and run away. It seems I may have knocked him out instead."

"What are you going to do with him?" Davyn's face betrayed his concern. Even though the boy was with the bandits, it was obvious to him he was probably forced to join them.

"It would be dishonorable to slay a helpless person, let alone a boy." Heskan sheathed his sword and inspected the youth, "I didn't manage to break anything."

"Do we abandon him here or let him accompany us?" Davyn resumed tending to Cristo.

"We can't trust him enough to have him join us," Heskan bit his lip as he looked at the limp form. "I'll leave him with my extra waterskin and portion of food."

"The moral and sensible thing to do. Excellent idea."

That was the final step it took for Heskan to finally convince himself of Davyn's good intents. He himself had little love for the lesser kin to his most hated enemy. However, he always had room in his allies for truly honorable warriors. He got the impression that Davyn put genuine effort into restoring his pack's name. If the Longtooth Pack had truly changed and was filled with Shifters like him, Heskan could withdraw his fury. Then he could save it solely were-wolves, and maybe the occasional elf.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cristo had woken up dazed moments later. His heart pounded as stared into Davyn's eyes. Davyn just sat still holding the sorcerer's head and gazed back. Cristo raised a hand and traced his hand across the battle-scarred muzzle of the shifter.

It dawned on Cristo that Davyn must have taken care of him while he was unconscious. They just sat there in their own little world. Or they would have, it Heskan hadn't started calling out he had finished his prayers. They blushed as they hurriedly stood up and returned to the paladin.

After a moment they resumed their walk in idle chatter. Heskan and Davyn traded old war stories while Cristo wearily joined in with the punch line. Eventually they had walked the last few kilos and could see the smoke of the town in the distance. The spring trees had all but disappeared as they entered an open plain. They saw the high wooden walls with patrolling guards and as they continued the path's condition slowly improved.

From what they could see of the town it looked relatively small, maybe around a hundred or so could live there. It had a rustic look to it, with many wooden buildings and high angled thatch roofs. Heskan noticed the houses were on wood stilts, probably for the rainy season.

Heskan found that oddly reminiscent. In fact as they proceeded down the path, he could have sworn he had traveled this road before. He spotted a collapsed barn which had several distended alfalfa fields fenced off. A worn wooden gate in front of the barn read Tarner Ranch in bold capital letters. He still couldn't quiet seem to recall why it struck him as familiar. The entire situation gave made him strange feeling that he had been here.

They could eventually smell cooking fires from the houses once they got closer. It made Heskan's stomach growl in anticipation. He was usually pleased when they entered town, the thought of warm food and cold ale brought his spirits up greatly. Not even the reality of cold food and warm ale could dishearten him. About three months of wandering had given him quiet an appetite, even if a growing familiar sensation made him slightly suspicious.

Once they approached the town walls, the guards allowed the trio to pass without incident. As they passed through the gates, one of the guards shouted back, "Welcome to Klifton!"

Heskan frowned as he paused. He recognized the name of the town. It was exactly the same place where the elf swindler had left him for broke. He was usually very smart with his hoard, and he couldn't quite remember why he could have trusted someone so shady with his gold. Heskan was prepared now and promised to look about for his deceiver. He would be sure to repay the elf with harsh vengeance.

Heskan wasn't the only one ruminating on a bad experience in Klifton. Cristo had also frozen in place and was now engrossed in recollection. A wave of uneasiness passed over him as he idly traced the large brim of his black hat. Just there, he could feel the patch of stained blood that belonged to its prior wearer.

Davyn looked at his companions with curiosity as they were lost in their own thoughts. Heskan massive frame simply stood there tensing his hand on the hilt of his blade. Davyn watched him and could spot the evident veins along his forearm and hand. He turned his attention to Cristo who was absent-mindedly stroking the brim of his hat. Davyn could just make out an old bloodstain that the sorcerer appeared to be picking at. He was sure that Cristo had taken it from someone, but he was curious about it. He had intended to ask him about his hat earlier although, from the shape of the hat, he a reasonable guess about who could have been its original owner.

Davyn patiently waited for both of them shake their thoughts. After a moment they returned and he motioned for them to resume walking along the path. Heskan released his sword and strode forward. Cristo followed and he removed his hat. He wiped his forehead before replaced it. Davyn stayed close and put the sorcerer between him and Heskan in attempt to safeguard him from the source of his discomfort.

They walked along a large cobble path which traveled around the town. It weaved between the wooden buildings in all directions and led to the center where a stone fountain was displayed. To their left were a Dwarf smith and his apprentice working hard at creating tools and weapons for the townsfolk. The apprentice worked the bellows of the forge, while the artisan hammered rhythmically on his anvil. Their walls were lined with gear that Heskan would have to examine later.

A colorful marketplace lay further beyond them. Loud vendors were hawking their wares at passer-byers from behind their market stands. They carried all manner of materials from foods, to clothes, and even fine jewelry. Heskan watched as children ran through the streets. They nearly knocked a young couple down who were inspecting a butcher's products. The butcher raised his hand and yelled out as the children ran passed.

There came a resounding peal of a bell signified a church and at the end of that street, Heskan could just make out the shape of a small church as it stuck six' o' clock. Its pale blue bell steeple rose far above the town. It was surrounded by the forms of smaller houses and the streets were filled with townsfolk. Heskan realized just how sorely he underestimated the town's population to be.

Heskan caught sight of Cristo studying a book store to their right. The store had shelves full of books and had display cases with scrolls inside. Cristo would no doubt want to stop there later.

The town was at a slight upward slope from the main gate and at the top of the hill Heskan could see what looked like a baron's residence. While the nearby buildings were plain, the mansion was ornamented with stained glass windows and had large pillars supporting its massive top story deck. Heskan imagined from there one would be able to see the entire plains surrounding the town as well as the local inhabitants.

Heskan glanced at Davyn and grinned at what had captivated his attention. Davyn was looking at the end of the street where a group of young tieflings were staggering out of a doorway. A window was broken and several pieces of broken tables and chairs lay in a heap next to the building. It was apparent that people had been sick on the streets. He could hear the loud calls of drunks, the maidens calling out orders, and the angry shouts of the inn's owner. Heskan could smell cheap ale and stale food. It was the closest smell to home now.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Heskan grunted as he collapsed heavily in the worn wooden chair. The seat protested with a creak, nevertheless it held firm as the dragonborn shifted his weight in the chair. He dropped his bags and shield beside him, but kept his sword on his belt. He rapped his knuckles on the bar table twice as Davyn took a seat across the small table.

The shifter also dropped his gear beside him and started scanning the inn's barroom. He spotted the gnome innkeeper standing behind the counter, organizing the chaos of barmaids and a single barman. The barmaids swiftly traveled the room delivering mugs of ale or brandy to thirsty patrons who sat at similar tables and booths. A dwarf barman was also busy at the counter serving specialty drinks or filling taps and handing them off to barmaids.

Davyn watched as Heskan waited impatiently at their table and would occasionally rap his knuckles on the table every time a barmaid would get close. A pair of barmaids swiftly walked past them holding pairs of mugs.

Davyn could see the paladin's irritation was starting to rise. He simply placed his elbows on the table and rested his head on his hands. Davyn started to feel like he made the wrong choice by waiting with Heskan at the inn instead of accompanying Cristo. They had agreed that Cristo's people skills would work best without two heavily armed and armored bodyguard's following.

The paladin hadn't been too pleased with the idea of letting the sorcerer wander around town, but Cristo assured them both he could take care of himself. At least now that Cristo was out searching for that 'Wildersyn' person or whoever it was as a guide, Davyn would have the opportunity to talk to Heskan alone. With Cristo gone for now, he could easily question his new companion.

Now, however didn't seem like the best time to ask the cursing dragonborn about anything. Davyn realized he would have to solve the drink problem first. Davyn lifted his head off his hands as he stood up abruptly and ignored the look that Heskan gave him. He strode quickly across the room, and also passed the looks of bar patrons, and walked directly up to the gnome innkeeper.

"My companion over there and I are thirsty and we carry gold. We pay well and might even be persuaded to rent a room or two if you act quickly," the shifter spoke diplomatically. The gnome studied him for a second before barking back an order and motioning for two barmaids to serve food and drink.

"Name's Will Oman," the innkeeper spoke with a grin, "and that will be 30 gold for two rooms and food. We'll keep a running tab on your drinks." Davyn felt like he was overpaying, but all he knew for sure is that he was losing valuable time while Cristo was away. The shifter handed the gnome his gold and in return Will handed him two keys with room numbers on them.

The warlord hurried back to their table where he found Heskan was already enjoying the newly delivered breads and meats. As Davyn sat down, the barmaid had just taken Heskan's orders and left. The paladin was busy nosily scarfing down some bread, so Davyn helped himself to another plate of food at the table while they waited for their drinks to return.

"Nice work getting this taken care of," Heskan nodded approvingly as he continued to make his food disappear.

"It wasn't too difficult," Davyn shrugged, "Also I got us two rooms for the night." With that he handed Heskan a room key marked 7 while he held onto the one marked 8.

"Very nice work indeed. I usually let Cristo handle that sort of thing." Heskan took the key and jabbed himself accidentally as he slid it into his pocket.

"I figured. Thought I might go ahead and help him out." Dayvn really wanted to ask Heskan about Cristo right away, but the lure of a decent meal was too much. He decided to ask after their drinks arrived. The warlord raised an eyebrow as he waited for their drinks, "What did you order us anyway?"

"Oh you'll see," replied the dragonborn gave a toothy smile before returning to his food.

After a few more moments both of them finished their meals and they set aside a dish for Cristo. Davyn was sloping forward again on the table while Heskan was busy leaning back and picking his teeth with an extended talon, when their drinks finally arrived. The barmaid placed four mugs on the table and Heskan handed her a few pieces of silver. Heskan pushed two mugs to Davyn and raised the other two toward him.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Heskan raised an eyebrow at Davyn, as the shifter skeptically raised his own mug toward his face. He gave it a cautious sniff and was rewarded with the overwhelming grassy smell of hops fill is mouth. It didn't smell too bad actually, much different than his people's typical malty brews, but still not too bad.

The shifter noticed the dragonborn wasn't drinking yet, but instead studying him intently. With a shrug, he mustered up some courage and took a deep swing. The warlord was right about it being a bit grassy, but it was frothy and went down smooth. He went ahead and took another big gulp.

"Well that's not too-" Davyn froze, he could feel a burning sensation in his gut. It was building rapidly and his face easily betrayed his reaction. Heskan read the look on his face and gave him a predatory smile. The shifter responded with a weak smile and a small burp. It had burned his mouth as it came up. He realized the drink was way too acidic, much more than anything he ever drank.

"So what is this?" Davyn managed to cough out.

"Hand's St. Vrain Triple. Old family favorite back at Wake." The dragonborn wore a toothy smile as he turned to fond memories.

He was a little hunched over by now, but Davyn watched in fascination as Heskan looked careless as he threw back the whole mug in one long drink. The dragonborn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and started grabbing the other.

It dawned on Davyn that the Dragonborn was playing him. Davyn wasn't going to let him win that easily. With some effort, he took his mug and followed the paladin's suit by downing the whole thing. This time it didn't burn as much, well not too much at least. Heskan chuckled, but seemed impressed while Davyn stifled the urge to choke as his insides were scorched. With the diversion done, the both of them turned to their last drink and nursed it down silently.

"So what's the story behind Cristo's hat," asked Davyn apprehensively. Davyn had finally decided to ask while capitalizing on Heskan's improved mood. Heskan's eyes snapped to him.

"Why do you want to know?" Heskan had been enjoying his new companion's company, but immediate flare of distrust passed though him. He slowly lowered his drink and narrowed his eyes on the warlord.

"Well Cristo seems oddly attached to it, and from its shape I think it was once owned by a-" Davyn was cut off as Heskan sharply waved his hand before him.

"I don't want to know. Don't tell me something that I would have an obligation to act on." Heskan's bemused attitude was completely gone now, and was replaced with a sterner than usual demeanor. If it turned out Cristo's hat actually came from... well if Heskan's worst fears were true, it would mean he would be forced to deal with his lifetime friend.

"Are you sure, I mean it looks like-"

"Enough!" Heskan slammed his tankard and startled some of the nearby patrons. "I told you I don't want to know anymore." The warlord was starting to try his patience.

"Yeah, yeah... Ok," Davyn conceded and returned to his drink. After another moment Heskan stopped glaring at the shifter and relaxed slightly.

Several moments passed again in silence before Davyn garnered enough courage to try a different tactic.

"But did _you_ever ask him about the hat?" Heskan gave a resigned sigh and leaned back. He seemed to peer deep into his drink, avoiding eye contact with Davyn.

"Yes, I did. Only once."

"And? What exactly did you ask him?" Again Heskan responded with a sigh.

"I asked him two questions. One: Did he kill the previous owner."

"Did he?" Davyn squirmed in his seat with uneasiness.

"He told me yes." Davyn paused for a moment and took it in. One of his worst suspicions was true then. If his guess about the hat was right, then he would look at the attractive sorcerer in a very different light. Still an attractive light though, he thought to himself. Something still bugged him though.

"And? What was the other question?" Davyn was intrigued from what he had learned so far, but still needed more.

"I asked Cristo if the man deserved it." Heskan's eyes remained unfocused on his drink.

Davyn stayed silent this time. He patiently waited for Heskan to continue, but when he didn't, he pressed again, "And? Did he?"

"He said yes." This time the paladin refocused his eyes on his comrade across the table, "He said yes."

Davyn cleared his throat, but didn't quite know what to say, "What about-"

"Which is enough for me." Heskan returned to his drink without another word.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Almost ten more minutes passed in silence. During that time, neither Heskan nor Davyn looked at each other. They simply drank their beers in silence. They had already finished their first drinks and had ordered a couple more by the time Cristo finally arrived. The sorcerer returned to them with a grimace and was followed closely by tall, lithe figure.

"Uh, I found a guide Heskan..." Cristo's voice trailed off.

Heskan glanced up from drink and stared at the figure in disbelief. Before him stood a graceful, female figure who promptly took a seat next to him. She brought her cruel emerald eyes close before his red ones. His reptilian eyes traced the familiar features of her face, and stole a risky glance at her bosom. Her smooth, raised cheekbones and pointy ears easily marked her as a wood elf, while her small breasts brought forth a yearning from deep within his own. Heskan's mouth dropped as the realization hit home.

"Well hello again Heskan," the thief said playfully, "I figured it must have been you Cristo was warning me about, so I put on a little something special just for you." She grinned devilishly. Cristo did his best to noiselessly take a seat next to Davyn.

Heskan was speechless. He simply stared, dumbfounded, at her figure and felt another pang of desire pass over him. He let his eyes wander across her svelte form. Heskan gulped as he realized she had in fact worn something special for him. Her tight leather bodice held her pale, perky breasts high and proud on display. While Heskan was admiring her short skirt, she seemed to permitt him a closer look by widening her legs noticeably. His heart skipped a beat as he glimpsed the outline of her familiar purple panties.

"Jannlyn, whu- what are you doing here?" Heskan's mouth went dry as she placed her hand on his knees.

"Oh well, you know. Your partner mentioned you needed a guide and as you know," she paused to lick her lips, "I'm always up for helping out a friend in any way they need it."

Heskan's mouth tasted like cotton. Jannlyn had caught the vigilant paladin by surprise and he was struggling on his back foot. Heskan strained with effort to regain a straight face.

"It's been some time..." This time it was Heskan's turn to trail off. He pushed her hands aside, "But I distinctly remember last time you left me unconscious and broke."

"Oh Heskan babe, that was almost five years ago. You really hold a grudge don't you?" She gave him her most innocent smile, but Heskan only stared at her pitiless eyes. He considered himself somewhat of an expert at reading people, but he couldn't quite remember how he could have fallen for any of her guile before.

Then he remembered.

"You drugged me." It wasn't a question. Cristo shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Davyn had placed his drink down and was watching with interest. Finally he worked up the nerve to speak up.

"Do you want us to leave you two-" Davyn was cut off as Jannlyn unexpectedly stood up.

"That won't be necessary. It seems my old admirer isn't interested in any more of my company." She covertly pushed her breasts together and gave Heskan a wink before she left them, "Be seeing you boys."

Heskan's eyes burned holes into her back as she left the inn. Davyn returned to his drink and called for a few more. He had a feeling they would need them. Cristo noticed the plate set aside for him, but spoke up first.

"Err, sorry about that Heskan. She was the only one I could find." He bowed his head meekly and began picking at his food.

"No, it's not your fault. I knew we should have all stayed together," he returned to his drink before continuing, "I will never forgive her though. If you hadn't found her yet, I would have gone searching anyway. At least I know she's still in town."

"Aren't you going to lose track of her now?" Davyn cut in. "I mean she did just leave, you could catch her for... whatever it is?"

"No it's fine. She would just be expecting me to chase her down and trap me," he shook his head and reached into his pocket, "We should watch out for her though. You know last time she robbed me for every last copper-"

Heskan froze. The Paladin calmly took his hand out of his pocket before slamming it on the table. Cristo stopped eating and Davyn held his flagon still.

"Heskan did she just-" Cristo was cut off by Heskan's uproar.

"That bitch!" He was nearly speechless with rage, nearly. "She just robbed me! Again!" Heskan's temples were visible as he whipped up his shield and jumped right out of his seat. Without another word Heskan dashed out of the inn, making quite a commotion as he knocked into chairs and pushed people aside in his haste.

"Honestly I should have predicted that." Cristo bowed his head. "I really screwed that one up." Davyn placed down his drink.

"No, no she caught us all unaware," he comforted the sorcerer, "By the Nine Hells she just robbed the most cautious of us all."

"Yes I suppose," Cristo kept his head bowed.

"Should we go after them? We could toss our things in our room first."

Cristo shook his head, "No, I can tell Heskan wants to deal with this on his own. He would probably just get pissed at our interference." Cristo paused before continuing, "So what do you want to do now? We'll probably have the night to ourselves knowing Jannlyn."

Davyn replied with a warm smile, "Well I do have a few ideas."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Heskan came careening out of the inn at full speed. The paladin slung his shield across his back and roughly pushed a young couple aside as he flew past them. He ran toward the center of town while scanning both sides for any sign of his quarry.

Heskan's clawed feet tore at the cobbled roads and kicked pebbles behind him. Up ahead he saw a large crowd leaving the church and merging their way into the streets. The dragonborn growled with frustration and picked up his pace. He must not let the prey get away.

Up ahead he glimpsed a familiar slender figure hustling through the crowd. The paladin pumped his arms as he gave chase. He abruptly met the throng of people and accidentally slammed into a man. The man swore as he went sprawling onto the ground. Heskan cursed and quickly helped the bruised man up before continuing his pursuit.

His pace slowed as he weaved back and forth through the crowd. Again he caught sight of a figure wearing a tight leather bodice. The female turned around and spotted him. They locked eyes for a second before Jannlyn turned and fled.

"Bahamut take you," Heskan swore as he resumed his hunt. The dragonborn had been gaining on her, but she was much more agile and seemed to slip further and further away.

Heskan pushed aside a gnome and half-orc that raised fists at him as he ran past. Jannlyn was much further ahead now, and Heskan's keen eyes spotted her as she turned abruptly into an alley way. The chill air of early spring was burning his lungs and throat.

Heskan was out of breath by the time he turned after her in the same passageway. He slowly began to scan the dirty bins and waste. The paladin walked through the alley cautiously, but when he reached the end, he saw no sign of her.

"Bahamut's breath," he cursed and kicked some garbage aside. The dragonborn scanned the next entire alley before continuing. Well he figured she would lose him, but he hoped to follow her for much longer. He slumped with his hands on his knees still a little out of breath.

Heskan cursed again as he turned to walk back. His head was hung low and he tightened his shield on his back. The paladin turned through the end of the alley and made his way through another. Well, at least once he got back he could finish that beer.

He picked his way carefully through the alley as his thoughts wandered back to the inn. The dragonborn would have to keep a watchful eye on the Davyn. Something about the shifter gave him the impression that he wouldn't give up so easily when it came to learning about Cristo's hat.

Heskan stepped over a pile of refuse out in the backstreet and continued on his way. As Cristo's protector, the dragonborn might have to put some space between their new companion and his childhood friend. He made another two turns in the backstreets before he realized he had become lost.

He cursed to himself for getting distracted. The dragonborn usually had a good sense of direction, but he somehow got himself lost anyway. He scanned the unfamiliar buildings around him for some sort of landmark. However, the dirty passageway walls had nothing but boarded up doors and alleyway trash.

Heskan sighed and simply stood for a moment. The dragonborn would have to calm himself and think clearly to find the way back. The growing stench of waste continued to break his concentration. The paladin remembered his training and closed his eyes to he focus.

Heskan let his other senses flow freely and allowed them to fill his mind. He felt a cool breeze passing through the alley brush over his scales. It unfortunately carried the reek of sewer, but also another smell of cheap booze. It was familiar like from a bar or tavern which made his mouth water. As he focused, the sound of dogs barking was easily heard, but with more effort he could hear youngsters laughing in the distance. Then he heard a cry in the distance.

"Help! Anyone!"

He abruptly opened his eyes. That wasn't a normal cry. Quickly the paladin looked left and right, searching for the sound's origin. Then he heard the cry again. This time he could tell it was distinctly female.

"Please, somebody!"

Heskan sprinted down an alley to his right without hesitation. The paladin, expecting battle, slipped his shield loosely on his back so he could see behind him. He was usually much more cautious, but something in the voice told him how urgent it was.

He followed a path of twisting and increasingly narrow backstreets until he came to intersection. The paladin paused for a moment and closed his eyes again. After a moment of concentration his eyes snapped open and he confidently resumed his way.

This time when he reached the end of the alley he found a much larger intersection where he was greeted with an alarming scene. He saw four crooked men and a grubby dwarf wielding a wicked hammer. They all had short swords on their belts and their stained clothing reeked of night soil. The five of them turned from the collapsed form of a feminine minotaur who appeared badly beaten. She reached out toward the paladin with pleading eyes and mouthed the word 'help.'

Heskan visibly snarled and swiftly drew his sword. The five brigands looked from their prize to the newcomer. They cackled mercilessly as they drew their swords. The dwarf even had the gall to kick the downed woman before facing him. Heskan took a mental note to make sure that one would pay dearly.

"Why dun' you jes scamper off beck to w'ere you came frum," the dwarf spoke in broken common as he waved his hammer in the air.

"Leave the girl now or you all pay." Heskan secretly hoped to himself they wouldn't flee just yet. The dragonborn was still pissed with Jannlyn's escape and now seemed like a good opportunity to vent.

"Oh, aren' dose tough words frum a wee stray lizerd," the dwarf chortled, "Me and my boys 'ere dun' like stray lizerds, any more t'an any ott-er darty outsid-ter."

"If you don't like me, why don't you just make me leave," Heskan gripped his sword tightly and prayed to Bahamut they would try. He really, _really_hoped they would try.

"You 'eard 'im boys," the dwarf raised his hammer forward, "Le's show tis foreigner some Klifton hospal-ity."

Heskan's heart flew almost as high as his blade. He roared wordlessly as he charged into the pack. With a swift chop his blade dug deep into the shoulder blade of one of the robbers. He was rewarded with an inhuman shriek and a bright spray of blood. He kicked the wounded man off his blade and turned to deflect a clumsy blow.

The bandits piled up on him, swinging careless blows that were easily deflected. The paladin, on the other hand, swung purposefully and struck true. He parried a swing and brought it sharply through a man's arm. The limb flew through the air as he continued his onslaught.

Another man tried to sneak behind him, but Heskan spotted an outline on his shield and spun around in time to block the blow with a single steel bracer. The blade buried itself in his bleeding forearm where it stuck itself firmly. Heskan grit his teeth as the blade cut deep. However, he repaid the dumbfounded man by stabbing him under his ribs. He tore Nogktar free and a steady flow of gore followed until the man collapsed like ragdoll.

One of the bandits wore a horrified expression after watching his comrades be cut down so brutally and swiftly. Heskan quickly recognized the look and was about to mark him before he could flee, but the paladin was forced to dodge as the dwarf swung his massive hammer at his armored knees. He swung back, but was forced to dodge again as the hammer came careening towards his skull.

By the time he recovered he saw the remaining man had picked up his crippled companions and was fleeing. Again, Heskan raised his bleeding arm to mark them, but again the dwarf was keeping him too occupied. He managed to block low, but his hands stung as he parried the mighty swing.

He looked away for a second time to see the brigands had only left the gutted man and the dwarf behind. The dwarf seemed to have no intention of fleeing, but his stinging blows were making this fight tasking. He was going to have to end this quickly before he was worn out.

Suddenly, the dwarf turned a slow horizontal swing and quickly reversed it, bringing the back of his hammer straight into Heskan's armored snout. Blood squirted from his nose as his visor crumpled under the force of the blow.

He coughed and choked as the stunning blow connected with his forehead. The paladin collapsed to the floor and his sword slipped aside. He blindly thrashed on the floor while he struggled to remove the ruined helm.

Heskan cringed as he waited for the inevitable killing blow. His mind began to race with thoughts of all the deeds and journeys he would never complete. He would never find his brother or speak to a messenger of Bahamut. He would never find the lost throne of Arkhosia or discover the next Golden One to sit upon it. But more importantly, he would never meet his true mate and never show her to his parents. He would never spend an evening in the mountains with her, or see any of his children hatch. Tears began to mix with the blood flowing from his face as watched his dreams vanish.

"Bahamut... protect me," he whispered out a final prayer as a massive crack rocked his ears.

Heskan felt nothing.

Nothing and continued to feel nothing.

Nothing changed.

His snout was still warm and sticky from his blood. He still felt a blade biting deep into his forearm. Even his stomach still ached from the crap he had forced himself and Davyn to drink earlier.

The world was still besides his pounding heart. That is, until he heard a thud beside him. He took a moment and carefully pried his wrecked helm and tossed it aside. The paladin wiped his eyes clear and saw his savior.

The beaten minotaur girl gave him an almost embarrassed, sweet smile. She stood tall over the unconscious dwarf and held her own bloody, bronze warhammer in one hand. Heskan was struck as he saw her for the first time, and she was truly beautiful. The cowgirl's tawny fur hide covered almost all of her, from her cloven feet up until her cute pointed horns. Her crystal blue eyes shone brightly and she was giving him a serene look.

She seemed like she was about to say something when her smile faded and the minotaur girl, like the strings to a puppet had been cut, collapsed at his feet. Heskan sat there opening and closing his mouth in disbelief.

It was several moments before Heskan composed himself, but then he sprang into action. First the checked his savior, after a few seconds the paladin was able to pick up a faint pulse. Heskan let out a sigh of relief and thanked Bahamut for his mercy. He picked up Nogktar and took a quick glance around the alley to make sure it was still abandoned before moving onto the bandits.

Thanks to the dwarf's effort, the robbers had managed to withdraw with all of the wounded. There was still an unconscious dwarf and a dead disemboweled man he had to deal with though. Heskan's honor prevented him from slaying a helpless foe, no matter how vile, so he would leave the dwarf to wake with a nasty headache. He went to the dead man and preformed a hasted ceremony before beheading the remaining burglar.

Heskan sheathed his sword as he went over to inspect the minotaur girl's bags. He swore as he searched for any medical supplies, but she didn't appear to be carrying any. The paladin saw the fallen bronze warhammer beside her, figuring it to be hers he tossed it with his ruined helm into her bag and hefted it onto his back.

Heskan needed to get her out of the alley and somewhere safe. The dragonborn grunted as he grabbed her under her arms and hoisted her onto her shoulders. A familiar jab in his pocket informed him that he still had the room key Davyn had given him. He shifted his grasp to a fireman carry and when he was ready, started hurrying back to the inn.

It took several minutes for him to navigate out of the backstreets. Heskan considered himself to be heavy at just under three hundred pounds, but he groaned as he adjusted the weight of the minotaur girl. She was almost as tall as him, but seemed to weigh the same or even more. Heskan was forced to pause every occasionally to close his eyes and focus at the task at hand, navigating his way to the main streets.

Eventually, he was back into the brightly lit plaza. He ignored the growing number of stares he was attracting, but continued on his way to the inn. The dragonborn shifted the minotaur girl's weight again as he weaved his way through the watching crowd.

Heskan was walking past a couple of gawkers who started hurling insults. Heskan, anxious they might assault him, quickly hurried his pace. They didn't give up so easily, they started following him, getting closer and closer as he struggled to carry the heavy woman. One man got with arm's distance and was about to shout at his face, but the dragonborn snarled fiercely and bared his teeth. The blood drained from the man's face and the group of gawkers slowed down until they left him.

The paladin could finally see the inn, he just hoped that Cristo and Davyn were at the same table. He pushed his way through the wooden doors and his heart dropped. The paladin saw his table abandoned, but a piece of paper was folded on it.

The dragonborn ignored the stares he was attracting from patrons and strode over to read the note. He skimmed it quickly:

Heskan,

Paid off our tab and took Cristo to the bookstore. We will be going to the blacksmith's after. Tossed all our gear in Room 8. Also the innkeeper says that drink you ordered us is almost poison. We'll be back at the inn later.

-Davyn Longtooth

Heskan cursed to himself. No matter, he was surely capable of protecting her by himself. He had done a decent so far he supposed. The dragonborn shifted her weight again before heading upstairs to the rooms. The paladin was bombarded with lewd comments and shrill whistles as he carried the unconscious girl to his room.

"That's one way to end a date!" "You're not supposed to knock her out _before_you go up there!" "From those marks she likes it pretty rough huh?" The last one was followed by a chorus of laughs. Heskan was embarrassed and irritated at the same time. The dragonborn was tempted to turn around and teach them all a lesson, but grit his teeth and quickly found his way into his room.

Heskan set her down carefully on the straw mattress and let out a sigh of relief as he dropped her bag onto the floor. The paladin locked the door and stood beside the bed to overlook her resting form. Her battered body seemed peaceful now that she was more comfortable off his jostling shoulders.

He took several minutes to carefully observe her injuries. She seemed to have nothing worse than large bruises and scrapes. The paladin sighed with relief and was confident none of wounds were critical. He took one hand and gently stroked a large lump on her shoulder. Her face physically winced and he carefully pulled his hands back and observed her face. She was dressed in a pale green shirt and black tights which presented her firm figure.

Heskan had been immediately certain that she was beautiful when he saw her, and now that he carefully studied her face, was certain she was. Her soft features easily distinguished her from male minotaurs and her light blonde hair swept over her serene face. He traced a finger along her smooth, short horns.

The dragonborn smiled as he examined her cute bovine ears. They seemed to flutter softly when he accidentally exhaled near them. Heskan took up one of her hands and held it to his own. He discovered that minotaurs had one less digit then the normal dragonborn four fingers.

The paladin decided to put his distraction aside and set to work. He closed his eyes and began to wave his hands in the air above her. Slowly his fingers grew cold and lit the room in soft blue light. Heskan could feel draconic energy filling his hands and he carefully refined it into a dragon's regenerative power.

The room grew cold as he lowered both hands onto her stomach. His breath was visible as he delicately kneaded his hands across her body. It required much more effort than his usually quick lay on hands spell, but he had the time to be through.

She would flinch as his cold hands traced across her body, but she began to settle down as her bruises began to fade quickly. Heskan's eyes remained closed, but he physically grimaced as he accidentally grazed her breasts. They weren't outrageously large, but big enough to get in the way as he continued to occasionally bump into them.

The dragonborn used his formidable strength to firmly rub across her body. His firm hands pushed and pulled, mending the battered and broken skin as well stimulating the muscles underneath.

After a few more seconds the dragonborn opened his eyes when he completed the spell. Heskan smiled as he saw almost all of her bruises and cuts had disappeared. She would sleep more soundly now. Speaking of which, the dragonborn grew exhausted. The paladin's eyelids grew heavy and he was struggling to focus his vision.

With some effort he moved a stool next to her bed. He clumsily stripped off his plate armor so he could rest in his shirt and trousers. The dragonborn grunted as he sat for a moment for a break. The paladin would stand guard over her as she slept. He sighed as he leaned from the stool to rest his back on the bed. Heskan decided to rest his eyes, if only for a few minutes...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Heskan was dreaming. The dragonborn knew that for certain. He rarely dreamed anymore ever since he began training at temple. The chaplains had always told them that dreams were false enlightenment and that they should instead meditate on ascension. Of course the paladin felt it was a load of nonsense and had grown to relish his sporadic dreams anyway.

He was far above the ground. Heskan was accelerating at terrific speed through the freezing air. The Winter wind bit his face as he flew through the sky. The dragonborn's eyes watered as he squinted through the heavenly torrent. He looked beside him to see another dragonborn. He was startling pure platinum and had a pair of draconic wings sprouting from his back.

The platinum dragonborn sped ahead of him seeming guide him. His strange kin led him faster and faster through the freezing air. The pair flew on until they reached a mountain range. It was an abnormally shaped mountain range. From the sky, it almost reminded him of sleeping dragon.

They slowly descended until they touched down cautiously on the snow-covered rocky terrain. The paladin could faintly hear a low rumbling from deep within the cave. His silvery guide had stopped at mouth of a grand cave and waved him in. The dragonborn, realizing he had no other choice, slowly entered the cave.

His breath was visible as he crept through the cave. The paladin felt his hands grow numb as overwhelming chill filled his body. From ahead he heard a grave thunderous voice.

"Why does the cold one enter my lair?"

Heskan opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes gaped as he saw a golden flame flash through the cave. The dragonborn turned to run, but in an instant it caught him and seared his body. The golden flames twisted and flared across him until he was engulfed. He cried out as the scorching blaze was rapidly smothering his existence.

It was hot, far too hot. The dragonborn was sweating as he shook with horror. But then something changed. The burning instantly subsided. Instead it was replaced by a soothing warm sensation.

Heskan's brow furrowed as sweat dripped down his snout. It was softly pushed aside by the comfortable warm feeling. The phenomena slowly traced across his forehead and the dragonborn began to relax again, the burning memory now forgotten.

The sensation traveled from his snout across his skin to his wounded arm. He felt his arm grow from hot, to cold, and then to a calm warmth. Heskan continued to enjoy the feeling as it then traveled back to his face and massaged at his temples.

The dragonborn crooned as sensation eased him gently. Heskan adored the feeling. It took him a few more moments to realize that sensations can't massage or even travel so meticulous. He suddenly became aware that he was no longer dreaming.

He gingerly opened his eyes and was greeted with a calming scene. He was still leaning back from his chair and resting his back and head against the minotaur girl's bed. She was lying on her side toward him and gently caressing his head. She began to smile as he watched her.

Heskan met her eyes and felt a bolt travel through him as he wandered in her warm blue eyes. The cowgirl blushed as she was observed by his icy red eyes. Some of her warm blonde hair was astray across her face. Heskan kept his eyes locked with her as he slowly pushed the strand back behind her ear. She was first to gather enough courage to speak.

"Thank... Thank you. Its comforting that someone like you came to help me." Her face grew even warmer as the minotaur began to speak up. He turned his chair around to face her.

"I was only doing my duty, Bahamut asks that we protect those in need." Heskan bowed ceremoniously.

She shifted uncomfortably on her side as she diverted her eyes from him and focused on the ground. "Oh, yeah... ok. I guess you help out a lot of people all the time."

"No, no. Well yeah," He softly lifted her head up, "I came to save somebody, but I knew instantly something was different with you." He fumbled with his words as he peered deeper into the cowgirl's eyes.

She seemed to pardon the misstep and smiled again, "I noticed you mended my wounds. I thought I should repay the deed by mending your arm. I also went ahead and cleaned the blood off your face."

The minotaur pointed to his forearm's new scar tissue that formed where a blade had pierced his bracer. She gave him a bemused smile before continuing, "Somehow you managed to rout those bandits, carry me across town, and even patch my wounds, but you forgot all about a damn sword lodged in your forearm."

Heskan leaned back in his chair and gave a toothy smile as he chuckled, "Yeah somehow I forgot all about it." He inspected his healed arm. It seemed reddish but was changing pink.

"Strangest thing," the minotaur furrowed her brow went on, "before I healed you, you were having some kind of flash fever. I've never seen a fever come and go so quickly."

"Yeah, it was definitely odd," he paused to recollect parts of his dream. Despite her reassuring presence, something about his dream disturbed him. The thought occurred to him that Cristo might know something. He regretfully stood up and spoke, "Sorry, but I have some friends who are expecting me. Please rest as long as you like and if you need something I'll be downstairs."

"Ok then, and thank you again," She nodded thankfully and laid back down away from him. Before Heskan closed the door, he watched her shiver and curl up into a ball silently. The door creaked closed and Heskan's heart started racing. He silently thanked Bahamut before he continuing down the stairs.

Cristo and Davyn waved him over from their old table and, much to Davyn's annoyance, took a seat in between them. Without speaking Heskan pulled a mug from a passing server and started staring deeply into it. When he looked up, both Davyn and Cristo were looking at him expectantly.

"So... how'd it go?" Cristo asked tentatively.

"She got away," Heskan spoke gruffly.

"Ah... Well that's unfortunate. Its pretty late now since you were locked up for a few hours, but if you'd like we can get up tomorrow and look for her?"

"Something more important happened."

"More important than getting payback?" Cristo shook his head in disbelief. It wasn't like Heskan to forget a grudge.

"After I chased her through the streets she led to the alleyway where there was an ambush..." The dragonborn retold what had occurred up from his fight with the bandits, the rush back to the inn, and healing the minotaur girl. He was about to talk about his dream when he hesitated. "Hey Davyn, can you get me a drink from the bar?"

"You have a drink in your hand..." The shifter's voice trailed off as he grew puzzled. Heskan downed the drink he was holding in an instant.

"Davyn, can you get me drink from the bar?" Heskan's voice grew more irritated. The shifter rolled his eyes and got up, it was clear to him that he didn't want him to listen.

"Its going on your tab," Davyn spoke under his breath as he walked off.

"Now after I fell asleep I had this dream of flying during winter..." Heskan continued now that Davyn was gone. When he was finished he sat back puzzled. "What I don't understand is why he called me The Cold One?"

"Perhaps all the coldness in your dream comes from your god? Bahamut and all platinum dragons breathe ice." Cristo hazarded a guess.

"True... but he said it so distastefully. Also there is something else, I am certain that I was speaking to the Golden One."

"No, thats not possible," Cristo leaned in suspiciously, "The dynasty of Golden Emperor's died out over a millennium ago with the fall of the Arkohsian Empire."

"Mhm, yes they did. And we also both know the last of Platinum Kings died with that five-year-old in Wake during the Longtooth rebellion."

"What if that was a past Platinum King guiding you in the dream? You said he was silver and winged. We haven't had an Avatar of Io or Champion of Bahamut in centuries."

"Well assuming this dream was real..."

"Yeah, if it was real..."

They sat in awkward silence for a few more minutes until Davyn reappeared.

"What did I miss?" Davyn spoke with forced cheerfulness. Heskan got up quickly.

"Sorry, there is a woman upstairs still that needs probably would like something to eat-" The dragonborn turned and blundered right into the minotaur girl who had just stopped behind him. Heskan cursed before remembering who it was, "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"No need to apologize," she rubbed her rubber nose slightly, "No harm done."

"Everyone," Heskan turned to the table, "This is... Well I never got your name?"

"Rivka... Druid of the Wilersyn tribe." The minotaur flushed when Heskan took her hand and kissed it softly.

"Wilersyn? We heard of a guide called Wilersyn." Cristo raised an eyebrow, "We need some help traveling to Rivsire fields and then Crossway Watchtower."

"Ah, yes I am quite familiar with the area," she paused to think. "In fact, I have been meaning to visit some of my kin around there."

"I have kin to meet as well," Davyn added, "Old friends and battle-brothers."

"From what my reptilian protector told us you are tough one," Cristo paused and steeled himself for what he was about to ask next. Heskan would not be pleased, "Would you be able to take us there? We have plenty of gold."

Cristo was waiting for a sharp stare or frown from the dragonborn, but Heskan actually looked more than pleased. It seemed he definitely wanted Rivka to stay around for some time.

"Yes, yes absolutely," Rivka waved her hands though, "He saved my life _and_took care of me when I was wounded. None of you owe me a copper. It's the least I can do."

"Then its settled. Will everyone be ready to move out tomorrow morning?" The group nodded in agreement and it was settled.

"Now, I've introduced my self to you all... I don't even know my savior's name." The minotaur waited patiently.

"Heskan of the Icesword clan, Paladin of Bahamut at your service." Heskan gave a stiff bow and made the sign of Bahamut on his chest.

"Captain Davyn Longtooth of the Longtooth clan." The warlord gave a strong handshake.

"Cristo de la Quartz. Sorcerer... Sort of." Cristo grinned.

"Sort of?" The minotaur raised an eyebrow.

"Well my protector says I could be bard," Heskan and Cristo laughed while the others looked confused. Cristo waved his hand aside, "Nothing. Old joke."

They ordered a few more drinks and continued talking to prepare for the next few days. Cristo laughed to himself when Rivka pulled out a map. After a few more hours they were shown their path and decided what supplies they would need to buy.

"So after Heskan and Davyn get back with their provisions, Rivka and I will head out. I'll be in the market for food while Rivka gathers medical supplies." Everyone nodded with Cristo. He yawned before continuing, "Then we can head out. I think we should all get some rest before tomorrow, we have a lot of work to do."

"Agreed, Heskan I'll pull give you a hand with your gear so you can put it in your room," Davyn stretched as he yawned, "Assuming you and Rivka are sharing a room." Heskan opened his mouth to speak, but Rivka spoke first.

"That's fine with me," Rivka nodded a little too eagerly, "It was because of the cold that I came down here. Also I would sleep better knowing I was being protected."

"Won't we all," Davyn said with a knowing wink. The dragonborn shrugged and the group headed up stairs where they moved Heskan's gear. They sleepily saying goodnight before closing their doors.

Rivka hopped in the bed expectantly, but frowned when Heskan pulled up a stool instead. The paladin gave a quick prayer before placing Nogktar and his shield on the floor and resuming his spot beside her bed. The dragonborn burned internally as he resisted the temptation to leap into bed with her. His insides were burning up just talking to her. Heskan would have to do something soon before his chest exploded.

"Earlier, you said I routed all of the bandits?"

"Yes, every last one of the dirty ruffians," she laid on her side looking at her savior, but stopped when he started laughing at her.

"You don't remember do you?" She stood up straight on the bed and shook her head while he laughed again. "Well the last bandit nearly got me, the dwarf fellow. I was nearly finished, but you knocked him over the head with your hammer."

She let her tawny legs dangle off the side of the bed as she gave him an inquisitive look. "I don't recall any of that."

Heskan puffed out his chest proudly, "Well it's true. Paladin's Honor: Always righteous."

"Paladins" She rolled her eyes. Much to Heskan's delight, she swelled her own chest, "I enjoy my the druid too much. Paladins seem so... restrained. I mean don't you just want to run wild?" Yes, he definitely did. He was enjoying an eyeful of her breasts as he felt a familiar growing sensation.

"Well that's new to me." Heskan recovered his focus, "I've never met a druid before, but I'm not always restrained. Tell me though, are all druids this suspicious when a stranger says you helped them?"

The dragonborn smiled as the cowgirl scrunched up her face as her mind wandered. Heskan couldn't help but give another toothy smile as he laughed again. Her irritation started to grow, "Ok, now what are you laughing about?"

"It's nothing," he mischievously avoided the druid's scrutinizing gaze.

"Nothing? Doesn't sound like nothing." Heskan turned a slight shade of red.

"Well it's just..." he covered his lap as he grew stiff, "You look cute when you scrunch your face up like that." This time it was the cowgirl's turn to go red.

"You can't possibly mean that-" She crossed her legs timidly.

"I do." Forgetting his crotch, he leaned forward and stared at her with a sincere expression.

He hesitated. Heskan had been about to kiss her, but he stopped himself.

"So," Rivka paused to narrow her eyes, "You look like you have something you want to say. Go ahead, speak up." He watch as she chewed her lip. Her lips looked unbelievably attractive.

"Well Rivka, there is something I want you to know..." Heskan trembled on his next words, "When I first saw your face... I knew instantly."

"Knew what?" Rivka's curiosity was burning inside of her as she uncrossed her legs. Heskan saw his opportunity and moved to stand right between her legs. His erection was now completely noticeable for her. Before she could react, he continued.

"You are the most beautiful girl I've ever met," Heskan was blushing furiously. With the cowgirl still sitting on the bed, he pulled her legs forward so their chests met. She seemed a little shocked, but she went ahead and wrapped her legs around the dragonborn's back. "I was wondering..." Heskan trailed off, leaving Rivka nervously biting her lip.

"Yes?" The minotaur looked passionately into the dragonborn's fierce eyes.

"Could I kiss you-" Rivka instantly met his lips. They held their embrace for several heart pounding moments. Their lips smacked satisfying at the end.

"I thought you'd never ask," she murmured in between shorter kisses. The paladin hadn't kissed in a long time, suddenly he felt like far years.

Their hands began to wander as their lips met again. Heskan was tightly gripping Rivka's back when she began to take control of the kiss. The minotaur smoothly guided her tongue to his and used it to skillfully massage and suck his thinner tongue. They spent several minutes thoughtlessly exploring each other's mouths. To Heskan it was bliss.

Eventually Heskan couldn't take it anymore, he held her kiss, but leaned toward Rivka until her back was on the bed. She protested as Heskan broke their kiss and lowered his snout to her shoulder. He flicked his tongue across her back several times. She flushed and winced at his movements.

"Don't Paladin's have vows or something?" She really didn't want him to stop, but didn't want to risk him being expelled or something. She closed her eyes and leaned back as he licked her neck.

"I don't know about other temples, but the Bahamut I know only asks for one of my swords," He paused before breathing gently in her ear, "And that sword is still sheathed."

She laughed at his horrible joke. Heskan smiled to himself as he teased her. She was gifted with perfectly round breasts. Heskan preferred smaller boobs on mammals. He always thought they were just more sensitive and much easier to manipulate. But he found hers just as easily arousing.

He was over her and he could easily reach her breasts. He slipped his left hand under her pale shirt and started gently dragged his extended talon in small circles around her nipples. Her blue eyes looked into his red reptilian eyes. Their mouths met again and he attempted to massage her mouth with his long thing tongue.

The dragonborn wasn't as skilled as her, but he tried his best. She seemed to almost laugh at his determination. The cowgirl broke off the kiss and whispered into his ear, "Just relax and let me do the kissing."

While she resumed control of the kiss, he continued to play with her nipples. He slid his other hand down onto her black tights. He gently felt the curvature of her camel toe as it tightened under his touch.

Heskan pulled his hand back to him and breathed in deeply. The dragonborn's senses were filled with her mammalian scent. It drove him wild and he slipped his hand right under her tights. She was already wet with anticipation which further excited him.

He searched around until he found her pleasure bud and then gently started circling around it. She suddenly huffed hard, and whimpered from his teasing. He smiled and brought her in for another gentle kiss.

While she was relaxed, he slowly slipped his middle finger inside of her. She was tight and damp inside, perfect for Heskan. He started out gradually pushing and pulling his finger inside of her. Then as Rivka's face grew hotter, he sped up, increasing his tempo all while teasing her breasts and receiving a passionate kiss.

Soon she was panting hard, and his pants were bulging profusely. He calmly slowed down, but she was still running hot. The cowgirl whispered in his ear again.

"Please finish," she choked out, but he continued to slow down and tease gently. Rivka begged him again, "Hurry, I'm close." But all he did was tenderly lick the soft tips of her ear.

She read him and finally gave in, "Fine, fine whatever you can do anything, but please do it. You can- oh," she paused to whimper, "Please, just hurry."

Heskan knew she was ready, but he wouldn't enter her just yet. He let up for a second to reposition over her. Heskan put her back to the wall and laid before her. She brought her hand up to her face and bit the back of her knuckle in anticipation.

The dragonborn tore her shirt off by extending a single talon and gently running it along her belly, like a predator might prepare to gut prey. Rivka shimmied out of her tights in front of him.

Heskan grinned at the sight before him. The blond cowgirl was sprawled on her back, presented in her underwear. The cowgirl had a light pink bra which firmly held her breasts and matching panties. He grinned and immediately knew that was definitely going to be his present. The enticing cotton panties looked damp and he couldn't wait to unwrap his gift.

First he started by gently unclasping the bra while giving her a kiss. When he slid it over her head, she grabbed ahold of his shirt and did the same. Perfectly round breasts lay in front of him, and he couldn't resist taking a moment to suckle them before moving on his prize.

Her breasts felt warm and soft around his mouth. He licked the little ridges and bumps sounding her nipple. She squirmed as he finished with a mouthful to suckle. He let go and the dragonborn gently ran his teeth down her ribs.

His mind grew hot as he looked at the simple damp panties. He knew immediately that he would be keeping them and had to take care removing them. Rivka tried to squirm and slip out them quickly, but Heskan wouldn't let her get out that easily.

He gently moved her hands aside and brought his face in low. The dragonborn could smell the dampness and feel the heat off of her panties. He moved his face in front of them and using his tongue, he made one large lick up to her belly. Heskan savored the moisture and relished the slightly sweet taste. It tasted divine.

Now Heskan was ready. He gave sneaking, gentle kisses toward the insides of her smooth thighs, while he pulled the panties down slowly. He slipped them past her ankles and off of her and carefully put his present off to side. Now, Heskan could work.

The cowgirl whimpered as he flicked his tongue around her bead. She gasped as he slipped a finger inside of her again and started to pump it inside of her. He alternated between gently blowing cool air on her bud, to flicking his tongue, and occasionally giving gentle kisses. He kept while pumping inside of her with his finger.

She was panting hard and her face was set red. She whispered to him, "Just put it inside. Fill me!"

Heskan breathed passionately in her ear, "Are you sure?"

"Don't worry-," She panted hotly, "I'm not in heat right now."

That was all the encouragement Heskan needed. He unceremoniously tore off his remaining clothes until she could see his gift for her. Rivka looked up to see seven inches pulsing in anticipation for her. He lowered himself over her and gave her a kiss, before he slipped into her.

His tapered penis easily invaded her and slid in without hindrance. The dragonborn cherished the feeling of his erection spreading her warm slit. He let go of the kiss and braced his arms behind her head. She locked her arms around his back and pulled closer to him. He took a moment for her to get used to the feeling of him.

They kissed again as he started thrusting into her. The dragonborn started slowly, but she begged him for more. He sped up and went deeper until he completely stuffed her. The cowgirl had seemed deep, but somehow he had managed to fill her. He sped up, going faster and faster.

The only thing they heard over their combined panting was the slapping of his body against hers. Rivka had her eyes clenched shut and started crying out in her native tongue. The exotic woman made his blood boil in passion since the first time he saw her, and now he was going to fill her. His eyes tightened as they shared one more passionate kiss, both of them knowing they were about to finish.

His body slapped even harder against hers and she started clawing at his back. Rivka suddenly clamped down on him and it was too much for him to handle. The dragonborn roared out and pushed in hard one last time, thrusting deeply inside of her. He tensed and blew inside of her. She pulled him in close and cried out as he pumped shot after shot of hot cum deep inside her. They both cried out for what seemed like ages as he fired off repeatedly into her.

Finally she loosely collapsed and he fell limp on top of her. They huffed as they looked at each other and smiled. Heskan rolled off of her, but pulled her in and enclosed her in his arms. His twitching member was still deep inside her.

Rivka gave him a satisfied lick on his snout. He pushed the hair from her eyes and nuzzled her shoulder as they started to fall drift asleep. He gently caressed her back until she fell asleep safely wrapped up like a present in his arms.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Heskan sluggishly awoke to frantic knocking on the door. He had slept dreamlessly, but couldn't help feeling like last night had been a dream itself. The paladin shifted in bed slightly and realized he was still inside Rivka. She still felt warm and comforting. Rivka was sleeping cutely, so as much as he wanted to mate again, Heskan didn't want to wake her yet.

Heskan was quietly moving some of her disordered hair out of her face, when the knocking started again. He kissed her cheek softly and regretfully slipped out of her to leave the bed. The dragonborn took two steps toward the door when he spotted her gift to him. He picked up her discarded panty and was carefully putting them in his pack when the knocking got even more frantic. He could hear someone speaking softly on the other side.

"Heskan! Hey Heskan! We were supposed to hit the town an hour ago!"

The dragonborn drowsily made his way to the door and threw it open to see the familiar shifter standing in awkwardly in the doorway.

"Hey Heskan you -" Davyn froze. Heskan glared through sleepy eyes.

"What? What is it Davyn?" Heskan glowered at him as the warlord stood there immobilized. The thick scent of the dragonborn's musk and a familiar feminine aroma filled Davyn's senses.

"Heskan, you're- you're stark naked." Davyn finally broke out of his stupor.

"Bahamut's breath," Heskan cursed to himself and slammed the door sending another gust of sexual musk into Davyn's face.

Davyn continued, "Well, when you're ready we are going to head out to town. We still need those supplies."

"I'll be ready to go, just give me a minute," Heskan spoke through the door. He spent a moment admiring Rivka's sleeping form before gently shaking her awake so they could all start their work for the day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few hour later and the whole group was armed and armored as they departed the main gates. Heskan stood in center with his familiar plate mail, and gripped Nogktar at his waist. Rivka walked on his left hand and bought some deer leather armor to replace her torn shirt and her bronze warhammer rested across her shoulder.

On the dragonborn's right, Cristo fretfully adjusted his black hat as they passed under the watchful eyes of the town guards. Davyn was shielding him in his scale mail and held his honorific halberd at his side.

"First to Crossway Watchtower. " Rivka scanned her new allies as she proudly spoke.

"Then Rivsire fields, to see old friends," Davyn peered ahead as he whispered in a hushed tone.

"Always righteous," Cristo muttered as he studied Heskan. Heskan eyed him as he finished the quote.

"But always loyal."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Author's Afterword

This, sadly, is where I must leave you dear reader. Once again I must thank my beta readers for making this possible for the both of us. I truly spread my thanks to all of you who took the time to finish this lengthy work. I hoped you enjoyed yourself as much as I enjoyed writing it. I may continue this into a series or start on another project that I've been boiling on. I enjoy any and all feedback, but comments are preferred.

~Stay Crispy