Drip-Fed

 

The northern ocean of Tacuitos was known for being a peaceful sea and the journey of the quartet was in line with that general wisdom. They set out with the retreating tide and smoothly sailed northwards. On one day, it got too peaceful, as the winds were practically still. Aside from the rowing on that occasion, the journey was predictable, quick and, thanks to Korith’s brain archive of games to play, entertaining enough.

After ten days, which was definitely on the faster side of crossing the distance, they landed south of the outpost of the Weststir Republic. The fortified position stood on a distant hill, two towers and tall walls rising against the horizon. A road connected it to the port they were settling in. A small group of soldiers was riding their way and arrived before they had fully secured the boat in the harbour.

“Doesn’t look like you’re an additional supply ship,” the head of the military group observed. He, as well as his three companions, wore heavy plate, polished to the extreme. Soldiers stationed at the Dragon Isle watchtower were among the most well-equipped and saw the least amount of combat. “Here I was hoping for some extra booze.”

“If you pay for it, I could part with some,” Joey offered, sounding like a normal human being for once.

‘Money drives a lot of people,’ Apexus thought, as he and his partners got off the ship. Whether it was because he was the largest, had the most imposing presence, or just because he positioned himself at the front, the soldier turned to him next.

“Adventurers?” the soldier asked, catching the combination of civilian clothes and expensive weaponry typical of the quest-taking lot. “What do you want on the Dragon Isles?”

Apexus considered that question for a little bit. The full truth was out, a complete lie was an option, but since the soldiers would have knowledge about the dragons in the area, half the truth was good enough. “We’ve been tasked with killing a dragon by our teachers.” That caused some raised eyebrows, so Apexus added, “I’m a disciple of Maltos.”

By now Apexus had realized that just saying the old Monk’s name made them more trustworthy by proxy. It felt wrong to use someone else’s respect. To hurry their journey along, that was a feeling he could ignore. Especially since it worked like a charm.

“Ah, the wise man of Wise Shire,” the soldier nodded and glanced between the group and the captain. “Well, I’d like to ask more about this booze… would you mind making it to the fortress and telling them why you’re here? We’d like it if you could keep the dragon murdering to the unreasonable ones.”

“Sounds like ya lot have a list or something,” Reysha joked.

“Yes, we do,” the soldier responded and shook his head. “Do you think we just sit here all day? Anyway, speak to my comrades in the keep.”

Apexus started moving before Reysha could deliver another flippant comment. A twinge of paranoia made him fly ahead and check on the situation before the rest of his party arrived. That was entirely unnecessary, though it did speed things along. By the time the rest of the trio arrived in the keep, the humanoid slime was already talking to the chronicler.

“So ya literally have a list?” the tiger girl asked, looking at the collection of scrolls around them. They laid in shelves that were aligned in the kind of diagonal grid that was often used to store wine bottles. The room was rather small, three metres wide and five deep, fitting only two of those shelves and a table inside. It was cramped in there between the four of them and the chronicler. “Or, like, dozens of them?”

“When a new dragon makes it to the isles, we usually spot that,” the chronicler answered, while unfolding one of the scrolls. He weighed the corners down with pieces of iron. “We wait for about a month, to allow the situation to settle in some way, and then scout the changes to the landscape. There’s constant war between the dragons, which we don’t want to be involved with. As long as we don’t step on their turf, they at least tolerate us. Most of them, anyway.” The chronicler looked over the list and then pulled out a few scrolls from the wall, further describing the names he had picked out. “We have agreements with a few dragons and neutral relationships with most, so we’d obviously like it if you didn’t kill any of them.”

“Preferably, I would rid the world of a malicious character,” Apexus remarked.

The chronicler blew air out of his nose, amused. “If that’s your limit, practically any of them would do. Dragons are the kind of neighbour that keep their feet down until they hear the city guard hasn’t been paid this month. Then they’ll clear out your house, just because you might own more than them.”  He placed the last of the scrolls down and checked the dates. Some of them he put back. The dragons described in them had not been sighted in twenty years, which was the cut-off line for ‘assumed dead’. “The two reasons we are safe are because dragons don’t work together and because an individual dragon will not bother conquering this place. Nothing to be gained besides scars or death.”

“I see,” was all Apexus had to say.

“Anyway, these are the dragons we’d like you to-“ the chronicler stopped, because Reysha suddenly drew her weapon and turned towards the entrance. As she stared, Apexus strained his senses trying to pick up what had set her off. “Something the matter?” the chronicler asked, nervous. Unhinged adventurers were rare, but not unheard off. The menacing black of Reysha’s sclera did not help the impression the soldier had.

Then Reysha giggled and shook her head, putting the dagger back into its sheath. “I dunno,” she chirped. “Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, you were saying?”

“…These are the dragons we’d like you to kill,” the chronicler spoke, now very eager to get them out of the fort. “Kaladar the Scarred, most of all. He’s remarkably aggressive, constantly sending followers to raid the bases of other dragons.”

“Hol’ up,” Reysha spoke up. “Followers? What followers?”

“Uhm,” Korith cleared her throat. “Did you think dragons just sit in their caves?”

“On piles of gold, ye.”

“The Dragon Isles are inhabited by various… unsavoury individuals that came here for their own reasons,” the chronicler quickly explained. “Some enter the service of dragons in search of knowledge, others for shelter from the law, some because they don’t think they have anywhere else to go. To the point, Kaladar took over a tribe in the eastern areas of the main island. Very difficult, mountainous terrain.”

“Are there any other options?” Apexus asked.

“There are Veltex, Marunar and Elehemelenarata.”

“You made that last one up!” Reysha laughed.

“I did not,” the chronicler assured. “Those three are difficult to deal with, so we’d approve of their death, but it’s not likely they’ll be replaced with something better. Kaladar is a menace. He’s the only one who likes to fight other dragons, hence his moniker as ‘the scarred’. At best that gets him killed by the hand of his own kin. At worst he succeeds several times, destabilizes the entire archipelago, and then decides to go down in history by attacking Stemfield.”

“We will hunt Kaladar,” Apexus decided. Show me where on the map his lair is.”

“Sure, you mind if I mark it?” the chronicler asked. Apexus did not, the map’s purpose was to be useful to them, and a little marker would not impair visibility for the rest of the map. The chronicler fetched a feather and red ink, scribbling a quick X.

“You should notice activity in the area, if one of you is good at tracking, you should be able to find the lair easily,” the chronicler said, while Aclysia stored the party’s map. “A tip: you will cross through the territory of a blue dragon on the way: Melios. He’s one who we are on good terms with. He will want to be rid of Kaladar as well, so it may be worthwhile to pay him a visit. If nothing else, it’ll let you behold a dragon in a safe environment.”

“Thank you,” Apexus nodded. There was nothing more to be said, so the group left the room and the fortress behind. They returned to the harbour, to talk with Joey one more time.

“Got a target?” the captain asked, watching several barrels of rum getting unloaded from his vessel. He was in a visibly good mood, having just made a tremendous profit.

“Yep,” Reysha responded. “Kaladar the Scarred, which does not sound ominous whatsoever!”

“Only someone stupid enough to make money adventuring would say that.”

“Who’s dumber, the stab-happy kitten that throws herself at giant fire breathing lizards, or the asshat that doesn’t get sarcasm?” Reysha returned with a grin.

“You,” Joey responded immediately, rolling his neck. “What colour is he anyway?”

“Does that matter?” Apexus asked.

“Depends,” Korith chimed in. “Higher dragons, those being the truly powerful ones, exhibit certain character traits depending on their colour and have different magic specializations. For these ‘regular’ dragons, though, that shouldn’t matter.”

“It matters a lot,” Joey responded, almost growling at the kobold. Although they both knew she could pulverize his kneecaps, the shortstack shrunk away from the half elf and hid behind Apexus’ leg. “Green and purple scales get sold for the highest value.”

“Why’s that?” Apexus wondered.

“They’re Weststir’s national colours,” the captain rolled his eyes, as if asking the question was indicative of idiocy. “Red would do too, but then I’d have to go to Elomestir and I’d rather avoid that.”

“Why’s that?” the humanoid slime repeated the question.

“Because I liked it when all of the ports in the area weren’t owned by Elomestir,” Joey growled. “Fucking empire builders. By the end of the decade, I guarantee that it’ll try to expand its stupid fucking high taxes to the ports I frequent too.”

“Sounds like it’s not our issue,” Reysha chirped. Whatever the political developments of the Leaf were over the next couple of years, it was highly unlikely to affect the group. Not only was Wise Shire unlikely to be invaded due to its special status, the quartet also did not plan on being on this Leaf for long enough to see such developments.

“Lucky you,” Joey sighed, unsarcastically. “Anyway, scales?”

“No idea, didn’t ask,” Reysha informed the captain, who threw his hands in the air. “HEY!” he shouted at the group of soldiers overseeing the rum-trade. “KALADAR THE FUCKING SCARRED, WHAT COLOUR IS HIS HIDE?!”

“RED!” one of the soldiers shouted back.

“SHITFUCK!” Joey cussed, all his good mood gone. “Got to do everything myself around here. Take your nutshell and go get me something that’s worth my time investment, before I decide to murder the fucker myself.”

Said nutshell was an actually quite nice rowing boat, easily large enough for the four of them. Joey refused to bring his vessel anywhere near the actual Dragon Isles. There were several dragons that would love to see what valuables the ship contained, if they didn’t want to possess the ship itself. Instead, the group had to make the hop from their current island over to the main one with one of Joey’s merchandise.

Unorthodox as it may have been, the captain was making his living by sailing to Weststir, buying small vessels, and bringing them back to the Golden Fields. Overabundant as the local grain production was, wood was in short supply. What little could be procured locally was used for houses. Boats, particularly the kind that could be used as fishing vessels on lakes and rivers, were still in demand.

One of such vessels, the quartet was allowed to ‘rent’ for the duration of their trip. “Ya know,” Reysha raised her voice while Apexus rowed with his untiring strength. “Might be worth looking into… transportable boats or something like that.”

“Logistically improbable, fundamentally, however, desirable,” Aclysia half-agreed. “A way to cross bodies of water only became more interesting now, since our flight options are now limited.”

“I could try carrying two,” Apexus remarked. “I’d have to shift my form, but I could do it.”

“What would that make ya, extra-wide ‘Pexus?” Reysha giggled.

“Someone mind explaining that joke to me?” Korith asked slowly, almost entirely absorbed by the sight of Apexus rowing. It was primitively enticing to see a shirtless man with meatgrinder abs doing repetitive manual labour. That was true for all three of the present women, but Korith was easily the most affected.

“When the big guy carries me, he usually broadens his back so I fit better between his wings,” the tiger girl responded and giggled some more. “I looks super fucking funny.”

“Regardless, I would prefer to avoid any intensive morphing,” Aclysia answered. “It will spare us questions.”

“Honestly, in a couple of years we’ll be high level enough that we can just say that he’s of an unusual Class and that’ll cover almost all of them,” Reysha said.

“Yeah,” Korith supported. “The average person knows as much about adventuring as we do about… brewing.”

“The average person is not who we must worry about,” Aclysia said and shook her head. “Those that could threaten us will know that extensive body changes are not part of a Monk’s repertoire.”

“I guess,” Reysha shrugged. She brought the topic back to the first sentence. “So, think we could cram this boat into an Adventurer’s Bag?”

The metal fairy took a methodical look at the boat, as if she was actually considering the idea. Then she responded, voice dripping with sarcasm, “I think the size of the boat may mildly outscale the ability of the bag’s entrance to stretch.”

“See, I used to think the same thing about dicks and my asshole, but then I grew up and that was a lot of fun.”

Aclysia sighed, Reysha giggled, Korith stared at Apexus’ biceps as they bulged and relaxed. “Ehem,” the kobold cleared her throat again. “So… should I take a shift rowing?”

“You have the power,” Apexus responded. “Your arms are too short. You would be like a wolf trying to tear with his paws.”

“Your weird metaphors make more sense now that I know you really aren’t normal,” Korith blurted out, only to realize she could have worded that a lot better. “I, uhm, not that you are not not normal. I mean, you are but… I’ll just shut up now.”

“No, you won’t,” Reysha laughed. “We’ll be on the sea for another five hours at least. As if you could keep your feet still for that long.”

Korith had to force her scaled toes to stop tapping on the wooden planks. “I could try…” she retorted, knowing this was an argument she had lost at the outset. “How about a game?”

“The wind is too strong to enjoy cards or dice without risk of losing them,” Aclysia remarked. The steady gusts were indeed obstructive. Not to a harmful or even conversation bothering degree, but enough to carry a thin piece of paper into the all-present water. “We may have to keep it to regular dialogue.”

“The horror!” Reysha exclaimed.

“I like talking to you,” Apexus said.

“Ya only say that because ya want to sleep with me.”

“No.”

“Awww, he likes me for my personality.”

“I love you.”

“…okay, I need you to stop being wholesome and genuine for like three seconds so I can tease you for some fucking thing you say,” Reysha complained-

“No.”

“Darling is too good for you,” Aclysia remarked.

Reysha laughed, “Guess we see eye to eye on something, bubble butt.”

The banter went on as they rowed.