V M Feed the Fire

[Eszter]

Eszter stood in a forest clearing, hands on her hips, doing… well, nothing in particular really. She had left her ‘home’ (essentially just a small hideaway in a local cave system) that morning ready to take on the world, but now that she was in the heart of the hinterlands, the dragonkin had stopped in her tracks. She gazed aimlessly into the distance, mumbling to herself as she wondered what exactly she should be doing.

“Arcadia isn’t going to squash itself.” The demi-dragon murmured, itching compulsively at the base of one of her horns. Pursuing her lips, she briefly considered the truth of that statement. With Anders and his gang of self-righteous thugs running around, the kingdom actually might squash itself, and the thought of Arcadia falling without her input really pissed her off.

“Maybe I should see if I can contact Anders, work something out with those heirs…” the dragon queen mused to herself, pouting a little at the prospect of playing nice with people like them. “I doubt either of us are going to be ready to let the other take the lead though…”

A few moments later, a goblin came sprinting past the clearing. It clutched an armful of random stuff to its chest as it ran by screaming, moving as fast as it’s little legs could carry it. “Please! Leave me alone! They’re miiiiine!”

A few more moments later, a pair of humans came running after it, one carrying a bow and the other wielding nothing but a pair of brass knuckles.

“Get back here you little shit!” the pugilist shouted at the fleeing goblin, a muscular man who, for whatever reason, decided that a shirt was unnecessary when venturing out into the Hinterlands.

“Yeah,” his friend shouted in turn, loosing an arrow which thumped harmlessly against a nearby tree. “Just hand it over and we’ll spare ya, gobbo! Promise!”

None of the trio paid Eszter any mind as she stood there, a coincidental spectator to the chase. None of them hand the smell of dragonblood on their hands, so there was no real reason for the demi-dragon to intervene…

Even if, for some reason, seeing those two chasing that goblin really got her blood boiling.

~~~~~~~~~

Vaat’s little legs pumped faster than they ever had before in his life, desperate to carry him away from the pair of adventurers hot on his trail. Slowed by the sack of belongings in his arms and his little legs, only the sheer surge of adrenaline in the goblin’s body was what kept him ahead of his pursuers.

“Please!” he wailed, pleading with the murderous duo. “Go away! It’s mine!”

“Hurry up and shoot him!” Chris shouted to his brother, sweat glistening on his brow. “I’ve never done this much cardio before!”

“I’m tryingggg,” Ben groaned, sending another arrow careening off into the treeline. “Shooting and running is haaard.”

Fortunately for the adventurers, their slightly embarrassing inability to catch a single goblin would soon be forgotten as Vaat tripped on a raised root, unable to see it with his bag of stuff obscuring everything below his now. The goblin fell flat on his face, the wind knocked out of him as coins and personal effects went flying across the forest floor. He desperately attempted to climb to his feet and keep running, but he barely made it to his knees before a boot connected with his ribs, sending him rolling across the ground.

Vaat rolled to a stop against a nearby tree, landing face-up, giving him a convenient view of Chris leisurely walking towards him, planting his right fist into the palm of his left hand in an intimidating gesture.

“Alright,” the pugilist grinned, “let’s see what else you’ve got on you. Gotta make sure nothing’s hidden in those pockets.”

Before the adventurer could pummel the goblin into a green mess on the ground, however, he heard a weird gurgle from behind him and felt something wet on his bare back. Confused, he whipped around and his heart froze.

Before him, Ben’s near-lifeless body stood, held upright by the gore-soaked fist that was plunged through his chest. With a kick, Eszter dislodged the butchered adventurer from her arm, sending his body sprawling to the ground. Chris opened his mouth to let out a dismayed cry, but it was immediately drowned out by the dragonkin’s own wordless scream. Her eyes burning with draconic light and her face twisted into a mask of pure fury, Eszter roared furiously as she stormed towards the adventurer, fists clenched tight.

“What the fuck?!” Chris shouted, taking a proper combat stance as his foe approached him unphased. “What are you doing?! It’s just a goblin!”

“Just a- grah! Just shut up and die!” The dragon queen spat. When she looked at the sight before her, she didn’t see a pair of adventurers, a person and their dying, still gurgling friend. She just saw vermin, ready to die.

Chris moved with expert precision as Eszter stepped recklessly into his reach, bringing a right hook into his side that had crippled lesser men. Well, it had crippled goblins, actually, but to him that constituted lesser men. The demi-dragon, however, made no attempt to dodge and barely flinched as the strike hit home, instead reeling simply back her own fist.

The pugilist would have doubted that she could hit him too hard had he not seen her plunge her hand through Ben’s torso, but now he was all too aware of what she could do to him. Desperate, he attempted to weave backwards, creating some distance between himself and the raging storm in front of him, but before he could get anywhere he felt a stabbing pain in his right leg, just above the foot.

With a vengeful snarl, Vaat has plucked up a makeshift shiv that had spilled from his sack onto the ground and plunged it into Chris’ Achilles’ tendon. The slash from the clumsily-made knife was not clean, mangling the flesh rather than severing it, but it did its job.

The adventurer stumbled, unable to dodge, and a beat later he felt his rib cage give way as Eszter’s fist crashed into his torso, sending him flying in much the same way he had sent Vaat stumbling with a kick. Thankfully, unlike Ben, he had been spared the fist-through-the-chest trick, leaving him winded but alive as he came to a stop.

Desperate, The pugilist began to crawl away, painfully aware of the sound of footsteps behind him. He didn’t get far before he felt a weight on his lower back.

Then, he heard another furious scream and it all went dark.

~~~~~~~~

Vaat sat and caught his breath as he watched the strange woman plant one foot on the small of his pursuer’s back and then raise the other, stomping down on his head, neck and back again and again and again and AGAIN.

“Fuck you!” she screamed between stomps. “You’re not better! You're worthless! You’re nothing! You’re nothing but FUCKING VERMIN!”

Then, long after his upper body had been reduced to nothing but a red puddle, she paused and slowly lowered her foot, panting hard. Wiping her brow, Eszter made her way back to the tree that Vaat was slumped against. The goblin tried to remain as still as possible, unsure of what exactly she was going to do, but when she reached him the dragonkin simply regarded him for a moment before crouching down, slowly picking up the belongings scattered around her feet.

The dragon queen picked up each piece of gold or random trinket and placed them back in the goblin’s knapsack, giving a quick scan of the area to make sure she didn’t miss anything. Vaat simply cowered at the base of the tree, terrified that his ‘rescue’ was simply going from being killed to being robbed, until Eszter was satisfied that she’d collected up everything and, after one last longing look at his humble gold supply, held the bag out for him.

“Here,” she said, offering it to him.

“Y-You’re not taking it?”

“Don’t be absurd.” Eszter scoffed. “The only way a queen takes gold from her people is through taxes.”

 

[Eszter]

Vaat clutched his things close to his chest, grateful that the strange lady in front of them had given them back but incredibly confused about what she was talking about.

“Queen?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Queen of where?”

“Well, nowhere in particular,” Eszter said, leisurely walking over to a near-dead tree and bracing her foot against it before kicking out, knocking it over with a dull thump. Taking a seat on the smashed tree, she fixed the goblin with her gaze, her reptilian pupils boring into his soul. “I’m the queen of dragons, and since dragons rule over everything, that means I rule over everything. Well, I will in time, at least.”

“Then why have I never heard of you?” Vaat inquired, quirking an eyebrow at her. Eszter was stunned at the goblin’s audacity for a moment, the confidence to question someone who just killed two men with her bare hands. But, as much as she hated to admit it, he had a point.

“Eszter.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Eszter,” she said, dodging the question. “Now you’ve heard of me.”

“Hmm… okay, Eszter,” Vaat nodded, deciding to turn the conversation elsewhere. “So… why did you help me? I mean, I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong, but…”

“But you’re a goblin?” the demi-dragon asked, finishing his sentence. The goblin nodded sheepishly and she simply sighed. “Well, honestly... I wasn’t going to at first. But something just snapped. Seeing those two and everything they represented... it just pissed me off.”

“Oh, you hate people who pick on the weak?”

“Oh, no, I’m not worried about that. I’d smash you into the dirt right now if I had a good reason to,” Eszter said matter-of-factly. Vaat gulped audibly and thanked the arbiters that he hadn’t given her a reason, whatever that meant. “I hate the status quo. I hate that these vermin think they’re better than everyone else and that they can do whatever they want. I hate that those fucking dragonslayers are seen as heroes instead of the scum they are.”

The dragon queen’s hands gripped onto the log on either side of her, stripping bark and crushing timber as she clenched her fists. Then, abruptly, she realized that she was getting heated and drifting off-topic. Eszter took a deep breath and released it as a long sigh, refocusing herself.

“So, I’m gonna burn it all down. Then I'll rebuild it from the ashes. I’ll make a fair world where dragons will reign as they are supposed to.”

“Ok you lost me there,” Vaat said, cutting her off by making a T shape with his hands. “I was kinda liking what I was hearing until that last bit.”

“Don’t worry, it’s good, just let me explain,” Eszter said, leaning forward and jabbing her finger into the dirt. First, she drew a little smiley face, complete with hair and horns just like her own.

“Ok, so here’s me, Dragon Queen Eszter, right at the top.”

She continued by drawing a few crude dragons underneath herself, flying through the air and spitting poorly drawn flames.

“Then we have the dragons. They’ll be able to hoard all the gold and hunt all the food they want. They’ll be able to lay their eggs without the threat of adventurers smashing or stealing them.”

The dragonkin then proceeded to draw a few more smiley faces beneath the dragons. A human, a dwarf, an elf, a goblin, an orc, a minotaur, a whole parade of races that made up Erde Nona.

“Then we have everyone else. You guys will just pay a bit of gold or meat or whatever your local dragon wants for their hoard and just leave them alone and then do what you want. No more goblins and orcs and such getting killed for their ‘loot’. Everyone is equal in that they’re equally not-dragons.”

The goblin simply watched as Eszter’s expression subtly changed, her reptilian eyes softening and the corners of her mouth perking up.

“And everyone will recognise how magnificent dragons are. Even other dragons will admire me. My subjects will be all ‘we love you Queen Eszter, you’re the best!’ and I’ll…” The dragon queen trailed off, realizing that she was getting too into her fantasy. Clearing her throat, she turned back to her captive audience with a proud look. “Well? Pretty cool, right?”

Vaat clasped his hands together and pressed them to his face, pursing his lips. The things he was hearing were certainly a bit psycho, but, he had to admit, the idea of being able to walk around without the threat of being shot for a few gold pieces did sound nice. Nice enough to support such a batshit insane plan as burning down… what, Arcadia? Maybe even Erde Nona? Plus, Vaat was an enterprising guy. He could get on her good side, maybe he could just kick back in this new world she was proposing.

“Alright, alright, I see what you’re saying. So, are you some kind of a terrorist like those Heir guys?”

“I prefer the term ‘revolutionary’,” Eszter corrected before raising a hand to her chin, stroking it thoughtfully. “Although… I think rebellion sounds better than revolution… so maybe I’m a rebel instead…”

“Rebel-utionary, whatever,” Vaat said, suddenly a whole new goblin as he hopped up onto the log and placed a casual arm on her shoulder. “So, oh Queen of Dragons, you got yourself an army? A legion of dragons ready to take over the world?”

“Of course,” Eszter said, flipping her hair back with her hand. “A one-woman army, that is.”

Thaaaat was about what Vaat had expected. Oh well, it made it far easier to make himself seem useful than if he had to compete with literal dragons.

“Great. That’s great,” the goblin said, patting her on the shoulder. “And what if I could offer you a rea- er, normal army. One with multiple people in it.”

“...I’m listening.”

“Well, I don’t mean to brag but my village is preeetty big and preeetty strong,” Vaat said nonchalantly. “I’m willing to help you out, and I’m sure they’d be willing to give out a hand too.”

Eszter considered the proposition for a second, wondering how much a single goblin village could really do before a thought dawned on her. Goblins were basically kobolds, right? So a goblin army was basically the kobold army that normal dragons kept.

“Perfect, introduce me to them post-haste.”

“Ah-ah-ah, hold up,” Vaat said, bringing his hands up in a ‘stop’ gesture. “You’re not gonna just waltz in and convince them all with your, eh, majesty. You’ll need to impress them first.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” The dragon queen asked, narrowing her eyes at him skeptically.

“Well, there’s a teeeeeny tiiiiny little caravan that’s set up shop in the hinterlands,” he explained. “And they’ve been giving us hell. Raiding our village and taking our stuff. If you helped us wipe ‘em out, you’d for sure earn everyone’s respect.”

The dragonkin did not stop peering at him, weighing the pros and cons of what he was putting forward.

“And hey, if that’s not enough to convince you, look at it this way:” Vaat said, pointing at the two bodies lying nearby. “You’ve already gotten started, may as well keep going right? Sunk cost and all.”

“Aaagh… I suppose I should finish the job.” Eszter agreed. The goblin at her side let out an excited shout of triumph, hopping off the log and gesturing for the demi-dragon to follow.

“Haha, yes! Let’s go, this’ll be great!”

 

[Eszter]

Before assaulting the caravan, Vaat had convinced Eszter to come back to his village with him. Terribly impatient as she was, the dragon queen obliged after a little convincing. The goblins, Vaat assured her, would be overjoyed to hear that someone was finally going to help them out and would even give her a hand so she wouldn’t be left to do all the dirty work herself.

To be honest, the demi-dragon wasn’t sure what she was expecting to see in a goblin village, but when they arrived, she was slightly stunned by the sight. The village had clearly been deprived of some of the resources that the rest of Erde Nona enjoyed with hardly a single metal fixture in sight. In spite of this, they had done well with the materials they were given. Timber was the clear favourite when it came to construction material, making up most of the buildings around, though some clay brick could be spotted here and there. Altogether, they wouldn’t have looked too out of place in your average Hinterlands town.

That was, of course, except for the fact that they were about half the size of your typical house. Eszter found it quaint in a way, but she kept that to herself. She didn’t think that Vaat would appreciate that comment. Him or the numerous goblins who peaked nervously through their windows, opening the shutters they had in place of glass windows just a crack to peer through.

“Just stay here, I’ll be right back.” Vaat said, the unusual pair coming to a stop outside of a particularly fancy looking building. It even had a little gold ornament above the door of a grinning goblin, the only piece of metal decoration that Eszter had seen so far. As her new acquaintance dashed inside, the dragonkin took a moment to really look around and take stock of her surroundings.

Though she loathed to admit it, Eszter wasn’t the tallest woman in the world, but even she could almost peek over the top of some of the shorter buildings in the village. This was at least in part due to the minimalism of their construction, with their wooden roofs being mostly flat rather than raised. Another factor was the fact that no small number of the buildings had been smashed in and knocked down, no doubt the work of that caravan that they needed help dealing with.

Though she knew it was in terribly bad taste considering this fact, being around buildings that were barely taller than herself tickled a part of Eszter’s brain that she hadn’t really felt before, a deep-set desire to stomp through a little town like in some giant monster movie. She didn’t indulge the compulsion, of course, she had some self-control. Still, the dragonkin secretly hoped she’d have the chance to raze a city as a real dragon some day, one that deserved it. She could just tell that smashing down a building that belonged to someone who had done it to others would be an incredible experience.

“Hey, dragon lady,” Vaat said, sticking his head out of the double doors at the front of the fancy building. “The mayor said that he wants to see you.”

“Oh. Of course,” Eszter said, trying to hide her surprise at the sound of the word ‘mayor’. She couldn’t even remember the last time that she had heard of a mayor and this little goblin village had one? The hinterlands was certainly never boring.

The dragon queen approached the doors before pausing and crouching down, wondering how she should navigate this. Made for goblins, they were far smaller than any standard entryway. Thankfully, Eszter was pretty skinny. In her experience, she could pretty much fit her body through any opening that she could get her horns through.

Dropping to all fours, the dragonkin crawled through the doorway, slipping through without much issue. It was a little undignified, but she simply thanked the Arbiters that it was a double door rather than a single. Getting stuck halfway through would have been the real indignity. Once she was fully through, Eszter slowly clambered to her feet, careful not to bump her head on the roof lest she put a hole in it.

For a goblin, the dragon queen imagined that the mayor’s home(?) would be pretty roomy. For her, though, it was just a bit bigger than ‘cramped’, forcing her to slouch to avoid scraping her head on the ceiling. After barely squeezing through a single door and navigating a flight of little stairs, the demi-dragon found herself outside another set of double doors, manned by a pair of goblins.

These goblins guards were perhaps the biggest surprise yet, as the two were fully armed as if they were royal guards of some sort. Their armour was mostly hardened leather and their spears had hafts of well-hewn wood but, critically, they had breastplates and spearheads of (at least to Eszter’s amateur eye), rather well-forged steel.

“This the dragon lady, kid?” one of the guards inquired, a grizzled old goblin chewing on a lump of something pungent. He fixed her with a slightly skeptical look, but there was something else behind his tired eyes. An undeniable hint of resignation that said ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’.

“Yessir,” Vaat replied, gesturing to Eszter with a flourish. “Here’s the lady who’s gonna set us free.”

The demi-dragon, on the other hand, slightly objected to the use of the word ‘lady’. She was a queen, after all, not just some noble. But, she decided to let it slide for now. Royal introductions could wait until after she had saved their village.

“Hmph. Alright. Head on in, then,” the guard sighed, thumping his spear once on the floor and, along with his partner, opened the door to the mayor’s office. Eszter gave the two a nod before pausing, trying to figure out the best way to get through the door while maintaining her regal aura in front of the guards.

Crouching down, the dragonkin graced herself against the top of the door frame with one hand and lowered herself down until she could fit through. Then, awkwardly, she ducked her head through the door, sliding through until she was on the other side and could rise back to (mostly) full height.

Glancing across the room, Eszter found herself looking at an elderly goblin seated at a finely carved desk. The mayor was short, even for a goblin, with a pair of spectacles and a large, grey, bushy mustache obscuring his mouth. The two stared each other down for a moment…

Then two…

Then a few more…

It didn’t take the dragon queen long to realise that they were both waiting for a polite address from the other and despite being in his office she was far too proud to oblige him first. Clearing his throat, the mayor finally broke the silence by deciding to speak first.

“Ahem. Hello, miss Eszter,” he began, adjusting his glasses. “I am mayor Mote, and I welcome you to Kraag. Young Vaat has told me that you want to help us with our… unruly neighbors, shall we call them?”

“I do,” the demi-dragon nodded, her arms crossed over her chest and legs slightly bent to give her a little more head room.

“Well… we do appreciate the gesture, but I have to wonder why you’re so set on helping us,” the mayor murmured, not outright accusatory but definitely suspicious of her motives. Eszter briefly wondered how hard Vaat had been selling her desire to fight off the caravan out of the goodness of her heart rather than out of pure rage.

“This caravan operates in in a way that doesn’t agree with my… sensibilities, shall we say?” the dragon queen said. She would have rathered to just tell him that they pissed her off but she wanted to keep up appearances in front of her new subjects. “So, they should be removed.”

“I see. That is very noble of you,” Mayor Mote said, to which Eszter simply raised her hand and proudly flipped back some of her hair. “I have to say though, we won’t be able to give you much of a reward. Not now, at least…”

“That’s fine,” the dragonkin remarked, hiding her small disappointment. She had basically expected as such, but would have liked some gold for her troubles nonetheless. “But what do you mean by ‘not now’?”

“Well, the caravan has been taking all our metal and blocking off any of our access to the mines,” he explained. “Everything we’ve been able to scavenge together is held here. If you're able to… remove them then we’ll be able to start mining again. If you’re patient, I’m sure the people will be glad to pull something together for you.”

“Ah, I appreciate your generosity! I’ll be sure to eliminate these vermin blocking your way post-haste,” Eszter grinned.

“Heh. I thought that might sweeten the pot. Still, though, thank you,” the mayor said, his voice heavy with a mix of emotions. “You have no idea how long we’ve been terrorized by these people. Arcadia hasn’t done a thing about it. For even a small chance at freedom… we’ll do anything.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll burn the whole thing down and be back before sundown.”

“No!” Mote said abruptly, catching Eszter off-guard. “I- sorry, but they have taken so many relics of our people that we have lost count. Please, if you can, try to keep collateral damage to a minimum. We need to get as many of our belongings back as we can.”

“Oh… right,” the dragonkin muttered, nodding reluctantly. It was a real pain to have to hold back on using her draconic magic, but she could understand why the goblins wouldn’t appreciate having their cultural artifacts lost in a fire. “Sure, no fire. You got it. Eh- I mean, of course, good sir.”

“Uh-huh,” the goblin nodded, clearly growing steadily less convinced by her ‘proper’ display with each passing moment. “Anyways… I’ll have a word with the guard. I’ll organize a squad to send with you tonight and-”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Eszter said dismissively, waving her hand as if to physically banish the notion before turning to leave. “It’s just some vermin. I could handle this with both hands tied behind my back. No need to risk any of your guys. Just sit back and let me work my magic.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t just a few men. They’re a dangerous-”

“Sure, sure, they’re real dangerous,” the queen cut in with a predatory grin, though it was slightly undercut by the awkward process of getting through the goblin-sized doors. “But not as dangerous as me.”

 

[Eszter]

Despite her stubborn insistence on taking the caravan down alone, Eszter did begrudgingly have to ask for directions before heading out. Fortunately, they had a tendency to set up in one spot for a few weeks before continuing on to the next, so she wouldn’t need to waste a tonne of time following muddy tracks through the hinterlands. Unfortunately, it appeared that goblins were rather incompetent at giving directions. Either that or the dragonkin was incompetent at following them, but that wasn’t something she was willing to contemplate.

“Turn right at the river,” she muttered to herself, squinting at the note they had handed her in the dying light of the sun. “Fucking… what river? ‘Then continue north until you reach the old tree with a split down the middle…’”

Using what little orienteering experience she had, the dragon queen protected her eyes with her hand as she looked towards the sun.

“Ok so if the sun is setting there… then north is… to my left. Fuck,” Eszter groaned. “Where am I?”

Massaging the base of her horns, the demi-dragon tried to will herself to somehow just find her way there, as if she could just channel her rage to draw her to her enemies.

“Taking the scenic route?”

Eszter didn’t scream, such a thing would be unbecoming of the queen of dragons. That said, a slightly embarrassing sound slipped from her mouth as she whirled on her heels, throwing a high kick that would have easily removed the upper body of her ambusher. Fortunately for him, however, it simply sailed over his head, his short stature saving his life.

“Whoa! Whoa! Easy!” Vaat yelped, crouching down even lower just to be completely sure he wouldn’t have his head taken off. The dragonkin paused for a moment as she processed what she was seeing, breaking into a half-hearted scowl. She had told the goblins not to follow her, including him. That said, he did probably know the way there, and if he could get her there then she supposed she could overlook this incident.

“You were following me,” the queen noted, more of a observation than anothing else. Her tone was ever-so-slightly accusatory, but far less so than it could have been.

“Yeah,” the goblin replied, unphased by the bad-tempered force of nature standing in front of him.

“Why?”

“Because I saw you take one look at the directions that say ‘head East’ and immediately go West.”

Eszter was silent for a few second, arms crossed as she processed how she felt about this.

“...you could have said something sooner...”

“Ah, and embarrass my most illustrious queen in front of the whole village?” Vaat said sarcastically, miming a curtesy with a non-existent skirt. “Seriously though, I’ve got little legs compared to yours. Couldn’t catch you in time. I got some good cardio trying to follow you though, yeesh.”

“Hmph. Alright,” the demi-dragon sighed. “Lead me to the caravan and I suppose I can overlook this incident.”

“Heh. Of course, your highness.”

With that, Vaat took off in what seemed like a random direction and, with little other choice, Eszter followed after at a light jog. To her untrained eye, there was practically nothing to show that they were going the right way, but her unusual companion moved with such conviction that she had little choice but to believe his sense of direction was correct.

It didn’t take long for her belief to be proven correct, as she began to notice tracks in the mud, campfire smoke above the treeline, and voices in the distance. Vaat certainly knew his way around the woods, she had to give him that much. The pair began to slow as they drew close before stopping short of the camp that the caravan had set up, staying just out of sight.

What was formerly pure forest was now a large sterilized clearing, thoroughly scrubbed of any plant life bigger than grass. In the place of the natural woodland was about a dozen finely made wooden wagons, each one ornately carved and decorated with all manner of expensive looking metals and exotic goods.

Eszter had, for no real reason in retrospect, expected there to be children and the elderly among the caravan, but this didn’t seem to be the case. Instead, she could only see three types of people: rag-tag adventurers like the two she ran into in the forest, stern-looking, heavily armed guards and grinning men and women passing sacks of coins around while dressed in expensive looking clothes. Being prevented wrong was no bother to her, though. Just made things easier on her conscience.

“Alright. You head on back,” the dragon queen said, interlocking her fingers before stretching forward and slowly raising them above her head, stretching her arms and back. She lacked the words to describe how ready she was, her whole body buzzing with anticipation and barely-contained magical strength. “You don’t really strike me as the fighting type. Plus, I don't want to give you nightmares.”

“You’re really gonna do this on your own?” Vaat asked skeptically.

“Of course. What good dragon can't raze a settlement on her own?”

The goblin simply pursed his lips and gave a quick nod before turning and slipping back into the darkness.

~~~~~~~~~​

It was a quiet night at camp for Sebastian. No one had spotted a threat in days, their food supply was lasting them well, and a couple of the random mercenaries that followed them around had vanished. Normally one might see that as a cause for concern, but not them. It was just two less payouts that they had to give. Now, he was just taking it easy on his post, leaning against the nearest wagon while listening to the merchants debate about inane nonsense.

“We should be marketing them as a novelty,” one of them tutted, an elderly man with a large, crooked nose. In his hand, he waved a tiny sword around, looking more like a dagger than anything else. “Just need to blunt the edge and it can be a toy, a display piece. People will love them.”

“You’re overcomplicating things,” his associate sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. The bald-headed woman raised a miniature sword of her own, trying to emphasize her point. “We should just sell them as daggers. Call it a regional design and we can bump up the price too.”

The guard regiment that called the Velka Caravan their home stayed consistent, but the assortment of merchants who tagged along with them seemed to change every week. As such, Sebastian never bothered to learn their names. As far as he was concerned he only needed to know the names of comrades and Lord Malcolm.

The mundane peace of the evening was soon interrupted, however, by a subtle rustling sound coming from the treeline. Sebastian thought nothing of it, all sorts of animals came past the camp. The merchants, on the other hand, seemed a bit more spooked. The old man turned to another guard, Tor, and jabbed a finger in the direction of the sound.

“Guard! Go check that,” he hissed, a worried look on his face. His colleague had a similarly concerned expression, secreting away most of the wares while still holding onto one of her ‘daggers’. Tor gave a reluctant sigh before saluting the merchants and heading towards the source of the sound, lighting a torch before disappearing into the darkness of the woods.

From his post, Sebastian kept a watchful eye on the forest. He couldn’t see his fellow guard directly, but he could still see the illumination cast by his torch flickering among the trees. All seemed normal, at first, but soon the light became erratic, swinging back and forth chaotically for a few minutes before falling still and dying out entirely.

“Tor…?” Sebastian called out, unease settling in as he stepped forward from his post, spear at the ready as he approached the treeline. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he edged his way forward, glancing from one dancing shadow to the next as he opened his mouth to call out again. “To- hurgh!”

Before he could utter a word, something came barreling out of the darkness, catching him in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him. The guard fell on his ass as he tried to catch his breath, glancing down to find two horrifying sights at once. Not only had he been hit in the gut hard enough to dent his breastplate, restricting his breathing beyond simple winding, but the offending projectile was Tor’s helmet, his head still inside.

The winded guard attempted to let out a horrified shout, but he only managed a croak before he heard footsteps rushing towards him and a red-booted foot came flying from the darkness. Sebastian’s neck snapped back as he toppled over backwards. Then, moments later, the unfortunate guard was finished off by the very same boot stomping down on his skull, crushing it beneath its heel.

“Hello there, vermin!” Eszter cried out, unnaturally sharp teeth bared and eyes burning with furious light. “The time has come for you to kneel before the queen!”

 

[Eszter]

‘Lord’ Malcolm Velka, son of the actual Lord Alistair Velka, had everything in his life going right for him. He was a handsome, charismatic man who possessed the loyalty of most of his caravan due to his near-ubiquitous generosity. But most of all he was, particularly for a man who spent most of his time in the Hinterlands, a rich son of a bitch. On this particular evening, he was wearing his silken robes while seated in his chambers inside the biggest and most elaborately decorated wagon of the caravan, a platter of gourmet food to his left and a choice selection of vintage alcohol to his right.

Tragically, his peaceful night was interrupted by some commotion outside, bringing a frown to his lips as he was about to light some magical candles that he picked up in their last stop in Arcadia (they were scented but simply emitted their smell rather than filling the room with smoke). He spent a minute contemplating rising from his comfortable seat to get an explanation before there was a knock at the door.

“It’s me, milord,” The proper voice of his right-hand Rowan called from the other side. “Are you decent?”

“Yes, I am,” Malcolm called back, slightly exasperated as his assistant stuck his head in. “What’s the disturbance? Did another mercenary fall in the fire pit?”

“It seems that we’re under attack, milord. Two guards-” the audible sound of screeching metal and screaming could be heard outside, followed by a choked gurgle. “Three guards have been killed.”

“Hmm. Noted,” the lord said, nodding to himself. “Well, I’m sure you’re all qualified to handle it. Maybe you could do some ‘scouting’ too. Gareth has been getting on my nerves recently and I wouldn’t be opposed to having him replaced.”

“Of course, milord.”

“Oh, and Rowan, fetch me some cutlery would you?” Malcolm called. “I can’t eat this all with my bare hands.”

“Of course, milord…” he sighed.

~~~~~~~~~

Eszter grappled with a massive adventurer, grasping him by the horns of his helmet and whipping him to the side to block an incoming volley of arrows. Four shots thumped into his back, causing him to fall limp in her grasp. Holding the muscular frame of the dead barbarian like a rag doll, the dragonkin peeped over his shoulder to ensure there were no wagons within fireball range of the archers.

As she hoped, they were standing in a relatively clear part of the clearing. Grinning, the dragon queen, scraped her index finger and thumb nails against one another like a flint and steel, sending up a small shower of sparks which coalesced into a single furious marble of flame. With a flick of her wrist, she arced the newborn fireball into the air towards the archers before turning on her heels, bringing the mercenary’s body down on a guard who was moments from running her through.

“Scatter!” one of the archers cried out, diving to the side to avoid the tiny comet moments before it bloomed into an eruption of flame. Two of them were incinerated instantly while the third barely failed to escape, his foot catching light. The first archer, the one who escaped the blast could only watch in horror as the flame raced up their ally’s leg, his panicked screams filling the air as he tried and failed to stop, drop and roll.

“You bi-” the survivor began to scream out, moments before a spear, torn from the grasp of Eszter’s latest victim, came hurtling through the air and pierced his head.

“Come on!” the dragon queen roared, her voice brimming with barely-contained fury while healing flames licked at her wounds. Though she was far from unharmed, the demi-dragon had decimated almost half of the guards in her rampage. She had yet to kill any of the merchants, who were currently desperately scrounging to get all of their wares together before they fled, but she would get to them in time.

Across the clearing, a pair of guards stood petrified, knowing that they should be engaging the enemy but as they watched the force of nature in front of them tear their friend’s arm off and beat him to death with it, it just seemed unthinkable. Their breathing was uncontrolled, sharp and short, and their legs simply refused to move.

“What are you doing?!” a nearby merchant screamed, carelessly shoving as many of his wares as he could manage into his bag. “Don’t just stand there!”

One of the pair turned to the other, sweat beading on his brow.

“We should let Gareth handle this.” he hissed. The other guard nodded her head before rushing over to a particular caravan, one with two massive doors set into its side. She quickly unlatched them and threw one open while her similarly terrified colleague opened the other. Behind the two was another door, one belonging to a gigantic, shadowy cage. The guard fumbled with a ring of keys for a few tense moments before her impatient partner spoke up.

“Move!” he shouted as he watched the one-woman apocalypse turned to face them, her eyes burning like flares in the flickering light of the campfire. With a panicked grunt, he swung his warhammer with all he had, smashing the lock of the cage with a deafening ‘clang!’ The ruined padlock fell to the ground and the door slowly swung open, though nothing emerged from within.

The two guards stood there paralysed for a moment, unsure of what to do with themselves now. This indecision was quickly banished by a furious scream from their assailant and the sound of boots on dirt, all but forcing them to turn and defend themselves.

Eszter reached the guard with the hammer first, batting aside a clumsy swing he brought at her ribs before grabbing him by the helmet. With a roar, she slammed his head into the side of the caravan, caving in his helmet along with the head it was supposed to protect. His fellow guard stumbled back in frozen fear as she watched his lifeless body slump to the ground, blood leaking from the crumpled helm like juice from a dropped fruit.

The dragonkin came for her next, picking up the slain guard’s warhammer and bringing it around in a wild arc. The remaining guard dodged back, narrowly avoiding a blow that smashed into the caravan wall with such force that the hammer stuck fast. Breathing hard, the guard brought up her shortsword as Eszter furiously attempted to wrench her weapon free, straining with all of her draconically empowered might.

Before she could impale the demi-dragon, however, she lashed out with a brutal kick, catching the guard in the stomach and winding her. Then, with a feral shout and one wrenching pull, the dragon queen yanked the hammer free and caught the guard with the backswing, knocking her head from her neck.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Eszter bellowed into the camp, particularly into the darkness of the open caravan before her. The once formidable guard regiment had been decimated to the last, each warrior now a gory mess on the ground. Still, her rage hadn’t been satisfied. She wasn’t done until everyone responsible had been torn apart. Then, abruptly, she heard the caravan behind her groan in protest as some great weight shifted from within.

“You’re noisy…” a deep, gravelly voice muttered. “Lord Malcolm won’t like that…”

A massive arm burst from the shadows, snatching Eszter up by her face as if she were no more than a rag doll. A colossal figure emerged from the cage, peering at her curiously as if she were no more than a bug that he had managed to catch. His lack of shirt revealed his thick, grey, almost rocky skin and his power-lifter physique, though his face was hidden by a hole-ridden hessian sack.

“Hmph…” he mumbled to himself, shrugging a little. “Oh well… better get rid of you.”

And then he began to squeeze...