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The dragon smiled inside. Human vanity always amused him; these insects cared so much about themselves, blissfully unaware of how insignificant they were. Dragons, too, were vain, but eternal monsters with boundless magical ability deserved vanity, he mused.
He flagged the man with a nod. “What can I get for you, mister?” The bartender was missing many of his teeth. It took a great deal of self control to not laugh in the little man’s face. “Stout.” The bartender nodded and turned to a keg. Emberwind scanned the room as his drink was poured, looking for a likely prospect. There were many men in armor, or carrying swords, but all appeared to be men at arms or mercenaries. None had the straight-backed, virtuous look of the knightly dragon slayers.
At the very least, he might be able to get some information from the bartender. The small man returned with a large glass mug filled three quarters of the way with black brew, and the rest of the way with heavy brown foam. Emberwind scoffed silently. It never failed to annoy him how cheap these men could be. “That’ll be four sterling.” Emberwind nodded and reached into his pocket, producing a single gold coin. He saw the man’s eyes grow wide, then quickly return to normal in an obvious attempt to no look too eager.
“That will work.” He said as he hastily set the mug down and stretched out his hand. The dragon grinned “I’m sure it will. There will be change, yes?” he asked. The man’s face turned to a scowl, the corner of his mouth twisted up. “Of course, sir.” He sneered.
Emberwind placed the coin in the man’s hand, who started to turn away. The dragon quickly grabbed the man’s wrist and said “However, if you can provide me with some information, then the change may become a tip.” The bartender’s back straightened. “What kind of information might you be interested in?”
“Dragons slayers. I need to find one.”
The bartender let out a sharp laugh, and then stopped abruptly, not wanting to offend the potential big spender. “Well, there hasn’t been much of a need for them for a long time; ain’t been a dragon around here in ages. Used to be old Emberwind up in the mountains, but no one has seen him in half a millennium. Everyone assumes he either died, or is so old his bones wont let him get up.” He cackled a little. Emberwind did his best to hide his anger.
So the little pink ones thought he was dead, or worse, feeble? He immediately decided after this game was done, the city would be too. He would make a point to eat the disgusting little troll in front of him. It was small consolation that they still recalled his presence after so many generations of absence. “I can assume, then, that no one of honor and strength frequents this dive?”
The bartender looked taken aback by the insult and assumed a smug stance. Emberwind glared, noticing the thugs on either side of him changing positions subtly, most likely in case he got physical with the bartender. He decided not to waste any more time with the little man or his bar. “I’ll take my change, thank you.”
The bartender went to his till, and retrieved the proper change. Emberwind held out his hand, and the bartender angrily dropped the coins onto the bar, causing them to jump haphazardly, falling on the floor and scattering across the bar.
The dragon glowered at the skinny man, who immediately shrank away, all of his bluster stolen when he looked into the angry blue eyes of the dragon. One of the thugs went to pick up some of the coins on the bar, and Emberwind grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand over, forcing him to the floor. “You can have the change down there, I won’t waste my time scrounging it up.” The man howled in pain as the dragon’s grip threatened to crush the bones in his forearm.
Emberwind scooped up the coins from the bar. “Bartender.” He boomed. The little man started violently and turned to him. “I almost forgot your tip.” He took one of the lesser valued coins between his forefinger and thumb and snapped it at the man’s head. The coin rang as if he had thrown it at a stone, and the bartender fell back into his kegs, dazed and screaming in pain.
Emberwind stepped out the front door to the establishment. It was not a total waste of time, the rarity of dragon slayers had been verified. He would have a long road ahead of him.
The sun had disappeared behind the horizon long before Emberwind entered an establishment simply called “The Gilded”. It was much more upscale than most of the pubs he had entered; the smell of roasted meat and expensive seasonings enveloped him as he entered. The interior lived up to the name; clean-cut, well manicured patrons sat in luxurious seats, served by waiters in black suits. Low burning braziers gave the place a warm, cozy feel, and a minstrel quietly plucked a stringed instrument in the corner.
As he had in every previous place, Emberwind went straight for the bar. He ordered a stout (his twelfth of the day) and sat down. As the bartender returned with his drink, he opened his mouth ask the same question he had already asked dozens of times in this frustrating day, when he was cut off by an almost musical voice. “I hear you are looking for a dragon slayer.”
Emberwind was stunned. He turned slowly to his left to the source of the voice.
“Is that correct, or do I have the wrong gentleman?”
Sitting next to him was a woman. She had the lean muscular shape of a fighter, but her slight build and pointed ears marked her as an elf. She had red/brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and wore well kept, but obviously well worn leather travel clothes in forest green.
“Yes, I am. How do you know that?”
The elf woman looked down quickly, appearing a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry; I have been in a few of the same pubs as you today and overheard some of your conversation. I actually came here hoping you would too.”
Emberwind’s eyebrow cocked. “Really?... And why would you do that?”
The elf looked him directly in the eye. “Because I am what you have been looking for.”
The dragon looked at the elf with an amused, condescending stare. “Are you, now?”
She appeared unimpressed with his posture. Emberwind expected an over-exuberant stammer as the woman tried to spew a list of credentials and proof as to why she would be an excellent choice, but her reaction surprised him.
She smiled, the reached down and lifted her back pack. She reached inside and produced a ledger. Within was a list of kingdoms, many he recognized, more that he did not. The list contained four columns, the name of the land, the name of a lord, or king or duke, their signatures, and the names of dragons. Emberwind recognized the names on the list, every last one.
“Who did you steal that from?” he smirked.
The young woman smiled wider. “Originally? Testle, it was buried in a chest near the bottom of his bog.”
Emberwind started slightly. Testle had been a massive black-scaled dragon that inhabited a bog a thousand miles south of his domain. He had breathed a vicious acid, and demanded all manner of sacrifices to the surrounding lands to keep from destroying their homes.
Emberwind had always considered him lazy, but knew the monster had been powerful enough to never bother wanting to encounter him. Emberwind preferred ever advantage.
“YOU killed Testle?”
The elf nodded, clearly very proud. Emberwind stood next to his seat and said “Pardon my rudeness.” Then gestured and spoke a few lines to a simple spell. “Did you kill the great dragon known as Testle?”
The elf sighed. “Yes. Then I redistributed his wealth among the surrounding communities to repair the damage he had caused over the centuries.”
Much to his shock, the elf spoke the truth. Had she lied, even a little, she would have burst into harmless green flames. “Satisfied?” she said.
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