The morning air was crisp, and the sun shone brightly over the Lord’s manor. Servants bustled about, finishing the last preparations for their Lord’s departure. Three suits of armor were polished, three well-bred warhorses were groomed and saddled, ten trunks of suits and cloaks were packed, and a massive wagon was loaded with enough supplies to feed the entire manor staff for months.

Rosie was shocked how much the new Lord was taking on his quest, only leaving the manor with enough supplies for another meal, and forcing the Steward to take the other wagon to market while they were still packing. She knew the new Lord had a reason though, even if she didn’t understand it; noblemen always had a reason. Especially young, beautiful noblemen like Lord Taelroy. He stood in the yard now, staring past Rosie and the wagon at the manor.

Rosie couldn’t help but stare; he was gorgeous! He was young still, only a few years older than Rosie, with fine black hair, clear blue eyes, and perfect, flawless skin. His shoulders were broad, his muscles were toned from years of practice with a sword, and he moved with a dancer’s grace.

Something smacked against the side of Rosie’s head, reminding her that she was supposed to be helping Gamil tie down the supplies in the wagon. Turning back to the task at hand, Rosie pulled the rope from where it fell into the mud and began to string it through the loop on the wagon.

“WHAT’S TAKING SO LONG?” Gamil shouted from the other side.

He was one of the oldest servants in the manor; old enough to have been Rosie’s grandfather. With his age came a short temper that often got him in trouble with Taelroy’s father; though the kind Lord had too much patience with Gamil to have released him from service at his advanced age.

“I MISSED THE CATCH!” Rosie admitted as she finished pulling the rope through the loop and hurriedly threw it back to Gamil.

“You missed the catch because you were staring at Lord Taelroy!” Gamil growled.

Chagrined, Rosie refrained from turning back to stare at Lord Taelroy while Gamil fastened the last rope down.

“He’s above your station, young lady.” Gamil continued lecturing, “You’d do well to remember that and stop dreaming for something that can never be!”

It was a lecture that Rosie had heard many times since she first began to love Taelroy, and now she knew the correct places in his practiced monologue to nod and agree with him in order to end it quickly. As she and Gamil finished tying down the last rope, the stable hands brought the massive kurga around and began strapping it to the wagon.

The arrival of the kurga distracted Rosie from Lord Taelroy. She had seen the beasts before, of course, but they were so exotic and dangerous that they drew eyes wherever they went. They were lumbering animals, with six thick, powerful legs and a broad, square snout. A large horn protruded menacingly from between the beast’s nostrils, with a smaller horn behind it.

The creak of leather and the jingle of straps announcing the arrival of a visitor drew Rosie out of her obsession with the kurga.

“I beg your pardon,” the newcomer said from behind Rosie, “Can you direct me to Lord Taelroy? I have a delivery for him.”

Rosie turned to face the newcomer and was struck by the man’s odd appearance. Most visitors to the Lords were other noblemen, this man was dress in dark, dirty leathers and a course cloak. He carried a large sword and shield, and a large scar marred his face.

“HE’S OVER IN THE YARD!” Gamil shouted without looking away from checking over the kurga’s harness.

With a deep bow, the strange man turned and walked out to the yard.

Xalvador and Gaillard sparred in the yard behind Taelroy as he looked one last time at his father’s manor. His manor now, with the death of his parents. He knew he could never fill his father’s role for the family, for the servants that depended on him to run the house and vineyards; he was a soldier, not a merchant.

After several months of trying to hold everything together in the aftermath of the dragon attack that killed his parents, Taelroy had come to a conclusion. A warrior didn’t know how to manage a household. A warrior didn’t know how to negotiate trade agreements. A warrior did know however, how to bring judgement upon a murderous dragon.

Xalvador and Gaillard were among Taelroy’s closest allies from the academy, and were among the dozen of Taelroy’s friends that came with him from the academy. A dozen close friends that he had invited to join him… and only two that supported him in his quest for vengeance.

“Not simply wilt I bring vengeance upon the dragon that slew my parents,” Taelroy had explained to his friends, “I shall sell the vineyards and estate to a merchant in town that has a blade and shield for sell, weapons crafted and enchanted for the purpose of killing dragons.

“I shall become Taelroy, the Dragon Slayer; and my name alone shall strike fear into the hearts of dragons across the face of Khes’yc!”

Twelve friends. Twelve comrades. Twelve allies that had stood with Taelroy through the rigors and challenges of the academy; and ten voices laughed, mocking him as a madman. Ten sets of hooves left the next morning to return to the academy. Xalvador and Gaillard were Taelroy’s true friends.

The creak of leather and jingle of buckles announced Terryn’s approach; though only because the thief wished it. Taelroy had heard the thief could move through a bed of dry twigs without leaving a trace or making a sound.

“Master Terryn,” Taelroy greeted, “I am glad thou hast finally made it.”

“Lord Taelroy,” Terryn replied with a deep bow, hindered slightly by the blade and shield he carried, “I have come with the objects you requested.”

Taelroy hated Terryn’s common way of speaking. It was a low form of communication often used by the servants. However, Terryn was the only path to the blade he required.

“I extend to thee my sincerest gratitude.” Taelroy replied, reaching to take the blade and shield from Terryn.

Terryn rose quickly from his bow and pulled away from Taelroy.

“The payment…” he said.

“Ah, yes,” Taelroy agreed, “Here are the deeds to the estate and the vineyards.”

Taelroy produced the deeds and Terryn snatched them quickly, finally relinquishing the blade and shield.

The shield was of significantly less value than the blade, simply enchanted to be more resistant to the breath of the dragon. Dragon’s fire, Drashyre, was known to burn through many materials easily that fire alone would not touch. Their armor would prove almost futile against the beast, but the shield had specific magic to ward against the Drashyre to a minor extent.

The blade however was what Taelroy truly was willing to sell the estate and vineyards for. Crafted of fine Penshalt mithril so that it would never lose its edge, inset with gems to carry the enchantments, and enchanted by Lythrain mages to cut through the scales of dragons. Originally a gift for a King of the High Kin, it was reported stolen from his tomb a hundred years ago and was only “found” by Terryn after the death of Taelroy’s parents.

“I believe our business is concluded,” Terryn said, “My associates will be here tomorrow morning to take possession of the estate and vineyards.”

“We shall be long gone ‘ere morning.” Taelroy replied confidently as Terryn turned to leave.

“Climb on up!” Gamil barked, making Rosie jump, “If I’m getting dragged along on this fool crusade, then you’re coming with me!”

“What?” Rosie asked, shocked.

“Apparently Lord Taelroy needs a driver for the supply wagon.” Gamil explained, “He’s chosen me, but I’m not going alone. At my age I’m not likely to make it back and if that’s the case I’d like a familiar face along for the ride. Plus if bandits try to take us, I can barter you away for my own freedom.”

Ignoring the man’s comment as she always did and jumping with excitement, Rosie ran back to her bunk in the servants’ quarters to grab her few belongings. It was a meager bag that she carried out of the bunk as she threw her cloak around her shoulders, ran out to the wagon, and hopped up beside Gamil.

“We’re ready now, my Lord.” Gamil announced.

“Then we shall depart.” Taelroy ordered, “Xal, thou shalt ride ahead with me in the vanguard. Gail, thou shalt ride behind as the rear guard. Move out!”

Without another word, the small caravan departed from the estate and began to hunt a dragon.