Gustav sighed loudly and went to find Elise. Working for the Major General was always a chore. But as much as he hated it, he did not dislike working for him. The Major General was one of the better people. He was also a friend of his tribe. Maybe talking to that idiot of a Lycan could help him find Elise by her scent?

He shook his head. He highly doubted the sorry excuse of a wolf would leave the manor to do something he claimed was beneath him. Gustav still didn't understand why Lycans were so proud of their heritage. A spirit, especially Fenris, was powerful. But he doubted a simple magical wolf could defeat a real dragon, especially one as old as the earth it stood on.

He flew through the air and saw a lone mercenary, a young one who looked like an archer, standing in front of the Association's main building, waiting for something. He, or she, seemed to be one of the Beastkin, the ears a clear sign. Asking the beastkin to help him find someone was probably the best course of action. He doubted that any human, except the guards, would help him. But asking the guards to help him when they could be doing something more important was a waste.

The archer also seemed to be a rather inexperienced mercenary. That was great, the beastkin would probably welcome the simple task of finding someone much more than diving into the sewers or getting rid of the cursed greenskins.

He looked for a place to land and spotted an alley wide enough for his wings, but far from the market and therefore hopefully rarely visited. He landed there and brushed off his clothes. Gustav flicked away the lone beetle that had landed on his suit, turned and stared into the cold gleaming iron of an enchanted dagger. He looked up and glared at a pathetic excuse of a thief.

"Your valuables or your life, mage," the man said, twirling his dagger, perhaps to intimidate Gustav, "don't do anything stupid."

Unfortunately, his attempt at intimidation was ridiculous. Gustav had seen more dangerous monsters than the man had teeth in his mouth. Gustav sighed. Why was it that people, especially those of the more illicit professions, were always so hollow when it came to their skulls? The man in front of him was probably as stupid as he looked. He obviously hadn't learned from the event that had hurt him so much that half his face was made of scars.

The Dragen stepped forward and stared into the man's brown eyes before punching him lightly in the stomach. His fist dug into the soft flesh, a rather unhealthy sound followed. Gustav heard the air being forced out of the man's lungs before he collapsed. Staring down at the unconscious man, Gustav said aloud, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

With a smile, he turned and stared at the young mage who had entered the alley. It was, once again, a human. This human held a sword with a blue glowing crystal in its hilt.

The woman sheated her sword in a sheath so expensive that she was either a masterful thief or filthy rich. She raised her hands and said, "I am no thief, if that's what you think. I am here on behalf of my aunt. She told me that the Margrave hired her to investigate the recent murders. The Margrave thought it was a skinwalker, but it seems it was just another human."

"Your aunt?" asked Gustav. He eyed the woman. Her clothes were in stark contrast to the man he had beaten earlier. Only someone with at least some wealth would wear clothes like hers.

"You are?" he asked, "I know the headmaster of the Association ... So I wouldn't lie if I were you."

The woman frowned, "You know the old hag .... I mean, my aunt?"

Gustav grinned, his old friend had a family? He had never known that.

"Yes. I fought with and against her when I was younger," he said, laughing, "I must admit, you don't seem like her niece. She radiates incompetence."

The woman scratched her head awkwardly, "Well, it was a series of fortunate events that brought me to where I am now. You don't mind if I take the man with me, do you?"

She pointed with her right foot to where the unfortunate murderer lay.

"I don't mind," she said, "but please tell your aunt that Gustav is in Aschen for the foreseeable future."

There were still problems they had left unresolved. Perhaps now was the time to resolve them?

The woman nodded before walking towards the man and lifting him up. Although she was a mage, she certainly had some strength. The way she lifted the man looked quite effortless. She looked at Gustav and said, "Pleased to meet you, my name is Alexandra, but my friends call me Alex."

Gustav just nodded. He had already told her his name. He said goodbye to her and quickly left the alley. His gaze wandered over the market. He saw that the archer was there, but she or he seemed to be involved in a verbal argument between a handful of people.

Mercenaries... as much as he welcomed their strength, were the same everywhere. A bunch of rowdy brats who needed a spanking from their mothers. It seemed his friend had neglected some of their training. When he had been younger, when mercenaries had some honour, they had not behaved like brats. But if they or the mercenaries' mothers weren't here, he would gladly do their job.

He walked slowly towards the mercenaries and noticed that a small group of guards were already on their way to stop them before the fight escalated. Gustav looked around for their captain, or whoever their leader was. They all looked the same, but one of them wore chainmail, rather expensive enchanted chainmail, instead of leather. Gustav wondered how the man, probably the leader, had managed to amass enough money to employ an enchanter.

He decided to just let them do their work, after all, all the citizens paid their taxes to let them do their work. Sadly, these guards seemed incompetent. One of them had been talking to one of the mercenaries, a guy who was far too proud simply because of the fact that he was pretty well armed, and then had left.

Gustav quickly turned to their leader and said, "What a beautiful day, gentlemen. I assume your shift is over, otherwise I can't explain why you do your job in a way that puts even the most novice guard to shame."

Based on what he had seen and the fact that the leader of the guards was quite well equipped, corruption was the most likely explanation. One of the guards was about to say something, but was quickly interrupted by their leader.

"Sir," he said, "I'm afraid you're mistaken. We have spoken to them and concluded that it would be wiser to leave them alone. Their fight, if it should come to one, is justified."

"I don't doubt that," Gustav said with a smile, "but it would be rather shameful to have four grown men fighting one person, wouldn't it? Quite dishonourable, I might add. Even a demon has more honour than her."

Gustav's smile didn't waver, he simply asked, "I assume you'll all be kind enough to tell me your names?"

None of them answered, and he sighed, "It would be a shame if this escalated, wouldn't it? So I hope for your sake that you fine gentlemen will be kind enough to tell me your names before something happens that you will surely regret."

"You dare threaten us?" one of the guards, a small one, probably a dwarf or more likely a young human, asked loudly. He seemed rather agitated. It was evident that patience was not one of his virtues.

"We are guards employed by the lord of this city," another boasted loudly. Clearly, what they lacked in intellect, honour and patience, they made up for in pride.

"I can see that," Gustav said, "you are really lucky to have found such a wonderful job. It was a wonderful day to meet you."

He smiled and added, "I'm afraid I'm not as important as you. I am merely an old man serving under the Crow's banner. I think you have never heard of him. He is but a simple man."

One of the guards hesitated before gathering all his courage and saying, "The Crow? You lie, old man."

Gustav just shook his head and thought, "I really wish Tobias would just give us some kind of undead crow or whatever to rub in the faces of those who don't believe us. Maybe the smell of death would make them a little smarter. But ... that's doubtful."

He turned and walked towards the mercenaries and the beastkin, who were dangerously close to drawing their weapons. That was something that was not allowed in the city, unless you were a guard or wanted to use a weapon for self-defence. He doubted either was the case here.

"Please calm down," he said, raising his voice, "it would be rather inconvenient for you if this were to be reported to the headmaster or the lord of these wonderful lands."

One of the mercenaries, a human, how unexpected, turned and hissed, "Shut up, grandpa. This is between us."

Gustav's smile faded. The only people who were allowed to call him grandpa were his granddaughter and Jacobina. No little puny person who felt high and mighty because he had killed a few wolves and slimes was allowed to call him grandpa. He exhaled, thankfully no white fire, that would have scared them for the rest of their pathetic life.

"I..." he wanted to continue, but somehow the mercenaries seemed rather tense. He tried to figure out why, but he couldn't see. The guards were still standing there, rather aghast. The passers-by were trying to move away as best they could in case a fight broke out.

So far, everything looked as normal as it could be.

The only thing out of the ordinary was the mercenary woman he had met in the alley. She unceremoniously had dropped the unconscious, perhaps even dead, assassin on the ground and was staring at the mercenaries. The young woman was also clearly angry, if he could interpret her emotions correctly.

"Do you want to fight one of the newcomers?" she asked loudly. "Did you lose to a slime or why are you trying to stroke your little ego with the same hands you use to enjoy yourself?"

The other humans quickly shook their heads and said, "No, no. Alex, we're just trying to help her."

"Wonderful, you wanted to teach her a lesson? Free of charge? I had assumed you were as broke as they come," she paused and laughed, "But I doubt people with your lack of talent would be considered anything other than scum ... and when did I give you permission to call me Alex? Do you want me to fucking kill you?"

The mercenaries slowly shook their heads. But that was probably not enough to be considered an apology of any kind; human customs were strange.

"Well," said Alexandra, "I'm just wondering why your group is even allowed to be a member of the Association."

"But that thing," said one of the mercenaries angrily, spitting on the ground, "there's a child! Why are you allowing them to join the Association?"

"Yes, I mean, I understand that you allowed the Monia to join, she passed the entrance exam, and she claimed that the Red Lion was her teacher ... but the Lycan? She looks like she can barely draw her bow!" the little mercenary asked.

"That thing?" asked Alex, glaring at the man, "With a mindset like that, you shouldn't be in Aschen or in the Association. Race, age and gender don't fucking matter. For all I care, a sentient, ten-million-year-old golem built by the Forerunners could join us. Even the golem's little finger would be more competent than your group."

"But the nobles?" asked another mercenary, who was not part of the group trying to fight the Lycan, but seemed more like an innocent bystander.

"I don't give a damn about the nobles. They can raise the age limit to a fucking hundred years for all I care. You and I know that the talent someone has is more important. If an eight year old can beat me up, why should I tell her she can't join? Do you expect me to be like 'Sorry, you are strong but not strong enough, sorry, now let me accept these idiots into the Association.' Now piss off before I forget my manners!"

"Not that there are any left," someone muttered quietly.

She tried to find out who had uttered those words. But the man was nowhere to be seen. Alexandra sighed and eyed the man lying on the ground before picking him up. She nodded to Gustav before going through the open door into the old building. Gustav stood stunned, staring at the mercenaries, who also looked rather perplexed.

They eyed him. They looked at the Lycan archer and then decided to run away. He sighed, why was the headmaster's niece as foul as the old woman? Couldn't she at least have taught her proper manners? Or was this a mercenary thing?