Diana waved her hand, a gust of wind splattering Hare’s blood away from the skimmer to splash back over Plume. “Whoops,” she said, pausing for a moment look over the half-elf’s stunned expression. “Well, that went about as I had expected, all things considered. Hare should have fled to the Empire long ago.”

Plume blinked the blood from his eyes, reaching up to wipe his face with the back of his hand and leaving a smear of crimson over his forehead and cheeks. As she had expected? “He never had a chance, then?” Plume asked, staring down at his captain’s bloody remains.

“Of course not,” Diana said. “Do you really think I would have wagered a skimmer with such flimsy terms? This thing isn’t even mine in the first place.”

“Diana.” Christoph reabsorbed his sword, reaching out to push his skimmer away from the pool of blood spreading over the area. “The guild might have looked kindly on us if we presented one of the captains to them. Also, I don’t appreciate being your little games.”

“There’s no way Hare would have let us take him back to the city,” Diana replied, turning away from the speechless half-elf. “He’s always been stubborn, even back at the forest. Besides, you should have thought of that before you slaughtered the Regret’s entire crew.”

“If I’d had taken a prisoner back then, we would have had to drag him across the entire desert,” Christoph said, walking back over the crimson puddle to stand in front of Plume. “Could this man really have escaped in one day?”

Diana waved off his concerns. “Let’s not dwell on the past,” she said. “What about the half-blood?”

“Looks totally bloody to me,” Larry said. “What’s going on here?” The trio of adventurers approached Diana’s hovering ball of fire with weapons drawn, the merchants barely visible as they cowered in the limited security of their wagons.

“It’s fine,” Christoph said. “We had an intruder, but I dealt with him.”

“From that crash?” Cecilia asked. “I thought elves were meant to be fragile.”

Plume turned towards the trio, taking a step towards them and away from Hare’s killers. The clay under his captain’s body bubbled as the blood soaked down into the earth, dissolving the hard ground into a puddle of mud. Christoph looked down at the remains, ignoring the dog-woman’s question.

“From that crash?” Larry asked, mimicking Cecilia’s tone of voice. “I thought elves were meant to be fragile.”

“Cut it out, Larry,” Barry hissed. “Are you trying to piss him off?”

“You can have this one,” Christoph said with a scowl. “As an apology for allowing an intruder to get so far into the camp.”

“He only got to the skimmer, though,” Barry said. “That’s not so far, really.”

“No,” Christoph smiled. “He got all the way to the fire, passed right by you to wake up his friend. I know, I was watching.”

“You…” Cecilia’s voice trailed away with a swish of her tail as Barry tugged at her shoulder. “But Barry,” she whined. “He’s always so mean…”

“That settles it then,” Diana said. “The sun rises soon, we might as well set off for Manitas City while everyone’s awake. Frederick! Geoff! Pack up your gear, we’re moving out!”

“Eh,” Cecilia complained. “Why does she get to decide, it’s not like she’s the boss.”

“It’s cause the bosses are afraid of her, of course,” Barry replied. “Well, they should be, though.”

“Of course,” Larry repeated.

…

Manitas City… it wasn’t until the city gates came into view that Plume’s situation seemed to sink in. He tugged at the ropes that Barry had used to tie him up, turning around on the back of the wagon to catch glimpses of the walls over his shoulders.

“Calm down,” Larry said. “You’ll see it soon enough.”

“I want to see it now!” Cecilia replied, and Plume closed his mouth as he realized the adventurer hadn’t been speaking to him after all. The canid woman was bouncing on the balls of her feet, trying to improve her view of the guild building over the city walls. Plume raised an eyebrow as her wagging tail slapped into Larry’s leg with a repetitive thump, her ears pricked forwards as if she could hear the city lying in wait.

“I don’t suppose I can convince you not to turn me into the guild,” the half-elf said.

“No way,” Cecilia replied, hopping up and down in a manner that caused her chest to rise and fall with each bounce. It was something that might have caught his eye were she not of the beast races.

“The guild’ll pay us a gold coin for you,” Larry said. “Pirates aren’t cheap, you know.” The adventurer grinned as Plume slumped back against the wagon, the bulky crates digging into his back under the well-worn cover.

“If you had money, that’d be another matter, of course.” Barry said.

“Do you have any?” Cecilia asked, ears turning towards him as she continued stretching up on her tiptoes.

Plume shook his head in reply. Any money the pirates picked up was traded out to the bandit groups for supplies. There was nobody else that would take it, and it made no sense to keep currency they could never spend.

“Eh?” The beast-woman made a face. “None at all? How about crystals? You smell like a monster.”

Like a monster… Was she talking about the landshark blood? Ah, he still had the teeth in his pocket! “I’ve got something!” he said, jerking upright so quickly he would have fallen from the wagon were it not for the rope tying him down.

“Let’s see it then,” Barry said.

“Uh…” Plume stared back at him, twisting around to show him the ropes.

“The ropes, Barry,” Larry said. “Here, I’ll get it for you. Where is it?”

“My pocket,” Plume said. “It’s landshark teeth.” Were they valuable? The landsharks were the top predators of the region, they’d have to be worth something at least.

“Landshark teeth!” Larry dug into the half-elf’s chest pocket, pulling out the large crystal fangs. “These’ll get us more than a gold coin!”

“So you won’t take me to the guild then?” Plume asked.

“What? No, of course we will,” Larry said. “I mean, we’ll still get a coin for you.”

Plume froze for a moment. What had he been expecting from an adventurer?

“Just kidding!” Barry said, breaking into a laugh. “We’ll cut you free. Just not until we’re at the gate, of course.”

“Of course!” Cecilia yelled, whirling towards the youth with her arms raised in glee. The brothers shared a look, raising their eyebrows at their companion.

“Your delivery’s off,” Barry said.

“Way off,” said Larry.

“I know that!” Cecilia said with balled fists, her voice lowering into a grumble as she continued. “I just wanted to join in for once…”

“Anyway, we’ll untie you up ahead,” Barry said. “Wouldn’t do to have you trying to murder our clients in the meantime.”

Plume relaxed in his bonds, letting off a sigh as the city approached. The captain might not have approved, but there was no other option. No pirate really held the conviction to hang, after all.

“It’s a shame we didn’t catch you going the other way,” Cecilia said. “My sisters would have given me more than a gold coin for you.”

“For a slave?” Larry asked. “Are they the type to keep them as pets, or actual slaves?”

“One of each,” Cecilia said. “I’ve got three of them. My littlest sis would probably sell him off to the dwarves, though.”

“Damn dwarves,” Plume spat. “I’d rather hang.”

…

Despite what common sense might dictate, Manitas was a city of trade. Seated firmly in the center of the continent, it was an oasis which marked the very heart of the desert, connecting each of the foreign territories which surrounded the sun-baked wastes. Pirate ships, bandit groups, and monstrous beasts were a perpetual danger to anyone travelling over the highways, but once inside the city you would be protected by the looming walls, translucent dome-shaped wards and the might of the adventurer’s guild. However, not everyone who approached the gates was let through immediately.

“The pirates are a constant threat on the plains,” Wesley said, leaning across his desk. “I’m sure you can understand why you were stopped by the guards.”

“Of course, of course,” Christoph replied with a nod. “A skimmer is a skimmer. I can assure you, however, that neither of us are actually pirates.”

“That may be so, but until I can determine that for sure I cannot allow you access to Manitas City,” Wesley said. “As the captain of the guards, I can never be too careful.”

Diana rolled her eyes from where she sat nearby, and Wesley glanced over to the elf for a second. “Moreover,” he said, “if your companion is who she claims to be, the guild will certainly have some… business with her.”

“I’m sure they will,” Christoph replied. “I told her not to follow me here, but she seemed determined to come anyway. Can I ask where your men are holding my craft?”

“Your…” Wesley sighed down at his desk. Why did all of the strange ones always come from the west? If he had ridden that skimmer in from the north or south, it would be some other guard’s duty to deal with him. “Did you really take down the Landshark’s Regret?”

“The Charodontia, too.” Christoph replied. “Although Diana helped with that one.”

A knock at the door interrupted Wesley before he could make a retort, and a thin man stepped through the door. He wore a long white cloak, green feathers jutting from his collar like a bird that had ruffled itself up to intimidate a rival. Immediately rising to his feet, the guard captain bowed low over his desk at the newcomer, armor clanking as he moved.

“Guild Master Roethus!” he said. “For you to have come personally-”

“Hush, Wesley,” Roethus replied, waving his hand out as he turned to lock eyes onto the elven woman lounging off to the side. “Diana, it’s good to see you still alive.”

“Hmmm, how are you still around?” Diana asked. “Aren’t humans supposed to wither up and die when they get that old?”

“I’m not even out of my first century yet, you know?” the Guild Master replied, reaching up to readjust his gold-framed glasses. Christoph frowned at the exchange. Not even out of his first century? The thin man looked maybe thirty, forty years old at the most.

“This must be the gentleman responsible for sinking the Charodontia and the Regret, then?” Roethus walked past Diana to where Christoph had stood from his own chair in front of Wesley’s desk.

“Correct,” Christoph replied. “I destroyed the Charodontia and personally slew the captains of both ships.”

“I’m very grateful,” Roethus said. “It’s a pity you couldn’t bring in one of the captains alive, but still, you have done us a great service.”

Christoph shot a glare towards his companion, the elf giving a shrug before Roethus continued to speak. “However,” he said, “I also understand that you have been declared a non-person by the Creator’s Church?”

“That is also correct,” Christoph replied with a nod. “I am afflicted by a condition where, much like the crystal monsters, I require constant mana to survive. The church mistook this for a sign of the demonic.”

“Can we be sure that is not the case?” The guild master stared over into Christoph’s eyes, frowning slightly as he did so.

“Of course it isn’t,” Diana said. “The human church is useless indeed if they cannot even distinguish between a beast and a demon.”

“Rather than not being able to distinguish, the Creator’s Church simply does not discriminate between the two,” Roethus replied. “It has caused problems with the dwarves in the past.”

“I remember,” Diana said with a scoff. “The humans accused them of violating the Convention by attempting to tame the beasts. Ridiculous.”

“I can assure you that I am not one of Tempter’s ravenous children,” Christoph said. “My hunger is not so excessive, merely insistent at times. I also bear the… mark of the crystal beasts.”

“Oh? Well, we can save that for the council,” Roethus said, turning to leave the room. “Follow me, you two. I’ve called the council together so you can try and convince us not to take off both your heads and sent them back to Starthall in a nicely cushioned crate.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Diana said. “I used to be part of your ‘council’ too, remember? I can’t imagine the adventurers have grown much in the few years I’ve been away.”