Meg spread her legs and crouched in a deep squat. Her claws shimmered in the morning sunlight. Above her the majestic DIRE EAGLE plummeted out of the sky, his head straight and wings tucked close to his side.

His golden feathers ruffled in the breeze and their eyes locked in a game of who would look away first. Meg's stomach rolled and crashed and tension crept into her limbs. She breathed in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, told herself to stay calm.

A higher level monster could still be killed by a low level player. All she had to do was play smart, stick and move, float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. And not get eaten by a giant bird.

The problem was she hadn't played smart. In her rush to protect the camels she had clambered onto a ten foot boulder and screamed at the creature. Now she was alone on the top of a rock and for the time being she was the only prey the eagle saw.

She flexed her claws. In seconds the bird would be on her and she would have to move like the wind or die. In her mind she pictured it. The bird swooping low, its wings flaring out and its body blocking out the sun. And then the razor sharp talons would extend and grab at whatever part of her was closest.

After that the bird would fight the wind and haul her up into the air and drop her. The talon damage alone would probably kill her but if she managed to survive the brutal impact the fall damage would finish her off.

Meg shoved the violent imagery aside and focused on being proactive. She had a claw attack, a bite and a tail attack, she had her horns as well but they wouldn't be good for an aerial foe.

"I'd give my right foot for a lance," she grumbled.

The bird picked up speed, its golden hide turning into a brown blur. She shook the tension out of her right claw and flexed her leg muscles. She would wait until the last second and jump to the side and hopefully nail it with a claw attack. Then she would hit the ground in a roll and take shelter against the rock.

She didn't have to kill it. She just had to keep it busy until the rest of the caravaners could join in with their weapons. It sounded easy. All theories did.

The bird's eyes narrowed and its beaks snapped. Its wings jerked outward and it flapped hard, catching the wind, and thrust out its talons. She saw a glimmer of dark nail and tan skin and then she dove to the right. The talons grabbed at empty air and she swiped with her own claws and dug a bloody furrow across the beast's side. And then she was falling.

The bird screamed and flapped its fourteen foot wingspan, kicking up dust and sand and rocks, and gained altitude. A spattering of blood fell from the wound on its side with a bloody number SIX above it. Meg glared at it and then she ran out of open air and hit the ground. She had envisioned a tight roll into a standing position that would allow her to run back to the rock but gravity and her low level acrobatics had other plans.

She hit the ground with a bone shaking thump and felt the wind rush out of her lungs. She gasped for breath and clawed at the sand. She had to get up, had to move, staying there was certain death and even if she wasn't playing a combat class anymore she refused to die so easily.

Her first successful breath burned as hot as Bruce's wine but it got her another and another until she could move again. She rolled over onto her hands and knees, braced herself for more pain, and pushed herself up onto her knees. The world swam in front of her like two drunks on a seesaw. A bloody THREE hovered in front of her and she cursed whoever thought fall damage made for a fun game mechanic.

The eagle swung around, its head swiveling to keep track of her. It could wait for the camels. She had made it personal and it wouldn't stop until she was dead. Meg did the math. After the fall she had five hit points left. The bird wouldn't have to wait for long.

Meg grit her teeth and got to her feet. Everything hurt right down to the individual scales on her body and she longed for the comfort of her bedroll. There was no time for rest though. She turned around, blinked through the dizziness, and took a step forward and then another.

Her legs trembled. Her vision swung left to right then right to left, like a damn carnival ride. Her foot pressed into sand, she stumbled and bit her tongue. A shadow blocked out the sun and she remembered the bird. She pushed onward, used her tail for balance, all she had to do was make it to the rock. Easy. Just one foot in front of the other.

"Get down you big idiot!"

Bruce's voice crashed through her stupor like a ten pound hammer and she gave up trying to reach the rock. Down was such an easier direction to go. She flung herself to the ground, tired and sore, and missing all of her heavy armor and watched the shadow creep closer.

"Reng Shandian!"

Meg looked to her right and saw Bruce running toward her. His thin chiseled features were twisted into a canvas of desperate wrath and in the depths of his eyes she saw something primordial and bitter that scared her more than the eagle.

He raced across the sand, twisting his hands around a ball of purple light as he ran, and with a savage snarl he hurled it up at the shadow above her. She watched it crackle through the air and disappear out of her sight, heard it crash into the bird with a sizzling smack and a scream and then she smelled burnt skin and feathers.

Bruce skidded to a halt and grabbed at her arm. "Get up," he snarled. "we're sitting ducks out here."

Meg struggled to her feet and they ran for the stone. This time her head cleared and her heart pumped and she ran like a bat out of hell. They crashed against the rock and whirled around to spot the eagle lining up for another dive.

"How much did you hit it for?" She said, panting.

Bruce wiped sweat from his mouth and shook his head. "Only TWENTY," he said. "I'm not familiar with the spell yet."

"That's more than I did," she said. "If I distract it, can you blast it again?"

Bruce glanced up at the large beast and groaned. "Why don't we let them handle it," he said.

Meg looked over at the caravaners. They crowded around the camels, armed with pikes and lances, knives, axes and even a few bows. Shaynala and Farook stood side by side with their son strapped to Shaynala's chest, each one armed with an iron tipped lance. They looked calm and ready, completely capable of defending their herd and each other.

But fourteen years of strategy and violence raced through Meg's skull. Instinct and memories screaming at her to go on the offensive, to bait the target and bleed it until it was dead, to grab the xp with both hands and pry it loose from the Eagle's bloody corpse.

She wasn't a knight anymore. She had no armor, no lance and a sliver of life left. The smart move would be to stay put and let the NPCs take care of it. But she couldn't do it. She flexed her claws and smiled.

"We're gonna sell those feathers for so much money," she said.

Bruce pushed his hair out of his face and summoned another purple ball between his hands. "When you put it like that, how can I refuse?"

Meg took a deep breath and charged forward. "Over here ya big bastard!" She said.

The bird's head snapped to attention and once again tucked its wings close to its body and dove. It cut through the air like a knife, eyes full of hate, feathers blowing in the wind, and let out a scream that rattled her scales.

The bird was quicker this time and the talons carved through the air and reached for her horns. Meg swore and dove face first into the ground, eating sand and dirt as she skidded to a stop. Bruce's command word split the air and the bird screamed again and fought its own momentum trying to rise.

Meg scrambled up and without thinking raced after the bird. She caught up to it as the bird started to climb and lashed out with her left hand. It was a clumsy last minute swing but her claws sliced across its ass end and a satisfying number SIX spilled out of the wound.

The bird flapped its wings once then twice and then the life ran out of it and the golden predator tumbled end over end until it came to a broken stop in front of the boulder. Meg's jaw dropped and she looked from her claw to the beast then back at her claw. The gentle sound of the gong surrounded her and she laughed.

QUEST COMPLETED: DEFEND THE HERD

100xp

+3xp HAND TO HAND

+6xp ATHLETICS

+6xp ACROBATICS

+2 REPUTATION WITH BRUCE

+3 REPUTATION WITH CARAVANERS

DIRE EAGLE DEFEATED: 75xp

A black box appeared in front of her and burned with golden calligraphy and she expanded the borders to read it better.

THROUGH DEDICATION AND HARD WORK YOU HAVE REACHED LEVEL ONE.

+3 ATTRIBUTE POINTS +2 ABILITY POINTS

RACIAL ABILITY UNLOCKED: FIRE BREATH (CONJURE A BREATH ATTACK WITH +2 FIRE DAMAGE MP=3)

HP RESTORED

ENDURANCE RESTORED

MP RESTORED

Meg dismissed the box and leapt into the air, shouting with joy. "Can you believe that Brucey baby?" She said. "we revoked his frequent flyer miles so hard he didn't know what hit him!"

Bruce brushed his hands together and sighed. "Next time let the commoners handle it," he said.

Meg jogged over to the eagle's corpse. Now that it was dead and still its immense size was even more impressive and she realized how stupid and lucky she had been. Bruce joined her in front of the corpse and bent over with his hands on his knees. A stream of sweat slipped down from his hairline and down the length of his regal nose. He wiped his face off with his sleeve and frowned as if he had just remembered his jacket was an antique.

"We make a good team," she said.

Bruce caught his breath and nodded. His pale face was red and slick with sweat and she put a hand out to steady him.

"I'm alright," he said. "I'm still not proficient with that spell, my father always said I should train more."

"How many big ass eagles did he kill?" Meg said. "you saved me big time boss."

He smirked and pushed himself upright as the caravaners closed in on them. "Don't do anything foolish like give the bird away" he said.

She looked at the eagle and saw through its fierce majesty. It became an object. Meat, beak, claws, organs and feathers. A product to sell. She pulled back and focused on the emptiness of its black eyes and the wounds still leaking blood. She reminded herself that it had been a living thing, out hunting for food, it wasn't evil, nor did it deserve to be killed.

She took both concepts and held them close to her heart until she was sure she wouldn't stray into the cruel inhuman brutality that plagued so many of the companies of the world.

"We owe you another thanks my friend," Shaynala said.

Meg smiled back at the beautiful nomad and said "I couldn't have done it without Bruce. His lightning kept me alive."

Farook leaned on his lance and studied the eagle, his face hard and lined with frustration and dilemma. "As much as I hate to admit it she is right," he said, looking at Bruce. "you saved my camels and perhaps our lives and for that I must thank you."

"You are welcome," Bruce said. "but I was only doing what any good employer would. Can't run a business if my employees get eaten."

"I haven't seen such blind stupidity since my husband asked my father for my hand," Shaynala said. "the eagle could have turned you into a pile of goop. It was beautiful."

Meg scratched behind her horns and laughed more out of nervousness than any real mirth. She never did well when all eyes were on her, unless the crowd was full of children, then she felt confident. It was hard not to when you were the only one who could count past three hundred.

"I know you wanted to leave immediately but would you mind waiting while we harvest the bird?" Bruce said.

Farook frowned and looked at his wife. Shaynala studied the creature then turned her gaze on her baby and smiled. "What do you think, little one?" She cooed. "should we wait?"

The baby giggled and stretched her limbs out and bounced in her harness. She was a tiny thing but already bronzed by the sun with a smooth head of dark curling hair and eyes that were identical to her father's.

"We will wait one hour," Shaynala said. "please make haste."

Bruce bowed deeply in front of her and turned to Meg. "We better get started," he said.

Meg looked at the eagle from beak to tail and tapped her chin in thought. The eagle was a little bigger than a Volkswagen, covered in a heavy coat of gold feathers that were layered against the bite of the desert wind. It would take hours to pluck, skin and carve it up and she didn't want to leave anything behind.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" She said.

Bruce folded his arms and leaned down to her level. "You'd rather be in a hot tub with the lunar opera than covered in bird blood?"

Meg looked at the crowd. The caravaners had gathered close to inspect their fallen enemy and now that the excitement was fading they had begun to drift away. She took a deep breath and looked up at Bruce.

"I'm going to do something stupid,” She said.

Bruce grit his teeth. “Please don’t.”

Meg ignored him and climbed on top of the eagle. The body sagged and shifted under her weight and she teetered for a moment before her tail balanced her out.

"Ladies and gentleman we're currently having a sale!" she said. "One silver piece per pound of meat. Three copper for a feather just pluck and pay, organs are going for five silver per pound, 10 silver for a foot, want the beak? Name a price and we'll negotiate."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He scrambled up onto the eagle and stood beside her with his hands on his hips and a smile as bright as the sun on his face.

"Don't be shy, don't miss out on your chance to own a piece of the beast who would have taken your lives!"

Farook broke away from the parting crowd and walked in a slow circle around the eagle. He came to a stop near the tail, squatted, and plucked six feathers from the tail and held them in one fist for them both to see.

"I will buy six feathers and one of the feet," he said. "And ten pounds of meat."

Meg slid down the side of the eagle and stumbled to the ground. Farook caught her and flashed a pearly white smile at her and she made another mental note to call her father.

"That'll be three silver pieces and eight copper, please," she said. "and if you let us use a cleaver I'll make it three silver even."

Farook laugh and clasped her by the forearm. "That is an agreeable deal," he said. "I will fetch the cleaver and your coin."

He pulled away but she held onto his arm and met his dark gaze and smiled. "I can't thank you enough," she said. "you have proven to be a generous and accommodating friend. I will sing the praises of your caravan wherever my path takes me."

Farook's mouth tensed and settled. She watched a wet sheen gloss over his eyes only to disappear in an instant and then he nodded and left for his yurt. Shaynala wandered in to fill his place and they watched him walk away, both of them appraising his lean handsome figure from behind.

"What are you waiting for?" Shaynala said. "place your orders, don't let your bellies miss out on such delicious meat!"

At her words the crowd trickled back to Bruce and the bird. Soon the air filled with shouts for meat and feathers. An argument broke out over the beak and a man haggled for the remaining foot. Bruce argued and haggled until everything was spoken for even the bones.

MADE A MEGA SALE:

+50xp

+30xp MERCHANT SKILL(LEVEL TWO ACHIEVED)

+3xp SOCIAL SKILL

At some point during the verbal sparring Farook returned with a set of cleavers and carving knives and he and Meg began the bloody work of butchering the carcass. Bruce stood off to the side with a rag over his nose and returned only when he was sure the messy part was over. In forty minutes the task was done. All sales were final and Bruce's pockets strained with the weight of a small fortune.

From his pack Bruce took out a slate tablet and a piece of chalk and handed it to her. He then set out a blanket and sat down in the sand and piled their money in front of him. He stacked the coins into neat piles and as he counted out loud she marked it down on the slate and converted each stack to their highest value.

For being so early in the game it was quite a haul. One she doubted she would be able to replicate for a while. At three copper pieces per feather they had made an easy twenty one thousand six hundred copper which came out to be two hundred and sixteen gold but their luck didn't stop there. For the three thousand pounds of meat they earned three hundred gold. They got three gold for the organs and two gold for the feet. A man bought the beak for five gold and the bones sold for a silver per pound netting them 90 more gold.

Meg did the math twice and let Bruce check her work. For forty minutes of work they had earned six hundred and eleven gold. With her thirty percent commission she made one hundred and eighty three gold while Bruce got to pocket four hundred and twenty eight of the remaining gold.

He counted out her commission and she dumped the square money into her coin pouch and listened to the cash register sound that accompanied the rising number until it ended with a final CHA CHING sound that sent shivers of ecstasy down her spine.

+183 GOLD( 183 Gold, 0 Silver, 50 Copper)

"I never expected to make this much so soon," she said, bouncing the coin pouch in her hand.

Bruce put his share of the money into his own pouch and placed it back in his jacket. He took the slate and chalk back from her then put it away along with the blanket. "The sale was a stroke of genius," he said. "I might be exhausted from spell casting or maybe the sun has finally cooked my brain but maybe this desert isn't so bad after all.

"Looks like we're starting to move out," Meg said. "I'll go talk to Master Leroy about real estate."

Bruce put a hand out and stopped her. "Keep your wits about you," he said. "even honest friends will become killers when the scent of gold is on the wind."

She met his gaze and nodded then wandered off to find Master Leroy. She was shaking with excitement. She was sure the loot prices would be nerfed quickly but for the time being the gold was a huge leap forward for her new character. She could even afford to take lessons from Master Leroy. And she hadn't even completed her level up yet. With a growing list of things to do in her head Meg doubled her pace, her body awash with raging storms of delirious joy and nervous excitement.