Narkato: known colloquially as the Scoundrel’s Port. It was the busiest port in all of Natra, the land of utter neutrality in Berodyl where no power ruled singularly. It was only the busiest, though, thanks to the virtue of being on the Culldan Channel’s shores, making voyages to and from it relatively safe… though it also made it prime pickings for the various gangs that ran rampant all across Natra. Country of criminals, land of the truly free, and where you would find that the cost of true freedom is a dear one indeed.

The Toothy Crocker didn’t linger in the port of Narkato, conducting its business and getting back out onto the water. Livia, Krey, and Emilie wondered if they’d ever see that ship and its crew ever again.

“I had hoped to not be back in Natra for some time more,” Krey murmured. “The city of Dunlark lies to the north east of this wild land. I suggest we make it our next big destination.”

“I agree,” said Livia. “Dunlark Spire are a part of Fyren’s plot somehow, and we need to find out why and put a stop to it.”

“Then let’s stock up and plot our route,” Emilie concurred.

They found a relatively safe spot to plan the next set of legs of their journey, away from the bustling crowds of scum and villains. Amid various repeated warnings about Narkato itself, Krey eventually convinced Emilie and Livia on a solid route through Natra: across the Ijiak Open, through the city of Aldiphor, along the Linabis Uplands, up into Montar Jungle. Once they traversed the jungle, they would be on Dunlark’s doorstep, and in view of its spire. With that settled, they returned their attention to the here and now, to the perilous port town that they now found themselves in.

They stepped back onto the street and slowly worked their way up-stream of the river of bodies. They brushed shoulders (and other parts, given vast differences in height) with all sorts of folk, and none cared to pay them any mind. Good, Livia thought. Despite that thought, however, Livia couldn’t help staring at some of the people she’d never seen the like of before; Berodyl was home to many cultures other than the human ones. There was something about many of them, though, that Livia couldn’t help but notice…

Lots of them… are missing a ring finger…

She decided it had to be coincidence, and pushed the thought aside.

They reached a more open area, and Emilie stopped by a public notice board. Krey and Livia looked over her shoulders, and they saw that she was reading a bill-o’-bounty: a wanted poster. The mugshot was burned into the paper with magic, a human woman’s face; she had olive-tinged skin, black hair tied back in two thin ponytails, and heterochromatic eyes— the left one blue and the right one green. The text read:

LU SEN

A.K.A: LITTLE MISS RUNAWAY

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

REWARD: FIVE HUNDRED GYLT (DEAD)/ONE THOUSAND GYLT (ALIVE)

“Not the most lucrative bill on the board…” Krey stroked his chin. “But an intriguing one, given the biller. Look…” he prodded the header of the poster with his finger. “the Tabra-Tō Decakon shrine. That’s a long way from here— other side of the continent.”

“Not to mention a public, spiritual community,” Livia pointed out. “Doesn’t this feel strange for a bunch of religious types?”

“The religious types of Jiel,” Emilie interjected, “are a great deal more passionate than the rest of us, and that’s putting it lightly. They do not take disrespect of their ways lightly… nor do they post this bill lightly. The reward might be small, relatively speaking, but we should consider less the exact sum and more its context. This is likely all the shrine can afford…”

“Making it quite meaningful in its own right,” Krey finished. “That means this Little Miss Runaway is either really dangerous, or she really pissed these people off.”

“Either way,” Livia said, “we’ll have to keep an eye out. If the wanted posters have come this far, then so has she.”

In that moment, they realised that all the people around them were murmuring about something going on behind them. They turned around to look into the centre of the area, where the crowds were parting as something approached… as someone approached. Livia had seen many who seemed strange to her, but the woman who parted the way with her mere presence was truly exceptional. She had dark blue skin… and scales… the scales covering her arms, legs, and her back and sides. The front of her torso, neck, and head were scaleless, and appeared human-like, but her extremities were like that of… of…

Kind of like a myrewyrm’s, Livia realised. Or whatever creatures in this world are equivalent. Amid her scales, the woman had pale, golden feathers, which also crowned her shoulder-length, flat hair that was the same colour as her body; her eyes were a fiercer gold than her feathers. She was naked except for the brown bra and loincloth that preserved her dignity, and even those she seemed to wear begrudgingly. On her back was slung a large, rectangular case of some sort, as tall as her and shining like metal, only spared from dragging across the floor by the angle at which it was suspended; she didn’t seem to feel the weight of it at all.

Krey and Emilie knew what she was. Krey spoke quietly as they watched the strange woman pass. “I’ve only seen the draken of Tambur a few times before… and never a feathered one like her. I didn’t know there were feathered dragons.”

“They’re supposedly a rare mutation,” Emilie added. “I suspect nobody present has seen her ilk before.”

“Dragons?!” Livia burst, drawing eyes from the crowd… including hers. Livia’s eyes nearly dropped out of her face. The force of that blistering gaze irked her into manoeuvring behind Krey in an attempt to break line of sight. The draken woman’s face didn’t change, and she just kept walking. “Shit… guys, I am so sorry.”

“What was that about?” Krey snipped.

“Dragons, I…” Livia cleared her throat. “They were just a myth back in Aubade, a bed time story for children. We had myrewyrms, sure, but… dragons were described as something totally above that. A reptilian royalty among monsters, gods of beasts that could breathe magic and rend all.”

Emilie smiled and nodded. “An apt description if I’ve ever heard one. That woman is a draken… the man-shaped children of the dragons and their subculture races.”

Krey’s eyes flashed with recollection. “Remember that magic rifle we found back at Ardour Temple? The one we took from the Dunlark Spire soldier.”

“Yeah,” Livia said with anticipation.

“I reckon it was the draken who made it. I’ve seen firsthand the marvels their machinists and artificers have managed to make.”

“Maybe she could confirm that for us,” Livia suggested.

Emilie shook her head. “Judging from how everyone was reacting to her, I don’t think we want to be so brazen as to expect such information from her. We should keep our eyes open for other draken we might cross paths with, ones that… elicit less of a response from the general public.”

Once the atmosphere of the town returned to normal, they continued moving towards its centre.