Artemian slammed his empty tankard atop the table and glared across the room at the bar wench, busy chatting with new arrivals. She heard the noise and her expression changed from joy to annoyance. Reluctantly, she filled a new tankard, strolled over to his table, retrieved his empty one, and slammed the new one on the table. Golden beer sloshed about, dripping out of the tankard and pooling at its base.

"I'm not paying for this one!" he cried out before taking a great gulp and wiping the foam from his lips.

"I don't want your stinking coppers anyway!" she fired back, though he knew she really did. He sat in one of Our Lady's dirtiest and ramshackle taverns dubbed The Smiling Rat. It was busier than usual as it was one of the few remaining places a man could come and drink his sorrows away. That Black Knight had destroyed half the city and the only taverns left were ones like this one or those far too expensive for lowly folk such as himself.

I had been great once, he thought before taking another swig. Artemian the Great Hunstman, they had called me. Now I am nothing...

He recalled the day where his life had changed to the worse, an act that seemed to happen more consistently the more alcohol he drank. He remembered the three women, strapped to stakes and awaiting death by flame. Though his mind was foggy he could still clearly see the middle woman, Belle, bulging in size, growing fur, and becoming the beast he had been hunting for so long. He had battled it and barely escaped alive.

Artemian glanced down at his left leg and winced as a lance of pain speared through his body. It had been broken and shattered in several places and was still healing, though doing better than he'd expected. Frenisian healers had done their best to save it and, though they had been costly, the money appeared to have been well spent. After that, the drinking had begun.

Belle had always been the most beautiful woman he had ever set his eyes on and though he had met many pretty women, he had never stopped wanting her. That monster everyone called Beast had taken her from him, however. At least, that was what he had always thought. It was all changed now. Belle was Beast and Beast was Belle. He couldn't have one without the other and couldn't kill one without killing the other either. The woman he had always wanted as a wife was also the creature had had wanted most to slay. What was a man supposed to do with that?

His failure at stopping Beast had been noticed by many, however, and no one wanted to hire a bounty hunter that couldn't complete a job. Work was hard to come by these days and Artemian spent his days seeking the bottom of a tankard. It was the only hunt he always completed.

It was proving far more expensive than his healing leg, however.

He had already lost his home in a ridiculous bet, foolishly revealed to strangers where he had stashed his savings in drunken stupor, and very nearly had his bow and quiver of enchanted arrows stolen. The weapon was the only thing he retained from his old life as one of Faeryum's greatest bounty hunters. He still needed it, he said to himself. Beast still needed to die. If he couldn't have Belle than neither would that vile creature. It was the one goal he had left, even if he had yet to undertake it.

One more drink, he thought for the umpteenth time. After this drink I'll go hunting. Yes, just one more...

He had just finished his tankard and was about to slam it on the table for another when a commotion at the door gave him pause. A large, rotund man with dirty teeth and a bald head walked in with a great grin on his sweaty face.

"Next round is on me, Leela!" he croaked with a guffaw. "It's a good day for Cookie and I want to share it with all these friends of mine!" He then flipped a gold coin across the room and it landed on the bar counter, spinning about before falling flat.

Leela, the barmaid, widened her eyes at it in shock. "Cookie, you can barely keep a few coppers on you! Where did you get real gold coins?"

Cookie sat down at a table near Artemian's and was soon accompanied by several men the hunter assumed were his real friends. "A bit of information sells for quite a bit these days, sugarplum." He then raised a meaty finger and wagged it emphatically. "I always knew that old judge Frollo was the best thing for this city."

"Oh, you're full of it, Cookie," said one of his friends. "If it wasn't for him that beast would have never attacked us."

"You don't know that for sure, Willum. Besides, now that he's back in power, thanks to our good prince, the rapes and thefts have already gone down since that demon attacked. He's a hard one, I won't argue that, but it's what some people need."

"Heard any news on that Selvina girl?" asked another man seated at Cookie's table.

"As a matter of fact, that's why it's a good day, lads! Remember how for years I was Captain Hook's loyal and talented cook? Well, after Peter Pan blew up old Jolly Roger, I was out of a job and no captain wants to hire an old cook as meself. Times were full of struggle, I tell you, but then the judge gave me salvation!

"All he was asking for was a bit of information on that girl and as luck would have it, I had some! She was on the Jolly Roger for a while and she was actually supposed to give me a hand with cooking but the little bitch never helped once. Not a single time! It ain't easy feeding a frigate's crew, my friends. They're always complaining and never appreciate what you do for them. So, since I was down on my luck, and never really owed that bitch nothing, I thought that I'd go see the judge and tell him what I knew about her. No one knew what she looked like, except me!"

"And he believed you?" asked Willum.

"Of course he believed me!" Cookie said, smashing a fist on the table. "I told her what she looked like and who she hung out with and Frollo gave me my reward! But that's not even the crazy part!"

After a pause, one of his friends finally asked, "What's the crazy part, Cookie?"

"She was one of them girls that Frollo had called a witch! She was supposed to burn at the stake with that little mouthy one and the werebeast woman. I would have been a prisoner there too but old Cookie was too smart for that. Last I heard she was captured by Peter Pan and taken on his ship."

His friends digested the news and all seemed to recall that fateful night. Artemian was doing the same, remembering the other two women tied on the two stakes flanking Belle. One was short, rather young, and had quite a mouth on her. The other was blonde, slightly older, green-eyed, and had been crying for most of it. He had seen them before that, however. During his hunt for Beast in the castle he had taken residence in, those same two girls had been accompanied by a young man and a redheaded woman in a red cloak.

He smiled as the vision of his arrow piercing the cloaked one in the chest resurfaced, soon followed by the death of her huge wolf. Thinking back to the events in the castle, his mind recalled the brief conversation he had had with them.

"I'm Selvina and no job is worth breaking the bond of true love. You should know that, Artemian. If not, then I'll help you remember..."

She had looked so brave, he thought back. It had clearly been her first time taking a real stand against a true threat but she had done it well enough.

She had apparently survived immolation and been captured by Peter Pan instead. Where she could be now was anyone's guess. How someone so young and unremarkable could be so important for an unstoppable demon made no sense to Artemian but it didn't matter.

"Peter Pan, eh?" said one of Cookie's friends. "She's probably dead then. That's too bad. That reward for her could have made me a king!"

Artemian found himself quietly agreeing with him.

"Not true, Charlie," argued Cookie. "If sailing with Hook has taught me anything is how people don't appreciate fine cooking and how Peter Pan has several little islands he likes to stash his treasures on. I bet if someone checked them all out he might just find that Selvina girl."

"Do you remember where they are?"

"Course I do! I already made a map of them and gave them to the good judge. He really thanked me for that and gave me another bag of gold too! I don't know why some people don't like the man. He's been nothing but nice to me."

Artemian's table was thrown aside and his chair flew back as he lunged to Cookie's table, reached over, and grabbed the fat man by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close. His friends sat stiffly and watched wordlessly, their eyes wide in shock.

"I need that map," Artemian growled. If he could capture Selvina and bring her to Frollo he'd have more than enough money to acquire the supplies he needed to hunt Beast down.

"The judge has it," Cookie said, his initial fear turning to anger. "Go talk to him, huntsman."

"You made it for the judge, you can do it again for me."

"Now why in the Abyss would I do that?" Cookie growled, shoving Artemian's hand aside. He then stood his bulk up and stared the bounty hunter down. "Go drink your failures away, Artemian, and let a true bounty hunter find that little bitch. Frollo, and all of Frenis, has no use for you."

Artemian clenched his teeth and leapt across the table, slamming a fist into Cookie's face. The large man stumbled back but before Artemian could continue his assault he was bashed, elbowed, punched, and beaten by the man's friends. Amidst flashes of black and white he was roughly grabbed, lifted up, and thrown across the room to crash into the front door.

Artemian raised himself on all fours and watched Cookie toss him his bow and arrows at him. "I'd take them and sell them but no one would buy a weapon from a failed bounty hunter. Get out of here, Artemian, and leave the bounty hunting to real professionals. Your time is over."

Artemian gathered his bow, slung it over his shoulder, and replaced his discarded arrows into his quiver. With everyone in the tavern watching him, he stood up and stumbled outside.

Inside, Cookie watched him leave and shook his head, laughing. "What a fool. Now, where's my drink?!"

****

Later that night, after spending far too much on drinks, Cookie was shuffling and stumbling down the street, empty bottle in hand. He gave it a swig, remembered there was nothing in it, and then tossed it away. He had been hero that night, he recalled with a grin. Everyone had loved him. Sometimes good times were expensive, he reasoned with himself.

A shadow moved to his left and he narrowed his blurry eyes at it. "Don't you be trying anything. I've got Judge Frollo's protection on me, lad. You don't want him to come after you, do you?"

The shadow enlarged and revealed itself to be a man. In one hand was a bow and it the other was the bowstring, pulled back and bearing a glowing, enchanted arrow.

"Give me that map," the archer said menacingly.

Cookie spat. "What are you going to do, Artemian? Kill me? Good luck getting me to draw you a map if I'm dead."

The bow lowered slightly and there was the sudden snap of unreleased tension.

Cookie howled in agony as the enchanted arrow pierced right through his right leg, dug into the ground, and quivered. He dropped to the ground in a heap and winced in pain as blood began to pool around the hole in his leg. "Frollo will have your head for this!"

"Frollo doesn't give a damn about you, Cookie, and you know it. You gave him what he wanted and that is all. Now I'm going to tell you again, make me a map of Peter Pan's islands."

Cookie growled and raised himself on one knee. "What do you want with Selvina anyway? Who is she to you?"

"She knows Belle, or can give me the money to find her again."

"Belle? You mean the Beast?"

Artemian fit another arrow to his bow. "Are you going to make me that map or not?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, you don't."

Cookie glanced about, as if searching for help. After finding none, he sighed with resignation. "Fine, I'll make you the damned map."

Artemian nodded once. "Good." He then slung his bow over one shoulder and lowered his hand to help the man stand.

Grudgingly, Cookie grabbed it and stood up, moaning in pain as he supported his considerable weight on one leg.

"I hope you have some gold coins left," Artemian said as he helped Cookie to the inn he was sleeping in.

"Why?" the former cook grumbled, clearly not pleased about his current situation.

"Because healers are expensive. Trust me."