Genre: Fantasy

Rating: PG-13(mild language, violence)

TWs: violence, fantasy prejudice/ racism, descriptions of scars and deformities

By BChunter426

"The dragon has been terrorizing our newest settlement." The lord said with a scowl. "The vile beast has slaughtered every knight I've sent after it. Your name has come up several times in my search for someone to exterminate the menace."

"Seems like poor resource management." The half orc woman across from the lord took a puff off of her pipe, illuminating her pale green skin and short tusks, blowing the smoke upward to the rafters. "You should have sent for me as soon as you heard of me. Could have saved some widows and children their tears."

The lord bristled. "Now see here madam! The town was meant to be a place of relaxation for the nobility! The location was secluded for there to be no worries of attack! I was assured that when I purchased the area the only threat is the goblin tribes in the surrounding area which the guards easily handle when they get uppity. So, you'll pardon me for not prioritizing monster hunters in the village." He grumbled under his breath. "That's the last time I take the word of a commoner."

"You're in luck, lord Hausten, I happen to know a thing or two about slaying dragons." The hunter scraped dirt from under her nails with a needle-like knife. "My conditions are as follows. I'll need half the payment now, before I lift a finger to help you. Depending on the age and type of dragon, my rates may increase. I'll take the other half in the form of a house in your village. I've been pondering the idea of retirement, getting a bit long in the tooth, so to speak. Your village seems good as any to set down roots."

Lord Hausten narrowed his eyes at the hunter before leaning back in his high backed chair. "How do I know you're not going to take the gold I give you and run? How can I be assured of your credentials? Afterall, all I have to go off of is the word of peasants and their mayors."

She stood and approached the lord's desk. "It's credentials you want, is it? May I see your hands?"

He hesitated a moment. "I'll bite." He said and placed his smooth hands in her calloused and gnarled ones.

"Soft, unblemished, the hands of a bureaucrat. Untrustworthy. They hold secrets, such as the blood of those who got in the way of what you wanted." She arched an eyebrow at him as if challenging the lord to disagree and released another plume of smoke. When he didn't, she continued. "No judgment, gotta do what you gotsta in this world. Now, look at mine. Scarred, calloused, each mark and blemish a receipt for every job I've completed."

She rolled up her left sleeve and pointed at the taught, mottled skin of her forearm. "Chimera venom, nasty shit, corrodes from the inside out when injected. I got both when its drooling tail got a quick nip in as I was dispatching one of its other heads. This one," she said while pointing at a dark green scar running down her jaw to her collarbone. "was a tender reminder from a troll that didn't go down easy." She stomped her foot down onto her chair and rolled her pant leg up to her knee to reveal the black and purple skin of her leg. "This one's my pride and joy. White dragon caught me with its icy breath. Froze my leg to a tree, had one chance to get a bottle of my own brand of alchemist's fire down its gullet. Luckily I'm a good stick ball pitcher."

"Why does it look like that? Did you not go to a healer?" He asked, a tone of disgust in his voice.

"Oh, I did. Turns out dragon's ice has a property to it that makes it nearly impossible to stop frostbite from taking hold. Seems the only way to stop it is dragon's fire. Since I didn't have a red dragon handy, the old codger did all he could when I got back to the village. Alas, he was able to stop it from spreading, but not cure it. I still had many more jobs left in me, so I declined the amputation. Still hurts like a bitch, but lets me know I'm alive." She relit her pipe. "That enough credentials for ya?"

Lord Hausten grinned and wrote out a note on a piece of paper. "Miss Aberdeen, I agree to your terms. Give this to my squire outside and he'll get you your gold and gear. I'll get a writ of employ made up for you to give to the guard captain. It's not everyday we get someone of your..." he gestured to the short tusks jutting out from her bottom lip. "Kind in town." He paused for a moment. "May I ask? Aberdeen seems a strange surname for an orc."

"Half-orc. Clan didn't want me. 'Pure bloods only' they said. So, I was raised by my dad. He was a good man, taught me the ways of beast hunting. Mum eventually left the clan and came to live with us. Both took his last name, so my full name's Sawtooth Gut Hanger Aberdeen."

"I see." He swallowed. "Thank you miss Aberdeen. Your services are very much appreciated. I'll get started on that writ right now."

Sawtooth nodded politely and exited the lord's chamber. Her heavy footsteps thumped loudly on the wooden floor in the open space. She spotted the young man and made her way toward him. He tensed at her approach, despite her best attempts to wear an amicable expression.

"Your boss said to give you this." She slid the piece of paper toward him across the desk. "I'll be needing my gear too. Let me know if'n you need any help. The man that took it from me was a might bit larger than you." She said good naturedly.

The man grinned uncertainly before reading the paper. "Yes ma'am. I'll be back shortly with your gold and gear."

Sawtooth wandered aimlessly around the room. She stopped in front of a garish portrait of the lord she'd just met. In the painting he was standing with his right foot propped upon the head of a blink cat skin rug. She knew from experience that blink cat fur was one of the softest substances in the known world. The magic that allowed the feline to teleport had saturated the fur in life, making any dust or grime that touched it teleport away. In death the magic was weaker, but still present. It saved her a hell of a lot of trouble when it came to cleaning hers.

"No way he bagged that himself." Sawtooth chuckled to herself.

Suddenly, a clatter of armor and weaponry drew her attention away from the painting. The squire had her gear on a flat cart that had tumbled sideways.

"Oi! Careful with that! There's some highly sensitive liquids mixed in there. Don't want to burn the place down do ya?" She marched forward to gather her belongings.

Lord Hausten emerged from the door a moment later, asking what the commotion was about. After donning her gear and collecting her coin, the lord handed over a sealed envelope with instructions to give it directly to Captain Chansley.

She made her way into town, heading directly to the guard station. As she strolled she took in the mid sized village, ignoring the whispers and looks of fright and disgust from the nobles and highborn on the street. There were a number of high end shops with various wares, such as luxury furniture, gold eat ware, and many that seem to specialize in chachkis that seem highly over priced. Nothing that would be of much use to an adventurer or beast hunter to be seen. Luckily, Sawtooth always traveled with everything she would need for a job.

"Hail and well met." She greeted Captain Chansley.

"Mm." He grumbled. "Are you lost?"

"No mate, I'm here to take care of your dragon problem." She handed over the writ of employ.

Chansley opened the envelope and looked it over for a moment. With a chuckle, he folded it up and placed it loosely in his pocket.

"How can I help you miss Aberdeen?" He asked.

"First off, you can tell me everything you know about this dragon of yours. Size, coloring, any distinctive patterns or markings on its hide. What kind of breath does it spew?" She asked in quick succession.

"Unfortunately, I can't give you many details. The monster is invisible when it attacks. As for the breath, it seems like some sort of corrosive liquid."

"That one detail narrows it down quite a bit." She tells him. "It sounds to me like you-"

Before she could finish the sentence screams could be heard a short distance away. Chansley bolted in the direction of the chaos. As he did so, the writ slipped out of his pocket. Sawtooth picked it up and shoved it in her bag before following his lead. When she caught up, she beheld a strange sight. A young man was floating in the air, though only his top half. He was screaming in agony and trying to pry open whatever it was that had him. Blood and a bright green substance were leaking from his invisible waist as smoke billowed up from wherever the green liquid touched.

"Guards, fire!" Chansley shouted.

A volley of arrows launched themselves toward the invisible beast, pinging harmlessly off of its hide. With a frustrated growl Sawtooth rushed forward, untethering her great axe and grabbing a bottle of alchemist's fire in the process. When she was close enough she brought the axe down on an area with a deep groove the dragon's vicious talon had cut into the earth, severing one of its scaled toes. Immediately after, the dragon let out a pained cry and dropped its prey along with its invisibility.

The dragon's jet black scales seemed to absorb the light around it. Green acidic spittle splashed from its mouth as it roared in pain, scarring building facades and melting flesh it came into contact with. She hurled the bottle at its now visible head. The bottle erupted as its contents hit the air, causing the dragon to roar once more and take flight. The beating of its leathery wings caused several people to fall to the ground.

"Well, that solves one mystery." Sawtooth said with a grin. "Black dragon, looks to be young too. Now I just need to find its lair."

A gurgling cough brought her attention to the ground. The unfortunate man the dragon had in its mouth lay there. His lower half is still melting and smoking from the corrosive saliva, in too much shock to scream. Just by looking at him, she knew he didn't have long.

"Fetch the healer!" Sawtooth cried into the crowd.

"Our healer isn't equipped for something like this." Chansley admitted.

"No two ways about it then." She crouched down by the dying man and lightly slapped his cheeks to rouse his attention. "Mate, I'm sorry this happened to you, but there's not much to do. The shock is going to wear off soon, then the pain begins. The way I see it, you can wait for the healer and pray to whichever god you believe in for a miracle. Or I can help you move on."

She produced the needle-like knife from her side. The man looked from the knife to Sawtooth's sympathetic expression. He nodded, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"Any messages you'd like to pass on?" She asked as she positioned his head in her lap.

he beckoned her close, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell my father," he gritted his teeth as the pain began to sink in. "Tell my father I know what he did to get this land. Tell him I didn't forgive him, even at the end."

He locked eyes with her and nodded. Without a word, Sawtooth slid the knife into his ear, ending his life swiftly and painlessly. She laid his head down on the cobblestones and closed his eyes.

"Rest easy now. May the Raven Queen find your soul deserving of paradise." She stood and addressed Chansley. "Who's the boy's father?"

"Lord Hausten." He said. "He whispered something to you. What message should I deliver?"

"Tell the lord the unfortunate fate of his boy. I'll deliver his final words once I take care of your dragon."

"How will you track the beast? It vanished as it flew away." He asked incredulously.

She hefted the dragon's severed toe. "I didn't take its digit just to be an arse. This'll leave a nice trail for me to follow."

With that she was off. She picked up the trail easily enough. The black dragon's blood had a similar corrosive property as it's saliva. Anything the blood touched smoked and withered. She tracked the blood to a large cave mouth and waited outside to listen. She heard the dragon growling in pain along with several other voices speaking in draconic. She removed her heavier armor to promote stealth as she quietly entered the cave.

Several meters in, she encountered a kobold. The squat reptilian had its back turned to her. Silent as the grave, she crept behind it and clamped a hand around its snout. She carried it back out of the cave and away from the entrance.

"Stop squirming." She grunted as the kobold wriggled in her grasp. "I just want to talk."

When that failed to work, she tried again in her limited broken draconic. "si filki tuor ekess ukris."

That worked. The kobold ceased its struggles and after a moment nodded. Sawtooth slowly removed her hand, ready to clamp down again at the first sign it was calling for help.

The kobold began rapidly speaking draconic. Sawtooth held up a hand and asked of the kobold spoke common in its native tongue. The kobold tilted its head and waggled its hand back and forth.

"Good enough." She responded. "Now, tell me what's going on. Why are you shacking up with a black dragon? And no lies!"

The kobold inhaled and spoke slowly in a gravely voice unaccustomed to speaking the common tongue. "Kobold tribe had land. Kobolds happy, thriving. Then one day, human came, army, weapons. Killing kobolds. Say land now belong to lord house ten. Surviving Kobold run to cave. Find egg. Hatch egg. Dragon hatch. Kobold raise dragon to help take back Kobold land. Dragon kind to Kobold."

"Fuck." Sawtooth cursed. "That's what the kid was talking about."

Her brain began running on overdrive to figure out a solution. She had a job to do, but couldn't help sympathize with the displaced kobolds. Humans and elves, especially their nobles, believe they can roll over people they see as less than. It always rubbed Sawtooth the wrong way.

Suddenly she remembered something that could smooth things over and reached into her bag. As she did so, the writ of employment she'd picked up early fluttered to the rocky ground. She picked it up and gave it a read.

This halfblood is going to solve our little problem. I've told her she can have a house in town as her payment. We both know that can't happen. The nobles that come here to holiday expect a certain level of class that her presence would endanger. When she comes back with proof of the kill, you know what to do. In the mean time give her any information you can to help her dispatch the beast. I trust your discretion, Captain.

Sawtooth let the letter drop from her hands. She told herself she shouldn't be surprised, though it did little to lessen the sting. Orcs are already seen as inferior to most other people. A half-orc is less so, not belonging to the clan or the world of their other parentage. Rather than fall into despair, she began thinking of ways to make it work in her favor.

"Take me to the dragon." She said after a moment. "I'd like to make a deal."

She followed her new Kobold friend into the cave after removing her weapons and remainder of her armor. She wanted to appear as non-threatening as possible. As they drew nearer to the chamber the dragon was still roaring in, she raised her hands above her head, palms facing forward.

The chamber was lit by torches lining the walls and a small fire in the middle. The dragon reared up on its haunches, readying a blast that would surely reduce her to a smoking puddle of goo. The kobold, Zilbe, stepped in front of her and spoke rapidly in draconic.

Whatever they'd said seemed to work. The dragon relaxed and lay back down. It then grumbled something in draconic, which Zilbe translated.

"Zarke say, you cut off fucking toe. Zilbe think Zarke not happy with you."

"I know." She said to Zilbe, then to Zarke. "Sorry about that mate, I was hired by the town to kill you. But some new information has come to light that has made me have a change of heart." She reached behind her and produced the severed toe she had slung to her back.

Zarke reared up once more, but was quelled by the mysterious bottle the green woman held in her other hand.

"This is a special potion. It has the ability to reattach severed limbs as long as it's applied quickly. I think I can give you your toe back. I just need a promise that you won't melt me."

The young dragon glared at her momentarily before nodding once.

"Tell him to hold very still. This is going to sting."

After receiving another approving nod from the dragon, Sawtooth carefully approached and pressed the missing digit to the rest of the scaly creature. She counted down in draconic and poured the contents of the bottle onto the attachment point. Healing smoke billowed up from the wound. Zarke let out a bellowing roar and spat acid onto the wall, but managed to keep his foot steady.

When the potion was finished, the only evidence was a thin silvery scar. "Give it a few more years and you'll be caught up with me." She said with a playful wink.

Zarke grinned in as much as a dragon can grin, then spoke in his rumbling draconic.

"Zarke ask what deal is." Zelbi translated.

She holds up the writ. "Those bastards were planning to double cross me. When all I wanted was a house to retire in. So now I figure if they're stupid enough to put that many nobles in one place without proper protection they get what's coming to 'em. You're going to fly down there with me in your talons playing dead. Then we'll lay waste to the lot of 'em. Leave a few houses standing for me and your mates to choose from, and I'll stay and help you protect your people from anyone stupid enough to march on our village." She grinned at the dragon and extended her hand. "Do we have a deal?"

With something akin to a chuckle, Zarke engulfed her hand in his own.