Ethelston had forgotten the freedom of climbing onto his horse and just have the two of them enjoy the open road together. He had also forgotten how much his buttocks ached after a day's ride.

Despite the aching pain, he revelled in the liberty he was experiencing, as the pattering of rain droplets splashed his face and glistened his black horse, it did little to bother him.

The hooves of his horse sank gradually into the muddying road allowing Ethelston to enjoy the squelch it made. It reminded him of the little things that instilled satisfaction in the life of a mercenary. At this moment, it felt as if no home was his home.

It had been some time since Ethelston had entered the archway of Hagrefjord. Originally a small fishing village south of Ravenscourt, as the Ravenscourt province fell into disarray, so did the fishing community in the village. Due to its location by the sea and distance from a major city, it became a den for smugglers, using the fishermen as a smokescreen for their profitable activities.

Over time more and more disreputable's would gather there to perform various nefarious business. For a mercenary, it was a great place to find or gain information about a potential job.

The horse shuddered slightly as doors from one of the buildings swung open, leaving a man sprawling naked out onto the mud. Initially slipping, he hurried onto his feet before racing through the streets. As if on cue, another angry man raced out from the same house, fully clothed with a dagger in hand. It didn't take him long to raise his head and sprint after the exposed man.

A cheer erupted further down the street encouraging Ethelston to chuckle to himself. Apparently, the naked man had just run past one of the taverns.

Easing his horse towards the same tavern, he studied the men drinking on the outside. As he climbed off, none of them appeared to be paying him much attention. However, Ethelston was wise to the fact that they studied his every move.

Before he had placed his boot in the mud, everyone in that tavern would know he had arrived. As he placed his second boot down and began to tie up his horse, he gave a quick sigh of relief. If there was anyone that had an outright grudge against him, it was likely they would have exited the tavern along with a host of others who wished to join in the sport.

Straightening his jacket, he strolled confidently towards the door, parting a few nods as a couple of tankards were raised in his direction. He did not know these men, but some of them had likely fought by his side, or at least, revered the reputation of the Manticore Hunter.

The tavern was boisterous as patrons drank and shouted and laughed. None appeared interested in his arrival; they just seemed content to enjoy whatever takes they had recently acquired.

Sitting down at the bar, Ethelston placed his hands carefully in front of him, waiting for the bar lady to walk her way up to serve him.

She deliberately took her time, a sign of intimidation and authority. There's was nothing that Ethelston could do to speed up her service except to wait patiently. Few rules existed in Hagrefjord, but there was always an unwritten rule that establishment owners were protected at all costs. There was no law enforcement, but it wouldn't take long for everyone within the tavern to rush to her aid.

Ethelston chuckled to himself when he realised, that despite being the second most powerful man in the Isovine empire, on paper, he was being made to wait by a bar wench. He smirked as she eventually looked up and waltzed her way forward to him.

"What's so funny?" she growled at him, her large frame proving to be more intimidating with each step.

"Oh, just a joke I remembered, " lied Ethelston, "a tankard of your finest and a Desert Viper to go with it."

She leant forward putting all her weight on the bar. "What did you say?"

This was not the first time he had to deal with an obstinate bartender, and he was pretty confident that it wouldn't be his last, but this was the way things were in the mercenary world. Claim ignorance until you can prove otherwise.

He reached for his small purse strapped to his side. First, he took out a piece of silver and chucked it on the bar. "A standard of your finest, " he then repeated the action, replacing the silver with gold, "And the Desert Viper."

The bartender smiled, picking up the coins but only caressing the gold piece. "Wait here."

As he waited, it was an opportunity for Ethelston to inspect the patrons, their moods and their demeanours. They laughed, they joked, they fought, it was loud and boisterous, a sign that business was doing well. He enjoyed watching members of his previous occupation, having a time of enjoyment. However, as the Duke of Ravenscourt, at some point, he would be expected to nullify this criminal society.

Not all were criminals, but they would interact with undesirables in this very establishment, therefore making them an enemy of the realm.

Feeling a pat on his back, Ethelston was glad his train of thought had been distracted, it was problem for another day.

Turning around, he noticed a large man whose hand seemed to eclipse Ethelston's shoulder as it was placed on it. His scarred, disgruntled face did not appear welcoming, and whoever he was, he was ready to back his size with hostility.

"You don't come in 'ere and ask for the Desert Viper, them the rules," he responded with a higher-pitched voice than Ethelston had not anticipated.

Ethelston started to laugh uncontrollably. He was desperate to keep his composure but ultimately failing to do so. This just appeared to anger the man further.

Antagonised by Ethelston laughter, the man brushed himself up against him, puffing his chest and flexing his muscles. Leaning in towards him, he snarled, "Aye, you got a problem, boy?"

His breath smelled rotten and intoxicated, causing Ethelston to recoil back and hold his nose, "Look just get your lady and be done with it." Ethelston encouraged.

The man poked him violently in the chest, "How about I cut off ya' nose and feed it to ya'. I've killed plenty of men far more bigger than you!"

Ethelston couldn't help but laugh again at his poor use of language. "And I've killed men far bigger and far more intelligent than you, " he threatened, "look, just get your master and then we can forget this encounter ever took place."

The man looked at him and snarled; it would only be a matter of time before he struck. Ethelston had to take the initiative before things got out of hand.

Just as the man's face starting turning a beetroot red, Ethelston kicked the back of his knee forcing him to drop down to eye level, grabbing hold of his head, with all his might he smashed it on the side of the bar, leaving the man to crumple on the floor.

A tremendous cheer flooded the tavern.

As the large man made an unceremonious thump on the floor, a slow, meticulous hand clap glided its way through the cheers to encourage Ethelston to look around.

"You haven't changed two swords!" an alluring, exotic, feminine voice slithered towards him.

"Its Manticore Hunter now, my dear Aryya." smiled Ethelston.

He was greeted by the sumptuous smile of a tall olive-skinned woman, whose intense muscular body fought valiantly beside her seductiveness. Her dark red lips glistened at the sight of the man she fought alongside many a time during their mercenary days.

Her hips swayed like a pendulum as she made her way towards him. It almost distracted Ethelston from the two large men that stood either side of her like hulking beasts. He had also forgotten just how intoxicating and alluring he found this woman.

"Manticore Hunter? A name you earned with my bow and arrow. Still, a hunter you are." she smiled before grabbing hold of his chin and leaning in to land her soft thick lips on his.

All thoughts would usually disappear when she kissed him; however, this time, his conscience ached in time with the kiss.

Separating their mouths and releasing his chin, she looked at him with a small frown. "Perhaps you have changed? What business do you have here in Hagrefjord? Rumour has it you are some Lord or Baron or Viscount or something."

Ethelston turned quickly to take a large swig from his tankard to regain his composure; this woman always had a way of making him feel unguarded. "Duke."

She scoffed at him in laughter. "You, a Duke? Hah!"

He remained silent but looked at her and smiled.

"Well, the price went up for whatever it is you want," Aryya responded.

"You know I'm good for coin. How many men do you have at your disposal?" Ethelston asked.

"Men and women, fifty. I know you Isovine types are funny about women doing dirty work" Aryya replied swinging her legs around on a seat next to him.

"You know me well enough to know that it doesn't bother me."

She rubbed her lips seductively "Not well enough obviously." she replied.

Ethelston was determined not to get distracted by her antics; he needed to make sure he had his band of mercenaries by the end of the evening. "Fifty men and women are fine, to come with me to Ravenscourt and fulfil whatever tasks my spymaster and I assign you with. I will pay you double of what I would normally pay for an indefinite period."

She laughed, making her raven black hair flow ferociously around her face. "Indefinite? Are you sure you can keep me entertained?"

Ethelston refused to comment.

She frowned once more at his lack of interaction. "Fine, but we seal this deal the only way you know how." she licked her lips, tilting her head slightly so she could expose her neck.

Ethelston sighed and swang around on his seat, lowering his head; he looked once more at his tankard before taking another swig.

Aryya seemed to enjoy how much he was squirming in this situation, so she pressed the issue further. "So much conflict in you, has my little Ethelston finally grown up?" she chuckled, "Two swords, you give me your one sword for the night and coin in the morning, and you have your mercenaries. For this is how we always complete our deals."

Swinging around on her seat, she stood up and briskly walked towards the exit, not even attempting to turn around to see if he would follow.

Taking the last swig of his drink, Ethelston thought about how much he admired this mercenary Aryya, the Desert Viper. Having met the days leading up to the events that gave him his moniker, they had travelled several times together subsequently. During their travels, they had laughed together, lay together and almost died together, yet they never loved each other.

Tonight he would do what he had done so many times before with her, yet this time it was different. From the kiss before to the flirting during and the apparent sex after, he would not be fully there, for a part of him sat in Lionmane worried for a woman who had unexpectedly caught his attention.

Every day he longed to return to the simple life of a mercenary, to have little to no care for anything or anyone; but something changed in Gryffinfall to make him long for something else entirely.

Duke Ethelston Darke, the Manticore Hunter, one of most fearsome men and fighters in the known land had been bested by a woman, by an Elf no doubt, by someone that he worried about every day that they were apart and that he admired every day that they were together. Erdudvyl Ar Moal had bested him, and today was the day he realised that he was falling in love with her.