After a restless night, the party rose groggily and stumbled into the vast dining hall. By the time the group finally found their way, breakfast was almost done being served, which left them all to pick up the scraps of bacon and bread. They all sat separate from the rest of the monks, clerics and paladins who were barely concealing their judgemental looks at these ramshackle strangers, one of whom was loudly insulting their god while the others tried desperately to shut him up with threats of violence.

After nearly thirty minutes of waiting, the party of five was still at five as Carnate had yet to appear; no one had actually seen him since he stormed off last night. None of them knew where he was.

"Maybe he's done a runner," Aldrich suggested hopefully, with his mouth full of fatty bacon, of course.

Hel shook his head. Something told him that the dragonborn wouldn't just walk away. Paladins and dragonborn were both stubborn by nature. He knew that from experience, and if Bahamut had told him to be here, he wouldn't just walk away. Would he?

In reality, Carnate had not run, no matter how tempted he had been. He was waiting outside the private quarters of Scalebearer Dorian, the keeper of this particular temple and one of those men who kept you waiting. Carnate had been waiting anxiously for the last twenty minutes. He knew that the Scalebearer was just keeping him waiting because he thought it made him look important. It didn't. It just made him look late.

Even with this knowledge, Carnate was incredibly nervous. He usually avoided the Keepers at all costs as they were the ones who served the punishments after he made the mistake of insulting one of his superiors. On this occasion, he couldn't avoid a meeting, so while waited, he was forced to cycle through his nervous habits. Cracking his knuckles, fingers and wrist, pacing across the room, jogging his knee, everything

After almost half an hour, the heavy wooden door swung open, and with a deep breath, Carnate stepped inside. The decor matched the foyer, stone floor, blue draped walls, silver chandelier casting long flickering candlelight around the room. A large blue and purple stained-glass window bearing the visage of the great dragon himself sparkled in the sunrise. Dead-eyed portraits of long-gone Keepers glared down at him while the equally dead-eyed Scalebearer Dorian scowled at him from a plush seat. He was human but had some elven blood in him. He was in his mid to late sixties with severely greying hair that fell down to his shoulders and watery blue eyes set deep within a wrinkled face. He had all the visible emotion of a statue. He was a very proud man, even if he was a bit miserable.

Carnate bowed politely as he didn't want to insult the man who had the power to throw them out. "Scalebearer," he said, injecting what little false confidence he had, "I must first thank you profusely for allowing my companions and me to stay the night in your hallowed halls-"

"I didn't."

"Eh?"

"It was my aide who allowed you and your...companions to stay the night," he said stiffly.

Carnate found himself a little lost for words. "Thanks anyway?"

"What are you doing here, Kerrhylon?" The Scalebearer asked. He didn't sound curious, just annoyed by the whole situation. "According to Va'run, you just left your temple without even the slightest bit of an explanation."

"Well, that's not strictly true-"

"Speak when spoken to!" Dorian snapped. "Honestly, you'd expect a child to have better manners."

Carnate's jaw visibly squared, "forgive me, I thought you were done talking." His teeth could have been heard grinding over the Nantara Sea.

Dorian rolled his eyes, "what are you doing here? You have no reason to come to our town, and you have no reason to want to associate yourself and our order with those misfits. Was it Bahamut who sent you?"

Carnate didn't like the way he said that. "As a matter of fact, it was. I received a vision from the platinum dragon telling me to travel to Wildport and seek out the loudest voice I could hear. Sadly, that led me to my current situation, which I can safely assure you I am not all that happy about."

"But what are you doing here," he gestured to the temple as a whole.

Carnate narrowed his eyes at the stuck up elder. "I have a right to be here."

"Perhaps, but I most certainly do not want you here."

"What do you-"

"I want you out of this temple. Preferably now, but I'd take midday as a close substitute."

Carnate was stunned. He was used to discrimination from strangers about his race and faith, especially outside his home country, but never from one of the Keepers. For a moment, he was angry, and then he found himself subconsciously covering the mark on his neck with one hand. He reckoned that if he hadn't been under the careful watch of Bahamut, he would have heard a voice.

"I may have a questionable background, but I am still a paladin of this order. I am still loyal to Bahamut, and he trusts me to do his work."

"Questionable?" Dorian started to laugh. "I'd say it's a little bit more than that. You show up on the doorstep of the Cobalt Island with a curse branded into your flesh. If Bahamut hadn't spoken up for you, I dare say Va'run would have left you to drown, I would have at least."

"So, he's said," Carnate murmured under his breath.

"We'd expect gratitude, and yet for the past twelve years, you've done nothing but doubt our teachings and question your superiors. You should have been cast out after the first month, and yet you're the favourite child that always gets what he wants so long as he wails loud enough."

Once again, Carnate was too stunned to argue. Although, he thought, arguing would probably make the situation even worse. He'd only ever questioned the blind faith of his superiors and had never played the spoiled wretched brat that Scalebearer Dorian was describing. Carnate watched as the other man got up and poured himself a glass of something amber brown.

"And now you're here on my door, and I can throw you out. You and that vile curse we've all learned so much about." Dorian walked up to Carnate, and quick as lightning twitched the dragonborn's collar down.

Carnate fell back snarling, rows of needle-like teeth bared in a mix of anger and fear. He covered the mark again, his face flushing red and the warmth of rage bubbling in his throat. Dorian, on his part, had a smug grin on his face, his wicked old eyes dancing with malice.

"You're a walking blemish on our order, a curse against our views, a damned soul that can never be saved."

"That's not true," but he couldn't even convince himself.

"I want you gone by midday, you and your little motley crew, or I'll have you turned into the city watch. Understand?"

Yes, I understand, Carnate seethed. You should also understand that I'm about to break your nose so badly it'll be having a reunion with your breakfast. But of course, he didn't do that. Instead, he just bowed slightly even if his fists were trembling and clenched, his palms coated in sweat.

"Of course, sir. But before I leave, I would like to formally ask you if you can provide us with anything to aid us on our journey."

Scalebearer Dorian looked at the young dragonborn before him like he was a stain left by a dog on a freshly cleaned carpet. Yet, he reached down into a cabinet and pulled out two small bottles of a shimmering red liquid. "Ten o'clock. Got it?"

Carnate grabbed the two health potions out of the old man's hands before he changed his mind. "Of course, sir, and thank you for your assistance." With that, he bowed and bolted for the door ignoring the Scalebearers muttering of damned souls as he raced down the corridor. But he could swear that over the sound of his clawed feet pounding on the tile, he could hear laughter ringing in his ears.

***

"Well, look who finally decided to show. What's wrong scale face? Got told off by teacher?" Aldrich bellowed with laughter as a miserable looking dragonborn skulked into the dining hall.

By this point in the morning, there weren't many people other than their small group clustered around the long dining tables, finishing off what was left of the breakfast spread. A few younger clerics and servants started to clean away the plates and scraps of leftover food. Many of them definitely turned to stare at Carnate, who was not in a good mood, as Janus and Hel noticed. His body was very tight, shoulders hunched, fists clenched. Still, as the two of them were used to reading the body language of their prey before the strike, it was clear, to them at least, that something had scared Carnate, and that didn't sit well for the rest of them.

"What's wrong?" Hel asked as soon as he sat down.

He didn't answer immediately. "We've got to go."

"Good," Aldrich announced, "I can' stand one more second in this hell hole."

"No, I mean we're getting kicked out; we've got to be out by ten."

There was a pause. "What did you do?" Bella asked.

The question caused Carnate to close up further. "Dorian...doesn't like me. Most Keepers don't."

"So, we can' keep usin' the temples?"

"No. Well, maybe. It depends where we go."

"Well, that's bloody fantastic," Aldrich spat.

Whatever good mood had been brought to the table had soured. After some time of picking off the last of the breakfast scraps, the question that no one wanted to ask got asked.

"Where's the contract?" Carnate eyed the others with just a hint of suspicion.

"No idea," said Alicia with a shrug.

Carnate's eyes narrowed even further. She was a challenging person to read, so gaining any details from her would be next to impossible.

Alicia caught the look in his eye and scoffed. "You really think I've pinched it? Ha! Ask the others; nothing's turned up, so I'm innocent, and you can take that condescending look off your face before I slap it off!"

He gestured helplessly. "I didn't mean... I wasn't-"

"Yes, you bloody were, so button it, you pathetic little- ARGH!"

With a flash of burning arcane white light and the scent of smoke, a roll of paper covered in sigils and slightly smouldering at the edges dropped out of thin air in front of a wide-eyed Bella. No one touched it. The document started to crisp up at the edges.

"And...now I'm blind." Janus blinked away the white stars that were racing across his field of vision.

"I have to admit," Bella said as she gingerly poked at the thing with her fork. "Our employer doesn't exactly do subtlety."

She started to unroll the thing as Hel snapped out of his blindness and jerked her hand away from it. "Check for traps."

"It's a piece of paper. What's the worst it could do?" Aldrich mocked.

"I've almost been killed by less, most notably by a cursed pebble that nearly sent me waving goodbye from this mortal coil and shuffling off to meet the Raven Queen. Check. For. Traps."

Bella found herself a little less reluctant against the idea. She carefully rolled the scroll between her fingers, looking over every little detail she could find. The arcane wasn't her specialist subject. Even after pouring over the paper as carefully, she could only pass it carefully to Hel as he insisted on checking further, muttering a few arcane words under his breath and prodding it with an arrow.

Nothing happened.

"Are ya quite done yet?" Aldrich lacked patience, a fact that was, without a doubt, get him in trouble.

"It's clear," Hel said, completely ignoring him to return the scroll to Bella.

The red wax seal of the Beast Master split open easily. She rolled the paper open, and she flicked her eyes over it, a little bit of colour fading from her cheeks as she got to the halfway point. After she'd finished chewing her bottom lip, she flicked the scroll over to the others.

"You alright, lass?" Aldrich asked, showing the first piece of concern any of them had seen.

"She probably couldn't read the thing," Janus said. "It looks like gnomish. Can anyone speak gnomish?"

"It's upside down, you moron."

"Oh."

Good Lord, he has fewer brain cells than a houseplant, Alicia thought as she jerked an eyebrow at him.

"Can I take a look?" Hel asked. He scanned through the material, his subtle change of facial expression giving nothing away. In the end, he just shrugged, "It's not so bad. I mean, for a first job, it's not too bad."

"Read it," Alicia ordered.

"By order of the Beast Master and the buyers who shall receive, blah, blah, blah...ah, here we go. The total request reads as follows, the beak and two claws of an owlbear, eight dire wolf canine teeth-"

"So, we need to kill two of them."

"Exactly. Oh, and is anyone scared of spiders?"

Silence.

"I'll take that as a no because we need the web sac, two eggs and a litre of spider venom. Oh, and two flayed goblin skins. That's it. You see, easy."

"I call dibs on the goblin skins," Aldrich grinned wickedly, massaging the hilt of his shortsword. One less piece of vermin walking around on planet Nyxia was another weight lifted from his shoulders. They all needed to die and then rot for all eternity in the blackest, darkest circle of hell.

"Yeah..." Carnate said doubtfully, "we'll see. Is there a time limit? Because we might be in trouble there."

Hel re-read the scroll. "No, there doesn't seem to be one. All we need to do is find these creatures, lop a few bits off and not die in the process. Simple!"

"Simple? Yeah, right, and these monsters are just going to throw themselves at our feet," Alicia said.

Hel chuckled. "Don't you worry about that; I can track down just about anything."

"I haven't hunted in a while, but I've still got the best senses out of any of you," Janus pointed out. "Compared to what I've got, you monkeys may as well be blind as a bat and as deaf as my great aunt Blossom. Pretty name, face like a cactus."

"What's that got to do with it?" Bella asked.

"Nothing. She was just an ugly old lady."

Carnate cleared his throat in an attempt to steer the conversation away from who had the worst relatives. "So that settles it, Hel and Janus are our trackers, and the rest of us will just have to follow behind without making a sound."

"Like that's goin' to be easy for you dragon," Aldrich looked the dragonborn up and down. He was right; Carnate was the heaviest out of the entire group.

Carnate scowled, "at least I don't sound like a stampede of drunk mountain giants whenever I take a step."

As they watched the scene unfold in front of them, Hel leaned over to Alicia and whispered, in Elvish, "forget the monsters; I think they're going to kill each other first."

"I'm more tempted to do it myself and shut them both up."

"I'll help you hide the bodies."

Call it what you will; Alicia and Hel had a familiarity between the two. They shared elven blood, one only by half, the other purely. They were both stubborn and strong and fiercely independent, a side effect of their upbringings. They were more similar than they could have ever dreamed

"You know I can understand you, right?" Carnate said.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind," Hel replied. So, he did speak Elvish...interesting.

The clock chimed. The guards at the door grew restless. Some put their hands on their weapons, others shifted anxiously in their armour, others whispered quietly to one another. But one thing stayed the same, all eyes were on the group.

Hel saw and subconsciously reached for his bow. It felt like back home, thousands of disapproving eyes judging every move he made. Every class, he was scolded for doing it wrong. Other children laughed and taunted, carving gashes and bruises with sticks, his dear, sweet stepfather behind it all, punishing the child whose existence was a slap in the face to his pride. Something was always wrong; there had to be. Too emotional, too weak, too imperfect.

Too human.

When one of the guards whispered his name, Carnate swore he could hear the word cursed, monster, demon, a plague on the temple. Freak. It knew some of those paladins; he'd trained alongside them. He'd hated them. They'd made his life hell since he was eight years old. He had to admit, shameful as it may be, he had dreamed about what would happen if they "accidentally" took a long walk over the Windless Cliffs.

No Keeper Va'run, I don't have the remotest clue why Refer is currently being eaten by sharks. And he must have got that head wound when he hit the rocks: Nope, nothing to see here.

He shuddered to know that was his own thought.

By that point, the others had noticed their new observers. They, especially the hot-headed Aldrich, were getting antsy. Bella made a show of pulling Widow Maker slightly from her sheath. Still, the men didn't seem phased; in fact, she heard snickering and additional whispers from the group.

"You know what I think," she said quietly and dangerously. "I think we should get on with the job before one of those jackasses gets used for target practice. Or gets straight-up beheaded; I'm not picky."

"Agreed," Alicia said. Those eyes had been staring at her, their hungry gazes raking over her exposed skin.

Various grunts of an agreement sealed the deal. The group got up, walked past the stony-faced guards with only Janus stopping to slap one on the ass, which almost got him castrated before being rescued, and stepped outside. The cold morning fog was just burning away. The market was just getting into full swing with butchers and bakers and fishmongers crying out to be heard above their competitors. But the party wasn't there to shop, no matter how many shopkeepers tried to grab their attention.

The town faded away, disintegrating into farms and fields before the massive green wall of trees stood as the gatekeepers into the wild. Into the unknown and what would, without any of them knowing, change their lives forever. With Hel and Janus leading the party, their sharp eyes glowing in the darkness, the six of them stepped into the forest and vanished from sight.