Hey guys! After a long break, Scatter is back!

Did you miss me? No? Eh, I hope you like this anyway.

Don't forget to comment, and on with the story!!!!!!!!!!! :)

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Nate was never particularly fond of crowds. Actually, he hated them. They were always so noisy and busy. And besides, crowds never really seemed to enjoy him either.

At least a couple good Samaritans had the moderate decency to pretend as if they weren't staring. He could feel it – all of the eyes icily trained straight at him sent chills shivering down his spine as he hurriedly scanned the quest board for a job with a suitable reward. It was faster than reading through each description only to find that the quest's pay was nowhere worth his while.

"...a flame-proof wristlet.... No.... when would this ever be useful?" he muttered to himself. "...why on earth would anyone want this.... And-?" All other noises but his own slow, steady breathing drained out of his ears as he read the reward over and over again in his mind. Snatching the rare chance off the board, he silently read the briefing.

An Unborn soul

Party size: 1 – 4 people

Difficulty: medium

Quest type: protect the reward

Monsters: Hogs and Slimes

Description: find and protect the dragon egg before the monsters destroy the unborn baby.

Reward: dragon's egg

A dragon's egg. An actual dragon's egg.

"Hey, give me that!!" Nate's head was violently jerked backwards as dark green haired punk yanked the long, flowing ends of the scarf that Nate had tied up as a head band. He instinctively grabbed a bronze pen out of his left pocket, crumpling the quest as he shoved it in to fill the pen's place.

"Let. Go," he ordered.

The kid snickered. "Then give me the quest," He commanded, allowing Nate to see the summoning rod he held intimidatingly over his head. "Otherwise you'll be sporting claw marks all over those grimy pants of yours." He smirked, inspecting Nate's well-worn clothes. "And considering your class, who knows how long it'll be before you can get a new pair."

A couple of kids snickered at his sharp remark, fueling the rowdy troublemaker's razor-edged comments. "How terrifying," he joked. "Nothing but a pen in his hand to defend himself. Sorry, but the letter to mommy won't make it in time." He paused, a smirk to rival death's played tauntingly across his face. "You know, assuming you can write."

Mutely holding the pen out before him, Nate squinted his eyes as a familiar glow enveloped the harmless writing utensil. The bully froze, summoning staff held midair as he botched up the process of calling forth whatever clawed creature he'd threatened.

"I'll make you a deal," Nate snarled, menacingly gripping the axe that had previously taken the form of the pen. "You don't bother me, your rod stays in one piece. After all," he mimicked, "considering how low you were willing to stoop, who knows how long it'll be before a poor little weakling like you can get your hands on a new one."

Meekly nodding, the hooligan bolted, paying no mind to the bystanders he rammed into in his escape. Nate sighed, returning his axe to pen form and dropping it back in his pocket. Quite frankly, it really worked to his advantage that most spineless imbeciles were terrified of his brutish magic.

...aaaaaaand now the rest of this godforsaken crowd is staring at me, Nate noted as his legs locked in place. "What are ya lookin' at?" he snapped, words much harsher than intended as the pressure coursed through his body.

Silently pretending like nothing happened, everyone uneasily turned back to whatever they'd been doing. Nate sighed. Humans were a pain.

~*~

                "You seem to have a talent for starting commotions," The Lady commented as Nate showed her the quest he wished to attempt. The Elven-Fairy hybrid shown with the same glittery silver glow that the quests were written in, symbolling that she was authorized to handle quest-takers.

                "Yeah, yeah," Nate muttered, embarrassed. "Just send me to this quest's dungeon."

                "Alright," The Lady agreed, preparing her magic to send Nate into the specific map that housed his quest. "To complete it, all you have to do is find the egg and bring it safely back to your starting point. A map of the dungeon should appear in your backpack once you arrive."

                His body relaxed as a grey light appeared and warmth surrounded him. Only a few more seconds should be necessary...

                A crackling filled Nate's ears in a manner that could only be compared to a roaring fire. Opening his eyes as the sound faded into one of a forest, he didn't even bother to take two seconds to study his surroundings, but instead dove straight into his bag for the map. This was a race against time – if the hogs or slimes found the egg before him, it would be cracked open and destroyed within seconds. There goes the reward.

                This dungeon housed only two terrains – lake and forest. The layout was straightforward, yet added a complication that would instantly trip up newbies and leave veterans like himself guessing. While there were no mountains, ridges, caves, or even any elevation differences to consider, a large lake was pooled up right in the middle of the otherwise wooded area. But that wouldn't cause any issues. It was the island stationed directly in the center of the lake that engendered the debate.

                Too many novices tended to make a bee-line directly to a different or unusual land form, only to find that the reward was miles away in another direction and already destroyed or stolen by creatures that inhabited the area. But then again, it was still possible that the reward would be hidden on the island, placed to try to trick those who were aware of the danger of assuming that the goal was hidden in the first odd place they spotted.

                Nate shoved the map back into his bag. He'd memorized the basic layout of the dungeon, and that was all he'd need from that piece of equipment. The longer he stared at the map, the longer he'd drive his mind in circles convincing and un-convincing himself of the target's location.

                There was only one option left – just search.

~*~

                The next morning, Nate was up about half an hour before the warm orange sun graced the forest with its colors. Morning routines were short; changing took all of two and a half minutes in total, and he'd tied his headband on so many times that in no more than twenty seconds the lengthy strip of fabric was mounted on his head, the long ends trailing to his mid back. He'd dab a small amount of toothpaste onto an old purple brush before shoving a few bites of breakfast (usually cereal) down his throat and setting off.

                However, this morning, Nate sat down and took a little more time to eat, as he did occasionally. But not out of pleasure; it was never out of leisure. There was something bothering him. He'd entered the dungeon around 10:30 A.M. the previous day. Twenty hours had passed as it was now 6:30 A.M., and yet he hadn't so much as heard from any of the hogs or slimes that the quest's briefing had informed him would be present.

                He wasn't too surprised that he hadn't bumped into too many slimes – they rarely traveled further than five feet from a swamp or lake. The hogs were the ones concerning him. They were known for traveling in herds and turning rather aggressive when they came too close to humans, yet he hadn't been attacked yet.

                This meant one of two things, neither of them good. The hogs might have joined together, creating larger herds rather than staying in easier to defeat smaller groups, or, worse, discovered the egg's location and were already tromping that way. If that were the case, it could be anywhere from a couple hours to a couple days before the egg was killed.

                Feeling a little more confident in his ability not to mislead himself, Nate unrolled the map. Based on a couple of landmarks and the direction of the island in relation to his position, he deduced that he'd traveled a little over half way to the opposite side of the lake, so he'd covered a good amount of ground already.

                Things were definitely not going well in Nate's opinion. While finding the egg seemed like random guessing and checking, but there actually was a strategy to successfully completing quests like this. By the second day, the monsters usually acquired some sort of instinct as to the direction they needed to head to make the quester fail. If one could figure out the general area that the monsters were shooting for, it made things a lot easier and way more accurate.

                But, yet again, the lack of hogs was hindering, not relieving. Why does the world have to work in such a way that not having your troubles is more troubling than having your troubles?

                Messily dropping his belongings back into his bag in a manner that made him glad that no one with OCD ever peaked at its insides, Nate set off again.

                The leafy green trees and brown trunks blurred by on either side of him as he swerved in a zigzagy pattern as he progressed. Far enough inland to be aware of a larger area, then close to the lake's bank so he wouldn't lose his bearings in the infinite forest.

                CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                If Nate were a dog, his ears would be perked straight up and his tail would gain the ability to propel him across the widest ocean. There was no way a tree that could produce the amount of sound as that crack could be brought down by the majority of natural means. And with only two options of monster types, it wasn't too hard guess which one had attacked it.

                Hogs, he couldn't help himself from mentally reciting, occasionally disregard the fact that they are about to run into a tree and just keep on going. And they always end up besting the poor tree, because if they don't succeed on their own the first time, the whole herd joins in the retirement of the tree. And if that doesn't work, they'll call in another herd for back up. This behavior is almost identical to how they treat humans. 

Maybe about 100 feet ahead and to the left, Nate calculated as he noiselessly jogged in the herd's direction. If he was too loud, they'd hear him and change directions, and if he was too slow, they'd move too quickly for him to find.

                These kind of quests are tricky. They require such a delicate balance and the ability to make predictions out of guess work. But, he thought bitterly, most people don't understand that there's more to this than brute strength.

                The pounding of the beefy hog's rock-hard hoofs caused the forest floor to tremble. At least the herd's racket would drown out any traces of human footsteps. Then, Nate saw one.

                He practically threw himself to the ground – if you can see them, they can see you. Driving his pointer finger into the ground, he drew a clear line indicating the way the hogs were headed as reference for later. He'd learned that he couldn't always get his compass out in time to measure their exact direction, and just guessing the way they'd been going had proved in the past to give him an error of two or three degrees off, which in turn could lead to even a mile off of the final location.

                Nate wrinkled his nose. These beasts were hogs alright. Their vomit-inducing stench was proof enough alone, as if their huge tusks weren't already a dead giveaway.

                He thrust his hand into his backpack, hurriedly rummaging around for his compass. "Where's the stupid-"

                He had no more than a second's notice before one of the hogs rampaged straight through the leafy bush he'd used to conceal himself. Mentally cursing himself for letting his guard down before the danger passed, his pen was already glowing by the time he snatched it out of his pocket and rolled to his feet, and had consumed the form of a forceful battle axe in no more than a total of four seconds.

                The dumb creature stared at Nate in bewilderment for a moment – it wasn't expecting to bump into anything. It had been driven off its course by accident. Nate could almost feel it shrugging off all logical thoughts as it decided that reasoning didn't matter and charged at him.

                Reacting with long practiced speed, Nate nimbly dodged and slashed at the beast's side as it barreled past him, unable to change directions as quickly as its prey due to momentum. Blinking in shock, it just looked at the gash Nate's axe had torn in its side, not sure what to make of it.

                Then five seconds later, it clicked in the monster's brain that it had been struck, and the wound was supposed to hurt. Howling in fury, it summoned the rest of the herd.

                Nate calmly raised an eyebrow at the hog, who'd decided that it would much rather wait for its family to arrive and then play too hurt to help than attack him again. He sighed. Hogs were so idiotic and cowardly that he feared losing a couple of brain cells just from looking at them. Quite honestly, if the sheer number of them didn't keep him on his toes, he would almost say that they were boring to fight.

                The rest of the herd thundered into view, tusks as sharp as ever and eyes as wild and stupid as they ever could be. There were twenty hogs in this herd – about nine more than usual. Nate's heartbeat quickened to a scarily fast pace. He had never taken on a group this size before, and he wasn't sure he could. He grimaced. It's my own fault I'm in this mess. If I'd bothered to check the size of the herd before I fought back, this wouldn't have happened. I say they're stupid, but I'm just as bad sometimes.

                It was chaos from that moment on.

                The first three hogs charged, their messy brown coats seeming to stand on end and make them appear much bigger than they already were. Nate leapt behind a tree, narrowly dodging two and using the tree as a barrier for the third.

                Nate flinched as a resounding boom sounded from the hog striking the tree at full force. He cursed himself again for letting luck save him from his foolishness – had the tree been any less sturdy, the hog would have knocked it down in one blow, effectively crushing him.

                He didn't have time to dwell on that thought, though, as a hand full more hogs rushed at him. But once again, he was too fast for the moving piles of fur. So, he continued doing the only thing he could do to attack – move out of the way and land the occasional blow when he could. However, he was tiring much faster than his numerus opponents, and it wasn't helping that he was carrying with him a battle axe. He let out a cry of pain as a hog's tusk sliced through a thin layer of skin on his arm. He needed a break, and fast.

                Quickly scouting out the thickest tree in the area, he leapt into its branches and climbed just out of striking zone. Nate held tight to the trunk as the hogs took turns smashing into it, trying to bring it down and him along with it. Gulping in as much air as his lungs could take, he quickly surveyed the area. That's when he noticed something odd. One of the hogs wasn't attacking the tree. In fact, it appeared... stuck.

                And stuck it was, he realized. Its tusks had been driven into a different tree, and it didn't seem able to remove them or knock the tree over without a running start.

                Eyes aglow with a plan, he sprung from the branch he was perched on like a cat dealing the final blow to a frightened mouse. As expected, the herd chased after him, unaware that their numbers were like mere rodents under Nate's claws. With new found energy, he wove in and out of trees, splitting the group up a little bit and occasionally pausing behind sturdier trees to trap the reckless beasts like the first one who'd attacked. Soon, only nine were left free. Three fled, and he made quick work of the other four and the immobilized ones.

                There was only one thing he was grateful for; like most monsters, hog's blood turned into magic when exposed to the air and just drifted into the ground, so fighting them never resulted in a bloody mess unless the blood was his.

                Nate plopped to the ground in exhaustion, clutching his left arm. It had been cut alright. He rummaged through his bag and pulled out two small bottles. He poured several drops of the first container onto his wound and hissed in agony as the liquid touched it. The bleeding slowed to that of a shallow cut, and his arm seemed a little better already.

                The point, he thought, grimacing in discomfort, of healing potions is to help mend injuries. I just wish that they didn't have a side effect of causing the wound to be more painful for an hour or two after it's applied.

                He pulled out an old rag from his backpack and wrapped it tightly around his arm. The worn down piece of fabric had obviously been used for a similar purpose before – some not quite faded away blood stains were still slightly visible on the black cloth, but Nate didn't care. It worked, did it not?

                After assuring that the rag would stay in place, he picked up the second bottle. This time, however, he poured it on his dark blue light jacket where the fabric had torn. Within a couple seconds of the drops touching it, it gave a soft incandescent glow and wove its self back together, just as good as before one of the hogs had torn it. Sure there were some bloodstains near the wound, but he had something to clean it that he'd use later.

                Shakily, he stood, returned his axe to pen form, and stumbled over to where he'd recorded the direction that the hogs had been stampeding. His whole body wanted to lay down and rest, but he wouldn't allow himself to do so. It was only five in the afternoon, and he wanted to make a little more ground before he called in for the night.

                When he found the spot he was earlier, the line indicating the direction he needed go had been erased when the hogs trampled over it. I think I remember which way they were headed, he thought, so I might as well go with it. All the hogs are dead now, so they're not going to be any help. I just have to keep going.

                And so, with that thought, he wearily trudged on.