DD1 ASC - Chapter 4 - Observations (Patreon)

The Royal Alchemists Guild maintained a significant presence within the township of Rhelea. Their offices had taken over one of the grand stone buildings that faced the town square, where lesser merchants and tradespeople made their living hawking their wares in the tented bazaar that sprung up in the early morning only to be taken down each evening with the setting of the sun. The building primarily served as an administrative hub that regulated the membership rolls of all the other alchemists registered within the town and arbitrated any contracts or disputes between them and the Adventurers Guild that they relied upon.

To hear Mara describe it, the two organisations had a symbiotic relationship with one another. The adventurers supplied the alcheThe Royal Alchemists Guild maintained a significant presence within the township of Rhelea. Their offices had taken over one of the grand stone buildings that faced the town square, where lesser merchants and tradespeople made their living hawking their wares in the tented bazaar that sprung up in the early morning only to be taken down each evening with the setting of the sun. The building primarily served as an administrative hub that regulated the membership rolls of all the alchemists registered within the town and arbitrated any contracts or disputes between them and the Adventurers Guild that they relied upon.

To hear Mara describe it, the two organisations had a symbiotic relationship with one another. The adventurers supplied the alchemists with all the magical reagents they could possibly need and the alchemists, in turn, provided the adventurers with their much-needed coin. Coin which would inevitably trickle its way back into the township’s coffers as adventurers spent their hard-earned silver on equipment, booze and brothels, with many adventurers effectively living hand to mouth as they spent a truly prodigious amount of wealth on maintaining decadent lifestyles that would put even the most hedonistic nobles back in the capital of Helion to shame.

On the alchemist's side, they could manufacture everything from healing salves to antiwrinkle eye cream with the right mixture of carefully prepared herbs and mana rich ‘monster’ organs. The esoteric techniques that allowed for the production of these quasi-magical compounds were closely guarded secrets that could only legally be obtained within the kingdom by joining the guild as a licensed alchemist, something that was much easier said than done. The alchemists within Rhelea were just the tip of a very large iceberg, as the vast majority of the harvested organs gathered from the Dragonspines were either alchemically or magically preserved before being shipped off to the rest of Terythia for further processing.

On the week-long journey back from Typhoeus’s lair, his disguised status as a member of the ‘unclassed’ had come up on numerous occasions, and he had made it abundantly clear to the adventurers that he intended to use a class stone at the earliest opportunity. When he had asked to visit the Alchemists Guild following Enora’s brief lecture on their most barbaric practices, Mara had jumped at the chance, likely hoping to steer him away from an adventuring class and the myriad of dangers associated with them. Typhoeus found her concern for his well being to be perversely amusing; the would-be dragon hunter worried that he might be rushing headlong towards a short life full of violence and pain.

As they made the short walk from the more affluent part of town where The Huntsman's Rest was located to the Alchemists Guild Headquarters, Typhoeus allowed himself to smile as he nodded along to Mara as she extolled the many virtues of becoming an alchemist. If it wasn’t for their reliance on quite literally butchering his kind and the fact that he couldn’t imagine how a crafting class would be helpful to him after he lifted the age cap on his species class, then he might have even considered it. Spending the next 46 years toiling away in quiet obscurity sounded like a pleasant reprieve from all of the fighting and violence that had come to define his short life so far. Unfortunately, taking a second class was already going to make it exponentially more challenging to continue levelling his primary class, and if his new class didn’t complement his strengths, then he would likely stagnate in tier 5 until old age eventually caught up with him.

They had to pass through the market bazaar to get to the Guild, where merchants dressed like peacocks in brightly patterned clothing tried to attract their attention towards their prominently displayed wares, yelling bargains and insults alike in equal measures as he strode past in Mara’s wake. He barely had the time to crane his neck from side to side as the tall healer expertly wove through the crowd, dragging Typhoeus along by the arm, his high-level perception skill [Sovereigns Perception] making him keenly aware of every sight, smell and taste within his not inconsiderable range just shy of 300ft. It was completely and utterly overwhelming. While his extrasensory skill was a literal lifesaver in the wilderness, in the midst of the lively marketplace, it was far more than his paltry human brain could handle as the associated sensations of every exotic spice, perfume, fruit, drug and metal was rammed directly into his head all at the same time. He clenched his eyes shut and focused on the arduous task of putting one foot in front of the other as he struggled to work his way through the information that his skill was providing him with. Leveraging his 120 intelligence to process the bevvy sensations at more than 15 times the speed that a typical human could handle as he tried too late to desperately reduce the range of his skill.

“Are you okay? Your nose is bleeding,” Mara asked, her voice ladened with concern as she looked at Typhoeus.

“I’m fine. It’s just a headache. I don’t really like crowds.” Typhoeus said by way of explanation, quickly wiping the fresh blood from his mouth with the back of his free hand and licking it clean, trying his best to hide his confusion when Mara very visibly winced at the sight.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I can arrange for another meeting in a few days when you’ve had more time to recover.” She offered, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“We’re here already?” He said, looking around at his surroundings, the tall edifice that was the Alchemists Guild looming over him. “Oh right, so we are.”

“You’re not very observant, are you Typh.”

“I guess not.” He said with an earnest smile. “Anyway, I’d like to go in.”

He turned towards the large building where strong acidic scents of death and burning leaked out from the space between the door and its frame, the relatively ‘fresh’ air of the town practically refusing to enter the foul-smelling structure. Mara rapped her knuckles against the hardwood door three times, and after a short wait outside the entrance, they were led inside past a busy looking receptionist struggling beneath a veritable mountain of paperwork and into an opulently decorated waiting room by an awestruck apprentice who reeked of the same harsh chemical smells that Typhoeus was beginning to associate with the young man's chosen profession.

By the way that the apprentice kept stealing furtive glances at Mara, Typhoeus was able to intuit that the healer was either a fairly big deal or had something unbecoming on her face. Given the relative rarity of people her level within Rhelea and how she seemed to almost expect this kind of attention, he assumed that it was the latter. The room that they were expected to wait in was the nicest that he had seen so far, with elegantly upholstered furniture sitting over a plush and warm carpet that felt delightful underneath his bare toes. Mara took no time at all to seat herself on the wide divan, the purple fabric upholstery complementing the soft pastel colours of her long ankle-length robe. She patted the cushion by her side, and Typhoeus took the hint, quickly sitting down next to the healer, where he eventually relaxed into his seat after bouncing up and down experimentally a few times on the soft cushions.

They weren’t waiting for long before a wizened old man entered the room through a narrow wooden door on the wall opposite to the one they had entered through. Like everyone else in that he had seen inside the building, the old man was alchemist tagged, dressed in fine red silks that were obscured by the presence of a thick leather apron splattered with a variety of multicoloured substances, all of which smelt foul to the extreme.

"Azoth, they didn't tell me it was you! You should have sent a letter. I would have come earlier if I knew you were in town!" Mara said, standing up from the divan to embrace the old man with a beaming smile, heedless of how the chemicals on his apron singed the fabric of her pale robes.

"And take you away from your divine work? I would never seek to deprive the good people of Terythia one of their staunchest champions." The old man responded with an equally warm smile of his own as he broke their embrace.

“An evening meal together isn't going to cause a goblin horde to descend on us. You should take a break once in a while. I know Caeber would love to reminisce about the good old days.” She said, looking disapprovingly at Azoth as she noticed the sunken look around his eyes.

“No, I guess not. I’ve always had trouble getting caught up in my work. Work hard, play hard, you know me. But you’re right. We should make some time to catch up soon.” He said, offering a weak smile in his defence before turning to face Typhoeus. “Is this the girl you messaged me about?”

"Come here, Typh," Mara said, gesturing for Typhoeus to come closer and stand in front of the alchemist. "This is her, unclassed as you can see, and with a budding interest in alchemy, I would consider it a personal favour if you would consider taking her on as one of your apprentices."

Azoth took that as an invitation to eye Typhoeus up and down appraisingly. The dragon having to suppress an involuntary growl as he thought about what the elderly man standing before him would do to him if he only knew the truth.

"Well, you certainly have a striking look about you, don't you girl.” He said, humming to himself as he thought. “Normally, I would say that you are far too old to start an apprenticeship, but you were able to placate a dragon without a class, so I already know that you must be a hard worker. There's also something about you that my gut is screaming at me is worthy of my attention, and I make a point of always trusting my gut." Azoth said, bending down to address Typhoeus at eye level. "Tell me, girl, do you have an interest in learning to master the divine art of alchemical transmutation?"

"...It interests me, but I would say that I am more interested in learning more about the practices involved in dragon captivity," Typhoeus said, choosing his words very carefully out of fear of giving anything away.

"Oh huh-hoh, a bloodthirsty one are you? I should have known from that predatory look in your eyes that you'd be interested in the more grisly parts of the trade. I suppose that considering your history with them, I can give you a quick rundown." He said, taking a deep breath as he started to walk the breadth of the room. "There's not a huge amount that I can say that won't go over your head, but the gist of it is this. The bodies of all magical creatures are inherently valuable to a variety of crafting professions depending on how the mana alters that respective monster's biology. Few species are more valuable to our kingdom or the continent as a whole than the elusive dragon, whose body can be used for anything from longevity potions to the creation of magical arms and armour.”

“It was discovered embarrassingly late in our country's history after we had wasted countless specimens that with the appropriate application of high ranking healing magic, we can harvest and heal these creatures indefinitely." He said with a proud smile as Typhoeus felt a wave of nausea nearly overcome him.

"By harvest and heal, you mean…." Typhoeus asked hesitantly.

"Cutting out the valuable organs, healing the creatures back to full health, and then giving them a few hours to recover before doing it all over again." He said nonchalantly before noticing the look in Typhoeus's eyes and adding. "Not here of course, but the Alchemical Stables back in the capital handle this sort of thing extremely smoothly."

“And the dragon in the hills, the ‘Stunted’ one. You want to do that to him?” Typhoeus asked after taking a moment to discreetly swallow his own vomit as the horror of what was being described to him truly sunk in.

“Most certainly,” Azoth said, nodding emphatically. “We’ve never had a captive sovereign dragon before, and due to the rarity of the species, let alone the birth defect that makes this one vulnerable, we’ll likely never get another chance like this. I believe the reward is 10,000 gold talents, and being raised to low peerage is the current reward for its live capture.”

“Twelve and a half thousand, it went up last month,” Mara said, cutting in.

“Right, yes, now that you mention it I think I recall receiving a missive from the Queen approving that,” Azoth said, scratching his head as he no doubt tried to remember just such a thing.

The sum of money was absolutely astronomical; the entirety of his horde only contained 897 thick gold coins or talents if you wanted to use their human name. The thought that there were so many coins up for grabs for his capture was almost enough to make him forget about his fate if the adventurers ever were successful.

“And you don’t think it’s cruel?” Typhoeus asked, curious if the man before him had any compassion left within him.

“No. While I admit that it's hardly ideal to keep animals in such conditions, it’s a small price to pay if it means ensuring that our kingdom is supplied with the finest alchemical creations. Even our lesser craftsmen benefit, the dragonscale that protects the King and Queen's royal guard has to come from somewhere, and it’s no coincidence that it’s all made from red dragon scales.” Azoth said.

"I see. Well, thank you for clearing things up for me. I will certainly think about this when it comes to selecting my class. Mara, I would like to leave now please." Typhoeus said, his ability to stomach the man's presence exhausted as he turned to face the healer. Visions of a tortured red dragon flashing through his mind, the butchery that he imagined in his head hopefully far worse than the real thing.

"Uhh, sure, of course we can leave. I know it's a bit of a grisly subject, but there's a lot more to being an alchemist than just that." Mara said in a half-hearted attempt to persuade Typhoeus to stay.

"I know. I’m just feeling a little nauseous from the smell. I have 0 vitality, remember." Typhoeus said, lying through his teeth as he gestured towards Azoth’s apron that was still sizzling from its brief contact with Mara’s robe.

"Of course, go, go get some fresh air!" Azoth said, shooing them both out of the room with a congenial smile on his wrinkled face. "And if you do decide to pursue alchemy as your class, I'll be happy to give you a chance as an apprentice… Mara, we can discuss the details over dinner this weekend?"

"Of course, I’ll send a message once I’ve decided on a place." She said over her shoulder as she followed Typhoeus out of the room.

Once they were outside the guild’s headquarters, Typhoeus breathed deep, stretching his human lungs to capacity as he relished the cleaner air of the city despite the foul human odours that suffused it. He had never imagined that such a cruel fate awaited him had he ever fallen in battle to the adventurers that routinely entered his lair. He had known that humans were bloodthirsty and greedy creatures, but he had never before considered them to be overly cruel. The idea that this era of humanity had not only the audacity but also the proficiency to capture and torture a dragon like that shook him to his very core.

"Hey Typh, are you feeling any better?" Mara asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine." He snapped, aware that he was staring off into the distance whilst standing still amidst an otherwise busy street.

Mara looked at him for a long time before the corners of her mouth twisted upwards in a wry smile. "Come on. I’ve got something to show you." She said, gesturing for him to follow her as she led him down a side street away from the bustling market bazaar.

Together they walked through the streets of Rhelea for 15 minutes or so before coming to an open-air cafe where a handful of metal chairs and tables were placed outside in the shade of a great oak tree. How such a vast tree thrived amidst such a congested town, Typhoeus could only attribute to the softly glowing runework crudely carved into the bark around the base of the tree. The clientele gathered around the tables were rich; Typhoeus didn’t need to be able to smell the precious metals hanging off of them to know that, and with his ill-fitting second-hand clothes, he was attracting numerous disapproving tuts and glances from them that he studiously ignored.

Mara ordered for them both, and when their plates were delivered, Typhoeus was immediately taken away to a heavenly plane of pure joy filled with piles of silver, gold and other items of artistic merit. His small meal reinforcing his understanding that humans as a species were capable of such extremes in their behaviour, their towns and cities containing treasures almost as magnificent as their tortures were terrible. Once again, Typhoeus raised the silver-plated fork past his lips, his hand trembling at the unfamiliar motion as he shovelled another fluffy forkful of the lemon flavoured cake into his mouth. Bliss exploded on his tongue once again, causing him to audibly whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull as he sunk even deeper into his chair.

Mara giggled, covering her mouth with her right hand as she vicariously derived some form of enjoyment from watching Typhoeus devour the cake, the healer having long since donated her own slice of fluffy heaven to the euphoric dragon.

"So I take it from how you reacted back there that you are not going to become an alchemist?” She asked, taking a small sip of bitter smelling tea from her porcelain cup.

“No. Thank you for offering to sponsor my apprenticeship, but I think I will be choosing a combat capable adventuring class after all.” Typhoeus said, his words though quite predictable, still elicited a look of quiet sadness from Mara.

“And are you set on choosing your class today? I wouldn’t want you to rush the decision. Most people spend years training in order to unlock the options they want." Mara said.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m confident that my experience with the dragon will give me something better to choose from than a basic warrior.” Typhoeus said between mouthfuls of cake. “But I have decided to wait until tomorrow. Riyoul offered to take me to the Adventurers Guild so I can use the class stone there. Besides I have done a lot of walking today, and my feet hurt."

"Uhh right, well I do still hope that you pick a non-combat class. Remember that Rhelea is close to a lot of ley lines, so you can passively level quite quickly from just the ambient mana in the air." Mara said, pausing as she let her words sink in. "However, I'm starting to suspect that my attempts to dissuade you are in vain, in which case I can only hope that you choose wisely and level carefully."

"Of course, I will choose as well as I can," Typhoeus said honestly.

"Good, because I have no desire to return to town one day and find your name on the deceased adventurer rolls." She said. "And Typh?"

"Yes?"

"You're free now. The dragon can't hurt you anymore. I know his magic changed you, nobody looks the way you do without some truly extensive body magic, and I know from fixing my nose how much that can hurt." Mara said, poking the tip of her nose to one side to demonstrate.

Typhoeus didn't know what to say to that, so he kept his mouth firmly shut.

"What I'm trying to say." Mara continued, clasping her hands around his own. "Is that you really don’t have to fight. I understand your desire for revenge, but without the proper training, you'll just be throwing away your life for a handful of silver."

"I-I understand, and I’ll be careful. You can trust me when I say that I’m not making this decision lightly. I want to keep on living for a very long time." Typhoeus said, fidgeting slightly as he tried to worm his hands free from hers.

"Good, now finish up your cake, it will be getting dark soon, and the others will likely be wondering where we have gotten off to." She said, releasing his hands which he quickly pulled back before fumbling for his cake fork, which he then used to finish off the rest of his desert whilst trying halfheartedly to make small talk with Mara.

As they walked back to The Huntsman's Rest where the other members of Mara's party were staying, Typhoeus evaluated his plans for the future. He had 46 years to kill before he could rank up his species class, and he had already chosen to live them hidden amidst human society. It wouldn't do to spend that time being perceived as a damaged charity case. First, he would become a powerful adventurer, taking levels in something that would supplement his more important sovereign dragon class. Perhaps then after a couple of decades, he would conquer a nation or two just to show these humans the error of their dragon hunting ways. Dragons were after all something to be feared, and given how insular his species could be, it was probably up to him to remind the alchemists back in Helion as to why.

They arrived back at the inn just before night fell, and after another fine meal where the humans that patronised the establishment all insisted upon becoming inebriated to varying degrees, Typhoeus excused himself early and went to his room under the pretence that he was tired. The bedroom they had arranged for him was surprisingly pleasant. However, he still preferred the privacy of an underground cave to wooden interior walls, no matter how nice the wallpaper may be. After blowing out the oil lamp on his bedside table, he climbed up onto the narrow mattress that was to be his bed. There he sat cross-legged on the thin silken sheets as he closed his human eyes and extended [Sovereign's Perception] outwards to encompass the bar and several houses up and down the street. He had always found meditation, however distasteful, to be necessary in the past when using his skill in such an active state. Not being prepared for the intense mental stimulation would only mean a much more dramatic and bloody repeat of his experience in the marketplace as he pushed a steady trickle of mana through his perception skill.

Immediately he was almost overwhelmed as his awareness opened up around him like the walls separating him from everything, and everyone suddenly fell away. He took his time adjusting to the new sensations, allowing for the movements, tastes and sounds to wash over him as he leaned on his skill and stats to parse through the massive influx of information into something that he could understand. Happy that everything was as it should be, he waited, a confident smile on his face as the dragon bided his time in his new lair of plaster, wood and silk.

As the evening progressed, Typhoeus watched from his room with disinterest as Riyoul, still stinking of the barmaid from earlier, slinked off into the night with Enora. How her body melted into his with practised familiarity as they began rutting like animals in the narrow alley beside the inn. He noticed with something approaching indifference how when Riyoul was finally spent inside of her; the rogue deftly dodged her attempts to hold and kiss him as he instead pulled up his breeches and re-entered the inn without a word leaving the slender woman alone while she quietly sobbed into her sleeve. Minutes later, she re-entered the inn with a smile on her face and a surprisingly well-crafted illusion covering the new redness around her eyes.

Typhoeus watched on as Caeber magnanimously accepted drinks on behalf of his team's good fortune and how he returned the favour by ensuring that whoever bought him a drink received at least one more than they sent his way. The big man studiously ignoring the lust-filled gazes that were fixated on him by the smattering of young women who steadily filled the taproom as the evening wore on, including the earnest look of longing from Mara that Caeber returned with a sad look of platonic friendship.

Typhoeus watched Myorik as he waited patiently for Enora to return to the inn and how the man's heart raced with anger. A thick blue vein on his forehead bulging as he once again recognised the all too familiar illusion covering the woman's eyes. The stout warrior's hand clenched around the dagger at his belt as he fixed Riyoul with a glare that he poured no small amount of rage into. His weapon slid half an inch out of its sheath before slamming home as Myoriks face quickly morphed into a welcoming smile as he made space for Enora to sit beside him, her seat still warm from where she was sitting before.

Typhoeus felt his resolve waver as he watched as the boy next door was beaten bloody by his father. Memories of his own childhood torments at the claws of his siblings overlaying with the all too real abuse he was watching. How the child then crawled on his hands and knees down the creaking stairs to the basement where he stayed up late into the night. Practising his skills by making the stiff corpses of poisoned rats dance in accordance with his will as he pushed his mana into them, a resolute look of determination on the child's youthful face as he plotted his revenge.

Typhoeus watched as a pair of nervous guardsmen accepted payment from a group of cowled individuals smelling of bad intentions and blood, how they moved their moaning cargo unmolested through the street and out of his skills range.

Typhoeus watched over his small section of Rhelea as a thousand and one misdeeds were performed under the cover of darkness, and he wondered for an idle moment if he had finally found a territory worthy of his gentle ministrations. Finally, when he deemed the streets to be quiet enough, he opened his eyes and pulled [Sovereign's Perception] back down to something more manageable. He slowly stood up from his bed, taking great care not to agitate the squeaking springs within his mattress as he gently smoothed out the wrinkles on his loaned shirt and trousers. He wrapped his thick fur lined cloak tight around his small shoulders as he quietly crept towards the window in his room, the shutters opening smoothly on well-oiled hinges as he climbed through and silently dropped down three stories and onto the quiet streets below.

With a hungry smile on his face and a predatory glint in his eyes, the dragon began his hunt.mists with all the magical reagents they could possibly need and the alchemists, in turn, provided the adventurers with their much-needed coin. Coin which would inevitably trickle its way back into the township’s coffers as adventurers spent their hard-earned silver on equipment, booze and brothels, with many adventurers effectively living hand to mouth as they spent a truly prodigious amount of wealth on maintaining decadent lifestyles that would put even the most hedonistic nobles back in the capital of Helion to shame.

On the alchemist's side, they could manufacture everything from healing salves to antiwrinkle eye cream with the right mixture of carefully prepared herbs and mana rich ‘monster’ organs. The esoteric techniques that allowed for the production of these quasi-magical compounds were closely guarded secrets that could only legally be obtained within the kingdom by joining the guild as a licensed alchemist, something that was much easier said than done. The alchemists within Rhelea were just the tip of a very large iceberg, as the vast majority of the harvested organs gathered from the Dragonspines were either alchemically or magically preserved before being shipped off to the rest of Terythia for further processing.

On the week-long journey back from Typhoeus’s lair, his disguised status as a member of the ‘unclassed’ had come up on numerous occasions, and he had made it abundantly clear to the adventurers that he intended to use a class stone at the earliest opportunity. When he had asked to visit the Alchemists Guild following Enora’s brief lecture on their most barbaric practices, Mara had jumped at the chance, likely hoping to steer him away from an adventuring class and the myriad of dangers associated with them. He found her concern for his well being to be perversely amusing; the would-be dragon hunter worried that he might be rushing headlong towards a short life full of violence and pain.

As they made the short walk from the more affluent part of town where The Huntsman's Rest was located to the Alchemists Guild Headquarters, Typhoeus allowed himself to smile as he nodded along to Mara as she extolled the many virtues of becoming an alchemist. If it wasn’t for their reliance on quite literally butchering his kind and the fact that he couldn’t imagine how a crafting class would be helpful to him after he lifted the age cap on his species class, then he might have even considered it. Spending the next 46 years toiling away in quiet obscurity sounded like a pleasant reprieve from all of the fighting and violence that had come to dominate his short life so far. Unfortunately, taking a second class was already going to make it exponentially more challenging to continue levelling his primary class, and if his new class didn’t compliment his strengths, then he would likely stagnate in tier 5 until old age eventually caught up with him.

They had to pass through the market bazaar to get to the Guild, where merchants dressed like peacocks in brightly patterned clothing tried to attract their attention towards their prominently displayed wares, yelling bargains and insults alike in equal measures as he strode past in Mara’s wake. He barely had the time to crane his neck from side to side as the tall healer expertly wove through the crowd, dragging Typhoeus along by the arm, his high-level perception skill [Sovereigns Perception] making him keenly aware of every sight, smell and taste within his not inconsiderable range just shy of 300ft. It was completely and utterly overwhelming, while his extrasensory skill was a literal lifesaver in the wilderness, in the midst of the lively marketplace, it was far more than he could handle as the associated sensations of every exotic spice, perfume, fruit, drug and metal was rammed directly into his head all at the same time. He clenched his eyes shut and focused on the arduous task of putting one foot in front of the other as he worked his way through the information that his skill was providing him, leveraging his 120 intelligence to process the bevvy sensations at more than 15 times the speed that a typical dragon could handle.

“Are you okay? Your nose is bleeding,” Mara asked, her voice ladened with concern as she looked at Typhoeus.

“I’m fine. It’s just a headache, I don’t really like crowds.” Typhoeus said by way of explanation, quickly wiping the fresh blood from his mouth with the back of his freehand and licking it clean. Trying his best to hide his confusion when Mara very visibly winced at the sight.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I can arrange for another meeting in a few days when you’ve had more time to recover.” She offered, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“We’re here already?” He said, looking around at his surroundings, the tall edifice that was the Alchemists Guild looming over him. “Oh right, so we are.”

“You’re not very observant, are you Typh.”

“I guess not.” He said with an earnest smile. “Anyway, I’d like to go in.”

He turned towards the large building where strong acidic scents of death and burning leaked out from the space between the door and its frame, the relatively ‘fresh’ air of the town practically refusing to enter the foul-smelling structure. Mara rapped her knuckles against the hardwood door, and after a short wait outside the entrance, they were led inside past a busy looking receptionist struggling beneath a veritable mountain of paperwork and into an opulently decorated waiting room by an awestruck apprentice who reeked of the same harsh chemical smells that Typhoeus was beginning to associate with the young man's chosen profession.

By the way that the apprentice kept stealing furtive glances at Mara, Typhoeus was able to intuit that the healer was either a fairly big deal or had something unbecoming on her face. Given the relative rarity of people her level within Rhelea and how she seemed to almost expect this kind of attention, he assumed that it was the latter. The room that they were expected to wait in was the nicest that he had seen so far, with elegantly upholstered furniture sitting over a plush and warm carpet that felt delightful underneath his bare toes. Mara took no time at all to seat herself on the wide divan, the purple fabric upholstery complementing the soft pastel colours of her long ankle-length robe. She patted the sofa cushion by her side, and Typhoeus took the hint, quickly sitting down next to the healer, where he eventually relaxed into his seat after bouncing up and down experimentally a few times on the soft cushions.

They weren’t waiting for long before a wizened old man entered the room through a narrow wooden door on the wall opposite to the one they had entered through. Like everyone else in that he had seen inside the building, the old man was alchemist tagged, dressed in fine red silks that were obscured by the presence of a thick leather apron that was splattered with a variety of multicoloured substances, all of which smelt foul to the extreme.

"Azoth, they didn't tell me it was you! You should have sent a letter. I would have come earlier if I knew you were in town!" Mara said, standing up from the divan to embrace the old man with a beaming smile, heedless of how the chemicals on his apron singed the fabric of her pale robes.

"And take you away from your divine work? I would never seek to deprive the good people of Terythia one of their staunchest champions." The old man responded with an equally warm smile of his own as he broke their embrace.

“An evening meal together isn't going to cause a goblin horde to descend on us. You should take a break once in a while. I know Caeber would love to reminisce about the good old days.” She said, looking disapprovingly at Azoth as she noticed the sunken look around his eyes.

“No, I guess not. I’ve always had trouble getting caught up in my work. Work hard, play hard, you know me. But you’re right. We should make some time to catch up soon.” He said, offering a weak smile in his defence before turning to face Typhoeus. “Is this the girl you messaged me about?”

"Come here Typh," Mara said, gesturing for Typhoeus to come closer and stand in front of the alchemist. "This is her, unclassed as you can see and with a budding interest in alchemy, I would consider it a personal favour if you would consider taking her on as one of your apprentices."

Azoth took that as an invitation to eye Typhoeus up and down appraisingly, the dragon having to suppress an involuntary growl as he thought about what the elderly man standing before him would do to him if he only knew the truth.

"Well, you certainly have a striking look about you, don't you girl.” He said, humming to himself as he thought. “Normally, I would say that you are far too old to start an apprenticeship, but you were able to placate a dragon without a class, so I already know that you must be a hard worker. There's also something about you that my gut is screaming at me is worthy of my attention, and I make a point of always trusting my gut." Azoth said, bending down to address Typhoeus at eye level. "Tell me, girl, do you have an interest in learning to master the divine art of alchemical transmutation?"

"...It interests me, but I would say that I am more interested in learning more about the practices involved in dragon captivity," Typhoeus said, choosing his words very carefully out of fear of giving anything away.

"Oh huh-hoh, a bloodthirsty one are you? I should have known from that predatory look in your eyes that you'd be interested in the more grisly parts of the trade. I suppose that considering your history with them, I can give you a quick rundown." He said, taking a deep breath as he started to walk the breadth of the room. "There's not a huge amount that I can say that won't go over your head, but the gist of it is this. The bodies of all magical creatures are inherently valuable to a variety of crafting professions depending on how the mana alters that respective monster's biology. Few species are more valuable to our kingdom or the continent as a whole than the elusive dragon, whose body can be used from anything from longevity potions to the creation of magical arms and armour.”

“It was discovered embarrassingly late in our country's history after we had wasted countless specimens that with the appropriate application of high ranking healing magic, we can harvest and heal these creatures indefinitely." He said with a proud smile as Typhoeus felt a wave of nausea nearly overcome him.

"By harvest and heal, you mean…." Typhoeus asked hesitantly.

"Cutting out the valuable organs, healing the creatures back to full health, and then giving them a few hours to recover before doing it all over again." He said nonchalantly before noticing the look in Typhoeus's eyes and adding. "Not here of course, but the Alchemical Stables back in the capital handle this sort of thing extremely smoothly."

“And the dragon in the hills, the ‘Stunted’ one. You want to do that to him?” Typhoeus asked after taking a moment to discreetly swallow his own vomit as the horror of what was being described to him truly sunk in.

“Most certainly,” Azoth said, nodding emphatically. “We’ve never had a captive sovereign dragon before, and due to the rarity of the species, let alone the birth defect that makes this one vulnerable, we’ll likely never get another chance like this. I believe the reward is 10,000 gold talents, and being raised to low peerage is the current reward for its live capture.”

“Twelve and a half, It went up last month,” Mara said, cutting in.

“Right, yes, I think I recall the Queen approving that,” Azoth said, scratching his head as he no doubt tried to remember doing just such a thing.

The sum of money was absolutely astronomical; the entirety of his horde only contained 897 thick gold coins or talents if you wanted to use their proper name. The thought that there were so many up for grabs for his capture was almost enough to make him forget about his fate if the adventurers ever were successful.

“And you don’t think it’s cruel?” Typhoeus asked, curious if the man before him had any compassion left within him.

“No. While I admit that it's hardly ideal to keep animals in such conditions, it’s a small price to pay if it means ensuring that our kingdom is supplied with the finest alchemical creations, even our lesser craftsmen benefit, the dragonscale that protects the king's royal guard has to come from somewhere, and it’s no coincidence that it’s all made from red dragon scales.” Azoth said.

"I see. Well, thank you for clearing things up for me. I will certainly think about this when it comes to selecting my class. Mara, I would like to leave now please." Typhoeus said, his ability to stomach the man's presence exhausted as he turned to face the healer.

"Uhh, sure, of course we can leave. I know it's a bit of a grisly subject, but there's a lot more to being an alchemist than just that." Mara said in a half-hearted attempt to persuade Typhoeus to stay.

"I know, I’m just feeling a little nauseous from the smell. I have 0 vitality, remember." Typhoeus said, lying through his teeth as he gestured towards Azoth’s apron that was still sizzling from its brief contact with Mara’s robe.

"Of course, go, go get some fresh air!" Azoth said, shooing them both out of the room with a congenial smile on his wrinkled face. "And if you do decide to pursue alchemy as your class, I'll be happy to give you a chance as an apprentice… Mara, we can discuss the details over dinner this weekend?"

"Of course, I’ll send a message once I’ve decided on a place." She said over her shoulder as she followed Typhoeus out of the room.

Once they were outside the guild’s headquarters, Typhoeus breathed deep, stretching his human lungs to capacity as he relished the cleaner air of the city despite the foul human odours that suffused it. He had never imagined that such a cruel fate awaited him had he ever fallen in battle to the adventurers that routinely entered his lair. He had known that humans were bloodthirsty and greedy creatures, but he had never before considered them to be overly cruel. The idea that this era of humanity not only had the audacity but also the proficiency to capture and torture a dragon like that shook him to his very core.

"Hey Typh, are you feeling any better?" Mara asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine." He said, aware that he was staring off into the distance whilst standing still amidst an otherwise busy street.

Mara looked at him for a long time before the corners of her mouth twisted upwards in a wry smile. "Come on, I've got something to show you." She said, gesturing for him to follow her as she led him down a side street away from the bustling market bazaar.

Together they walked through the streets of Rhelea for 15 minutes or so before coming to an open-air cafe where a handful of metal chairs and tables were placed outside in the shade of a great oak tree. How such a vast tree thrived amidst such a congested town, Typhoeus could only attribute to the softly glowing runework crudely carved into the bark around the base of the tree. The clientele gathered around the tables were rich; Typhoeus didn’t need to be able to smell the precious metals hanging off of them to know that, and with his ill-fitting second-hand clothes, he was attracting numerous disapproving tuts and glances from them that he studiously ignored.

Mara ordered for them both, and when their plates were delivered, Typhoeus was immediately taken away to a heavenly plane of pure joy filled with piles of silver, gold and other items of artistic merit. His small meal reinforcing his understanding that humans as a species were capable of such extremes in their behaviour, their towns and cities containing treasures almost as magnificent as their tortures were terrible. Once again, Typhoeus raised the silver-plated fork past his lips, his hand trembling at the unfamiliar motion as he shovelled another fluffy forkful of the lemon flavoured cake into his mouth. Bliss exploded on his tongue once again, causing him to audibly whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull as he sunk even deeper into his chair.

Mara giggled, covering her mouth with her right hand as she vicariously derived some form of enjoyment from watching Typhoeus devour the cake, the healer having long since donated her own slice of fluffy heaven to the euphoric dragon.

"So I take it from how you reacted back there that you are not going to become an alchemist?” She asked, taking a small sip of bitter smelling tea from her porcelain cup.

“No. Thank you for offering to sponsor my apprenticeship, but I think I will be choosing a combat capable adventuring class after all.” Typhoeus said his words though predictable, still eliciting a look of quiet sadness from Mara.

“And are you set on choosing your class today? I wouldn’t want you to rush the decision. Most people spend years training in order to unlock the options they want." Mara said.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m confident that my experience with the dragon will give me something better to choose from than a basic warrior.” Typhoeus said between mouthfuls of cake. “But I have decided to wait until tomorrow. Riyoul offered to take me to the Adventurers Guild so I can use the class stone there, besides I have done a lot of walking today, and my feet hurt."

"Uhh right, well I do still hope that you pick a non-combat class. Remember that Rhelea is close to a lot of ley lines, so you can passively level quite quickly from just the ambient mana in the air." Mara said, pausing as she let her words sink in. "However, I'm starting to suspect that my attempts to dissuade you are in vain, in which case I can only hope that you choose wisely and level carefully."

"Of course, I will choose as well as I can," Typhoeus said honestly.

"Good, because I have no desire to return to town one day and find your name on the deceased adventurer rolls." She said. "And Typh?"

"Yes?"

"You're free now. The dragon can't hurt you anymore. I know his magic changed you, nobody looks the way you do without some truly extensive body magic, and I know from fixing my nose how much that can hurt." Mara said, poking the tip of her nose to one side to demonstrate.

Typhoeus didn't know what to say to that, so he kept his mouth firmly shut.

"What I'm trying to say." Mara continued, clasping her hands around his own. "Is that you really don’t have to fight. I understand your desire for revenge, but without the proper training, you'll just be throwing away your life for a handful of silver."

"I-I understand, and I’ll be careful. You can trust me when I say that I’m not making this decision lightly. I want to keep on living for a very long time." Typhoeus said, fidgeting slightly as he tried to worm his hands free from hers.

"Good, now finish up your cake, it will be getting dark soon, and the others will likely be wondering where we have gotten off to." She said, releasing his hands which he quickly pulled back before fumbling for his cake fork, which he then used to finish off the rest of his desert whilst trying halfheartedly to make small talk with Mara.

As they walked back to The Huntsman's Rest where the other members of Mara's party were staying, Typhoeus evaluated his plans for the future. He had 46 years to kill before he could rank up his species class, and he had already chosen to live them hidden amidst human society. It wouldn't do to spend that time being perceived as a damaged charity case. First, he would become a powerful adventurer, taking levels in something that would supplement his more important sovereign dragon class and perhaps then after a couple of decades, he would conquer a nation or two just to show these humans the error of their dragon hunting ways. Dragons were after all something to be feared, and given how insular his species could be, it was probably up to him to remind the alchemists back in Helion as to why.

They arrived back at the inn just before night fell, and after another fine meal where the humans that patronised the establishment all insisted upon becoming inebriated to varying degrees, Typhoeus excused himself early and went to his room under the pretence that he was tired. The bedroom they had arranged for him was surprisingly pleasant, although he still preferred the privacy of an underground cave to wooden interior walls, no matter how nice the wallpaper may be. After blowing out the oil lamp on his bedside table, he climbed up onto the narrow mattress that was to be his bed. There he sat cross-legged on the thin silken sheets as he closed his human eyes and extended [Sovereign's Perception] outwards to encompass the bar and several houses up and down the street. He had always found meditation, however distasteful, to be necessary in the past when using his skill in such an active state; not being prepared for the intense mental stimulation would only mean a much more dramatic and bloody repeat of his experience in the marketplace as he pushed a steady trickle of mana through his skill.

Immediately he was almost overwhelmed as his awareness opened up around him like the walls separating him from everything, and everyone suddenly fell away. He took his time adjusting to the new sensations, allowing for the movements, tastes and sounds to wash over him as he leaned on his skill and stats to parse through the massive influx of information into something that he could understand. Happy that everything was as it should be, he waited, a confident smile on his face as the dragon bided his time in his new lair of plaster, wood and silk.

As the evening progressed, Typhoeus watched from his room with disinterest as Riyoul, still stinking of the barmaid from earlier, slinked off into the night with Enora, how her body melted into his with practised familiarity as they began rutting like animals in the narrow alley beside the inn. He noticed with something approaching indifference how when he was finally spent inside of her, the rogue deftly dodged her attempts to hold and kiss him as he instead pulled up his breeches and re-entered the inn without a word leaving the slender woman alone while she quietly sobbed into her sleeve. Minutes later, she re-entered the inn with a smile on her face and a surprisingly well-crafted illusion covering the new redness around her eyes.

Typhoeus watched on as Caeber magnanimously accepted drinks on behalf of his team's good fortune and how he returned the favour by ensuring that whoever bought him a drink received at least one more than they sent his way. The big man studiously ignoring the lust-filled gazes that were fixated on him by the smattering of young women who steadily filled the taproom as the evening wore on, including the earnest look of longing from Mara that Caeber returned with a sad look of platonic friendship.

Typhoeus watched Myorik as he waited patiently for Enora to return to the inn and how the man's heart raced with anger, a vein on his forehead throbbing as he once again recognised the all too familiar illusion covering the woman's eyes. The stout warrior's hand clenched around the dagger at his belt as he fixed the Riyoul with a glare that he poured no small amount of rage into. His weapon slid half an inch out of its sheath before slamming home as Myoriks face quickly morphed into a welcoming smile as he made space for Enora to sit beside him, her seat still warm from where she was sitting before.

Typhoeus watched as the boy next door was beaten bloody by his father, how the child crawled on his hands and knees down the creaking stairs to the basement where he stayed up late into the night, practising his skills by making the stiff corpses of poisoned rats dance in accordance with his will as he pushed his mana into them, a resolute look of determination on the child's youthful face as he plotted his revenge.

Typhoeus watched as a pair of nervous guardsmen accepted payment from a group of cowled individuals smelling of bad intentions and blood, how they moved their moaning cargo unmolested through the street and out of his skills range.

Typhoeus watched over his small section of Rhelea as a thousand and one misdeeds were performed under the cover of darkness, and he wondered for an idle moment if he had finally found a territory worthy of his gentle ministrations. Finally, when he deemed the streets to be quiet enough, he opened his eyes and pulled [Sovereign's Perception] back down to something more manageable. He slowly stood up from his bed, taking great care not to agitate the squeaking springs within his mattress as he gently smoothed out the wrinkles on his loaned shirt and trousers. He wrapped his thick fur cloak tight around his small shoulders as he quietly crept towards the window in his room, the shutters opening smoothly on well-oiled hinges as he climbed through and silently dropped down three stories and onto the quiet streets below.

With a smile on his face and a predatory glint in his eyes, the dragon began his hunt.