A DEPARTURE
For most the Iron Order was a calling. Almost everyone who joined had a story, often the same story. In fact, it seemed that every man and woman in the Iron Order had been touched in one way or another by the monsters that roamed the continent of Milandriel.
But not Faith. At least she didn't believe so. Not directly. Faith was orphaned as a young girl and adopted into the Iron Order by her trainer and mentor, Galandred. And, for the last sixteen years or her life, she had trained to do what the Iron Order did best -- hunt monsters!
Faith knew nothing of her past and now, at twenty-one years of age, she was finally going to learn the truth of who she was, where she was from, and what happened to her family. Today was her twenty-first name day and today, today there was only one thing she cared about.....
"Faith? Faith...?" repeated Galandred, "Are you listening to me girl?"
"Yes, yes of course," replied Faith.
"Then what did I say?"
"You were going over werewolf tactics and reminding me to pack my elixirs. Please Galandred, we've gone over this a hundred times before and this isn't my first werewolf!" said Faith.
"Yes," responded Galandred, "But this is your first solo hunt my dear. You've passed all other trials required of an Iron Order initiate, only this one remains. I want you to succeed."
"Remember Faith," continued Galandred, "There are those among the order who do not wish another woman among their ranks. They do not wish you to succeed. It is no accident you were given a werewolf during the week of the blood moon. It will be a challenge, even for you."
Galandred wasn't wrong. He had broken tradition when he'd adopted the orphan girl and brought her into the order. Faith still didn't know why he'd done so or how he'd convinced the council to accept it. All he ever said was that he didn't have a choice, and neither did they.
Faith tightened her saddle and adjusted the packs on her horse.
"I'll remember," Faith said as she jumped on her black stallion. "It's a two-day ride to the village from here, plenty of time to prepare. I should be back within the week. And when I return, you will tell me of my family, as promised!"
"Just be careful," Galandred called after his protégé warmly. "I'll await your return. And yes, you will learn everything after you've passed your last test."
An hour away from the fort, Faith dropped her stallion from a trot to a walk. It was a beautiful day for a ride. The sun was shining bright, warming her back. Her hips swayed in the saddle as she rode.
Faith's riding attire consisted of her knee-high doe skin boots, tight black leather pants, a white blouse, and a black studded leather corset.
The sun reflected off her long blonde hair which she had tied back with a red leather cord. Her green eyes shone from her oval face, unblemished except for a few small freckles that gave her a naturalized attractiveness. Her body was strong from her years of training, but still in all ways soft and feminine.
She was beautiful. This, she knew, played no small part in the council's reluctance to accept her into the order. They considered her an unnecessary distraction. Nevermind that she outperformed most all of the male initiates and spurned all of their advances.
It wasn't that she wasn't interested in men, she very much was, in fact her sexual fantasies occupied much of her down time. It was just that the Iron Order was her life, it came before all else, and she was not going to jeopardize that for anything. And so, despite the many wanton advances of the men she trained with, she had remained chaste and focused entirely on becoming the best monster hunter she could possibly be.
THE VILLAGE
Faith arrived at the village at dusk, during a terrible rainstorm, and tied her horse up outside of the only visible Inn. The sign read, "The Prickly Pear."
Faith went inside, shedding her sodden cloak as she entered. The rain had been pouring down for the last three hours and her cloak had long since failed to provide any protection. Unfortunately, that meant her white blouse had also soaked through and clung to her cleavage in such a fashion that she was attracting the attention of all the men in the common room.
"Barkeep," she called, "A meal, if you please, and a room for the night."
Faith sat at a small table in the back corner by the fire to dry off. It wasn't long before a young girl brought her a bowl of some sort of borscht style soup. It was hot and well seasoned.
"Can you tell the mayor I have arrived," Faith said as the girl departed. "I am here under contract with the Iron Order to deal with your werewolf." The girl looked skeptical, but she promised to fetch the mayor all the same.
"With the Iron Order are ya?" questioned one of the drunker patrons who had evidently overheard her speaking with the young serving girl.
"Yep," replied Faith curtly.
"You don't look like no fighter," said the man as he stumbled to his feet. He walked over to Faith's table and leered at her cleavage. "You look like you should be ironing an order of laundry!"
That comment got a soft chuckle from some of the other men.
"Look here girly," said the man as he rested a hand on Faith's shoulder, "Why don't you come up to my room and I'll show you a real hairy beast."
Faith moved like lightning, gripping the man by his wrist and elbow, twisting and slamming him face first into her bowl of soup. The man crumpled to the floor unconscious. A few others made to stand but Faith had her sword unsheathed before they made it to their feet -- they sat back down.
"Very good," said the mayor as he walked into the room, "I see the Iron Order sent a worthy initiate for this task."
