AMBER IN PERIL
TALE #1: THE RED DRAGON'S RED HOT LUST
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"My daughter's life is in danger! Only you can rescue her!"
Thus spoke Duchess Irene, highest ranking noble this side of the Gemini Mountains. Her words were usually pleasing to the ear, almost musical in their quality. But today she sounded a heartbeat away from insanity.
"Please, Amber, do us this kindness." Her shrill voice had faded to a whisper. The elf duchess, perhaps 1,000-something years old, suddenly sounded as old as she must have felt. Trembling, she sat back down and slumped in her ivory throne. A servant brought her a glass of wine, his steady features betraying the slightest twinge of anxiety.
For a few seconds, all was silent in the great Elven Hall of Wellhaven. The only sound was that of wood scraping against marble.
Amber Sam had finished fidgeting with her leather armor and was now rocking back and forth in her chair like an impatient schoolgirl. Her cheeks were flushed. A few beads of sweat trickled down her small nose.
"I'm honored," she began.
"Wonderful! You'll set out at once. We've already procured a guide," Irene said, smiling broadly.
"--but I have a certain reputation when it comes to quests..."
"Those awful gauche rumors? I pay no heed to such gossip. Now, your guide is a man named Siegfried."
"--the thing is, Duchess, most of those rumors are true. I tend to get knocked flat on my, rear, quite often... And at the most inopportune times..."
"Yes yes, but you always succeed. You 'always' pull through." She waved with her free hand while downing her wine, as if the point had been settled eons ago and Amber was just now getting caught up to speed.
When Irene spoke, there was simply no room for argument. She had the candor and in-your-face charisma of a used camel salesman. In fact, when it came to wearing people down, the salesman could have taken a few pointers from Miss Irene Wellhaven. It's funny, Amber thought, just how similar a dirty huckster and a successful noblewoman could be.
The only real difference lay in the title. And the hygiene.
"Siegfried is a nice man and quite skilled too... For a human, mind you--oh, dear me, I meant no offense--he'll take you as far as Bald Mountain..." she drained her glass. Its twin was in her hand within the second. "Let's see... No real dangers along the way... Just one measly dragon... Then you can save my daughter and earn your generous reward."
Irene beamed and crossed her dark legs, swinging the left over her right and adopting a relaxed posture.
"Any questions?"
Amber groaned. She had dozens, most of which were directed towards herself. A dragon? How was she meant to beat a dragon all on her own? Without Magier's magic or Wulfric's poison arrows... Would it even be possible?
"What does your daughter look like?" Amber asked instead. She had already committed to the job. She might as well see it through.
Irene laughed while covering her mouth, fingers splayed.
"Silly girl, she looks just like her mother."
Raising an eyebrow, Amber took the chance to ogle her client. The elf duchess wore a tight form-fitting scarlet dress which clung to her navel while supporting her firm breasts up above and suggestively tracing the contours of her plump thighs below. Amber wondered if heaven had been as generous with Irene's daughter.
Her skin was a pale grey, dark enough to be noticeably inhuman but not so dark that she would disappear in the shadows. Her pointed ears were about as long as Amber's middle finger. They sometimes wiggled whenever the duchess got excited. All in all, she was a fairly attractive dark elf.
"I don't expect you'll encounter too many elves atop Bald Mountain."
"I agree, ma'am."
"And I should expect you'll want to leave sometime today."
"You read my mind, ma'am."
"Then maybe you'd like to stop eyeballing me and start rescuing my daughter before she is eaten." Irene's hand began to tremble, again.
Amber stood up, knocking her chair over. She bowed, excused herself, and left feeling stupider than usual.
Just once! She thought bitterly while mounting her stallion. Just once I'd like to start a quest without insulting my host!
She rode on with the wind blowing her short orange curls back and forth, a strange immature frown tugging at her otherwise comely features. Amber looked like a child's doll or a toy at times like these, when that over-serious expression plagued her and her mind went racing at a hundred miles a minute. She was worried about the dragon, the daughter, the reward, and her own life of course--but her thoughts had kept racing on, as always, and now she was seething with the memory of the Duchess's nearly flawless body.
"Some people have all the luck," she grumbled.
Adventurers were petty like that.
---
Amber smelled the bog before she saw it. The acidic vapors tickled her nose and made her wheeze. The marsh, which lay in the shadow of Bald Mountain, now seemed to surround her entirely. It was like a huge yellow hand waiting to squeeze her throat.
Mosquitoes buzzed and whined within earshot. She slapped her cheek without even thinking.
Her horse had finally halted after running nonstop for five hours. It whinnied and pranced nervously, tail flicking wildly to deter flies. The stallion stared ahead with dull black eyes and focused on some invisible threat lurking in the fog.
Amber looked along with it, trying to trace its stare. She saw nothing.
"Won't go any further, eh?" Amber sighed. She dismounted and grabbed her pack, her tools, and her sword. "I suppose I'll have to go it alone."
"Maybe you'd favor some company?"
Amber jolted and spun on her foot. She drew her sword and whirled around in one swift movement.
Her longsword's razor edge hovered inches away from the stranger's throat, which swallowed noiselessly. Despite this involuntary reaction, the young man seemed entirely unperturbed. He had a hard look in his eyes, tempered with some good humor and lots of laugh lines. He had either seen a lot of shit, or was good at pretending that he had.
"It's two days on foot. Five without a guide."
