Chapter 1
"Finally! It's my eighteenth birthday!" Baldwulf jumped out of bed, the wolf-furs he used for a blanket hitting the straw-laden floor as he began getting ready to meet the day. The boy, usually not one for mornings, surprised his mother and younger brother, both of which were out behind their modest, thatched roof hovel working in the garden.
"Wulf," his mother called out, her eyes following the youth as he broke from the house and came to a stop.
"Yes?"
"Your father is in town, waiting for you. We'd go to your ceremony, but," she sighed, motioning towards the cabbages and potatoes she was working on harvesting. He took a brief detour from his excitement to go over to and hung his mother tightly. They both knew that it would be quite some time before they'd see each other again, but as he pulled away and locked eyes with her, he could tell that she would miss him dearly.
Slowly, she reached towards the back of her neck, untying a piece of string from which a ring hung, made from intertwined cords of silver and meeting around a small garnet. She took his hand, placing it in his palm, then closing it.
"Please be safe. This was your fathers, passed down from his father before him, and his father before his. It's powerful, and they have gotten plenty of use with it." She rubbed the back of his hand gently.
"Does it do anything?" After she released his hand, he opened his palm to observe the ring and then tie the string around his neck.
"Your father never told me, and neither did your grandfather. They just said that you'd know when to use it when the time came." He received another hug from her and, after giving his younger sibling a hug, he was off to the guard's barracks in town. For a regular day, the small town appeared relatively liveless: the king had pulled out a lot of people to help build up the capitol, so that could explain it.
"Baldwulf?" A familiar voice called out to the brown-haired youth, "Baldwulf Drage? Is that you?"
When he turned his head to meet the voice, his deep blue eyes met those of his father, chuckling with his arms crossed. Behind him stood a few more guards, fully suited up in their turquoise tabards, chainmail, and kettle helmets. Each carried something that would prove essential to the new adventurer.
"Father, I am ready. You have spent years training me, and I have spent many more longing to go out and see the world!" He approached his father, his head barely reaching his ancestor's mustache.
"I'm sure you are. Have you said goodbye to your mother?"
Wulf nodded.
"And your little brother?"
Wulf nodded again. His father smiled and gave his son a warm hug, the mail tinkling as he moved. Once in close, they resorted to whispers.
"Did she give you the ring?"
"Yes, she did. Father, what does it do?"
"It will help you best your adversaries. The stone will start glowing when you feel in danger, a dim glow, and will grow brighter when you point it towards someone, or something. The rest will be figured out as you go. I have faith that you won't abuse it."
Wulf gave an affirmative 'mmph' before the two broke their embrace. The other three guards moved up and knelt down, offering the young man three items: pads of leather to be worn over his clothing for protection, a bag full of simple trail rations, to keep him sated for at least five days, and an iron arming sword along with a shortbow and quiver of twelve arrows. Wulf took each one, securing the pads to his shins, the bracers to his forearms, and the harness to his chest before attaching the sheath to his belt. The guards helped attach his quiver, sling the ration bag over his shoulder, and secure the bow across his lower back.
One final, affectionate smack on the arm from his father and Wulf was off, watching his home recede into the distance as he went up the hill and over into the surrounding forest. He used a small strip of leather to tie back his hair into a bun, finding that keeping his face free of hair would be the most comfortable and wouldn't hamper his ability to see. The anxiety finally set in: he was no longer in the warmth of his home. He was now alone, walking down the winding dirt roads of the forest, listening to the gentle breeze against the leaves, the chirping of the birds, and admiring the various temperate trees which crowded the landscape.
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Chapter 2
The first night went by without a hitch! The tent was easy to set up, the bedroll clean, and his trail rations weren't too bad. When he woke, a light fog rolled along the floor of the forest, his fire pit full of blackened wood and ash. Out from his tent he scooted, stretched out his tired limbs and yawning towards the sky. He decided that, feeling no one would be up this early, he'd grab his sword and head out into the nearby trees to take a piss and maybe look around.
As he went to find a tree, he took off the necklace and removed the ring for the string. He looked it over closely, intrigued by the metalwork. Without much effort it slid onto his right ring finger, balling his hand into a fist before dropping his pants to do his business. Wulf initially didn't notice it, but the stone began to glow dimly: something was nearby. He put away his member and adjusted his pants before noticing the ring's glow. His brow lowered as he focused on the forest, looking around to try and figure out what might be causing the ring to react.
It was only when his eyes fell upon his campsite did he realize what it was. Standing by the fire pit was a rather fit woman of pale green skin. She had her black hair kept in what appeared to be two pony-tails that met to form a longer braid that reached to about half-way down her back. A skirt of furs hung from her waist along with two axes. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if they were failing him. No, she was certainly not wearing anything over her chest.
Drawing his sword from its sheath, he approached his campsite before actually contacting this being, "Hey! What're you doing with my campsite!?"
The woman looked over at him, purple eyes looking him up and down. He saw her lips curl into a smile, two small tusks coming up from behind her lower lip. Her arms crossed, he was met with a someone who was clearly comfortable enough to go around without anything covering up their chest. Either she didn't do this often, or perhaps she was so adept in combat that she didn't need the protection. Closer now, he could make out her hide boots and gauntlets.
The only breasts he had ever seen before were those of his mother, but that was so long ago. And didn't seem like her toned body, built from war, did anything to hamper their size. She let out a few low sputters, a rather cobbled chuckle, and then answered.
"You shouldn't leave your things out and about like this. It's practically an invitation for looters and thieves. Luckily I am neither, so you caught me." Her voice was alto in tone with a slight rasp, and she has the more imposing position, standing a full head taller than he.
"Why would you steal it? It's my stuff."
"But I could sell it or use it myself. You are young."
"I am strong."
"Life has been kind to you." He tilted his head, caught off guard that this rather barbaric woman could speak so well. That and he couldn't help but feel slightly aroused by her presence. She was strong, imposing, but she had a natural beauty. Her arms fell from beneath her bust, exposing a tattoo of what looked like a circle with three lines meeting just off center to the left. His father taught him to survive and to fight, but never about any symbols or about any creature beyond pesky goblins or dreaded dragons.
