Day 4,508

I arrived in Delmarva after a fortnight, exhausted and starving. Traveling by foot was torture to me, but I could not take Aderyn with me while she was expecting; a pregnant dragon is unfit for a long journey, and I'd rather suffer cramps and hunger than ride a moody fire-breathing lizard.

Thankfully, the inn was accommodating. The proprietor was polite, the roast beef tasted excellently, and the cute barmaid had served me well with pleasant smiles. Everything a weary Slayer needed after a long journey in the wilderness.

While I was eating, I heard two men sitting around the table next to mine, talking about a Muulwark stalking the nearby forest, piquing my interest. The last one I had hunted was more than a year ago; an ugly creature the size of a small house, which I had slain quite easily and earned me a sizable reward.

I entertained the thought of hunting another one. It was always good to have some spare cash, and I needed the exercise after days of relative peace and quiet on the road.

After finishing my meal in earnest and dropping a few coppers on the counter, I went straight to the Slayer Hall at the center of the town. There were not many of my fellow Slayers here in Delmarva, and of those I saw, very few had reached my rank. Most, if not all, seemed to be bronze ranks passing by the town on their way to cities.

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The receptionist was a boring, bald individual who looked like he had been left alone in the kitchen when he was little. His chair kept rattling under his weight whenever he shifted his bloated body, and the sound made me want to scratch the inside of my ears. But I held my patience, and registered for the first time in Delmarva. I handed him my steel identification badge, stamped with the Slayer’s symbol—a demon’s head on a pike—and edged with a thin strip of gold, denoting my rank.

The registration took only five minutes, and soon I received information about the Muulwark. As I walked back to the inn with the sun nearly gone on the horizon, my mind raced with plans and contingencies; overconfidence was always the bane of many Slayers, even one as experienced as myself.

I entered my room after conversing with a Slayer who had the chance to encounter the monster last week. He had injured it, he said, but it fled before he could deliver the killing blow. Armed with that new information, I reviewed my equipment and supplies. I still have some healing potions, and two elixirs that would increase my speed. My weapons are still sharp, and I haven’t fully spent my plethora of throwing bombs and darts yet. Satisfied, I prepare to retire for the night.

The room I rented was small, but it was comfortable enough for me to write in this journal without distractions. I need ample rest tonight.

Tomorrow, I begin the hunt.