"What am I going to do with it?" Markus asked Willow helplessly as they watched his new, baby Drake tear happily through a large haunch from a cow. Already it was past the size of the kitten it had been when he'd gotten it an hour ago and now it was closer to the size of a medium-sized dog. And still growing, if the scales it kept shedding like fur were anything to go by.

"No clue," Willow answered him as she wiped down the bar without looking, eyes on the creature with black scales. "You could always sell it?"

"What?" Markus looked at her in confusion. "No! I meant what am I going to do with it tonight. I can't have a growing mount, one that eats meat, in a tavern causing problems while I'm trying to talk a bunch of people into doing something for me."

"Oooooohhhhhhh," she said, drawing the word out slowly at his explanation. "That's easy then, I'll take it until you're done."

"Will you be okay?" he asked her as the sound of a snapping bone rang out from where the Drake was enthusiastically eating.

"I'll be fine," she assured him. "You said that it was trained right?"

"Yeah, it is," Markus sighed as he called up the simplistic status screen for the Drake.

n/a

???? ???? Drake

Draconic Scales

Draconic Healing

Draconic Strength

Ice Resistant

Fire Resistant

Trained

????? ???? Breath

Fast Growth

"Well, if the animal is trained, then I'll be fine," Willow assured him. "What's its name?"

"I haven't thought of one," Markus admitted to her.

"Want some help?" she asked with an excited smile.

"Please," Markus latched onto the lifeline immediately.

"Well, let's take a look at them," she said, stepping out from behind the bar and approaching the Drake that was just finishing the beef haunch that had been twice its size when it started eating. "It'll be good to know if you're dealing with a boy or girl anyway."

"Why?" Markus asked as he knelt beside her, looking at the much bigger stomach the Drake had after eating.

"You can't pick a name that sounds pretty and girly for a boy," Willow told him with a chuckle as she prodded the Drake onto its back. "Just like you can't pick a name that's vicious and masculine for a girl."

"I guess I get it," Markus agreed as Willow held the Drake's hindlegs apart and searched for any equipment it might have. "Looking at this, I'm going to say that it's a girl."

"Lizards and other reptiles don't have the same indicators that dogs and cats do," she told him as she turned the Drake from side to side. For its part, the young creature groaned unhappily at the movements but offered no resistance.

"Then how do you tell?" Markus asked. "Lift the tail?"

"For some, yes," Willow nodded. "But for Draconic creatures like this one, you can tell by the presence of a sheathe."

"A sheathe?" Markus asked. "For what?"

"For the penis," she answered as though that were obvious. "Males will have one and it will protect it in day to day activities and fighting. Females won't have one."

"That's enough dragon anatomy for my lifetime," Markus said seriously as he looked carefully at his Drake. "I'm not seeing anything, so does that mean I was right?"

"This time," Willow nodded as she let the decidedly female Drake roll onto her side again. "Now comes the fun part, picking the name."

"Any suggestions?" Markus asked hopefully. "All I'm thinking of is something dumb like Princess."

"Princess is acceptable," Willow smiled. "Dragons are prideful though, and that extends to the other creatures in the Draconic family too. You might invite more problems down the line if you named her Princess. How about Fauna?"

"Sounds like something Axel would name a deer," Markus told her seriously. "Anything else?"

"Well, Tiamat is always a go-to," Willow said.

"Isn't that the name of the evil Dragon God?" Markus asked.

"What? No," Willow told him. "It's the name of the Dragoness that Martin, the First Hero slew, founding the start of this city with the wealth from her hoard. Dragon's don't have gods."

"Huh," Markus said. "Anything else?"

"Are you going to keep shooting my ideas down?" she asked with an arched brow.

"You've given two ideas and I'll admit, they were both good ones, but look at her," he said, gesturing to the Drake. "Does she look like a Fauna or a Tiamat to you?"

"She looks like she's sleeping," Willow pointed out, grinning at the exasperated look Markus pointed toward her. "What about something else?"

"Like what?" he asked.

"What does she look like to you?" she responded. "When you see her, what do you think she'll embody the most as a Drake? What do you think will fit her best as a name?"

Markus turned and followed her advice, really looking at the Drake and trying to imagine what the future would bring her. Tiny crown of horns extending upward from her head, two of them pointing forward, the rest upward. Black scales that seemed to be lightening as more of them were shed, an icy blue color already marking one or two. A tail with a wicked tip that reminded him of a flanged mace that he'd seen another player carrying. Talons that already promised to rip through armor as easily as flesh.

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"She looks like she'll be a terror to fight," he finally told Willow. "Until she rolls over like that and flashes her business to the world."

At his words, the Wood Elf burst into laughter at the Drake that was laying happily on her back, legs pointing into the air and tongue lolling out of her mouth and resting over her nose.

"Something that inspires fear then?" she asked with a smile. "Or something that makes people laugh?"

"Why not both?" Markus asked, looking at the Drake. "How about Kalexia? That sounds Draconic enough to me and I've never heard of a Dragon with that name."

"Kalexia?" Willow said. "Are you sure?"

"No, that's why I'm asking you," Markus told her.

"I can see how you could make Kalexia into something that people fear," Willow said carefully, "but not into something they can laugh at."

"That's because I'm making it something they'll laugh at right now and something they'll fear later," Markus explained. "Everyone hates kale. It's like the worst vegetable ever. 'Kalexia' has 'kale' in it, so they'll hear that and laugh and then they'll hear what she's done and they'll be afraid."

"If that's how you want to do it," Willow said with a smile that made Markus unsure if she was looking at a little child or not. "Kalexia it is."

"Kalexia it is," Markus agreed as a notification flashed in front of him.

Would you like to name your mount "Kalexia?" This is an irreversible decision.

"Yes," Markus answered.

"Good turnout tonight," Wulf told Markus as they watched the tavern fill with his artisan friends and more that he had told Markus he only knew in passing.

"Better than I'd hoped," Markus agreed as a Halfling with a large scar on his forehead entered talking with a Human wearing glasses. "Do you have enough food and drink?"

"Of course I do," Wulf told him as one of the waitresses grabbed a pitcher of beer from the counter and began to refill drinks at one of the tables. "It's not the first time I've had a private party in my tavern."

"I'm sure you know what you're doing," Markus placated the Dwarf before he became angry. "I'm just nervous."

"Then take some advice from me," Wulf said, looking him firmly in the eye. "Don't sweat the details before you have answers. Everything will work out somehow. It might go in your favor from the start, and it might go to shit as soon as you open your mouth, but it'll all work out."

"That almost helps," Markus grinned at him. "Thanks."

"Can't say I didn't try," Wulf sighed. "When are you going to start talking to them?"

"In a minute," Markus said, turning back to examine the room as more crafter trickled in. "You'll start serving food when I'm done?"

"So long as you don't talk them into burning my tavern down," Wulf nodded.

Markus and Wulf continued to make small talk as time passed and the crafters spoke to one another, more than one shooting curious or suspicious looks at Markus as he stood at the bar in his armor. Finally, when it seemed that everyone who was coming had arrived, Markus pushed away from the bar and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me," he called loudly over the talking crafters, grabbing their attention and bringing quiet to the room. "Excuse me. Thank you all for coming tonight. I'm sure you all want to get right to the meat of the matter and enjoy a nice meal and a few drinks with friends and acquaintances, so I will try to be brief and tell you all why I asked you here."

"My name is Markus," Markus said, looking over the seated people as they all stared at him. "I have been made a Marquis by the King Martin of Hero's Crypt, and I have been asked to help the Church of Grindel with their undead issue. The Church has asked me to lead other Last Stars like myself and keep them in line as the undead are dealt with by the combined efforts of the Church and the Last Stars that agree to help them. The Church approached me for help because they were unable to keep the Last Stars that were already helping them from charging ahead recklessly. I had an idea that I felt would solve that issue and would help my fellow Last Stars. I have discussed this idea with the Church and they have agreed to try it, but for that, I need your help."

Markus took a breath before continuing, hoping that he wasn't insulting the gathered crafters.

"I would like all of you to consider offering your services as crafters to the Church," he told them, sparking mutters to begin to spread through the crowd. "The Church is prepared to build workshops, warehouses, and housing for you all as well as gather any resources that you might want or require for this. They are also prepared to offer a salary that they will pay until the undead are taken care of."

"Why?" one of the crafters called out. "Why do they want our help? What do they need us for?"

At the Elvish man's words, several other crafters nodded in agreement with his questions and some repeated them.

"The Church," Markus said, raising his voice to be heard clearly over the rest, "is hoping to build a walled fort in the area where the undead have been gathered and will use that fort as a staging point for the Last Stars to clear the undead away. The Last Stars will be rewarded with contribution points that they will be able to spend as a limited currency at this fort. Using these points, they will be able to buy your services and make connections to excellent crafters."

At his words many of the crafters seemed to grow angry at the idea that they would be all but giving their services away; all of them speaking angrily over one another.

"As I said," Markus yelled out. "The Church is prepared to pay you for your services. In fact, it isn't the established masters we want from you! It's the apprentices that need to be tested without their masters to clean up after them. It's the ones that can't seem to gain any customers from your services because the market feels saturated with more accomplished crafters than you. If you want the chance to work on projects that you don't have time for, then sign on and we'll have a workshop built for that."

As his words sunk in, the crafters' anger seemed to cool slightly, and many of them reconsidered the offer.

"The Last Stars like me aren't capable of making full use of a master's work," Markus said. "They aren't capable of doing more than swinging a sword and holding a spear. For us, this is an opportunity to really figure out how to fight, work with each other, use a weapon, and so much more. With some of you there, we can have the chance to get a weapon that we wouldn't have been able to get for a long time. With you there, we'll be able to focus on killing undead and solving the problem without worrying about what happens if our armor breaks."

"Another thing, that I hope you will at least consider," Markus continued, looking at the crafters and nearly falling over in relief at the fact that many of them did seem to be considering his words. "If some of you would consider offering us lessons in more basic crafting disciplines, such as leatherworking as a whole, or blacksmithing, or tailoring; on behalf of the Last Stars that would love to have the chance to learn these disciplines, thank you."

"Now," Markus said, wrapping up his part of the night. "I know I've given all of you something very important to think about. Please stay, eat, and talk with those around you. I will be leaving to grab someone from the Church of Grindel that will help me to answer more of your questions. If you have those questions, please be patient, enjoy the food that's been prepared, and I will return. And if you want to tell me where I can shove my offer, I'll be back for that too."

As he finished speaking, chuckles coming from some of the gathered crafters, Wulf led his waitresses from out of the kitchen, all loaded down with bowls and plates as they began to serve food to them all. While the crafters began to speak with each other, discussing the offer, Markus moved out the door and stepped out into the alley to see Chesterfield waiting for him, Paladins and priests on guard around him.

"Is it my turn?" the Head Priest asked.

"Not yet," Markus said, moving to the front of the alley and sitting on a bench that had been placed there. "I've made the pitch, and they're all talking about it over food, so I figure we'll give them a half an hour or so before we go in."

"A wise choice," Chess said, sitting beside him. "I must remember to thank Master Stouthammer for allowing us to bring this business into his tavern."

"I've already paid him," Markus said, holding out five Silver. "Maybe tell him that you wanted to offer him more money for his service or something."

"That's an excellent idea," Chess said as he took the Silver coins. "It will also allow me to keep the Church in at least one business' good graces. Or try to anyway."

"Is everything ready for tomorrow?" Markus asked him.

"We have a conference room within the Church prepared," Chess nodded. "Now all we need is to talk with the architects and city planners and hire a construction company or five and we'll be ready for everything but the actual meeting."

"I knew this wouldn't be easy," Markus said. "But this is starting to seem kind of doable."

"Pantheon willing," Chess agreed. "Grindel help us all if it doesn't work."