Decades ago, in the Old Kingdom...
Quora sat at a heavy dark wood table in a torchlit lounge. Bookcases lined the walls, and a roaring fireplace provided warmth. The floors were covered with burgundy carpets. A banner depicting a yellow dragon rampant on burgundy field hung above the fireplace. At the table with her was Moonfang in her human form, wearing an elegant purple silk dress and a discreet silver tiara, her white hair tied into a long ponytail. Across from Quora was a rotund man who wore a burgundy tunic and trousers with a heavy crown on his brow. On his chair, he had hung up his mantle of burgundy trimmed with white fur. His grey beard and muttonchops were like a mane on his cheerful face. He had thick laugh lines, and his eyes were almost always drawn into slits from his smiling, hiding the purple eyes beneath. Quora seemed to be playing a game of Thirteen Ambush with this man, with Moonfang content to watch with a soft smile on her face. Quora and the man had thirteen playing cards dealt and arranged into a line face-up on the table. The man had eight cards remaining, while Quora had ten.
Quora slid a card toward the man's cards, brushing her blonde hair aside, "I commit my three, Fafnir."
Fafnir rubbed his chin and checked his board. He could respond to her play with a two or an ace. He shook his head, "Shouldn't waste my two and definitely not trading an ace for that. Your three gets through."
He took Quora's three and placed it to his side, along with a seven he had also allowed through. He chuckled and slid a jack toward Quora's cards, "Here's one for you!"
Quora crossed her arms. The jack was opposed by her two and a four. She swapped the two for an adjacent ten and slid it with the four against the jack, "I'll trade these."
"Aww. I forgot you still had your switch." Fafnir said as the three cards in play were discarded. He looked to Moonfang, "Would've had her, though, right Muunfareng?"
"You would have, Fafnarok." Moonfang agreed, "But I think Qorrametz has you finished."
"Yeah?" He looked at his board and noted the gap where his jack had been. Then he saw Quora's board. "Oh, shoot..."
Quora shoved a king toward Fafnir's board, opposed only by a five and a seven. Fafnir's jack had prevented this play earlier. Unable to stop the king, it was added to the three and seven Quora had given him. Fafnir's total had exceeded twenty-one, making Quora the winner.
"Almost isn't fair, you know?" Fafnir said as he gathered the cards, "Qorrametz has got the brains and the brawn! She picked up this game faster than any of my subjects, and now I can't get one up on her."
Quora sat back in her chair, arms crossed. She tilted her head and grinned, "How do your sycophants usually fare?"
"They are not sycophants." Fafnir's jolly face turned serious, "If you let the king win, you were not interested in the game. I don't have time for such people. The same applies to all facets of my court."
Quora relented, "Merely teasing, Fafnir. I know how much you care about the human kingdom you've built."
Fafnir's jolly demeanour returned, "Your barbs are sharper than most, Qorrametz. It's part of why I very much enjoy our time together. Your human shape is looking lovely, by the way."
Quora smiled, "Oh, thank you, Fafnir."
"The blonde hair, though..." Fafnir said, "Were it up to me? Black hair. I love black hair! It would contrast well with your outfit and make your eyes stand out."
Moonfang brought her hand to her chin, "...Should my hair be black, Fafnarok?"
"No, no, you're beautiful just the way you are." Fafnir brought Moonfang close and kissed her. He then offered the deck of cards to Quora, "So! Another game?"
"Please." Quora took the deck and dealt a new round of Thirteen Ambush.
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It seemed such a little thing at the time. Pretending to be humans and playing human games, Quora never realized the memories she created on those quiet nights with Fafnir and Moonfang. She missed those times. They all came back when she looked upon King Dreamford, reminding her of what he had taken. She felt her eyes become glassy.
No, I must keep my focus...
She dropped the cinnamon roll.
Blast it!
"Littering in my court? I could have you thrown in jail for that and your little display at the main gates. A marriage jape, was it?" said Dreamford with an amused smirk, "But that would hardly be proper - after all, jail is the last place for a long-expected guest."
"Dremfrrdon." Quora said, "That was the least I could do to undermine your little magic barrier - it never ceases to annoy me."
"I should hope so," stated Dreamford. "It was built to keep monsters like yourself out." He took on a sadistic grin. "Speaking of which, how fares your curse? Raze any holy cities lately?"
The reminder was like a stab in the heart—the curse that had kept Quora's true form sealed away; and when she tried to change into it, she became a natureless brute. She remembered that day, long ago, when she attacked Myrellia after suffering a grave insult from their spiritual leader. Their salvation lay not in their goddess but in Fafnir and Dreamford, who felt pressed to intervene and lay this curse upon her. As far as the humans know, the five-headed Beast of Myrellia has not been seen since. Quora raised an arm and let her shape slip, watching it grow gnarled, muscular, and covered in scales - but she could let her shape slip no further.
"I've made do as I've had to," Quora said.
Dreamford crossed his arms, "Weakened, has it? I can lift it entirely if you wish...And you know precisely what I'd want from you."
"I don't want to think about it."
"Become my mate, Qorrametz." insisted Dreamford, "Our race is in danger, and I have little confidence in a quiet pacifist like Muunfareng to protect her eggs."
Dreamford dared take Quora's hand, "If not for me, then for the good of dragonkind. Our kind once ruled this land - we can do so again, with you as my bewitching queen."
Quora's consideration was fleeting. She took Dreamford's hand and brought her crushing grip to bear.
"You murder your own brother. You speak ill of Muunfareng. You dare ask me for me to lay your clutch, runt?" thundered Quora, "Muunfareng's eggs will hatch, and we will see where dragonkind goes from there."
She released Dreamford. He staggered back, raising his bent and crippled hand with confoundment. He called upon his magic to restore his hand, "...Very well, if that is not why you've come, then state your business."
Quora slowly circled Dreamford as she recounted her tale in Myrellia, "I recently had an outing to the holy city. I made quite the discovery there - Myratel has returned, and that her light destroys mana wherever it touches."
Dreamford froze, "...I'll not ask why you were there. What do you mean destroys it?"
"Magic will not respond. I imagine your magical trinkets will...break." Quora darkly laughed, "I daresay your kingdom would be doomed should Myratel decide to grace you. Why, I would never return to my true form, were that to happen! Then who would lay your clutch, hmm?"
Dreamford's brow furrowed, "You vex me? I'll not suffer these lies in my court. If there is nothing else, get out."
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Quora sighed, "Too bad. I also seek your brother's writings. I know you are spiteful enough to keep some within this castle, far from prying eyes."
Dreamford waved a dismissive arm, "You cannot have them. I keep them in my strongest vault. That madman's writings are deadlier than the weapons kept within."
Quora shrugged, "Then our business is concluded. It's a shame we could not help each other. I'm sure we'll see each other again, Dremfrrdon."
She turned to take her leave of the throne room, leaving Dreamford visibly confounded. She grinned.
If you won't give me those writings, I'll have to take them.
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Of course, Quora realized she might need to try a different approach. The last time she attempted to steal from an important place, she attracted the attention of a goddess and inadvertently caused her to reawaken and begin spreading her deadly magic-consuming light. Quora thought to consult a professional, and she had just the man in mind: Eramus, the thief Cyrus had hired to help him steal from Moonfang.
Still, Quora was rather flustered that Dreamford didn't believe her about Myratel, though she often cursed him as one who was empirical to a fault. That was well - all it meant was that Dreamford would have to learn firsthand the threat of Myratel, an image Quora found very amusing.
Night was nearly falling as she wandered Dreamford's streets, pondering where she might find this thief. Streetlamps began to glow their pale blue, and Dreamford's bustling life seemed far away. The magical shield surrounding the city gave the night sky a pale sheen. The town certainly made an excellent first impression, unlike Myrellia, but that only made it harder for Quora to imagine where the criminally inclined preferred to lurk. She overheard a pair of guards talking - they had just finished their shifts, and they referred to a place called 'slums' where, allegedly, crime was a constant occurrence. They bid each other farewell and went their separate ways. Quora approached one of the guards and asked where she could find 'slums.'
"The East End's real bad this time of night," said the guard, pointing in the selfsame direction, "I wouldn't go that way if I were you."
Quora rolled her eyes, "I can take care of myself. Trust me."
The guard shrugged, "If you say so..." and went on his way.
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There was a downhill drop on the way to the East End as if the lowest part of the city would be quite literally the lowest part of the city. The streets were ill-maintained, and most of the arcane streetlamps needed to be fixed or had been patched up and were flickering randomly. Quora could hear voices from the dark alleyways - she knew she was being watched. A large and unshaven man with a crooked, toothy smile came from one of the alleyways and into a flickering light. His bald forehead had a terrible scar with staples holding it shut, and his eyes bulged from beneath his thick brow. He carried a sap in his hand, which he spun threateningly. He loomed over Quora and cackled darkly.
"Hey girlie, how 'bout some-"
Quora was in no mood to hear what he wanted. She smashed her fist into the man's face, sending him toppling backward and on his rear. She drove her foot into his chest and pinned him to the pavement.
"I'm looking for someone. Eramus. Tell me where to find him." Quora demanded.
The man coughed, "How d'you think I'd know, huh?! Besides, even if I knew-"
She ground her heel into his chest.
"Ow, ow!" the man sputtered, "The Brewster a block around the bend! Brown hair, blue cloak, pair o' hooks, can't miss 'im!"
Quora relented and stepped off the man. He stood up, dusting himself off, "You're nasty as they come. Name's Pinky, I'll let the boys know not to bother you, eh?"
Quora smirked, "...Pinky."
She felt a mixture of relief and dissatisfaction at the fact she no longer felt like she was being watched - relief that further thugs would leave her alone, dissatisfaction that further thugs would leave her alone and thus give her no excuse to beat them. Another block around the bend, as Pinky said, and a seedy tavern came into view: the probably-but-hopefully-not-aptly-named Dingy Brewster. As run-down as every other building here, there was something oddly inviting about the warm light within. Quora could hear the life within and let herself into the tavern.
The Brewster was a crowded ruckus of drinking and cavorting, enough that Quora's entrance went largely unnoticed. Surprisingly clean, it was a simple place with round wood tables and chairs, a line of booth tables on one end, and a bar lined with men on stools enjoying themselves. Waitresses busily ran orders to the tables, and Quora was impressed by how deftly they worked their way through the crowd without dropping a single drink. She scanned the people for the man Pinky described, and he was at the booth tables across from a thuggish man. Brown hair, a blue cloak with the hood down, a cocky smile, and a pair of grappling hooks at his waist. None of those were what stood out to Quora.
It was the fact he was playing Thirteen Ambush.
"Oh, curse this game!" the thuggish man exclaimed. He shoved a stack of gold coins to Eramus before getting up from the table and leaving the tavern, brushing past Quora. Eramus had a wry grin as he counted the money he'd won. Quora loosened her top as she took her seat across from Eramus. He stopped counting and gawked momentarily, eying his money and then Quora before he spoke.
"And, uh, how are we tonight?" Eramus said awkwardly, "What, you supposed to be a dancer or something?"
Quora took on a sultry tone, "A sorceress, boy. I hear you're quite the thief." she rapped the table with her hand, "Well? Aren't you going to deal me in?"
"Depends who's asking." Eramus replied as he shuffled the playing cards and dealt a round of Thirteen Ambush, "I don't work for free, so you can knock it off with that." he tilted his head to Quora's chest.
Damn it.
Quora giggled, "How about a gamble, then? If I win this round, I get to cast any spell I please on you. If you win..."
Uhhhh...
"...I will grant you a wish." Quora softly swayed, keeping her eyes on Eramus.
Eramus grinned, "Yeah? You'll need that wish to beat me - you're on."
Quora and Eramus looked through their cards and arranged them face-down. Quora noted that she had been dealt a likely hand, including the queen of spades - Eramus was no cheater. The two revealed their cards, and Quora almost laughed at what she saw: Eramus used the exact strategy Quora did when she played with Fafnir, placing all of her powerful cards at the far ends of her spread rather than building her middle. The first turns of the game saw both players committing weaker cards until the lowest card on the table was nine. Quora's total was eleven, Eramus was at six, and both players had used their switches. A small crowd had gathered to watch the game - or watch Quora; she was too invested in the game to notice.
Eramus committed a jack, "Let him in, and that's that unless you want to toss a king."
Quora defended with a king.
"Oh. Okay, then."
The cards were removed from play, and then Quora smiled. She slowly pushed her queen of spades to Eramus, who was opposed by a king and another queen. "You know the rules of the queen of spades. Right, boy?"
Eramus went white, and the crowd reacted enthusiastically. The queen of spades was worth fifteen when committed to attack rather than her usual twelve, but a player exceeding her value on defence would be defeated outright. Eramus raised his hands and fell back in his seat, the crowd cheering that this woman had managed to get one over on Eramus. They departed the scene, recounting excitedly moments in the game they enjoyed.
"Alright." Eramus said, "What magick are you gonna grease me with?"
Quora stood up and took Eramus by his cloak, "Come."
Eramus scrabbled to grab his money off the table as Quora brought him out in front of the Brewster. In her mind, she recalled the spell she had taken from Moonfang's collection some time ago. She brought him around the building where none could see them.
"Eramus," Quora said, slowly closing in on Eramus, "There is something I need you to steal for me."
"Whoa, now." Eramus shook his head, "I said I don't work for free. This was supposed to be a spell, remember?"
"It is."
Quora unleashed her spell. Her hands glowed with a red light, and she grabbed Eramus' chest. He struggled against her, but Quora was too strong for him. She softly moved her hand over his mouth when he tried to call for help. He could only grunt and fight as the red light consumed him.
"Eramus." Quora rumbled, "I shall put a geas upon you! You will do my bidding, or this curse will kill you."
She released Eramus, and he shuddered and shook until he fell to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for breath.
"Hooks, it feels like...hooks..." Eramus uttered, "My chest...it's crushing my chest..."
"Get up," Quora ordered. Eramus struggled to rise to his feet, apparently getting relief from the pain when he followed Quora's orders.
"I want you to break into Castle Dreamford and get into the king's vault. There are writings I want you to take, Visions of Fafnir; you will know when you see them." Quora pondered if Eramus could be of more use than this, "...The vault is full of weaponry, as well. Take a weapon that you can conceal. You may need it."
Eramus looked to the castle and slowly nodded, "I'll have the job done tonight."
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In Castle Dreamford...
King Dreamford sat, his face darkened, his knuckles white, and his hands shaking as he gripped the arms of his throne hard. He seethed under his breath, "How dare she...Our race is dying, and she remains so defiant?"
"If she will not submit to me..."
The heavy doors to his throne room creaked open, and in strode a hulking man in iron armour. His red scarf and saw-like cleaver were unmistakable. He saluted Dreamford as he approached. A gruff voice from beneath his helm declared, "Hadtrane the Dragoon, sir!"
"Welcome, you're just in time." Dreamford said, "I have a business proposition for you. I think you will find the rewards well worth the risk."
"Yeah, yeah..." Hadtrane uttered, "I'm listening."
Dreamford stood up and paced about Hadtrane, "A terrible beast threatens my people. My mystical shield is strong, but I fear it can only hold out for so long against what could come. Your job will be to slay this beast."
Hadtrane kept his eyes on Dreamford. He nodded, "What's the pay like?"
"As a reward for your success in this, I will bequeath upon you one of my castles - complete with tax-exempt status, a staff of servants, and a garrison of my finest troops for protection." said Dreamford, "I will also offer you the hand of my daughter, the princess Cordelia, in marriage. You could retire and marry into my family, Hadtrane."
Hadtrane removed his helmet, revealing the shock plain upon his scarred face, "Can't say no to an opportunity to never have to work again. Who do I have to kill?"
Dreamford stopped pacing. He approached Hadtrane and came inches from his face, his glasses shining white.
"I want you to kill Moonfang."