Kor'Ak spent the next morning in a rage.

By the time the sun had begun to rise, the remnants of a dozen scaly kobolds were plastered along his shield, staining the dull, hardy steel a deep scarlet. Within the hour, he'd returned to the guild hall, a burlap bag, dripping with blood was unceremoniously plopped down on the counter; the sack made a gentle squelch, as a thin spray of crimson painted the receptionist's cheek.

The Djálik man had to admit, he felt bad as he watched the young girl pull two dozen still-bleeding, pointed ears from the sack; though the weight on his soul lightened as she slided over another stack of paperwork, along with a small stack of Gold Krowns. Kor'Ak pocketed the money, apologised and quickly moved on; simple Bounty quests didn't have a great payoff, but they were reliable work; the extra change ensured that Kor'Ak would be able to finally make a purchase he was looking forward to as well.

His commission should have been completed by now.

The Djálik ex-soldier had been dissapointed when he found that the item he was looking to use for his impending hunt wasn't available in Bruma, commercially or otherwise. Instead Kor'Ak had had to make personal requests for the items that he desired; the raw materials were available, but not the finished product. It had taken no more than a few days for him to find both a willing crafstmen and the ingredients he would require.

His first stop was simple, he'd requested that a blacksmith provide him with a number of steel canisters, screw-topped metal lids that would hold under high pressure; the dark giant had also requested that the blacksmith sell him any old fragments of metal, useless scraps, bent nails and small, rusted rivets. The blacksmith had told him it would take a day for him to complete the canisters he had requested, and that he could pick up any scraps at the time as well.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Kor'Ak's next stop was the easiest and simplest of them all, he'd purchased a few gallons of water, cheap, but heavy to lug around; before his final stop he'd made sure to drop off the water at his room.

Finally, he had made a request from a mage; a Cryomancer to be exact. He knew how to make these canisters, the Djálik military had often used them when raiding enemy structures, but was not capable of creating the most vital ingredient on his own. A cooling agent made of thin air, the material was not naturally occuring, and had only been discovered a decade ago. The Cryomancer he had spoke to had referred to it as 'Winter's Breath' when he had described the material, but he knew it by a different name, with less poetry and more practicality. 'Dry Ice'. Nevertheless, a few hours and the promise of a dozen Gold Krowns was all the Cryomancer had asked for.

Admittedly, Kor'Ak's currently dwindling coffers seemed like they would have preferred the Cryomancer ask for a little less.

Kor'Ak had finally collected his commissions and returned to his room just after noon. The dry ice he had requested was neatly wrapped in thick leather; it was a light slab of the stuff, a few inches thick and half a foot long. The cannisters were heavier than expected; and would become heavier after Kor'Ak poured half a litre of water (around two thirds of the volume of the cannisters) into each individual cannister. The last step was to spread the scrap he had purchased evenly between the cannisters and seal the containers. The dry ice was for later. At long last, Kor'Ak showed a wide smile, a feeling of pride welling up inside him as he looked at his seven makeshift bombs.

They would be a worthwhile investment.

Kor'Ak checked in at the guild once more, asking the now cleaned-up receptionist for any more information on his quest. He was in luck, other people weren't. His target had been seen no more than an hour ago; leaving a satyr village in flames. The Djál set off immediately, supplies packed, ready for a war, not just a hunt.

This wyvern was a fucking dead beast walking.