The bison corpses were the first clue.
The veteran adventurers had spent two days harvesting the Plateback Bison herds, their hunts punctuated by unease at the strange happenings. Three times now, they had stumbled across carcasses that bore the unmistakable signs of a predator—massive puncture wounds, jagged tears through fur and bone, and clear evidence of a ferocious struggle.
Whatever had attacked the bison had been strong enough to take down bulls that required their full party to subdue. Worse, the if any remaining meat of the kills was tainted, riddled with some kind of infection that made it unsellable. The plating, however, remained intact, and the scavenged materials were a boon to their coffers. Still, the unsettling evidence was impossible to ignore.
“It’s not natural,” muttered Garret, their burly frontliner, as he hefted a carved bison plate into their cart. “Nothing we’ve seen in these plains hunts like this. You don’t kill a bull like that without showing yourself.”
The ranger, Lena, crouched over the tracks near the second carcass, her sharp eyes narrowing. “Whatever it is, it’s big,” she said, brushing away a tuft of trampled grass. “Tracks are faint—heavy, but careful. It’s moving like it doesn’t want to be found.”
Garret snorted, adjusting the strap of his gauntlet. “Let’s hope it stays that way. If this thing’s leaving kills behind, it’s either already full or doesn’t care about the rest of us. Either way, we don’t want to cross its path.”
“I don’t know, looks pretty eaten to me.” Lena says kicking the bison corpse.
The rest of the group murmured in agreement as they finished packing their spoils. As they made their way back toward Valos, the unease lingered. Whatever was out here in the plains was no ordinary predator. Reporting it to the guild was the next logical step.
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Jannet had departed the plains early, his massive form cutting a path through the tall grass as the first light of dawn broke over the horizon. The previous night’s hunt had left him satiated, though his human memories still reeled at the thought of raw meat. His lizard brain, however, reveled in the satisfaction of a successful kill. He had grown accustomed to cooking again in Newscar.
Bison tartare, he thought wryly, suppressing the faint churn of nausea from the ghost of his human self.
The Sovereign’s golden eyes scanned the horizon as he traveled, his tongue flicking out to taste the air. He had no intention of running into the human adventurers again; while they had shown no hostility thus far, he saw no need to push his luck. Instead, he moved with purpose, heading back to the meeting place where Clyde had promised to return.
As Jannet walked, his thoughts drifted. Images of the small village he had left behind—Old Ben’s weathered face, Jessica’s bright laughter, Thom’s determined gaze—flashed through his mind. He wondered if the nobles had truly learned their lesson, if the villagers had managed to hold onto their grain. His instincts told him he would need to check on them one day, to ensure they had not been trampled by the weight of human cruelty once again.
But for now, his path lay elsewhere. If Clyde kept his word, Jannet might finally secure the means to move freely in human lands. The possibility brought a strange flicker of hope, tempered by the weight of his hunger and his Sovereign instincts.
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By the time Clyde arrived, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the plains. Jannet had spent the morning basking in the warmth, his dark scales soaking in the sunlight as he lay hidden beneath a copse of trees near the road. He straightened as he spotted Clyde approaching, his massive frame shifting from a relaxed sprawl to a more deliberate posture.
Clyde dismounted from his horse with the confidence of a man carrying both good and bad news. His weathered face bore its usual calm mask, but Jannet’s keen eyes detected the faint lines of tension in his brow.
“You’ve been patient,” Clyde said as he approached, his tone almost conversational.
Jannet inclined his head slightly, the motion slow and deliberate. “Patience is the strength of my kind,” he replied, his voice a low rumble. “Have you returned with an answer?”
Clyde nodded, though his expression remained guarded. “After much debate, the Adventurer’s Guild has agreed to your proposal,” he said. “But there are conditions.”
Jannet’s tongue flicked out, tasting the air for any sign of deceit. He found none. “Explain.”
Clyde gestured for him to follow, leading them a short distance away from the road. Once satisfied that they were out of earshot, he continued. “The guild has agreed to grant you provisional membership—a trial period, if you will. But it’s not without restrictions.”
Jannet’s golden eyes remained fixed on Clyde, unblinking as he listened.
“First,” Clyde said, “you’ll be held to a one-strike policy instead of the usual three. Any breach of guild rules, no matter how small, will result in immediate expulsion—and likely worse.”
Jannet inclined his head slightly. “Reasonable.”
“Second,” Clyde continued, “you’ll only be allowed to travel within human settlements as part of a pre-arranged guild party. At no point are you to be left unsupervised within a city or town.”
“And the third?”
Clyde’s expression hardened. “Any crime—whether intentional or accidental—will result in immediate execution. No trial, no appeals. The guild is taking a massive risk by even considering your membership, and they’re not inclined to show leniency.”
Jannet was silent for a moment, his mind turning over the implications. He understood the weight of these conditions, the precarious balance he would need to maintain to navigate human society. But in the grand scheme of things, it was a small price to pay.
“I accept,” he said finally, his voice steady.
Clyde let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Good,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’d offer to shake on it, but I don’t think that translates well here.”
Jannet tilted his head, a faint glint of amusement in his golden eyes
Clyde let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Good,” he said, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’d offer to shake on it, but I doubt that translates well here.”
Jannet allowed himself a faint huff of amusement, the sound more growl than laugh. “Indeed.”
Clyde stepped aside, motioning for the young adventurers to come forward. They did so hesitantly, their nervous energy palpable as they stood before the massive lizard.
“Allow me to introduce your guild-sponsored escorts,” Clyde said, his tone light but pointed. “They will be responsible for ensuring you adhere to the guild’s rules and for assisting you in your endeavors.”
The same group from before looked up at Jannet, their expressions ranging from awe to trepidation. Jannet lowered his head slightly, his golden eyes meeting theirs.
“It seems,” he said, his voice low but firm, “that we have much to learn from one another.”
The Sovereign Komodo Dragon remained still, his golden eyes fixed on the adventurers as if sizing them up. His massive frame cast an imposing shadow over the grass, but his lowered head and steady gaze carried no malice—only a sense of quiet curiosity.
“Well then,” Clyde began, his voice carrying an air of practiced ease, “it’s time for proper introductions. Let’s put names to faces and roles to skills.”
The adventurers exchanged nervous glances before the burly young fighter stepped forward. He held his greatsword with practiced ease, the polished blade catching the sunlight. His broad shoulders and confident stance marked him as the team’s de facto frontliner.
Stolen novel; please report.
“I’m Gerrin,” he said, his voice steady but laced with caution. “Fighter. I keep things from smashing the rest of us.” He gestured to his sword, then to the others, as if to underline the point.
The mage stepped forward next, her delicate fingers wrapped tightly around the crackling staff. Her short-cropped hair framed a face that looked younger than her calm demeanor suggested. “Fialla,” she said curtly. “Mage. Spells, fire, ice, lightning—whatever it takes to get the job done.” Her tone carried a hint of defiance, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease as she looked up at Jannet.
The ranger was next, their movements fluid and almost feline as they adjusted the bow slung across their back. “I’m Calis,” they said simply, their voice soft but firm. “Ranger. I handle ranged attacks and scouting.” Their sharp, green eyes lingered on Jannet for a moment, studying him with a mixture of wariness and intrigue.
The healer stepped forward last. She was the smallest of the group, her pristine robes slightly out of place among the rugged adventurers. Yet, there was a quiet strength in her bearing, a steadiness that belied her diminutive frame. “My name’s Leth,” she said, her voice gentle but clear. “I’m the team’s healer. It’s my job to make sure no one stays hurt for long.”
That left the second fighter, the smaller male of the group but no less confident as he strode forward, twin daggers gleaming at his hips. “And I’m Toren,” he said with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Close combat specialist. If it’s small and fast, I cut it down.”
Clyde nodded approvingly, his sharp eyes flicking between the adventurers and Jannet. “There you have it,” he said. “This is your team, Sovereign. They’ll be your guides, your companions, and, more importantly, your bridge to human society.”
Jannet inclined his head, his massive frame shifting slightly as he adjusted to the group’s scrutiny. “I am the Sovereign of Newscar,” he said, his voice low but resonant. “I will do my best to respect your ways and your guidance.”
The adventurers seemed to relax slightly at his tone, though their nervousness lingered. Clyde, ever the mediator, decided it was time to lighten the mood.
“Now, a bit of formality,” he said, producing a polished silver badge from his satchel. The badge was larger than the typical ones handed to adventurers, clearly crafted for Jannet’s immense size. Its surface gleamed in the sunlight, the emblem of the Adventurer’s Guild etched in intricate detail. “This is your identification as a trial member of the guild. It’s important for both recognition and accountability.”
Clyde paused, glancing at the group. “Someone will need to affix this to our Sovereign here. Volunteers?”
The adventurers hesitated, their eyes darting between the badge and Jannet. The Komodo dragon lowered his head slightly, his golden eyes watching them with what could almost be described as patience.
Leth stepped forward, her small hands steady despite the slight tremor in her voice. “I’ll do it,” she said. The group exchanged glances, but no one objected.
She approached Jannet slowly, the badge clasped tightly in her hands. Standing before his massive frame, she hesitated for only a moment before reaching up and attaching the badge to a strap Clyde had provided. The silver badge hung prominently against Jannet’s dark scales, catching the light as Leth stepped back, her face a mix of relief and pride.
“Well done,” Clyde said with a nod, his tone warm. He reached into his satchel again, producing a set of smaller silver badges. “And for the rest of you, a reward for your willingness to take on this responsibility. Congratulations—you’re now officially silver-ranked adventurers.”
The group’s reaction was immediate. Fialla’s eyes widened in surprise, Toren let out a low whistle, and even Gerrin couldn’t hide the grin spreading across his face. Calis and Leth exchanged excited glances, the tension of the moment giving way to genuine elation.
Jannet observed the shift in their demeanor with quiet satisfaction. The humans’ joy was infectious, and though he did not fully grasp the weight of their promotion, he was pleased to see them so invested in their roles. This was their world, and he was beginning to understand its nuances, piece by piece.
“Alright, then,” Clyde said, his tone turning brisk. “Let’s get moving. Sovereign, you’ll accompany the group to the city gates. Remember—stick with them at all times. Humans are still going to be wary of you, and for good reason. This trial is as much about proving their trust in you as it is about proving your trustworthiness.”
Jannet nodded, his massive tail flicking once in acknowledgment. “Understood.”
The group set off toward the city, the adventurers chatting animatedly about their new ranks and the opportunities they would bring. Jannet followed behind, his powerful strides easily keeping pace. As they approached the gates, the mood shifted slightly, the bustling activity of Valos coming into view.
For the first time, Jannet would step inside a human city—not as a conqueror or a predator, but as something else entirely.
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Clyde Vistone strode toward the gates of Valos with a purpose that belied the nerves bubbling just beneath his polished facade. His mind buzzed with the implications of what he’d just accomplished. He had done it. Against all odds and amidst the layered bureaucracies of the Adventurer’s Guild, he had pushed his proposal through. The Sovereign Komodo Dragon—this massive, speaking enigma—was officially a trial member of the guild. Sure the council didnt know that he was a komodo dragon. Clyde had left the words at the creature, and yet somehow it worked.
The council had been more malleable than he’d expected, which was either a stroke of luck or an ominous sign. Clyde wasn’t sure which yet, but for now, the pieces were falling into place. The kingdom needed strength now more than ever. The shifting tides of rumors about border unrest, sightings of monsters growing bolder, and whispers of turmoil in the southern reaches—all of it pointed to a grim future. The guild wasn’t ready. It needed assets, and it needed them quickly.
The Sovereign was an unprecedented asset. And Clyde? Clyde was the man who’d brought him in. He glanced over his shoulder, where The Sovereign moved silently behind the adventurer group assigned as his escorts. The massive lizard’s gait was steady and deliberate, his golden eyes sweeping across the city walls ahead. This creature was an apex predator in every sense, yet he carried himself with an unsettling calm—a calculated restraint that set Clyde’s teeth on edge even as it reassured him. This creature could very well be the ticket to Clyde’s return to prominence within the guild, but only if he played his cards right.
Clyde’s lips quirked into a smile as he turned his attention back to the guards stationed at the gates. He raised a hand in a friendly wave, calling out their names as he approached. “Marcus! Iain! Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
The two guards exchanged wary glances before returning the greeting. Marcus, the taller of the two, adjusted his helmet and squinted past Clyde toward the group approaching behind him. His eyes widened slightly as he spotted Jannet, his hand reflexively tightening on the haft of his spear.
“Clyde,” Marcus began, his tone cautious, “what... exactly is that?”
“That,” Clyde said smoothly, gesturing toward Jannet with a sweep of his arm, “is our newest guild trial member. Meet the Sovereign of Newscar.”
The guards stared at him as though he’d just suggested letting a wyvern perch atop the city walls. Marcus’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed, “You can’t be serious.”
“I am entirely serious,” Clyde said, his tone affable but firm. “The Adventurer’s Guild has approved it. The Sovereign here has agreed to our rules and will be working under my supervision. He’s here to help, not harm.”
Marcus and Iain exchanged another look, their expressions skeptical. Behind Clyde, Jannet stood motionless, his massive form casting a long shadow over the group. The adventurers flanking him shifted nervously, clearly feeling the weight of the guards’ scrutiny as well.
Clyde stepped closer to Marcus, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Look, I get it. This is... unusual. But the guild knows what it’s doing. This guy’s strength will be a boon for Valos, especially with everything going on lately. Just give him a chance, yeah?”
The guard hesitated, then sighed heavily. “You’re the branch leader, Clyde. If you say it’s cleared, I won’t argue. But you’d better keep an eye on that thing. One wrong move, and the entire city will lose its mind.”
“Of course,” Clyde said, clapping Marcus on the shoulder with a practiced grin. “You’ve got my word.”
With a reluctant nod, Marcus signaled for the gates to be opened. The heavy wooden doors creaked as they swung inward, revealing the bustling streets of Valos beyond. Clyde turned back to the group, his smile still firmly in place.
“Well, then,” he said, gesturing grandly toward the city. “Welcome to Valos, Sovereign.”
Jannet inclined his massive head slightly, his golden eyes flicking toward the guards before returning to Clyde. “Thank you,” he said simply, his voice low and resonant.
The adventurers hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, their silver badges gleaming faintly in the sunlight. Jannet followed, his bulk moving with a surprising grace that belied his size. Clyde fell into step beside him, the adventurers trailing just behind as they entered the city.
The streets of Valos were alive with activity—merchants hawking their wares, children darting between carts, and townsfolk bustling about their daily routines. Conversations hummed through the air, a backdrop of ordinary life that began to falter as heads turned toward the new arrivals.
Whispers spread like wildfire as people caught sight of Jannet. Mothers pulled their children close, merchants paused mid-haggle, and even the occasional soldier froze in place. Eyes widened, and voices rose in hurried murmurs, the presence of the massive lizard causing ripples of unease to roll through the crowd.
Clyde kept his stride measured, his expression carefully composed. This was expected—anticipated, even. Valos was a small city, and its residents were unaccustomed to the unusual. Jannet’s arrival would be the talk of the town within minutes, but that was part of Clyde’s plan. If handled correctly, this moment could cement his reputation as the man who brought strength and stability to the region in uncertain times.
“Keep moving,” Clyde murmured to the adventurers, his tone low but firm. “Don’t stop. Let them see us as a united group.”
The adventurers obeyed, their nervous energy palpable but their steps steady. Jannet remained silent, his golden eyes sweeping across the crowd with an inscrutable gaze. He seemed unfazed by the attention, his massive frame towering above the humans around him.
As they neared the guildhall, Clyde allowed himself a small smile. This was only the beginning. He had maneuvered himself into a position of control—over the adventurers, over the lizard, and potentially over the entire guild in this region. The Sovereign might be the centerpiece of his plan, but it was Clyde who held the reins. All he had to do was keep the pieces moving in his favor.
And Clyde Vistone was very, very good at moving pieces.