Caste opened his leather roll and perused the tools within. He glanced at the nature of his imminent work and chose the largest, sharpest blade and a pair of pliers. He stood up, looked at the body of the ogre lying prostrate, taking up a sizeable portion of the middle of the village…and shuddered.

Thankfully, owing to its death throws, one of the ogre’s feet was not facing down so Caste was able to reach the toes that smelt of mould, mildew and decay. He drew a leather mask out of his apron and donned a pair of gloves before picking up his tools and eyeing off the smallest toenail which was the size of one of his hands. He gripped the nail with his pliers and, using the blade, began to remove it from the ogre’s foot. Several times he retched to the side, delaying the procedure but eventually the nail came loose with a little blood for good measure. Caste retreated to his tool roll where a plain wooden box awaited him. He held the nail away from himself as he opened the box and, from the concealed flap in the lid, drew a piece of parchment with a list of monsters written on it with a circle beside each name.

Caste held both the nail, clutched in pliers and the list as far away from himself as possible as he dabbed the bloody corner of the nail onto the parchment within the circle against the word ‘ogre’. The dark green blood stained the light colour of the parchment before reacting to the ink within the weave and becoming blue. He put the nail in the box and tucked the parchment into its flap before closing the lid and letting out the breath he was holding.

Immediately he knew he was being watched and looked at Judd who was beaming at him as one of the villagers, a woman with silvery grey dreadlocks, was dressing a cut on his arm.

“Yes?” Caste asked tersely.

“Oh I was just thinking,” Judd remarked, “that’s one down, nine to go.”

Caste rolled his eyes and gathered his belongings. “Well, after slaying an ogre, if you can call falling on your sword, ‘slaying’, I suppose you can’t be talked out of this ridiculous quest?”

“Nope.”

Caste huffed. “What about the witch, Dragoslava? You stormed off into the forest to look for her after fleeing in, let’s face it, unforgettable terror…are you going to attempt to face her again?” Judd glanced at Aalis who raised her eyebrows. “And before you leap in without looking again, may I point out that the witch probably took offense to your trespass and sent the ogre to punish the village?” Caste put his hands on his narrow hips. “What? Why are you smiling?”

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Judd tried, in vain, to wipe the grin off his face. “Sorry, perhaps I should introduce you to the young woman who didn’t hide behind a cart, who put herself between the ogre and some children, helped pull me free and is currently tending my wounds,” he cleared his throat, “Aalis, this is Caste, the cleric assigned to me. Caste, this is Aalis,” Caste’s lip was curled in disdain as he looked at Judd, “also known as Dragoslava.”

He possibly enjoyed the change in Caste’s expression from incredulous to aghast a little too much. Caste gaped and stammered.

“She…she…she…”

“Is the witch.” Aalis curtseyed. “How do you do?”

“I…I…I…I need to pack.” Caste turned and fled.

Judd chuckled then hissed.

“Sorry.” Aalis said as she wrapped a clean strip of fabric around his arm.

“It’s fine, really.” Judd insisted then gazed at the body of the ogre. “You know…it never occurred to me…what’ll happen to the corpse?”

“It will have to be cut up then burned on a bonfire away from the village.” Aalis explained.

“Ugh…” Judd swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. “They tell you how to kill the monsters in basic training but they never tell you how to dispose of the body. I guess part of me hoped they would just disappear into sparkles of light…or clouds of smoke.”

Aalis laughed softly as she finished tying the bandage. “You did a good thing, Judd LaMogre,” she said warmly, “I know Klin would happily put up with an ogre burning bonfire over the loss of any of his people.” Judd saw her gaze and blushed, rubbing the back of his neck before gasping and clutching at his chest. “Do you have cracked ribs?”

“Just scratched.” Judd insisted then batted her hands away. “I’m going to have to get used to battle wounds if I’m going to continue to try to become a knight.”

Aalis knelt in front of him, her eyes blue with concern. “Are you going to continue on this quest?”

“Well…yeah, I am.” Judd nodded. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I want to be an old man one day and look back at my life without regret. It’d be so easy to settle for something safe…but I’d hate every day of it.”

She stood up and brushed her skirts free of dirt. “Then I wish you well, Judd LaMogre. The world of Terra could do with more knights like you.”

Judd gazed up at her. “You know,” he said, standing and unrolling his shirt sleeve, sliding the toggle into the loop at the cuff to keep it from flapping open, “you could come with me.” Aalis glanced at him, her eyes pale with surprise. “I mean…you’re a healer and you’re a brilliant cook…”

“Judd…”

“And before you say no,” Judd interrupted her, “consider that I’m not the only young, foolish, middle class, dreams of being a knight, adventurer that is going to come this way.” Aalis paused. “Sooner or later, someone won’t be taken in by your forest of horrors…and kill you before they got to know you.”

Aalis licked her lips. “Judd…it is a very intriguing offer…but I am not sure it is wise.”

“I think it’s a heck of a lot wiser than almost everything I’ve done today.” Judd pointed out and she laughed.

“Perhaps…” She tucked her arms around herself. “You are awfully trusting, given that I am a witch…”

“I don’t believe you’re a witch for one moment.” Judd retorted. Aalis looked away, her fingers wringing together. “Klin insists on us staying the night but we’ll be heading out in the morning…just think about it?”