Just past the wall was a long row of stables, a young boy waiting to take whatever mounts the travelers might have had and put them in a comfortable temporary stay. For a fee, of course.

As Silas walked up to him, Sal close behind, the boy's eyes widened. "That's a huge aminal, sir! D'ye want me to put him away?"

Smiling slightly, Silas told him, "It's lady, young'un. I take it you've never seen a varamil?"

He shook his head wide-eyed, and Silas patted his shoulder. "Just lead her in by the base of the horn. And don't squeeze too hard, she doesn't like it."

Leaving the admittedly nervous-looking stable boy with Sal, Silas made his way back over to Jonas, who was loitering around the entrance with what could only be described as a mischievous grin on his face. Silas' eyes narrowed. "What're you planning?"

Jonas looked up at him as innocently as a wolf with a lamb in its mouth. "I ain't got the slightest idea what yer talkin' about, Silas. I'm on my best behavior right now."

Unconvinced, Silas leaned close to whisper in his ear, gripping his shoulder. "Look, Jonas, we don't want to do anything that might risk Sam's safety, all right? I get that ya like playing pranks on the guards and whatnot, but I'd rather not wage war with the whole town if we can avoid it."

Jonas had a serious expression now, and he nodded, gently patting Sam's coiled form in the knapsack. "I get it, Silas, but just look at these folks. It's trouble waitin' ta happen."

As Jonas gestured at the area in front of them, Silas was forced to agree that yes, the sleepy town of Troutbeck was a keg of gunpowder with a lit fuse when it came to practical jokes. The albeit well-built structures lining the main road leaned over the cobbles slightly, casting a distinct shadow from the midmorning sun. Wandering through the streets with both a distinct sense of purpose and a paradoxically heavy aura of wanting to take a nap were the townsfolk. Most of them weren't dressed fancily, with the exception of the odd politician or banker, and the overall sensation of the town was just being there. Simply existing, day in, day out, and going nowhere at the speed of snails.

Silas nodded slowly. "All right, you've got a point. But still, don't do anything stupid, all right?"

Jonas' face split in a wide smirk. "Stupid? When have I ever done something stupid?"

Staring at him levelly, Silas said skeptically, "Well I do recall a certain smug orc prince-"

Jonas leaned in close, shushing him. "Okay, I see your point. No need to go spouting that story all over town, I'll stay out of trouble. So long as we don't meet anyone suspicious, I'll keep a low profile."

Silas patted him on the shoulder. "Thought you'd say that. Let's get on to the guildhall and get Sam 'is registration. How's that sound, bud?" He mentioned the last part while carefully holding the knapsack open, and Sam made a near-silent mewl of appreciation.

Turning, Silas pointed a crooked finger at the opposite side of the fountain in the center of the square. Jonas nodded wordlessly, and they walked on towards the impressive building.

Built almost entirely from oak beams, the two-story guildhall featured four pillars supporting the overhang above the stairs, and a slow stream of activity continually went in and out of the two double-door entrances. It was probably the second most expensive building in town, next to the town hall, and was by far the most important.

A small town like Troutbeck was hardly privy to professional guards, as Silas and Jonas had noted just outside, so it needed protection from a different source. Warriors, adventurers, and mercenaries the world over used guildhalls to post and accept bounties, a small portion of which went to the town itself. It was both an excellent source of income and a good way to get things done - while mercenaries would be the type to hunt down bandits or protect convoys for a weekly fee, there was practically nothing that a seasoned adventurer would turn down. Whether it was giving a fresh layer of paint to a neglected inn or helping a farmer out with his crops, adventurers would do just about anything if the price was right. And if it was high enough, the price was always right.

Here, though, all Silas and Jonas were here for was a registration of a pet. Ideally, they would mark him down as a temporary resident of their house, but Silas had a feeling they wouldn't give a dragon the same rights as a person. A pet registry, on the other hand, extended to any non-speaking species on the planet. There was supposedly a man forever ago who had adopted a mimic, and those were far more dangerous than baby dragons.

Pushing through the heavy wooden doors, the two-man group was greeted with the scent of spilled liquor, sweaty bodies, and burned food. The long tables set out in front of them were crowded with people of every species and race, arguing and shouting at each other. Several thick tree trunks supported the ceiling, lanterns hooked onto the sides without any visible pattern, and trophies of long-done hunts hung from the walls. The horns of one of the majestic elk, up near the ceiling, had a pair of filthy shorts hanging dangerously from them.

In the middle row, a half-ogre bodily picked up a green-skinned goblin and hurled him at Silas and Jonas. They stood aside and opened the doors politely, and the unfortunate goblin sailed through. The half-ogre laughed raucously. "Meny thenks, humensh!"

Silas tipped his hat towards him politely, and they walked carefully through the chaos towards the harried-looking secretary manning the food-spattered desk. She was pretty, with braided blond hair and a pair of pointed ears leaning backward from the side of her head and a neat three-piece suit, a matching hat perched on top of her head.

Jonas leaned on the counter, smiling easily. "Hello there, hun. We're here to register a pet."

She looked around briefly, then leaned forward. "Keep it quiet, please. The last time someone tried to register their cat an orc ate it before they got the paperwork done."

Silas nodded thoughtfully. "We'll keep that in mind. For now, we're just stopping by and gettin' it done, and then we'll be out of yer hair."

The secretary nodded worriedly, pulling a clipboard out from underneath the wooden desk lining the backside of the room. "Okay, but let's make it quick. Name and species?"

Jonas carefully slid five thick gold coins over the desk, keeping one hand over them to keep them out of sight from the other occupants of the guildhall. "His name's Sam, but let's keep the species part of that between us, shall we? Just mark 'im down as 'lizard'."

The secretary's eyes grew round as she saw the pieces, and she surreptitiously pulled them over the desk. "Can I get a name for the owner?" 

Jonas nodded knowingly, reaching over the counter. "How about I just fill the rest of that out for you?" She smiled prettily, handing him the clipboard, and he started scratching away at it with the supplied quill, humming quietly as he did.

Silas leaned casually against the back wall, keeping an eye on the ensuing chaos. His eyes narrowed slightly as a hooded figure broke away from the action, moving directly towards them. He took a step forward, neither threatening nor friendly as he did, and held out a hand. "Now hang on just a-" 

The figure broke into a full sprint, one hand reaching out in an attempt to catch Silas in the throat, and Silas stepped forward to meet it. Putting one foot forward, he grabbed the attacker's wrist and sidestepped neatly. Allowing the figure's clawed hand to shoot past his shoulder, he gripped tighter and slammed his free hand just next to the person's shoulder, tugging on the figure's wrist as he did. There was an ugly snap as he dislocated the offender's arm from its socket, but he wasn't done yet. Hooking his leg around the back of the attacker's knee, he pulled sharply and used the hand already at the enemy's shoulder to slam them into the ground.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The hood fell back, and Silas blinked in surprise. It was a female lizardkin, gasping hoarsely in pain and breathing hard. She had a narrow snout, two slits serving as nostrils above her wide mouth. Her scales were colored a rich sea green with a faint blue sheen, creeping up past her yellow eyes, squinted in fury. Now that he got a good look at her, he could see the heavy tail protruding from the back of her cloak, sweeping from side to side in alarm.

Releasing her arm and allowing it to flop uselessly to the ground, Silas leaned down. "Now why in the world would you go and do a thing like that?"

Patting helplessly at his arm, she whispered, "Tr...trafficker."

He raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Sucking in a deep breath, she shouted, "TRAFFICKER!!!"

Faster than lightning, Jonas spun around and saw the situation. Eyes widening, he bellowed to the whole guildhall, "NEXT ROUND'S ON ME!!!" Turning back around to the secretary, he slapped another ten gold coins on the counter. "D'you have a backroom we can use? Somewhere quiet. And preferably soundproof."

She nodded with a practiced attitude of business and slid the access trapdoor up, jerking a thumb at the solid wooden door behind her. As the unruly mob of adventurers cheered, raising their half-empty glasses, Silas pulled the lizardkin to her feet. Twisting her good arm around her back, he hurriedly directed her towards the backroom. Pulling the door open, Jonas gestured towards it, and all three of them cannoned through, Jonas slamming the door shut as she went past him. The whole process couldn't have taken more than five seconds. 

The backroom was badly lit, a flickering lantern seated on spare barrels of liquor providing the only source of light. There wasn't much in the way of furniture - just two chairs and a table with an unfinished card game. Thankfully, there wasn't anybody inside to bother them, and Silas shoved the lizardkin forward roughly. She tripped on the hem of her cloak and rolled over, biting down a shriek of pain as most of her weight slammed on her arm. 

Jonas carefully set the knapsack down, quietly asking Sam, "You all right in there?" Tightly coiled up at the bottom of the bag and eyes wider than quarters, Sam nodded rapidly, and Jonas smiled faintly. "Good. We'll take care o' this real quick and then we'll be on our way."

Silas folded his arms as the lizardkin scooted to the back of the room, clutching at her dislocated arm. "Now why in tarnation are you callin' us traffickers?"

Grimacing, she angrily told them, "I'm a lizardkin. Do you seriously think I can't smell the scales in your bag?"

Jonas put a hand to the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "Oh, for cryin' out loud, I can't believe this."

Hissing loudly at him, she continued, "I've seen plenty of people like you. Cocky gold-digging poachers kidnapping rare species and selling them for a fortune. Do you have no shame? Do you sleep well at night? How can you live with yourselves knowing what you're doing?"

Silas tilted his head back, groaning loudly. "Of all the ill-timed accidents..."

Focusing his attention on the lizardkin, he tiredly walked forward and pulled her to her feet. She snarled as he did, her snout wrinkling up as her arm flopped painfully. "Get away from me, you filthy piece of-"

Ignoring her rant, Silas grabbed her arm at the base, seized her shoulder, and pushed hard. There was a loud pop, and her arm jerked back into place. She made a pained sound, almost like a yip, and then stared at her arm. Moving it in a circle experimentally, she glared up at Silas. Before she could make a move, Silas told her levelly, "You already tried. Are ye sure ye want a repeat?"

Her eyes narrowed in a strange mix of confusion and anger. "What's going on?"

Jonas glanced at Silas, and he nodded agreeably. Gently grabbing the knapsack, he tilted it over, and the flap fell open. Tentatively, Sam poked his head through, and the lizardkin's mouth fell open. "Is that a - that's a-" She stared at both of them in blatant shock. "How did you find a dragon?"

Silas shook his head slowly. "We didn't find him. He found us. This little fella's name is Sam, or so he tells us."

Her slitted pupils dilated. "He can talk? And you're still traff-"

Jonas cut her off. "We're not trafficking him, miss. We're tryin' ta take care of him for the time being."

She blinked. "You're... but that means that-" Cutting herself off, she stared at the ground, biting her lower lip hard enough to make tears appear in the corner of her eyes. Silas and Jonas allowed her to sit there for a moment, watching her silently as she curled her legs up, her tail pulling around her knees. 

Finally, she said in a low voice, "I almost blew it, didn't I?"

Silas shrugged. "Ye weren't too far off, not gonna lie. I thought we were gonna have the whole hall breathing down our necks for a minute there, but as it turns out, free drinks will buy silence faster than anythin' else in the world." 

She put her head on her knees morosely. "Yeah, but - you know how rare dragons are, right?" When Silas nodded, she continued, "There isn't a person out there who wouldn't take him apart and sell him for money. You - you guys are humans. Why didn't you?"

Jonas smiled sadly. "Miss, if there's one thing me and this ol' geezer have learned over the years, it's that there's a difference between bein' human and bein' humane. We like ta think we're the latter."

She sighed for a long time. "Sorry. I just - When I noticed the scent of scales in your bag, I just sort of... panicked." She laughed miserably. "I haven't had great experiences with traffickers. My, uh... my mom had to escape a scale farm. The stories she told me... I've never forgotten them."

Silas and Jonas exchanged a meaningful look, and then Silas leaned down, patting her shoulder sympathetically. "Ma'am, I can't say I understand how that feels. I've never known anyone personally who had somethin' like that happen to them. I don't blame ya for worryin' about our little partner here after an experience like that." 

Smiling half-heartedly, she rubbed at her eyes and stared at the back wall moodily. "I'm really sorry about this. If you don't mind my asking, though - would you be willing to part with him?" 

Both of Jonas' eyebrows shot up. "Would ye mind repeatin' that?"

She stared up at them desperately. "I mean, you guys don't know how to raise a dragon, right? Wouldn't he be better off with another reptile?" 

Silas frowned. "Why don't ye ask him? It's his decision."

Turning her attention to Sam, the lizardkin crouched down until she was on eye level with him. "Is that okay? I promise I'll take really good care of you - I've read all the legends about dragons! Wouldn't you rather live with me?"

Sam didn't hesitate. He shook his head confidently, and the young lizardkin's face crumpled. "But - why? I'm a-"

Silas put a hand in front of her, firmly stating, "That's his choice, ma'am. Whether or not ye agree with it, that's what he wants."

She stood up suddenly, her claws clenching into fists as tears rose in her eyes. "But he's a dragon! You can't possibly help him the same way I can!"

Jonas raised his hands soothingly. "Miss, you know better than either of us how important the decision to stay with someone is. I get the feelin' that you wouldn't want to take his choice away."

She paused, mouth hanging open, and then slowly closed it. Her shoulders slumped in disappointment, and she said quietly, "I... I understand. I hope you - I hope you have a nice life."

Silas gripped her shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. "I'm sorry ye didn't hear what ye wanted, but we appreciate the parting advice. D'you mind leavin' us with yer name?"

She wiped the tears away, extending a clawed hand out for a handshake. "My name's Quinn. I'm really sorry I almost-"

Jonas interrupted her with a cheerful grin, intercepting the handshake before Silas could accept it. "Don't worry about it. You apologized once and once is good enough, provided it's genuine. As for introductions, my name's Jonas and that ugly mug behind me's called Silas."

Silas glared at him irritably. "I can say my own name, thank ye very much." 

Quinn blinked hard. "Wait, Jonas and Silas? Like-"

Jonas cut her off abruptly. "Them's our names, miss Quinn. Don't read into it too much."

She closed her mouth slowly, looking equal parts confused and excited, and Sam looked between them curiously. With an awkward cough, Silas reached out and shook her hand for himself. "That said, I hope you have a good day. I'm sorry ta hear about yer mother. Is she doing better?"

Quinn nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, she's doing fine. It's been a really long time since that happened, but thanks for asking."

He smiled. "Glad to hear it. Not to cut the conversation short, but we've gotta get goin'. We've still got things ta do before we head home." 

She shook herself out of her trance, asking hopefully, "Is there any chance I could come to your house to visit Sam?" 

Jonas snorted. "If you can find it. We don't exactly live nearby."

Her face fell, crestfallen, and Silas laughed easily. "Don't worry about it, Quinn. If we need any advice, we'll come and find you."

She shook her head negatively. "That won't be possible. I'm only in Troutbeck to pick up some ingredients and then I'll be heading back to the Vulpeau Swamps in the morning." 

Jonas shrugged noncommittally. "Well, that's that. It was good to meet ya while you were here, even though the first impression wasn't exactly the greatest."

Silas winced at the reminder. "Yeah. My apologies fer knockin' yer arm outta place. It seemed necessary at the time."

Quinn waved it away. "Oh, don't worry about that. I totally get why it happened, and besides, you fixed it afterward."

She wiggled her arm in a tight circle to demonstrate, and both men smiled. "That's a good point," Silas said comfortably, "but you might want to work on your approach a bit next time."

Nodding, she headed for the door. Pausing briefly and giving Sam a longing look, she said finally, "I hope I see you again soon." 

Sam waved goodbye, and everyone in the room smiled in spite of themselves. Something about a cat-sized dragon waving goodbye to a lizardkin just seemed funny.