The Dragon Thief [I]

The First of Many Rude Awakenings [1]

Chapter One
The First of Many Rude Awakenings

Lannasia

Lannasia pushed off the skiff and fell in, her feet dragging through puddles of cold water. Rain was falling from the sea of dark clouds in the sky and was slowly pooling into the skiff. She pulled her hooded cloak over her head and took to a paddle, making her way downstream, a heavy satchel by her side.

By the time she made it into an opening of trees, hours had passed. Travelling from the Murswich Estate, avoiding the Crown Capital Fellenhall, and boating down the Saliscan river of the Yelger Green forest was no easy task—and yet, knowing this, Lannasia had still accepted this mission.

She had her own thoughts about working this job for the Northern High Lord but those she kept to herself. A wealthy man high in status, general to the King's army and a close adviser to the crown... High Lord Remus Kantillion was a man she'd rather have no association with whatsoever. His loyalty to the crown had become increasingly questionable since she'd had drunkenly overheard his conversation with High Lord Perrin during the guild procession, but it wasn't her place to get involved in the nation's political matters.

Following a weathered, torn map, Lannasia quietly trekked the Yelger Green forest. She coursed hunting trails and little streams. At some point in her journey, Lannasia heard thunder crack. Or maybe it was a falling tree. She conspicuously looked over her shoulder and waited for something to appear. It felt like more than just bad weather was following her, like she could feel the hot breath of something on her neck. She waited a moment, still and calm, but nothing appeared.

In the distance, a flicker of orange alerted her to the outskirts of a soldier's camp. It shone brightly against the dense, shrouding darkness that enveloped the woods. As she neared, sounds slowly crept to her ears: tankards clinking, men laughing, campfires spitting out hot embers into the moonless night. Small tents sized only to fit two persons at a time dotted the open clearing in the woods. A large pavilion tent stood erect at the back, thrice the size of any other, with a clear pathway through the encampment leading to its entrance.

"That must be the one," she shrugged, starting for it.

A drove of horses secured to a thick twisting root whinnied as Lannasia passed. She brushed one as she walked, hushing it. Keeping to the shadows and soft-footing to her best ability, she made her way to the pavilion, a steady hand on her heavy carry bag. She pushed past the cloth entryway and found herself inside a lush, carpeted tent that was deceivingly bigger on the inside.

One section was curtained off for the bed and personal belongings of the occupant. Opposite that was a large wooden table, scuffed heavily with time and usage. A map of Elchwe with its neighbouring country Harth stretched across it.

Lannasia continued to silently inspect the contents of the pavilion when a man marched through the entrance. His copper brown hair was soaked through to the scalp and the gleaming silver armour he wore bore streaks of running water. The man was tall and broad and twice her senior. He walked across the carpet and dumped a drenched cloak into a corner and unhooked the scabbard attached to his hip. When he turned around so that Lannasia saw the ragged look on his face, he came to an abrupt halt. His eyes sharpened.

"You better have a good reason for being here," the man spoke, his arm slowly reaching towards his weapon. Lannasia cocked her head.

"Are you Kantillion?" she asked. The man glowered.

"High Lord Kantillion. What business do you have with me?"

"Thieves' Guild business," Lannasia said, trailing the wooden table, her steps slow and calculative. "I believe you commissioned us?"