Theria pulled and loosened the bowstring in one smooth motion. The blunt trial arrow sunk into the chest of the hay-man that had been put up as target practice. “It’s better, but it ain’t much better,” she said.

  “Better is what we need,” Oras said and looked at the arm’s dealer. “Although, as you can see, we are not in dire need of the upgrade.”

  “You can try to haggle, but it won’t get you far,” the man answered immediately. He was a gruff veteran. Kumsyurt, like all states, had its occasional altercations with its neighbours or, worse, the roaming monsters of the countryside. Generations of warriors from the Empire of Strings had died, but it spoke to how dangerous Megamoia was that the empire had chosen to dissolve. Even the last custodians left by the Precursors had to admit defeat against the world.

  Here in the south of the world, the Midyurters had been protecting themselves for a long time, be it by the way of the adventurer or the soldier. Oras had never even seen a String patrol. Neither had his father. The Stringless movement had already been dominant by the time his grandfather was an adult. His father’s second wife, a Stringless as customs suggested, had taught Oras plenty about these things.

  It was more likely that the merchant before him had been scarred by monster attacks. Warfare between states at least had a degree of civility. Fighting savage goblins was a struggle against getting eaten.

  “What if I tell ya a fantastic joke?” Theria asked.

  “Don’t,” Oras groaned, knowing where this was going.

  “...Must be a good one if he hates it,” the arm’s dealer said.

  Theria threw her arm over her future husband’s shoulder. Still holding the bow, she pointed at his face. “His full name is Drakis Oras.”

  “Drakis… Oras…?” the arm’s dealer repeated slowly. “Like… Drakisaurus?”

  “Yes!”

  The old man guffawed. It did not stop there, growing instead into even louder laughter. While the merchant slapped his knee, Oras gave his woman a long and dry stare.

  “Why are you the way that you are?” he wanted to know.

  “‘Cause ya like sunflowers, not roses, bro,” she responded with a broad grin.

  “Eh… ehehe… ehem.” The arm’s dealer regained control over his vocal cords. “That is a funny name.”

  “Thank you. I don’t use it,” Oras responded.

  “Your parents must be wonderful people.”

  “I tolerate them.”

  The merchant snorted again, then cleared his throat. “Alright, much as I loved that, I still can’t give you a discount.”

  “Wa- ya got the deepest, darkest secret of the universe!”

  “Can you at least buy the old bow?” Oras pleaded. It was just something her father had thrown at her so that Theria would have something. It had about as much sentimental value as his current set of pants.

  The arm’s dealer picked the used weapon off the table and gave it a few turns. “Mhm… yeah, could probably use this… I’d give you 3 gold for it. 30 gold for the new bow and the weapon you wanted - so you’d owe me 27 total.”

  Oras repressed a groan. Parting with his possessions, money most of all, was always something he loathed. Whether that was an emergent property of his draconic potential or just his own character, he could not say. ‘Then again, what would the difference be between my nature and my nature?’

  Of the 50 gold that he had saved up over the years, more than half disappeared in a single transaction. In return, Theria got to keep the bow and he got to pick up his weapon of choice.

  The two pieces of metal weighed nice and heavy in his hands. They were sturdy constructions with four rings for his fingers and a brace that his fist could clench around. Knuckle dusters may not have been the traditional armament for an adventurer, but Oras considered them perfect for him. A dragon ought to fight with his claws. It was best to learn ahead of time.

  Plus, they were relatively easy to transport, which was nice.

  “You’re going to be looking for some armour as well?” the arms dealer asked.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Yes. Know any good places?”

  “There’s a leatherworker three shops over who is trying to get rid of some old inventory. Should be easier to haggle a discount out of him.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Drakisaurus.”

  “...I am never coming back here.” Oras turned to the exit and marched out, closely followed by a giggling tomboy. As punishment for her insolence, he treated himself to a smacking of her rear. Theria yelped in surprise, then turned her green eyes his way. She was equal parts flustered and pouty. “You’re being a bad girl.”

  “Wha- Oy, those are evil words.”

  “They are true words.”

  “I got us a delayed discount - what’s worth more to ya, your dignity or your gold?”

  “I don’t want to part with either.” His hand had stayed on her butt and she made no gesture to pull away. Squeezing that shapely behind was his given right as her man. ‘I suppose teasing me is hers.’

  Buying armour went much smoother. They walked in, said what they wanted and how much they were willing to pay, and not 10 minutes later they were out with some rudimentary protective gear. Vambraces, shoulder pads and some reinforced straps that could be used to cover parts of the chest. It was called the adventurer’s first armour for a reason - it was cheap. It didn’t do the job of keeping someone alive perfectly well, but it offered enough protection to drastically raise survival chances. All of that while not requiring extensive training, as plate armour did.

  They were down to 6 gold after.

  They were also ready to march towards their task.

  “First mission as adventurers, last mission as childhood friends,” Oras said.

  “Can’t believe you’re marrying a tomboy.”

  “She is rather lovely, when she behaves.”

  “Oh, shut it…” Theria blushed and averted her gaze - all while putting her head on his shoulder.

  The first step in taking care of this bandit was to verify his location. Oras had gathered rumours of his activity alongside everything else, so he hadn’t asked any deep questions. He did recall well enough where he had heard about it though and he was fairly confident that the person would still be there.

  He and Theria moved to Kumse’s eastern gate. Of the roads that connected the city to the peninsula, the eastern one was arguably the least important. It led up to Altune, the capital of Akayan, which was easier reached via a boat trip.

  Banditry there was smart on a small scale. No one important or rich would use that road, which also meant that no one that had the means to fight back would use it. During the 7 days festival of the Supernatural Elephant’s stay in Kumse, the guards that would regularly patrol that path were reduced in number. Assuring the city remained orderly was just more important than a bandit that occupied a bridge on a road that carried no vital commerce.

  Just because they couldn’t help didn’t mean the guards did not want to.

  “Oh, hey, it’s you two again,” one of the guards by the gate greeted them. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, the perfect build for someone supposed to keep people from even considering stirring things up. Of the armour that the guards were given, he only wore the helmet. Plate was only put on if battle was imminent. Everything else, in this summer heat, would have been asking for the guards to drop due to heatstroke. “How did it go?”

  “I have been tasked to deal with the bandit you told me about,” Oras revealed.

  “That’s a good Showing of Worth, keep the security of the realm and you can show your lady you’re made from stern stuff.”

  Oras looked around, confusion on his face. “Where do you see a lady?”

  “Oh, ha-ha.” Arms crossed, Theria pushed out the faked laughter. “We’ve wanted to ask if you had a bit more details?”

  “Nothing concrete. Can give ya what me and the boys think is happening though.” The guard drifted into the same rural accent as Theria. “Any reason we’re speaking in Common, by the way?”

  “Practice,” Oras answered simply.

  Common was the language of the Precursors. By some arcane machination, everyone with the necessary degree of sapience spoke it. That it was a spell that had been cast on the world was clear because those that came from other planes were exempt from this automatic knowledge and had to learn it the old-fashioned way.

  Few nations in the world used Common as their only language. Most either had a local or overarching language of the cultural area. Kumsyurters spoke Midyurti and Common, the former being more often used in the rural areas. Although Common was instinctively known by everyone, being fluent in it still required regular use of it.

  “Fair ‘nuff. Anyway, here’s what we think - do you have a map?”

  “I do. It’s not very detailed though.” Pulling it out, Oras showed it to the guard.

  “...Yeah, that is low detail, but it’ll do.” The guard pointed at a spot of the road about a third towards Devri. “Plenty of ups and downs in the rainforest, particularly in this part. If the bandit just stayed at one bridge, we’d have it figured out by now which one. That we’ve gotten some conflicting accounts made us believe he has a bit of a zone. He makes his camp, then goes to one bridge on one day, squats it out there, then goes to another bridge the next day. That way, he’s not so easily found.”

  “How lucrative can that approach be?” Oras wondered.

  “Not very, that’s why we’re pretty sure it's just one. Any bigger operation wouldn’t be sustainable on that road.”

  “Good to have that assurance.”

  “I think more targets would be fun,” Theria purred. “The fight is the best part.”

  “You ought to remember we’re mortal too. If we’re outnumbered, that will be a problem that we might not be able to run away from this time.” Gently, the Dragonblooded man brushed a thumb over the scar over Theria’s eyes. “I’ve seen you hurt one too many times.”

  “Oras…” she whispered lovingly. “We’re not that weak anymore. You got like two heads taller.”

  “And you got twice as beautiful, so I need to protect you twice as much.”

  “Dude…,” Theria blushed fiercely beneath that deep tan of hers.

  “EHEM!” The guard cleared his throat. “If you two want to officiate that wedding before the end of the week, I recommend you get going. It’s like 30 kilometres out.”

  At a good pace, they could get that done in two days. Two days there, finding the bandit, two days back - six days was a reasonable estimate to get this done, four if they got lucky.

  “We’ll keep the flirting for the road then,” Oras stated.