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But just as Drakas was about to turn around, he stopped himself. There was still so much that he did not know or understand, and as if sensing his hesitation, the dragon chuckled again. “Very well, ask me your questions, grelkanis.”

“That name, grelkanis, what does it mean?”

Golden eyes gleaming as Drakkarl brought his neck down to look at him, the dragon seemed to stare into Drakas' soul before he spoke again, “Yours is an ancient race, grelkanis. Before you were named ogrekans, you were grelkanis, The Chosen Ones of Light, and ruled the Empire of Krulmar. From the Mountains of Kalswan to the Isle of Red, and the Ocean of Claws, grelkanis controlled half the world.”

“What happened to them?”

“Why? What else, but war? War tore them apart. Then came the wars with the dark hearts, until all that remained of your people were crushed beneath the boots of slave soldiers, and the Mighty Empire of Krulmar was ended.”

Breath catching in his throat at the images that poured through his mind, he saw the Ancient City of Kanis, its distant white walls towering into the pale blue sky, fishing boats filling it's many rivers and streams, and ahead of him with light bouncing off its massive crystalline dome was a palatial palace that sat atop a hill, sparkling in the sunlight. And at that moment he wanted to rage against the world, wanted to rage against the dark ones that had taken this from him, when Drakkarl, his gaze suddenly dreamy, continued, “Now that was an Empire worth serving. Her golden fluted towers were the envy of the world, her bridges floated suspended in the air like lines of silver in the sky, and the world was filled with magic. The kind of magic that is breathed into everything. But alas for the Empire of Krulmar.”

His head still shaking in disbelief at the enormity of the loss, he wanted so desperately to believe that this day would return, when his people would be at peace once more. And as his mind began to clear, he asked, “why do you help us, dragon?”

His slitted nostrils flaring in amusement, the great red dragon's body began to glow angrily, his golden eyes darkening with rage. "Because we have a common enemy, grelkanis. The dark hearts have taken something that does not belong to them, and for now that makes us allies."

Still knowing the bloody history of Drakkarl the Scourge of the South, Drakas doubted very much that the dragon knew or understood the meaning of the term ally. More likely he meant to say he needed willing pawns for his battles, but again the dragon smirked as though reading his thoughts. “You will need my aid, grelkanis. You cannot do this alone.”

And in his mind, he heard the demon laugh.

For a long time after, Gregor just stood there, staring down at the golden walls of the city, contemplating his next move, when a familiar voice spoke up from behind him. “It is rare to see such beauty in the world, but the Lightbearer teaches us that while some beauty is deceitful, it does not mean we cannot appreciate it for what it is."

His head turned to the side to see Gauldryon’s long blonde locks flowing in the breeze, he wondered how the holy knight had managed to sneak up on him? But in all honesty he didn’t care. He had his own goals in mind and that was to reach Dragon’s Perch alive and to learn more about himself, which meant one of two roads. Bluff his way past the demavali (vancloren police force) guarding the gate, or find a weakness in those sheer gleaming walls that had no handholds or footholds to help him up.

His gaze set on the massive golden gate that arched up high into the sky, he knew from his own experience, that despite their isolationist policy, the Primes (Princes) of Vanclar did on occasion hire outside mercenary companies for their dirty work, and there had to be some way for them to bring fresh slaves inside since the Primes did not openly support slavery.

Either route would be extremely dangerous for him, but this was the kind of thing that Gregor lived for, or at least it used to be before his recent troubles, and resurfaced old nightmares.

Still, unable to hide his grin of excitement at seeing what was behind those walls, he kneed Biter in the flanks, and continued on down the snow laden trail, ignoring the knight who looked utterly bemused for some reason. While the rest of his companions, who had finally caught up to them, escorted that damned orc between them, his hands bound in front of him as he was dragged forward down the slope on foot. Daria’s familiar sour expression glowered at him as she shook her braids, whereas Tileya shot him another wink and smile.

Blasted fools that they were, they probably thought to give the orc over to the vancloren authorities instead, which in his opinion, was still a bad bloody idea. Chances were, one of these vampires was the one that put him up to it in the first place, but then what did he know of the real world? He thought with a sarcastic laugh.

Letting Biter do most of the work of finding his way down the snowy covered descent, they made steady progress downward, Gregor’s eyes glued to those imposing gates that seemed to go up into the clouds, when they came up short beside a small pond of frozen water. Biter for some reason choosing that moment to stop there and wicker nervously.

His eyes now on the still water, he wondered what it was that had spooked the horse, when he saw it. Two supple humanoid forms that moved quickly beneath the ice covered lake, their scaled blue skins pale as they looked up at Gregor with pitch black eyes, and waved at him, before they disappeared into the depths.

Not in the least bit threatened by Kelpies, the cowards of the sea, he couldn't help but remember a story that he had heard once, that kelpies kept their treasures at the bottom of the sea, and wondered if there was something down there?

But then he remembered the company he was keeping at the moment, and decided that he didn't need some light blasted lecture on the fundamentals of greed, and urged Biter to continue on down the road. The golden walls that were stretched up ahead of them were close enough that he could make out the roadway clogged with fellow sellswords waiting to get inside the city gates, while guards in immaculate gold and black uniforms carried strange weapons that looked more like long bronze pipes with black holes at the top, and a handles at the bottom.

Nudging Biter to move up alongside the waiting lines of mercenary warriors, he sat there behind a group of dwarves on foot in rusted armor and chainmail that were busy arguing with each other, when he heard a muffled cough behind him, and saw Gauldryon ride up once more. “I assume you have a plan that will get us inside?”

Still not really sure he liked the idea of travelling with this light blinded fool, he considered if there was some other way to get rid of the young lordling, before he replied sarcastically, “Of course I’ve got a plan. I ain’t some damn gob with his head stuck up his nethers.”

Which wasn’t exactly true, he did have a plan, it just wasn’t fully formed yet, but he wasn’t about to tell this bastard, especially with Daria watching him. Still, unable to help but overhear the conversation that was going on ahead of him, he let out a snicker of amusement as one of the dwarves called the other a puke drinking darkling lover. A pretty serious insult in most regions.

Gruff bearded faces turned to look up at him as they clutched steel battle axes in hand, one of them, a short stout bellied dwarf with a thick yellow moustache, and cold blue eyes, barked, “Ye find something funny, redling?” His thick accent was almost incomprehensible enough that Gregor could barely understand what he was saying, but he knew a threat when he heard one, and smiled back at him. “Yes.”

Which of course caused the dwarf to scowl angrily and turn to look at his companions. “Ye hear that lads, the boy is looking for trouble.”

Feeling Gauldryon’s arm on his left shoulder, he could feel the warrior knight’s voice become tight with concern as he whispered, “What are you doing?” Then in a much louder voice to the red-faced dwarves who clutched their battle axes in fists, “There is no need for trouble here, my friend, was simply joking.”

Gregor on the other hand however hadn’t killed anything in a while, and he was curious to see how these demavali guards would react. Perhaps if he showed them that he could fight, they would let him inside, or better yet with sellsword numbers culled down a bit they would see they had no choice but to hire him. He also supposed that he could try bluffing his way inside like he had initially planned, but the more he thought about it, the more he wasn’t sure if that would work. Most mercenaries would need to have contacts inside already, someone ready to vouch for them. This, after all, wasn’t the first time he had tried to get inside, but this would be his most persistent.

Greatsword unslung from his shoulder, he waved at the dwarves to come at him, when the demavli guards rushed forward, their polished steel helms, open in the front, and weapons pointed towards him. Still, having never seen anything like these flute like weapons, he glared at the golden eyed vampire with a beauty mark on his cheek, and felt something explode past him. The guard bellowing, “try me you, dogs! Get back in line.”

It was then that Gregor realized that he had been advancing upon the guard with a horrified Gauldryon looking on from behind him, before Gregor laughed suddenly, and walked away. So that’s what they did? Some type of projectile combust ball?

Gauldryon however wasn’t the least bit amused and gave Gregor a sour look as he rolled his eyes to the heavens. “Honestly, Gregor, I sometimes wonder if you’ve lost your wits. You could have been killed.”

Still watching the guards return to their positions along the road, he could see the dwarves grumbling among themselves about getting drunk, when Gregor finally replied, “I needed to see what they could do, in case we had to fight our way inside.”

But if Gregor had expected his response to calm the young lordling down, it had the opposite effect with Gauldryon's blue eyes widened in an apoplectic fit, whereas the rest stared at him, in open-mouthed horror. All but Daria, who released a heavy sigh as though she had expected nothing less, and looked away. Well, he couldn’t say he had ever been lucky with women, but she had seemed especially grumpy these last few days. Perhaps it was her time of the year.

Shrugging it off as though it meant nothing to him, they waited together as the queue slowly moved forward, until finally with the suns sinking behind them, they reached the gates. And much to his surprise, he saw that there was a small gate built into the first, and was guarded by fifteen demavali officers in polished open faced helms, their black and golden uniforms decorated with epaulets, and polished steel breastplates. They were something of a sight to behold, as was the lavishly elegant table that was attended to by a weasley looking human who was staring at his ledger, sniffing his long hooked nose that held a pair of small spectacles, when he spoke up, “next.”

With no one else in front or behind them, Gregor wasted no time, and walked forward, confident that he could convince the bloodsucker to let them in, when two golden eyes stared up at him with intense intelligence. “And what may I state is your business here.”

Taking a deep breath to calm his now suddenly fluttering stomach, he found himself looking over to Daria, before he stated aloud, “We are mercenaries looking for work?”

His head going back down to his ledger, the young vampire, didn’t seem in the least bit impressed as he replied, “And what company do you serve?”

Thinking quickly on his feet, he replied, “We are part of Hargrin Cole's company. Furgas will vouch for us.”

Releasing an “aahhmm,” as he marked something down in his ledger, the man looked up again, his deep yellow eyes boring holes into him. “It says here that Hargin Cole’s company has its full complement of warriors already. Are you certain that is the company you are with?”

Not liking the suggestive tone of his voice or the way the vampire looked down his nose at him, Gregor wanted to throw himself across the table, and throttle the man, when again Gauldryon spoke up for him. “We are the reinforcements he sent for. He said he would need a much larger force for his new job.”

Brows furrowed in confusion as the young clerk looked back for some reason, he muttered, “that bloody dwarf did not mention he was having any trouble. And who might I ask is requesting to join Hargrin Cole’s Company--”

To which Gregor responded immediately ,“--Gregor, tell him I saved his blasted hide from werewolves, he will know what that means.”

Hand held up as he continued to scribble, the man suddenly thrust a note into the hands of one of the guards who slipped away through the gate, giving Gregor a brief enticing glimpse of whitewashed streets, lamplights that didn’t flicker, and inventions that allowed men and women to move about on two wheels.

After a good long wait with the clerk seemingly unbothered by their presence, the guard returned breathless. “Furgas says he has been waiting for these reinforcements for a few days now, and that the work in the mines has slowed.”

His nose crinkled up in frustration, the young clerk gave the guard a dark scowl, “Then blasted why didn’t he say anything?! Bloody fool dwarf and his bloody nonsense, now I have to fill out forms 3DF1, D616, and F219. Very well, go on in. Mr Williams will give you your permits that will allow you access. However I must stress that your movements be restricted to the Foreign Quarter, this is as much for your own safety as ours. Also ensure that you behave yourselves with respect and dignity.” Then with a final wave, "Welcome to Vanclar, please enjoy your stay," And as the small golden gate opened again, Gregor let out a long sigh of relief. Well, that was one step complete.