Near the triple border between Lionia, Entoma and Gardie there was a special place. Some might call it a sanctuary, a place free of worry and violence, those who do so are not entirely wrong, but they are not right either. The Preserve, or at least this one, wasn't all that big, barely more than any given town's central square. The surprisingly well-tended grass and variety of flowers are the least surprising features of it. No, the most important and most fascinating part of The Preserve is the four “statues” there.

These “statues” are the perfect blend of metal and organic matter. Looking at them, one can hardly distinguish whether any of them were originally human, but having been modified over the centuries, looked more and more like robots, with many metal parts, or if they were robots that had human-looking parts expertly created for them. Minutes, hours, days. One can stare at them for however long they want as well as do almost anything they want and not see a single reaction. These statues will not budge, rain or sun, whatever happens, they just watch The Preserve silently, never interacting in any way, shape, or form. Except for one condition.

Little is known of the Ancient people, even though they left so much behind as their civilization crumbled, but there is one thing about them that very few people argue against: They were extremely arrogant and obsessed with preserving things. To the point that they wished to protect many things, even in their grave. Perhaps in the twilight of their civilization, some may have remarked on the irony of making so many things that could keep running and maintaining itself without human intervention, thus making humanity itself superfluous in a way. However, the end result cannot be denied.

Physical violence is not allowed inside The Preserve, no matter what form it takes. A predator chasing a prey, two animals fighting for dominance or territory, fistfights. As soon as any kind of violence occurs within The Perserve, its Wardens will suddenly move into action. As silently as when they stand still, they move to break up the fight, then according to lifetime offenses, a punishment is handed down accordingly: For the first offense, it's a few minutes being restrained, for the second offense, after being restrained, the offender is removed from The Preserve, on the third time, death follows the removal from The Preserve. No animal life is to be lost within The Preserve. That is the Warden's prime directive, or so it seems to anyone that has ever visited it. In the case that anything manages to kill within the Preserve, it will be chased forever by a Warden, until that Warden successfully kills that person or creature.

How it was made or the exact motivations for bringing it into being, nobody knows, however, there is something for which The Preserve is exceedingly convenient: Diplomatic encounters between hostile leaders. As if they were friendly rivals of the sports variety, two parties sat on benches at opposite sides of each other, their every movement being watched by the silent protectors of The Preserve.

One of the parties was led by the Countess Isabel de Trestia, leader of Entoma. With her were two ascended Wasps, an ascended Mantis and an ascended human who was hiding which animal he had gained characteristics of. Across that bench sat the Baron Vladimir Basbuzuc, a huge and muscular ascended gorilla, surrounded by an ascended mongoose, and ascended fox, an ascended honey badger and an ascended raven.

Entoma and Gardie were not officially at war, but border skirmishes were quite common and there was no love between the people of both countries. Therefore, The Preserve was the perfect place to negotiate for a Grand Hunt, when more than one of the Great Nobles hunted a Dragon together.

The Countess was the first to break the silence, showing a fake smile as she greeted the Baron.

“Good day to you, Baron Basbuzuc, it seems that you at least have enough sense to not completely ignore the call for a Grand Hunt. I'm sure that you are well aware that I do not call for those lightly, especially nowadays that it means I may have to team up with you.”

She made very clear her displeasure at seeing him. In reply, the Baron sneered and scoffed at her.

“Hah, I just consented to this meeting because I wanted to know what had your panties in a bunch so much that you would consider standing so near to me. It also helps to see you in the humiliating position of having to ask me for help. So, grandma, did you try to hunt the new big bad Dragon and it wounded your pride? Perhaps more than that? I heard one of those ugly wasps got pretty hurt. Already all healed up I see. You insects sure are good at keeping yourselves alive.”

It was a simple provocation that was easy for the Countess to ignore. From her point of view, even mentally sparring with a barbarian like the Baron was little more a waste of time. It wasn't like if things got really serious they could escalate to the ultimate point of violence, although that was the reason that the meeting was held in The Preserve in the first place.

“I wouldn't expect for a person whose territory does not contain a Pool of Reorigination to understand the danger of a Dragon. Although, maybe you could ask from one of the many merchants in your country how much of a problem Old Chad can be.”

A chill passed through everyone present. There were very few people in the Wildlands stupid enough to underestimate Old Chad, usually those who do get dared into attempting to hunt him, they then invariably either become people who don't underestimate Old Chad or they become dead people.

“That bad huh.” The Baron muttered to himself, then continued. “Fine, I will take your point, but surely a recently ascended Dragon can't be anywhere near as dangerous as Old Chad, or are you going to tell me that this is actually some older Dragon that you only now decided to give proper attention?”

At least the conversation seemed to be progressing in a sensible manner.

“That's not the case. I have fought with it, it still acts rashly and is easily scared when wounded. It doesn't have the cunning or patience that an older Dragon usually has. Now, here's the problem and why I called for a Grand Hunt: That Dragon is way too resilient. Wounding it is already a huge hassle and considering the average Dragon's stamina, pursuing it, letting alone bringing it down or wounding it further during pursuit is not really feasible without the kind of firepower that you only get with a Grand Hunt.”

The Baron let a smug smile show that betrayed his thought. Stroking his chin as he looked quite satisfied made the Countess' stomach churn, but it was the kind of price that she was prepared to pay if it helped her get rid of that Dragon.

“Oh, I see. So it really seems like the old, venerable, wise, powerful, beautiful, ancient and respectable Countess de Trestia needs the kind of brute strength that poor ugly me, the brute, Baron Basbuzuc, possesses, interesting.”

Technically, she thought to herself, she didn't need him specifically. She called for a Grand Hunt also for the Duke and perhaps the Prince. Although, she did hear that the Prince was off somewhere far away, as a favor to the Duke. A shame, but she would have to make do with Basbuzuc and his best warriors to compensate.

“Of course. I might consider you an uncultured brute, but I don't remember ever disrespecting the strength that you so clearly possess. It's not like the Dragon will get killed by good manners, so on that point I suppose I don't care about you attitude or however you treat your subjects. Hunting a Dragon requires strength, cunning and ruthlessness, three things which I don't mind admitting you have plenty of.”

Nobody said the Countess couldn't ever be flattering if she wanted to. As big of an enemy as the Baron was, a fully grown Dragon, especially that one, would be a much bigger problem than spending some time with him. But unfortunately, it seems that he wasn't quite ready to consent to participation in the Grand Hunt.

“Hmm. I think I understand where you're coming from. Still, why should I put my and my retainer's lives at risk to hunt a Dragon that Ascended in Entoma? I'll be quite blunt, it's not my problem, so what would I have to gain from participating in this Grand Hunt of yours?”

The Countess showed enormous restraint in not immediately getting up to go spit on the Baron for how much of an ignorant buffoon he was. Of course, she really shouldn't expect any better from him than a cheap attempting of getting her to lower herself for asking him. Maybe he thought he could get her to beg or something, the nerve!

“I see you don't much value in obtaining objects such as the sword that the Mercenary Prince possesses.” The Baron's eyes glinted at that. “Also, I don't think you grasp how far a Dragon can travel. Although it ascended in the Pool of Adam, inside my country. Rumors have it in the vicinity of Daedalusgrad. Now, suppose we just leave it alone, do you really think it won't ever wander into Gardie? I suppose then you might still shrug it off then and say it's not your problem? Perhaps when it starts attacking one of the busy trade routes in Gardie you might consider it your problem. But then, if that happens, why wouldn't I just shrug and say it's not my problem? You can play all the games you want with your retainers, but I won't stand for this kind of shit when it comes to a Grand Hunt.”

Of course she was being confrontational. She wanted to get this done as fast as possible. She wasn't about to spend a whole day massaging the Baron's ego enough to get his cooperation. Whether it was positive or negative, she needed an answer soon.

“Whoa, calm down there, violence is not okay in The Preserve, remember? Fine, so you tell me that I get to take parts of the Dragon home with me when we kill it?”

Although he feigned mock fear, the Baron at least seemed to have understood the situation. Or at least, he understood that he could gain something from it, even if didn't seem to understand the menace that the Dragon represented.

“Of course, remember that it isn't useful for anything if you can't process it.”

And considering the fact that very few Dragons have ever been hunted in Gardie, it was likely that there was nobody alive in that country who knew the proper way of processing materials gathered from a Dragon.

“Oh, don't you worry, that's what money is for.”

That was another reason why she hated him. Acting as if almost anything could be solved with money. But at least this meant that she had secured his cooperation in this Grand Hunt. Good, he was probably the most troublesome one to convince. In fact, just him and his retainers might just be enough.