Chapter Two

"Dragon Slayer!" A repetitive and pounding knock on the door was accompanied by a frantic voice.

"Dragon Slayer! Edinburgh needs you!" Another round of knocking, and another tongue spoke.

The pounding on the heavy oak door continued, but what had started as a courteous knock, gradually turned into a heavy clamor of fists wailing on the solid wood. The sound echoed loudly into the entry hall, through the kitchen and dining hall, and into every room on the main floor. It only carried a dim glimpse to the upper floor, where it sounded like a muffled wolf's cry.

The worried men continued with another set of attacks on the door, each calling out and hoping for an answer, fearing they would go without notice. That was until the heavy pair of brass-decorated doors flew open.

A pair of red eyes greeted the two Nordic men dressed in Edinburgh guard's uniforms. The eerie set of eyes glared at the men, followed by a deep scowl on the male, dark elf's face. His silver hair was pulled back from his masculine, aged face into a thick braid that trailed down his spine. The guards stiffened upright as they stared face to face with the 'Dragon Slayer's' right-hand-man in battle, retainer, and friend. The man was notorious for being in a foul mood, and this morning was no exception.

He stood in a pair of brown-dyed cotton slacks with a rough wool towel in his hand, remnants of beard trickled in its fibers, and his face was dripping with water. The fit drow was annoyed, very annoyed at the interruption, and his visitors were not welcome.

He eyed the men up and down from his tall posture, noticing they were breathing heavy, and their uniforms were wet with sweat and river water. Their helmets were removed and settled in the crooks of their arms as they glanced at one another, then back at the retainer with grim expressions.

"What is it?" Gaalin snapped, tossing the towel over his bare shoulder.

The taller of the two men looked him square in the eyes and then stuttered, "W-we came f-fr-from Edinburgh, my lord."

Gaalin raised a sarcastic eyebrow at the man and gestured for him to continue speaking. "And?"

"A-a-a Dragon, my lord. It-it's attacking the city!" he continued.

His eyes were wide in what Gaalin now figured was fear; not a fear of him, but a fear of the cursed beast down the mountainside.

The second guard continued, "It came at dawn, right as the sun gave light over the mountains! It is a massive beast, we rode here as fast as our horses could carry us! God help us, I pray it's not too late!"

Gaalin frowned at the men. "Edinburgh is equipped with many guards. Enough to handle a mere dragon. Summon the dragon slayer only for more important matters.'' He began to shut the door.

"Wait!" shouted the tall guard, protesting the action by placing his palm against the aged wood. "Please, my lord. Edinburgh is in grave danger, we are not prepared for such a beast! It's huge, bigger than any I've ever laid my eyes upon. Our arrows are nothing but something to scratch an itch on its backside, our blades naught but a point it can pick its teeth with. We must have the slayer's aid."

Gaalin looked at the man. He was displeased with the guards, in fact, he was displeased with all of Edinburgh. The war with the dragons was nearing an end, and the dragon slayer was no longer needed to slay every mediocre dragon. The residents of the land had learned to take up arms against the dragons, and they had learned how to defend themselves and their homeland.

The beastly species was getting smaller by the week. Small villages with only farmers had successfully defended their crops and livestock against the fiery breath of the dragons. So how had a grand city such as Edinburgh failed to defend itself from but one dragon?

Gaalin felt his brow crease into a frown again. The war with the dragons had once again been raging on for the last five years, and his lordship, the dragon slayer, had slain many of the fire-breathing lizard-beasts. Far too many to count now, his lordship had finally been able to settle into a home on the mountainside away from the busy crowds of any cities. It was time for this land and her residents to stop depending on the slayers.

"The slayer cannot be summoned for a single dragon. Edinburgh is on its own, and you all must learn to live without the slayer. What happens when there is not one? What then? Who will you ninnies go running to then? Up your king's skirt I suppose." Gaalin snorted and chuckled to himself, once again attempting to close the door.

This time, two pairs of hands landed on the doors and once again stopped him. They both spoke, "Please, my lord, please."

"Edinburgh will be done for without the slayer's aid. It will be nothing but a scorch mark on the landscape, a hole in the maps, it will be nothing but a graveyard. We beg you, please, summon the dragon slayer to aid us," the tallest guard pleaded again, looking like he was on the verge of tears through the dirt that stained his face.

Gaalin analyzed the men through a piercing gaze before speaking once again. "I will see if they are able. Stay here, and do not start with that blasted pounding on my door again."

The men smiled, thanking him over and over again as the door was shut in their faces. Gaalin sighed and ran his hands down the sides of his head. He disliked the citizens of Edinburgh before this, and now he disliked them even more.

He turned on his heels and walked down the entry hall, his lord's home was most magnificent yet quaint at the same time. The home was large with plenty of space and storage. The lower level consisted of the entry hall, dining hall, kitchen, a large library, and his living quarters.

Upstairs lay several barren rooms and his lord's living quarters. The dragon slayer had spent months designing and constructing the masterpiece. Its walls were constructed with brick and stone and artistically accented with sawn lumber. The concept was open, and each room connected to another minus a few hidden passageways.

He entered the dining hall that was connected to the adjacent kitchen, stocked with fresh produce and meat, both salted and frozen. He paused to consider bringing a fresh meal with him, but he chose to continue his lazy pace through the house. The wall sconces were not lit for the day yet, so the rooms remained dark, however, his eyes were accustomed to such a sight. Even through the dim light, he could make out the two large staircases that would lead him up to the next floor where his lord should still be sleeping.

He stepped up the stairs, one by one, trying to make as little noise he could. The slayer was the savior of the people, but may the old Gods help you if you wake this one. Gaalin rounded two dark corners before he came up to a set of double doors. The aged oak was engraved with detailed Nordic artwork depicting a magnificent battle between a slayer and dragon. A king from a distant city sent this as a gift of thanks for saving them from such a beast, a mediocre gift he thought.

Gaalin breathed in deep, closed his eyes, and pusheddown on the iron knob.