On a dark and stormy night, near the last dragons bones, stands a small cabin. It rests just left of the century old road. Yet the dragon bones look older then the very road. Cheers could be heard from the cabin, caravans all parked to the side. A old and wet sign hangs crooked at the top of the entrance of the door. It reads "tavern". A bit forward, is it not? Inside the tavern, sits a lone man. He sips his beer as celebration happens all around. "Torn! I want to drink all you have in stock!" Exclaimed the solder to the bartender.
The bartender, Torn, nervously nods and starts pouring more drinks. But Beck sneers and forces the lifted cup directly onto the table again, "nah, that won't do. I want to drink entirely from the barrel"
Once again, Torn nods a lot and glances at his wife being harassed in the corner. As Torn puts the barrel on the counter, he asks "will you f-fellas be leaving town when dawn brea-?" Suddenly, the door to the establishment opens soundlessly. A cloaked figure enters. The cloak is simply a thin layer to protect against the elements. Holes line the cloak. The room seems to pause. All heads turn to the figure. All drawn by its presence. It slowly and quietly walks. Bumps line the cloak in odd places. And for a moment, everyone forgets what they were doing. The figure sits next to Beck. With a smooth and practiced motion, the figure drops the hood of her cloak. Long, jet black, raven hair flows out and lands at her back. The hair is somewhat captivating. if you only look at the hair, you could convince anyone that she is beautiful. But the face. The moment Beck sees her steely and cold gaze, all that sense of beauty is gone. And only a sense of dread replaces it. "Drink, light" she says quietly as she places a single gold coin down. Torn snaps out of it, "y-y-yes ma'am!" He shudders. Shes more scary then the soldiers threatening me! He pours a drink, and only half way through he realizes something. "Ma'am, y-you over payed" he says quietly. The woman, who's age is hard to place, raises an eyebrow at Torn. "Take it as a tip, if you will?"
"Y-yes, thank you"
Beck smirks once again, this time a crooked glint in his eye. The cold ones are always more fun.He takes a look at her again and notices details he didn't get the first time because by how... off putting she is. The golden eyes, strange. But he has seen stranger. The way she sits, too straight. The odd shape of her cloak. Her hands are not on the counter, they are in her lap. She isn't even drinking. And that scar, its hard to see from this angle but she has a clean cut like scar left cheek. Its big, and diagonal too. The woman turns to Beck, "are you quite done?" She asks sharply. Beck blinks, he swore that he was hiding his watchful eye. The sound of celebration returns as the rest of the tavern and soldier decide that the woman was no longer of interest.
"Oh! Your taking to me! Names Beck. And you are?"
The woman's eyes hold his, and she norrows them.
"Fantasia" the woman says.
"Fantasia, what a strange name." Says Beck.
"Quite." She says in return. Beck is starting to understand that Fantasia isn't usually one for conversation. The silence holds for a moment, then Fantasia speaks again. "I am looking for someone." "Uh huh." Beck says in return, confused as to why she would tell him. Then just as suddenly, his face mets the counter. Torn jumps in surprise. "Tell me everything you know about the wandering dragon." She growls with her hand around his skull.