Friday afternoon, a camp a buzzin.

John and Cynthia walked into the camp hand in hand, Arnold following behind them swinging the keys of the SUV around his index finger. Arnold gave a sharp whistle, then tossed his keys into the air, Marco appearing from his sleeve and flying after the keys, flapping his wings as he flew towards the tents with them.

John noticed that the camp was unusually busy as they walked around, people almost running from place to place. The hunters barely had the time to greet Arnold as they moved past them.

“What’s up with all of them? Something going on?” John asked softly, looking from Cynthia to Arnold. Before either of them could speak, however, a string of words flew at John, yes, literal words. “Is something going on?” they spelled out in front of him.

A voice with a slight German accent came from the sky. “If you are going to say something, say it right. You are a native speaker, have some standards.”

John looked up, seeing a tall, black scaled, anthropomorphic dragon hovering in the sky, his hands loosely on his back as his amber eyes focused on John. He was dressed in dark, chocolate brown leather lined with chainmail, strips of mail covering the ‘important’ areas, steel toed boots covered his feet, and the dark leather pants were tucked into them. On his fingers, a set of three rings shone lightly while a golden band was secured around one of the two horns sprouting from the back of his skull, arching up slightly with a curve. Before John could cast observe or ask him who he was, Arnold’s surprised voice echoed through the camp.

“Dra? Sir Dra! They sent you? I guess we are a top priority case then!”

“Please, Arnold, call me mister, you know I dislike being called Sir,” the dragon said with a hint of a smirk. “It’s good to see you too, my friend.”

As he spoke the anthropomorphic dragon glided to the ground, his boots hitting the ground with a soft thud; seconds later, he and Arnold were gripping each other in a bearhug.

John asked Cynthia in a soft whisper. “Any idea?”

A second string of words flew at John, this time hitting him in the forehead before hovering in front of him again. ‘Do you have any idea?’

John shut his mouth right away. Cynthia shook her head. “I don’t know, not a clue. But I think dad knows him.”

Arnold broke away from the hug, patting Dra on the shoulder. “John, Cynthia, meet Dra, Mister Dra as he likes to be called. He and his partner are what you could say some of Artemis’ top bruisers. We filed a report yesterday, about the Collector and her goons. It seems our lady found it a big enough problem to send in the big guns. Mister Dra here is a practicer of literal magic. One of the best in his field.

“We arrived twenty minutes ago, and Miranda said we had just missed you. Glad to see you are back. We have a lot of catching up to do, and a lot to discuss,” the dragon spoke with a stern gaze.

“Well, I think we better head towards the center then. John, Cyn, come with me. I think it’s a good idea for you two to get acquainted with Mister Dra and his partner. Before you say anything, Dra, these are my daughter Cynthia and her boyfriend, John ‘the Gamer’ Newman.”

Dra’s eyes lit up as he heard that, and he gave a polite nod to Cynthia. “A pleasure meeting you, Cynthia.” Then his amber colored eyes went over to John. “So this is the late bloomer you guys talked about. Most curious. Very well, let's move this conversation to the command center.”

The four of them set off to the center of the camp, the two older men at the front, then the two teenagers, followed by a pangolin and a leopard cub in the back.

John casually cast observe on Dra’s back, trying to find out a bit more about him, when the dragon in question raised his right hand. A ring shining slightly as Observe was once again messed with.

Dra
Level: ???

‘If you want to know something, Mister Newman, ask. Spying is impolite.’ those words flew from Dra’s wings before appearing in a neat line in front of John, dissolving into thin air after John had read them.

“Literal magic, I get it. He uses the magic of words. Here I was thinking he was an incredible mage,” John mumbled, getting a poke into his sides from Cynthia.

“John, if dad’s words are correct and he is one of our ladies specialists, then I can promise you one thing: Dad and Mom won’t be able to take care of him on their own. So please, don’t antagonize him?”

John swallowed his next words at that comment, nodding quickly as they walked into the tent.

Inside of the tent, Miranda was drinking a cup of tea with what looked to be a set of armour. The head, held in the armor’s right hand as the left held the tea up to it’s lips, nodded with Miranda speaking to him casually. “You don’t know how happy we are to have you here, Sir Archibald. Tell me, have there been any news on the expeditions? Has there been anyone able to help you with your density issues?”

The head shook itself left to right, as some green mist started to flow from his mouth, a white mouse with a small staff and talisman hurried out of one of the joints of the armour and onto his shoulder. Starting to dance and squeak until the mist went back into the place it came from. “Sadly, none. Up to this point, only Solas here has managed to help me. But even Solas can’t fix me, he can just keep the damage from getting worse.” The dulahan put his tea cup down before he stroked the little mouse tenderly with his metallic fingers. The mouse then nuzzled into his finger before climbing onto his wrist and starting the trek back to his home inside the armor, disappearing into it while holding the staff with his tail.

Miranda noticed the others come in and smiled. “Arnold, I see you and Dra found each other. Good. Cynthia, John. Meet Sir Archibald. Dra’s partner and honoured dulahan.

The armor turned to face them, a smile on his lips. “Pleasant meeting you two. I am sorry, I did not hear you come in.”

Dra wiggled his fingers. ‘It’s a pleasure meeting you two,’ appeared in front of Archibald.

“My bad, it’s a pleasure meeting you two,” he corrected himself. Then he added, “Your lady found me in an old abandoned castle barrier somewhere east of Prussia; my English is not perfect. Apologies in advance if I make mistakes.”

Dra turned to John and Cynthia as he added, “My partner has a problem with his viscosity.. When Artemis found him, he was already starting to drift apart, he has managed to keep himself together but so far, we have not been able to find a way to fix him. Even his pet, one of the best spirit shamans in the organisation, has no idea how his drift got this bad, let alone how to fix it.”

John and Cynthia both nodded in understanding. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Sir Archibald. Can I ask you something?” John asked as politely as he could.

“Of course, how will we learn if we do not ask questions?” the dulahan responded with a small nod of his head.

“Why did an undead join a hunting organisation?” John asked quickly.

“Ah, a question I heard much times.” The word ‘many’ appeared before Archibald. John could swear he saw the spectral face blush before he continued his sentence. “I had no purpose when I was found, almost no memories. Lady Artemis has helped me regain that purpose, and for that reason my weapons are hers, and so is my faith.”

John nodded, wanting to ask a few more questions when a chest next to Archibald started to shake, a loud thudding coming from the inside. The dulahan and dragon looked at each other with confusion.