A Heroic Endeavor
A/N: Ah, the obligatory 'introduce-the-character-and-directly-quote-the-game' first chapter. How we love yet loathe thee. Alas, it is necessary, and I hope the few who read this by mistake will forgive me for it.
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The best stories start with dragons.
'Dragons like this one,' she thinks, staring into an eye twice the size of a dinner plate, and then, 'and the poor adventurer that it eats.'
Her grip is tight on the wooden staff, and she braces herself, whether to fight or flee, she isn't sure. Her heart pounds uncomfortably against her ribcage and just when she thinks she's going to become charbroiled mage™, the dragon lowers its head and a moglin hops off. The moglin pats the scaled ridge above the dragon's eye before looking to where it came from, saying cheerily, "the path is clear, Priestess!"
As she gapes, a woman in white steps off elegantly, grasping a chest with intricate designs made of something glossy and black.
When she sees the girl, she nods graciously and says, "please pardon us friend, we are just passing through."
With that, she continues onwards, the red moglin trailing after her.
The dragon raises its head and eyes the girl in front of it for a moment. It seems to reach some sort of conclusion, and the corners of its mouth stretch up in a rather disconcerting smile. It abruptly turns it's body and extends its wings, the force of which knocks her back a good foot.
She's watching the dragon fade into the distance when she has the thought to escort the visitor to the forest. Rubbing the back of her head absentmindedly, she starts down the path the woman—what was it the moglin said? Priestess?—had walked.
'If she's a priestess, what is she doing out here? There's not much to see… and I should know. Just passing through then? But to where? And why? More importantly, how far does she think that dress is going to stay that ethereal shade of white if she's going through here? Then again, I should talk. I mean, white's not even my color, and it—'
She's brought from her wandering thoughts by the words, "oh my. Who put a carpet in the middle of the forest?"
A voice that is much more panicked cries, "oh noes! This is not a carpet Priestess… it's a gorillaphant!"
As if to emphasize this point, there's a loud snarl along with several thuds and the sounds of snapping twigs as something heavy presumably lunges forward.
"I will protect you, Priestess!" declares a small voice.
Not a moment later, there's a loud 'thwack', and something small hits her knees and makes them bow. Her eyes widen as her legs buckle and she bends unwillingly, and she finds herself looking at the little moglin, rubbing his head. He opens his eyes and latches on to her leg, attempting to pull her forward amid garbled words.
"Hey, hey! C'mon, I'll go help save your friend!" She runs, following the noises over a slight incline in the land, and there they are.
The Priestess is standing, her head tilted at the sight of the roaring beast in front of her.
The girl wonders fleetingly what the Priestess is doing, but the gorillaphant is first on her list. She sends a spark of electricity at it, barely enough to scratch it, but effective in getting its attention.
She manages to keep it at bay for the most part, using her staff to put some distance between them and throwing spells when she could.
Between this and Twilly smacking it with his stick, it seems to be enough to bring it down. It gives one last swipe at the girl with its tusks, slicing her arm, before she throws another spark at it and it falls, shaking the ground with its impact.
The girl leans on her staff, and rubs her arm, glancing back up at the priestess who has begun to speak.
She smiles warmly, and says, "thank you for saving me, brave mage. Might I know the name of my hero?"
Before a response can be formed, the little moglin pipes up, at the side of the Priestess once more, "but priestess… you said her name was Corrin and she's the one who is destined to save the world!"
Corrin blinks. "…what?" she asks.
The woman pushes Twilly back with her foot in a movement that seems designed to seem nonchalant. It doesn't work. The woman gives a short laugh before she informs Corrin, "alas, we are out of time. Good mage, I must ask an important favor of thee. Would you please let Captain Rolith know that we're taking the shortcut? He's just ahead in Oaklore Keep. I am certain we will cross paths again."
"Especially since she is going to take that black dragon box…" Twilly adds.
The priestess sighs, "Twilly…" And she walks off, moglin in tow.
Corrin is left standing there, finger raised, mouth agape, looking quite taken aback. A moment passes and she slowly turns to look down the path to the left. A worn wooden sign proclaims this to be the path to Oaklore.
This really wasn't what she had in mind when she wished for an adventure.