Summary: While the others fight the Plegian War, Nowi and Gregor are left in Ylisse to deal with petty crimes in Ylisse. (Based off of Paralogue I)

"Come on, old man!" Nowi chirped, sprinting back along the path and tugging on Gregor's arm.

"Oi! If Gregor is old man, then Nowi is great-great-great-great-grandma!" The mercenary pouted. "If you are so very old, from where is limitless energy coming?"

Nowi didn't break pace, dragging Gregor along as she ran down the dirt path. "Lots and lots of Vitamin D!" She glanced over her shoulder and threw him a wink. Gregor returned it with a look of utter confusion.

"There!" Nowi exclaimed. She pointed ahead, to a short cobbled wall just ahead, peeking through the woods. "That must be the village. Time to kick some brigand butt!"

"Aye, yes," Gregor grinned. "The kicking of butt, Gregor understands!"

The lack of guards at the village entrance was more than disconcerting, but the air was far from quiet. Even as the pair approached, a hoarse screaming grew nearer and nearer, and a short figure, clad in farmer's clothes and with a large bronze pot on his head, came careening around the corner and collided with Gregor.

"S-sir! I mean, milord!" The young man gripped Gregor's shirt in both hands. "You gots to help us! I'm beggin' ya, milord! Milady! I mean, uh, missus!"

Gregor grinned. Nowi elbowed him sharply in the side.

"We're no high lords or ladies," she giggled, "no matter what this one might say. But we'd be happy to help! Just slow down, what exactly is going—"

"Oy!" A rough voice, and the thudding of heavy boots heralded the arrival of more newcomers. Two brigands rounded the corner. "There's the wee piglet!"

"Oh, great," Nowi rolled her eyes.

The brigands laughed. "What's this? Some ragtag merc and his... little sister, is it? Or trophy?"

"OY!" Gregor roared. "Wee one is no trophy! And Gregor is no 'ragtag!'" Without waiting for them to respond, he drew his steel blade and cut down the first brigand. The other swung his axe towards Gregor, but he caught the axehead on the hilt of his sword, pulling the axe out of the brigand's hand and plunging his blade into the brigand's chest. As the brigand choked and stiffened, Gregor kicked the body off of the end of his sword, turning back to the villager, who was watching in great horror, both hands on the handles of his pot-helmet.

"Now, smöl one, you tell Gregor what is happening here."

"What's your name, to start?" Nowi asked kindly, patting the villager's pot.

"D-donny. Er, that is, Donnel. But you can call me anythin', milady, milord! I live in the village just beyond this wall. That rotten-toothed, pig-stinkin' bandit you just ran off attacked us! Er, pardon my language, Your Lordliness. I'm the only one who got away, and even then just barely. They were roundin' up the others to haul 'em off to a bandit camp... Please, sir! You gots to save them folks! My ma's one of 'em, and... She's all I got in this world!"

"Worry not!" Gregor puffed out his chest. "You leave it to Gregor. And, er, wee one. Say, Nowi – why you come with Gregor without weapon?"

Nowi blinked at him. "Um." She hoisted the blue stone off of her belt and held it up to him. Gregor lifted an eyebrow, but didn't ask further questions.

"Come, Don-knell! We go save your Ma."

Donnel led them around the edge of the wall, which was heavily wooded, to the side of the village. The village's periphery was framed by farmland, and as they came up on the back fields, they saw that the brigands had indeed rounded up a good deal of the villagers in one of the pigpens. They crept closer.

"Stupid brigands," Nowi muttered. "They didn't even leave anyone to keep guard on their backs."

"Shh," Gregor hushed her, putting a finger to his lips. He pressed himself against the wall of one of the houses, motioning for she and Donnel to do the same. They peeked around the corner.

"P-please, sirs!" A woman, close to the edge of the fence, gripped at the post with both hands. "We've got nothin' left to take! Just– please, let our children go!"

One of the brigands kicked at the fence post, and she staggered back. "Quit yer bleatin'!"

Another brigand came up by the first's side. "Oy, Roddick! Isn't this the mum of that brat that got away?"

Donnel's eyes widened. He opened his mouth, but Nowi clapped a hand over it before he could make a noise.

Roddick placed a hand on his chin. "Hmm. Aye, yes! I know this one – yer the wife of that man that broke me rib last time we was here!"

"And you killed him for it, you monster!" The woman shrieked. "I wished he'd've done you in first..."

The brigands cackled. "It's no small wonder that the brat's got more brass than brains, if you're his mum. Guess we'll see for ourselves when we catch him, eh—?"

Donnel suddenly leapt forwards, and Nowi was unable to grab his arm before he did so. The pot on his head clattered to the dirt, and all the villagers and brigands turned their heads towards the noise. "A-ain't nobody gets to talk to my Ma like that!"

"Ey, speak of the little devil!" Roddick grinned. "Come to punch us all to death, lad?" he looked over at the woman. "Now, woman, we'll make you watch as we gut him...!"

"Not on Gregor's watch! Gregor will not be made to do the watching...!" With a battle cry, Gregor emerged from cover, sword drawn.

"Wait!" Nowi shoved him out of the way, standing between Gregor and Donnel and the brigands. They laughed again. "Oh, now there's a wee girl with 'em too! I bet she'd sell for somethin' good on the auction block, wouldn't ya say, lads?" The brigands roared in assent.

Nowi narrowed her eyes. "I'm. Never. Going. Back. To. The. Block." She lifted the stone in her right hand, and a fantastic flash of light blinded the area. Gregor lifted his arms to shield his eyes. When the light cleared, eddies of dust were floating around the area, and where Nowi had stood, there was a massive beast, about twice the size of a horse, floating in the air as it was suspended by wings of translucent scales.

"B-by the gods!" Roddick staggered backwards. "She's a manakete!"

The dragon let out a roar, and flapped her wings hard, buffeting the brigands, who either fell over on their bottoms or turned and ran. Nowi climbed into the air, and blasted a ball of cold, white energy towards them. It exploded on the ground, sending some flying, leaving others encased in frost.

Gregor, still wide-eyed, shook himself soundly, and charged forwards at the first line of stunned brigands. With a wild tackle, he took two down, swinging his blade to slash at another. Together with Nowi, they made short work of the fleeing brigands.

Roddick hefted his twin axes, gritting his teeth grimly. Nowi spat at him, and he dodged the ice bolt, but she darted forwards, whacking him across the chest with her tail. She chased his flying form, scooping him up in her foreclaws. Roddick screamed like a little girl. "P-please! No!" In response, Nowi roared in his face, and clamped her jaws down on his torso, spitting his body out into the dirt.

The brigands defeated, she floated slowly down to the ground, and the light flashed once more, and she was once again a small girl. She turned and made a face at Gregor.

"Blech!" She spat on the ground. "Ugh, he tasted gross!"

Gregor blinked at her. "Oy! Why you never tell Gregor that you are dragon?"

Nowi shrugged. "I guess I forgot that you've never seen me transform?" She grinned. "But pretty cool, right?"

"That was darn AWESOME!" Donnel yelled as the villagers began to climb over the pigpen's fence. The woman from earlier ran towards him and scooped him into her arms.

"Oh, Donny! Thank the gods yer safe."

"And you, Ma!" Donnel sniffled, hugging her back tightly.

The villagers clamored around Nowi and Gregor. "We owe you our lives! How can we possibly repay you?"

Nowi smiled sweetly at them. "No debt owed! We're just trying to do our part while our friends fight the war for us."

"Say," Donnel walked up to them, ducking his head. "I'm sorry I wasn't more help."

Gregor ruffled his hair. "No need for worries, wee lad! Soon, you will be defending village with single-hand."

As they walked back to the palace, the sun began to diminish in the sky. Nowi folded her hands behind her back and hummed softly as they went. Gregor cast her a sidelong glance.

"How long has wee one been a dragon, eh?"

Nowi giggled. "Since uh, I was born, silly! Really though – I'm super sorry if I surprised you. Oh! I know, I'll make it up to you"

Gregor lifted an eyebrow. "Eh?"

"Back before I headed out into the world, my tribe taught me a couple handy tricks. You can make nice sweaters and chainmail out of manakete scales, you know? Which would you prefer? Sweater, or chainmail? ...Hm, I think you'd look nicer in a sweater. Sweater it is!"

Gregor laughed, and patted her head. "But if wee one donates scales to nice sweater for Gregor, then defenses will be less, no?"

Nowi shrugged. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's just a few scales."

"A 'few?'" Gregor tapped his nose thoughtfully. "Gregor is not knowing this 'few.' Is more than two, yes?"

Nowi snickered. "Yeah, definitely more than two."

"Well," Gregor huffed. "Gregor very grateful for sacrifice, but is very foolhardy!"

"No, really! I just want to–"

"We make new rule!" Gregor stopped in front of her. "Since you lose armor, you must stay close to Gregor in battle. Is agreed?"

Nowi elbowed him again, in a more friendly manner. "I think I can go along with that."