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The Amalgamation

He walked towards the gatehouse, the dirt beneath his bare feet giving way to uncomfortable stone. Smooth, but there was too many gaps which made it uncomfortable.

"Halt!"

He knew what this meant. He's spent too long in these types of civilisations to learn. He stopped in his tracks, waiting for whatever will happen this time. Not sure why, though. All he was wearing was a roughly knit hide loincloth and a single cord of vines spun for small animal bones to be hung off of over the right shoulder. Purple warpaint was over the left side of his chest, a sharp contrast to the stone grey of his chest fur.

He stared towards the guard, who was a tall lion, with his sapphire blue eyes. Pretty sure it would be because of his looks, though. He wasn't indecent by any means. Nothing.... private was showing.

The guard stopped in front of him, looking him up and down.

"Where's your weapon, creature?" the lion asked.

He only stared back, licking his left eye. He called upon what was within him, and a bunch of stone raised up to his head height, sharpening to a deadly point. The lion just kept staring, but he could smell the apprehension. He magically replaced the shards he shaved off and the stones were replaced.

The lion guard nodded and motioned through the gatehouse, "You can enter, creature," he announced.

He nodded and continued his journey, noting the extremely dull blade hanging on the side of the gatehouse. It was odd, sure, but nothing could be done about it, so he continued into the city.

~ ~ ~

The Hybrid

His stomach growled. It's been days since he last ate...

One more kill, then at least some food awaits.

The contract was of a common thief of a rat, but he was hired by a noble, so something important must've been stolen, or at least was attempted to be stolen. Obviously couldn't get the guards to do it, or didn't want to.

'There...'

Right below him, obviously counting out coin in the middle of the alley. Idiotic move.

He reached back to the top of the cone, pulling the heavy flap up and feeling what he needed to. The familiarity of the wood, along with the metal. He pulled out his tool of the trade, a three-section staff, made of dark wood with a hint of silver. A small straight blade was on one side, and a curved blade on the other end, the metal coated in something to not shine in the moonlight.

One good strike is all he needs.

He stood up on the roof, the sections of the staff shifting with soft sounds in the night. He jumped, beginning a series of front flips, the staff being spun above his back. He stopped the flips when he saw the cobblestones, making one final swing of the staff and solidly hitting the rat thief in the head. The thief squeaked loudly on the initial hit of the staff, but was knocked silly when their face hit the cobblestones.

He stood up, his legs in pain due to the hard landing. He roughly grabbed the fur on the back of the rat's head and pulled it up.

"Go to Qranera," he whispered, before stabbing the thief in the neck with the staff's straight blade.

As the rat's life flowed towards the Goddess of Death, he began the arduous task of picking up the coins that the rat dropped, taking the coin pouch as well for extra counting.

He might get a feed soon, if there's enough coin.

He ran through the many alleys to leave the scene of the crime, and he was gone with nary a trace.

~ ~ ~

The Survivor

The gryphon sat at a table he's essentially reserved for himself, carefully drinking the wine from the chalice because of his beak. He wrote the details he needed to remember for who he needs to find on a scrap of parchment, which he was staring at right now.

Deceptive hybrid, staff, personal burden

Amalgamation, geomancer, grave mistake

The tavern was empty, albeit except for himself and the tavernkeeper. Everything in the tavern was lit up by candles, so there was little light being spread.

The tavernkeeper, a lovely lass of a dalmation, sat down at his table, giving both him and herself a bowl of broth.

The gryphon laid his fingers on the coin pouch on his belt.

"How much?" he asked, loosening the cord that held it shut.

The dalmation lass held up a paw, "Please, Sir Asier, there's no need for that," she responded.

"Thou has kept me well, Moira, and my claymore secure. Anon, how much?"

She sighed, placing the side of her head into her paw, "3 Nuceram, Sir."

Asier gave Moira the money required, and sat back to enjoy the broth. He's...... quite enjoyed her hospitality, to say the least. The door to the tavern was opened, the rusted hinges squealing in protest. Asier turned in his seat to look at who was coming in.

A wolf, although he's never seen one with orange fur with black markings. Male, if the body shape is to be believed. Looked extremely on the lean side, though, like a walking corpse. However, as the wolf got more into the candlelight, Asier could notice a few more details, all of them small, and none of them meant for wolves. Tiny whiskers, pupils that became slits in the candlelight

'A deceptive hybrid, it seems,' Asier thought, turning back to his bowl of broth, carefully ripping the parchment so that only the piece that applied to this hybrid could be given to him. 'If he is what I need, then this may be easier than I thought.'

Moira stood up from her seat and went towards the hybrid, obviously able to see how bad of a state he's in. She quickly sat him down at a different table and ran to the small kitchen for another bowl of broth.

With Moira gone, all that Asier needed was those few seconds. He stood up from his chair and slipped the piece of parchment in front of the hybrid.

"Doth thou use a staff as a weapon?" Asier asked, leaning against the rim of the table.

The hybrid looked up at him, the grey eyes becoming more circular as they looked away from the light. "What's it to you?" he asked.

"I need thine assistance with something.... worldchanging."

The hybrid's stomach grumbled loudly, and the hybrid groaned in pain, resting his head on the table.

"What's the pay?"

Asier picked up his bowl and spoon and sat down next to the hybrid. "I need thine skills for... something more than thine trade."

"I said 'what's the pay'!" the hybrid snapped, his head rising rapidly in his anger.

Asier shuffled in his chair, since a wing was starting to get pulled. "100 Nucarem a day, along with free food and shelter on the travels."

Moira came back with a small bowl of broth for the hybrid and placed it in front of him.

"This one's on the house, just because of the state you're in," she informed before leaving to grab her own to sit down with them.

"You drive a good deal, gryphon," the hybrid said, slowly beginning on his bowl instead of devouring it.

"Thine name, hybrid?" Asier asked.

"Skyclaw. Yours?"

"Asier."