The Frontier. For the rest of the Known World, it was a place of untold dangers and terrifying monsters. For the Explorers, it was a land where great fame and untold fortune were found.

So thought Ladon as he picked his way across the sodden ground, his gaze darting around with wariness. Traversing a swamp at night was not part of the itinerary, but it was the nearest shortcut toward his party’s destination.

A loud splash made him glance over his shoulder, but it was just Naga stepping on a small puddle. “Sorry,” the short girl mumbled, retreating beside the hulking form of Druk. They were an odd pair—Naga as the brains and Druk as the brawns—but they were the perfect pair in combat.

Ladon nodded wordlessly and resumed his walk. A carpet of grey mist rolled over their feet; they had to hurry before it grew thick and obscure their surroundings.

Soon a light smudge appeared in the distance, an unnatural break in the heavy darkness. Ladon scanned the area; they were in a lightly wooded section of the swamp, pockmarked with more puddles.

Ladon whistled. He sensed, more than heard, the swift footfalls of silent feet approaching from his left. A tall man garbed in the green and brown attire of a tracker appeared, carrying a stout bow in his hand.

“Captain.” For a single word spoken so softly, Kur’s voice reverberated in Ladon’s ears.

“Scout ahead. Check what that is.” He pointed toward the smudge. Kur nodded and raced off, his braided locks bouncing off his shoulders.

As the hunter went on, Ladon felt a tap on his shoulder. Levia was staring at him quizzically. “Problem?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully not.”

Kur returned a few minutes later with relieving news; there was an abandoned outpost a hundred yards ahead.

Ladon smiled, adjusted the large shield on his back, and motioned for the party to follow. At least, they would not have to camp out in the open.

The outpost turned out to be no more than a decrepit hut, but it still had a roof and intact walls. After entering the old and dilapidated door, a fire was lit, and several figures hunkered down around the warm campfire. Ladon unslung his great shield and laid it across his lap, wiping the surface with a cloth.

“Well, that was a boring trip,” Valmut commented as he removed the scarf around his neck. His hooked nose cast dark shadows over his face, giving him an eerie visage similar to a goblin.

Levia raised an eyebrow. “We are barely four days into this expedition, and you are already bored?”

The trapmaster shrugged, but said nothing and began to fix their dinner. As the stew simmered over the fire, he turned to Ladon and said, “So, Captain. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

Ladon paused, gazing thoughtfully at the dancing flames. “We will continue our search. But if the situation proves dangerous, we turn back.” This was the first time they had ventured so far into the Frontier, and it would be foolish to let their guard down even if they were seasoned veterans.

Valmut snorted. “Ah, come on. It shouldn’t be too hard to kill this Black-Horned Wyrm. We are the Seven Hunters, remember? We slew the Beast of Shatterspire.”

Ladon’s lips curved upwards as he remembered that mission. It was indeed the hardest one they had taken, and some of them still bore scars from that battle.

“But you forgot one thing,” Ladon said, laying his shield next to him and grabbing a bowl from his pack.

“What?”

Ladon fixed Valmut with a sharp gaze. “This is the Frontier, remember? It slew countless Explorers.”

***

The next day dawned grey and cold, forcing the Hunters to continue their journey in a tighter formation than they did the previous morning. Fog still clung to the ground, but they could still see the path, for which Ladon was thankful; the waters have grown deeper, forming small lakes and pools that threatened to drown anyone who had the misfortune to lose their footing.

It was midday when they got the first sign of their quarry. Ladon was just thinking of resting under a tall aspen tree when Valmut gave a shout, and the party skidded to a halt. The trapmaster pointed to an oddly shaped depression on the ground. “Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.” Ladon approached the depression. He gave it a once-over, then motioned for Naga. “What do you think?” he asked the girl.

Naga examined the ground, her face growing paler by the second while the group crowded around her. “No doubt about it, Captain. This is the dragon’s footprint.”

“But it’s large enough to step on Druk!” exclaimed Valmut. “How big is this thing?”

“Twenty feet tall, give or take,” Kur said. “Which means it’s at least twice that in length.”

“Larger than the Beast of Shatterspire,” Tiamar, their healer, remarked. “This could be our biggest kill.”

“Assuming we can kill it,” Ladon muttered. He scanned the area and saw a track heading north. He knitted his eyebrows, then adjusted his shield so that he could pull it quickly if the need arose. “Let’s go. But be careful; we are now in its territory. Kur, you’re our vanguard today.”

The hunter nodded and sprinted into the distance. Ladon led the rest of his group parallel to the footprints, their weapons drawn and ready. The trees had begun to thin, though pools of water still remained.

It was not long before a long whistle came ahead. Ladon held up a hand, stopping their advance. He crouched, his movement mirrored by the others, and they crept forward until they saw Kur lying on his belly on the mossy ground. The hunter pressed a finger to his lips and pointed ahead.

Beyond was the edge of the forest where the trees were thinner. Ladon squinted as a dark shape seemed to move past the treeline. He could just make out the long tail whipping lazily in the air, and the bright glint of green scales. “There he is,” Druk rumbled next to him, enormous axe in hand. “Come on. Let’s take him.” “We could catch him by surprise if we act quickly,” Valmut added. There was a hungry look in his gaze. No,” Tiamar said sharply; they all looked at her. “Captain, we have little cover here. It would be suicide to charge ahead. And,” her hair swayed as she glanced around with wariness, “something feels off.”

Ladon regarded her quietly. Tiamar may be their healer first, but it was her cunning mind and quick thinking that had saved them in most of their missions.

“We head back for now,” Ladon decided at last. Valmut and Druk groaned. “Tiamar is right; we are not prepared. Let’s discuss our strategy over lunch.” His neck suddenly prickled. To their immediate left, a puddle erupted like a geyser, and something small and nimble leapt with a screech.

“Swamplings!” Levia yelled, her palms glowing as she shot a red bolt of energy toward the creature.

The Hunters leapt to their feet as more swamplings hurtled out of the water around them, swarming over the little group. Druk’s axe curved a bloody arc, and Naga’s twin swords flashed as she fended off attacks from the east. The creatures may look like fishes with clawed hands and feet, but they were known to devour Explorers caught unawares by their ambushes.

Fortunately, they were just small fry for seasoned Explorers, and it was almost a chore dispatching them. Ladon grimaced as he killed one with his short sword; they smelled like rotten fishes.

As the last swampling fell, a roar sounded. Ladon cursed; the dragon had noticed them, drawn by the sound of battle. “Get ready!” he shouted, tracking the beast in the air. It glared at them with malevolent eyes, then swooped down in their direction.

They scattered, and Ladon found himself holding his massive shield while Levia readied another spell behind him, her blue hair whipping in the wind. She launched a fireball over Ladon’s shoulder. It splashed across the dragon’s massive black horns, but it barely damaged the monster and seemed to enrage it further.

“Hit its belly!” shouted Naga. Druk charged with a bellow and swung his axe. The dragon buffeted him with its wings, throwing the warrior off his feet. Druk landed in a shallow puddle with a curse.

An arrow shattered by the creature’s flanks. Kur nocked another one, but had to roll away when the dragon opened its jaws and bathed the area with searing flames.

Ever the opportunist, Valmut darted past the dragon’s front legs and slashed at its hindquarters with his scimitar. “Hey, ugly!” he taunted. The creature snapped its jaws at him, so he scampered away. Ignoring the escaping prey, the dragon turned its baleful eyes toward Druk.

“Tiamar, protect Levia!” shouted Ladon. He barreled toward his friend, heavy armor creaking in protest. The dragon charged, moving swiftly for one so large, and raised a limb, claws gleaming wickedly.

With a roar, Ladon halted in front of the dragon and raised his shield; the limb came down with force, and Ladon’s arms went numb. But he gritted his teeth and held on. A bomb oozing with yellow smoke arced in the air and landed by the dragon’s feet. It exploded, and the dragon shook its massive head, growling.

Ladon backed away while holding his breath. Valmut’s paralysis bombs were potent, but the beast seemed immune to it. He glanced over his shoulder quickly. Druk was already standing, his craggy face masked with relief. “How many times would you save me?” he asked with a smile.

Ladon snorted. “As many times as you would fall, old friend. Can you get it to show its belly?”

Druk nodded. He lifted his axe and lunged after the beast, attacking the front legs, driving it back with the same ferocity it displayed. The dragon roared, then reared for a moment. Its underside was in full view.

“Levia! Kur!”

Three arrows buzzed like hornets, followed by the boom of another fireball. They struck the dragon dead center in its chest; it howled in pain. Druk buried his axe in its stomach, shouting victoriously.

With a gurgling bellow, the Black-Horned Wyrm toppled on its side, soaking the ground with blood.

Ladon panted heavily, smiling at Valmut’s whoops as he rushed to the monster’s corpse. He immediately whipped out a carving knife and began the process of determining which materials were best to sell, aided by Kur, with much advice from the knowledgeable Naga.

“I guess this is mission accomplished, Captain,” Levia said with a grin, striding beside Tiamar.

“Those horns would make fine trophies for our base.” There was a glint in Tiamar’s eyes.

“Indeed, they will.” Ladon chuckled and slung his shield across his back. Another monster slayed, another mission completed. And once again, he and his friends were alive.

The Frontier. For the rest of the Known World, it was a place of untold dangers and terrifying monsters.

For the Explorers, it was a land where great fame and untold fortune were found.

But for the Hunters, it was where great adventures were made, and where bonds of friendship were strengthened.

THE END