glenn-fletcher

If you've just started reading now, I suggest reading the third chapter first. The first two are going to be rewritten.

Britt Pentworth was a 4-star adventurer, one of the most accomplished mages of the First Ascalon guild.

Britt Pentworth had been on over three hundred quests, from 1-star goblin hunts to 5-star dragon slayings, and completed them all.

Britt Pentworth shouldn't be pitching the tent. But Britt Pentworth was pitching the damn tent.

The thin young man grabbed another stake and began to hammer it into the soft jungle dirt. Hot summer rays beat down on his shoulders, filtered through the canopy of branches and leaves that hung over the small patch of open grass he was working in. He wore just a loose, short-sleeved beige tunic and long brown pants, having taken his boots and mage's coat off long ago to ward off the heat. Pausing, he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the side of his arm, then sat back and sighed.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself, reaching to his side. His backpack laid on the ground next to him, and he pulled a sleeve of water from it to take a quick drink. "How did I get here?"

That was rhetorical. Britt knew full well what had brought him to this point. He just still couldn't believe it had happened. One day, he was taking on 5-star quests with the other big names of First Ascalon. The next, he was slumming it on a 2-star quest with some rookie. All just because the two of them got in a little fight.

Well, a little fight that wrecked half the mess hall. But she had been the one to pick it.

Whoever's fault, it was just what he needed. For months he had been buttering up Guildmaster Winthorpe in hopes of getting a promotion to the hallowed 5-star rank. Any adventurer could make 4-star just by going on enough quests, but 5-star was special: you had to get a commendation from a guildmaster to reach that level. Britt had already reached 4-star faster than anyone else in First Ascalon, and he badly wanted to set another record.

Frowning, he took another sip of water. He was about to get back to work, when...

Crash!

Out of nowhere, a loud noise split the air. Britt nearly tumbled over out of fright. A tangle of black fur and pale skin had burst from the nearby brush, rolling and thrashing ferociously. It took a second for Britt to realize what was going on: his partner was getting mauled by a full grown jungle bear!

Wait, no... she was mauling it!

The woman pinned the mass of fur and muscle down, wrapping one strong arm around its neck. The bear struggled against her vice grip, tossing its massive body around, but to no avail. She reached her other arm around and - snap! With the sickening sound of vertebrae shattering, the roaring beast went limp.

With a triumphant laugh the woman rose up, untangling herself from the bear. Britt was still frozen in shock, staring her up and down. Stretching, she noticed his gaze.

"Too easy!" she said, hands planted on her wide hips. "Thing wasn't as tough as it looked."

There was a casual air around her as she brushed herself off and straightened out her clothes - a top made of brown pelt that covered as much as a bikini, a short wrap skirt of the same material, and a studded leather belt. She was out of breath, but seemingly no worse for wear - a wide smile occupied her face. Grabbing a clump of fur near its neck, she began to drag the thousand pound dead animal over towards Britt.

"Think this will be enough for us both? Or should I get another?"

"No." Britt took another, more anxious drink from his water sleeve, then shoved it back in his bag and got back to work on the tent. "I think we'll be fine."

The woman pulled a small knife from a sheath on her belt, then dropped to her knees beside the bear. With a grunt, she plunged the blade into its hide, then tore it back. As she continued skinning the beast, Britt watched her out of the corner of his eye.

Her name was Bela, and though she had been with First Ascalon for a year now, Britt had only met her this morning. He recognized her from the crowd, of course - she had a way of sticking out.

The woman had a few inches on the tallest men in First Ascalon, and a good bit of muscle over the burliest too. Curly waves of fiery red hair framed her pale face. Freckles played over her cheeks, but it didn't make her look soft. There was a certain sharpness to her visage, a gleam of confidence that never faded, daring everyone and anyone to challenge her.

Oh, and she also wore that strange, revealing bear-pelt outfit all the time. Britt had never seen her in anything else, not even once. He wasn't complaining, of course, but did she ever clean it? Many kinds of people came in and out of First Ascalon's doors, but he had never seen another person dressed like Bela.

Just where did this girl come from?