"... It's basically a flying money bag!"

"This is a terrible idea."

"It's just a wyrmling, and it literally has copper in the name! They're the size of cows and each scale is basically a copper coin- it's a rare chance to kill a rare enemy, and I don't see why you're complaining."

"Sure, Nock- let's go kill a baby dragon, it's a great opportunity!" I mocked. "Besides," I continued, "how do we even find it? We're in a forest, and trees aren't see-through."

"Well these ones aren't," Creed countered, "and we find out just like any other loud obnoxious creature "

A SCREEEEEETCH was emitted from before us.

"Sound!" Creed finished, and we searched for places to hide.

It was in a relatively less dense part of the forest, where the trees were forty meters tall and light barely passed through their foliage.

Creed and I split up and hid behind different trees.

The copper wyrmling was flying around the treetops.

Catching Creed's attention, I pointed at myself then up, then at Creed and made a 'come here' gesture, and then pointed in the wyrmling's general direction. This meant that I would climb up the trees, throw down a rope so that Creed could climb up and follow me, then we'll head over to the wyrmling together.

He nodded and I started climbing, and when I reached the top I signalled to him.

He nodded and for some inexplicable reason, came out of his cover. standing in the open, he shouted at the wyrmling "hey muckhead! Those are some nice wings- great- for wiping, my, BUTT!"

Oddly enough, even though wyrmling's aren't supposed to know common, this one clearly seemed pissed. It turned twords Creed and dived, it's neck lighting up as it did so. Whatever it was doing, it probably wasn't something I wanted to see happen. With some choice words, I pushed off of the branch, propelling myself downwards to try and intercept the wyrmling. I unsheathed my daggers, and successfully managed to imbed them in its neck. I straddled myself to its neck, and with a twist I was able to swerve its course. Then whatever it was charging shot out of its mouth- a white cone of the hottest fire I've ever felt.

Oh, this was a great idea!

I stabbed it profusely and heard Creed call "your aim is worse than a two year old being potty-trained for the first time!"

I don't know exactly what he was doing, but it seemed to work as the wyrmling began to plummet with me on it. I jumped from the wyrmling before it hit the ground, and tumbled for a few meters before laying spread out, huffing. I had several cuts and bruises from the sharp scales, and my hands burned. My face also felt moderately hot..

Creed came to my side and chanted;

"The Nock is down

And laced with lacerations

His hands are charred

But face baked to perfection.

Heal the wounds he suffered 

From a fight within the forest

So the only thing that hurts

Is the way he was embarrassed"

I felt my self heal, and muttered "you, haDumb... HUhDemon!"

When I recovered enough, Creed helped me stand, and we both went over to inspect the corpse.

"It's dead," I stated. "Did you kill it with insults?"

"Sort of- I can lace words with magic to make them psychically hurt."

After he said that, a ring of light surrounded each of us. It rose from my feet up to head, almost like a gas cloud that was somewhat malleable.

"Class up" Creed said, "a proper one."

I looked at my hands, and then around me. everything seemed slow, sluggish- as though immersed in jello. Then time sped up to normal, and I saw Creed next to me contemplating.

"Do you know another language?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Speak it for a second."

I spoke in the archaic language that had been passed down through generations of tradition.

Creed told me to stop for a moment, took out his flute and played a tune, and then told me to speak again. I did, and he spoke back to me.

"Is that a spell or something?" I asked.

"I just learn 'comprehend languages' from the class up," he confirmed.

"I'm not sure what I got from the class up."

"Well regardless," Creed said, "let's get the scales and what we can sell then head back."

I looked at the daggers that I had left imbedded in the body, which were now melted out of shape. Guess we'll be doing it by hand.

I put scales in the backpack until it was mostly full, then stated while slinging it onto my shoulder "I think it wouldn't be a good idea to put in any more. It might rip," to demonstrate my point, I jumped the backpack up, and when the straps landed again on my shoulders, they ripped, and because I still held the straps, the backpack flipped upside down and all the contents spilled out. And Creed laughed while saying over and over "I told you."

Thank you, Creed.