Glitch

Nil had nothing.

He was a lost soul, cursed to a life of wandering, waiting for purpose. He'd once thought to join the ranks of the exalted, but he knew they would turn him away.

No god would want someone like him.

But two Imperials did. He was passing through a busy trading village when he saw the siblings. Bright, golden, their scales both shone like the sun. He didn't even realize he'd been staring until one looked up and stared back.

"Hey, stranger," the brother said. "You here for the job offer?"

"Job?" he'd managed to ask. Looking past the Imperials, he noticed a bulletin board with papers carelessly splattered all over.

The sister turned to face him, "A city in the Scarred Wastelands is offering a huge reward to any group who can survive in the wild with zero assistance. Something about collecting data on the effects of natural Plague magic. Says here that we need at least three dragons to register, though..."

The brother looked him up and down, "Well, you seem pretty strong. Want to be our third, stranger?" A jade-crusted hand now waited expectantly in front of him.

"It's Nil." And like a fool, he took it.

. . .

In his youth, Nil had been rather carefree. He had it all, a mate, loving parents, and three eggs due to hatch any day. He didn't pay much attention to the darkness of the world, because it didn't come near him.

Until the day his eggs hatched. He spent the day with his hatchlings, rather than being out and patrolling, so he didn't know what was coming until it was too late.

A hoard of violent Beastclan had surrounded their home, and there was no way out. His mate tried to flee, hatchlings in tow, but she was not quick enough. Nil was only able to make it out because of her, and he was forever in her debt.

His parents died that day, too, and it was then that Nil fled. He could not stay in a place with so many ghosts of the past, but soon after leaving he realized that the ghosts were not stuck in their old home, rather they had decided to follow him.

After meeting his group, though, he learned that he was not the only one with ghosts, but the difference was that they'd learned how to deal with their ghosts. It felt strange, but now Nil had hope, real hope that he'd be able to do the same.

Topaz wanted to help.

She saw the pain in her brother's eyes each time he brought up his children. She had none of her own, and she knew that she couldn't understand anything that Fenrir was going through. But that didn't change the fact that her brother was hurting, and she'd had enough.

"We're leaving," she told him. "Tomorrow, we're finding ourselves some small jobs, and we'll become nomads. No clan, no allegiance, just us against the world."

The next day they were off, and it didn't take long for them to find themselves at a trading village, where odd jobs ran abundant. It only took one glance at a bulletin board for her to find something.

'STRONG ADVENTURERS WANTED

The kingdom of Opovder is in need of a group of at least three (3) healthy dragons to journey into the Scarred Wastelands and survive on their own. The leading scientists are attempting to research the effect that natural Plague magic has on otherwise healthy individuals. We ask for a group as to not only give the scientists more research opportunities, but to also keep the adventurers safe.

Any adventurer who can survive the harsh conditions and assist our researchers will be granted 5,400,000,000 treasure, as well as a free home in the city (should they want it). Please contact any Opovder official as soon as possible if you would like to embark on this journey.

Best of luck,
King Cyperus.'

It was perfect. Now, they just needed to find a third.

. . .

Topaz was dead. Well, obviously not, but she'd come too close too many times. At the rate they were going, she was going to die, and there was noting they could do about it.

But the thought didn't bother her, well, not as much as it probably should've. She didn't want to die, she'd miss her brother and the strange friends they'd been making, but she knew that they could all manage on their own.

The only thing that really scared her was the thought of anyone else dying. They all had their own problems, their own ghosts (as Nil referred to them), and Topaz was determined to let her friends work through them and come out victorious. Everyone deserved that right before they died, and it didn't matter what the world threw at them, Topaz was going to make sure her friends got it.

No matter the cost.

Fenrir was tired.

Every step he took, he felt his world crumbling. His false paradise he'd created, where things were stable just long enough for him to get used to it, was crumbling. He just wanted to get away from it all, to leave it all behind.

His sister gave him his escape. They'd left in the night, and soon found the most lucrative job around. Problem was, they needed a third to do it. The pair had searched through the crowd, to no avail. But then, a Wildclaw appeared.

He looked lost, in every sense of the word. Regret filled his every motion, and for a moment Fenrir was horrified, because when he saw those lifeless pink eyes, he saw a mirror of what he could of been. But then that fear subsided, because he knew he'd found someone special.

He'd offered the stranger, Nil, an invitation to join their group. With introductions done, the three planned to depart for Opovder by nightfall. And with every breath Fenrir took that was away from his old life, he felt lighter. He just hoped that maybe, Nil could feel that way, too.

. . .

For all the hardships his new life had, Fenrir was actually beginning to enjoy the strangeness his life now offered him. It was weird, but he loved the thrill of a fight, and the feeling of being able to protect his friends.

Unlike before, he wasn't living a lie. He had real relationships with people, with his group. They could all rely on each other, and they all seemed to be working through their own issues. Other than the constant threat of death, things were almost ideal.

But Fenrir wasn't an idiot. The group was in a strange sort of stasis, where things were constant and not much changed, but soon something would. It would only take a light push, and soon, it would end. The thought was terrifying, that something could be taken away in just a moment's notice.

Maybe that's what made it so good, though. The knowledge that it would end, that it was only temporary, maybe that's what made something beautiful. That's what Fenrir was trying to believe, anyway. For now, though, he was going to fight his hardest to protect what he had. Because he had strength, and he could do something with it.

Sengar hated the water.

It made her fur heavy and she could never fly until her fur was dry. Or perhaps she didn't mind that, perhaps she was just looking for an excuse to leave home. Either way, she ventured to a small village on the west coast, looking for a way to avoid water for the rest of her days.

She found it in a strange job offer and two strangers. On the first day in the Scarred Wastelands, they both were hit with a sudden illness, showing itself in putrid boils across the face and limbs. Not wanting to to share their fates, Sengar fled in the night.

She later ran into another group, consisting of two Imperials and a Wildclaw. They'd taken up the same job, and offered their condolences when she told them about her former teammates. The male Imperial instantly offered her a place in their group instead, and she found herself accepting without a second thought.

Perhaps it was fate that brought Sengar to the team, or the Plaguebringer's will, or perhaps just plain luck (though one should wonder whether it's good or bad). It didn't matter to Sengar, though, because she'd found herself a new home in these harsh lands and her strange group.