The Hunter’s Scars
The Hunter’s Scars burn stories

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Two bored drunks make some guesses about a stranger.

The Hunter’s Scars

In Old Earth, long before the takeover of man, there was a pub. It sat in a small village, one where there were few people with very little to do other than whisper gossip.

It is for this reason that the pub was always full, drunkards wanting nothing more than to excite their day with a beer and some good gossip.

This evening’s gossip was turned on the newcomer sitting in the corner of the bar. He wore a hood over his face but it did little to hide the burn marks melting his face.

“He’s a dragon hunter,” said Elizabeth, the village’s school teacher. She was tipping on her chair, two beers too many in her system. “Now what makes you say that, Miss Lizzy?” asked Boras, an old farmer that only wandered into town once the cattle was fed.

Elizabeth pointed at the man. “Look at his coat! The pin!” she said. All eyes went to the stranger and, sure enough, there was a black pin on his cloak, a mark of a true dragon hunter.

Boras raised his pint to Elizabeth. “For being drunk, your eyes are pretty keen, Miss Lizzy.” Elizabeth smirked but it vanished as a tall shadow cast over her and Boras.

As they looked up, they found the same man they were gossiping about standing by their side. He had snuck up on them, quiet as a mouse. His face was a mask and the two drunks rocked in their seats, not sure if they should run or not.

“You want to know the origin of these scars?” the stranger asked and he reached into his cloak. Elizabeth and Boras presses themselves against the bar, fearing the terrible sword that was sure to be pulled.

But...there was no sword. In its place was a small baby dragon with purple scales and wide green eyes. It purred in the hunter’ hand, chewing carefully on a few fingers with its toothless mouth.

“This,” the stranger began. “Is Mora, I rescued her and her mom from a group of hunters.” The stranger set Mora on the bar and she sniffed playfully at Elizabeth and Boras. “Momma is penned outside, sleeping off some pain medication.”

Elizabeth and Boras took a look at the pin on the stranger’s chest. Though it looked like a hunter’s pin from far away. Up close, it was clearly a fake. There were no jewels and the cut was wrong. Still it was a decent disguise, perfect for sneaking up on unsuspecting hunters.

“Some dragons I rescue fear humans,” the stranger said as he pointed at his face. “Hence the scars.”

Elizabeth and Boras shared a look. They nodded to each other and then dragged over a chair, patting at it and ordering another round of drinks.

“Sorry about that,” Elizabeth said as she poked Mora’s nose. “Why don’t you put up your feet and have a drink on us?” Boras nodded. “Yes, he agreed. It’s the least we can do.”

The stranger smiled and took a sip of beer. “I suppose you’d be wanting a story or two? Elizabeth and Boras gave a nod. “But of course,” they agreed and they held up their beers, clinking them together as they celebrated the comings of some new entertainment.


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