As the sun began to rise over the horizon, beginning to bask the grassy plains in a warm, red glow, the break of dawn found a lone wanderer across the plains, parting the short grass lightly with heavy black boots, one of but four parts of his attire that wasn't white.

Well, not quite lone, not since that day a week previously in the mountains, at the most unexpected of times, the most unexpected of situations. Crawling along at his side was a small pink dragon with a certain purple tinge, dragging itself along the soft ground with its sole pair of legs, greenish wings flapping lightly from time to time, catching a calm wind. A hatchling, which had taken to the first creature it had seen upon hatching as its parent, which happened to be the demon Lance.

Not that one could immediately tell he was a demon, more likely assuming he was half-demon, given the mostly human appearance. The only things that gave it away were his slightly tattered, almost draconic, jet-black wings and tail, and his single left eye, the other covered by his headband, which was crimson red and slitted.

Realizing finally where he was, he found himself at the edge of a small village, one he'd been to a few times previously, all fairly uneventfully. A light sigh escaping his mouth, he looked down to his young dragon before proceeding.

"Well, looks like we found a good place to rest...come on, Tiridae," he said, his voice light, not at all befitting of a demon, but then this wasn't his true form, so it stood to reason. Receiving a small nod and a light screech in reply, he smiled slightly, a small rise at the corner of his mouth. At first, he'd been wary to take on a young creature like this, but she'd proven to be useful to him, and fun to have around, instead of just being alone all the time. A handful when she was hungry, granted, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Wandering steadily into the confines of the village before kneeling down and allowing Tiridae to give a few flaps of her wings, coiling herself loosely around his neck atop his shoulders to avoid the possibility of her being stepped on, he proceeded into the village, glancing around for anything of interest, unconsciously avoiding people even when they were on his blind right side.

Estolad Village, what many would consider the pinnacle of peace and laziness. A nice little farm town, full of simple folk doing simple things. How could anyone hold any contempt for such a place? It was almost unthinkable. But why then, did the somber halfdragon Ayaker Buceg sit upon a crate, in a rather foul mood? It wasn't that he was angry at the village, or anything. This place held a lot of significance to Ayaker.

It was in the village 18 years ago that Ayaker's own mother, charmed by a noble looking gentleman, was then taken advantage of and robbed of her innocence. The offending man, wasn't actually a man it was learned, but a dragon in a mock human form. Ayaker's mother, at a tender age of 24, was impregnated from the Ordeal, and the result of this ill-begotten pregnancy was Ayaker himself. Thankfully Ayaker's mom had loved her son despite the conditions of his birth, but Ayaker still held a grudge towards his father. Perhaps it was because that he had never met his father, that Ayaker wanted information on him. He was his only living relative, and fiend or not, he wanted some information on the dragon who had raped his mother and abandoned his own child. Most people would think that a dragon would be a fierce beast, majestic and unrivaled in it's boldness. The only dragon Ayaker knew of was a cold hearted coward.

Ayaker sat there, holding his Double Bladed Mercy in his hand, and examined himself in the reflection of the shining blade. In this form, no one could tell he was half dragon, and he seemed to pull it off so well. Why did he have to live life as a lie? Why did he have to hide his true nature from so many people? Ah yes, because of people like Sir Caius and Nathaniel Rystoff. The world was full of bigots, who were no kinder to a helpless innocent than a serial killer.

It was unusual of Ayaker to be in such a foul and pessimistic mood. He was usually quite the optimist, but being in this place seemed to bring out the worst in his attitude. He stood up slowly, realising that sitting here would not help him find any information about his father. He slowly began to walk along the path through Estolad. He got casual glances from the townsfolk as he passed, wandering eyes seeing yet another stranger pass through their village.

As he was walking, he happened to bump in to someone, unaware of the direction he was walking. "Sorry." he said, before looking at the man he had bumped in to. The man was dressed in all white, except for boots and a few other garments of clothing that were black. He had a blue eyepath on his eye, tied with a red string, giving him a rebelious look, like a mercenary. The most interesting thing that caught Ayaker's eyes however were his jetblack wings and tail. Was this man a halfdragon? No, he didn't seem like that type, he was a halfbreed though, that was certain. Ayaker looked down, and saw at the man's side a tiny pink dragon. It again struck Ayaker, as it did so often when he saw other dragons(pets mostly) that he felt almost an alienation from the dragon. Ayaker considered himself so much more human, that to see a bestial dragon made him question his own identity. He wasn't a beast afterall, he considered himself a person.

"Excuse me." Ayaker said to the man he had bumped in to. His bad mood was lessened somewhat by the prospect of company, and Ayaker felt compelled to introduce himself."I'm sorry to bother you, but it seems that you aren't from this village either. I'm Ayaker, and I'm here to do some detective work." He looked down at the dragon, and then back up at the man. "That's a fine dragon you have there."

Wandering mostly aimlessly through the crowd, letting his feet simply guide him wherever they would take him, Lance only vaguely noticed someone bump into him, a small impact at his shoulder, ceasing his movement for a moment. He could feel the small dragon across his shoulders stir a little, turning its gaze to the one that had bumped into the man it apparently considered its parent after a strange turn of events in the mountains.

"Sorry," the boy that had bumped into him apologized, taking in Lance's appearance and casting a glance at the dragon coiled once around his shoulders. Particularly since he had a dragon with him, it probably seemed like Lance himself was a half-dragon. He wasn't draconic in the slightest, or even mortal, but that didn't seem to bother the young dragon.

"Nice dragon you have there," the boy complimented.

"Yeah...found Tiridae here in the mountains as an abandoned egg and she seems to have taken to me since then, like I was her parent or something," Lance said, and the young dragon nodded happily in response. It had certainly proven interesting having a companion on his travels, though sometimes a little difficult in terms of taking care of her, getting her food and whatnot, things that he personally didn't have any need of.

Then the boy said something about doing some sort of detective work around the village. It was strange...for such a small, seemingly inconsequential place as Estolad was, a lot of things seemed to happen to it, a fair amount of mysteries surrounding it or places within it, as if fate wanted it to simply be more than it appeared on the surface.

But then mysteries and the like were things he'd had an interest in for quite some time. Something about them just drew him in, away from the normalcy of life, away from all that he knew into the realm of things he didn't know, of things many likely didn't know.

"Well, I can't guarantee I'd be the greatest at detective work, since I've never really tried it, but I've gotten fairly good at discovering secrets and the like in the more unusual places of the world, and I'm a former mercenary from years back, so I'm sure I could offer at least some assistance," he said, wondering what this 'detective work' was for, whether it was something personal to the boy or something he'd been hired or asked to do. Not that it really mattered to him, granted, but it was still a thought.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what is this 'detective work', exactly? What are you trying to find, or find out?" he asked, with the fact that he'd need to know what was supposed to be found or learned before he'd be of much use toward it.