Gideon watched the alpha bear thrash about as Rick's flames consumed not only the monster but also the surrounding bushes.
The smell of burnt flesh and resinous wood filled the air, but Gideon felt not the slightest remorse for the destruction of the clearing. He wiped a drop of sweat from his perfectly smooth forehead, a trait of his Rare Elf Race, and adjusted his cloak bearing the stylized eagle emblem.
"Rick, ease up on that fire, you imbecile!" Gideon shouted, his voice sounding melodious due to his elven biology, yet distinctly coarse, a stark contrast to his noble appearance. "The blacksmith wants the hide intact. If you char the skin, he'll dock our pay. It's three silver coins per head! Do you have any idea how many wretched kobolds we had to skin in that filthy Novata Village just to get a single silver coin?"
