A Story Less told (The Legend of Greg) Book 1 of 2

Chapter 3: Fate in Small Packages

A quiet woods shuttered with the faint hiss of an arrow and the screech of something being hit. A blur of movement dropped from a nearby tree and rustled through the brush. Suddenly, from the calm silence came a rush of leaves as a wounded deer made its escape into the foggy morning light. A small face popped up from the brush.

"Damn...why do I ever think it will go down swiftly?" she sighed, brushing her shoulder-length green locks out of her way and adjusting her rather ample breasts to fit in her awkwardly tight armor. It was clearly not made for her build, evident from the numerous adjustments that were crudely stitched to its seams. She drew a sword from her back, longer than her own torso and rested it against a tree so she could peel off the corset-tight armor. She let out a sigh of relief as the strange material detached from the ordinary clothes she had on underneath. She packed up the armor, carrying her heavy sword like a walking stick as she trudged along, following the blood of her prey.

At the cusp of the water, a wounded deer stumbled its way to the edge to drink and rest. She crept up slowly, debating on weather or not to wait it out or suit-up and finish her off. The growling of a wolf got her attention as the deer hunkered down. No time to suit-up now. She readied her oversized sword and expected to be assaulted by teeth and claws. She needed to eat, and arrows do not grow on trees, so she ran out of the brush and swung the massive blade to scare off the wolf. It howled and snarled at her, peering down its nose as she looked up at the wall of fur and fangs that towered like a dragon, hunkered down and still eye-level with her.

"My dinner" she muttered. "Wanna be the second course?" she growled back. The beast held its ground but did not seem interested in attacking her rather than guarding the deer from another rival.

"Titus! DOWN!" hollered a voice from behind as a rather jolly fat-man waddled into her view. The great beast whimpered and backed away. He stopped and peered down at her, like a giant of legend, with his scruffy attire and his portly belly.

"What's a little thing like you doing in my woods?" he chuckled, trying to pat her on the head. She swatted his hand away.

"Getting my deer." she said aggressively.

"Any deer on my land is my deer, even a little runt like this." he said poking the dead doe with his foot.

"I shot it, and it died by my arrow. That makes it MY deer, regardless of where it ran before it died. If you want me off your land then you could help me move it off YOUR land quicker than I can alone." she said, crossing her arms.

"Feisty little thing, I'll give you that. Where in the realms did you get such a nice sword?" he asked, noticing the expensive hardware.

"A gift from an admirer." she bluffed.

"No, I don't think so. That is an Elvin light-infantry sword, not designed for you. You look all Dwarf to me, so it wasn't your father's sword, and if he had the money to afford it, he would have bought you one a little better suited to your size. Matches your armor, so I'm guessing that doesn't fit you either. Did you rob a very wealthy dead soldier, or did you rob an Elvin armory?" he asked.

"Okay, I liberated it. The man was already dead, the horses gone, and whoever caused the mayhem was not concerned with riches because he didn't check the underside of the wagon where the rich people keep the best goods. I only know that because my father made wheels for the wagons and I was very good at working in small spaces." she said, giving up any act.

"Like the treasure pouches and hidden locks. That I might believe. Tell you what, you can have half the deer for the trouble and leave half for myself since this is my land." he said reaching out to shake.