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Once upon a time, there was a powerful sorceress who had kidnapped a beautiful princess and locked her away in her witch’s tower, a dozen stories up, and never let her out. Many knights had made the attempt, only to be blasted by lightning or frozen by winds, or just plain trapped in boxes of invisible force before they even got close.
That, Lady Kima decided, wasn’t going to deter her from having a go. That was the sort of thing true heroes did - they succeeded where others had failed. After all, it wouldn’t be a dragon’s den if there weren’t a few bones scattered about the mouth of the cave (or a few lightly singed suits of enchanted armor in the dragon’s hoard).
First things first, Kima thought, befriend a giant eagle. Because a dozen human stories was twice as high to climb if you were a halfling, and frankly, fuck that, she decided. Besides, if you were meant to achieve a great quest, you’d meet the friends you needed along the way. And if you happened to be smart enough to take a slight detour through a mountain range famed for its giant birds as much as the ogres who liked to raid its giant bird nests, well, so much the better for you. And so much the worse for a valley’s worth of ogres, Kima thought, carefully cleaning thick, acrid blood from her greatsword.
And totally worth it, she decided later, peering down from the minareted tower to the ground below. “Okay,” she muttered, fixing her grappling hook into place on the world’s strangest weathervane and rappelling down to the nearest window, kicking right through, glass and wood and all, ducking into a combat roll and coming up, sword drawn.
“You’re paying for that,” observed the room’s only other occupant, voice feminine and cool. “As well as any damage to my arcane condenser.”
“Not a weathervane then,” Kima muttered, and to her delight, earned a smile from the other woman, a tall woman with her blonde hair in an elegant braid down her back. “Hang on, are you the witch, then? If you are, then hand over the princess, and nobody needs to get hurt!”
This drew another, less-welcome laugh. “I’m sorry, I promise, I’m not laughing at you - although you do cut a very charming figure, and that sword must be taller than you are. It’s just, well.” The human took in a deep breath, fully composed herself, and curtseyed. “I am Arcanist Allura Vysoren. I expect that tale was originally spread by some failed suitor of mine as, unfortunately for him, I prefer the magical arts to the company of men.”
“I, ahem, notice you didn’t say anything about the company of women?” Allura merely raised a pale eyebrow in response. “Anyway, I am Lady Kima, paladin in the service of Bahamut; pleased to meet you. And, if you don’t mind: what’s the deal with the tower? Not a lot of doors.”
Allura shrugged. “I have a flying carpet. Why bother with ground-floor entry?”
“Well, shit,” Kima muttered. “I should have gotten me one of those. That would have been way easier than making friends with a bird big enough to eat me. Speaking of which,” she craned her head out of the broken window and hollered “Never mind about picking me up!,” waving a farewell to her feathered friend.
Allura chuckled. “Sounds like quite the tale!” With a wave of her hand, one of the chairs adjusted itself to Kima’s height. “Why don’t you tell me about it, and then perhaps I’ll take you for a spin on the carpet?” Kima grinned, settled into the easy chair with a pleased sound, and began to regale her new friend with her adventure against the ogres.