Angel's Weren't Meant To Be Slaves. Welcome To Hell, Master. *Completed*

[27] Lycan Revolt

Lord Eric Baylish P.O.V.

Denfold City, Grosselheim, Lycan Penitentiary

Thunder boomed and growled as it rolled across the sky over the city of Denfold. It resides in the very center of Grosselheim, and everyone knows about what a tough lot these Denfold folk truly are. Most of the men here grow up to be Lycan hunters, a hugely respected trade in this area as centuries ago, this entire place had once been overrun by with these savage beasts.

Sitting alone in my office at the Lycan Penitentiary, the only constant light comes from the few candles that had been scattered around my desk and a few shelves close by and two torches that were lit on either side of the door. It was enough light to look over all of the reports lying in haphazardly organized piles before me.

The occasionally flicker of light from the lightning outside lit up the entire room and it was nothing fancy to look at. Being the highest-ranking officer in this castle, it was well set enough with all of the extra luxuries that one man could ever need. The floor is stone and bare of any carpets, not that having one would be any good with all of the muddy boots of soldiers constantly coming into the room to give status reports and such. The walls were covered in a couple of large tapestries, showing magnificent battles between Humans and Lycan's. On the opposite, left side of the wall there were portraits of previous Commanding Officers lining it.

Soon, the wall would carry my portrait as well. And under it would say, Lord Eric Baylish, Commanding Officer, First Rank. Oh what a day that will be.

A large crack of thunder sounded, reminding the world that it was still there and raging on, long into the night.

Running a hand back through my short cropped, dark brown hair, I sighed and reverted my attention back down to my work. Leave it to me to leave the most boring and mind-numbing paperwork until this late at night. It must be well past midnight by now.

I rubbed a hand over my eyes and down my face, over the short stubble that had grown in on the lower half of my face over the course of the long day. Picking up the paper directly in front of me, I started to read the soldier's report.

Reporting Officer: Edward Stone

Date and Time: September 8th, Half past 2 at night.

Incident:

This is the third attack threat this week that started at such a late hour. A small party of no more than 6 rogue Lycans were scouting the perimeter of the southwest wall. They howled to their brothers and sisters inside and this created quite a disturbance. Strong attempts were made by #0 of our best men to capture these beasts but all was futile. The Lycans once again did not attack, only threatened and scoped the area, howled and retreated back to their mountain cave domains.

Another bright flash of light filled the room and shortly after, a loud rumble of thunder shook the land.

This is the exact type of incident that has been happening more and more as of late and it was not just from this post of the penitentiary wall either. No, these reports were coming in from every one of the 8 wall posts.

The rogues were angry that so many of they're brothers and sisters were being held here against their wills. But it cannot be helped because they deserved it for killing so many innocent Humans that even I cannot believe the numbers.

These scouting rogues must be trying to find a weak sport in the wall in order to free them.

Lycans are a creature from nature. More of a mistake if you will. So perhaps they are waiting for their lady, Mother Nature, to help them and that is why they do not attack. They were waiting for her help, listening to her guidance as she spoke to them through the wind and looked down upon them from the moon as they call up to her.