The miners gathered round, a scrappy band of raiders. They collected whatever weapons they could, which ranged from wooden clubs to state-of-the-art firearms. Viking stood amongst them and scanned them. He never realized how...diverse this quarry was. Humans, demi-humans and even some intelligent trolls were amongst the group. Viking hadn't seen anything like it. It was...a nice change of pace. He held his two axes firmly in his grasp; fresh blood dripped down from their worn yet sharp edges. He looked on forward amongst torches and burning barricades to see the Foreman, who clearly didn't seem to be in the right state of mind.
"To-DAY...is a foul day. To-DAY...we had people we cared for, who we LOVED! Taken away from us. WE WERE SUBJECT TO HIS ATROCITY...by none other than Jedidiah Augustus. Son of Fargo Augustus and heir to Augustus Foundries. And, it is with my great pleasure, that I ANNOUNCE TODAY THAT WE ARE NO LONGER GOING TO BE PUSHED AROUND BY THAT SCUMBAD NO MORE! To-DAY LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I TELL YOU that if you join me, you SHALL GET YOUR VENGEANCE. I tell you, you SHALL GET TO SEE JEDIDIAH AUGUSTUS' HEAD ROLL!"
The crowd cheered, raising their fists and weapons and voices in patriotic energy. The roar of the flames illuminated Pastal's bloody, smirking face. "So I say to you, my fellow brethren. Take up your arms, follow me, and bring DOWN THE IRON DEMON ONCE AND FOR ALL!"
The crowd cheered and screeched. They marched on, chanting, cheering and amplifying each other's spirits. Viking was carried by the mass of bodies pounding the ground beneath their feet. In the starless night, in the icy fog and between jagged trees marched a sea of fire and blood and vengeance.
Darkness. That's all Wolf could say. Well, that's what he could mostly see. He was at the end of a row of prison cells, a stairway on the horizon. The faintest glow of orange could be seen, probably for a guard. There weren't any others in the cells. At least, none that were living. The darkness, the unforgiving cold, the wet and stony ground, and the mocking moonlight reminded him of Rabier's dark, disgusting dungeons. His mind wandered off to those times. The times when he and his friends were weak. At the mercy of that disgusting sadist. He wondered if Juno was alright, or Razor or Raphtalia. He prayed for their safety every single day. In his mind, he saw that wiry mustache, that mustard hair, and lardy cheeks. His eyes grew red with bloodlust. He bared his fangs and struck at the image before him. A clank of iron echoed down the hall. Wolf kept on forgetting he was tied up. Iron cuffs for his hands, attached to the wall. And his legs were tied in some sort of iron gallows. Or what is...no, it was silver. He sighed and shook his head. He was a demi-human, NOT a werewolf.
A wave of the night air gushed over him, biting like frostbite at his wound. Wolf whimpered and tried to fidget his hands free to once-again no avail. He could only hear half as well as he used to. Sure, he did still have ears like humans did, like all demi-humans did. But his demi ears were something special. They separated him from humans and Demi's alike. His wolf ears were some of the most acute sensors in the known world. Nothing got past them. He even heard the attackers march a mile out before they got to the camp. He still cursed and kicked himself. He couldn't fend them off. And now...now he got Gazef killed. Now he got so many others killed, for his incompetence.
This all reminded him of that day. The day when the monsters came from the sky. One by one they fell; like angels falling from heaven. The sky became a dark red, much like the walls and streets of his village as friends and family and friends of family were hacked and sliced and slaughtered like pigs. He heard them, but he never told anyone. Then the day cleared up. Juno and Razor and Raphtalia...poor Raphtalia. He wished to hug her again and tell her everything is alright. Wolf remembered the darkness on his friends' faces. On everyone's faces. He remembered looking at the mountains and trees where the knights should've come. And then he heard them again. He heard the stammer of horses, and the crack of wagons and the rattle of cages. The kind of cages you keep a chicken in. But these were much bigger. Their rattling was much bigger. He could've warned the village. He could've saved so many people from death, from agony. But he didn't, and now...now all those people, all his friends...they were subject to misery. They were at the mercy of a devil. Was this his was of repent? Was the loss of his gift the way he could seek redemption for what he did? For how he neglected his gift? How he neglected his people?
He always wanted to repent. Wolf never liked getting off scot-free. He needed to repent to Juno, Razor, Raphtalia and the others. But he wouldn't be able to if he couldn't get out of this cage.
Wolf breathed in. "Moon that shines its brightest with my howl, ascend my spirit for my great hunt ahead." Wolf's eyes turned blood-red. His muscles twitched and he bared his fangs once more. His claws arched and his fur grew out, grey and grizzled. He enclosed his hands to fists and howled until his throat bled raw. With a crash, his shackles broke free. The clank of metal echoed throughout the halls. He listened closely with his only ear left. There was...no guard? Where did he even go? While certainly interesting questions to ask, he didn't have time to care about the answer. His wrists were dripped crimson blood, and his feet were still bound. He opened up his jaw, and bit down onto the metal. The iron shackling him down was hard, but his teeth were harder. More pressure, more force. More, more. More howling, until blood ran from his mouth. A tooth cracked and started to bleed, and another pierced his gums. That didn't matter. Just bite down harder and harder. "Harder...HARDER!"
The iron snapped against his jaw, releasing wolf from his prison. He yanked out the broken and jagged teeth. It hurt badly, but it was for the better. His wrists and mouth were bleeding now, leaving a trail of blood for his capturers to lead them to him. He needed bandages. He needed water. He needed a weapon. "Pack leader of the hunting grounds, grant me the strength of a hundred of our kin." Wolf's eyes turned a sapphire blue, and while his claws weren't as sharp and his fangs weren't as jagged and his fur not as wild, his muscles tensed with raw adrenaline. He grasped the iron bars of his cell tightly and yanked them open. The blue of his eyes died back down into his usual golden pupils, and he fell to his knees. Tiring work, calling upon the gods. But he needed to get out of here. He needed to...to...wait, where would he go after this? He couldn't go back...he couldn't face his brothers...he couldn't face Beezelbub after what he did. Just grab a weapon, some bandages and go. Think of the rest later.
He crept along the hall silently. He peaked up the staircase to see a guard, asleep and with a bottle in hand. "(Why are guards in these castles always so useless)" he walked up silently to the soldier and saw one a few bottles lying around. One of them was broken, which was no doubt the fault of the little happy hour this guy was having. He picked up the broken bottle and shoved it into guard's neck. He awoke suddenly, gagging and gasping for air, but only finding blood. He looked into the eyes of the Wolf that hunted him, and the Wolf watched on as blood poured onto the bottle and out his mouth. The guard weakly grabbed at the bottle in his throat. Blood poured onto his gloves, which now could only the stroke the shard with the strength left. With one final gagging plea, Wolf watched the light fade away from the man's eyes. His body fell back into his chair, his eyes as moist as his throat. Wolf dragged the body back into his cell and took the clothes and weapons of the dead man. Not the highest point in his life, but he had to survive the February night somehow. With clothes on his back, a sword at his side and blood on his hands, Wolf made his way through the halls of the Augustus Mansion.
Augustus Mansion. As pretty as a palace, as majestic as a mansion, and yet as carefully constructed as a castle. The thing was guarded like a fortress. A pain for Pastal for sure, but he always had a way. Behind him, he heard the rolling of a carriage make its way towards him.
"Boss, we got the stuff"
"Good, was there any trouble?"
"Well, yes. But it was sorted out quickly after Viking stepped in."
"Good man. Ok, everyone gather around. I've conducted a plan I think you'll all quite like to hear..."
Ahh the lights. Bright shining lights. The crystal chandeliers reflected their warm glow on the golden curtains and white walls. Sturdy, shiny spruce floorboards and a thick 3-inch glass overview of the world beyond. This was the Augustus family's dining room, and tonight there was a celebration.
Augustus Industries. One of the biggest importers of coal and equally as big an exporter with iron. Iron was the lifeblood of the business. Manufactured iron, processed iron, iron goods. The lot. And now was a greater time than any to be exporting iron. Yes, the military needed it for rapid expansion, especially with overseas affairs. However, the biggest moneymaker currently were the waves. Everyone needs iron. Everyone needs a sword and a shield and a breastplate to survive. From Faubley to Melromarc to Shieldfreeden to Stilvet. Each of the 4 nations needed iron, and it just so happened to be that Augustus Industries could supply everyone with all the iron they could need.
But today wasn't about iron, it was about family. A celebration. Pregnancy. A new beautiful baby boy or girl was on the way, and the Augustus family was here to celebrate. A table stretched 10 meters long that occupied dozens of Augustus family members across 4 generations. Servants popped in and out serving up freshly made dishes and desserts. A feast, a celebration. Happiness and hope filled the air as the family chatted away about such and such. Then, the head of the Augustus family stood up, clanking his wine glass to bring attention.
Fargo Augustus. Sure, he was old and wrinkly, but he stilled look at least 10 years younger for his age. Wise, methodical in his actions, and a man who loved life. But never above moral corruption. After all, that is the trait of any good man of business, at least in his eyes. He took a small sip of wine to clear his throat. Knowing him, he'd probably preach all night.
"Ladies, gentleman and esteemed guests. You know what? Forget that. My family, I am overjoyed to welcome you all here today for a grand celebration. I'd like to start off by thanking our hard-working staff for making this occasion just that much more special. I do recommend you all try the Zeltoble wine before Markus get his hands on it"
A roar of laughter erupted from the room, including from the man himself who was already on his 5th glass. "Now, I know we live in...hard times. The waves make it hard for us to feel safe, and politics is being as nasty as always. So I do believe indulging in good food and drink with good company is essential now more than ever. But, to some of us, these times are more magnificent. Such as my favorite, and only son, Jedidiah."
A round of applause came from the room as Jedidah smiled with a small blush. One hand was wrapped around the love of his life, and with the other he stroked her small but slowly growing belly.
"T-Thanks Dad"
"We wish you all the best son. Now, for tonight I ask you one thing. One rule, one command. Enjoy yourselves!"
Applauds and cheers came from the room, and soon music started to flood the halls. Jokes and exotic crackers were cracked alike. So many specialties both local and foreign. Sticky Honey Roast. Han Fried Chicken. Almond Tofu. Melted Butter Cookies. They tasted as good as they sounded and smelt. A whole bible could be written on the amount of specialties were served at tonight's feast. Truly a symbol of Faubley wealth.
Wolf smelt the Honey Roast from his stealthy escapades. That was his signature dish. Not to say his cooking was bad, but his Sticky Honey Roast could be served to a god. He whimpered at the growls that ripped into his stomach. He was starving and needed food, despite the bloody mouth. He waltzed around the kitchen, which was a complete no-go. No way he could sneak into there and just grab stuff. His best bet was the pantry. Nothing gourmet that's for sure, but perhaps a smoked sausage and a bottle of Honeybrew mead could be nice. "Hmmm....honey..."
"Sorry?"
Wolf freezed up. "(Oh shit!)" he slowly turned his head to see a servant holding a tray of...of...
"Hello? Sir, did you say something?"
"Ahah y-yes! Is that the Lord's Sticky Honest Roast?"
"If you're referring to Lord Markus, then yes. He's been needing a constant-"
"Jenkins! Another order pronto!"
"Y-Yessir!" The servant stammered and spun around, almost tipping over the precious roast. Wolf caught it just in time, along with a fancy foreign wine he couldn't read the label of.
"Here, I'll take this to the Lord. You go and grab this dish, alright?"
"Y-Yes! T-Thank you so much I-I-"
"JENKINS!"
The servant nodded one more time and hastily sped off. Wolf did the same, but not in the direction of the party. He snuck inside some random storage area and locked himself in with a chair. It was...rather clean actually. "Not too bad if I do say so myself." Wolf sat down and dug into the Sticky Honest Roast. It was...just as good as he remembered it to be. He popped off that bottle of wine and started chugging it in-between stuffing himself of the stuff. He set down the Roast just for a moment to check inventory.
"Hmm...ok so I got an iron sword, a healing potion, and...what is this?" Wolf spun around a strange, orb-like object. He heard something swish around in there. It couldn't be a flask, or a potion. Did he...was he meant to throw it? "I'll...save this for later" He rummaged around the coat some more before coming across a small note. He opened the folded paper gently. It was a... drawing? It was rather crude. Stick figures and coloured crayon. A small figure with long blonde hair held the hand of...
"Oh no..."
There was some text on the bottom. Wolf, with shaking hands, read the extract word by painful word.
Dear Daddy
When Mommy went to take care of grammy and grampy, you always seemed sad.
But you were always there for me, and when I was there, you seemed to be happy.
So even if I can't be there with you, this can!
I love you Daddy. Be back soon!
"Oh....my... god..." Wolf put down the photo, and the jacket. "Oh my god...what have I done..."
"3...2...1...alright run run run!" hissed a worker. Pastal watched on as the walls crumbled down and shrapnel rained down from the sky. Viking led his army into the mansion. Cutting, slicing, serrating and slaughtering the guards. Cries rang out, and blood sprayed the grass-grown hedge sculptures. A massacre to be sure. Pastal chuckled at the predicament Augustus was in. Or at least, would find himself in soon enough. Rope was thrown down from the castlements, and Pastal and his group snuck their way into the castle, under the guise of the violent night.
"What's going on??"
"What's happening?"
"What was that explosion?"
"EVERYONE PLEASE SETTLE DOWN!"
" A-Are monsters attacking?!"
"Barricade the doors and call for more guards in here, now" whispered Fargo Augustus. The courier nodded and hurried out the door, barking orders to block the door behind him. The Augustus family huddled in small groups. Their worries and fears radicalized with every passing moment. The guards locked down the doors, making the predominant panic spread even further.
"J-Jedidiah...I'm scared..."
"It'll be ok my love. I'm sure this is just...an earthquake or some sort of disaster. We'll be fine"
"You promise?"
"I promise on my life, your life and the life of our unborn angel"
A shaky smile cracked from her quivering lips. Jedidiah held his beloved tightly in his arms. He was scared, but he couldn't show that now. He had to be strong. Not just for her, but for all three of them.
A loud and authoritative knock came from the door. "Sir, the guards you've sent have arrived!" cried the courier from behind the locked door. The guards started unbolting the iron bars that set the Augustus family apart from the chaos outside. Fargo watched as the iron bars were unbolted. They shrieked as they were flung apart from one another. His eyes wandered to the ground, where he saw a small pool of blood trickle from underneath the door.
"Wait don't-" he began in earnest. But he was too late. The final bar was unbolted.
Wolf trudged along the hallways. Silently sneaking, but ever alert. The hallways were darker here. Little light, nay for a warm glow coming from a room ahead. Shadows danced and laughter sang from the room. Probably some drunk guards. He crept his way up towards the door, his hands gently placed on the wall. The ignorant light hid away the blood on Wolf's hands, at least in the literal sense. He quietly made his way past, making sure not to step on a particularly squeaky floorboard.
"Ahh...man when are those guys gonna get back?"
"I told you not to hire Beasts. They're not known for their dealings."
"Like they'd steal something that valuable. We give them guns, and they give us a free ticket to the good life. It's a win-win situation."
"Are you sure your info is even any good?"
"Of course, it's good! The guy was THERE when Jedidiah walked into the place. They started to cut the crystal."
"Ugh...I'm pretty sure I heard that they were contracted to keep it intact"
"Yeah, that's the thing though! I heard that the company had gotten a contract with the Faubley military to supply the mass of new recruits with weapons. They couldn't afford to supply the guys with dynamite and wouldn't budge. They even got a contract with the Three Heroes Church!"
"Ok, now I know you're talking bullshit. Half those guys aren't even human, and you expect me to believe that shit?"
"Look, all I'm trying to say is don't worry about your 'investment'."
The guard huffed and swished his tankard around. "I wi-"
Before the guard could finish his sentence and his drink, a sword carved his skull in two. His friend took a moment to process what happened, which led to a demi-human slamming his fist into his throat. He tried to scream for help, but his body was too busy gasping for air.
"So...you're the one who attacked them."
The guard peered up at who it was. Wasn't that...Oh god...
Wolf grabbed the guard's head and smashed it against the wall. And he did it again, and again, and again.
"This...is for my friends...THIS ...is for my brothers...AND THIS IS FOR GAZEF YOU GREEDY, FAUBLEY FUCK!"
One final smash, and the guard's head popped like a water ballon. Blood and bits of brain and flesh dropped in large chunks to the floor, and Wolf's hands became even bloodier. He took a step back, wondering if he should be admiring his work or vomiting at the sight. But he didn't have such a luxury. He was thrown around the room as a large crash shock waved from upstairs. "W-What was.....No...it couldn't be..." Wolf looked around the room. More deaths, more blood on his conscience. On his hands. On his legacy. "Enough with this...enough with the blood...But...he deserved it." Wolf rocked in the fetal position, his head in his bloody hands. His eyes stung with salty tears, and his voiced sounded croaked like a dying frog. "I...I don't know what to do." But as he heard screams echoing throughout the halls of the mansion, his mind blanked back. Back to when the waves came. Back to when the slavers came. Back to when the raiders came.
He picked himself up, slipping from the cold alcohol and hot blood. Wolf, marinated in liquid death, ran out the room, and down the dimly lit halls. He had to make it before Pastal did something drastic.
The Iron-studded wooden doors were smashed open. Splinters spat out like shrapnel across the room, embedding themselves into the flesh of a few servants. The guards that were present charged at the smokey hallways, and were met with a mixture of clubs, swords, gunfire, arrows and stone-troll fists. They dropped to the floor dead with varying degrees of violence. Shrieks illuminated the fear on the family's faces as their eyes were frozen with fear at the sight of the brutish figures in front of them.
But a much more well-dressed gentleman stepped out of the fray. A decent suit and well-kept hair only spoiled by the blood dripping from his hands. Not to worry though, a stolen handkerchief from the piggish Markus Augustus would sort that out.
"Ladies and Gentleman, I am delighted to have made it to the party. I apologize for my late arrival, the invitation came a bit late."
"I-Invitation?" Whimpered one woman, holding onto her child for dear life.
"Oh yes, my dear. From none other than your heir Jedidah Augustus himself."
Gasps and whispered mumblings responded the accusation. "Jedidah...is this true?" demanded Fargo
"W-What? I never invited them. In fact I ended our contract once they broke it!" defended Jedidiah from accusing eyes.
"Oh, but you see you did invite me, Mr Augustus. You invited me when you raided my mine, burnt it to the ground, slaughtered my workers and kidnapped my boy. That, Mr Augustus, was your invite."
"N-No that wasn't-"
"I AIN'T DONE TALKING!" Pastal screamed, holding a loaded flintlock to the whimpering mother's face. Jedidiah shut his mouth up quickly after that. "I'm a man of faith, Mr Augustus. And I do believe one of our Father's texts stated, 'An eye for an eye'. And so, as any good man of faith should, I really should return the gesture. So watch on, Jedidiah Augustus, as I burn down your house. As I destroy your family's legacy. As I slaughter your loved ones. As I kidnap your son." Jedidiah's face snapped into anger at the mention of his soon-to-be family.
"I don't know WHAT you heard, Mr Beezelbub" asserted the heir, arising from the ground "And I am sorry, truly I am, for what happened at your mine. But don't you dare mix the facts here. I don't do murder. Not like any past Augustus'. Whoever raided your mine, they don't have any connection to me."
Pure madness boiled in Pastal's eyes. "DO YOU TAKE ME FOR SOME SORT OF FOOL JEDIDIAH? I SAW THOSE COATS. I SAW THOSE RIFLES. They were made by YOUR company. Such as this flintlock. And now, because of your arrogance, this corpse" Pastal aimed for the mother's head and a shot rang out. A screams and cries yelped out. Many to the front of Pastal, but some others from the back. Viking stumbled forward, not fast enough to catch the gun in time. But there was another that was faster. A flash of grey tackled Pastal to the ground, making the pellet ricochet.
"Argh! Who was-" Pastal flipped his body around to see some familiar grey eyes and a grey ear. "W-Wolf?! WOLF! OH GOD WOLF MY BOY!" Pastal wrapped his arms around his surrogate sound tightly, almost on the verge of tears. "Oh my boy my dear dear boy what did they do to you..." In his arms, he felt Wolf whimper and twitch. Pastal broke away from the hug to reveal where the bullet went. Right into his abdomen.
"No...N-NO! WOLF! OH MY...WOLF!" Pastal's eyes frantically searched around the room "Does anyone here know healing magic?" His request was met with blank stares "DOES ANYONE KNOW HEALING MAGIC DAMNNIT!" Again, blank stares were all he was given in return. With a boiling rage, and a thirst for bloodshed, Pastal yanked the child violently away from his screaming mother and placed a knife to his throat. "Heal my boy up NOW! Or else he won't be the only dead child here tonight!"
"PASTAL-" boomed the towering Northerner
"Don't Viking. Or else I'll slit his throat...I MEAN IT!" The mother screamed and cried and shouted for her child as she was held back by some goons. Pastal dragged Wolf's body over by the wall along with his hostage, crying out for his mama. "FIVE MINUTES, AND THEN I'M SLITTING THIS BOY'S THROAT!"
Fargo walked up to Pastal with haste, content with calling his bluff. "ENOUGH OF THIS! Return that boy at once!" Pastal grinned and sliced the cheek of the young boy, amping up the screams. "That was a taste. "Take one more step, any of you without a way to cure my son, and a little cut is the least of his worries."
"Mama!"
"I-It's ok Jeremy, mommy's here ok? You'll be fine baby just look at mommy!" Through teary eyes he tried to find comfort in his mother's face, but was blocked by a bloody knife.
"Pastal, put the boy down. I'm the one you want, not him" negotiated Jedidiah, slowly creeping his way towards him.
"I WANT MY BOY CURED! GET ME A HEALER DAMMNIT!"
"Joshua, search for the doctor" ordered Fargo
"He's dead. I saw his body on the way here" commented Viking
"Well THAT'S JUST BLOODY GREAT!" screamed Fargo.
"GIVE ME BACK MY SON!"
"MAMA!"
"HEAL MY BOY DAMMNIT!"
P-Pas...tal...
Pastal lowered his head to his dying son. Blood gushed from his stomach like a fountain. His head was turned to lock eyes with him. No life...no love...no happiness...
"Put...the....boy d...down..."
Pastal's eyes quivered. The hand that held the knife to the child's throat stared to wobble with a weak grip. "B-But... But you'll...I..."
"Don't...be...be a...a monster...in my final moment..."
"No...no no no no..."
"Augustus...didn't...do...it..."
Pastal Beezelbub, through tears, begged for an answer. But there was no reply. He crumbled to the floor, begging and begging for him to wake up. But Wolf's eyes stood blank. There was nothing to awake from, when there was only darkness in his eyes. The boy rushed over to his mother, and hugged her tightly. The two of them cried together in each other's arms. Finally reunited.
"Wolf..." whimpered Pastal. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry my poor, poor boy. I'm so sorry for what I did to you..." He scooped up the lifeless body into his arms and staggered his way through debris and blood. "I...I'm sorry about what happened here. Take the crystal. Everything is yours." A final act of materialistic redemption, as he trudged his way through a sea of dumbfounded miners.
Huh... I almost feel bad myself. Didn't think those beastmen would go on such a rampage. At least we can still use the crystal.
Pastal stopped in his tracks, his silouette hung in the doorframe. "I'm sorry...what was that?"
The family members stared at the broken man, a chill going up their spine.
"Sorry?" asked Fargo, stroking the pistol he snatched from behind his chair.
"Yeah...you. You said that, didn't you?"
Fargo chuckled nervously "I-I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't say a word."
"It was you..." Pastal turned around, blood staining his clothes from the bloody cub in his arms "You sent them...didn't you?"
"Sent who?" I don't what you're talking about"
The man smiled warmly at Pastal. The two locked eyes for a moment, and a flash of light sparked in Pastal's eyes. The foreman huffed and shook his head with a smile. "Must've been in my head" he joked, keeping his gaze on Fargo as he violently exploded. Blood and bits showered the room, leaving everyone in a gory shock. What followed was a firework show of human bodies. Heads, torsos, entire figures randomly exploding. Pop went Markus' head. Bam went the right side of Fargo's wife's body. Workers, servants and aristocratic family members alike rushed out of the room in panic and fear. Sometimes escaping death, and other times escaping life. Pastal gave a glance at Jedidiah, and then to his wife. He screamed and dived in front of her, and Pastal merely smiled. But before more blood could be shed, his body was smashed into the ground. A huge, violent fist stood shaking where Pastal's body used to stand. Everyone in the room stood still, in shock, in fear, in relief.
"What...the FUCK...just happened" panted Jedidiah