Post by Morec0
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Gilneas Moon (Part 6). ))
The worgen that had formerly been Ivan and Blaine Jeret strode into the harbor town, walking past the worgen as if he belonged here. The other worgen knew the beast that Blaine had once been, but the brown-furred worgen they did not recognize. They sniffed the air, trying to discern if they had smelt his scent somewhere else.
They started to growl as they quickly realized that he did not belong here but they did not attack him, he was far too large and clearly far too strong for them to risk a fight. The beasts merely watched as he approached a large – just as large as the worgen Ivan had become, in fact – worgen with black fur wearing leathers and surrounded by a large number of female worgen.
The black-furred worgen snarled at him. “You aren’t one of my pack,” the barks and growls he let out roughly translated to. “Who are you? What right do you have to intrude on the land of Bloodfang Packs.”
The brown-furred worgen barred his teeth, sizing up the other male. “
Bloodhowl,” he growled back with unmistakable confidence. “And you?”
“Bloodfang,” the black worgen – full name Ivar Bloodfang – growled back. “Now leave before I have you slain.”
Bloodhowl merely laughed at the Alpha of the Pack that surrounded him. “No.”
Bloodfang glared at the brown-furred one. “Very well,” he snarled. “Painfang!”
The white worgen that Blaine had become looked between Bloodfang – his Pack Alpha - and Bloodhowl – his brother – then shook his head. “
No,” he growled.
Bloodfang snapped his jowls at Painfang and barked as loud as he could, commanding the white worgen to attack the brown one; but still he refused. The fur on Ivar’s mane stood on edge in rage. “Slaughter! Frenzy!” Two worgen, one a female with reddish-brown fur the other a male with dark-grey fur, charged towards Bloodhowl from either side. The first to reach him was the male, Slaughter, Bloodhowl turned to face him, grabbing the arm Slaughter tried to slash at him with in his jaws and biting down on it until the bone broke. He then took the male’s head in his hands and twisted it until his spine broke off from his skull.
He then spun away from the corpse and jumped back as Frenzy, her mouth foaming with rage, slashed at him again and again and again. After some time dodging the attacks Bloodhowl found an opening and grabbed her arms with his hands. She then tried to sink her fangs into the flesh of her opponent’s right arm, only to have her own arm moved to have her bite down on it instead. Bloodhowl then let go of Frenzy’s left arm and grabbed her throat with his right hand, lifting her into the air. As he strangled her he took note that she was wear only the shreds of what had once been a shirt and pair of pants.
Bloodhowl liked what he saw, and so, after letting loose a bark that told her to not get up again, he threw her as hard as he could to the ground. Frenzy, however, would not be beaten so easily. With a howl that bordered on sounding unholy she jumped back to her feet and charged Bloodhowl, only to be backhanded with so much force that she was also knocked unconscious. Bloodhowl snarled at her to stay down and this time she obliged. The brown-furred male then howled a blood-curdling howl, which sounded even more disturbing than Frenzy’s had, to make his victory that much more apparent.
Bloodfang seemed shocked that the two he had dispatched to kill this intruder had failed so easily. “I warn you once more,” Ivar snarled, his massive muscles rippling underneath his fur, “
leave or
die.”
Bloodhowl just laughed again at the other worgen’s threats, enraging the grey worgen further. With a howl that sounded more natural than Frenzy’s or Bloodhowl’s had, he charged the brown one. Bloodhowl stood his ground, bracing himself as if ready to make a great leap, and waited. When Ivar was merely a foot away from him, Bloodhowl launched himself at him, knocking the black-furred worgen to the ground. Using all the strength he could muster he held the Alpha Male to the ground, snarling and bringing back and then sending forward a clawed hand of a paw to slash out his throat. Before the blow could land, however, Bloodfang caught it with his own hand and twisted it, breaking the bone easily.
Snarling in pain but undeterred, Bloodhowl slammed a fist into Bloodfang’s chest, knocking the air from the other worgen’s lungs and allowing him to free his broken hand – which he then continued to use to slash at Ivar’s throat. The wound was not as deep as it would have been if his arm had not been broken however, and so was non-fatal but was bleeding badly. Barking in fury, he kicked Bloodhowl from off of him and then stood, holding the wound. It had stopped bleeding already, and if one had taken a close look they would have seen that it was already starting to slowly heal. Bloodhowl had no want to get a closer look at the healing wound; he just wanted the other male to die.
With another blood-curdling howl, he charged the black worgen, claws ready to shred and fang ready to tear. Bloodfang braced himself for the impact of the other worgen’s tackle, managing to hold his ground when the body of the brown-furred beast smashed into him. He grabbed Bloodhowl’s arms to keep him at a distance, both worgen’s claws digging into the flesh of one another.
Finally Ivar managed to get the strength and footing to shove the brown worgen away, his opponent’s claws leaving long cuts in the Alpha Male’s wrists. Bloodhowl skidded to a stop and then charged Bloodfang again. This time, however, Bloodfang dodged away from the attack, swinging two fists onto Bloodhowl’s back, the force of the blow breaking the brown worgen’s spine on impact. Bloodhowl dropped face-first to the ground, motionless, and Ivar, after taking a few seconds to catch his breath, kneeled down to tear out his the brown-furred one’s throat and ensure he was dead.
As he started to flip the other worgen over to finish the job, Bloodhowl – his spine already fully healed – leapt up at him and attempted to sink his fangs into Bloodfang’s throat, only to be knocked back down to the ground by a punch from Ivar. The black worgen then lunged at Bloodhowl’s throat to tear it out and finish the battle, only to be knocked away by a slash that left deep scars in the right side of his muzzle.
The two males then stood up, backing a few paces away from each other and circling around one enough. After several minutes of this, Bloodhowl just snarled. “You
call yourself Alpha Male,” he growled, “but you can barely hold your own against a worgen that showed up at your doorstep mere minutes ago. You
call yourself Alpha Male but you send in lapdogs to attack your enemies before you even think about attacking them yourself. You
call yourself Alpha Male but you do not lead your pack on the greatest hunt – a human hunt.”
He laughed a single, mocking “ha” before continuing. “Keep your pack. I don’t need them anymore than I need fleas.” He turned and walked away, then stopped, and turned back towards the bulk of the Bloodfang Pack and barked an order. Painfang followed his brother, as did a small number of the onlookers from the fight between Bloodhowl and Bloodfang and Frenzy, who walked on all fours, whimpering like a beaten dog.
Bloodfang merely snarled as he watched them go. He turned away and walked to where the town met the water. He looked down at his reflection, inspecting the damage that had been done to him in the battle. It was minor, for the most part, but what truly worried him were the brown-one’s words. His taunts had been simple and without proof to back them up, but they still stuck with him.
Snarling, Bloodfang turned away from the water and lifted his muzzle to the moon above. The clouds were parting, letting the light of the full moon shine down upon him and all of the worgen in Gilneas. He barred his fangs and then inhaled. He would lead a hunt tonight.
A hunt for humans.
A hunt in the largest city in this land.
He howled, singling to all of his pack still loyal to him to gather for the hunt in Gilneas City to begin.
Genn and Krista rode into Gilneas City, the troops of the southern barracks with them. The soldiers were immediately split into large groups and headed off into the city to gather up the civilians and escort them out of the city.
“Father,” Liam said, riding up to Genn. “What is this?” Not far behind the Gilnean Prince was Lord Godfrey, also mounted on a Gilnean horse.
“Liam, you must leave immediately,” Genn said. “Head for the Manor, you’ll be safe there with your mother and sister. I will join you once I’ve see to it that all of the citizens in the city have been evacuated.”
“Father!” Liam snapped back, “The people of Gilneas are as much my responsibility as they are yours! I will not stand idly by and do nothing while they might be in danger!”
“My king!” a soldier can running up to Genn from outside of the city, panting for breath. “We… My squad and I were sent by our Sergeant to scout the perimeter around the city while the other soldiers entered. Everything was quiet for a while then-.” A howl rose up that was joined by more around the whole of the city, growing louder and louder. “Un-until th-them. There must be hundreds of them out there, my king!”
Genn looked out through the gates of the city, making the faint sillouhettes of what looked like wolves sprinting for the city. “Light protect us,” he muttered, and then said to all of the others around him – Krista, Liam, Godfrey, and those soldiers that had remained by him; “Deeper into the city! Quickly!”
“Father, what was… that?” Liam asked, looking out through the gates to also see the “wolves” running towards Gilneas City. “What are those?”
“I will explain everything once we’re safe, my son. Now ride!” He spurred his mount and took off into the city, followed by the other three Gilnean nobles and the soldiers.
Krista’s face was as white as a sheet. What had she gotten herself into? There were truly that many of them
here? In the
heart of Gilnean lands? Light protect them all…
“I want the perimeter secured and the gates manned by two guards at all times,” Liam ordered, riding alongside a column of Gilneas soldiers. “No one gets in, no one gets out.” His father had not yet told him what the threat they were facing off against was, but he had been told that it was a threat unlike any he could have imagined. Liam did not like the secrecy with which his father was handling this matter, but he supposed that for now the safety of the Gilnean people was more important. There were a number of soldiers at his side, but even with their help he was not sure if they could hold back all of whatever it is they were fighting against. From what he had seen outside of the gates there may very well be more of those creatures than there were Gilnean soldiers to fight against them.
Even as they tried to maintain order, however, the citizens were becoming increasingly alarmed and more difficult to keep in line. “What…. What are those things on the rooftops!” one panicked citizen yelled, pointing up to the rooftops.
Liam looked up, seeing several shadowy silhouettes leaping and running along them. They looked like men but there was something wrong about their way they moved and their shapes in general. What were they fighting against?
“My Prince,” the Sergeant Liam had sent to see why Lieutenant Walden had yet to report in. “The Lieutenant, he... he is dead, milord. Slashed to bits by what looks like the claws of a wolf.”
Claws of a wolf? Liam had his suspicions, but was unsure they held any merit until another howl rang through the city and the creatures on the roofs began to descend. He got his first good look at them as one dropped into the light of a nearby lantern and turned to face him. Human shaped, but with the muzzle, hind legs, and fur of a wolf.
His face grew pale but he reached for his rapier all the same.
Bloody hell, he thought,
the rumors are true…
Worgen.
“The King said Crowley’s arsenal was down here,” Krista said, leading the soldier Timothy Oxworth and a commoner who had been conscripted by the prince to aid them named Casey Brown down into a cellar. In a corner there was a lone man rocking back and forth in a fetal position. “Josiah Avery?” she asked, walking towards him. “Josiah Avery, by the order of King Genn Greymane you are hereby commanded to surrender the arsenals stored here to the Gilnean Military for their use.”
Josiah made no response, he just continued to rock back and forth and convulse in pain every few seconds. “Josiah Avery,” Krista then said, her tone growing impatient, “I am Lady Krista Jeret, and I command you to respond.” He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder to turn him to face her.
“NO!” Josiah yelled spinning around to push Krista away, knocking to the ground in doing so. “Don’t look at me! Leave me alone!” Krista gasped as she saw his face, chest and arms, all twisted to be more like that of a wolf and sprouting hair all over. He cried out in pain once more before the cry became a howl and the transformation was complete.
It took Krista non time to realize what had happened. It was just like when Ivan had transformed. “Bloody hell, he’s one of them! Kill him!” she screamed, throwing up her arms to protect herself as the beast lunged forward to bite her. Casey jumped between the animal and the lord, taking the bite for Krista before being tossed aside like a weed plucked from the garden. The exact same happened with Timothy as he tried to defend the Gilnean Lady, but before the beast could finally move in to sink his jowls into Krista’s flesh a shot rang out and the beast Josiah Avery had become fell to the ground, a bullet hole in his forehead.
Krista looked behind her, seeing another Gilnean woman standing in the doorway. “He turned into one of them… didn’t he?” she asked, Krista, terrified, could only nod. The woman scowled. “How do we even begin to fight an enemy that can do that to us?” She sighed. “My father’s arsenal’s certainly a good start, I suppose.”
Krista’s jaw almost dropped from her face in shock. Her
father’s arsenal? Of all the people she could have been rescued by, Krista’s life had just been saved by the daughter of Darius Crowley.
What in the name of the Light was happening to Gilneas?