He watched with passive eyes as his battle axe cleaved flesh and bone, his unfortunate victim screaming out in fear and agony. His screams left those under his command shaking with disbelief as his body was dissected at the shoulder in a shower of gore.

He rose, breathing heavily and exhaling great gusts of steam as he flicked his axe, shaking the blood free before he settled it on his shoulder, “Anyone else?” He called out to the garrison, pulling up the visor on his helm.

“Charge!” The attacking commander roared, spittle flying from his mouth.

The axe-wielder shifted, watching as the garrison was slaughtered around him, their morale shattered like the body of their champion. He scanned for further heads to collect, eyes unwavering as the surrendering men were butchered to the last, the villagers pulled from their homes as their livelihoods were ripped from their stores. Men and women alike stripped for anything they owned, before the fires began.

The fort was put to the torch, stone walls stoking the fires higher and higher as skin was shackled, and the defeated were led away, bare feet sliced like paper along the jagged path.

“I’ve got…” The treasurer frowned, “Dog? Is there a dog? Is this a joke or-“

“No joke.” The axe-wielder mumbled, “Dog, that’s me.”

He shoved his way through the mass of his fellow mercenaries, some snickering quietly as he approached the treasurer.

“Dog… You slew the garrison commander in single combat?”

“I did.” Dog grunted.

The treasurer eyed him in a new light, craning his head, “His bounty was twelve pieces, that’s double your pay in gold.” He counted out the coins, shoving them forward in a brown cloth sack, “Would you consider joining us full time? If your performance is at all like todays then I expect the lord to offer you knighthood before the campaign ends this year. You’d be quite comfortable, you’d never need to raise that axe again.”

“Never again, huh? What good am I or any of us for then? This kingdom won't exist by the end of the week.” Dog shook his head, throwing the coins into his traveling sack and turning back. The treasurer rolled his eyes as he faded into the crowd.

Dog exited the fort, ignoring the cries and whimpers that surrounded him as the peasants were loaded into carts and wagons, eyes locked on the setting sun ahead of him. His axe handle jostled at his back as he walked, cracking his neck with a grunt as he pulled his helm free, and tucked it at his side.

“Hey, you!” A voice hollered from the crest of a nearby hill.

Dog turned, an eyebrow raised beneath black locks, his tan skin bright beneath the sun’s kiss. He spied a lanky man, flanked by a group of men in light metal armor, swords at their sides. The lanky man walked with a confident swagger, his long legs crossing the stretches of field around them with a casual grace that his underlings struggled to match. Dog eyed the metal on their hips, and the iron spear on the man’s back. He shifted, cocking his shoulder. Dog’s axe slammed into the dirt with a low thud, and he placed it's butt beneath his palm.

“Hey there, stranger!” The man grinned through yellow teeth, his otherwise handsome smile marred by the sight, “You lookin’ to join up with a company?”

Dog shook his head, “No.”

“You sure?” The man pressed, “Name’s John, friend. How ‘bout yours?”

“You know it.” Dog said.

The man’s grin was feral, “So I do.”

“Shall we?” Dog hefted his axe, his challengers eyeing it warily, and the man carrying it even more so.

Dog was more than a head shorter than the silent warriors, and nearly double that for John. His axe was taller than all present, its wicked head polished to a shine, devoid of any imperfections despite the strength of the armor it left ruined. Its shaft of wood was braced between a silvery metal, yet he swung it as if it weighed nothing.

“I suppose we should.” John chuckled, “What a rude man. I wonder if you’ll learn manners when my spears in your neck. Pretty axe, that. Not made for horseback, but too long to be used right on foot. What's the make?”

Dog dodged the stab aimed at his chest, twisting his torso and letting it bounce off his chest plate. John’s eyes widened, his body flying forward from the momentum. Dog raised his axe, crushing the handle into the back of John’s head. The lanky man dropped like a log, his followers flinching back in fear. Dog blurred, his axe swinging wide as its head smashed into the nearest foe, tearing him apart at the waist and staining the grass red with blood. He moved with a speed they couldn’t escape, wide arcs of metal tearing limbs from their bodies with violent cuts and slashes.

The first did not go quickly, his overextended strike punished by a violent downward swing, taking him apart at the shoulder. The second was slow to dodge, his chest split open like a fountain as he was launched backwards, staining the grass a sticky red. The third aimed to capitalize on his perceived distraction, losing his leg as Dog slipped under his swipe and took his legs in a whirling hurricane of steel.

Dog’s axe fell still, resting in a patch of blood soaked mud. He wiped at the smear on his cheek, before turning and moving towards the path, his face still locked in an indifferent mask.

“Not so fast, stranger.” Another voice laughed, “I told him he shouldn’t have tried it. Now we’ve got three whelps to take care of back at camp. Lazy bums, up and dying like this and leaving us to clean up the mess.”

Dog turned, glancing at John slowly rising out of the dirt at his back. The new voice smiled down at him, his face full of curly white hair, his beard hanging down to his chest. His skin was darker than many Dog had seen, a dark color more so than some of the people that dwelled to the south. The long sword at his side was as tall as Dog, and half as thick. More like a club of steel than a proper blade.

“My name is Siegfried, you can call me Sig, if you survive.”

“You weren’t at the siege.” Dog’s low voice rasped.

“No. I’m our captain's personal bodyguard.” Sigfried grinned.

“I see.” Dog nodded, “Would you also like to fight?”

Siegfried cocked his head, “No, if I’m being honest. That gold is yours, you’ve fought alongside us like any other. Unfortunately you’ve killed some of my captain’s property, and left several children orphaned. That’s what we call a Blood Debt.” He shrugged, “Twelve gold is a lot for some runts, twenty-four more so. I can’t let this stain go unanswered you see.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I see.” Dog said, dropping his rucksack and donning his helmet.

“No complaints?” Siegfried asked.

Dog shook his head.

“Your eyes.” Siegfried noted, “You’ve spent a long time on the battlefield. That’s the resolve of a veteran. You’re taking this seriously.”

“Your blade.” Dog said, “I can see it. Smell it.”

“See what?” Siegfried asked, hefting it between his hands, presenting it to the diminutive warrior.

“The blood.” Dog said, “She has taken many lives. She is old. She is strong.”

“You can tell all of that from a glance?” Siegfried asked, still smiling.

“Fear the old, where men die young.” Dog replied, his hair standing on edge as he raised his axe, hackles curling.

“I think I get why they call you a dog.” Siegfried laughed, “You’re a smart kid.”

Dog said nothing, lowering himself, his axe at the ready.

“Brace yourself.” Siegfried said, “Try not to die, I like you kid.”

Dog’s instincts screamed, his nose twitching as his ears picked up a shrill shriek! Metal whistling through the air like a bird. He blinked, the world upside down, Siegfried’s eyes locked on his own. He felt the wind on his ears, singing through his armor and helmet, before his body was wrapped around a nearby tree along the path. The bark splintered around him, stabbing into the gaps in his armor, cutting deep into scarred flesh.

Dog vomited, his spine burning as his armor creaked and groaned. His ears twitched, and he turned, eyeing the armored soldiers along the hill. Many cheered and whooped, others laughed as they watched him struggle along the ground.

Dog grunted, his vision going white as he stood, pulling up his axe with one arm. Siegfried regarded him with surprise, smiling as he approached, his sword sheathed. The crowd grew silent as Dog’s breath slowed, and steadied, the pain fading as his vision focused. He brought up his mangled arm, an audible Snap! Sounding out as he forced his shoulder back into its joint.

“I think you’ve lost this one, big man.” Siegfried laughed.

“He’s dead the second his body hits the ground.” John spat, his smirk gone.

Dog shook his head, forcing the ringing out of his ears as he eyed Siegfried, his pupils narrowed.

“Nothing wrong with admitting defeat.” Siegfried chuckled, “Forfeit, nobody should be standing after a hit like that. Especially not someone of your size.”

Dog growled, John stepping back warily as Siegfried guffawed.

“Siegfried!” A voice called from upon the grassy gnoll, “What is your appraisal?” It was regal, and firm. It rang out across the valley and made Dog’s skin burn.

His eyes focused, and his blood froze. She was paler than the moon, with hair like silver. She stood taller than him by a head, her hair billowing in the wind behind her as she stroked her steed's neck. Her blade was stowed at her side, a ruby gem in its hilt to match her eyes. Her garb was a pure silvery steel, dozens of red highlights tracing the shiny steel, shoulder pauldrons tall, and regal. The emblazoning upon each was a simple red fountain, a round base topped with a pillar that made for the center columns sprout.

Dog shuddered, his axe turned towards her.

“I’ve never met anyone with such keen senses. He heard my blade, even if he couldn’t dodge. His durability is astounding, and…” He eyed Dog, before sheathing his broadsword again, a smile on his broad face, “He can tell someone’s a threat by scent alone. He's no match for me, and yet something about him is fundamentally unnerving."

“Interesting.” She said, descending the gnoll, her hand on the pommel of her blade as she approached. John bowed as she passed, Siegfried following suit. She stared Dog up and down, “Dog? Is that what they call you?”

Dog snarled, his eyes wide, ears twitching violently.

“I think Wolf is more accurate.” She snorted, “You took some property from me, Dog.”

Dog said nothing, crouching lower to the ground.

“Are you afraid of me?” She asked.

“No.” He said.

“So what’s all this, then?”

Dog hissed, “You are dangerous.”

“So you aren’t afraid, but you think I’m dangerous?” She laughed, “How paradoxical. How much do I stink compared to Siegfried over there?”

“Much.” Dog said.

“And John?”

Dog shook his head, “His scent is weak.”

“Could you beat me in a fight?”

“No.” Dog said.

“Yet you’d resist?”

“What is won by the sword,” Dog whispered in his raspy voice, “Must be taken by the sword.”

She grinned, her perfect teeth highlighted by her queenly aura, bright skin as stark to the dirt as snow, “I do like him. Well done, Siegfried.”

“Of course ma’am. I doubt most of the band could stop him. He may even surpass me one day, if properly trained.”

“Could he surpass me?”

Siegfried’s eyes twinkled, “Unlikely.”

“Flatterer.” She rolled her eyes, drawing her blade.

Dog felt his ears begin to ring as she raised it before her, their eyes locked.

“My name is Victoria Highgarden,” She said, “If you survive, you will be mine.”

Dog glared.

“Your terms?”

“Leave me alone.”

She smiled, “Simple. Start!”

Dog swung, refusing to let himself get caught off guard again. Victoria laughed, ducking beneath his blow. He shifted, dropping and bringing his body down like a battering ram. Her eyes widened a fraction, before she spun, twisting in the dirt into his blind spot. Dog caught himself, hefting his axe and swinging it with all his might, trying to catch her as she stood. Victoria bobbed beneath it again, throwing her back over her feet. She lashed out, her blade digging into his ribs as he gasped.

Victoria ground the tip of her sword into his ribs, “Submit, Puppy.”

Dog’s mouth turned feral, his canines barred as he dropped his axe, hands clamping down on her sword. Victoria struggled as he shoved her into the dirt by forcing the pommel into her chest. He lashed out, kicking her in the side with his greaves as she brought her arms up to shield herself. He pummeled her, and she laughed as her cheek and eye began to swell. Twisting, she shoved the blade deeper, Dog’s vision going white as it slid between a crack in his broken rib cage.

He collapsed, fingers bleeding through his leather gloves as he held her blade in a vice grip, darkness claiming him.

“Ma’am! Are you alright?” John glared, his dagger pressed to Dog’s throat, “I’m going to finish this little-“

“John, are you deaf and stupid?” Victoria asked.

John froze.

“I said he’d be my dog, did I not?”

John glared into the dirt, his cheeks flushed.

“Quit pouting.” Siegfried slapped his back.

“He killed my men!”

“You led them to their deaths.” Victoria rolled her eyes, “Don’t be dumb, John. You saw as well as I did how he handled Gentry of the Sword. If he could do that to a sworn knight, you should’ve known what he’d do to you.”

“Yes ma’am.” John grunted, eyes burning.

“Go gather the bodies, their runts need funding, I’ll need to ask for volunteers tonight. Siegfried, get him a tent, have him looked at. I want Harlow to watch him, to keep him warm if he gets a fever.”