Wolf had shown an incredible amount of progress over the past couple of days. He picked up the sword and took to it easily, surpassing the very low expectation of his mercenary trainers and peers alike. The initial werewolf concerns evaporated quickly amongst the other members while the leaders had dismissed them outright. The only enduring issue wasn’t other mercenaries being open to working with him but that Wolf didn’t much like the idea of working with Cat or Lizard people.

  “This is your first mission, Wolf?” asks his companion as they continue walking along the dirt trail.

  “Second,” Wolf corrects, as he walks upright alongside her. “How about you, Mya?”

  Mya taps her finger against her lip, seeming to consider. Her blond hair is curled into a ballerina bun. She’s wearing hardened leather over most of her body and a sword hangs from her hip while a shield hangs behind her shoulders. It has a wooden surface with steel bands that run around and across it. “It must be at least four times many. So that would make me your superior, right?”

  “Hey, I might be a newb partner but it could be worse. You could be working with Scales or Mittens right now.” Wolf looks down to her, a grin creeping across his face.

  She shakes her head in response. “Isn’t that a bit racist?”

  “Racist?” Wolf asks, thinking it over. “No. Elitist, maybe, but not racist.”

  “Yeah, well you being a racist aside, you’re actually not that bad to tag along with. Your dialog and mannerisms are way more complex than any oth—what are you doing?”

  Wolf is looking back towards his tail while turning in a circle. “I’m trying to see if I’m bleeding,” he replies. “Will you look at this for me?”

  Wolf is still trying to look beyond his shoulder as Mya circles behind him. He has a steel greatsword attached to his back by a leather harness that loops over his shoulders and across his chest. The sword’s handgrip is wrapped with leather while charred etchings cover the hilt and pommel. She looks down towards the tip of his weapon and finds where the bare blade is brushing the base of his tail.

  She puts her finger on his tail, and he pulls his butt away from her. “Hey, easy with those digits,” he says, glaring.

  “Relax, whelp,” Mya replies with a smile. “I’m just checking to see if it’s cutting you.”

  “Alright, but I’m watching you.”

  She shakes her head and begins pushing the hair aside at the base of his tail. “Well, you’re not bleeding, but you are trimming some of your coat. You may want to get that addressed sometime soon.”

  “Oh, you think? You’re a real bastion of originality, you know that?”

  “Yikes, someone’s a real grumpy pants today, huh?”

  Wolf looks away and growls. “Sorry, I just don’t like my tail messed with.”

  “Well, take it out on the sword—better yet, take it out on the clowns we’re here to deal with.”

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  He nods and draws his weapon, then lays the flat edge against his shoulder. “Good idea.”

  They crest a grassy hill to lay eyes on a castle keep. It’s around three-hundred feet away and surrounded by a sixty-foot walls of gray stone. A few archers patrol the top of the wall, traveling between the towers that are at two of the four corners.

  “So how we doing this?” Mya asks. “Should we go sneaky-sneaky, or hit-and-run, or maybe isolate-and-eliminate…”

  “How about you charge in with your shield raised to block any arrows, and I follow up by passing out splitting headaches?”

  She nods. “Fast-and-loud it is then.”

  Mya begins leading the way with shield and sword in hand, following the dirt path that leads from their hilltop to the front gate. They casually strolling down the hill when the lone gate guard takes notice of them.

  “How do brigands get control of a castle anyways,” Wolf asks. “Are these places just sitting around empty or something? I mean, why build a place like this and then abandon it?”

  “THAT’S CLOSE ENOUGH!” calls the gate guard, laying his hand on the sword hilt at his hip.

  Mya shrugs. “Stupid lords probably have more money than they know what to do with.”

  “That’s the kinds of problems that I want—more money than sense.”

  Mya chuckles. “Was that a joke?”

  Wolf shrugs. “A friend said I needed to work on them.”

  “Well, keep at it. Statistically speaking, they can’t all be bad.”

  “NEVER SHOULD HAVE COME HERE!” the gate guard calls, drawing his sword and charging.

  His sword swings at Mya, and she bats it away with her shield. Wolf steps forward, driving his pummel into the bandit’s nose as Mya lunges and thrusts her blade through his stomach. She lowers the tip and allows the fallen to slide off, then rolls him aside with her foot.

  Mya raises her shield again as an archer atop the wall levels a bow at them. The arrow launches and strikes the shield, haft breaking as it falls away. They run up to the curtainwall, positioning on each side of an open gate.

  “Sure was nice of them to leave the gate open,” Wolf calls over. He peeks in to see three bandits in the courtyard. “Keep that shield between us and the archers, and work that healing magic if we take hits.”

  Wolf rounds the corner and runs into the courtyard, Mya following after. He barrels in with his shoulder dropped and the sword dragging behind him. He collides with the first bandit, sending him sprawling, then uses the momentum to swing his weapon around like a baseball bat. A second bandit raises a short sword towards the blow, but his defense is crushed causing him to scream as the greatsword severs his sword arm and bites into his ribs.

  Mya backs up to Wolf and extends her shield to deflect arrows zipping towards them.

  Wolf finishes the other combatant knocked over by his charge. A quick thrust into the prone form and it’s over. The last fighter has a sword, shield, and plate armor. Wolf swings an overhead chop as a shield rises to meet the blow. He follows with a thrust and it’s knocked aside.

   The armored foe bashes Wolf with his shield forcing him to back into Mya, then lunges as Wolf’s sword tip lowers to the ground.

  Wolf thrusts his handhold and across, moving his weapon like a lever to brush the lunge away. He grabs the top of the shield and forces it down to glare at his foe’s struggling gaze. Wolf growls, then bites his face off.

  The bandit falls away as Wolf and Mya look to the archers on the opposing towers. “I’ll take this one,” he calls, staking his blade in the ground as Mya rushes towards her target. Wolf drops to all fours as he sees the cat person with a bow. Here, kitty, kitty, he thinks and charges.

  After finishing the archers, they meet back in the courtyard as Wolf flicks his tongue at his teeth and gums.

  “Did you really bite that guy’s face off?” Mya asks with a chuckle.

  “Regrettably, yes,” Wolf replies. “But he was starting to piss me off.” He looks down at his paw and licks at a spot of blood, then spits. “Nope, not mine.”

  “What? Are you on some special diet or something?”

  “No, but these guys must have been, because they taste awful. And I’m not a picky eater, so that’s really saying something.”

  She nods. “Well, let’s take care of whoever’s left inside.” She takes hold of an iron ring on a metal banded door, then looks back to Wolf. “You ready?”

  He nods and they head inside.