Friedrich walked the streets of Akatfall alone, looking for something to do while Marina spent a few hours training with her magic tutor, Hansel the Striker. As much as he would have loved to take up a menial task like killing rats or making a delivery, he was terrified that a menial task may escalate beyond his wildest imagination once again. Instead, he decided to take a small tour of the city while he had the spare time.

“Another beautiful day,” he said pleasantly as he strolled past a grand Temple of Jorren, wondering if he should perhaps set foot inside and pray.

As Friedrich was about to move, he suddenly found himself knocked forcefully to the ground from behind.

“Watch it,” grunted a gravelly voice that moved on past.

“Watch it yourself, you hapless oaf,” called Friedrich, climbing to his feet.

The man, who was flanked by two cronies, turned around and Friedrich’s eyes widened in horror. He knew this tusked, green-skinned face. It was Krog, the same orc he had spied in the forest not long after he had first met Marina.

“You want to say that to my face?” asked Krog, taking a step forward. He was a burly fellow that could crush a skull in one hand quite easily and Friedrich suddenly didn’t fancy his chances.

There was nothing else for it, he had to go all in or take a beating anyway. “I told you to watch where you’re going you half-witted imbecile.”

“You know who yer talkin’ to?” asked one of his cronies.

“Quiet, Arghur!” ordered Krog as he cracked his knuckles. “I can fight my own battles. And this is gonna be a fight, alright.”

Friedrich’s hand was drawn to the minotaur mask around his neck, but before he could do anything, a pair of guards approached the quartet.

“Is there a problem here, gents?” asked one of the guards.

“You had best believe there’s a problem,” said Krog. “This runt insulted me and I don’t take too kindly to being called stupid.”

Friedrich knew that he could get away with it now that the guards were here. “You don’t take kindly to reality smacking you in the face, you ignoramus.”

“Why you little—” yelled Krog, lunging for Friedrich, but the guards forced their way between the two.

“Don’t antagonise him, lad,” said the guard, shoving Friedrich back. “Have some sense. If the pair of you want to scrap then take it outside of the walls. If we here of anything going on in the city between the pair of you, we’ll throw you in the cells for a week.”

“Outside the front gates in thirty minutes, boy,” said Krog. “You had better show up or we’ll be waiting for you next time you dare take a step past the walls of the city.”

“Keep it off the road,” said the guard. “If you two really want to kill each other, do it somewhere none of us will have to clean up.”

“I’ll see you and your guard dogs there,” said Friedrich. He figured there was no way he could make the situation worse for himself, so pissing the orcs off may at least rile them up enough to make them sloppy. Then again, now that he was thinking about it, orcs were at their fiercest when infuriated.

“Guard dogs?” barked Krog’s other companion.

“Shut up, Begok,” said Krog, walking away and beckoning his minions to follow him.

The guards departed with the one that had told them to take the fight outside wishing Friedrich luck. He was glad of it because he would certainly need it.

“Dare I?” he said, running his hands over his tunic where the mask bulged underneath, just below his neckline. “No…no, that would be a terrible idea. I’ll kill all three of them.”

He didn’t want to risk being jumped from an alleyway should the orcs decide not to play fair, so Friedrich took an unorthodox loop through the streets to get to the front gate. He wished he had Marina and Blackjack to back him up, but he also knew that if they were here, they would have stopped him from getting into the fight in the first place.

Friedrich waited by the front gates for a few minutes, in two minds as to whether he should show up or not. He wouldn’t put it past the orcs to track him down and murder him in his sleep, but he also knew that if he dragged it out, he could enlist Marina for backup when she was free from her training.

He shook his head in shame at that last thought. It was disgraceful of him to even consider dragging her into it. That would put her at risk in an uneven fight. The last time the pair of them were outnumbered three to two against Muriance and his men, they barely escaped.

Breathing deep, he stepped on through the gate and onto the path. It was still busy, but he could see the distinct orcs waiting a little down the road. When Krog spotted him coming, he gestured towards the trees to the left of the path and then beckoned for Friedrich to follow him and his cronies as they led the way into the forest.

Friedrich followed them at a distance for a minute until they were out of sight of the path, as the guard had requested. His heart was beating rapidly and his breathing was quick. He knew that there was a strong chance that he would die if he didn’t put on the minotaur mask, but he couldn’t risk turning feral and attacking anyone in town. He was still much too close for comfort. He could kill a lot of innocents in five minutes.

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“Here,” said Krog, as he stopped in a small clearing and then turned around to Friedrich. “Didn’t think you’d show, you little worm. Got a pair on you, I’ll have to give you that, but it doesn’t matter now. You’re at the end of the line, ya hear me?”

“How’re we doing this?” asked Friedrich, drawing his sword. “One on one?”

The three orcs guffawed to each other. “You think Arghur and Begok don’t have a stake in this after you called them guard dogs?” asked Krog, retrieving his axe from his belt. “Nah, human. We’re going to take it in turns to hack off your limbs.”

“I didn’t know you were so weak that you needed help,” laughed Friedrich.

Krog was infuriated and let out an angry roar, his pig-like nose turning up as his nostrils flared. “You call me weak?” he yelled, so loudly that birds in a nearby tree scattered into the air, desperately flapping their wings to escape the danger.

Krog was going to fight him one on one, Friedrich knew it. He just needed to rattle him further to throw him off without sending the orc into a berserker rage. “Did you ever get that loot near Eagle’s Crest?”

The three orcs’ jaws all dropped. They looked back and forth between each other, unsure of what to say. “Eagle’s Crest? What do you mean by that?”

“That wild boar you were cooking looked mighty tasty,” said Friedrich, rubbing his stomach. “Did you ever catch that fox, Begok?”

“Have you been following us?” demanded Begok, making for Friedrich before Krog pulled him back.

“What are you trying to pull here?” barked Krog. “This some sort of witchcraft? How do you know any of this?”

Friedrich shrugged. “Just a lucky guess, perhaps…or maybe I can read minds. Wouldn’t it be funny if I knew every move you were going to make before you even made it?”

“Kid trying to convince us he’s—”

“Shut up, Arghur!” ordered Krog, shoving Arghur out of the way. “Enough of your tricks, boy. We fight now!”

“Alright,” said Friedrich, swishing his sword and bracing his shield. “Come find out what I can do, Krog.”

Krog charged forward with his axe raised, unleashing a mighty battle cry as he swung for Friedrich. The nimbler swordsman sidestepped the attack and cut a slice across Krog’s leather armour. The orc retaliated with a follow up swing that Friedrich deftly blocked with his shield, but he felt the impact run up his arm. Had it not been for his shield, he would have lost the arm.

Friedrich moved swiftly, dodging and parrying the attacks, but it was not easy. Shaken by Friedrich’s antics as Krog may have been, he was not going to go down without a fight. With a particularly heavy cleave, he bashed Friedrich’s shield so hard that the young man buckled at the knees. Krog laughed as he took a sweeping horizontal strike, aiming for Friedrich’s neck, but Friedrich ducked in the nick of time and his head remained attached by the skin of his teeth.

He scrambled between Krog’s legs and hurried to his feet. From the corner of his eye, he could see Arghur and Begok readying their own axes, itching to join the fight. Krog spun around, gnashing his teeth at Friedrich who raised his shield and pointed his sword towards his opponent.

Friedrich took a forward step and thrust his blade, but Krog smacked it out of the way and out of Friedrich’s hand with his axe. With only his shield left, Friedrich was growing more desperate by the second. He could still run. He may just be able to escape if he transformed into a fox, but that wouldn’t put an end to the problem.

Krog swung and he swung, with Friedrich blocking and parrying with his shield. It was no easy task and his arm was tiring, but Krog had taken to playing with him and guffawed with each swing. After another couple of strikes, Krog shook his head.

“This ain’t fun anymore,” he said. “Come on, lads. We’ll take a limb each and leave him one.”

“No,” Friedrich muttered, as all three orcs were now encroaching upon him. “I can’t do it. I won’t do it.”

“Won’t do what?” asked Krog, but Friedrich had already done it.

The minotaur mask touched his nose and he transformed before the eyes of the orcs. A second before, he was shorter and leaner than they were, but now he was much bigger and bulkier. Friedrich let out a roar and the three orcs stood frozen in horror at what they had just witnessed.

“Y-y-you…” stammered Krog before trailing off.

“Boss,” said Arghur uncertainly. “What do we do?”

“I ain’t gettin’ mauled by that thing!” cried Bezok, who turned and fled.

Friedrich snorted and walked towards the two remaining orcs, both of whom were trembling in fear. Krog decided to be brave and swung his axe, but Friedrich caught his arm and snapped it at the elbow with ease. The orc leader let out a bloodcurdling scream of agony as Friedrich tossed him to the ground.

“Get back!” screeched Krog as Friedrich bore down upon him, ready to sink his claws into the orc’s stomach and tear it open.

Friedrich wanted to give into the bestial instincts of the minotaur. He wanted to kill Krog so that he would never be a problem for him again. He wanted to eat the orc’s limbs, picking the bones clean of all flesh. He wanted to give in, but he refused.

The young man forced himself up and dragged Krog up with him by the unbroken arm. He kicked the orc square in the back with his hoof, booting him across the clearing and into the bushes. Krog climbed back to his feet, clutching his broken arm. With a last look at Friedrich, who gave a guttural grunt, the orc leader fled to join his already-gone companions.

Alone, Friedrich had the strong urge for destruction, but he could not allow himself to venture near the city. Even without the bloodlust, he needed to do something to vent his rage without Marina here to calm him down. He charged straight for a tree and tore branch after branch from it, snapping them and hurling them into the bushes while snorting and roaring loudly.

All he needed to do now was wait out the rest of the magic. Every second that passed was a second that everyone nearby was safer. He had to resist the urge to chase after the orcs. It would be easy to tear them apart and they were too afraid to fight back. It would be oh so easy. No. He could not. Once the bloodlust took him, he would lose his mind.

Wrestling with the soul of the minotaur the entire time, the soul gem finally released Friedrich and the mask fell from his face, dangling by his neck once again. He let out a small laugh of relief as he dropped to his knees. He had done it; he had outlasted the minotaur’s will all by himself.

He took the minotaur mask from around his neck and cocked his arm back, ready to throw it away and never see it again. It would be someone else’s problem next time. As Friedrich held it in his hand, his arm started shaking. He could not move. Why couldn’t he throw it? The minotaur still had some power over him even though it was not in communion with his body. Frustrated, Friedrich let his arm fall and then hung the mask back around his neck.

As much as he hated the minotaur, he believed he would need the mask before the end. The forces he was up against, the forces his father was held by, they would not fall easily. Every ounce of strength Friedrich could muster was a necessity. At least he had time. He had lots of time.

After a few more minutes alone with his thoughts, he decided it was time to return to Akatfall. The orcs wouldn’t bother him again, he was confident of that. If Marina wasn’t finished with her lesson, he would sit by the fountain until she was. He would sit quietly and not antagonise anyone else, no matter how much he thought they deserved it.