The stars had started peeking out as the sun set behind the Shalladin mountains. Golden lights from within the fortress itself softly glowed. The entrance to the gate resembled a gaping maw ready to devour its next meal. The effected enhanced as the two large windows to the gatehouse carried the appearance of eyes constantly watching for a creature to devour. The four main towers reached to touch the stars and corrupt very the heavens with its disease. The stonework around the entire complex had turned dark. All the while the wind provided a sharp chill in the air as it shrieked by one’s ear. Giving the whole castle grounds an ominous appearance.

The moat surrounding the entire outer defenses was filled with a dark and murky liquid. Maeryn and Cid already winced at the scent. Kveldulf looked towards the surface of the water and found small protrusions poking upwards. They were rounded along the tops, thinned in the middle and the smallest fluttering of insects could be seen hovering around them. Kveldulf snarled as his eyes adjusted enough to the darkness to recognize the hundreds of heads piked throughout the watery barrier.

“Certain is a lovely decoration,” he said to Cid.

“What is it with people and piking heads,” Silvius asked, pulling away.

“Best way to get a message across to avoid a place. Or the people inside.”

Cid and Kveldulf waited by a tree, watching the night guards move along the high walls behind the castellations. These were not the same kind of warriors they had seen before. Brigands dressed in random armor, carrying no bearing of martial pride. These were something else. They moved as if each step was one of great contemplation and with purpose. There was no air of amateurism at all.

Cid turned to Kel, “Well, this should make things interesting.”

“That’s one of putting it,” Kveldulf replied.

“Hypatia,” Cid called out, as she came over he asked, “Were there any plans for the layout of the castle?”

She nodded. “A few, I made sure to note if there were any sally ports or sewage tunnels we could use to breach inside.”

“Tell me there’s one sally port available?” Silvius said.

“What are you complaining about?” Maeryn replied. “Cid and I are the ones with the enhanced senses.”

“Oh, I wasn’t discounting what you or Cid go through,” Silvius said to her. “And I apologize for coming close to that insinuation.”

“Perhaps we should have this conversation later,” said Cid, “but seriously, Hypatia. Please tell me there’s a non-sewage entry point.”

“I think there’s one on the eastern side of the fortress,” Hypatia said, pointing to a spot on a folded map.

“All right,” said Cid, “Maeryn, Kel, head over there and check it out, make sure they haven’t removed it. Everyone else, keep to brush, get your weapons at the ready and be prepared to move in at any moment.”

With a quick tilt of his head, Cid signaled Kveldulf and Maeryn to move down the eastern side of the castle. The height of the grass forcing them to crawl on their stomachs to avoid detection. Maeryn carefully moved her head up, ducking it down quickly after a moment. Kveldulf slunk his way over.

“Can you see anything?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I haven’t seen anything yet.”

“What about any entry ports?”

She shook her head.

“Damn,” Kveldulf muttered.

“And I’m a little concerned what’s in the water before I cross it.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Kveldulf, “I doubt it would be as good as a nice bath.”

Maeryn peered her head up again and patted Kel’s shoulder.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I think I found something,” she said, ducking back down and moving further to the back of the fortress. Moving around to the northern section of the castle walls, there was a portcullis. Over its face was a barred gate and a small trickle of waste and water flowing out.

Kveldulf looked at the opening and back to Maeryn. “I’m assuming there is a reasoning to the madness.”

She notched an arrow and said “You and me both,” before releasing.

The arrow landed in the water, about half of it poking out of the moat’s surface.

They exchanged glances, wide eyed. Emerging from the grass, they waded through the water and reached the gated portcullis. Kveldulf looked at the gate and after running fingers along the stone edge turned to Maeryn. “There’s no track here.”

“What?”

“The gate isn’t retracted at all. It’s just a door.”

Maeryn removed an arrow from her quiver. “Well then, let’s see if little lock will be nice or a pain.”

“You think an arrow head will pop it open?”

“Oh no, but if we’re lucky, it’ll destroy the lock, but it will also loosen the hook on the outside so you can lift it up with a sword’s edge.”

“Has it worked before?”

“Every so often, usually with older locks,” she said as the locked popped open and fell to the ground. “Well, that was … you know I’m just not going to complain.”

“Agreed,” said Kveldulf. “Why don’t you get back to the others and let them know we’re good.”

“Right,” she said regretfully, “Such is our lot in life for the quiet and nimble.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby.”

Maeryn playfully mocked Kveldulf silently before rushing off to regroup with the others. As he waited inside the opened way, he heard familiar chirping. Only there seemed to a different quality to them. This wasn’t random noises with little rhyme or reason. One chirp would be answered by another. As if … no, he thought, they weren’t.

Kveldulf felt his air stand up on end as he listened to the chatter continue. He turned around, staring in the darkness almost expecting a monstrous creature to come out and drag him into the depths of oblivion. He felt his hands shake and sweat bead over his forehead as the others made their way to him.

He watched as they moved in groups of two over the moat. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Benkin said.

“Murmeks,” Kveldulf confirmed.

“Out-fucking-standing,” Benkin replied.

“How did they manage that?” asked Hypatia.

“Probably just used ants metaphor them into humanoid form,” Leonidas replied.

“Would that mean they lose their strength?” Cid asked.

“That I don’t know, but I hope that is the case,” Leonidas answered.

Reaching a second door, Maeryn pulled out a lockpicking kit and began working on the lock.

“Wait, how come you didn’t use that for the first door?” Kveldulf asked.

“This is a far more complex lock, that last one looked like it didn’t need a lot of time and attention.”

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After a couple of clicks and clacks, Maeryn’s face lit up as she pushed the door open and looked inside. On the other side of the door was a corridor, well lit all the way through.

“And now I am all kinds of suspicious,” said Cid.

“Can we volunteer a guard to set off the traps again?” asked Silvius.

“Oh if only,” Jeanne replied.

“Well, there’s no good way to find out,” said Cid, taking a gingerly step inside. He looked down at his foot, then turned back to the others. “I think it’s all right.”

Moving down the corridor came to a door and a cautious push, found long four dead prisoners. Their arms were chained to the walls, preventing them from sitting on the ground.

“Gods, what is wrong with these people?” Maeryn asked.

“Only the gods know,” said Cid, “But let’s make them pay nonetheless.”

Moving through the hall, they cleared our room after room after with more unfortunate souls long since passed. At the end of the corridor, they arrived to a massive dungeon filled with devices of pain and torture. Wooden horses, brazen bulls, bloodied breast rippers, thumbscrews, pears of anguish, scavenger’s daughters, stretching wheels and racks, iron maidens, hanging cages, were but a few in the exhibition to this barbarity. Many of them had fresh corpses on them.

“Why are these people still here?” Benkin asked, incensed.

“I think they’re too close to what they’re planning to care anymore,” Cid said to them. ‘Let’s get moving, I doubt they’ll be waiting to give us a warm welcome.”

Quickly moving to the other side of the dungeon and up a stair case, they reached the next level. Before them was an antechamber, plain in design and decorations. The stone grey in tone and a series of braziers hanging from the ceiling provided light. Thumping noises came the other side. The Wolves, weapons out moved to the door as they heard the voice from before speak to them.

“Once again, I am impressed by your unyielding spirit. There are few you can say they have faced a Bukavac and live to tell the tale in true honesty.”

“Well, we’re so glad to give you that,” Jeanne said.

“But the hour has come for the tide to turn against the usurper. To burn away the weakness she has bred within her city and my people.”

“As we saw downstairs,” said Kveldulf.

“The price for progress is sometimes paid in the blood of patriots. Few understand the need for the blade to drive civilization forward to greatness and glory.”

“Perhaps we should have this conversation face to face,” Cid demanded. “And not behind a veil of shadows, Callanband.”

“I think you might be right,” the voice replied calmly. “I can see one mistake which should be tended to promptly.”

Both opened slowly on their own power. Revealing a large room on the other side. Much of the sunk in, two steps deep, the floor covered in marble. Within the space stood hundreds of murmeks, clad in armor and holding spears with swords hanging on their sides. At the far end was a stone ring, stretching to the very top of the ceiling, the inside red, moving like water on the surface.

Before this was a man, wearing a knightly cloak and dressed in black plate armor. He looked at The Wolves, nodding contemplatively before speaking. “Now we can speak face to face, without any interruptions,” he said to them.

“Umm,” said Silvius, pointing to the murmeks with his rapier. “What about them?”

“Oh, they will not do anything without my orders.”

“How, lovely,” Kveldulf said.

“Certain makes it easier to discuss things cordially when the clashing of steel does not fill the air,” the figure replied. He turned his gaze up, sniffing the air. “Hmm interesting.”

“Dare we ask?” Cid responded.

“There is a scent in the air, one I was not expecting to experience,” the figure said turned his attention back to The Wolves. “A scent of … kinship.”

“That’s just weird,” said Leonidas.

“Not with you,” the figure replied.

Leonidas shook his head with relief. “Never mind, then.”

“No … there is another,” the figure said, staring at Kveldulf. “Ah, so there is still a White Horse among us.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Kveldulf demanded training his flamberge to the figure.

“I had not thought our line still lived,” the figure said, pulling back the hood, revealing a face which chilled Kveldulf’s blood.

“Baeron?” he said weakly.

“In the flesh,” Baeron said, taking a small bow.

“But what of the tokens of Callanband back at the Unyielding Fortress?” Silvius asked.

“Ah, those were token Belthory kept for her beloved. She thought we reclaimed my city; we could bring her cur of a husband back.”

“You used her?” Cid said.

“No more than they used me, than they used all of those poor wretches who bled and died for our homes, our people.”

“Then why do this?” Kveldulf asked. “Why do any of this?”

“I swore on my father’s deathbed I would protect my city from all who would endanger it. And that includes leaders who care more who one dresses than how one feeds themselves. For centuries, these betters have allowed those in their charge to starve, freeze, steal, and murder simply to see another dawn. And they called me a monster.”

“You impaled people!” Kveldulf challenged.

“I executed traitors as was within my right,” Baeron responded.

“What of the women and children?”

“You slay one of a family, the others will long for vengeance. You end the line, and the threat is averted. Simple as that.”

“That’s why they wanted to wipe us out!” Kveldulf shouted. “You made them hate us! Then and now!”

“People do not know what to hate, nor love. They are molded as their betters want them to be. That’s how it’s been since the dawn of civilization. The question, will they follow one who will guide them to glory or ruin?”

“You’re mad!”

“Mad is but a word for one willing to do what is needed,” said Baeron. “But I do not have the luxury of time. My legions should be breaching the walls of the city at any moment. And I have to ensure Lady Allianna does not escape the justice which has far eluded her.”

Baeron turned, bowed his and turned to the portal. “Kill them,” he said before entering. The portal immediately closing afterwards. The murmeks turned, their spears trained to The Wolves, who immediately pulled the doors shut.

“Well this is a fine predicament,” said Silvius.

“Not now, Silvius!” Hypatia shouted.

“If we make it out of this, I am blaming you,” Leonidas told Jeanne.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, “Add that to the fucking list.”

Silvius tapped his foot rapidly speaking to himself.

“The hell’s gotten into him?” Kveldulf asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care, help us brace the door!” Cid answered.

Silvius, jumped on the balls of his feet and rushed over to one of the stone columns holding up the ceiling. He looked frantically for something on the rocky surface, murmuring, “Comeoncomeoncomeon!”

“Silvius,” Jeanne roared, “Get back here, or I’ll rip your manhood off and feed it to you!”

Silvius then slammed his fist against a stone and a large crash came from the other side. The sound of murmeks crying out in pain filling the air.

“Mind explaining?” Cid politely demanded.

“To keep details short, I remembered that the other room was where Callanband had this dinner where he invited most of his rivals. A sort of ‘water under the bridge’ sort of thing. And when he left to attend to another matter, the floor opened up and there were sharpened stakes waiting for his rivals below.”

“Oh,” Jeanne said. “Then never mind the removal of your manhood.”

“Much obliged.”

“I’ll just take your spleen.”

Silvius shrugged. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t say something of the like.”

“Oh no,” she said, “I’m becoming predictable.”

“And we shan’t have –” Leonidas said as a sword began cleaving its ways through the door.

“So much for hoping it’d took all of them,” said Benkin.

“Take positions!” said Cid, readying himself.

“What positions?” Jeanne cried out.

“Oh yeah, wedge formation!”

They flanked Cid, weapons drawn as the Murmeks broke down the doors and lunged forward. Cid fired his shield’s blade into one as Maeryn struck down another with her bow. Hypatia slashed one foe as blocking another’s strike. Silvius parrying and shoving the length of his blade into a murmek’s head. Kveldulf cleaved one of the monsters into two with his sword as Jeanne slammed the spike of her hammer into a creature’s skull and ripped part of the skull out.

Leonidas blocked one attack with his sword as he crushed the fiend’s torso with a twirl of his staff. Benkin sliced one murmek’s head into two with his sword as he severed another’s arm clean off. As the Wolves kept killing the foe, more poured into the room. Soon joined by guards from the walls began arriving to engage them in mortal combat.

“Fall back to the lower level,” Cid ordered. He grabbed an orb hanging off his side and after pressing a button tossed it into the mob into the fray. The monsters looked down as The Wolves rushed down the stairs as a large boom erupted behind them.

Reaching the lower level, Kveldulf slammed the door shut, he and Benkin grabbing some tables and placing them against the door. Leonidas and Jeanne both frantically writing runes on the door. Leaving the that room, they raced down the hall, Jeanne and Leonidas repeating the same lettering on the door leading to the portcullis.

“What are you two writing,” Maeryn asked.

“A parting gift for our hosts,” said Leonidas as a large thundering boom followed.

“It’ll keep them busy while we get out of here,” Jeanne.

“Good thinking,” said Cid, “Let’s get out here, before there’s no city left to save.”