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Hungry

The city burned. Corin passed empty streets. He passed streets littered with bodies. Blood had flowed freely. The siege of the city had been a success. He hadn’t been sure what had happened to The Venerable Razors. He didn’t care. Things finally felt right. He followed a scent finding someone’s discarded arm. The hunger within him blossomed. He continued down the streets, taking an occasional bite of the arm. He could still hear the shouts of fighting in the distance. It would probably be the wights, the city’s defenders or maybe his own soldiers. There was a part of him that wished to continue to be connected with his band of mercenaries, but it didn’t matter anymore.

He found himself at one of the inner walls. One of the large gates had collapsed inward. He could see the fires still burning within. Corin had not grown up in a city. It was still a novel experience. He would have been looking around and taking in the buildings, but something had caught his attention. There was a combination of movement and a smell. There might have even been a noise. He wasn’t sure. It had sparked curiosity within him. He dropped the arm that he had idly been feeding on and looked. There was a door. Something important was behind it. Something made him speak.

“Is anyone there?” he whispered.

There was a shuffling sound followed by silence. Corin grew excited. His muscles tensed and breaths grew shorter.

“Can anyone hear me?” he whispered.

“Who do you swear to?” Came a question.

The memories of the dead filtered through his head. He could remember the soldier that he had partially eaten. He rattled out an answer. He could hear the sound of barricades being shifted aside and multiple voices. Corin’s skin started to itch as he thought more about the man he had eaten. It was painful and it was not quick. Something within him was guiding him. His hand wiped at his mouth in an attempt to wipe away the blood that had dried around his mouth. Corin smelled like death. He had been fighting heavily. There was a momentary surprise when he found he didn’t have his claws anymore.

The door opened. Corin hadn’t been thinking and was still wearing the armor from The Venerable Razors. The person behind the door cursed and started to close it. Corin cursed and yelled at the individual behind the door. He pushed against the man trying to keep the door shut. Corin was gaining ground. The man yelled for help and the door started to close. Corin pulled a dagger from his belt and pushed it into the jamb of the door to prevent it being closed completely. The dagger would be ruined later, but Corin was more concerned with getting inside.

Corin could feel the connections between him and the others of his kind. He mentally pulled the strongest connection.

“Get them out of here,” the voice at the door shouted, “Go!”

Corin grinned at the self sacrifice and redoubled his efforts. The man was easy to overpower. Charging footsteps pulled his attention towards a charging enemy soldier. No, he wasn’t an enemy. He was just dressed like one. The soldier slammed into the door. The sudden shock caused the man keeping the door closed to fall. Corin was first inside. He pinned the man down.

“Help me keep him down,” Corin ordered.

The soldier complied and switched places.

“Who were you protecting?” Corin asked.

The man didn’t answer and tried to fight to his feet. He screamed as Corin started to cut into his legs with his claws. Both Corin and the nameless soldier laughed at his pain.

“Do you want a turn?” Corin asked.

The soldier laughed with glee and set about cutting rents into the man’s legs with his claws as Corin was holding him down. The man tried to punch Corin. The soldier caught the arm and bit the man’s hand, ripping free a chunk of flesh. Corin was enjoying himself. The soldier was too. With a head gesture the soldier pushed back, as did Corin. They watched the man try to push away with one working arm. His legs had become dead weight. His other arm was still working but there was no way he would ever have a working hand again.

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Corin started laughing as he watched the man, “Who were you protecting?”

The soldier beside him started laughing as well, “I remember you!”

The man on the ground looked at the soldier, just now realizing they wore the same uniform. The soldier laughed hard noticing the man’s realization. Corin started to laugh too. He stood up, and propped the man up against a wall. Panic drew across his face. Both Corin and the soldier took their time killing the man. When they finished they set about pulling pieces from the corpse. The soldier hadn’t been frenzied.

“Do you know who gave you the gift?” Corin asked as he leaned back on the wall.

The soldier shrugged, “It was some woman.”

“Ah, Aude, she was an elder from a small oasis settlement.”

“Was it Sedna?”

“That’s the one!” Corin said as he pulled more flesh free from the bone.

“I grew up there,” The soldier said.

“Dreams of the city?”

“Hardly. My family used to work with leather and moved here when I was in my teens.”

“I see.”

“What’s your name?” asked Corin.

“Mathos,” the man replied.

“Very well Mathos, do you happen to have an idea of who this man was protecting?”

“It was probably the city lord and his family.” Mathos answered.

“I have an idea,” Corin said, “Do you want to hunt them down?”

Corin focused on the man that they were eating, each bite solidified the picture of the man in his mind. His skin had started to tingle again like it had earlier when he tried to break into the room by himself. He could feel his bones and muscles adjusting to look like the man. His claws once again retracted.

“How do I look?” Corin said with a grin.

“How did you do that?” asked Mathos, mystified.

Corin described the process. Mathos listened intently, but didn’t try it on his own. He did retract his claws, however. When they picked the bones clean they cracked the skull and ate the brain. Mathos wanted to start breaking bones to eat the marrow. While Mathos was busy with that Corin set himself with the task of cleaning himself up and finding a change of clothes. He didn’t want anything too dirty, just something that would help sell the story that they fought off a monster. Corin noted the change in his attitude. He was far more interested in his current project than he was for the fate of The Venerated Razors. Fetahken had fallen and he had moved on to something far greater.

Qinran and Omar were quick to leave the ship after their work had finished. The captain paid Qinran his wages while angrily eying Omar. Qinran wore one of the cloaks, and stopped wearing the head wraps. People stared at him but they weren’t as hostile as the guards had been at the outpost.

“You should pick up gambling,” said Omar.

“I can gamble, but I only know the games from the island.” Qinran replied.

“That makes sense.”

“So, here’s the plan as I see it,” Omar stated, “We’re going to head to the tower and find Master Aloeus Errington.”

Qinran nodded, they had gone over it multiple times already. He figured it was better to keep things fresh. He was in a strange land and it would be good to have some kind of goal in mind.

“You’ll have to do all the talking,” said Omar.

“Why do I have to do the talking?” Qinran asked.

“Wizards in the tower don’t really take anyone serious that is below the age of 20.”

“Ah, I see,” Said Qinran as he eyed Omar.

“I can get by with a lot more because I’m young,” Omar said, “If I get into any serious trouble you’ll have to play the part of a guardian.”

“So, I’m going to be your parent?”

Omar shook his head from side to side, “I guess so.”

When the pair got away from the docks, they turned to a bustling street. Omar was in the lead. Omar seemed to know the city well. They entered an unassuming building. Another elf stood behind the counter. Omar got her attention with a wave.

“May I help you?”

“My guardian and I need to find a caravan heading to The Second Tower.”

Qinran nodded, resting a hand on Omar’s shoulder.

“Do you have any identification?”

Both Qinran and Omar put their papers that had been issued to them on the counter. The woman checked them over and started silently cursing. She looked at Qinran with an apologetic smile.

“What’s wrong?” Qinran asked.

“These seem to have been filled out wrong.”

Qinran followed her finger as she pointed at various squiggles that were next to other squiggles.

“I’m sorry, this is my first time coming here.”

The elf eyed him and then looked at Omar. She looked over Omar’s paperwork.

“You’re the Guardian of this young man?” she asked.

Qinran and Omar nodded. She sighed.

“One moment,” and she ducked down from the desk.

When she came back up she started filling in forms for both Qinran and Omar. She asked a few questions which Omar easily answered. Qinran tried to stick to the truth where he could and only lied when it came to his origin. When everything was filled out correctly, she destroyed the originals while cursing the racists at the borders. Qinran brought up the need for passage, and the elf found a caravan leaving that was accepting others to join just as travelers. Omar paid their fees with a few bills. The elf behind the counter bid them farewell and both Qinran and Omar went to the gate of the city where the caravan was gathering.