1 Prologue 1
"Sir, we are coming up on the hill now, but the Night wolves are hot on our tails." Deep in the wee hours of the night, in the forest of Darleen, a group of soldiers can be seen sprinting full speed from a pack of massive beasts.
"Keep tight men, we are almost there. Archers, mages keep the dirty mange's honest. No man shall be lost before we can assess the situation!" Standing at nearly 8 feet tall, 315 pounds, King Simpson, the baron of these lands, could be seen nimbly maneuvering betwixt the trees leading his men through to the other side of the forest.
Yet still, the wolves are persistent. As great beasts themselves, they have been patiently awaiting their next great feasts. You could even see the drool filled dark energy, poisonous to the touch, dripping from there midnight colored maws.
"Ahhhhhhh"
"F****** B**** A** M************"
"Sir, Damien and Louis have gone down on our left flank. We are falling fast." A soldier called out to the baron.
"Arrgghh, scrap it, we hold them here men. Kill the bloody beasts and recover our men." Enraged the Baron had already turned to bear down on the wolf-pack before the rest of the men could touch their blades.
*Simpson Boxing 3rd Form - Elated Mayhem.*
The rage filled baron seemed to near double in size as he began to rain his powerful fist upon the first wolf. Wolf after wolf, punch after punch, the baron went. Pretty soon the men had formed their lines and entered a gruesome battle as the number of wolves only seemed to grow with time.
Yet, led by the invigorating sight of Baron Simpson seemingly chewing through the wolf numbers, the soldiers steeled their hearts and pressed on. An hour into the fighting a horrifying figure appeared. A 3-star night wolf came stalking into the clearing. Staring at the fatigued baron as if a delicious midnight snack.
"Crap, there shouldn't be such a high leveled wild beasts this far into the border. Dang it, men fall back get to the orphanage and hold it. We should be safe there until morning!" Baron Simpson barked at his men. The mages and archers hiding behind the front line soldiers, as if on que, all unleashed their best A.O.E. attack upon the field cutting off the wolf packs approach.
Then, right as the men turn to high tail it once again, two more shadows appear next to the leading wolf both at the 2-star level of strength.
"What is going on? the Night wolves would never send out this much of their pack on a hunt. Shouldn't they be defending themselves from the Firestarter's." Carter, one of the soldiers asked.
"You haven't noticed, yet." The Baron asked as they continued running.
"Noticed what, sir?"
"The Firestarters are a tiger species that enjoy moving around. Although its the third month of winter the snow would never get this deep, or cover this much ground if they were still here. Either they migrated or..." said Wayne, the Barons right hand man.
"Or they lost." said the baron in a grim voice, realizing the implications this would have on his lands. "This is going to be a long winter."
"Sir, I think I see the hermits orphanage. It seems not all the Firestarters are gone." As the men came upon the clearing, some of them couldn't help but marvel as this place looked nearly untouched by the winter chill.
"Sir, the night wolves are retreating. They are leaving we are safe!" One of the soldiers called out.
"Not in the slightest men calm your hearts this isn't over. If they are retreating then that means there must be something that scares them living in this area. Stay on you toes." Although the baron seemed to remain calm he couldn't help but wonder to himself. 'Could that old coot have recovered from the sickness? Is that even possible?'
"Sir, up ahead a group of Firestarters."
"Men keep calm, hush your steps... wait." As the men got closer they began to realize that the tiger-like beast seemed almost incorporeal. Yet, they could still feel the heat they naturally give off. As the men were confused the Firestarters began to roar at the top of their lungs and soon a horde of beastial spirits descended in front of the men.
"Sir, what do we do? We aren't strong enough to fight spirits and we didn't bring an exorcist." Wayne asked to the baron.
"We pray, I guess. This should be it boys it was nice getting to meet you boys. I'll see you guys soon in hell." The baron said light-heartedly.
"Wait, boss that kid looks real. Is he with these spirits?" Carter asked.
"What kid?" As the baron looked around he spotted, a dark skinned boy not even 10 years of age, carrying a spear, wearing orphans rags. "Hey kid are you a spirit?" The baron asked half heartedly, not really expecting an answer.
"No." The boy raised his hand and all the beastial spirits halted their approach.
"Boy, you control these spirits?" The baron asked in awe as he looked around at the sheer number of beasts.
"Yes."
"Well, umm could you call them back, we mean no harm."
"No. I don't know you."
"Kid this is your baron, how dare you refuse his orders?" Carter asked in an irate fashion which in turn began to irritate the spirits.
*Caw*
*Raargghh*
*rrrribbiittt*
"Shut up, Carter and get back in line." Wayne yelled.
"Son, are you an orphan at that orphanage over there?" The baron asked attentively.
"Yes,"
"Oh, good I am a former student of the hermit, I received a letter from him detailing the crisis he said was coming. I am here to take a look at the situation but I think I have seen it. May you take me to him for a talk?" The baron asked.
"You're late."
"I understand but mail, takes quite awhile to get to the city from out here." the baron spoke.
"No, you're too late. Everyone is dead. Only I and the spirits remain here." The boy said.
"So, the old man didn't recover after all. Damn." The baron said disappointed and heartbroken at the loss of his teacher. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?" The baron said trying to be gentle. Though it just seemed pretty creepy with his size.
"Beasts come. Too many beasts they have a...umm... big fight here. Kill everyone. The old man tried his best, but 4-star beasts come. Too many for the old man. He fall." the kid couldn't help but get choked up remembering the tragedy.
