200 CHPT 200: Omen
An omen, warning, signal. An event regarded as a portent of good or evil.
Such a foretelling of an event was written all over the hairless smoking wolven monster at the edge of the forest.
The dark telling of the future could be seen in the twitch of its muscles and tendons beneath the stretch of inky black skin. In its bladed sharp claws that thirsted for blood. And— the easiest to tell, the head. The snarling head that shot off smoky projections of other Wolves, all sharing and mixing to make up the massive body of the Phantom Legion.
The heads howled to the sky, singing their soundless song of violence to the crescent gaze of Luna before fizzling out and losing their murky form. Leaving only one solid head— shared by many, dominated by Ashe.
Within each of her— shared, 6 eyes, a different omen was written in the guaranteed blood of lost lives. An omen that showed itself as a memory— a memory of their Alpha in his true form. A form often only ever seen in the face of one thing— in pursuit of one goal.
She'd get him to that goal— make that omen a reality. But first, she had to follow the urge that all of her fellow Wolves had within. The urge to take part in the violence that took place in the clearing ahead.
***
When the battle broke out, the WereWolf retreated behind the thin skinned walls of the Raider base, leaving Claude in a slightly discomforted state of mind while he fought the Gnolls. He still didn't know what the WereWolf planned to do with his….research— or what it was, and he was gifted no time to consider the thought.
Despite the Gnoll's critical injuries, they still proved difficult to fight with his focus split and eyes wandering. They demanded all of his attention and might— a fact that would change very soon.
Currently, Claude and Frosty were on the defensive against the pack of 8 Gnolls— a feat that would've been impossible to pull off if not for the Glorian Lion's deadly feline stealth.
Now, with their constant loss of blood and severed leg tendons, it was barely manageable. With his speed and disruption from the Glorian Lion, he could survive, he could fight.
***
"Come on you smelly ass demon dogs…" Claude said as he faced off with two Gnolls from beside Frosty— who was tied up with his own opponent. The remaining 5 blindly swung and stomped across the grass in search of the stealthy feline that approached in glimpses when the Moon's rays splashed onto its fur.
The two he faced had easily understood origins with the Gnoll on the left resembling a white and grey Wolf— if Wolves stood on two legs, wore armor and had oddly discernible beards. The other Gnoll came from something less menacing, but somehow looked worse.
With a longer snout covered in baggy loose skin and ears that hung like wet socks, the Gnoll came from the belly of some sort of hound. But, where hounds— especially bloodhounds, faces droop into bored expressions of sadness, the extra sagging meat on its face was instead twisted into an expression of rage.
But that was the only bit of looseness the creature showcased. Beneath its plethora of armor from different stolen sets, the dark reddish brown fur of the creature was wrapped over deceptively long and thick limbs.
"[You need to focus on one and stick to the side of its injured leg. As good as your stamina is, you can't run them all down before needing to execute the rest of your plan.]" Arne pointed out.
"I'm….trying." Claude forced out as he lunged out of the way of a swing from the hound type Gnoll with its rusted and chipped sword.
Before he could say anything else, the wolven Gnoll appeared in front of him with an axe it idiotically used to try and execute a lunge with.
Woo!
Claude sidestepped and slammed his foot down on the butt of the rusted weapon that smelled of old human blood, causing the blade to slide deep into the earth. As soon as it sunk into the ground, vines and roots burst from the underneath, wrapping around the weapon and inching up towards the Monster's shaggy haired arm.
While this happened, the other Gnoll had it's calf muscle shredded to ribbons mid charge after him.
He used the distraction as an ideal time to go for a killing blow on the Monster he rooted.
Shlck!
With an uppercutting motion made with his sword hand, the blade ripped its way through the Gnoll's throat as it leaned over with its axe held into the earth.
There was still some fight left in the creature, shown with every bite and snap made despite the chronic loss of blood.
Before he could finish the creature, Frosty yelped at his right causing him to spin around and see a thin line of red across his hulking shoulder and the Hyena-like Gnoll across from him holding up a machete tipped with red.
Red. As soon as his eyes fell on the blood, time lost importance— realism, and his vision was drowned in the color of violence.
SHLCK!
He ripped the sword from the Gnoll's neck that it was lodged in and threw it like an overgrown throwing knife at the Monster that cut Frosty.
Shnk!
With an unintentional roar, he threw the weapon in a flash across the field to sink into the Gnoll's thick neck like a knife through butter.
The Monster stumbled unevenly while it barked and growled, making the sounds in a newly liquid filled tone.
Without a moments hesitation, he turned back to the dying Gnoll and clasped his hand over the back of its head, holding it in place as he drove his knee into its snout with a wet crunch.
Woo!
CRNCHSH!
[+125 EXP]
The dead Gnoll hit the floor with a rooted arm, smashed face, opened throat and missing weapon.
***
Frosty was eyeing the monster that had just cut it warily when he suddenly heard a roar followed by a sword slicing through his opponents neck. The PitWolf didn't even question where the weapon came from, just awaited direction. Direction that came in the form of a familiar click.
The PitWolf responded to their usual way of combat— spoken in commands through clicks that meant for the PitWolf to attack from the opposite side of Claude.
Swoo!
Once behind the Gnoll that stumbled unevenly while it tried to pull the sword from its throat, he grabbed ahold of its injured leg, covered in blood caked fur.
CrsH!
Frosty locked his jaws around its leg as the Gnoll tried to shake him free, causing his body to resemble the movements he makes when he plays tug o' war with Claude— only now it looked much more exaggerated.
Immediately after, something snarled in front of the Gnoll followed by a meaty chop that vibrated down the Monster's entire body.
[+125 EXP]
Frosty let go as the Gnoll fell to its knees, hitting the ground with a thud as blood and pieces of brain dripped from its head that was cut brutally straight down the middle.
Claude loomed over the monster for a fraction of a second, holding the axe in one hand while the fingers of the other stretched, causing each black claw to lengthen. The intelligence in his eyes returned with the memory of his purpose, causing him to drop the axe, retrieve his sword and whistle to Frosty.
***
"[Now?]" Arne questioned within his mind as Claude and Frosty put distance between themselves and the five distracted Gnolls ahead.
"Now." Claude affirmed before yelling the same words out to the Phantom Wolves who waited patiently in the forest.
From behind the Gnolls who stomped and swung at the assumed position of the unseen Glorian Lion, a large black mass exploded from the woodland in a blur of muscle smoke and 6 glowing orbs.
Now that he watched the figure clearly for the first time, he noticed smoky black apparitions of extra legs erupted from the Legion's ribs like a monstrous canine centipede with multiple heads. To see the creature running in his direction was without a doubt, terrifying.
The Gnolls picked up on the heavy footsteps of the monster and quickly spun around to face it— no longer interested in the losing game of hide and seek they played with the Lion.
Some of the creatures growled defiantly while others dropped to all fours, looking to make a break for it— only they couldn't.
Wooden limbs. Lined with roots and supported by vines shook the ground around them as they rose up to hold them tightly, leaving the pack of monsters as sitting ducks against the Phantom Legion.
***
What followed was a bloodbath. The Phantom Legion ripped through the smaller Gnolls, biting off heads and limbs with deadly efficiency. But it wasn't alone. The Glorian Lion didn't waste the opportunity and silkily weaved its way through the madness to pounce on the ill fated Monsters that ripped through the binds and attempted to escape. Claude and Frosty cleaned up the rest quickly and in sync.
After a handful of long bloody seconds, they all stood in the field surrounded by wooden and vine riddled effigies of multi fingered clawed hands holding the remains of Gnolls while other parts of the field were littered with fur covered heads and arms.
[+400 EXP]
DING!
[Your Companion has Leveled Up!]
[Companion Skill, (Intimidation) is now Level 2!]
[Your Companion is now Level 14!]
Frosty stood beside him snarling as he smashed the bodiless heads of dead Gnolls like they were oversized watermelons— the PiWolf had no interest in the term overkill when it came to Gnolls. He seemed unfazed by his level up.
Claude stood at the center of the madness, long black hair hiding his eyes that glowed bright with bloodlust while his mask shielded the vision of his bared teeth coated with saliva.
Revenge was close. Just barely out of reach, close enough for his claws to graze it.
He stood in the grass breathing heavily for a moment as he listened to the sounds of the area, head down and sharp ears peaking through his hair— twitching at each noise. Each droplet of blood that fell from his sword into the grass, each breath of the predatory companions that circled him in wait, each whine of the bound and gagged Raiders inside.
The easiest sound to hear was of the only unbound individual inside. The WereWolf— who cursed and mumbled psychotically after easily hearing his loss of followers.
The WereWolf was in his way. A roadblock in his metaphorical path towards righting a wrong that should've been fixed ages ago.
The thought of it filled him with resolve and focused anger. Anger focused towards the Shape-Shifter he yelled for in his other voice— absent of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the monster that waited beneath the man's skin. All he knew was, everything in his way would be moved. Or he would die trying.
A simple fact that stilled him, and prepared him for what was to come.
"Either you come out. Or….we come in, but if we do….you won't see us coming."
