[FENRIS REACH, FAR SOUTH OF HAVEN'S CREST/ SAME MORNING]
In the flourishing, lush green field, quaint village houses dotted the landscape. Gardens were cultivated, with every leaf and stone precisely placed, creating a neat and orderly appearance. The road stretched ahead, empty and inviting, lined with houses crafted with sturdy wood and tightly bound rope.
Inhabiting these lands were half-human, half-wolf creatures, their most noticeable features being their furry ears and expressive tails. Fur colors varied, some red, white, black, brown, but one grey one was particularly noticeable. She was a semi-tall female with long, grey hair flowing down her back, her sensitive grey ears twitching as she turned her head to the left, her piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly. "I thought I told you guys to be careful," she said, a hint of irritation lacing her voice. She wore a black tunic over her chest, paired with matching black pants, boots, and a cropped white jacket with light brown fur trim at the collar. Her grey tail swayed gently as she turned to face her kin, who appeared to be carrying crates toward a building.
"You know you could give us a hand here, Faelan!" Shouting, the man slowly made his way to the building with the box, placing it at the entrance as his black tail gently swished while turning to face Faelan. "This stuff is kind of heavy, you know, we could use the extra muscle, chief. "He said to her, his golden eyes slightly narrowing as he smirked at her. Unlike Faelan, his attire with a simple cream shirt with brown pants and boots.
Faelan sighed at the comment. "Why is it that a male is asking for the strength of the female?" She crossed her arms. "Have you no shame, Jago? Can you at least act like a leading general or something?" She rolled her eyes.
"Now why would I do that?" Jago responded as he set another box down. "That would mean more work for me, while you get to lie around all day."
Faelan's ears twitched with irritation at Jago's words, her tail giving a sharp flick. "I hardly 'lay around all day' you mangy mutt," She retorts, though there's no real heat behind her words. "Someone has to keep this village from falling apart while you're out playing fetch with merchants."
Jago ignored her comment as he set the last crate down. "There, that should be the last of it. Not our usual haul, but shipment has been tight since the Order upped their security on the roads. The Dwarves don't even want to risk sending out a carrier to us." Jago spoke, his voice taking on a hint of concern.
Faelan's ears twitch again in annoyance as she approaches the crates, effortlessly lifting the top of the one that Jago had struggled with.
"The Order's getting bolder by the day. "She mutters, kneeling to inspect one of the crates, only to see barely half the usual provisions inside. Her blue eyes narrow as she calculates mentally. "This won't even last us through the month." She says, crossing her arms as she continues to stare at their new shipment. "First, the elves, their kind, now they're cutting off our trade routes."
Jago crossed his arms as well. "The Order's been pushing further south; their scouts were spotted near Blackpaw ridge last week."
Faelan watched him for a moment, then bit her thumb lightly, her eyes narrowing. "That close, huh? They used to stop their patrols at Stone Valley…Now…" She continued to think
"Do you think they'll eventually make their way here?" Jago questioned. "It's not like we've ever had a real problem with them to be on their hit list." He added.
"And when have you known that to matter to them?" Faelan asked in response. "The Order doesn't need a reason. In their minds, their excuse is 'we're not human enough' for their liking—that's all the excuse they need." She moves to the edge of the path that leads to the hut behind her. "They've been pushing boundaries for years, but this is different. Something's changed. They're not just patrolling anymore—they're expanding."
Her tail swishes anxiously behind her as she turns to Jago. "And as if that wasn't enough, there's been an increase in Blight Beast lately." She sighs. "It's one problem after another."
Jago's ears flatten slightly against his head, his golden eyes darkening with concern. "Blight Beasts and the Order…Not exactly the neighbors I'd choose," He mutters, scratching behind his ear. "Think there's a connection? The timing seems…Convenient."
Faelan considers the possibility as she turns her head back to the provisions. "Maybe. The Order's never shown interest in these lands before. Now suddenly they're pushing south while Blight Beasts multiply?" She took a deep breath. "Whatever's happening, we need to prepare. Send scouts to the Eastern ridge—I want eyes on every Order movement within fifty miles."
Jago nods, his expression grim. "And the provisions?"
"Ration them," Faelan responds. "With the Order having a chokehold on our trade routes, we're going to need to stretch what we have for as long as we can. Also," She turned to face him. "Keep this quiet for now. I don't want to cause panic until we know what's going on."
Jago nods, his tail now still-a sign of his seriousness. "What about reaching out to other clans? The Saberfangs to the West might—"
"No," Faelan cuts him off. "Not yet, the moment we start gathering, the Order will have the excuse they need to label us as a threat." Her blue eyes are narrow. "For now, we watch and wait. Something bigger is happening, and I want to know what before we make our move."
Faelan's ears twitch at a distant sound, her instincts immediately on alert. She raises her nose slightly, testing the air.
"There's something else." She murmurs, her voice dropping to ensure only Jago can hear. "The winds have changed. I can smell it—magic, old magic, stirring again."
Jago's golden eyes widen slightly. "You don't think—"
"I don't know what to think." She breathed. "I just know we need to be ready before—"
"FAELAN!" The conversation was suddenly interrupted but the sound of happy children. "FAELAN! FAELAN!" A young half-human-half-wolf pup howled, and then several other pups that looked just like him, boys and girls, joined in.
Faelan's stern expression instantly softens as the children surround her, their small tails wagging excitedly. She kneels to their level, ruffling the fur on the head of the closest pup.
"Hey there, what's got you all so worked up today?" She asks, her voice gentle in a way it only becomes around the young ones.
"Jago said he would teach us how to hunt today!" One of the little girls said from behind the boy.
"Yeah, but he's been working all day." Whined the boy as Jago kneeled beside Faelan.
"Now, now," Jago said as he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I promised, didn't I? And what's the first rule of the pack?" He asked as the children chanted together.
"Never break a promise!" Faelan watches with a hidden smile as Jago organizes the excited pups. When he catches her eye, they both nod their heads, signaling that they'll finish their conversation later.
"Go on then," she says with a dismissive wave. "Just stay within the boundary stones."
Jago smiles as he turns his attention back down to the pups. "You heard her, kiddos, let good ole Jago teach you how to hunt." He points to himself with a cocky smirk, causing a slight giggle to escape Faelan."
Faelan watches as Jago leads the excited pups away, their small tails wagging frantically as they pepper him with questions. Her smile fades once they're out of sight, her thoughts returning to the trouble matters at hand.
"Keep them safe." She whispers to herself, the words lost in the wind, as she turns back toward the meager provisions. Shaking her head, she looked at them, then back at the fleeting Jago, her brow furrowed in confusion. "You could have at least put the crates inside, you lazy wolf!" she barked, her voice echoing with annoyance.
"Sorry, can't hear you!" Jago screamed back, but his voice faded away over the hill. "I'm surrounded by little pups who desperately need my guidance!" He shouted back.
"You can hear me just fine!" Faelan comically screamed back at the top of her lungs as her ears twitching with annoyance as she stared at Jago's retreating form, her tail swishing behind her. That man…."
Faelan sighs dramatically, her ears flattening in mock annoyance as she stares at the crates. "Every single time." She mutters, effortlessly hoisting a crate that Jago had struggled with. "And he calls himself a general." She sighed again. "This is what I get for making him second-in-command." She huffs as she carries the rest of the crates in.
[THE CATHEDRAL]
Alaric sat upon his throne inside the grand cathedral. Knights stood in formation along the walkway, the sun glinting off their swords, which were planted into the earth, creating a striking path up to the cathedral doors.
Alaric's red pupils lowered as he thought about his past meeting with Cassian and to what ends she intends to retrieve his son, the elves, and the shard. "That damn wrench is a nuisance." He utters to himself with an irritated tone. "Her recklessness could ruin everything, yet the council does nothing to stop her." He gritted his teeth, grunting like an angry old man. "That woman will be the downfall of the Order if they keep letting an untamed beast like her run around…On second thought." A smirk played on his lips as he flashed a glance to his left, his red eyes scanning the lurking shadows.
"Warhammer," Alaric called out as the large, heavily armored paladin carrying a large silver and gold hammer stepped forward, quickly kneeling in front of him.
His massive frame casts a long shadow across the cathedral floor, his armor gleaming, reflecting the kaleidoscopic colors of the filtered light from the stained-glass windows. The Paladin's face is unseen, covered by his ornate helmet, but his voice rings out with unwavering loyalty.
"Lord Purifier." He intones, head bowed in reverence. "How may I carry out your divine wishes?"
Alaric smirks faintly, his gaze unwavering as he takes in the sight of the large figure kneeling before him. "I have a job for you," he stated, the words hanging heavy in the air.
[HOLLOWBROOK, FAR NORTH OF HAVENS CREST]
Across the smoldering ruins of Haven's Crest, far to the North, lay another village echoing with the sounds of its beastkin inhabitants. Like the Werebeast's village in Fenris Reach, this land was flourishing with vibrant green grass. A small, babbling river snaked along the village's edge, and vibrant gardens of vegetables painted the land beside each house in a patchwork of greens and reds.
A small, slightly chubby man stood in his garden, his hands stained with earth as he pulled a variety of vegetables, their earthy scent filling the air, and placed them in a woven basket. He seemed a bit aged, his grey rabbit ears drooping slightly beside his blue eyes. He wore a white collared shirt, brown pants, and matching brown shoes. As he knelt to pick up more vegetables, his small, fluffy grey tail puffed out behind him. Small glasses perched delicately on the bridge of his nose. As he pulled another earthy-smelling vegetable from the garden, three coarse whiskers vibrated on each side of his mouth as his lips curled curiously.
When he tried to pull a carrot from the ground, it wouldn't move. He tried comically, face reddening as he pulled with one hand, quickly realizing he would need two. He tugged with all his might, but the carrot wouldn't budge; then, with a sudden slip as his sweaty hands gave way, he yelped loudly as he landed hard on his rear.
"Ooooh, Stupid carrot." He grunted, a pained expression crossing his face, as he slowly got up, dusting himself off and placing his hands on his hips with a sigh. "It's always one that just has to put up a fight." He said to himself as he stared down at the carrot that was giving him a hard time.
"Sometimes, I think I should just leave this job to the youngsters." He spoke.
"You probably should, old timer." A calm, gentle, masculine voice spoke from behind him, making the smaller man turn his head slightly.
"Oh, Rowan, it's you." "He said, observing the taller, identically dressed man, save for his white hair and ears and the vitality burning in his blue eyes as he neared.
"How you doing, Warren?" Rowan said as he looked down at the garden that Warren was working on. "I see you found yourself another garden giving you trouble." He gently smiled.
Warren huffs indignantly, adjusting his glasses with soil-stained fingers. "This garden isn't giving me trouble. Just this one stubborn carrot that thinks it owns the place." He grumbles, pointing accusingly at the offending vegetable.
"Been growing them for sixty years, and they still find ways to vex me." He quickly turns his eyes towards Rowan. "Just like you did when you were a kit."
Rowan couldn't help but chuckle, his white ears perking up as he knelt beside the older rabbit kin. "Here, let me help before you throw your back out again." He offers, grasping the carrot's leafy top. "The youngsters need you teaching, not lying up in bed." He said with a single firm pull, Rowan extracts the massive carrot, holding it up triumphantly while Warren crosses his arms.
"Show off," Warren mutters, though his whiskers twitch with amusement.
Rowan grins, handing the enormous carrot to Warren with a playful smirk. "Not showing off—just saving your dignity. Imagine if the little ones saw you wrestling with a vegetable." His blue eyes twinkle with mischief. "Besides, all I did was use the knowledge you taught me when we used to pick vegetables together." He added.
Warren accepts the carrot with a harrumph, tucking it into his basket. "And clearly, you've forgotten half of it. You pulled too quickly—bruised the root."
Rowan shakes his head with a fond smile, helping Warren gather the remaining vegetables. "Some things never change," he says softly. "Still critiquing my technique after all these years."
Warren's whiskers twitch as he examines the basket's contents with pride. "Someone has to maintain standards around here; your sloppiness can't be what the young ones look up to…Speaking of…" He glanced over to look at Rowan. "The council meeting starts soon—Are you ready?" He questioned him as he placed another vegetable in the basket.
Rowan's expression shifts subtly, his ears lowering just a fraction. "As ready as I'll ever be. The news from the south isn't good."
Warren's whiskers droop slightly as he notices the change in Rowan's demeanor. He sets down his basket, dusting off his hands on his pants.
"That bad, is it?" He asks quietly, his jovial tone fading. "The Order again?"
Rowan nods solemnly, his white ears twitching nervously.
"Worse than we thought. The scouts returned this morning. Haven's Crest has fallen."
Warren's eyes widen, his whiskers trembling as he processes the news. His paws grip the basket handle tightly, knuckles whitening beneath his fur.
"Haven's Crest? But that's…" he whispers, voice trailing off as the implications sink in. "They were only a few days' journey from the nearest Order outpost."
Rowan nods grimly, his white ears flattening against his head. "The refugee village that would house anybody who was trying to get away from the Order," Rowan spoke solemnly. "The scouts can't say for sure what happened, but the village is completely eradicated, not a soul left," Rowan spoke, unaware that Aura was the reason for the villagers' silent escape, a secret known only to a select few.
Stunned by the news, Warren dropped his basket, his ears drooping. His shocked expression etched itself onto his face, making him appear every one of his sixty years.
"Sweet Mother Earth…" He murmurs, his voice barely audible. "All those people…Families…Children…"
Rowan places a gentle hand on Warren's shoulder, steadying the elder as he trembles with shock. "Don't worry, I'm planning on speaking about it at the meeting," Rowan stated as Warren continued to dread over the comment made earlier by Rowan.
"If they've taken Haven's crest…Then Hollowbrook could be next." Warren feared. "Those blood thirsty zealots, what are we going to do if they turn their sights to us?
"Warren," Rowan called his name.
"If they make their way here, we wouldn't stand a chance. They'd slaughter us like common house pests." Warren continued to overthink, his mind racing with endless possibilities.
"Warren," Rowan called again. "Warren!" He says sharply, gripping the older half-human-half-rabbit." We're not defenseless," Rowan continues, his voice calm but resolute.
"And we're not going to let fear consume us before we even know what we're facing. That's exactly what they want…That's not us, Warren. We've survived this long."
Warren's eyes refocus on Rowan, his breathing gradually steadying as the younger rabbit's calm presence grounds him. He adjusts his glasses with shaking hands.
"You're right," He whispers, his voice still trembling. "I just…seeing what they did to the elves, and now Haven's Crest…" He trails off, then straightens his shoulders with visible effort. "The youngsters need us to be strong." Rowan nods, releasing Warren's shoulders but staying close.
"That's why the council meeting is so important. We need to decide our next steps before panic spreads through the village." His blue eyes harden with determination. "The order may be ruthless, but they're not invincible." He added as Warren nodded, but slowly looked down at the now completely plucked garden.
"That may be so, Rowan, but for them to deal with Haven's Crest so completely…No…It's just as you said, Panic serves no one; we need to discuss this with the others. We need to plan for evacuation, station defensive positions…And whether we should reach out to the other settlements."
Rowan nods approvingly as Warren's practical nature reasserts itself. "Now that's the Warren I know. Come on, let's get to the meeting hall before the others start wondering where we are."
Warren picks up his fallen basket, dusting off the vegetables with practiced efficiency despite his trembling hands, his whiskers twitch as he regains his composure.
"Right, right. Can't have them thinking their elder's gone soft in his old age." He straightens his glasses and adjusts his shirt.
"Though I suspect young Fawn will have plenty to say about war tactics. That's girls been itching for a fight since the first Order patrol was spotted near Greenmeadow."
Rowan chuckles softly, though concern flickers in his blue eyes. "Fawn's enthusiasm might serve us well; I'm just a little concerned she might go a bit overboard. I'm more concerned for the Order if Fawn gets in her mood." Rowan chuckled as the two made their way towards the meeting hall.
Warren's whiskers twitch with a mixture of amusement and worry as they walk toward the meeting hall. "That girl has the heart of a warrior trapped in a healer's body." He mutters, shaking his head." Remember when she tried to 'negotiate' with the bandits last spring? Poor souls didn't know what hit them."
"Poor souls is understatement; that sadist made me feel like we should have stepped in to save them," Warren replied.
Rowan's ears twitch with nervous laughter as they approach the wooden meeting hall, a modest wooden structure echoing with quiet chatter at the village's heart.
"At least she channels that…intensity…toward protecting the village," he says diplomatically. "Though I still have nightmares about what she did to that bandit leader's kneecaps and elbows." He shutters.
Warren shudders visibly, alongside Rowan, his whiskers trembling at the memory.
"Healing magic works both ways,' she said. Sweet Mother Earth, the screams…The snaps…" Warren shakes his head vigorously, trying to dispel the memory as they reach the meeting hall's wooden steps. "Let's just hope the Order never gives her a reason to get…creative," he mutters, pushing open the heavy wooden door.
Inside, the hall buzzes with anxious conversation. Several rabbit-kin sit around a circular wooden table, their ears twitching nervously as hushed voices discuss the troubling news from the south.
"Ah, there they are," Calls out a young female voice from across the room." Warren, Rowan—We've been waiting." A tall, slender rabbit-kin, all soft white fur on ears and tail, paused her sketching, looking up with dangerously bright green eyes that scrutinized the parchment filled with anatomical diagrams. Her healer's robes were immaculate, a striking contrast of black and green, paired with polished black boots that offered a glimpse of her pale skin, but her smile held an unsettling, sharp edge.
"I hear we have some…visitors…to discuss," she says sweetly, her tone not matching her predatory gleam in her eyes.
Warren's ears flatten slightly as he catches Fawn's tone, while Rowan clears his throat nervously.
"Fawn," Rowan greets cautiously, taking his seat at the table. "Yes, we have news from the scouts. Though I'd prefer we discuss it calmly." Warren settles beside him, adjusting his glasses as he surveys the other members' worried faces.
One was a petite rabbit-kin whose wild, black hair tumbled down her back, partially obscuring, but never quite hiding, her twitching black ears. Her blue eyes narrowed at Warren and Rowan as they took a seat at the table. Barefoot, with tape wound tightly around her feet and hands, she resembled a seasoned brawler, ready for anything. She wore a somewhat loose outfit, comprised of a white sleeveless shirt and brown shorts smudged with dirt.
A large man sat beside her, arms crossed, and eyes closed in what looked like a tense meditation. His grey hair barely reached his neck, allowing his large, grey ears to stand out. He wore a coarse, brown, sleeveless vest over his bare chest, displaying his muscular but scarred arms, with tape wrapped tightly around his wrists and forearms. Black ragged pants flowed around his legs, ending in worn, brown, scuffed boots.
On his side sat a man who looked a bit younger than Rowan. His hair was also black but neatly trimmed compared to that of the wild hair rabbit-kin that sat two seats away from him. His black ears also showcase themselves. His brown eyes focused on both Warren and Rowan as they sat down. His outfit consisted of a simple grey shirt and a slim vest, completed with a medium-sized brown bow strapped securely to his back. His dark grey pants flowed seamlessly into his worn, brown leather boots. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, simply joining his hands together that were covered in brown gloves to match the boots that he wore.
"Haven's Crest has fallen," Warren announces without preamble, his voice heavy. "The refugee village was destroyed, according to the scouts."
Fawn's smile widens, her green eyes practically glowing with anticipation. "How unfortunate for them," She purrs, setting down her quill with deliberate precision. "I suppose that means we'll need to prepare a proper welcome for any Order forces that might…Wander out way."
The large grey-eared man's grey eyes slowly open, his meditation broken by the grim news. His scarred hands were clenching slightly. "How many survivors?" He asks gruffly, his deep voice cutting through the tension in the room.
"None, Bram…" Rowan lowered his head a bit, his eyes narrowed slightly. "None, from what the scouts could tell…It was like the village was disintegrated." Rowan finished, causing a light, cautious hum to escape from Bram's lips at his response.
The archer adjusts his position, brown eyes hardening. "That's their signature—leave nothing standing, cleanse to ashes as they call it." He sighed at the heartbreaking news, his gloved hands tightening around each other.
"Damn bastards." The wild-haired rabbit kin cursed as she leaned back against her chair, one foot against the edge of the table, with her arms crossed. "Those Order zealots have been getting beside themselves ever since they took out the Elven kingdom; now they're just targeting what little scraps we have just to survive." She gritted her teeth. "Damn humans and their foolish belief in supremacy." A low growl escaped her throat as the archer glanced over at her.
"Remember, you can't blame all humans, Verity." The archer spoke. "Haven's crest may have been a refugee village for any race to seek shelter there, but most of those people were humans. Any non-human that made their way there never stayed long." The archer closed his eyes briefly. "Haven Crest, just like most of the other villages and small towns, was already being taxed by the Order, but still operated to save whoever they could under their noses. Something must have happened." He stated, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to think of the possibilities.
Verity slightly glanced over at the archer before returning her gaze toward the table. "I'm not trying to blame all humans, Sedge; I'm just talking about the self-righteous demons in human skin that just wiped out another village of their kind, which also happened to be a village that was meeting point for any non-human, whether the Order was making their rounds or not. Now the real question is, are we next on their list?" Verity asked as Fawn's fingers drum against her anatomical sketches, her smile never wavering.
"Oh, I do hope so. It's been far too long since I've had proper test subjects for my medical research."
Warren's whiskers tremble at her tone. "Fawn, please. We need to focus on defense, not—"
"Defense?" She interrupts sweetly. "Warren, dear, the best defense is a thorough understanding of anatomy. Specifically, how to dismantle it.'
"This isn't a game, Fawn," Bram states calmly, keeping his arms crossed. "Calm your sadism, people are dying left and right, we need an actual plan." He continued, his deep voice cut through Fawn's disturbing enthusiasm.
Sedge nods grimly, his brown eyes fixed on the table. "Bram's right. If they obliterated Haven's crest, then we need to think about possibly evacuating Hollowbrook." Sedge suggested as Verity's foot drops from the table with a thud, her blue eyes narrowing at the statement as she looks over at Sedge.
"And where exactly do you propose we evacuate to? Every Safe haven is being systemically destroyed!" Verity exclaims.
Sedge's jaw tightens as he meets Verity's challenging stare, his gloved hands pressing flat against the table. "I don't have all the answers, Verity. But staying here and waiting for them to come slaughter us isn't exactly a brilliant strategy either." His voice remains steady despite the tension in the room. "There are still settlements to the far east, beyond the Order's current reach. We could make our way there and figure out another plan."
"And what happens when the Order burns those down?" Verity argued. "Are we going to run to another settlement? Get another beastkin race cleansed while we show our little tails as we run away?" Verity continued. "We're cottontails, dammit! We need to show them not to underestimate us just because of what we are!"
"And what exactly do you propose we do, Verity?" Bram asked suddenly, directing his attention to her. "March our farmers and children straight into their blessed steel?" His voice drops to a growl. "I've seen what Order paladins can do. One of them could cut through half this village before we even knew they were here.
Sedge's eyes lowered at the mention of one of the paladins. "That's Dikaios…Dikaios of the Red Blade, the knight in the Crimson cloak."
Warren's ears droop at the mention of the name, his whiskers trembling as he adjusts his glasses nervously." Dikaios…." He whispers, the name carrying weight in the small room. "I heard the stories about his power. One of the three paladins that make up the holy trinity under the Purifier's rule."
Rowan followed alongside Warren. "I've heard stories as well, probably nothing compared to what the knight in person," Rowan added.
Verity slams her fist on the table, making everyone jump. "See? This is exactly what I'm talking about! We're sitting here trembling at the mention of one man's name like scared kits!" Her blue eyes were blazing with fury. "Maybe if we stopped running and started fighting back, these bastards would think twice before they set foot in our village!"
Warren adjusts his glasses nervously. "Perhaps…Perhaps we could reach out to other settlements? Pool our resources?"
"Or we could send the Order a message they won't forget. I have some delightful ideas involving pressure points and nerve clusters…" Fawn's green eyes gleam dangerously.
Rowan's ears flatten against his head. "We're talking about Paladins, not mere bandits, Fawn. They have divine magic backing them. Every single soldier they house has it."
"Divine magic doesn't make their spines any less breakable." She purrs, sketching something disturbing on her parchment. "Besides, you act like we here don't have a little magic of our own. I'm sure we can be somewhat of a thorn in the Order's side."
Rowan sighed a bit before responding. "I would rather not stake the future of our village on whether we can hold the order back by ourselves or not." He stated. "I'm with Warren. I think we should reach out to other settlements. What about the Werebeast clans to the south? If the Order's pushing into their territory too…"
"You mean Fenris Reach?" Warren asks, his whiskers twitching nervously. "Those wolves have never been particularly…diplomatic."
Sedge leans back in his chair, considering the options carefully. "The wolves might be our best bet actually. They're predators and warriors by nature, and if the Order's expanding south, they'll be facing the same threat we are."
Bram's eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Faelan's no fool. She's been leading those wolves for years, and they've managed to stay independent this long." He uncrosses his arms, placing his scarred hands on the table. "The question is, would they even listen to a bunch of rabbits asking for help?"
Verity scoffs, her wild black hair shifting as she shakes her head.
"Great. Let's go ask a bunch of territorial predators for help. What could go wrong?" She spoke sarcastically as she crossed her arms. "They'll probably eat us before the Order gets the chance to do anything." She grumbles.
Bram turns his head towards Verity. "The wolves of Fenris Reach aren't our enemies." He states firmly. "Different from us, yes. But they've got just as much reason to hate the Order as we do."
Sedge adjusts his bow strap, brown eyes narrowing. "The problem is getting a message to them without the Order intercepting it. Their patrols have been increasing along all the southern routes."
Fawn's quill scratches against parchment as she sketches her detailed diagram, her green eyes gleaming with unsettling enthusiasm. "Oh, I could deliver a message," She says sweetly, not looking up from her disturbing artwork.
"I know several routes through the marshlands that even Order scouts avoid. Something about the…unpleasant discoveries they keep making there."
Warren's whiskers twitch nervously as he glances at Fawn's sketches. "Um…What kind of discoveries?" He asks hesitantly.
Fawn's smile widens, showing too many teeth. "You know, the educational kind. What happens to a human corpse when left out to rot in the murky swamps? How the plants mold and assimilate to one who is still…breathing." Her eyes gleamed psychotically. "Or…or…. what a chest looks like when you force ribs to rapidly heal over and over until they open up!" She shouts in ecstasy.
The heavy silence falls over the room as everyone stares at Fawn with varying degrees of horror and concern. Warren's face goes pale, his whiskers trembling as he grips the edge of the table. Bram's scarred hands clench into fists, while Sedge looks away in disgust. Verity raises one eyebrow in disgusted curiosity.
"You're completely unhinged, you know that?" She says flatly. "And that's coming from someone who hates the Order."
Fawn looks up from her sketches, her green eyes wide with mock innocence as she tilts her head at Verity. "Unhinged? I prefer 'thoroughly committed to my craft." She says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Besides, my methods have kept the Order patrols from venturing too deeply into the marshlands. They're quite…Superstitious about what lurks there now. So…That means I've successfully created some ghost stories among the Order." She giggles to herself.
Rowan clears his throat loudly, desperate to redirect the conversation back to the situation at hand. "Regardless of…Methods…We need to make a decision. The Order won't wait while we debate." He ponders a bit before looking back up at the group before him. "I think I should go. Faelan knows me, and maybe it would be more diplomatic to talk chief to future chief." Rowan explained.
"Warren's ears shoot up in alarm at Rowan's suggestion, his glasses nearly falling off his nose as he jerks forward. 'Absolutely Not!" He exclaims, his normally gentle voice rising with concern. "You're our future chief, Rowan. We can't risk losing you on a journey through Order-controlled territory!"
Meanwhile, Bram considers Rowan's proposal. "Rowan may be right about approaching this from a diplomatic angle. Faelan is a proud Werebeast, so she might be more receptive to another leader; anything less than that might be seen as an insult."
Verity looked over at Bram. "But wouldn't it be seen as an insult if he DID go? Kingdoms send messengers and envoys all the time when they want a message delivered, not their king or whoever is in charge." Verity battled.
Sedge sets down his bow, leaning forward with a thoughtful expression. "Both of you have valid points." He interjects, his brown eyes moving between Verity and Bram.
"But there's something else to consider here. The Order isn't just expanding territory-they're systemically destroying any alliance or cooperation between non-human settlements. If we send a messenger, it could be seen as maintaining that separation they want. But if Rowan goes himself…" He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "It sends a different message entirely. One of Unity."
Fawn's quill stops moving across her parchment, her unsettling smile fading for the first time as she considers the concept. "The wolves do respect strength and conviction," she muses, her usual playful sadism replaced by a more analytical persona. "Sending our future chief shows we're serious about forming a real alliance, not just seeking temporary shelter. Though…"
Her green eyes narrow as she taps her quill against the diagrams that she drew. "If Rowan goes, he'll need protection. The order's patrols are one thing, but the roads themselves have become more dangerous. Blight beasts have been appearing with increasing frequency, especially in the southern territories.
Bram's scarred hands clench at the mention of Blight Beasts, his grey eyes darkening as he recalled the times were he came across these monsters. "She's right. I lost three hunting parties to those creatures last month alone. They're not natural—they appear without warning, attack without reason, and leave nothing but corruption in their wake….They're not normal."
Rowan's white ears twitch with concern as he absorbs this information. The room falls into a tense silence, broken only by the soft scratch of Fawn's quill against her parchment.
"The timing's too convenient." He mutters to himself as he gently rubs his chin. "First, the Order eradicates Vel'Andria, then slowly but surely they start attacking settlements, Haven Crest falls, and now these unnatural beasts appear more frequently…Something bigger is happening…Something we don't know about."
Sedge nods grimly, his fingers drumming against his bow. "Which is exactly why we need to act now. If we wait too long, we might lose our chance to reach Fenris Reach at all." He turned his attention to Rowan. "But Fawns, right, you'll need protection. Strong fighters who can handle both Order patrols and Blight Beasts."
Verity's wild black hair shifts as she straightens in her chair. "Well, don't all volunteer at once," She says sarcastically. "I'll go. Better than sitting here waiting for the Order to come knocking. Besides, someone needs to keep your tail out of trouble, and I'm the best fighter we've got."
Sedge nods his head. "You'll also need range support. The southern roads are too exposed to travel without eyes watching the horizon. Besides," He adds with a grim smile. "My arrows might not stop a paladin, but they'll sure slow one down."
Fawn looks up a bit, her green eyes gazing at the group. "Well, if we're forming a proper expedition." She says, as her eyes finally land on Rowan. "You'll need a healer. Someone who knows how to…patch things up when they go wrong. And perhaps make things go wrong for anyone who tries to stop us." Her smile widens unnervingly. "Besides, I've been ever so curious about studying Blight Beast anatomy up close. Their bodies, their corruption…is something truly fascinating, and who knows what I could do with that knowledge."
Bram's eyes close as he considers the forming group. "A Fighter," He looks at Verity. "An Archer." He turns his head towards Sedge. "And a healer." He finally glances over at Fawn before returning his eyes to Rowan. "And you, a future chief, are more than capable of handling things on your own, so I'll sit this expedition out and stay and watch over the village," Bram suggested, crossing his arms.
Rowan couldn't help but nod at Bram. "Are you sure, Bram?" Rowan asks. "Guarding the village all by yourself?
"Someone needs to stay and keep things organized here." He says firmly. "Also, Warren will need help keeping the youngsters in line and everyone calm. And if anything does happen…" His grey eyes harden with determination. "Then that's where my special talents come in."
Rowan nodded his head as he stuck his fist out to the center of the table. "It's settled then." He spoke with conviction. "Tomorrow, we leave and head towards Fenris Reach."
One by one, the others join their fists with Rowan's, a resounding thump echoes, First Verity, followed by Sedge, Fawn, who followed suit along with Bram. Noticeably missing was Warren's hand, a testament to the concern weighing heavily on his mind.
"Just…" Warren's voice quavers slightly as he adjusts his glasses. "Promise me you'll all come back. The youngsters still need their teachers, and I'm too old to start training new ones."
Bram places a reassuring hand on Warren's shoulder, while the others exchange determined looks over their joined fists, causing Warren to slowly place his fist in the center as he looked up at Rowan, who wore a smirk on his face.
"Don't worry, we'll come back. You can bet it on." He said his brown eyes were now determined more than ever.