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Strolling through the chaos, a beast man looks about the tattered remains of the once peaceful village. The dense flesh of his cobra-like hood bends as his gleaming eyes scan the horrors around him, the men laying dead and dying, and the women and children kneeling in the dirt, their knees soaked in blood as they cry over them. Clawed hands reach out, grabbing a little boy and his young mother and pulling them away by their armpits.

The viper who wears only a thin, dark colored tunic, cannot help but smile. His six fangs, the two largest being on his upper jaw, glisten in the light of the fires that burn the village to the ground. Dark purple venom drips from drips from his two upper fangs as he smells the carnage and the ash with his four slit nostrils, two on either side of his short but blocky snout. He walks on digitigrade feet, his eight bestial toes capped with razor-sharp claws, as are all ten of his fingers.

With his mouth held open to keep his fangs at the ready, he can taste the death in the air. His long tail tapers from the base to the tip, swaying audibly through the air as he checks to see how many they've captured this time. Passing the edge of the village, he looks to the left to see a handful of his kin lying dead in the dirt, their hoods cut deeply by a human's blade. A third has a hole in his back, his tunic smoldering from the gunpowder. His gleeful expression swiftly fades.

"You!" A voice calls out from behind him.

The viper whirls around, facing the voice. It's a man, glad in bloodstained armor that would easily break all of his sharp claws should he try to use them. A long blade with a bend about two-thirds of the way up lay discarded in the dirt, and failing to reload his single-shot pistol, the warrior drops it into the dirt with a strange clicking sound. The viper stares at him, the breeze fluttering his long tunic, which is his only garment. They stare at each other for the longest time, sizing each other up.

With his brow thick and low, and his head subtly bowed, the viper's eyes are partially obscured in a most sinister gaze. With his mouth still hanging open enough to show all six of his large and deadly fangs, the top two still dripping his lethal venom, he is a frightening sight to behold. However, the armor-clad human stands defiantly before him, as still as a statue and unafraid.

"You bastards..." The warrior grumbles, breaking the silence.

The viper tilts his head slightly to one side.

"You savage beasts think you can come here, kill our men and enslave our women and children?!"

The viper's eyes widen a little and his head straightens.

"Do you think you are so strong!?!" The warrior's rage builds. "Do you think nothing will come of this!?!?!"

"Yes..." The viper hisses out a reply, his cheeks puffing as his lips curl at the corners forming a wicked smile. "But we enslave your men, too."

The warrior takes a single step back, startled to hear the beast man speaking his language. Had the three who lay dead at their feet not shouted when they died? So few beast folk can speak the human's tongue, and those who do are raised with it from birth; they never fully grasp its complexity, and are incapable of learning their native tongue of ancient Hitrosii. For this unsettlingly calm beast man to hear him and reply, he knows he cannot be a beast man at all!

"Sa-... Sarush?!" The warrior chokes out.

"Yes." The viper almost whispers a hissing reply.

"By Yeshu!"

The warrior is now well-aware of exactly whom he is dealing with. These are not mere beast folk; Sabaarii of the sand-kin come in several forms, with the hooded cobras being the only ones with venom. They are unique and are called "Yad'ovai," but they are no more intelligent than the rest of the beast folk across Morveria. No... These beasts are Sarush, a bastard line who steal humans to maintain their hybrid bloodline!

Half-breeds, called "Polotan," and those with more pronounced mixtures, either more human or more beast folk, called "Tretik," make up the ranks of this insidious and clever tribe which has emerged like a plague from the depths of the desert. Now they roam the cooler regions looking for more humans to forcibly breed, so that they can grow their numbers six-fold and wash away humanity once and for all!

"Now do you understand, human?" The viper's smile widens even more. "You cannot fight us. You will become us."

"We should've stopped you when we had the chance!"

"Heh-heh-heh..." The viper hisses his sinister laugh. "You didn't because you couldn't. We breed too quickly, and are too smart to fall for your usual tricks. We are not your typical beast men. This is our land. You cannot stop us."

"Well..." The warrior draws another sword with a satisfying sching. "We'll just see about that."

He flourishes the sword, spinning the blade forward as he begins to approach. Suddenly, a band of other vipers, their clothes bloodstained from the battle, emerge to fight him. They move to encircle him, one of them holding a man-sized net.

"Wait!" The viper commands the others, stretching out a clawed hand to them. "This one... He is mine."

With his minions anxiously watching, the viper and the armor-clad human warrior race toward each other, roaring at the top of their lungs.

"You don't stand a chance, snake!"

"Are you so sure, human?!"

They clash in a mass of flesh and metal. The warrior tries to impale the viper and end it quickly, but the bipedal cobra is too clever for that. He sees the way his arm pulls back and dodges his attack, using his tail to twirl himself around before slamming it into the warrior's back and sending him tumbling. The warrior manages to stay on his feet and spins just as the viper lunges for him. His sword slashes across the viper's chest, cutting his tunic and leaving a wound that seeps blood.

"Ack!" The viper recoils, checking the fresh gash on his chest. "Damn you! This was my favorite tunic!"

"Heh... Do you dare fight on, snake? I'll ruin it!" The warrior chirps and wears a cocky grin.

"You got lucky..." The viper narrows his eyes.

"Are you so sure?" The warrior flicks his wrist and casts off the viper's blood from his blade.

"You will lose, and I will drag you back to our village. Alive! ... They will make you drink the 'water of life' and you will help us make more Sarush!" The human-Sabaarii viper roars.

"Over my dead body!!!"

"If that's your wish!!!"

They race toward each other to resume the fight, slamming into each other and tumbling. They find their footing, twirl and spin, slashing and clawing at each other in a most violent dance. Never getting quite close enough for a finishing blow, they quickly becoming winded. Even with his claws, venom, and that long, thick and powerful tail, the viper struggles to win against the human. His opponent, however, soon finds himself as the last man standing.

Sweat beads on his brow as he huffs and puffs, weighed down by the steel armor. He turns his head as they take a moment and finds himself utterly surrounded by the crowd of vipers who number at least twenty strong. They watch the fight merely for their amusement, some of them even taking bets. This is no longer about victory. That time has passed. This is about revenge, and making a statement before he draws his final breath.

The Sarush have become a plague upon these lands, kidnapping humans to continue their perverse bloodline. It is true what they viper said; they breed too quickly, having litters between three and six at a time, but if he can just kill two or three more before he dies... Maybe, just maybe, he'll balance the scales.

"Are you ready?"