FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Characters:

Greggory Bast (Male, Sphinx cat (Noble), 22) Allomancer: Mistborn

Cain (Male, Pitbull (Skaa/Noble), 25) Allomancer: Mistborn

Fides (Male, Raccoon (Skaa), 30)

Sweet Alyssum “Aly, Sweetie” (Female, Skunk (Skaa/Noble), 24) Allomancer: Coinshot

Whitley (Nonbinary, Hyena (Skaa/Noble), 23) Allomancer: Tineye

Daina St Hubert (Female, Dalmatian (Skaa/Noble), 17)

Bors (Male, Wolf (Skaa/Noble), 20) Allomancer: Seeker

Gris Middendorff (Male, Grizzly Bear (Noble), 55) Allomancer: Mistborn

Notes:

Hm. I originally said and thought this would end at 8 chapters, but as I close out chapter 8, I guess it’ll be at least two more. So, uh, we’ll assume that its ten chapters for the ten known Allomantic metals throughout most of the Final Empire’s history. Yeah… definitely intentional.

That DOES, I suppose, mean that one of them can be for gold. … Maybe. If I can think of something interesting to do with it. I suppose with how Greggory lives and acts as a character, the particulars of how gold Allomancy works could be interesting to try and explore, even if only briefly. (Lol I guess for anyone reading this who ISN’T a Mistborn fan and/or willing to check out the wiki, this maybe doesn’t make much sense as a note)

On a more immediate note, I’m not… the HAPPIEST with this chapter. I think it works fine, but I’m a little worried that the whole action sequence is messier than I’d like. Or that it might be too unclear why they’re doing what they’re doing, what’s happening, where the half-dozen characters all are (Ugh, why do I keep doing that to myself… even in nsfw scenes, I really need to remind myself that more than a handful of characters can just get untenable)

Story Text:

The ballroom of Keep Lobos was in chaotic disarray.

On the balcony above, a handful of guards had entered, rushing into position. None of those present had bows, so all they could do was surround and wait, weapons at the ready in case one of those below attempted to get to higher ground by Allomancy.

Below was the real show, so to speak.

Divided in half between arrays of cloth-covered round tables, arranged for dining and socializing, and a large open space with a firmer wood floor for dancing. In the dancing area stood the Keep's Mistborn guard, a thick-figured and burly grizzly man in a Mistcloak, visibly blooded and injured but not minding one bit; with pewter, of course, his body was hardened and amplified, ignoring his bleeding injuries with ease as he prowled, growling, launching coins to try and hit his opponents.

Hidden behind two tipped over tables as cover was the Keep's intruders. The bulk of them were a team of skaa Allomancer thieves, who'd broken in to steal from the Lobos' basement vaults. And, not a member of the team but a... tentative, situational ally, was Greggory, the hairless cat also wearing a Mistcloak, his hidden eyes flicking up to the guards gathering on the upper balcony warily, tin sharpening his vision despite the low lightning in the large room. Other than a few torches kept lit, the only light into the large room was limelights from outdoors, illuminating the ornate stained glass of religious depictions, arranged at the dancing end of the room's far wall, and the high walls above the balcony. It cast colorful haze into the massive open room, an almost disorienting blend.

Greggory huffed, his ears twitching through the slits in his hood at the sound of coins thud-thud-thudding into the table he leaned against. ``Fuck,'' he grunted, snapping his arm away as one coin smashed through the wood, zipping past him; speed reduced, luckily, but still dangerous.

``I REALLY hope you actually have a plan...'' one of the thieves, the wolf, grumbled. From Greggory's bronze-burning, he could sense pulses from the lupine man, the distinct thudding rhythm of bronze as well; a Seeker.

The others were also, a fair amount, Allomancers. A skunk Coinshot, burning her steel expertly to reduce and deflect the grizzly Mistborn's attacks. A hyena Tineye, their tin flared and their head on a swivel, keeping an eye on all the guards nearby. Two more were non-Allomancers, a scrawny dalmatian girl with her head low, trembling fearfully slightly as she clung to a satchel of lockpicking tools, and a heavy-bodied raccoon with a wooden dueling cane in paw. Lastly, of course, was a sleeveless-shirted pitbull, black fur marred with various scars.

From him, Greggory felt a symphony of pulses, similar to the Mistborn grizzly trying to land a hit on them, similar to what one would feel from Greggory himself were his copper not active. A fellow Mistborn.

It was this pitbull, Cain, who turned his head to his allies, assuring softly, ``We can trust him.''

Greggory met the burlier male's brown eyes, heart briefly fluttering at the warm, trusting gaze the dog gave him. The feline nodded, gulped, and forced down his anxiety.

Brass and zinc burned in his stomach, fueling a few light nudges on... well, everyone in the room that wasn't him. To the members of Cain's thieving gang, he didn't Riot trust; he surged their confidence, their security, their yearning for success. At the same time, he Soothed their fear and worries, subtly nudging their emotions to strengthen them, if only a little. To their enemies, he did the opposite; urging fright and cowardice and insecurity in the guards, just barely within his sphere of influence, but sure to feel it all the same as he flared the Emotional Allomantic metals. Even the Mistborn grizzly nearby; he, it seemed, was not in the habit of burning copper, leaving him vulnerable to a surging of frustration, and yet patience, furious and ready to destroy, but willing to wait for them to show themselves. For... a few moments, at least.

... I hope you do trust me,'' Greggory said softly, looking at each of the thieves, flaring their confidence but keeping his mental touch away from anything trust-related. He wanted that... genuinely.Do as I signal, without hesitation... please.''

They each nodded. Even the cowering dalmatian, who practically hid in Cain's shadow.

``Alright... Cain, you and the lockpick are first...''

After a quick instruction of what to do, largely done by scratching a diagram into the table behind him to avoid being overheard by the grizzly's tin-sharp ears, the thieves and Greggory moved.

Flaring pewter, Cain lunged out, wielding not his obsidian-edged cudgel but a pair of broken table legs as weapons. Scurrying just behind him, holding another leg in her paws, was the dalmatian thief; she'd introduced herself wide-eyed as Daina. The two dogs leapt into the open, immediately catching the grizzly's attention. He shifted, reaching a paw into his coin bag at his side for ammunition to Steelpush their way; instead, the man was caught off guard as, with a yell, Cain whipped one of his table legs end-over-end, straight at him.

The grizzly grunted, flaring his own pewter and raising an arm to block. The wood snapped into his forearm with a crack; wood AND bone, it seemed, as the pewter-fueled throw overwhelmed his defenses. The spin sent the wood projectile spinning over his head, deflected.

A second came a moment later, Cain and Daina continuing their charge towards the edge of the table arrangement. Mid-throw, Daina was already handing Cain the third leg.

Again, the grizzly shifted, this time using his pewter-amplified dexterity to dodge one leg, but just barely not moving fast enough to avoid the third. His heavy lumbering figure worked against him as he moved one step forward to dodge, only to catch the last thrown, spinning table leg at his gut, a surprisingly sharp wheezing exhale leaving him as he stumbled back at the attack, flaring his pewter all the hotter.

That's right, Greggory thought, peaking out from behind the table at the grizzly Mistborn. Flare your pewter, burn it hot, you can handle these foolish thieves... The cat flared brass and zinc, adjusting the other Mistborn's emotions to nudge him in just the right direction. ``Now,'' he hissed, gesturing to the next pair.

This time it was the wolf Seeker, Bors, and the hyena Tineye, Whitley, who rushed out from the table on the opposite side that Cain and Daina had moved from.

The Seeker's eyes narrowed as he ran between tables, already spinning the leather sling he'd had on hand, which whistled sharply. Sharp enough that, when the grizzly heard its whining `song', his head perked, and he turned towards it.

``Rah!'' Bors cried out on reflex, snapping his weapon forward. At the same instant, Whitley's long muzzle spread into a wolfish grin as they raised their own tools.

At the instant Whitley snapped their sound sticks together over their head, dulling their tin in time with Greggory and Cain to avoid being stunned, however briefly, by the absurdly sharp crack they emitted, Bors's sling-thrown projectile hit. And blasted apart, as the glass globe of powder shattered on the burly grizzly's chest, exploding all around him in a crimson haze of sparkling powder.

GRAAAH! FUCK!'' the grizzly cried out, stumbling a step back. His tin flared as it was, the sudden onslaught of sound had snapped him into lowering his guard, failing to dull it in time for the glass full of stinging, spicy haze. It burned in his nostrils, his throat, his eyes, as his ears rang sharply with the specialized anti-tin weapon.FUCK! FUCK!'' he roared, heaving as tears ran down his face, stumbling and disoriented.

Bors and Whitley continued their sprint to the edge, opposite Cain and Daina; the four lunged behind columns holding up the balconies above. An instant later, Bors, his bronze flared for all the sensory ability he could bring to bear, near-howled, ``NOW!''

At that instant, the raccoon and skunk, Fides and Sweet Alyssum respectively, fulfilled their role in Greggory's plan. The Mistborn cat remained hunched low, ready for his moment, surging emotions wildly at their opponents, as the skunk Coinshot braced herself against Fides, who himself planted his feet on the floor and leaned hard against her back.

With a cry, Sweet Alyssum burned her steel as hot as she could, and PUSHED with all her might.

The tables exploded into motion, their metal fittings making them vulnerable to the metal-moving abilities of a Coinshot and Lurcher. Shoving in all directions, for the most part, launching the covered furniture scattering, rolling, bouncing clumsily. The sudden eruption of movement away from the three of them made some of the guards stumble and flee, or duck and hide, their fear and cowardice and survival instincts Rioted immensely.

At the same time, she locked onto the enemy Mistborn's own metals. His vials of refueling metal flakes and oil on his belt, his bag of coins, even the few coins that had struck and imbedded into his shoulder, bloodied and sore.

Greggory knew, from their planning, what all had just happened. Bors, a more detail-aware Seeker then Greggory was even if he lacked the cat's... particular abilities, had informed him of a detail on the grizzly's metals. Specifically, his pewter. The metal burned quickest of all the eight main Allomantic metals, and for the enemy Mistborn, he'd been flaring it harder and harder since his injuries, trying to dull their pain and limitations on his body, eager to kill the thieves and Mistborn assassin.

As such, it was very, very low, smoldering on the edges.

From all his flaring pewter, the bear Mistborn just ran out, the moment after Bors called. That had been the signal; with no pewter fortifying him, he sagged, pain hitting him at once. Then, the tables rumbled in every direction, bouncing off the columns at the edges and tipping over each other, a chaotic rumble of movement, sound, danger.

And shoving him, sending him thrown backwards by the metal in his shoulder and on his belt. He roared in pain again, blood spilling down his face from claw wounds along one side, and renewing from his torn shoulder, the coins digging deeper into his now-aflame muscles and bone.

He was blinded, deafened, overwhelmed by sensory pains that he could no longer ignore with pewter's edge. Disoriented, surrounded by cacophony of tables tumbling and bouncing and spinning and rolling, his body weakened and his metals running low. He was vulnerable, Emotional Allomancy rushing at him with a surging, hot fear for his life, replacing all bravado and fury and eagerness for blood.

Now was the moment to strike.

The cat dropped a coin, held tight against the skunk's surrounding Push. With his own steel, he leapt high.

Greggory could see the man's eyes snap wide when he launched himself up and over the hazardous tables all around. Mistcloak fluttering as, for the second time, he launched through the air of the ballroom, propelled on invisible blue threads of light.

Greggory's eyes widened as he dropped through the air, angling himself feet-first and flaring his pewter. A flicker of movement on from his opponent as he fell, almost in slow motion.

Damn! The grizzly was quicker than he'd hoped; the man was already holding a glass vial of metal flakes, teeth bared in a bloodied, ferocious glower.

The lithe, furless feline fell short, landing just at the edge of the knocked over tables, almost sixteen meters away from where the bear had been stumbled and Pushed. Greggory didn't even have to look directly for his pewter-enhanced feet, ever deft and sturdy, to catch at the surface of a tipped-over table, table cloth slipping under his bare paws; he slid down it, hitting the floor running in a sprint.

The enemy had gulped down his oil and metal flakes, his pewter flaring back to life in its thrumming pulse to his bronze senses. Greggory was too far away to stop him, burning his own pewter, rushing in a sprint to close the last few feet. With the momentum he'd built, there was no way to stop in time to fall back.

A broad grin, confident and eager to deal death, spread on the grizzly's face. His burly musculature tensed, pewter burning hot and pulsing as he prepared to attack.

Greggory smirked. He continued to Riot the other Mistborn, amplifying his confidence.

Yes, yes, Greggory intoned, I'm so helpless and foolish! All that effort to run you out of pewter, for naught... What a shame that this waifish little Mistborn cat would make such a foolish mistake, stumbling right into your grasp...

The grizzly swung an arm back, pewter-hardened claws bared and ready to swipe at the feline. With his strength and weight advantage, the man would rend that slender hairless cat to pieces. That ferocious grin grew wider, hungrier for blood, eager to kill what he saw as the thieves' last ace in the hole.

Greggory ignited one more metal.

As Atium flared in his belly, purple light bloomed. All around, Greggory could not only see, but FEEL the movements of everyone in the room, feel the guards cowering or fleeing and doing nothing to help their Mistborn ally, the others of the thieving group rushing around the dance area for the doors at the end of the room. Not consciously, but enough to be aware none of them would move to the ursine man's aid or support.

And, of course, the grizzly's own Atium shadow, swiftly raking his claws forward in a wide, lunging sweep.

Even not seeing his own shadow, Greggory could sense it; those claws would, SHOULD, end his life. Tear out his throat as the grizzly flared his metals, roaring in triumph; it would nearly tear the smaller man's head from his shoulders as ursine claws gored his flesh.

Instead, Greggory, a smirk on his lips, ducked with a supernatural ease beyond even that provided by his pewter, mistcloak tassels flaring around him as he tipped low, arms tucked under the flurry of cloth strips. His foot struck the ground, just past the grizzly's stance, as he missed completely, eyes widening; a Riot of shock struck him, stunning him for just an instant as his sure-fire killing blow utterly missed, barely grazing the feline's hood.

The Atium, barely a trace, ran out in an instant. But it was already too late.

Greggory tightened his grip, and swung Cain's obsidian-edged cudgel, the sturdy weapon held in both dexterous, strengthened hands. The heavy tool SLAMMED into the bear, catching him right in the chest, just above his ample belly. With the inertia of his rushing dash and the might of pewter flaring in his body, the attacking feline could FEEL ribs crack under the attack, shattering inwards as the cudgel crushed and cut deep into the grizzly's torso.

The force of the hit actually snapped the cudgel, the hilt breaking free in Greggory's paws as he skidded forward, stopping in a crouch a few feet behind the grizzly.

The other Mistborn wheezed, eyes wide and bloodshot. No amount of pewter could save him; his lungs collapsed as shards of ribcage tore through them, and a sharp cough had him spit up blood. He wobbled. Greggory glanced back, dropping the broken hilt of Cain's cudgel as the grizzly shifted as if to step, then...

Fell. Heavy, and already dead, metals extinguished.

``GO! RUN!'' Greggory cried, standing and rushing towards the doors at the end of the room.

Daina had just finished picking the lock, secured to keep the intruders from escaping, Bors and Whitley already pushing it open to let a curling white mist pour in around them. The cat rushed to join the group, looking to the side to see a hobbling Sweet Alyssum supported by Fides hurrying to join them around the side. He bit back a wince; his plan, it seemed, had caused her some injury.

Instead, he waved them on and called again, ``GO!''

Cain rushed outside, Daina scurrying behind him. A pewter-enhanced sprint had Greggory at the door a moment later, pausing to turn and wait for the two larger members of the team to escape before he left. They did so, Fides nodding at him, Greggory meeting the nod with his own.

As he shifted to leave, his eyes fell on the dead Mistborn on the dance floor, a pool of his crimson blood spreading out around him.

Two Mistborn, and several Mistings, on top of all the mundane guards, all in one night...

He should have felt proud, he supposed. Instead, he just felt exhausted, turning and slipping out into the mists. The gang of thieves were already ahead of him, exiting the Keep's gates to mount up on a horse-drawn carriage waiting for them. An escape vehicle, then. Each had a sack, secured with rope like a backpack, slung over their backs, the haul from their thievery of the Keep Lobos vaults.

Greggory exited the gates, looking over his shoulder back at the Keep, illuminated by limelights outside. No guards stopped them, assumedly inside or around the front. Or making their way around the wall's edges. Either way, no time to delay.

The cat just barely met Cain's gaze, the pitbull helping push the injured Sweet Alyssum up into the carriage compartment. Greggory winced, seeing her sorry state; the force of that Steelpush had, of course, been dealt back on her, and she lacked the pewter to fortify herself against it. The skunk woman would be sore for a while, but... hopefully, recover quickly. For the time being, however, the thieving team was without their Coinshot.

Cain met his gaze; his own tin-sharpened vision would see through the thick mist surrounding them as easily as the feline could. ``Thank you, Greggory,'' he exhaled with a smile, tiling his head briefly to his allies mounting up on the escape carriage. The horses reined to it snorted and paced nervously, agitated by the sound from the Keep looming nearby.

The cat found himself smiling back, dropping a coin at his own feet. Get to safety, oh master thief,'' he teased, winking.And don't be late for our meeting.''

He flared steel and Pushed, launching himself into the misty air. The cold white night whipped around his body as he fled, bouncing off a second coin to propel himself onto a nearby building. Landing on the sloped roof, he looked back just in time to see the carriage lurching forward, horses whinnying as they pulled the gang of thieves away from the Keep. A moment later, the cat watched as guards, running in their armor and torches in hand, came out just too late, coming to a halt and calling to each other, unable to see which direction the thieves had fled in the thick, dark misty night.

Greggory smirked. With luck, the thieves would disappear into the city safely. Flaring his copper and steel, launching from the roof off another coin-anchored Steelpush, Greggory moved to do the same.

The mist engulfed him completely, vanishing from sight.