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RETURN OF THE LABYRINTH: SIGNS AND PORTENT

Early morning sunlight began lighting up the eight by sixteen private quarters of Justin, as he gave his shirt one last tuck, before closing up his trousers and securing the belt in place. He then paused and inhaled deeply of the smells awakening from outside his open window. The man just stood there for a while and closed his eyes, while thinking forward to when he would be outside the citadel walls and in the midst of the Wilderness again. Justin then exhaled and opened his eyes, before stepping forward to open the quarter's door. Mike was already dressed and sitting at the table, while staring outside through the open large double window. He seemed to be very focused on something and didn't even acknowledge the guardsman's exit from his private quarters.

“Something interesting happening out there?" Justin asked, before sitting down next to him.

“Not so much outside, but inside." Mike replied and pointed directly ahead.

Justin was quickly reminded of the reality that the four Domiciles of the citadel mirrored each other in layout and structure, when looking at the open window in sight. It was at the same level as their window and facing them from the opposite structure at the other end of the West defense wall. At first he had to squint his eyes to better see what was beyond the window, then got a clearer picture when the two people in the room moved closer to it in an odd animated manner. It's like they were stumbling and turning around. His eyes then spotted the distinct movement made by a woman's loose long hair. Her and the companion young man were obviously naked and wrestling with each other playfully. At least their top half was naked, as both guardsmen keen eyes got a glimpse of bouncing breasts and nipples. They both chuckled and glanced at each other, before looking back to watch the spectacle continue. A knock was then heard at the door, followed by a quieter knock at another one.

“We have breakfast upstairs for anyone interested." Came the familiar voice of Trent.

They quickly heard Bruce's voice echo the message at the other door.

“Be right there." Both heard Matt announce from the room next door.

“Give us a moment. Be there shortly." Mike called back over his shoulder.

The playful couple soon disappeared from the window and was replaced with the sight of a naked older man casually reaching up to close the window, then disappear from sight. Justin and Mike looked at each other and shrugged, then snickered. Another knock was heard at the door.

“Best get upstairs and eat your share, before someone else does." Cid then announced himself.

“On our way Cid." Justin assures him.

Knowing exactly the older guardsman was likely waiting outside the entry door and would be bugging them again shortly, they both got up and walked over to it. The moment they opened it, Cid was standing right there and dressed in his uniform. Matt was on the other side of the sacred crystal and standing near the stairwell, motioning with his hand to follow. No one said anything as Mike closed the door, then followed the other two towards the guardsman.

“You two sleep well enough?" He asked Justin and Mike.

“Yup."

“Definitely."

“Good. A lot of errands need to be run today and you two get the first shift." Matt informed.

“Do everything like we discussed and planned yesterday. Make it look like you belong with them. Don't need anyone looking at you as anything else other than a civilian." Cid added.

“Sure thing."

“Got it."

Matt and Cid then nodded to each other before leading the other two upstairs to the research room. They walked into a brighter lit room, with the nearby large window opened and the smell of breakfast hovering in the air. The nearby map table had been cleared off and was covered with a large black blanket, with a variety of just about every breakfast food one could want sitting on top, in baskets and on plates. Half of the eight chairs were already filled at one end with robed men.

“Morning Matt. Grab a seat." Bruce announced, while shuffling a few items around.

“I don't think you will find a single thing missing." Trent added, while filling a mug.

The guardsmen walked on up to the table and took their seat. Matt decided to sit at the opposite end, facing the original project leader Tony. Cid sat opposite of Justin and Mike. Trent soon sat down next to him, followed by Bruce. Luke was next down, with Stan sitting adjacent to Tony. Jacob was sitting opposite of Stan, with Mason next to him. This left Lance to sit between him and Justin. Everyone immediately began passing around plates and baskets, until their own plates were filled. To keep things practical, Matt and Cid had their gloves off.

“How did the night watch go?" He asked while cutting up a sausage link.

“Nothing out of the ordinary for us." Trent answered.

“We did get to spot guardsmen harass a sneaky couple outside the West wall." Bruce added.

Everyone chuckled.

“A otherwise typical citadel night." Cid observed.

“There is something that I think the research group needs to be informed about, concerning any trips made beyond the building." Matt started after taking a drink. “The Council insists on covert escort during the errands. Justin and Mike will be at your full disposal, while blending in with everyone wearing civilian clothes. I personally am a little annoyed by this, but didn't want to say anything that would motivate the Council to enforce any further restrictions."

“I don't see the point of having them wear civilian clothes, when we will be in robes and easily spotted within a crowd anyway." Lance observed.

'Matt and I discussed this whole process earlier and decided that for the duration of the research project, you will be allowed to wear civilian clothes as well outside the Domicile. It makes complete strategic sense, when you think about it." Cid returned.

“Was this also run by the council, or is this just more of your own prerogative?" Stan asked.

“My prerogative." Matt answered. “The council expects real results from this research project and this is one way I see us getting them."

“This will actually work well for my planned trip today." Lance observes. “The change in clothes will encourage the citizens to be more willing to discuss the things they know."

“Then everyone is comfortable with this change in clothing arrangement?' Matt asks everyone.

There was initially some hushed chatter among the magistrates and acolytes, but it soon stopped and all of them nodded in agreement.

“We like to make one practical suggestion for this arrangement." Tony offers.

“I'm listening." Matt invites.

“Since the cooler weather is now here and having layered clothing is sensible with the occasional cold rain, Perhaps we can keep the clothes on under the robes."

It was the guardsmen turn to chatter among themselves now and were brief about it.

“We can work with that and make arrangements for a secure transition point." Cid offered.

“Splendid. Now let's finish this breakfast and get our day started." Tony added.

The rest of the eating was conducted rather quietly, with the occasional exchange between two or three men. Shortly afterwards, Matt and Cid excused themselves to go back downstairs to their sentry posts at the lifts and stairwell. The other four guardsmen continued eating and were discreetly talking about what Justin and Mike seen earlier. Stan and Tony began cleaning up and clearing the table, to return it back to proper research condition, while Lance and Mason excused themselves to go do some packing for the magistrate. Luke and Jacob left to retrieve everything removed from the table. Bruce and Trent soon excused themselves, before departing for some sleep of their own downstairs. Justin and Mike busied themselves by helping with setting the map table back up, then began discussing the daily plan with each magistrate. Stan had no plan to leave yet. Lance had his book to return and then browse for other useful ones. Tony offered to carry the book with his stuff and simply have them travel together, making the escort task easier on Justin and Mike. Lance agreed.

“You two ready yet?" Justin asked Lance and Tony.

“Pretty sure I have everything." Lance assures after closing his back pack.

“I'll get my clothes on underneath my robe and meet you three at the lift." Tony announces and leaves the room.

Lance went into his private quarters to make the same change himself, while Justin and Mike took his pack over to the loft entry and waited. They didn't have that long to wait and soon saw the two magistrates emerge from the rooms, with visibly slight more bulk under the robes. Stan and the three acolytes were now gathered around the map table and discussing how to begin making the new temporary map itself for the upcoming expedition. All of them looked up and waved, as the other four men departed from the loft through the entry doors.

“Matt is good at anticipating changes and came up with a clever way to keep our movement discreet within the citadel common areas." Justin comments, while they descended the stairwell.

There was already a lift waiting for them and the group assumed Matt had it brought up for them. They simply exchanged nods with him and walked into the lift. Mike attached the appropriate weight reference tag and sent it zipping down to the ground level operator. Matt stepped up to the outer cage panel.

“Be careful out there and remember to not draw attention to your research Lance. I don't think I have to remind you about the rather controversial relationship between the legend and recent rumors floating around here." Matt advised, just before the lift lurched a little and began descending.

“I'll make sure he is careful." Tony assures Matt, just before their heads disappear out of sight.

The descent down was uneventful and proceeded with no interruptions. They were early enough to get ahead of everyone else that was just now waking up in the Domicile. After a few moments the noses and ears on the four men informed them they were finally approaching the ground floor. There was also the visual cue of seeing the second to bottom level being completely walled off from the lift itself. They could smell the distinct spicy signature scent of the horses that powered the lift mechanics and hear the morning hustle and bustle of the citizens going about their own daily errands. The lift then lurched to a stop and left the passengers with an additional cage panel on the side where normally is a stone wall on the upper levels. Immediately visible through it was a big horizontal drum, with a large vertical spoke keeping it anchored in place. An additional horizontal spoke was attached to it and was positioned comfortably at chest height for horses. Tethered to the spoke was a single harnessed black Shire stallion, accompanied by a handler wearing a gray robe. The handler had dark brown hair and a full beard. He also looked about as big and solidly built as the horse next to him. He immediately raised a waving hand and greeted the guardsmen. The stallion's head easily cleared the ceiling overhead, that looked to be a couple feet higher than the ones on the upper floors.

“Justin. Mike. How goes the new post assignment?" He asked.

“We will let you know later today." Justin replied.

“All we have done is sleep so far." Mike added.

The area beyond the handler was open to the outside, with only white columns and a nearby privacy wall being visible behind him and the horse. Everyone stepped out of the lift into a ground floor level that had no windows, but was sufficiently lit predominantly by the hanging crystal near the stairwell and the bigger sacred crystal mounted in the expected place in between four columns. Both pairs of black double doors were exactly where they should be, along with sight of a brass signal bell mounted on the column by the lift cage entrance. All the surfaces on this level, except the floor and doors, were painted white to help with the illumination. Where there was normally three doors on the upper levels, there was only the one entry in the middle and it was an open archway wide enough for a horse and his handler to comfortably walk together through it. The indirect morning sunlight poured through the open entrance and bathed the group in welcome warmth, as they stepped through into the open air mechanical lift room. That distinct spicy smell was very strong, within close proximity of the horse that just powered them down the lift shaft. Nearby was a second gray haired horse handler.

“Morning Justin and Mike. Something I can help you gentlemen with?" He asked.

“Yes, there is Don." Justin started. “I'm confident you and Max already talked with Matt about our new assignment and the request for you two to occasionally lend some extended help with keeping it quiet?"

Don simply nodded and folded his arms.

“We want to borrow one of your storage lockers to stow stuff throughout the project and trust you make sure nobody bothers it." Mike finished.

“Sure." Don looked over to Max and exchanged a nod, before looking back. “We can spare one or two of them. Anything delicate, that may require special attention?"

“For the moment, we just need a place to stow our robes." Tony added.

“Depending on how long you will be gone, keeping those things warm down here could be a problem. Smart of Mike to ask about the lockers. Hey Max, keep an eye on my horse, while I escort these gentlemen upstairs." Don calls over to the handler and gets a second nod in response.

Everyone then followed the tall solid man over to the stairwell and up to the next floor, where the horse handlers for all three shifts lived. Once they reached the top of the stairs, one could see the walls erected around the lift were white on this side, along with most every surface on this floor as well. This made the black metal frame of the one visible large window stand out even more. Just like the ground floor below, there was only one entry point to their destination visible and it was in the form of gray double doors. Don walked right up and gave one of the doors two firm knocks.

“Get decent or close the doors whelps. We have guests." He announced firmly.

Everyone's ears was immediately greeted with the sound of scampering heavy feet and two more sets of double doors closing inside the room. Don paused, then opened the door he knocked on and stood aside as the other four walked past him. The interior of this room had the same color treatment as outside. The one wall was dominated with various size shelves, with books and items that were related to horses in some way or another. The other wall had a row of six wide double door wooden lockers, that were a little taller than Don himself. Beyond these two walls was familiar pairs of open slender windows, adjacent to the pair of double doors that was just closed earlier. The handler closed the open entry door, then walked up to the locker with his name plaque above it and opened both doors, before pointing at the empty top heavy wood shelf.

“That should be big enough for a few robes and anything else you need us to secure during the duration of the project." He comments and chuckles.

The space was actually big enough for a man to fit within it on his side, after folding the legs up. Below the shelf on a heavy hook was assorted thick leather bands, that interconnected to form the same sort of harness that was on the horses downstairs.

Lance and Tony walked up to the locker and looked at each other, before Tony handed over the back pack and slid his robe off first. He folded and put it on the shelf, before taking the pack back and waited on Tony. The werewolf then closed the locker himself.

“Thank you. We really appreciate this Don." He commented.

“Glad to be of service magistrate." the handler replied.

All five then left the room and went back down to the ground floor. Don parted from the group and returned to his Shire stallion, as the other four walked to one of the black entry doors. Both handlers watched them leave and remained quiet until the doors closed.

“They leave anything else behind... besides their robes?" Max asked while brushing his horse.

“Just the robes." The handler replied, then pulled up his sleeves and grabbed a nearby brush.

“Any idea why a magistrate would even be doing something like that?"

“Nope. It would be a good question to ask a councilman though."

“No thanks. It takes work just to get them to recognize us handlers at all."

“Bet they would notice us more if they used the mechanical lifts."

“Or even share a seat with us on transport carts." Both chuckled at the absurdity of that thought.

Both then heard a pair of boots and multiple clopping hooves approaching.

“Time for shift change and no sign of…" Don's words got interrupted by a pair of boots moving rapidly down the steps of the stairwell towards the mechanical lift room.

Both handlers looked through the dual lift cage panels and saw two thin bearded young men in gray robes hit the ground with a momentum stopping thud of their boots. Both were blonde and twins.

“Never mind." Don finishes himself.

The two younger handlers walk in through the entry and part to take up their positions near the rotating drums. The fifth handler appears from beyond the exterior wall near Max and stops. He is also older and gray haired. Don and Max step away and stand next to each other at the entry, supervising the recently trained handlers do their shift change procedure of swapping out the horses. The one named John, that was taking over Don's post, got his horse unhitched first and walked the freshly brushed horse over to the other handler. The young handler reached over to the new horse's leading rein and released his grip on the other one, just as the handler also switched reins. He then led the new horse back to his post and went about the process of hooking the stallion up to the drum. The other one named Chester now proceeded to repeat the same handover process. The fifth handler then finally spoke up.

“Looks like they got it." He comments.

“Shift change is the easy part. I'll rest judgment until after they get through a busy time and manage to keep the work environment manageable Seth." Don corrects.

“Yeah. Them acolytes tend to get pretty chatty and too loud on the lifts. Horses don't like noise they can't see." Seth agrees.

All three nod and watch the new handlers finish the shift change procedure. Don and Max then walk over to their respective posts and look everything over closely.

“You whelps know what to do, when one of the stallions decides to display his pride and one of them acolyte's happen to target it with their usual adolescent immaturity?" Seth asks both young ones.

“I would chide them and comment they wish they had one that big." John replies.

“Me. I would dare them to come over and milk it or shut up." Chester quips.

“Okay. Those responses will need work, but you whelps get the idea. We look out for these beautiful beasts and they will look out for us." Seth insures. “Horse handlers have a long standing tradition going back centuries. We have come to live much the same way the horses live socially. We live and work together like a herd. Horses live and work together like a herd. All of us live and work together like one complete herd. Understand?"

“Yes, Herd Master." The other four replied in unison.

As if the four present horses also somehow understood, they bobbed their heads in unison.

'Very good. I now leave you to your duties." Seth verbally directed towards the whelps, before turning the two horses in his care around and began walking back out of the open air room. “Sleep well herd mates." He called behind him towards the intended two men, before disappearing beyond the exterior wall.

All four men then heard the zipping sound of a weight reference tag coming down to their level and stopped on Don's side. Max walked over next to Don and watched the whelp with him. John made sure he read the numbers right, then walked over to a nearby heavy steal rack and checked the previous tag hanging there. He paused to do a quick mental calculation and then removed two heavy C shaped plates the size of a spread out hand, before moving over to one of the heavy lift chains and attaching both counter weights with a heavy duty metal pin and clip each. He then walks over to the drum and grabs a visible circular handle, before pulling the attached arm thick black metal rod out a little. The stallion's muscles tense in anticipation of the load shift. John then walks over to the opposite side and gives the stallion reassuring pats, as he pulls the companion rod out. Everything briefly moves slightly and then stops as the horse's own massive power takes over. He then reaches over the drum towards a hanging rope and tugs on it, ringing the bell outside by the nearby mechanical lift.

“Okay boy. Let's go." He quietly tells the stallion, before clicking his tongue twice.

The massive powerful Shire stallion starts walking and traces an old familiar circle, as the horizontal drum begins turning and rotating the hidden attached horizontal steel shaft under the floor. All four heavy chains attached to the lift then move at the same time, ascending and descending from the same hidden place under the floor. The nearby lift begins moving up to it's floor destination with very little resistance, as John pays attention to the floor and the symmetrically placed radial lines around the drum, keeping track of where to stop the horse for the appropriate floor requested. He briefly darted his eyes in Chester's direction and got an approving nod. He managed to catch sight of same response from Don and Max, whom then turned around and exited out the indoor entry archway to the room.

“Breakfast next and then bed?" Max asked.

“Breakfast indeed. Let's see how the other two whelps handled that."

Both chuckled as they began ascending the stairwell.

Once they were outside the Domicile, the two guardsmen and magistrates immediately began mingling and blending in with the citadel citizens, while roaming lazily throughout the spacious huge marketplace area that surrounded the central citadel structure. All four agreed to split up into pairs and be less noticeable. Tony said him and Mike would remain in the current Farmers Marketplace, while Lance and Justin went to the East side of the citadel to the Tradesmen Marketplace. They would meet up again at lunch time, just outside of where Shamus Doughtry's place was located, at the north end of the citadel. Tony himself was grateful they started so early. There was very few people out and the vendors were just about done unpacking their booths and getting them fully stocked. The bulk of the traffic was from the brave farmers who lived outside the citadel, in small villages protected by their own sacred crystal powered perimeters. Tony noticed Mike looking longingly at a few of the farmer's coming in through the West Defense Wall entrance and gave him a nudge.

“Something bothering you about those produce carts there?" Tony asked him.

“Not really. Just sure I recognize the mark on the horses harness chest piece." Mike replies.

“Oh? Someone to avoid?"

“Not at all. They're from my home village."

“Ah. Didn't grow up in a citadel."

“Nope."

“Hard life. Living out there without the protection of walls and guardsmen."

“We did alright. We had our ways of keeping our presence… minimum."

“Smart. Sentinels focus primarily on the citadels anyway. Hear very little about them harassing the outside villages."

“Yeah. An actual up close encounter maybe happens once a decade. Otherwise, it is nothing more than one being spotted at the edge of the woods. They would just stand there and watch us. Still as statues. Then they would just walk back into the woods and disappear. So bloody creepy."

Both stopped at a recently stocked booth and examined some harvested squash.

“Any particular one catch your eye gentlemen?" A young man with no facial hair and wearing the hood up on his heavy coat asks them, while rubbing his hands together.

“Have any squat, more round ones?" Mike asks.

“Over here." The man directs them to a crate near him, at the other end of the booth.

Tony then decides to volunteer as the one to set the conversation bait, as they walk over to them.

“You think your Mrs. would find these brighter yellow ones more pleasing?" He asks Mike.

The guardsman's quick thinking caught on, as he picked one of the gourds described.

“She just might. Always complaining about how last weeks selection was so drab looking."

“A gourd tastes like a gourd when it is soup." Tony taunts.

“True. But she takes great care in keeping as much of the shell intact, for craft projects."

“My mum is the same way sir." The young man comments.

“What about your Mrs.?" Mike asks Tony

“She is not so picky about color or shape really. She just cuts it all up and has me help her with delegating the different parts for different uses and jars. I personally think she just does it so she has someone to talk to, when her friends are not around for exchanging gossip. The bulk of it really doesn't interest me, but I have learned the right responses for the right moments."

“She often strays into subjects that only interest women, does she?" Mike asks while picking up two nice looking gourds and hands them to the young man.

“Oh yes. She probably doesn't do it intentionally. But it happens."

“Just make sure when you discuss a man's input you don't stray like that."

All three laugh, as the young man places the gourds into a small burlap bag.

“You are certainly right about that one. Some of the recent gossip you hear among the men is stuff that just might make her faint at the prepping table." Tony picks up one and hands it to the young man. The vendor pauses with the open bag and gave Mike a look that asked for approval to mix the purchases. The guardsman nodded.

“You may want to use more effort with her, after browsing the marketplace today and eventually hear what just got exchanged among us setting things up this morning." The young man advises while adding the third small gourd.

He simply folds the loose end of the bag over and leans across the gourd selection. He pauses and holds the filled bag close to him.

“My friend four booths down told me something himself that the council itself would consider scandalous." He then extends the bag forward and exchanges it for currency with Mike.

The young vendor straightens back up and looks around, before leaning forward again.

“Excuse me sir. I think you may have miscalculated." He directed towards Mike offbeat.

Mike raised an eyebrow and leaned forward to look at the currency himself.

“Ask my friend about that new gossip. Use the magic word Minotaur." he tells Mike.

“Seriously?' The guardsman questions.

“Trust me. Once you hear what comes next, it will make sense."

The vendor then straightens back up and smiles.

“Oh, my mistake sir. It's the correct amount. You have a good day." He adds and waves.

Both just waved back at him and moved down the line of produce booths.

“So any idea who will want the gourds you just bought?" Tony discreetly asks Mike.

“I was actually thinking of the handlers back at the Domicile. They are really into the green and fruity stuff. These smaller sweeter gourds will really make their day… and I owe them something nice anyway." Mike answers while giving the bag in his hand a couple soft pats.

Once they had passed three booths, they both stopped and looked at one that was dominated by various size jars and stone jugs. The jars were clear and had varying shades of amber colored stuff inside them. Tony's keen canine sense of smell detected honey and various syrup like substances. The vendor at the booth was equally young and lacking facial hair. He did not seem to be as bothered by the morning chill and was wearing a basic long coat over normal farming clothes. The man had curly red hair and was getting quite freckled in the face.

“Morning gentlemen. Could I interest you in some tasty morning additions to your usual breakfast. My dad and I are offering our usual fall season discount again?"

Mike and Tony looked at each other and shrugged, before approaching the booth and did some casual visual inspection of the honey jars. The groundsman picked up one of the bigger jars with some very dark honey. He knew right away that it was from outside the citadel. The stuff was too dark to be from the local orchard bees.

“Ah, I see you like that one in particular sir." the freckled vendor commented towards Mike. “That there honey is from the village Chaney."

“Anything special about it?" He asks while holding the jar up and turning it around.

“They are known for growing those purple narrow petaled flowers, with the prickly hard dark brown cores. The honey made by their bees tends to have a slight tang to it." The young man informs.

“Sounds like something to add a little life to the morning sausage." Tony comments. “The recent circulating gossip could certainly use it."

“Rumors of men cheating on their women with other men isn't interesting anymore?" Mike inquires, after setting the jar back down and exchanges a shared smirk with the vendor.

“Nothing wrong with little tales like that to pass the time. It just seems like we are about due for an update to the story and nothing is happening."

“So if you were the one to make the story interesting, what would you add to the gossip?"

“Unlike women, men don't need anything fancy and drawn out. It has to be something with an element to trigger that primal stuff inside all of us. That gets a man interested. I was thinking maybe add some sort of beastly or monstrous element to it. You know, like things from the old lore and legend class all of us took as kids."

“Women kind of already do that."

“True, but they turn it into some big romantic thing, with a little scandal. Men don't care for that romantic stuff. Men do however like hearing about some new kind of beast being discovered or rediscovered from the lost past. Maybe put that into the gossip."

“In what way?"

“Why not take something familiar to us and use it as a way of making something mythological more real within the story itself. Then instead of all that ridiculous romance, make it about raw sexual prowess. Something that speaks to a lot of men with their inclusive gossip stories."

“Whoa. Now you got me interested sir." The young vendor admits.

“A willing participant waiting to pass on the new version I just dreamed up." Tony quips.

“Alright. I'll bite. What did you have in mind?" Mike inquires.

“Why not the Minotaur. The original version we all know from school is a tale that ends badly for the man. What if we take that beast and give him a different reason to be formidable. Add a sexual element to it, that makes him intimidating for a whole other reason. From what I have been hearing alone about one particular spicy rumor, it wouldn't be that big of leap beyond what is already heard."

“Oh great. Now we can say there is a beast wondering the wilderness seeking to rape men, instead of goring them to death. I don't really see how that is any better." Mike admits.

“Excuse me sir. But I don't think you get it." The young vendor dares to volunteer. “What if it isn't rape. That is something worthy of truly great gossip status."

“You see? The young lad gets it now."

“Fine. Fine. Fine." Mike surrenders. “I see the angle now and have to admit a few drunk men especially could have some fun with that one. Even weaponize it as good nature harassment of each other's own sexual prowess."

The vendor then leans forward and grabs one of the honey jars, then motions with his hand for the other two to lean towards him.

“I was actually talking about such a specific rumor with a friend earlier, who sells the gourds a couple booths over. Both of us are surprised we are not hearing about men being escorted away by guardsmen, for relaying a gossip story as potent as what you just suggested."

“So somebody in the citadel pretty much already beat me to the idea?" Tony asks.

“Pretty much."

“Okay then. Let's hear it." Mike requests.

“Not here. I don't need a visit like that happening, then have my own dad be told why I got escorted away. He doesn't care for that sort of trouble. That man would make my life quite difficult for me over the next too weeks, if that happened here. I'll have you guys come around into the back of my stall and tell you there."

The young vendor then straightens back up and hoists the jar a little into the air.

“Since you are interested in actually buying a lot more of this one, I actually keep a few big barrels of it in back for such a lucrative opportunity sir." He intentionally says off beat, before turning and disappearing into the dim lit storage interior of the attached tent.

“Well, that was easy enough." Mike comments quietly to Tony.

Tony just nods and leads the way around the front of the booth, to a curtain now being held open by the vendor. The moment both walk through, the young man drops it back in place. It took Mike a little time to adjust to the interior dimness and had to be helped down onto an available stool. Tony had no trouble, but went ahead and faked having to search a bit for the seat of his stool. His keen eye sight however could clearly see the vendor was already sitting and had the look of anticipation on his face. This one definitely had something to tell them.

“Okay. Brace yourselves for this one, because calling it scandalous is an understatement and is sure to spawn many new gossip stories."

“We are listening." Tony assured him.

“What you suggested, as a way to make the gossip more interesting, is just the beginning of what someone already started on their own. In fact, the more my friend and I talked about it… the more it seems like something that really did happen. There is also the expected embellishment added to make it interesting. As far as we could tell, there is definitely something happening outside the citadel and it is starting to happen at the villages."

“That is how the gossip about the beast in the woods got started then?" Tony asked.

“So you have heard it too." The young man affirms.

“I have heard that it has been stalking people. Some say they even spotted it in the distance."

“Yeah same here. The latest gossip however tells of a beast focusing on the men and this eventually leads to an up close encounter. From there it proceeds exactly as you suggested, just to make the gossip more entertaining and interesting of course."

“This could have been told to us outside." Mike criticizes.

“Not the part about the encounter itself."

“So what does happen, that can't be mentioned outside?" Tony asks.

“The targeted men actually get fucked by the beast and it isn't rape." The vendor grins.

“Oh. Yeah, that would definitely get a man in trouble for circulating something like that. True or not, it is scandalous enough to warrant punishment from the Council itself. Gossip like that is considered morally corrosive to the structure of citadel society." Tony observes.

Mike began launching a serious of questions about the details of the story and how it slowly developed within the walls of the citadel. Tony took advantage of this moment and did a more thorough visual inspection of the red haired vendor, while he was distracted by talking with Mike. He could see odd movement in the young man's long coat at the waist. It was like the hand was buried deeper than possible and moving the fabric in an odd manner. His keen vision could also see that the fabric of the young man's trousers looked to be slightly crumpled and fitting noticably looser at the knees. The werewolf's ears could hear the vendor's breathing change and get slightly heavier. His nose began detecting the distinct scent of arousal hover around the young one. That was all the information he needed to confirm that talking about this new gossip was getting him aroused. The vendor was being clever about using the environment and long coat to conceal his self pleasuring session. Mike was soon done with his questions and asked if Tony had anything additional to ask himself.

“I'm pretty sure I now know enough to last me quite a while." Tony admitted and everyone chuckled.

“Well, we best be meeting up with our mates soon. Thanks for that very interesting story." Mike announced and then carefully got back to his feet and allowed Tony to help him to the curtain. “Give me a moment outside, to get my eyes adjusted. Then we can continue." He informs Tony.

The werewolf let the curtain fall back in place in front of him and then turned around.

“Having second thoughts and want to know more yourself?" The young man taunts.

Tony's eyes could see that the young man was no longer using the coat to conceal his masturbation and had the long coat wide open. The vendor raises a hand and curls his finger to come closer. The werewolf obliges and steps closer, before leaning over.

“Yeah. I could see it in your eyes." The vendor whispers towards his ear. “That same look I have been seeing on men's faces around me lately. Men who desire to be free and be who they were meant to be. That is why this new gossip is spreading so fast, it gives them something to hold onto, as an escape from the controlling society within these walls." The young man's masturbating picks up speed and his breathing gets more labored. “It's not so much about the raw sexual element of the man allowing himself to be taken like a woman and fucked so profoundly by a beast of legend. It's simply about freedom to choose his own sexual fate and live it on his own terms. Whether it actually be with another man or not. Just simple freedom." The masturbating and breathing increases. “But in the end, All us men end up at the same destination. Deep down, we all want that bliss and freedom we had when exploring such forbidden desires as boys. Us younger more horny ones just get there sooner and more willing to except it. I'm all for actually encountering that beast and letting him fuck me. Let him sink in me as deep as he wants and fill me with as much of his seed as he can give me."

With that, the young man closed his eyes and let out a stifled muffled whimper, as he shot his cum out and away from both of them across the dirt floor. Tony decided to give him some sort of reward for risking so much and moved in to give the vendor a short tongue diving passionate kiss on the lips. He then straightened back up and gave the curly red hair a couple strokes.

“Thank you." The young man whispers with his eyes still closed.

Tony then turns and slowly walks out the vendor tent. Mike was still standing there and finally had his eyes completely open after a couple more blinks. He then looks towards Tony.

“I thought you had enough information." Mike criticizes.

“I was just giving the young ignorant lad some pointers about watching himself in this place."

“That was actually not a bad idea. He was a little too eager to share what he had."

Both begin walking towards the north end of the citadel complex.

“So what did you think of the entire story, now that you have heard the unabridged version?"

“I will need a little time to process that and then figure out a good way to present it to Matt."

They would occasionally stop at a random booth and compare what they knew, to what each vendor would tell them. By the time they finished exploring the Farmer's Marketplace, they were right by a large outdoor eating establishment and waited for the other two to arrive. They didn't have long to wait and soon spotted them approaching from the East. The business itself was nothing impressive and simply a group of different colored connected tents covering tables with benches. The moment all four picked a spot and sat down, a lady appeared from the nearby small open building. She approached the table with a tray and a pitcher, plus four mugs. She had long brown hair, that was braided in the back and wore a humble brown bib overall style work dress, with a green long sleeved shirt underneath. The dress came no further down than her calves, with brown boots covering the rest of her legs and feet.

“If you gentlemen came for breakfast, you're too late. Husband is already roasting the big meat and is all set for the lunch crowd. Our sliced beef with a side of new potatoes is on special today." She announces as she fills each mug and then sets the pitcher down in the middle.

“You know what miss? That actually sounds great." Lance replied and looked at the other three, whom nodded in agreement.

“Alright. Four specials it is." She announced with a smile, then spun around and walked away briskly, with her pony tail swinging with each step behind her.

All four then proceeded to exchange gathered information, from all the booths they visited this morning. The guardsmen also took it on themselves to inform the other two about Matt's own suspicions about what is happening and the possible nature of the primary gossip source. There was simply too many men with knowledge of these alleged encounters.

Stan was busy with trying to crack the color coded system his dad devised for the file storage tiles, while occasionally checking on the three acolytes. They were already at work with getting the revised temporary map created and had moved the book table over next to the map table, to speed up the process itself. All four stopped when they heard two knocks and Matt's familiar voice. Luke volunteered to get the door. He opened it and was greeted with a large tray holding a whole ham, along with a selection of fruits and a bowl of boiled potatoes.

“Thanks Matt." Stan announced behind him.

“Eat well and see you guys later tonight." Matt returned, before leaving and closing the door.

There was also a couple loafs of bread, which was quickly sliced up length ways and quartered for sandwiches. Jacob handled cutting the ham and Mason took care of the sandwiches. Luke was working on cutting and mashing up the potatoes, then handing over the plates for the companion sandwiches. Mason took the first plate over to Stan and set it down near where his hand was resting on the gliding pointing device.

“Thanks Mason." They both exchanged a smile and nod.

Luke pushed and stacked the books to one end of the table, so the three of them had a place of their own to eat. Mason made sure everyone had water to drink as well.

“Based on the lake itself, how big is the mystery valley Stan's dad referenced in the video?" Luke asked after a couple bites.

“Looks to be roughly four miles long and two miles wide." Jacob comments after glancing back at it briefly. “It is also drawn in an odd way. The are things about the lake that doesn't make sense, when you proceed to examine the map more closely."

“Then there is the travel journals." Mason added.

“Yeah. The travel journals." Jacob admits himself.

“What about the journals?" Luke inquires.

Mason grabs a familiar book and opens it to the entry he bookmarked with a ribbon the previous day. He sets it down within comfortable viewing distance for Luke. All three resume eating and enjoy some quiet time, as Luke eats and reads at the same time. By the time everyone had finished eating, he was on his feet and examining the map very closely.

“Hey Jacob. This lake was added and not originally part of the map itself."

Mason and Jacob looked at each other and then got up to see what Luke found. Jacob then grabbed a nearby small map magnifier and handed it to him. The magnifier was placed over a spot on the lake that narrowed and then seem to just cut off. Luke bent over and peered through the magnifier, then raised back up and motioned for the other two to see for themselves. All three could see clear signs where a boundary was drawn in place and then later another line drawn over it to connect with another line. This effectively transformed a feature that originally showed a passage in between two ravines, into a narrow patch of water along a lake coastline.

“I wonder if the other four similar spots along the coastline are the same way?" Jacob asked.

“Let's find out." Mason answered and moved the magnifier himself over another place of interest. He bent over and looked at the lines closely, before finding the same alteration.

“Well?" Luke inquired.

“It's there too." Mason answered.

“Now we definitely need to see the rest of those files." Jacob suggested.

Mason straightened back up and nodded in agreement with Luke.

“So now comes the question, Who would go to such great lengths to hide a huge valley?" Stan asked the three young men, from his place at the machine, as they looked his way and saw him looking right back towards them. “My instincts say something really important is located there. Something that the Council doesn't want the rest of us to know about."

“Any particular information gathering strategy for our final stop today or are we just simply going to socialize and listen?" Lance asked no one in particular, as him and Tony approached a pair of stained wooden doors with Justin and Mike in front of them.

“This is where all four of us split up and completely disappear among the men." Justin answered. “We ended up with a lot of remaining questions and something tells me those answers can be found here. It is what Matt initially suspected and what we eventually guessed on our own."

The doors themselves was set into the middle of a privacy wall that was identical in size and scale to the one at the other end of the citadel. This one however was not directly visible and concealed by very tall bushes planted ten feet from it. The wall was also smoothed down, to provide a better surface to display the murals painted on the stone. These murals were best appreciated when standing at a distance by the bushes and displayed most of the men barely wearing any clothes and socializing with each other. Some of the men were even naked and lounging by bathing pools. There was a large wooden carved sign that hung above the doors and read THE GROVE. One of the double doors then opened and two casually laughing men walked out, then saw the group of four and politely exchanged nods with them, before passing and moving on. Unlike the men in the mural, they were fully clothed. Mike reached out and held the door open, as the other three walked through with him.

On the other side of the doors was a sprawling dense grove of trees, that completely filled in the huge space that was identical in size and dimension to the garden area of The Sanctuary. Just enough sunlight filtered in through the canopy above, to allow one to see where some of the exposed tree roots were located. The area itself was split cleanly in half by the wide covered gray stone walkway, that was decorated with simple stained wooden benches placed in between every other support archway on the sides. There was signs of a few men walking among the trees near the path, with a couple here and there socializing. Each one displaying a more casual attitude, while also missing their shirt or boots or both. Lance squinted his eyes to see deeper into the grove and could swear there was a pair of naked men far from the path. Tony handed Lance the back pack and motioned he was splitting away from the group. Both nodded to each other in silent recognition. Justin and Mike took notice of the departure and then nodded to each other, before splitting apart and going their separate ways into the grove as well.

Lance kept walking until he could no longer see signs of the other three near him, then picked up his walking pace and kept going until he was near the stained double doors of the structure ahead of him. The stained carved sign over it read SANCTUM. Once again a door was opened for him, as a man barely old enough to be in this place stepped through. The blonde haired young one nearly froze in mid step, then got a reassuring pat on the shoulder and smile from Lance, before he continued walking on by him. The heat that was seeping out through the open door, hit him with more force as the door closed and then quickly plunged him into illumination levels just bright enough to see where one had to step. The entry area was a humble ten by ten feet square, with a stone wall directly in front of him. It was simple and had a very long shelf attached at chest height, holding a long row of burning candles. They highlighted a blunt but simple message.

This is a place of honesty. There is no expression more honest than that of a naked person. Leave your clothes behind and embrace the honesty. Thievery is not honest and punished by us taking something from you. If this is too honest for you… Leave.

Shamus Doughtry

Lance then looked left and right of the wall, to see the wall continue into the shadow of open doorways. Wisps of steam occasionally drifted out and brought with it scents one identifies with the those of a forest being awakened by the morning sun. He chose the one on the left and walked on into another room, with white narrow wooden lockers lined all along the wall on the left. The room itself stretched for forty four feet, all the way to the far wall. The floor was partially obscured by a thin carpet of mist, fed by wisps of more steam floating through the far doorway.

“So what do you think of your first time here?" Came words from just beyond the room.

“I honestly didn't think I would enjoy this place that much."

“Glad to hear it. It certainly took a lot to finally get you here."

“I appreciate that mate and thank you for being persistent about it."

Lance chuckled to himself, while selecting an open empty locker and putting the back pack in it, before setting down on the nearby wood bench. He removed his boots first and then his trousers. The shirt was the last to go in the locker, before he extracted the borrowed book from his back pack and shut the door. The man then walked towards the continuing conversation and out the doorway, into an open area not too different from the Council Chamber. There was columns and a ceiling four floors up above him. There was the presence of very tall windows, just like at the Council Chamber. But the stone floor stretched no further from the outside wall than ten feet. Beyond it was just dirt and dense foliage, that completely blocked the view of the other side. To be honest, it was a little difficult to see very far in front, due to the persistent mist rolling out from between the foliage. There was the sound of water being mildly splashed in the distance, coming from the direction he was walking. Lance new this to be the source of the mist. The foliage kept the hot water fed wading pool hidden.

The man continued walking along the stone outer edge towards a wood frame primitive lift, that gradually became more visible, as he approached the opposite corner and the twenty by twenty square stone floor area that actually connected with the nearby column. The lift was a humble ten foot by ten foot box frame, that was ten feet tall and had a single wooden rod between each pole at chest height. Standing near the lift was a hairy and naked bearded man that looked just like the big horse handlers. The man also looked to be hung like a horse, with a flaccid shaft that was obviously above average for a man in both length and thickness. He stood by a familiar primitive crank wheel, that was the obvious means of moving the lift. The crank wheel was next to a much bigger wheel, that likely transformed small into big moving force. The big man had him walk up to a wooden panel in the wall and slid it up. Beyond the panel was an angled mirror, that reflected a blank open space from the floor far above. A bearded face nearly identical to the one standing next to Lance stepped into view and then nodded, before a nearby narrow pole moved vertically and knocked on the stone floor twice.

The wooden panel was then slid back in place and the large man motioned with an extended hand to step into the lift. Lance nodded and complied, then held on to the horizontal rod as the lift began slowly rising upwards. The large man showed no sign of the cranking effort being the least bit difficult for him. After ascending a distance no higher than what would be the second floor, visibility of the ground level was already cut in half by the combination of the moving mist and the sunlight bouncing off of it. Lance simply waited on the lift patiently and admired the view of the well maintained indoor garden. After a few moments, the air began rapidly clearing of the mist and sight of the square opening of the floor above, treated him to a welcome view of the other large man. He couldn't help but smile as he spotted equally large male equipment on him as well. Another naked hairy bearded man then came into view and displayed hair that was red everywhere. His face structure just as squarish as the horse handler size men managing the lift itself. He was also just as large in size.

“Lance. Good to see you again." Shamus greets him with a handshake when the lift stopped.

“Hello Shamus. Brought back your book." Lance replies and hands it over to the man.

“Ah yes." The man flips the book around for a quick inspection of it's condition. “You took good care of it. Thank you." Shamus smiles at him and then turns to walk briskly towards a very large desk at the far side of the floor, in front of a large pair of open slender windows.

Just like the ground level section, this floor was completely open wall to wall. The only exception was the private library, marked by a pair of doors just down the nearby wall in the middle. All the columns and stone walls of the room were painted white, enhancing the presence of the wooden stained bookcases that stretched all around the huge room and filled with dusty books. The ceiling itself was two floors up and provided ample space above the bookshelves for various large framed paintings, that depicted many male themed social things classified as scandalous by the Council.

There were also curious things occupying the space in between bookcases and setting in front of the columns along the wall. They took on the form of faceless statues, dressed in strange looking clothing and possible types of armor from the distant past, before the Great Cleansing. The middle free standing columns were left bare and exposed to the room, with the exception of familiar looking crystals mounted on them to provide light during the night. At the middle of the room was two familiar huge pyramid like crystals. One was setting in the floor and the other suspended at the sealing within the expected metal mounting hardware attached at the four columns. Between him and the crystals was a square oversize bed with no head board. The solid pedestal wood frame had the same finish as the bookcases and made it look like the bed was setting on one huge wood box. There was bed linens of varying thickness and shades of brown draped all over it and many black pillows scattered over them. Lance could see there was three other beds just like it, placed near their respective corners of the room.

The ceiling itself was broken up into individual squares with white dividing borders. Each square was created in a curious style that made the border the bottom of the scene and the middle the top, easily marked with clouds in the sky. The individual scenes depicted were historical in nature, but stylized with mythological themes and characters. Lance took his time walking towards Shamus and the desk, while admiring the detail and effort it must have taken to paint each one directly onto the ceiling. Little did he know that the red haired man was watching him the whole time and finally broke the silence with a polite throat clearing and smile, once Lance was at the desk in front of him.

“I see that different look on your face, when gazing upon my office this time. You definitely read my book and finished it a changed man." Shamus accuses lightheartedly with a shaking finger. “Didn't I tell you it would make a positive impact on you?"

“How I look at a lot of things in here has definitely changed in ways I am just now beginning to understand, when seeing them again." Lance answers after slowly bringing his eyes down to Shamus.

“I consider myself a solid judge of character and was confident you could handle what was written in these pages." Shamus observes, while picking the book back up and shaking it.

The red haired man carries it with him around the large desk and sits in the padded high back chair, that looked curiously similar to a Councilman's chair and had a stained wooden frame, instead of a black one. He then sets the book down in front of him and invites Lance to sit in an identical chair positioned at the corner of the desk nearby and facing his chair. Shamus briefly got up, turned his chair to face back at it and then sat down at the same time as Lance.

“Now. Let's have a little chat. You obviously have questions that I am uniquely qualified to answer." The red haired man invites and gestures with a hand sweeping across the air towards the room and it's contents.

“Believe it or not, I have associates that were able to answer quite a few. What questions remain are ones I am now more brave about asking of this room you refer to as your office." Lance informs.

“Do I detect a bit of ambition from you now? That is very refreshing. Alright. Ask away."

“This room is originally the predecessor to the citadel archology. Isn't it?"

Shamus nods his head and smiles behind folded hands, but says nothing.

“The books that are out here in the open. They are likely not illegal, but are still books that the Council has likely forgotten about. Do they have anything to do with the clothes on the statues?"

Shamus just nods again and begins grinning.

“Knowing you to be a man that doesn't do anything without reason or purpose, This entire room itself likely serves a purpose. Just like this whole building serves a purpose."

Shamus then shifts forward in the chair and claps his hands lightly.

“My. My. You are quite the learned man. I can see the two of us becoming very good friends. You have such a beautiful, engaging and open mind." Shamus compliments, before getting up and walking to the small high table beyond the desk. He pours some water into two mugs from a pitcher.

“I am curious how it is even possible this room still exists." Lance inquires.

“A sheltered mind only sees what serves to keep that shelter intact." Shamus comments.

He then walks over to Lance and hands him a mug, before returning to his chair and sitting down. “The surrounding building and grove serves a purpose, that helps maintain stability and balance within the citadel. A purpose the Council and all those stuck up bitches in the Sanctuary are forced to accept. This condition in of itself serves as protection for the heart of the Sanctum. This room."

Shamus gets up from his chair and invites Lance to join him in a slow stroll across the room, while putting an arm around his shoulders.

“You see, everything in this room is connected with and serves a purpose beyond that of the Grove and Sanctum. Each part is like a stepping stone, along a path towards the truth that dwells within these walls and slumbers inside every man." He informs Lance.

“Pretty clever using mythology to disguise everything here."

“You and I both know that the mythology is also a truth in of itself. A profound truth."

“So what is with having no reading desks or chairs? Just the four oversize beds placed around the room and lots of pillows on each one?" Lance asks as they pause at one of the square oversize beds.

“I prefer the men, that come here and learn these treasured truths, to be as relaxed and at ease as in the rest of the Sanctum. Keeping their minds open to the possibilities within the pages of the dusty books and painted on the ceilings above them."

“Does it matter to you how much of it they accept as truth and how much they disregard as storied embellishment?"

“Not at all. I know from personal experience of running this place, that with each visit they eventually come around to accepting all of the truth. Some are just a little more quicker about it than others. People like you Lance."

Shamus moves his mug over and lightly taps it with the one in Lance's hand, before raising it up and taking a long drink that empties it. Lance follows the example and empties his mug in one drink as well. The red haired one then takes both mugs and set them down by one of the nearby columns, before walking back to the bed and sitting down on it. He pats a spot next to him and looks up to the ceiling. The magistrate takes the hint and sits down next to him, then looks up himself.

“Take a long lingering look at that painting up there. Take in every detail. Understand what is happening in the different parts. See the connections between them and know the story." Shamus suggests before laying back on the bed, interlocking his fingers behind his head and closing his eyes.

Lance leans back on his elbows, to make the viewing more comfortable for his neck and examines the scene displayed. He takes in each detail that gets his attention. In the background and under the sky, there was a cluster of structures that looked a lot like a citadel. Their colors looked odd and were varying shades of blue, mixing together to create the illusion of glass. There were elevated paths leading out both sides and disappearing behind hills. There was one slick black path that came forward and disappeared behind the bushes and trees, that served as backdrop for what was happening in the foreground. There were men and women alike casually walking around, in various stages of undress. One couple was up on a low tree branch and whispering to each other, with nothing but a draping sheet over their legs. Another couple was lounging naked on a blanket below them. Mixed in were couples comprised only of men and some of them were completely naked as well.

Then his eyes spotted someone out of place and hiding behind a tree with a look of disdain on her face. She was obviously completely clothed and looked a lot like a councilman, but without anything on her head. She was reaching behind the tree and had her hand hooked into the collar of a fully clothed man, showing clear signs he wanted to join the people in the foreground. There was a second man standing by him and partially concealed by a bush. He was whispering into the man's ear and pointing to another part of the scenery. This part was intentionally painted identical, but had all naked men in it. Each of them at various ages and displayed various body types. There were signs of some men staying to the background and cautiously peering forward from in between the bushes. One of the men had a wolf whispering to him, with a connected furred arm pointing to the third section. The background changed this time, showing buildings with smoke rising from their damaged surfaces.

This time the lounging pair on the ground was a man and a wolf man. Each of the stroling pairs were made of man and wolf man. Unlike in the previous two sections, there was also obvious signs the men and wolf men were groping each other. The whispering couple in the tree were kissing. The clothed woman in the background was back and grinning wickedly, with an identical companion woman whispering in her ear and pointing to the fourth final section. This one was very different and showed the background buildings now overgrown with greenery. The hills no longer had a manicured look and the two elevated paths were in ruins. The path running forward towards the viewer was no longer black or slick and in a state of severe neglect. It was now nothing more than dirt.

The kissing couple had now been changed to two lifeless forms hanging over the low branch at the waist. All the naked men were clustered together in the middle and looked worried, as their wolf companions lay on the ground lifeless. Some were looking up at the couple on the branch and crying. Flanking them on both sides of the scene were many of the women now. The women were all dressed in familiar black robes now and looked angry. They were pointing at the men and the lifeless wolves, while shouting at the men. Then there was the final detail that made absolutely no sense and completely contradicted everything he was taught about the destructive time before the Great Cleansing. Standing behind the yelling women was the unmistakable towering forms of the four Sentinels. Rhino, Ram, Boar… and the Bull Sentinel, with his hoof resting on the lifeless body of a wolf man.

Something about the final detail reached deep down inside Lance and yanked at something hard. It hurt and tears ran down his cheeks. His arms collapsed as his upper body flopped back onto the bed. He then rolled to his side and began sobbing. Had he viewed this painting before the events that transpired over the last day and before he had a very enlightening conversation with actual werewolves, He would have simply been a little confused and inquired about why the painting represented a reality, that dared to make a critical part of known history seem like a lie. The man still had questions, but all he wanted to do was just lay there and cry. Shamus took notice and rolled over to spoon and comfort Lance, while looking back up at the painting and focusing on the hidden figure beyond the trees in that last section. All that could be seen of him was a muzzle and pointed ears of a red crying wolf.

Justin and Mike was making much more progress than they ever expected, while mingling with the men in the grove and gathering most of the remaining information that Matt needed to know, about the nature of the Minotaur rumors and their origin. Both were fine with making the compromise of undressing a little themselves to blend in better. Justin was wrapping up one particular conversation with a naked black haired man, within the most hidden and shaded part of the grove.

“So you are saying that even the proprietor of this place, Shamus himself can vouch for the encounter you had two days ago?" He asked the man.

“Especially him. There was four of us guardsmen escorting a small caravan from a nearby farming village. Shamus was among the travelers and overseeing the transport of some select spices he uses within the Sanctum, to keep the air smelling fresh. He always insists on being present during the routine trip we make to the village itself. Calls it something like quality control."

“What village was this?"

“Chaney. The one famous for it's exotic dark honey. We would always make the trip to the village late in the day, spend the night and then leave early in the morning with the marketplace vendors. The caravan was kept small and simple, with only Shamus's two wheel cart and three open air canopied wagons. Smaller and easier to manage, should a Sentinel ambush happen and we are forced to defend ourselves alone. His cart always led the caravan. I would be his escort on my horse, while leaving the other three guardsmen to escort one wagon each. He always rode up front next to the horse handler and liked talking with me along the way. The woods are really colorful this time of year."

“Hey Jason." Shamus addressed the guardsmen riding next to the cart. “Notice anything peculiar about the treeline in the distance?"

The guardsmen leaned forward and squinted his eyes, to see ahead on the dirt road a little better amid the early morning fog. He then let his line of sight drift away among the barely visible trees.

“Over there." Shamus directed with a finger pointing to the same place as the handler sitting next to him.

Jason then saw something slightly out of place amid the trees. The fog was moving around something the same way it would around anything with significant heat radiating from it. Someone or something was standing there. Perhaps watching them? Whoever or whatever it was appeared to have serious size… if the nearby trees were any indication. He wanted to say it was possibly a Sentinel, but their blue glowing eyes always gave them away. It was also very difficult to see their legs amid the thicker ground hugging mist. He looked back to James and the first wagon, to see the handler pointing in the same direction. The guardsman then looked at him and nodded in confirmation.

“We should be careful, once we are within the woods." Jason suggested.

Shamus and the handler nodded in agreement, as the cart itself approached the edge of the woods. So far the horses were staying calm. Jason decided to ease tension with a different topic.

“Any thoughts about the growing popularity of certain gossip, that seems to be sweeping throughout the citadel among the men lately?"

“It certainly makes for good fantasy."

The brown haired handler next to him chuckled along with Jason.

“Surely you can do better than that short summary."

“Alright. Let's consider the nature of gossip. Just like with any of the old legends of written lore, it has it's seed of truth."

“That is buried inside a really big pile of shit." The handler chimes in.

“But that seed had to come from something that is quite real. As for why the gossip frequently migrates into sexual territory… well that is just the way of the men themselves. Consider the lives all us men live now and how challenging, for certain rather obvious reasons, that can be for us."

“So are you suggesting that there actually could be something like a Minotaur roaming the woods, looking for select men to seduce into being their breeding mate? Something that is considered nothing more than legend and that only a select few people even suggest they really existed long ago."

“I am saying that we shouldn't rule out the possibility that whatever gave validity to the legend itself, is what actually exists and roams the woods. Remember the history lessons about the Old World and the extinct institutions that sought to actually create such things for the strict purpose of war?"

“Yes and we are currently, dealing with one such creation. But they are machines and not flesh and blood." Jason reminds the man, before the caravan enters the woods and proceeds down the road.

“Touche." Shamus admits and looks around at the many colored leaves falling.

Jason then stops his horse and holds up a hand for everyone else to do the same.

“You hear that?" He asks no one in particular.

“I don't hear a thing sir." The horse handler comments.

“Exactly." Jason dismounts his horse and motions for the other guardsmen to do the same.

All four draw their swords, as Jason moves his hand in a circle through the air over him. The guardsmen maintained their spacing and slowly began circling the caravan. The vendors, whom were riding along, began unrolling the canvas flaps and secured them in place to conceal their presence in the wagons. Shamus could see the gap in the moving group and decided to add his assistance to the defensive perimeter effort. He jumps down and reaches over the side of the cart, his hand finding the familiar touch of a canvas wrap and the very long heavy thing concealed inside of it. The red haired man picked it up and uncovered the large two handed sword, before tossing the canvas back into the cart and taking up his position to close the perimeter gap. He then proceeded to walk at the same slow searching pace as Jason in front of him and got as far along as the end of the first wagon, when everyone heard the silence end with the sound of many tree branches snapping very close by. A guardsman on the caravan's opposite side and by the two wheel cart yelled out a warning.

Shamus spun around on one heal, just in time to see the cart and horse get lifted at an angle into the air at tremendous speed. The motion temporarily disturbing the fog and obscured sight of the thing that had just crashed into them. All four horses, the guardsmen were riding panicked and ran off in different directions into the fog shrouded brush. The horse of the first wagon whinnied and raised up on it's hind legs in panic, jostling the connected wagon, as the handler immediately tried to calm him down from his bench seat. There was muffled screams coming from inside the covered wagon, as the airborne cart and horse slammed into a barely visible tree within the fog. The cart shattered and the attached horse exclaimed with a mix of fear, surprise and pain… before dropping down into the dense ground cover with a thud. Some of the splintered wood fell and hit something metallic, with a familiar pinging sound. Before the fog began clearing, two perfectly horizontal aligned blue dots pierced it's smoky visage. A melodic metallic whining sound emanated from those two floating points of light. More of the swirling fog dissipated to reveal that it was a Bull Sentinel. The stallion of the first wagon then kicked backwards and completely smashed the hitch mechanism, freeing his connection and taking off away from the scene. His handler was quick to jump down and run after the panicked animal into the brush after him.

“Founders smite me." Jason cursed under his breath.

The other horses were also agitated, but were being kept more calm by the combined effort of both handler and guardsman each. Shamus remained in place and did not move, as Jason and James took up positions right behind him.

“Since when did you get a sword?" Jason inquires, while staring at the Sentinel nervously.

“It's a family heirloom." Shamus replies.

“Heirloom. That thing looks big and lethal enough to hack through metal." James observes of the unusually large sword, that required the man to visibly hold it up with all the strength in his arms.

“You know how to handle something that big?" James asks.

“Aye. It's an ancient type sword called a Clamore. My dad taught me well and made sure I got big enough to handle it."

“Good. We will need it."

All three then noticed the last two wagons near them turn and swiftly leave the woods. The other two guardsman quickly joined the group.

“Are you sure that was a good idea Jack?" Jason asks one of the two guardsmen.

“It was actually my idea." Terry defends. “The Bull Sentinel seems to be focused on just us. Otherwise it would have already torn the remaining wagons to pieces as well."

“He does have a point." James suggests. “It's just standing there and watching us."

“I noticed. This is strange for Sentinel behavior." Jason observes.

“Something to write in the report back at the citadel?" Shamus quips.

“If there is even a later for us." Terry adds and swallows hard.

The fog within the woods began to clear a little more and soon revealed that the Sentinel in front of them may not be alone. Everyone looks at Terry to say something and see him looking out into the surrounding woods, as more pairs of blue lights appear beyond the trees. They look back towards the closer Sentinel, just in time to spot a large fast moving airborne object manifest from behind it and then swiftly come down at the group. They dodged out of the way, just in time to see the limp form of a brutalized bleeding dead horse smash into the remaining wagon. The force of the impact sends the cart and dead horse tumbling into the brush. Now it was just them and the Bull Sentinel in the middle of the road, along with how many more waited in the trees. Everyone then hears a lot of branches being snapped in the distance, before multiple deep braying sounds echo through the thinning mist. The group looks at each other with a look of profound confusion and dread.

“What. Now they have learned to bray as well?" Shamus comments, to lighten the grim mood.

The nearby Bull Sentinel then raises up off it's hands and begins moving it's head around swiftly, as if it was desperately trying to spot something in the distance.

“Guys. Something tells me those are not Sentinels coming here." Terry observes.

“Well let's hope they ignore us and kill the machines then." Jack comments nervously.

“Everyone remain where you are and survey the perimeter." Jason reminds the group.

While Shamus kept his sight locked onto the visible Bull Sentinel, the guardsmen each picked a survey quadrant to focus on. The noise of snapped branches is soon joined by loud metallic pings and bangs, as the group notices more of the pairs of blue lights begin to disappear. That melodic metallic whining sound was now heard multiple times, as the sound of metal screeching and crunching under severe stress was soon heard as well. Then they swore they could hear yells and words coming from the direction of the disappearing lights.

“Stay dead!" One particular deafening yell echoed through the air, followed by a loud crunch.

“Who the fuck is out there taking out those Sentinels?" James whispered to no one in particular.

“Hopefully future allies?" Jason tentatively suggests.

“Uhm gentlemen. We need to run." Shamus suggests.

The four guardsmen turn to Shamus and then look beyond him at the Bull Sentinel. It had stopped it's frantic searching and was now standing completely still. The eyes had just turned red and a high pitched whine began emanating from inside the machine.

“Shit! Run!" Jason shouts and spins on his heels, to run the opposite direction away from the Bull Sentinel as fast as his legs could carry him.

Everyone else but Shamus was right behind him. The red haired man was already running just as swiftly in the direction of the horse and handler, with hopes he would find them. Then everyone was knocked off their feet and thrown through the air, as a concussive shock wave pushed them clear of the explosion that erupted from where the Bull Sentinel once stood. The detonation of it's internal power source had engulfed a radius area of one hundred feet with a highly flammable and corrosive fireball. Anything that could burn was first burned and then what was left over was dissolved. It was moments like this, that made Shamus grateful for his age and impressive experience. It empowered him with the ability to change faster than other werewolves. From the moment the shock wave tossed him into the air, to the moment his body made contact with the first tree branch, he managed to change into his bigger and much more durable form. The red furred werewolf then continued his angular downward descent through the trees, as the fireball consumed everything behind him.

Shamus allowed himself a moment of rest, as he waited for the surroundings to be cleared of the smoke and dust, then attempted to get back on his feet. Apparently the combination of running faster than ever before and the ordeal of crashing through the tree tops, had severely exhausted his system. He was sure he smelt some burnt fur and guessed that it was likely his own. A quick inspection of himself confirmed that most of his longer fur had black singed ends. It was then decided he revert back to human form and sit for a while against a nearby intact tree to conserve energy. Shamus gave his head a couple taps with his open palm, as the ringing finally subsided and let him begin listening for signs of any nearby activity. His heart then sank a little, as he heard the distinctive heavy stepping sound of the large hooves. Here he was thoroughly exhausted and no sword in his hand. Not his preferred way to be leaving this world, but he would at least still die with dignity on his feet. Using what little strength he had, Shamus pull himself up against the tree trunk. He managed to grab a nearby large rock and held it close to him, as the sound directly on the other side of the tree got louder. A deep voice he would normally associate with a werewolf then spoke directly towards him softly.

“You can come out from behind the tree. We destroyed the last of them."

Shamus slowly stepped sideways around the tree, then stopped and looked directly ahead at a towering Minotaur, that was breathing a little heavy. The living legend was wearing nothing but his black fur and holding a severed Sentinel head in one hand by the horn. As more dust and smoke began clearing away, he could see that this beast was also male and was somehow not all that surprised. The Minotaur then sniffed the air around him.

“You are a wolf." The black Minotaur observed.

“And you are supposed to be extinct." Shamus quipped with a chuckle and cough.

“We had to leave for a while."

“We could have used your help."

“The Labyrinth and it's knowledge had to be protected."

“Will you be leaving again soon?"

“No. We are staying. We are hear to help now."

Shamus simply nods and looses consciousness, before collapsing to the ground. The red haired man was greeted to the mildly jostling sensation of being carried, by the time consciousness began to return to him. He opened his eyes and was looking beyond a well developed black peck, at the thick neck and defined jawline of a black Minotaur. The view beyond the bull beast was much clearer now and multi colored. His nose no longer detected any of the aftermath from the Sentinel self destructing either. He must have been out for quite a while. Shamus then felt direct sunlight touch his skin and he looked sideways towards where the Minotaur was walking. Beyond the break in the trees at the road, he recognized the building outline of a village in the distance. It was the same one they had just visited and spent the night at. Standing directly ahead was the more defined outline of four more black Minotaur and four familiar naked men standing with them. The four Minotaur began walking his direction and simply nodded at him, as they passed on both sides of the one carrying him. Shamus was then taken right up to the guardsmen and slowly lowered down to his feet on the ground. He noticed the guardsmen were wet all over, like they had passed under a waterfall. They were likely spared from getting toasted in the blast, by jumping into some nearby body of water.

“You have some peculiar odds in your favor Shamus." Jason quipped and grinned.

“The shock wave from the blast is what saved me. I didn't have the convenience of jumping into a nearby pond or creek like you four obviously did. I got to say hello to a few squirrels, as the momentum sent me crashing through several trees. Good thing I had my clothes for padding."

“So where are your clothes now." Terry inquired.

“By the time I was on the ground again, what was still hanging on me wasn't what one would call clothes anymore. I simply shed the remaining pieces and left them behind."

“We are grateful our uniforms had some fire resistance or we would have been completely toasted ourselves, while being thrown through the air into the nearby river." James observes.

“Except once the uniforms made contact with the water, they started coming apart right away. Whatever the fire from those things doesn't burn, the fumes themselves eats it up." James adds.

“Speaking of clothes. What are we going to do about proper protection on the way back to the citadel?" Terry asked.

“That is on it's way here." The Minotuar answered and pointed up the road towards the village.

The four guardsmen turned around and saw a basic horse drawn hauling wagon rapidly coming up to the edge of the woods. The handler driving it waved in their direction and the five men waved back. Jason and Shamus then heard the Minotaur behind them begin walking away. They were quick to turn around, as Jason himself sent verbal gratitude towards the departing bull beast.

“Thank you for you help."

The Minotaur simply waved and kept walking on off the road into the brush. Jason then noticed Shamus was simply standing and watching the bull beast completely disappear into the brush. The guardsman could swear he could see a tear run down the red headed man's dirty cheek. He walked up and gave the man's arm a light tap with a closed fist. Shamus turned his head and smiled at Jason.

“You okay there friend?" The guardsmen asked.

'Me? Oh I'm feeling better than I have in a long time."

“Really? Maybe I should see about getting us in the middle of more life and death struggles then." Jason joked lightheartedly.

Both then burst out laughing and turned back around, just as the horse drawn wagon stopped and had men jumping off it with fresh civilian clothes in their arms, along with dry towels.