Fog of war. Chapter Five.
Fog of War
Chapter Five
By Roofles
The Ursa party stopped at the edge of a died forest. Black trees stuck up out of the ground every couple of feet from each other, looking more like corpses. Died husks standing still and lifeless not even blowing in the chill wind; compared to the vibrant forests back home in the valley? This place felt more like a graveyard. None of the trees had any leaves. Just gnarled, twisted black branches that stuck out in every angle like claws trying to swipe at any who drew too close.
The terrain was rough and unforgiving. Bumpy hills and rocky paths filled the forest floor. Not even a single blade of grass could grow here. Unlike the snowy plains they had been on hours before, this was a viscous broken world. Duran could see why the Ursa had made camp here. It was naturally hidden amongst this uneven earth and protected by the natural formation of the jagged rocks and twisting trees.
Unlike the wolves, the polar bears had dug their camp into the very cold earth beneath their feet and into one of the large mounds of earth. A massive trench surrounded their base. It was surrounded by an expansion of wall made of stone and wood, constructed and molded together with a concrete mixture. Long stakes had been sharpened and jammed into the walls, planted in the trench and layered the nearing hills. Tar soaked torches were lit on top of the walls, planted on the hills with the stakes and the polecat could make out guards walking up on the ramparts of them.
This wasn't a scouting base or hunting camp like the wolves had. This was a fortress.
The gate was hauled opened, a bridge lowered and the Ursa war-party made their way inside the fort. The iron gates were released and slammed shut to the ground. Somehow, it felt colder inside these walls than out even if the barricade stopped the wind.
The camp had several layers to it, reminding Duran as if he were standing in the center of a coliseum rather than a base. The bottom ring was mostly taken up by the large fire going. The outer layers raised up like steps all the way up to the surrounding walls. Dens or burrows, Duran wasn't sure what to call them, had been dug into the walls of these levels creating homes within the ground itself. It somehow seemed fitting. There were hand carved totems in the ground with skulls atop them; braided necklaces and ornaments hung over and around the entrances to the separate dens. Fish bones, scales and other entrails were dumped nearby in an ever growing pile making the whole place reek as if they were near the ocean.
The wolves could pack up their camp within an hour and leave. The Ursa had done something Duran was sure would been a grave insult to the Lupine. Building a base like this would be like planting a flag in the ground. Claiming this as their own territory. A declaration of war.
Braum stripped off his helmet as he came into the camp. Several of the other Ursa greeted him warmly and brought food, ale and a cloak over.
"Everyone," the bear called gesturing around them. There were far more Ursa here than Duran would've thought. Each were armored to some extent. Braum's voice echoed up the steps and even to the surrounding walls. "Please gather! Friends, family, warriors! We have an honored guest, from the Southern lands. A noble from the valley has come to our people."
There was a murmurr of low whispers and several of the bears looked at Duran. The polecat noted that there were only males within the camp. The wolves took pride in their strongest warriors female or male. The Ursa brought along even the scrawniest of males in order to keep up their number without using the woman. Most likely at home, or so Duran had read; serving as Denmothers to cubs and keeping the capital up and running. They weren't to be underestimated, these denmothers. Rumors says that they are the real force of the Ursa, the only reason why the capital didn't fall during the last Great War.
Duran was about to speak, to ask to see who the chieftain was. It was clear soon enough as Braum, the polar bear that had led the assault, was just that. The heavy cloak that had been placed over his shoulders had hand embroidered symbols on the shoulders and back. A headdress had been placed over his face and a pair of large antlers shoulder plates were soon added. His weapon was taken from him and arm guards soon removed leaving him mostly bare, save for the cloak.
"Greeting, friend of the Ursa." Braum finally said, addressing Duran now in front of his people. "I Braum, High-Reaver of the Ursa clan, welcome you to our humble camp." The bear motioned and one of the scrawnier males came over quickly to give Duran a cup of some purple ale. The servant bear seemed malnourished and was clearly one of the lowest members of the group.
Back home in the valley they had servants and maids that worked for the noble and high class. In the wolf camp, they kept proclaimed pets as slaves. Here? They used their own and treated them lower than the dirt beneath their feet; as this member of the Ursa was kicked aside and pushed to the ground, laughed at by the others as he quickly cleaned up the mess and left.
"Thank you for your kindness, it is a most welcome change from my previous... inhabitants." Duran gave a bow, placing one hand over his heart as he did so and trying to ignore the sight of the miserable Ursa slinking away. "I thank thee for the hospitality, great Ursa."
"And I welcome you, noble of the valley." Braum raised his hands up, addressing his troops now. "You're safety is guaranteed, in our walls. Amongst my troops, none shall lay a single paw on you." Braum lowered his voice. "Though, I don't suggest leaving my side." And he gave a wink, a chuckle and a threat all at the same time as he moved over to let Duran walk at his side, nearly underneath the cloak with him.
"Thanks." Duran replied, gritting his teeth at knowing he had escaped enslavement once, only to managed getting himself caught in another.
There had been a reason why those of the Valley, why the Empress hadn't sent him for instance to make contact with the Ursa clan. The bears were a large, fierce bunch that dominated the Western shores. Pillaging and ransacking any ships that drew into their borders; attacking towns along the coastline and traveling to the other continents to wreck unknown havoc.
They were seafarers, viking like warriors that during the Second and Third Great war were the leading Naval power within all the Northern Realms. The last great war had taken its toll, reducing them to nothing more than pirates on the open seas. Or so rumored would go. None had lived from any such encounter to report such things.
At least Duran was suppose to be secured safety with the wolves, had things gone as planned. The supposed honor of the wolves would keep him safe, so long as he didn't break the treaty. The polar bears had no such code of honor as far as Duran had been aware of and he was fresh game here.
"Come in, come in." Braum pressed giving the polecat a small shove forward. He seemed friendly enough, though Duran couldn't exactly refuse.
Straight across from the gate, up the steps and against the far wall was the largest of dens. The hole had a door over it and twin torches burning in front. There were more totems with elk skulls and boar tusks along the pathway up and to the front door of Braum's den. Two guards were stationed out front and with a wave of his paw, Braum told the two to step aside and let them in.
"We normally don't host, your kind." Braum just said as he shut the door behind him, commanding the other two to give them peace before hand. And not to bother them. "But please, make yourself comfortable. There aren't any currently open dens, so you may have to bunk with one of the troops." The bear chuckled a bit at that, taking his shoulderguards off and setting it on the side table.
The table was made of a fine oak wood that wasn't seen here in the North. There were maps laid out over the table. A few books pushed to the corner and twin candles burning. There were four knives stabbed into the corners of a map, holding it down on the table, that took up the whole of the table. It seemed to be of the current region. There were highlighted parts, markings and even one for Duran's now destroyed camp. The Ursa appeared to be slowly branching further and further out from three bases along the shores, mapping things as they went.
Duran wondered what good it would do to map the wolf camps; the Lupine were known for setting camp wherever they needed too. Moving every few days and never staying in one place more than that. It'd still at least give them a feel of what was going on, and even Duran made a mental note of everything.
"See something of interest?" Braum asked, walking over. The large, slightly brown polar bear was wearing only the heavy cloak now.
"I hadn't been aware that the Ursa clans had moved so far inland." Duran just said, turning to face the bear.
"Well..." Braum cleared his throat, moving a hand to scatter the books and other papers over the map. He leaned against the table. "Let's talk about that another time. You must be thirsty from your travels. I can get some of the finest of fish this side of the North in only a couple of minutes. You do, enjoy fish?" The bear asked, leading Duran over and letting him sit down on a stool normally reserved for paws.
"Of course, that sounds too good to be true." Duran just played along, smiled and agreed still focusing on what he had seen on the maps. There was more than one reason why Duran had been chosen to come to the North. The difference of palates amongst the various clans had always been a divider between them. An omnivore like Duran could fit in amongst most however, while a Leporidae, a rabbit or hare, wouldn't have a chance amongst carnivores.
"Excellent! Then a feast! For our future friendship." Braum offered up a goblet of ale he had gotten on the way in. Duran picked the one he had been given up and the two clanked glasses. "Cheese," Braum said after taking his seat. The bear pulled out a platter from a storage unit built into the ground, acting like an ice box.
Braum removed the cover and spun the tray around, towards Duran. Several of the pieces of white cheese covered with herbs were missing and only a few were left. The polecat picked one up and chewed only the corner of it. Only after Braum had downed three of his own.
"Wow, this is... this is excellent!" Duran finished the piece hungrily and Braum chuckled at that, offering him some more.
"It is so refreshing to be around company that is so... refined," Braum swirled his drink, letting it breathe, before taking another sip of the wine. "The others can't appreciate the finer things in life. I'm envious of you and those of the valley." And the bear grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack next to his bed and poured himself, and Duran, some more. "Boar cheese with a hint of rosemary, thyme and just a dash of olive oil. Simple, yet extraordinary on the palate." Braum took two pieces in his fingers, crushing them together and stuffed them into his muzzle.
"Reminds me of home." Duran said, taking another drink. It was sweet, this wine was almost too sweet. "I don't wish to be rude, but I don't see any woman here."
"We are not so barbaric as the wolves are. Our woman stay within the capital, in the cities to watch over the cubs. We call them DenMothers and they are not to be trifled with." And Braum joked "Most the men prefer the company of each other, than of them. There are far less injuries." He didn't joke this time.
Duran was warming up to him. Such a welcoming place, warm atmosphere and company was a change. Something he hadn't thought to be possible in the North.
He didn't even need to lie to himself. Being on such pleasant terms, Duran thought it best to seek what he had originally been tending to do back at his camp before they had been ambushed.
And he spent some time asking Braum about the North and of both the Ursa and Lupine activities. The polar bear answered and evaded most equally. Wishing to talk about other matters, such as of the wolf camp. Their defenses. And their numbers. It was Duran's turn to be evasive, unsure as to why exactly he hadn't answered the questions.
Braum nodded at that, pouring Duran another glass and offering it back to him.
"Would it be possible, by chance." Duran took another sip of the drink. It had a bad aftertaste this time around. "To be able to..." The polecat held his head a bit, closing his eyes as his thoughts become muddled. "Be possible to... to..." And the glass slipped from his fingers.
"To?" Braum asked, a smile slowly crossing the Ursa's face as he watched the polecat waver.
"Send a mes....ssage back home." Duran coughed then, eyes widening a bit as he looked at his spilled drink.
"Looks like your in no condition to be writing letters, little polecat." The bear chuckled lightly, leaning back and watching with delight as Duran swayed until falling to the ground himself. "Should've just answered my questions. Could've kept this civil."
"My-my drink," Duran vision becoming blurry and he saw three goblets in front of him now. "You spiked my drink!" He looked up at the bear that had turned into three and spun around one another much as the goblet had been. Duran cursed at his carelessness as he collapsed to the ground.
Braum got up slowly, placing his own goblet on the table. The large bear crouched down in front of the polecat.
"Can't have you warning the valley about our march, now can we? Or your little wolf friends." And Braum chuckled a bit more as two guards quickly came into the room at the commotion. "Take him to the holding cell. I'll question him when he regains consciousness." And he waved them off as they each took one of Duran's arms and carried him away.
Braum walked back to the table, moving the papers and books out of the way and looking at the center map. Touching each of the forts they had set up before tracing the line between them, like an arrow all of which were pointing at the Valley's Northern entrance. One of his nails scratched at the opening and he snarled. "Soon enough. Even your treaty with the wolves won't be able to protect you."
....
Back at the wolf camp, Arn was receiving treatment for his wounds. The hunting party that had come to his aide had done would they could until bringing him back to be handled by the medicine man. The wolf was currently bandaging the wounds with a special gauze and ointment. Arn could did little more than sit there while the work was being done, cursing under his breath the whole time.
Cursing at the pain in his side. At his own weakness. And that he had let Duran slip out of his fingers, having to rely on the polecat for protection in end of all things! Arn would never be able to forget that.
Even as the medicine man of the pack began bandaging his wounds, Arn was already beginning to return to the scene of the crime in his mind. To get revenge for what happened. And to make them pay for what they've done. The worst part was? He now knew how Duran had felt when the wolves had attacked his camp. It had been so sudden, so brutal that there was very little retaliation they could manage to return to the wolves. As Arn could do so little against the Ursa that had jumped him.
The wolf clenched his fist tightly, sitting in the very middle of the camp with his legs crossed. The medicine man spoke very little, just telling him to not move or to lift his arms. Doing his work with a skilled practice that even impressed Bernard. Who was sitting on a wooden chest in front of his brother.
Bernard didn't say anything. Letting the medicine man do everything he needed to do before he even spoke a single word.
"You left the camp," Bernard began laying out the crimes Arn had comitted. "Returned to the where we pillaged those who had entered our territory, even after I explicitly told everyone not too. You even brought your pet along with you." Bernard finally looked up at him with his one good eye, his other had a massive scar over it that ran all the way up to the ear on that side. "And lost him."
Arn snarled a bit at that, clenching his fist tightly.
"Injured, calling for help... and unable to even bring down one of your attackers." Bernard shook his head once more, testing the weight of his hooked trident in one hand. He was beyond disappointed in not only his brother, but a member of his pack. "Have you nothing to say for these crimes against your own?"
"Crimes?" Arn spoke the word, glaring at his brother. Wanting to rage and shout, to rip their very camp apart for holding this mock-trail while only the Gods know what was happening to Duran.
The wolf controlled himself however, letting out a slow heavy breath. A single thought had run through his head that kept him from mouthing off, to violently telling his brother how he felt. What would Duran do in this situation?
A polecat. Something that was nothing more than a snack for a mighty wolf had survived several nights within the wolf den. With only his wits, cunning and words to keep him alive. Some fancy sword play was only the icing on the cake.
Arn knew he couldn't, alone, save him. Let alone wounded as he was. So he tried a different approach. Something that wasn't becoming for a mighty Lupine. Diplomacy.
"It is true," Arn spoke in a heavy tone keeping his anger in check. "That we... that I left camp without giving word. That I brought my... pet, along with me. That is not the issue here." And Arn looked up at his brother with a steely resolve.
"It isn't?" Grimkel snarled, standing up now. "You betrayed us! Betrayed your Alpha! Abandoned our duel. Your nothing more than an insult to-," the wolf was soon silence as Bernard lifted up one hand to stop him.
"As Grimkel so kindly pointed out," Bernard glared at the wolf. Grimkel backed down quickly and slinked back behind a few of the others. "How is this not the issue?"
Arn had to take another slow, pained breath between clenched teeth. The bandages over his wounds burned and stunk of something foul. "The issue... Alpha," Arn addressed his brother with the word. "Is that the Ursa have never come this far inland... not since the last war." The wolf pointed out with a finger. "It's true and I do not deny my crimes. A crime that is nothing more than a drop in the storm that's about to hit us."
This seemed to draw the attention of all the other wolves who had gathered around in a circle around Arn, giving Bernard plenty of distance out of respect.
"The Ursa attacked me." Arn folded his ears back, baring his teeth. "They were the ones to betray us. Breaking the truce they themselves had begged for! Taking what is ours. Attacking a wolf. Invading our territory. These are not things an Alpha, dear brother." And he snarled the words now. "Can overlook. This is an insult you cannot overlook. An insult to every wolf worth his teeth!"
Bernard quirked a smile at that, almost about to laugh. As if he had been waiting for Arn to bring that up. Bernard hadn't thought his brother would start off with it however.
It wasn't just reasonable, it was the most rational thing Arn could have said to sway any of the wolves opinions on the matter. To insult them like this was a greater crime than Arn had committed. The Alpha-king would easily overlook both Arn and his crime at this insult to his people, to his lands and to breach the truce that had passed at the end of the war? It was something his people, that he the great Alpha-King had been waiting for. An excuse to resume the war.
Arn could smell the anger. The bloodlust in the air. And see the enjoyment on several of the wolves faces. Within minutes every wolf was getting ready.
Bella, the female with the twin bladed axe, was already sharpening her weapon with delight in her eyes.
Arn looked around to see most of the other wolves were beginning to do the same. To toss off the leather gear they wore during the hunts. And to dawn the blackened steel armor reserved only for times of battle.
"Well done, brother." Bernard said as the wolves scattered each heading back to their tents to get ready. "With only a few words, you roused everyone to the fight. Though, maybe for different reasons." Bernard narrowed his eye.
Arn looked down at his hand and let out a dry laugh. "I just want what was taken from me back. I don't care how many lives it costs." And he clenched that hand tightly, growling down at it.
"To think," Bernard laughed now, shaking his head. "That the war would resume from a single soul. A soul that doesn't even belong to the Frozen North." And the wolf looked up at the sky. "A man sent here on a peace mission, just started a war." Bernard smiled at the irony of it all.
"I don't care." Arn just said finally standing up. He was taller than his brother, with a larger upper body. "I got to get ready." And the wolf made his way to his tent at the far side of camp. Injured or not, Arn wasn't about to sit this one out.
"Funny," Bernard mused as Maitio, his shadow, came up to his side. "It's just how the first Great War started."
"Excuse me?" The wolf asked, looking up at him and blinking a few times with a dimwitted look.
"Nothing." Bernard laughed, waving it off. "Just a fairy tale that's long since been forgotten. Send word," he commanded as he made his way back to his own tent to get ready. "Tell the other packs about this. We move at nightfall. They won't know what hit them until it's over..."
"With pleasure," Maitio stuck his tongue out, laughing madly as he made his way back to his own tent to collect the ravens he kept. Planning to use the black feathered creatures to carry news of what was to come.
That the snow would be stained red this night.
Duran woke in a fit of coughs; freezing cold water had been thrown in his face, for the third time, snapping him awake with a jolt. The polecat shuddered, pulling the chains that bound his arms up above his head. A matching set were locked around his legs. Duran closed his eyes as the darkness was soon broken as the only door to this underground cell opened.
Then it closed and darkness washed over them. All they could hear was the ragged breaths of the shivering polecat.
"Finally awake I see?" Braum chuckled having come in to the cell.
There was a splash as more water was thrown on the polecat. Duran gasped loudly, the water stinging his face and naked body like tiny daggers being shoved into his skin. The polecat had to clench his jaw from whimpering in pain. He wouldn't let these Ursa see him weak if he could help it.
"No need to be so cruel, to our guest." And the polar bear laughed some more. Duran was getting really tired of that sound.
"Tell me," Duran asked, still fighting to catch his breath. "What was it you poisoned me with?"
"Nocturnal's Kiss, the venom from some of the local insects." Braum answered with a smile. "Only a few drops, of course. Couldn't have you dieing on me."
"How many... drops?" Duran asked, not closing his eyes. The darkness of the room seemed to have the same result. Twisted images, monstrous figures and horrifying things Duran would have long since wished to forget; all these things kept flashing in front of his eyes. No wonder why they called it a Nightmare venom.
"A couple. I was afraid something of your... frail body, wouldn't last with more than that." Braum said this with great amusement. He excused the guard who left shortly after. Duran winced as the door was open and blinding light hit him once more, before being washed away in the darkness that followed.
"Heh," Duran coughed once more. "Maybe I should thank you for that?"
"Oh?"
"It's been a while since I last dreamed of anything." Duran whispered a bit, his head was bowed forward and the only thing keeping him from falling forward were the chains binding his wrists. "These cuffs," Duran looked over even in the darkness. "These were made for those of the valley... Not wolves. Not bears, but-,"
"Correct." Braum nodded at that, glad the polecat was catching on so quickly. Most people would still be out of it from being poisoned. Braum figured he should've used more. It had been enough to knock out even an Ursa though. "The Valley has lived in prosperity for far too long."
"We had always offered our share to the outer nations." Duran growled at him. It had been the whole reason why he had gone on this peace treaty to begin with.
Braum ignored him and continued. "It's about time that someone else had such wealth for once."
"And?" Duran asked, still glaring at where he figured the bear was.
"And what?" Braum growled back.
"That can't possibly be the only reason for doing this." Duran coughed a bit more. "Just seeking the natural riches of the Valley? It seems a little, empty. Don't you think?" And he laughed a bit.
His laugh was cut off as a hand gripped his throat, tightly. Cutting off his airway and choking the polecat, lifting him up off the ground and shoved back against the stone wall.
"I've always hated your kind," Braum snarled now. Close enough for Duran to feel the polar bears breath wash over his face. "Cocky little bastards. So small, so weak and just so pathetic... And yet you feel so entitled to that land? As if it somehow owes you something!"
Duran was released and Braum turned away, walking several steps.
"Famine. Death. Disease. War." The bear spoke in no more than a whisper. In the silence Duran could easily hear him. "Such things have always plagued my people. And we get no help! No aide! Forgotten and abandoned in the North. In this... this... wasteland!" Braum turned back towards him, moving quickly for someone his size and pushing Duran back against the wall roughly. "I hate it," he whisper against the side of Duran's face.
The polecat turned his muzzle away, closing his eyes.
"This place." Braum continued in that harsh voice. "This cold, dead place. Where even the trees wilt and die. I hate it so much. There is nothing here but the empty white. And on the coast?" The bear laughed. "A whole lot of nothing! Nothing at all! And he," the bear cursed turning away. "He wants us to stay here? To die for this pathetic, empty land? What a fool."
Duran took a few more breaths, making sure his windpipe hadn't been crushed. "You still can..." He somehow manged to cough out. "You can come as a Emissary to my people, to our Valley. You don't have to stay in this place. You can reside in the Valley and still help your people..." Duran winced a bit. His throat felt like someone had shoved broken glass into it.
Braum stopped at that, eyes widening in the darkness as the bear dreamt of it.
"The warm wind. The muddy shores. The green forest. As much food and ale as you can drink." Duran continued to say, trying to tempt him.
The polar bear reached out a hand in the darkness as if he could see it, the succulent fruit. Before his fingers could pluck it, he stopped and turned back to the polecat.
"You're right. I will have it. Have it all," Braum grinned as he finally lit a candle and brought it so close to Duran's face, the polecat could smell his whiskers burning on the fire. "After I rip every last shred of information you have about it out of your hide!"
Duran shuddered, shaking noticeably as he finally saw the small table set up next to him. Rusty curved blades, sharp scalpels, pliers and other metal tools of torture. All so close he could actually move his tail to touch them if he chose to.
"First," Braum snagged a knife. "A little history lesson, shall we? The Northern wall was built by the Earth clan, correct?"
Duran moved his leg, testing the length of the chain on it. "Correct. The badgers and moles made the wall out of a granite stone that's found only within the Valley. I am not sure how they are able to mold it so easily, but it is stronger than steel and can survive even against a fire storm." Duran spoke slowly, drawing out each word to buy even seconds more of time.
"Excellent. See, we might not even need these." Braum gestured to the table, looking sad that he might not be able to use them. "Now then, why were you with the wolves?"
Duran stopped at that, not saying anything.
"Don't give me that. I can still smell their stench on you," Braum wrinkled his nose pulling back. "It's impossible not to notice."
"I was a slave," Duran began. He snarled as Braum cut his arm with a swift stroke of the knife. Blood gleaned in the candle light.
"Don't lie to me, boy. We still got all night and you don't have enough blood too." Braum chuckled and his face twisted. The dagger dropped from his fingers as he took a step back. "The Ten Gods," he cursed, eyes growing wide as he looked at the cut on Duran's arm. At the blood dripping down to his wrist.
Duran didn't comment on it as he looked to the side.
"You're blood..." Braum looked up at him in horror. "It's black!"
"Sh," Duran whispered now. A smile twisting up on his face. "It's a secret. You're not suppose to tell anyone." And the polecat just cackled like a madman as the bear quickly left the room, slamming and locking the door shut.
"No one is to open this door!" Braum shouted at the guard. "Cursed." Braum looked down at his hand; they were shaking. He was actually afraid. "The cursed clan. I didn't... who would've... By the Ten." And the bear quickly headed off to wash his hands and body clean.
Duran laughed a bit now, moving his tail over to touch the table. He curled it around one of the scalpel and brought it over to his hand. "Superstitious fool." The polecat did laugh, though somehow it was hollow and empty. As if he himself didn't believe it.
"Bah!" Duran bit his lip as he accidentally cut himself with the blade. It was razor sharp. "This would be so much easier... if I could actually see anything." The wound stung. "Calm down, Duran." He muttered to himself, taking a slow even breath. His wet fur made him shiver once more. "Focus. Concentrate." And he continued working as the war horns outside began to blow.
The polecat ears jumped up at that.
Duran cursed. "How quickly can the wolves mobilize?" He thought. "How long have I been out for?" He only cursed once more, having to speed up his work as the whole Ursa garrison became alive like an angry hornets nest.
There was another sound of a massive warhorn being blown. A horn that had been mounted up on the wall. The ground shook, even within Duran's cell, as bodies began to march above.
And the frightening sound of howls could be heard. Even for a second, Duran thought that everyone outside stopped at that. It was one thing to dream of battle, to participate in it was another. The fear, the adrenaline, the rush that at any second you could die? The veteran Ursa would be accustomed to it but the newbies Duran had seen amongst the ranks wouldn't.
Even before the polecat got the first shackle off, the assault begun.
Night had already fallen before Duran had even awakened. The only light came from the low burning torches that filled the camp and the central fire still burning. And though the Ursa could hear the wolves, they couldn't see anything within the deep shadows that had set over the forest. Scouts and sentries were posted, lookouts, waiting for a single sign of the enemy.
And while the Ursa couldn't see within the darkness outside the light of the torches, the wolves got a clear view of them.
Black tipped arrows were loosed and each one met their mark. Picking off the all too visible sentries. Even before the other Ursa could be alerted there was a mighty snap and the whole garrison shook as an arbalist bolt hit the wall. Another two were fired as the wolves moved in.
Using each one of these bolts as a steps, several wolves began making their way up onto the wall even as the Ursa finally managed to call out their location. Only for the other side of the camp to receive the same treatment. Four separate packs, each led by their own Alpha, attacked from different sides.
The four packs set on the camp like a a wounded, stray gazelle. The camp was in disarray as another volley of arrows plummeted from the sky like hissing snakes, biting with deadly accuracy into any foolish to be beneath them. The black arrows were nigh impossible to see until they hit their mark. Sticking up from the bloody corpses of fallen Ursa, like the dead trees of the forest around them.
War cries were sounded as the wolves made it up and over the wall and steel met steel as one force hit the other. Teeth, claws and fur flew as the wolves set on the polar bears from their own ramparts. Bodies smashing against each other, blood splattering the ground and more cries were given.
Utter chaos broke out amongst the whole garrison.
"To arms, damnation! To arms!" Braum called as he attached one of his metal bladed gauntlets. Spinning around and puncturing all three claws of it into the side of a pouncing wolf and taking him down with another single hit.
An arrow was loosed but bounced harmlessly off one of Braum's shoulder guards. The Ursa picked up the wolf's fallen blade, and with all his might chucked it at the archer on the ramparts. The sword spun several times before connecting with the wolf and knocking them back and off the wall.
While the Ursa clan kept their commander back, leading the troops from behind. The wolves Alpha's were on the front lines. Each leading their pack up front. Bernard was on the wall with his, taking down any Ursa who drew close enough for his spear to reach. Arn only made his way up after the rest of his pack did.
"Do you see him?" Arn snarled looking over the fight with sharp eyes, trying to find any sign of the polecat. "I can smell him, nothing more..."
"They'll have holding cells," Bernard gestured to one of the sides. "They always do." Bernard muttered the last part more to himself, recalling the last war between the Lupine and Ursa clans. The Ursa always did love keeping their prisoners close enough to play with.
Arn was already moving towards the location. Bernard whispered to a few wolves, to Maitio his shadow and to Bella. All ordering them to accompany and watch Arn's back as his "stupid brother" made his way to the holding cells alone.
Maitio laughed some more, cackling madly as he jumped up on one of the large over hanging support rods for the wall. Taking position with his crossbow and picking down any that even looked over at Arn.
Bella and two other wolves were in hot pursuit behind the great silver wolf. She swung her axe with a laugh of her own, hitting mark and with the force of the blow sending the Ursa to his knees. Without a head...
Within the holding cell, Duran was working on the last shackle. They were rusty old things, most likely used in the last Great War involving the valley. They hadn't been cared for and Duran actually managed to break the third shackle free. The last one was holding on, despite his efforts of clawing at it.
The sound of war only grew louder as the fighting drew closer.
Until finally there was a loud thump against the door as an Ursa was thrown against it. The wood splintered but held. The iron began to bend as there was another blow, the same Ursa on the other side having his face bashed against the door.
Duran stopped working on the last shackle and grabbed the knife Braum had dropped. He spun the blade around, using his arm to keep it hidden as he faced the door. In a fair fight he'd have trouble fighting a wolf or an Ursa. Shackled as he was, he'd have little chance. The only hope was a sneak attack with the hidden knife.
Finally the door was broken open, the Ursa was tossed aside and the whole thing was ripped off the ground and tossed to the side. Light poured into the cell and Duran shielded his eyes.
"Come to finish me off?" Duran mocked, tightening his grip on the knife.
He didn't get a reply, as the wolf walked into the room on all fours. Arn's ear fell back as he saw Duran. Naked, bruised, cut and bloody. Soaking wet and shivering, still shackled to the wall.
Duran finally saw who it was, and his face fell. His mind went into overdrive as he let the knife go and clatter to the ground. He shivered, holding himself now. "I'm sorry, Lord Arn." He spoke without meeting the wolf's eyes. "I've soiled the fur you loved so much," the polecat spoke referencing to his once immaculate fur.
If the wolf pitied him, thought him as miserable wreck maybe then Arn would over look being captured. Duran never thought for a second that Arn would walk over to him and give him a strong hug, holding his smaller shivering body against his own.
"I'm sorry," Arn tightened his grip around the small body. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."
Duran took a second on thought. He thought the wolf would be angry, that he'd be punished or something. He wasn't sure. Maybe it was the Nightmare venom still coursing through his blood. But he hadn't been happy to see Arn. He had been afraid of the wolf. As if Arn had finally come to finish him off.
So Duran clutched Arn's chest tightly, shedding more tears as he held the wolf that had come to save him. Never having thought he actually would.
"Your arm," Arn said looking down at the cut.
"It's not what it looks like." Duran protested, trying to pull back now and away from the wolf. Arn didn't let him go, just inspected the black blood. Arn just licked it clean. Then the wolf took off one of his own bandages and wrapped Duran's wounds.
"There," Arn whispered down to him. "That should hold until we get you back to camp."
The wolf had to have seen Duran's accursed black blood. Arn wasn't afraid, wasn't angry, hadn't gotten violent over it. Only tended to the wounds. And Duran wept against his chest as the wolves outside cleaned up the camp.
Braum was one of the few Ursa who had lasted until the end. The bear had been in his fair share of fights and knew when to cut their loss. He and a small detachment escaped into the night. But the wolves pursued him mercilessly. They weren't called the Tundra Hunters for nothing.
Bernard stopped only a few feet from the Ursa captain, calling him out. "Running while your men die? A coward such as you aren't fit to rule!"
"Coward?" Braum laughed at that, spinning around and brandishing both of his clawed gauntlets. "Only a fool stays to fight a losing battle!"
And arrow hissed like a serpent through the air at the Ursa. Braum swiped with one of his mighty claws and the arrow shattered into a hundred pieces.
Bernard closed the distance quickly, spinning his spear around and bring it up, tracing the ground at his side and swiping at the Ursa's face. Braum managed to pull his head back in time as one of the three tips of the spear grazed his cheek. Bernard thrusted the spear upwards, forward and passed Braum's face with the same motion. Then brought the heavy shaft of the weapon down on the polar bears shoulders, spinning it around so the hooks snagged the cloak and fur of the Ursa. Catching his prey, Bernard gripped the weapon with both hands and tugged it forward. Forcing Braum to come along with it.
Bernard brought his knee up to meet the polar bear's face. Braum caught on, using his hand to grab hold of the wolf's shoulder and keeping his distance. Braum turned his other arm, bringing it close before punching out at the wolf's gut with it.
Bernard had to retreat at that, those claws sparkling with blood. And as Bernard jumped back he took his spear with him.
"Coward," Braum mocked, laughing at him. Then the Ursa looked at his shoulder, where the spear had hit him. Those hooks had remained, sticking in his cloak and even in his own hide. Thin, nearly invisible wires connected each one of those hooks to Bernard's spear. And the wolf distance himself even more until those strings tightened.
"Not exactly," Bernard snidely replied twisting his spear with both hand and began winding it back, like a fishing pole. Tugging the Ursa forward. Braum took a step, bracing his paws into the snowy ground to hold his feet. "Looks like I caught a big one."
"Bastard," Braum undid his cloak. Jumping forward as it came undone, charing forward quickly with both fists up like a boxer. The polar was quick on his feet and unleashed several devastating blows, each quickly following the last.
Bernard countered, blocking most of the bunches with his spear turning it on it's side and using the heavy wooden pole of it as a shield. The wood splintered, one part breaking and a few of the polar bears attack got through; hitting Bernard on the shoulder, arm and side.
The wolf swung his spear as if casting a fishing line, swiping down with it at Braum's other shoulder. The polar bear stepped back but felt a sharp tug on his right side, where the hooks still embedded into his hide. That second of hesitation cost Braum is other shoulder, the rest of the hooks snagging onto the polar bears thick hide.
Bernard moved back, holding the spear with both hands as he pulled on it, as if reeling in a massive fish from the ocean. "It's over," the wolf just said.
"Like hell!" Braum shouted. Being pulled forward, having to use his full weight to keep himself from being pulled... Braum had little defense against the two wolves that flanked him.
Blood was spilled as twin fangs ripped into the polar bears sides.
The Ursa cough blood as he stared at Bernard. "Coward," he muttered the word spitefully. "Having to rely... on... others..." Braum managed to curse.
"A pack always relies on each other," Bernard just answered, lowering his spear head back down to put it on Braum's chest. "That is why we'll never lose." And with that, Bernard gutted Braum like a fish.
The other two Ursa didn't even manage to get ten feet away before archers picked them off. Each of the archers were carrying heavy ballista styled crossbows, massive weaponry that no ordinary person could carry.
Arn dressed Duran in what he himself had been wearing, breaking the last chain free (unable to get the shackle itself off) and helped Duran out; only after drying the polecat's fur.
Arn crouched behind Duran, who had taken a seat outside the cell. The wolf let his cloak drape over Duran's front and side, sheltering him from both the elements and the eyes of the other wolves.
"What now?" Was all Duran asked Arn. The wolf didn't reply, not having an answer for him. All the wolf did was stand above him and keep watch as the stragglers of the camps were picked off and finally... Silence fell over the world.