BTWD - These Demons of Ours

'The Northern Wastes of Dunia have been home to the Ermehn tribes for nearly one-hundred years. The barren plains, mountains and creeks are all they possess, alongside whatever semblance of honour and dignity the Canid generals permit them to have. Internal conflict plagues most tribes, led by individuals hungry for power and influence. Most perish following their own schemes and agendas whilst those who prove too successful are squashed without hesitation by their [[Canid overseers->Canid Overseers]].

These enforcers of Aisling's and King Janus' law are brutal and unkind to the suffering of the Ermehn. In times past, these generals may have attempted to hide their acts behind the thick drapes of morality and necessity. Now, however, these generals fear not for repercussion or public image. They dangle thin veils before their cruelty, carrying out their own bloodied law without second thought. The plight of the Ermehn has no effect or mark on their conscience. After years of evaluation and observation, I believe these generals to be nothing but megalomaniacs that possess wicked hearts and an obsession with harassing the Ermehn far beyond necessity or sanity. For official reasons, let it be known that these views are mine and are not shared by any other [[Scholars of Gair or Kishar's political officials->Scholars of Gair]].

But let it also be known that for as long as these tribes go without aid and are left to their own devices, their race withers. Many of those I have discussed this crisis with predict that they shall not last long. Some even believe that, before a decade passes from now, the Northern Wastes shall become the final resting place of all Ermehn kind. The abominal cruelty, brutality and severity of Aisling's finest knows no limits. Soon, once the Ermehn are stamped out, I believe all of Dunia shall see to what extent such [[evil can take hold->Evil]]'. -Scholar Julian Ordanu, //The Evils of Indifference and Compliance//

Consuming darkness. Metallic tang of blood. Wet fur. Clinging, sodden uniform. Pulsating pain. Aching limbs. [[The sound of endless rainfall->Rainfall]].

With a groan, Hector Thornvallis opened his eyes. Above him resided dark skies, black clouds unleashing their bombardments on the plains below. The splashing of droplets into his eyes forced Hector to clamp them shut again, turning his head away and raising an arm to shield his face. "What the...where..." He attempted to push himself up into a sitting position with his free arm but, as he moved, his head throbbed. Surrendering to the pain, he swore under his breath and rolled onto his side. He clamped one paw over the side of his head and grunted, left helpless on the ground whilst the rain battered him. He had no idea where he was. "My head...what..." Easing his paw against the side of his head, he winced as he searched for the source of the pain. Several seconds passed where no discovery was made, trying to locate the wound that disoriented him so. As his paw grazed the top of his head between his ears, he felt an intense stabbing pain. He yanked his paw away, swearing again. A gash. It felt like such a wound, anyway. Whatever blood matted the fur around it, the rain had soon taken care of. Despite the annoying pain, he relaxed knowing that such an injury wasn't too serious. If it had been, he probably wouldn't have awoken to realise it in the first place. [[He tried to remember what happened->Remember]].

A few seconds of blank bewilderment passed by. The storm raged and Hector lay there, trying to blink his way back to recollection. Then, as he rolled over and pushed himself up onto all-fours, he remembered. The screams of an ambush came back to him. The sight of the Canid in front catching three arrows in his chest returned. The flurry of blood and steel that followed reacquainted itself, punctuated by despaired yells and pained cries. He remembered feeling his sword snag on his belt, leaving him vulnerable and panicked. He remembered seeing an ambusher charge him with a club, crying out as they brought it down on his head. He remembered the darkness that followed. With all returning to him in a rush of information, [[the chestnut-furred Canid ignored the pain of his wound and stood->Stand]].

Hector, panting, took in his surroundings. The soldier stood on a bank of a fast-running river, water shooting between the numerous rocks embedded in its path on its journey to Lake Felnach. He grimaced as he looked down to find mud clinging to his back and sides, tarnishing his cape and army uniform. Dirt caused the fur of his hind paws to knot and twist, forming an impermeable forest. In disgust, he wiped away the small patch that had managed to leap onto the left side of his neck, feeling the grime and grit that remained. He turned away from the river. The gradual slope of the bank continued forward for a few metres, reaching the soaked grassland that encroached on the bank's territory. Foliage and shrubbery met his gaze, forming a wall of greenery that partially obstructed his view from what was beyond. Through a break in the wall of foliage, he caught a glimpse of the scene beyond. His eyes widened. His mouth hung agape. His body tensed. There, he saw the bloodied aftermath of the ambush. Nine Canid soldiers lay dead in the dirt, some face-down whilst others lay with vacant eyes staring up at the sky. All had been stripped of their satchels and bags, seized by the attackers. Most had met their end via sharpened arrowhead, protruding from their chests and faces. Those that had survived the initial attack were rewarded with ruthless steel blades and hardened clubs, armour and flesh slashed away. The closest corpse lay inside a bush. The light-furred Canid had died sword in paw, an arrow protruding from her chest and a look of pained surprise on her face. She had perished metres from the ambush, only a step away from arriving on the river's bank. He recognised her immediately. //Vyra//. He hobbled over to her, kneeling by her side. Mouth agape and eyes wide, he could only sit in silence as the reality of her death sank in. She had dragged him away from the battle to the safety of the bank, hidden from sight, only to die. His eyes began to sting. "Not you, Vyra. N-Not you." He placed a paw on her shoulder and jostled her, trying to defy reality. Ears folded down, he watched as her corpse lay still and stiff. "V-Vyra...please. Wake up." In the seconds that followed, he came to the conclusion that Vyra was long gone. And, now, [[he was the last survivor->Survivor]].

Countless years of intensive training had not prepared him for this. Hector began to hyperventilate. He trembled. His heart thundered. His eyes shifted from corpse to corpse, seeing the gruesome wounds that had claimed the lives of those he had been talking to not long ago. //I need to get out of here...I need to go//. But, deep down, he knew this plan would not last. He could follow the route back South towards the border but he had no supplies. None were left to take from his deceased allies. If he tried to return to Deltrada, he would starve. And, if he managed to somehow survive without food, he would most likely stumble into an Ermehn patrol and be slaughtered. He was trapped whilst wounded, alone and without food. //Okay, stay calm...stay calm. I can do this, I-I can...do something//. He steeled himself. If he wanted to survive the ordeal, he needed to think. He was a Canid soldier - the best Dunia and Aisling had to offer. If he had survived the initial conflict, then luck had to be on his side. He could make it out alive. He reached for his saviour's sword. Vyra's lifeless eyes looked up into his as he pulled it from her loose paw. "I'm so sorry, Vyra. I'm so sorry. I won't let this be in vain." From the relenting gusts of terror, fiery anger began to burn. He felt himself snarl. These Ermehn scum had attacked them whilst on a mission to merely scout the area, to report back on the situation in the Northern Wastes to their generals. They had never imposed. They had never threatened them. "If I see them, I'll make them pay. I will. I don't care how many I have to kill. I'll avenge you." As if on cue, he heard [[chatter coming from his right->Incoming]].

His long ears stood upright, twitching. Two voices approached from the right, hidden by the foliage. Hector ducked away from the corpse of his saviour and down behind a bush, peering out between branches. He watched the aftermath with keen eyes, scanning left and right for any sign of the attackers. Seconds later, he saw them. A trio of Ermehn soldiers walked into the aftermath, chatting amongst themselves. All three wore green sacks over their heads, holes cut out for the eyes and ears, and donned tartan kilts over their lower bodies. Tribal tattoos adorned them, all of which were the same across the first two ambushers and different for the third. There were less of them in comparison to the others, indicating a possible lack of experience or merit. The first approached the corpses with a spring in their step and a bow slung over their shoulder, almost delighted by the sight of dead Canid. Hector gripped his sword hard. The second was less jovial, gripping their longsword as they stepped over the bodies and scanned the surroundings. They were disinterested in the scene before them, as if it was a sight they had become acquainted with long ago. The third, however, lacked the confidence of their predecessors. They trembled with every step, head snapping left and right. Hector could see wide eyes peering out from the holes in their mask. Paranoia cowered behind their gaze. "Check for anything we missed." The second said, kneeling by a corpse. "We didn't miss anything," The first said. "He's just being safe." "You're way too relaxed for this." "Why? These Canid didn't stand a chance. One arrow, one kill. Simple enough, right?" "Just focus on the job. I don't want to be out in this rain any longer than I have to be." The first shook their head and focused on their paranoid counterpart. "Ease up, Novi. You've got nothing to worry about." Novi jumped and turned, startled. "O-Oh, uh...okay, yeah. Sorry, sir." "Did we have to bring him along?" The second sighed. "Chief's orders, not mine," The first said. "He doesn't want him being cooped up with his mother all the time. Rightfully so. It's about time you started working with us, Novi." "Y-Yes, sir." Hector watched as the second assailant knelt by a corpse, reached for their pockets, but froze whilst facing Hector. Seconds passed. The first assailant noticed this, narrowing their eyes. "What are you doing?" The second turned around, sword drawn and aimed at a nearby corpse. The Canid lay sprawled out on their back, an arrow embedded in their chest. Hector focused on the soldier and saw that [[their face was twitching-> Soldier]].

Hector was careful to not rustle the leaves as he eased forward for a better look. The soldier was indeed still breathing, face contorted in pain, but knew they had been discovered. He recognised them. The golden coat of fur, the hardened and weathered face, the small ears and long snout. It was Moltreig. He lay there sprawled half-dead in the mud. The veteran stared up at the Ermehn, maintaining their resolve despite standing directly before death's door. Hector didn't want to imagine how long he had been alive like that for. "Well, look at that." The first said, kneeling with his back to Hector. "A survivor. You thought you could hide from us, buddy?" "You kidding?" Moltreig rasped. "I wouldn't...hide from a pathetic excuse for a warrior...like you." "You've got some real guts talking like that. But I think you're forgetting something." The first Ermehn flicked the arrow in Moltreig's chest. He grunted and tensed, baring his fangs and clamping his eyes shut, but didn't yell in pain. The second Ermehn eased the first away and knelt. "You brought this on yourselves. You marched into our land. We've made it clear for your generals enough times already - we don't like your kind here." "And we don't like your kind anywhere else..." Moltreig growled. "Not in Sunsgrove. Not in Navran. Not in Aisling. Not in Kishar. Not even the //Polcan// like you. So...just be happy we even let you have this land...and didn't just kill you all." The first Ermehn whistled. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. You don't usually find these on someone who's about to die." "I know I'm going to die...but that's fine. Because I know you two won't be too far behind." The first Ermehn laughed at the threat, looking up at Novi. They stood there, trembling, wide eyes focused on Moltreig. "Hey, Novi. It's your time to shine." Novi recoiled. "Um...n-no. I don't want to." "Come on." The first Ermehn said, standing and putting an arm around him. "This is your first time out working for the tribe, right? Imagine what the Chief will say if you bring back a Canid's head, huh? If you secure your first kill?" "Uh, I-" The first Ermehn drew a dagger and placed it in Novi's paw, gesturing to the dying soldier. "Go on, then. He's right there. He can't even fight back." "But-" They pushed Novi forwards. Hector watched them stumble, glancing back at the first Ermehn, before focusing on their first kill. Moltreig grunted, shaking his head. "What a coward. Can't even kill me yourself...can you?" "You talk a lot, Canid. When Novi puts this dagger in you, all of Dunia will be thankful that we shut you up for good." Hector saw the situation before him. His paw tensed around the grip of his sword, realising that he had to make a choice. Moltreig was in danger. Hector needed to intervene. He could [[sneak forwards and attack the ambushers while unaware->Sneak Attack]]. Fighting against three armed combatants wasn't optimal but he had the element of surprise on his side. The first ambusher would be down before the other two realised. Besides, he was stronger than them. His chances were still decent. [[He could howl for help->Howl]]. It would compromise him, sure, but he remembered what his training officer had told him - the sound of a howling Canid was enough to send any Ermehn running for the hills and have any nearby allies hurrying his way. Hector knew he was too far away from the border for any other Canid to hear him but he still knew a howl would frighten the ambushers. He could grab Moltreig whilst they fled and drag him to safety.

With their backs all turned, Hector eased his way out of the bushes and stole forwards with sword at the ready. He gripped it repeatedly in his paw, reassuring himself that no mere Ermehn trio could best him. He trained his eyes on each of the trio, shifting from one to the next. Novi stood over the soldier, dagger held in paw. "What are you waiting for?" The first Ermehn said. "He's right there. Finish him." "I-I can't. Please, I don't want to do this." "If we want to survive, you have to do this." "But-" "What if your mother was in danger from one of these monsters, huh? What if they were going to kill her and take her head back to Deltrada? Would you hesitate then?" Novi hesitated. "N-No, but that's different." "It's not different at all. You're making Dunia a better place either way. Now shut up and kill him." As Novi turned around and made eye contact with his first victim, Hector arrived directly behind the first Ermehn. Unlike the young ambusher, he didn't hesitate. Snarling, he thrust his sword through the first Ermehn's back. With nothing but a leather strap crossing their torso, the blade cut right through and embedded itself in between his shoulder blades. They screamed and fell to their knees, trying to reach behind them to the point of entry. The other two whirled around, eyes wide. "Hey!" The second yelled. "What the-" Hector ripped the sword back out and slashed, turning. The blade swiped across the second Ermehn's throat with ease, drawing blood and slashing away the mask. Wide-eyed, the second ambusher dropped their sword and fell to their knees with paws clamped over their throat. They struggled against death, gargling and choking, before slumping down onto their side and falling still. Rage prevailing, he turned his sights on Novi. The young ambusher screamed and retreated a step, tripping over a corpse and collapsing onto his back. The dagger fell from his paw, landing out of reach. "No, wait! Wait, please don't hurt me! Please!" "Come here, you little runt." Hector grabbed the top of Novi's head and pulled away the sack, revealing the youthful face, terrified eyes and fragile frame of an Ermehn that couldn't have been older than sixteen years. He then yanked them up onto their hind paws by the shoulder and pulled them in, bringing his sword up. "You killed my comrades," Hector growled. "You killed them all." "It wasn't me!" Novi begged, tears flowing. "Please, it wasn't me!" "But you helped them, didn't you? Didn't you?" "I didn't, I didn't! "You Ermehn are nothing but filthy liars and murderous monsters. I don't believe a word you say and I have the right mind to //gut// you where you stand!" "Please!" "Don't lie to me! You helped kill Vyra, you //monster//!" "P-Please don't kill me, please! I don't want to die! I don't want to die, I beg you! //Please//!" The anguished wailing of the young ambusher summoned something in Hector's gut. As he watched Novi plead and beg for his life, a newfound feeling bloomed. Was it a [[greater vengeful rage->Kill Novi]] taking root? Or was it [[merciful sympathy->Spare Novi]]?

Hector threw back his head and howled. The sound pierced through the storm, echoing across the Northern Wastes. The three Ermehn jumped and whirled around, paws fumbling for their weapons. Novi dropped the dagger and scrambled to scoop it back up, falling to his knees. The second raised his sword and scanned the bushes, failing to find the source. The same couldn't be said for the first, however. Hector saw the first ambusher raise his bow directly at him. "They're there, in that bush!" He could only gasp as the Ermehn fired right at him. "Gah!" Pain erupted from his left side as the arrow tore into him, passing through the armour and entering flesh. He yelled out and fell forwards from the bush, landing in the mud on his side. Blood began to pour, mingling with the dirt that caked him. He tried to stand, pushing himself up onto all-fours, but the agony of the arrow prevented him from progressing. "Look what we have here!" The first Ermehn laughed, snatching the dagger from Novi as he approached. "Another Canid with a death wish." "We need to get out of here." The second Ermehn said. "More Canid might be on their way." "Let me pay my respects, first. Then Novi can get his kill and then we'll go." Hector could only manage a growl as the first Ermehn kicked them over onto his back, sprawled out in the mud. Pain immobilised him. He blinked away tears, grunting and groaning. The first Ermehn raised their dagger. "You Canid never learn, do you?" With a cackle, [[they brought the dagger down on Hector's heart->Perished 1]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter-> Soldier]]

Unbridled rage consumed Hector as he stared into the young Ermehn's face. All he saw there was the face of a murderer - of the very scum his superiors had warned him of. They had helped kill Vyra. They had helped kill everyone. They were responsible. With that conclusive thought, Hector snarled and raised his sword. "No, wait! Please-" Hector slit his throat. Blood poured from the gash his blade left there, sending Novi into an uncontrollable sequence of gargles and grunts. Hector pushed him back and watched the young Ermehn stumble, unable to balance himself. He crashed down into the mud, paws clamped over his throat. He kicked and writhed, eyes bulging from his head and paws stained crimson. "N-No...p-please...I-I don't..." He choked on his own blood. "...want to...want to..." Novi's arms relaxed, falling away from his throat and resting by his sides. His legs stopped kicking. His body stopped writhing. Novi, too weak, stopped resisting. The young Ermehn looked to the sky and, with the last of his life, managed one final word. "Moth...er..." With a trembling exhale, [[Novi fell silent and stopped struggling->Moltreig]].

Rage soon died inside Hector. The flaming embers of vengeance perished at the sight of Novi, a young Ermehn that wanted nothing more than to live and be reunited with his mother. Hector shoved him back. Novi stumbled but regained balance, grimacing in anticipation. "Get out of here." The Ermehn hesitated, panting. "I said //get out of here//. Scram and don't make me regret sparing you because, if I see you again, I'll kill you." Novi watched as Hector sheathed his sword. He shifted his gaze from the sheathed blade to the merciful Canid, almost challenging the reality of what had happened, before nodding. Turning, he fled as fast as he could into the wastes. Hector watched, tracking his figure as he grew smaller and smaller, before kneeling by Moltreig. "You showed them, Hector..." He wheezed. "And thank you...for not killing that young one. He's just an idiot. He didn't...need to die." "How do I help you, Moltreig? Do I pull out the arrow?" "No, no...leave me. I'm dead anyway...there's no saving me." "But-" Moltreig placed a paw on his shoulder. "Listen to me. They got the lieutenant." Hector's ears stood. "Volhim?" "Yes, they...they dragged the idiot away during the ambush. He's still alive. You need...to get him back to Deltrada." "Where did they take him?" "Up the road...towards the hills..." Moltreig pointed further along the road. Hector followed his trembling paw and saw the route ahead, leading up a soft incline and around a rock formation towards the supposed hills. "But you're-" "Dying. I'm not scared. I'm prepared to die for Aisling. But you need to get Volhim back before they kill him or somehow...manage to break him." Moltreig began to rasp, strength waning. Their paw fell from Hector's shoulder, lying back down. "Stay strong...and...determined..." With a labouring gasp, his eyes glazed over and he fell still. Hector's gaze lingered over their face for a moment, scanning it for any signs of life. He found none. Ears folding down and tail curling, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. "I'll get Volhim back. I'll get him back to Deltrada." He glanced back to Vyra. Seeing her corpse summoned an urge to cry, a desire to release the grief he felt for her death. But he held back the tears. In silence, he thanked her for dragging him to the safety of the bank. For sacrificing herself for him. Moments of tranquility passed where, for a time, it sounded like only the endless rain inhabited the Northern Wastes. Looking back to the road, he knew his mission. It was just a matter of how he would achieve it. He could [[follow the road ahead and around the rock formation->Follow Road]], which would be easier to pursue yet increase his chances of an encounter with another patrol or search party. Alternatively, he did see some holds on the rock face that would allow for traversal if he was careful enough. [[If he climbed it->Climb Rock]], he could evade any encounters altogether.

Hector decided to follow the road ahead. He was no Tamian scout, after all. Attempting to traverse the rocks would only lead to him plunging to the ground and his inevitable death. "I'm coming, lieutenant. I'm going to get you out of there." How they would escape once he reunited with the lieutenant, he didn't know. However, he refused to dedicate any second of thought to that issue. He needed to stay calm, focused and strong. He'd deal with the return to Deltrada when the situation revealed itself. Hector looted the two dead Ermehn for extra weaponry. Beyond grubs, tubers and stale bread that verged on inedible, he found nothing of value or use to him. He snatched Novi's discarded dagger and slid it into his belt, stowing it away in case he needed it. He found nothing on his allies. The Ermehn had picked them clean. He was alone with a sword, a dagger, and a mission. That was enough for Hector. Wincing as his gash nagged him, he stole forwards along the road. He remained attentive to his surroundings, stopping every few metres to listen for incoming patrols with strained ears. He kept his sword down by his side, lowered yet ready at a moment's notice to slash away opponents. He arrived around the side of the rock formation, following the road as it curved up the incline and around to the left. He peered around the corner of the rocks to find the road empty up ahead, winding up into the hills. "The camp has to be up there." He couldn't see the telltale signs of a camp existing in the hills ahead but he knew the inclement weather had something to do with that. Any fires would have been immediately doused by the sheets of rain, and any trails to and from the camp would have been washed away. He had to rely on instinct alone. As he advanced up the road, he saw movement from ahead. He stopped, ears standing. A pair of figures approached, all masked. Both carried swords, held loosely in their paws as they patrolled. They were headed right for him. In a few seconds, they'd see him through the rain and darkness. He swore. Part of him regretted not attempting to climb the rock face. Either way, he had to make a move. He could [[dive into the bushes to his right->Hide]] and stow himself away. However, the bushes looked thin. Even with the hostile weather conditions, he'd be seen if they looked hard enough. Two other options introduced themselves. He could [[hurry back down the road and hide in thicker foliage->Retreat]] and then wait for the patrol to walk by. Or, if he dared, he could [[confront->Confront]] the approaching Ermehn. He could easily manage two combatants in one fight. Besides, they had no bows. They didn't have range. Once he was beside them, the battle was his.

Hector sized up the rock formation. It was tall, sure, and a fall would surely lead to, at best, a broken bone or, at worst, death. However, he was alone. He could take one, two, maybe three Ermehn at a time. If he encountered a patrol with any more than that, however, he'd be overwhelmed. And, glancing down the road, he knew following it would yield a greater chance of that happening. He looked back to Vyra's corpse. "I'll get the lieutenant back. I will. I'll make sure your death wasn't in vain." He looked down at Moltreig. "And yours, too." Hector looted the two dead Ermehn for extra weaponry. Beyond grubs, tubers and stale bread that verged on inedible, he found nothing of value or use to him. He snatched Novi's discarded dagger and slid it into his belt, stowing it away in case he needed it. He found nothing on his allies. The Ermehn had picked them clean. He was alone with a sword, a dagger, and a mission. That was enough for Hector. Wincing as his gash nagged, he hurried towards the base of the rock formation. It stood stoic and proud, unmoved by Canid, Ermehn or time. He arrived at its base, stepping over the jagged rocks that resided beneath him, and scanned the face of the rock. He could see numerous ledges that would serve as easy platforms to ascend, all fortunately forming a direct line upwards towards the top. If he was careful and maintained a steady pace, he would scale its face without problem. He hesitated, nervous. His tail flicked anxiously and his ears wilted. His breathing quickened and he shifted from hind paw, unsure of whether to proceed. He'd made his choice. He needed to get to that camp and rescue the lieutenant before it was too late. Hector, accepting that fact, [[began to climb->Ascending]].

With how fast the nearby patrol were closing in, he knew diving into the bushes was his only option. Retreating back down the road was a risk. Confronting them was a whole new level of suicidal. Now matter how many the enemy numbered, he needed to remember he was alone. He couldn't be complacent or risk overconfidence. He hid in the bushes. They were significantly thinner than those he had hidden in back down by the aftermath but he didn't have the time to be picky. For as long as the Ermehn remained distracted, they wouldn't notice him. "Devas has been gone for a while," One said. "You think they're okay?" "Devas is fine. We sent him after a bunch of corpses." The leader answered. "Dead people usually don't put up much of a fight, do they?" "Not really." They approached the bush, only metres away to his right. Hector glanced behind the duo and managed to suppress a sigh of relief as he saw three more patrolling ambushers behind the leading pair, two of which carried bows. Five enemies proved far more lethal than two. "You think Novi will be all right?" "He's been stuck in the cave with his mother all these years. A bit of action will help him grow up a little." "But he's young." "And? My first kill was when I was fourteen." The group murmured in agreement. The second Ermehn of the leading pair sighed. "Sure. The ambush went well." "We slaughtered them, you mean." "Yeah, I guess." "I got a shot in on a runner." One of the trio lurking at the back said. Hector's ears stood. "The one who ran to the bank?" The leader said. "Yeah. They had another Canid with them. They dropped them on the bank and turned but then I shot them." The group murmured in congratulations. Hector gripped his sword harder and felt a snarl begin to rise from him, glaring at the archer that had boasted the kill. [[The urge to lunge for him was overpowering->Attack]]. Then again, there were five of them. It was probably best to [[let them pass->Wait]], regardless of how much he loathed them.

Hector turned and rushed back down the road, staying low to not draw attention to himself. Confrontation would seal his fate - no matter how well he believed he would fare against two Ermehn, he couldn't let overconfidence lead him to taking stupid risks. Glancing back at the approaching patrol, he hurried into a bush. It was significantly thicker than the ones further ahead, meaning he was completely concealed from sight. Even someone actively looking for him would find their keen eyes deceived by the shrubbery. He waited, readying his sword in the event of being discovered. He heard the chatter of voices approaching his position, growing louder and louder with every step. "...you got them good, that's for sure." The leader said, complimenting someone behind them. Hector followed their gaze and froze upon realising that confrontation would have sealed his fate. A trio of Ermehn followed behind the leading pair, two of which had bows and arrows. Had he decided to enter combat, he would have found himself dead at their hind paws. "Once that lieutenant finally squeals," The leader continued. "The Chief will have a plan. All we gotta do is wait and relax." "Nothing better than dead Canid, huh?" One joked. "Ain't nothing that can beat it, no." Hector tensed in anticipation as they passed. He waited several seconds, peering out to assure they had all gone, before he snuck out and hurried up the road. Whatever they wanted from the lieutenant, they'd get after soon enough. He had to hurry. "I'm on my way. Just hold on, lieutenant." Hector persevered up the road, [[approaching the Ermehn camp and the captive he was going to rescue->Keep Going]].

Standing tall, Hector had no reason to fear the approaching patrol. He readied his sword and marched towards them. "Hey!" He yelled. The two Ermehn looked away from one another and towards the approaching Canid. They froze, taken aback by the sudden arrival. Hector continued his approach, twirling his sword and snarling. "You're nothing but cowards, you know that? Spineless cowards! Come over here and face me! I can take on both of you without a problem!" One Ermehn steeled himself and stepped forward. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to, Canid? You're all alone out here! This ain't Aisling!" "I don't need any help to kill two of you!" That's when he saw the three other Ermehn guards behind them. The trio stepped out from behind the duo, having been hidden by the storm and darkness alike. Two levelled their bows at his chest, arrows loaded and strings pulled back. Hector realised that he had made the wrong choice. "Shoot him!" The Ermehn patrol leader ordered. Before he could react, one arrow whizzed towards him and embedded itself in his stomach. He screamed, falling to his knees with paws clamped over the wound. He looked down at the arrow with wide eyes, watching as blood began to ooze from where he had been struck. "Not so tough now, are you?" The second archer called, firing. He didn't have a chance to reply. The second arrow struck him in the head, [[killing him instantly->Perished 2]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Follow Road]]

"You monsters!" Hector dove out from the bush with a yell and swung his sword. The unsuspecting archer could only scream as the sword cut into their side, killing them instantly. Their counterparts turned, gasping. Hector had another few seconds to turn and ram his sword through the stomach of the leader, causing them to shriek. However, once that period of shock subsided, he found himself surrounded. "It's a Canid!" All three remaining Ermehn drew their blades and attacked. Hector grunted as he felt the dagger of the remaining archer nestle itself into his ribs, turning and knocking them away with his arm. The second slashed at his face and he yelled out as blood began to pour from his snout, staining his fur. The third finalised their attack with a stab to the stomach. Hector, grunting, fell down onto all-fours. He wheezed and spluttered, body trembling from the pain of the ordeal. One of the Ermehn yanked Hector's sword from his paw, turning it on him. "Nice try, Canid. Nice try." Hector felt agony as the blade shot through his back. After a few seconds, [[he felt nothing at all->Perished 3]].

Hector controlled himself. Getting himself killed would only mean Vyra's death, Moltreig's death and everyone else's death was in vain. He needed to rescue Lieutenant Volhim and escape alive. The patrol wandered past the bush and to the left. As expected, they were too caught up in their own chatter to bother inspecting the bushes. He waited several seconds to create a considerable gap between him and the patrol, watching as they walked on oblivious to his presence. After that, he slipped out from the bush and hurried up the road without looking back. He focused on the hills at the end of the road, certain that the captive lieutenant and whoever this Chief was lay just ahead. "I'm coming, lieutenant. I'm coming." Courage prevailing, [[he advanced further into hostile territory->Keep Going]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Hide]].

Enduring the unrelenting rain, Hector snuck his way up the road and up the hills. He followed a path that cut through the impassable slopes and cliffs, peering around corners with sword at the ready. He scanned every inch of the area ahead of him, often glancing over his shoulder to ensure none were following behind. His ears stood and he looked up. From a cliff edge high to his left, in front of the mouth of a cave, voices floated down. What they were saying was rendered incoherent and indiscernible by the rain, but the fact he could hear people talking was enough to reassure him that he was heading in the right direction. "Okay...just keep following the path." After a few steps, he glanced right. He recoiled, swearing. Ten wooden poles protruded from the muddied slope to his right, some beginning to slouch left and right due to their foundations being weakened by the rain. Hector was not disturbed by the mere idea of mounting heads on spikes. Such a tactic was common practice back at the Deltrada Garrison. What terrified him was the new, almost alien sight of seeing Canid heads staring back at him instead of Ermehn ones. Each pole had a Canid head mounted on top, the face of the deceased contorted and frozen in whatever pain and fear they had felt at the moment of their passing. Some were more rotten than others, flesh eroded and fur knotted, whilst others were significantly fresher. He didn't want to know what pain the deceased had felt in their last moments. "Focus, Hector...keep going." Heeding his own advice, he pressed on and ignored the horrid sight. If he dawdled, he would soon find the lieutenant's head arranged alongside them. And, most likely, Hector would soon accompany them. Not too far from reaching the camp, he peered around the corner. Two Ermehn guards stood ahead, adorned in the same tribal markings, kilts, masks and weaponry. Both conversed, gesturing back to camp in reference to something Hector couldn't decipher. He knew that, if he wanted to enter the camp, he'd have to get these guards out of the way. He glanced left. Peering over the cliff edge of the camp, an Ermehn archer surveyed the distant landscape. They were distracted, lost in their own thoughts, and would probably overlook any sort of minor disturbance near the entrance guards. If Hector [[threw a nearby rock->Distract]], he could easily have the guards avert their attention and sneak on past. A second option was available, however. [[Ambushing the two guards->Ambush]] would be a possibly messy ordeal yet, if successful, he'd have a lot more breathing room and wouldn't be worried about the guards crawling up behind him whilst in camp.

Hector decided against the ambush. He'd win the fight against the guards, without a doubt, but the alarm would soon be raised by the archer and the lieutenant would be killed. An ambush was a foolish choice. Instead, he scooped up a muddied rock from the wet dirt and hurled it to the left of the two guards. It struck the side of the cliff with a clack, bouncing off and disappearing amongst the numerous other rocks scattered across the ground. As Hector expected, both guards whirled around. "What was that?" The right guard said, drawing his sword. "Probably nothing." The left guard said. "We should check it out, right?" "We should?" "Yeah, of course. If something goes wrong, all of the Chief's plans could disappear. All of those great things we said we'd do once we were out of here...poof. Gone." "I guess you ain't wrong. Come on, let's have a look then." Both guards meandered over to the cliff face, swords ready in case they encountered a surprise visitor. Hector had no idea what they were referring to when they talked of leaving. As far as he knew, the border was heavily guarded by Canid outposts and monitored by the impenetrable Deltrada Garrison. Whatever hopes this Chief had, they would be short-lived. Hector glanced back up at the archer and found them still gazing into the distance, not giving any attention to the searching guards. Seizing the opportunity, [[he hurried past the oblivious guards and into the Ermehn camp->The Camp]]

Taking a deep breath, Hector eased himself forwards along the path. He kept low, eyes shifting from guard to guard, sword at the ready. He was closest to the right guard. If he could take them out in one swift motion, the second would be no problem to deal with. "...hopefully something happens." The right guard said. "With this lieutenant here, something will. We'll find a way to get out of this wasteland. There ain't gonna be no more scavenging through nature's scraps, no sir." "Canid are pretty stubborn, though." "They're stubborn but they ain't tough." As Hector raised his sword, the right guard's eyes snapped onto him. "Hey! Canid over here-" Hector lunged and embedded the blade in their chest. The guard perished with a gargle, blood pouring from the gaping wound. He turned, sword raised to slash down the left guard- Pain plumed from his throat as the archer on the cliff edge shot him, embedding an arrow in his gullet. The left guard backed away as Hector dropped his sword and fell to his knees. Out of desperate instinct, he gargled and choked. His paws flew up to his punctured throat, feeling the blood pour out from the wound. His vision darkened at the edges, life fleeting from him. He fell onto his side. He struggled, kicking and writhing, but felt life ebb. No matter how hard he fought, there was no winning this battle. [[Gurgling his last, Hector stopped moving->Perished 4]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Keep Going]]

As Hector snuck into the camp, he saw exactly what conditions the Ermehn people survived under. The camp was a town of threadbare and dilapidated tents, providing minimal protection from the elements for its people. It sat before the open mouth of a cave, extending deep into the shadowy innards of the cliff. Emptied wooden crates and boxes lay strewn across the paths between tents, complimented by whatever parts of their meagre rations had proven too inedible to devour. Hector regarded the litter with a softened gaze. "How can anyone live like this?" He steeled himself. These were the savages that had stuck the heads of his brethren on poles leading up to the camp. They were monsters banished to the wastes for all they had done against the Canid. They deserved this. They had brought this on themselves. Hector eased his way into the camp. It seemed almost abandoned, left that way as many of the inhabitants were out on patrols or helping clean up the remnants of the ambush. He didn't know how much time he had before they discovered the fresh bodies of their allies or until Novi returned to alert their tribe about the Canid survivor. Peering around a tent, he caught a glimpse of what lay in the centre of the camp. A rectangular clearing formed between the tents, metres in diameter. A campfire sat in the middle of it all, long since extinguished to the point where not even vapours rose from the dead embers. None of the few Ermehn patrolling the camp attempted to rekindle the fire, knowing they could not best the rain. He saw what he had came all this way for. A metre or so before the fire, tied to a wooden pole with his arms above his head, knelt Lieutenant Volhim. The Canid lieutenant boasted numerous bruises and swellings from a beating Hector had not been present to witness, leaving him weakened and fragile. Blood dribbled from his nostrils. His top had been removed, leaving him half-naked and exposed to the brutal rain. One Ermehn soldier stood before him, one paw resting on his shoulder whilst the other hovered inches from his face. Mothers turned their young away from the sight, distracting them with tarnished toys and engrossing fables. "You gonna talk, lieutenant?" The Ermehn threatened. "Or I am going to have to beat it out of you?" The dark-furred lieutenant scoffed, shaking his head. "You're making a big mistake. We don't take kindly to-" The Ermehn struck him in the gut. Lieutenant Volhim wheezed, slouching forwards. "We don't take kindly to savages, you-" The Ermehn hit him over the head. Lieutenant Volhim yelped and reeled away from the blow. His confidence and bravado remained intact as he laughed in the face of another blow, pitying the Ermehn's attempts to make him talk. "You might as well kill me already. I'm not the kind of person who likes to chat." The Ermehn raised his clenched paw again, aiming for Lieutenant Volhim's face, but stopped as a deep rumbling voice interrupted the interrogation. "Leave him be." The Ermehn looked back over their shoulder, resting their eyes on whoever had addressed them. They nodded, bowing their head and lowering their arm as they stepped back away from the lieutenant. Hector watched a behemoth step out from behind the obscurity of a nearby tent and approach the captive. He stood taller than anyone else within the camp, most certainly towering over Hector and any other Canid. The Ermehn's face was adorned in numerous tribal tattoos and markings, more so than any regular soldier he had stumbled across so far. Experience radiated from the numerous scars and wounds left emblazoned on the flesh beneath his dark fur. An axe sat snug in the belt of the giant, sharpened and ready to tear flesh. Upon seeing such an intimidating figure, Hector felt himself almost shrink back a bit. [[Then his eyes fell upon what dangled from the Ermehn's belt->Discovery]].

From his belt dangled several fur pelts, accompanied by the severed tails of Canid soldiers. They had a sheen to them, glossed over by the water, but it didn't distract Hector from the horrid trophies any less. Such a prolific figure could only be the fabled Chief all the Ermehn had been referring to. "You're all talk and no steel, lieutenant. A //c'oth//. Your soldiers are dead and no one is coming to save you. I suggest you start cooperating whilst it can still end well for you." The lieutenant turned his nose up at the sight of the Ermehn chief. "It doesn't end well for me either way, does it? I die in the end anyway. I'm not stupid. You're not getting a word out of me." The Chief, with an effortless flick of his arm, yanked a dagger from his belt. The crude blade mocked the lieutenant, looming inches from his face. "So many have knelt where you kneel today, lieutenant. So many have died there, too. Horribly. Their screams still echo across the wastes to this day. So either you start to talk or I'll start making you talk." "You're not scary so stop playing tough. I've faced street urchins in Nessa that are scarier, bigger and tougher than you. I've seen it all." The Chief continued to threaten the lieutenant, edging closer and closer every few seconds. Hector felt reluctant to intervene, still focusing on the pelts and tails that dangled from his belt. //Focus, Hector, focus. I need to stop this. But how? What do I do?// He scanned his surroundings. From his position at the entrance, he didn't know if he could effectively weed out the Ermehn patrols without alerting the Chief and the rest of the tribe. They were relaxed from victory, sure, but not so much that they would overlook the blind stupidity of a Canid soldier attempting to sneak around them. Better options revealed themselves. To his left sat a tent, it's front flap open and beckoning him to enter. To his right sat another tent, also open and left abandoned. Both yielded mystery prizes and rewards, hidden from sight. However, Hector knew he didn't have the time to visit both without the lieutenant being tortured. He either needed to [[enter the left tent->Left]] or [[enter the right tent->Right]].

Peering around him, Hector edged into the left tent with sword raised in anticipation. To his relief, none rested inside. All he found within was a tattered and muddied bedroll strewn out across the dirt and an arrangement of boxes beside it, complimented by a desk and rickety wooden chair. At first glance, it seemed like nothing of value rested within the tent. As he turned to leave, he saw a scroll of parchment atop the desk and a pot of ink. He listened. The Chief and Lieutenant Volhim continued to argue, punctuated by the occasional punch across the latter's face, so he sensed he had some time to decipher whether what sat before him was of any importance. He sheathed his sword and reached for the scroll, unraveling it and inspecting its contents. He had expected to see Ermehn script scrawled across the parchment, rendering it useless to him, but instead found himself reading a Canid letter from an outpost on the border destined for Arklow, Aisling's capital. The Canid scrawl belonged to a Lieutenant Seralyn of the army, as it said on the bottom of the letter. Hector was surprised to find Ermehn writing annotating the letter's contents from the borders, unaware that any Ermehn were competent enough to write, let alone read Canid script. Faded crimson stained the bottom left corner of the letter, revealing the fate of whichever raven had been unfortunate enough to have been tasked with the delivery of the message. Glancing over his shoulder to see if the coast was clear, he hurried and [[read through the message->Message to Arklow]].

Wincing as his gash ached and throbbed, he darted into the right tent in search of anything that could help him. Inside he found numerous wooden boxes and open crates, most of which were empty or filled with inedible scraps of food. Hector sighed at the sight of chunks of discarded bred and half-eaten tubers, as well as the rare rotten berry or piece of discoloured fruit. These people truly suffered out in the Northern Wastes. He couldn't deny it. //How are they even still alive, at this point//? He left that question unanswered, searching through the crates as quickly as he could. He could still hear the aggressive exchange between Lieutenant Volhim and the Chief, punctuated by the occasional strike across the face. He needed to intervene before matters got worse. As he searched the last crate with low expectations, he caught a glimpse of something resting behind it. Glancing back to the entrance, he knelt and reached in. His paw closed on something solid and wooden, pulling it out from behind its cover. In his left paw he held a wooden circular shield, its perimeter rimmed with steel and a metal star situated in the middle. The panelling was worn and chipped, some parts of the shield rotting and rusting, but it would still hold firm against an arrow or blade. At the very least, it made him feel safer. "You hit like a drunkard!" Lieutenant Volhim laughed from the camp's centre. "How did you even become a chief of this tribe? Is everyone too stupid to realise that they could just kill you and take over? You're weak!" Another punch followed. Sensing that the lieutenant's agitation of the Chief would only hasten his death, Hector readied his shield and [[strode out from the tent->Addressing the Chief 2]].

To His Majesty Janus of Aisling, General Clovis and General Tosch, I hope this letter finds you well. This report is written in urgency, founded on alerts and increasing concern from my soldiers monitoring naval activity on Lake Felnach and all of its tributaries and rivers. There have been an increasing number of Ermehn refugees attempting to cross Lake Felnach and reach Aisling's shores, which would then pave them a road to travel South across Dunia and have access to the Four Kingdoms. This is already old news to you, I'm aware. Many Ermehn chance their lives on naval passage into Aisling and many, if not all of them, find themselves to be fools for doing so. However, over recent months the numbers of successful crossings have increased steadily. Some have managed to flee South into other kingdoms that we cannot enter without instigating a war or threatening the integrity of the Treaty of Cenolau, meaning our containment of this situation may be starting to collapse under the pressure of such a task. It is suspected that these refugees may be utilising certain corridors and pathways that we are unaware of and, as a result, I am enquiring as to whether there can be a greater emphasis on naval patrols and monitoring of our great lake and its respective tributaries. These Ermehn, whilst savages, are not to be underestimated. If they begin to grow in majority in Aisling and the Four Kingdoms, this situation may become dire beyond reparation. Please respond swiftly. Sincerely, [[Lieutenant Logan Seralyn->Stop Reading]]

Hector lowered the parchment and realised what he was reading. These Ermehn were trying to flee. They wanted to locate these secret passages into Aisling so they could cross the border from the lake and escape the Northern Wastes. He remembered the threadbare tent that he stood in. The inedible scraps of food that had been left to rot. The mothers doing their best for their young whilst their husbands fought to defend their tribes and feed their families. He remembered the terrified face of Novi, crying and pleading. Were these the very savages he had been raised to hate? The monsters he had been trained to kill without hesitation? As realisation dawned on him, he brought himself back to his senses. The lieutenant still awaited rescue, possibly seconds from agony, and he had to intervene. Regardless of morals or his thoughts, he needed to secure the lieutenant. He needed to make sure Vyra had not died for nothing. He stormed out from the tent, sword sheathed but paw dangling close to it in case he needed to dispatch any foes. He turned and approached the clearing, eyes focused on the back of the Chief. Lieutenant Volhim's face had since collected more bruises and had become more bloody, a thin line of crimson dribbling from the corner of his mouth, yet his eyes still shone with the same defiant confidence. "Hit me again," Lieutenant Volhim goaded. "Go on. Make yourself feel better, you dirty savage." The Chief raised a mighty paw to strike him, determined to extract that precious information, but Hector [[brought that to a stop with a yell->Addressing the Chief]].

Hector's voice cut through the commotion of the interrogation. The Chief and his subordinate both turned to face him. Lieutenant Volhim followed their gaze and found his rescuer standing there, squaring off against the behemoth and his tribe. Mothers gasped at the sight of the muddied Canid and yanked their young away, retreating to the cave. "Over here!" The subordinate yelled, breaking free from his stupor. "I've got another Canid over here!" Within seconds, the other soldiers hurried to the commotion. Three guards hurried in from the back of the camp, including the archer Hector had seen on the cliff edge. They reinforced their leader, eyes focused on the Canid. Two more arrived from the entrance, appearing from Hector's left with blades drawn. Two more appeared from the right, summoned from the cave by the cry for help and the sudden panic. Hector Thornvallis faced nine armed Ermehn warriors, all of which wore sacks over their heads and aimed their blades at him. The archer levelled their bow at his head, arrow loaded. "You idiot," Lieutenant Volhim said. "You should have run away. I wouldn't have told them anything!" "I'm not leaving you, sir," Hector said. "Not now. I'd rather die than run away." With such a statement being uttered, the Chief stepped forwards from the ranks. He drew his axe from his belt and held it loosely in one paw, dangling it by his side. "You've made a big mistake walking in here. Your lieutenant is right - you should have ran while you had the chance." "I'm not leaving without him." "You're not in a position to make demands. You're outnumbered. If you so much as breathe in a way I don't like, you'll be dead before you even realise it." Hector glanced to the archer. Their focused gaze told him they wouldn't hesitate to fire at a moment's notice if told to do so. He found the same glares to be emanating from all the other Ermehn surrounding him, shifting from hind paw to hind paw in anticipation. Hector's eyes fell upon the lieutenant. His superior met his gaze with a look that pitied him - a look that reminded him that his presence at the camp was nothing but a mistake. That there was nothing to be gained. Hector disagreed. The question was, what was he trying to gain? Was he pursuing [[peace's mellow embrace->Peace]]? Or was he pursuing victory in [[a flurry of blood and steel->Flurry of Blood]]?

"You've suffered out here. There's no denying how much torture your people have faced throughout the years. It's terrible." Hector reached for his sword. The Ermehn tensed. "But I have my people to look after, too. I have a duty." The Chief shook his head. "Is that duty worth dying for?" "I guess we'll find out." Hector summoned his sword from his sheath, turning to evade the archer as they fired. He was a fool to have thought he could evade the sharp eye of the archer. He yelped as the arrow tore into his right shoulder, sending him spinning to the ground. He landed with a grunt, clamping his eyes shut in pain as blood began to pour from the newly-collected wound. Though he didn't focus on it, he heard the mocking laughter of the Ermehn soldiers as they sheathed their weapons. The Chief approached Hector, kneeling by his side. The wounded Canid looked up into his eyes, trying to appeal to whatever mercy or kindness resided behind his gaze. Unsurprisingly, such an attempt failed. Nothing but a cold glare stared back at him, unforgiving and hostile. "I hope your allegiance to your cruel generals and corrupt king were worth your payment in blood." "Hey!" Lieutenant Volhim yelled. "Leave him alone! He's just an idiot, let him go! It's me you want!" Hector tried to reach for his sword. The Chief slid it away, standing. He raised his axe. "May you find peace beyond this realm, Canid." With a yell, the Chief [[brought his axe down on Hector's neck and beheaded him in one swift motion->Perished 5]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Addressing the Chief]]

"You won't survive crossing Lake Felnach, you know." Hector saw the Chief's small ears twitch upon hearing the name. The Ermehn soldiers faltered for a moment, caught off-guard, but didn't let their gaze shift from the Canid. Even Lieutenant Volhim's ears stood. "And where do you get the idea I want to cross it?" The Chief asked. Hector eased his paw to his pocket and revealed the letter he had acquired from the left tent. The Ermehn soldiers glanced to one another, uncertain of where the situation was going. The Chief shifted. "A letter you intercepted from a messenger raven. You're trying to find those unknown passages that Lieutenant Seralyn was worried about, aren't you? The ones that guarantee you'll cross Aisling's border without being caught or killed. That's why you didn't kill Lieutenant Volhim. You wanted to see if he knew where they were." The Chief stepped forward again. "Are we to blame for that? The oppression of my people is caused by your generals and your king continuing to massacre us. They continue to take from us despite disgracing our tribes far beyond what can be considered moral." The Ermehn nodded in agreement, murmuring support. Lieutenant Volhim watched Hector, wrestling against his restraints. "And it is terrible what they have done to your people," Hector said, nodding. "All the horrors your tribe has endured. All the crimes committed against you. You just want to live. You just want to flourish and develop, like any other person does." "Don't patronise us, Canid." "I'm not patronising you. I have no reason to. This barren land has seen its fare share of bloodshed throughout the years. I don't want it to see another drop of crimson if I can help it." "And how can you help it? You are just another cutthroat soldier sent here to steal our food and eradicate us. You want to see nothing but crimson across these wastes. Why should I believe a //single word// from your mouth? Why I should trust the word of a Canid? So I can have my throat slit?" The Ermehn and Lieutenant Volhim glared, waiting for an answer. Hector paused, thinking. He could suggest to the Chief to trust him on [[good faith->Good Faith]], that he had no other choice beyond seeing his people drown and die on their way across Lake Felnach. Or he could [[entice him with some sort of bargain regarding these mysterious passages->Bargain]], encouraging him with something slightly more physical rather than abstract.

Hector, knowing he had no solid information on Lake Felnach, decided to take a chance. "Because I'm smart enough to know that crossing that lake will be the end for you and your tribe. You'll watch your people die one by one and then you'll be next. Within minutes, any trace of you will be wiped from Dunia. No one will remember you. They won't even put your head on a spike." The Ermehn stirred. Lieutenant Volhim sat still, glancing from soldier to soldier, and then to the Chief. His face hardened in response to Hector's words, waiting for his conclusion. "You have to have faith in me. Regardless of whether I'm a Canid or not." Silence hung over the camp. None moved. Paws gripped their weapons harder, waiting for the slightest indication that their enemy was about to strike. The Chief, still unimpressed, decided to speak. "I have had faith in the Canid for a long time. In their promises that they would leave us alone. In their words that they were doing what they did for the safety of our people and the pursuit of peace." Behind his eyes, Hector saw an intense hatred he never thought could exist. The Chief regarded him with disgust, shaking his head. "The Canid idea of peace is to slaughter us until we have nothing left. To stab us in the back whilst whispering lies into our ears. I have made the mistake of trusting your kind for far too long." Hector began to realise that his pacification attempt had not gone to plan. "I would be a fool to have faith in a race of liars." With that, Hector felt someone grab him from behind. He yelped in surprise and struggled, trying to unsheathe his sword, but his arms were pinned to his side. The soldiers sheathed their blades and hurried to him, helping their ally restrain him. "Take him to the cave." The Chief ordered, turning back to face Lieutenant Volhim. Before Hector could call out for the Chief to listen, [[one of the Ermehn punched him in the side of the head and threw him into darkness->Darkness]].

Hector, despite not bearing much information on these hidden passages, decided to bargain. "Because I can help you get across." Such a promise stirred the Ermehn. The soldiers murmured and, for a fraction of a second, temptation clouded their eyes. The Chief scoffed at Hector's words, shaking his head. "You are just a soldier. You know nothing of use. I'm not an idiot." "You'd be right to think that. But I'm not just a soldier. I'm Commander Hector Thornvallis, close advisor to General Tosch, General Clovis and a personal friend of Lieutenant Logan Seralyn." Hector saw the Ermehn grow hesitant, their weapons lowering by an inch. The archer's bowstring slackened ever so slightly, averting their gaze for a moment to look at their leader. Lieutenant Volhim stopped wrestling against his restraints, realising Hector's plan. The Chief still remained sceptical. "You wear the uniform of a grunt. You're no commander." "I had to wear a soldier's uniform instead of my own because it had gotten dirty in Deltrada," Hector lied. "You'd be surprised how highly the generals value cleanliness." "If a commander was passing through here, I'd have known about it." "And you didn't. It goes to show how unreliable your information is. If that's the case, then how can you even hope to cross Lake Felnach with whatever vague information you have?" "That's why we're interrogating this lieutenant." "And he doesn't know anything about Felnach. This report clearly didn't make it to Deltrada after you shot the bird down. Why would he know anything about it?" Unsure of how to proceed, the Chief's harsh and sceptical expression faded. A look of bewilderment followed, scrutinising every inch of Hector's muddied uniform and figure. Seconds of thought passed in silence. The Ermehn remained uneasy, shifting their gaze from Hector to the Chief. The Chief's softened face soon hardened and snarled, casting his gaze back into Hector's eyes. "So...you say that you are one of those that orchestrate the tyranny we face?" The Chief said. "One of the generals' lackeys that torture and maim where they can?" "I'm a commander but I'm not like that. I want to help you. Like I said, the lieutenant doesn't know anything about Felnach." "And why should I trust you? Why should any of us, after all the pain you've forced upon the Ermehn, believe that lying tongue of yours?" Hector's lie had worked. As far as the Chief knew, he was faced with a Canid commander that had survived the ambush whilst disguised as a regular soldier. If the Chief believed him, the surrounding Ermehn would believe him too. Now, however, he had to convince the Chief to let them go. Already, the idea of [[proclaiming his fake close friendship with Lieutenant Seralyn->Kushar]] rushed to the tip of his tongue. However, what he had seen throughout the camp demanded that he [[speak the truth->Truth]]. If he spoke with passionate honesty, the Chief would have to believe him.

Hector could only groan as he opened his eyes. Seconds of dazed confusion passed as he found himself sitting inside a dark cavern, the light of the mantled torch illuminating the glistening walls of rock and stone. They had knocked him out. //Lieutenant Volhim.// As he went to stand, he found his arms held in place above his head. He looked up and saw his wrists shackled to the wall above him, unable to be freed. Looking down, he saw his ankles chained to a metal nail diagonally to his left, keeping him in a sitting position. He was trapped. He struggled. A chorus of jangling chains echoed throughout the cave, cutting through the silence. Hector felt himself panic, grunting and snarling as he attempted to brute-force his way to freedom. The shackles were far from lenient. His ears stood and he stopped struggling. He looked right towards a hole in the wall and heard someone walking in his direction, padding through the silent cave tunnels. Seconds of dread passed, frozen in fear. The Chief's tall figure stepped out from the darkness and into the light of the torch. Two Ermehn, no longer donning their masks, followed him behind with a brown sack of unknown items inside. They scowled at Hector, murmuring to each other and waiting by the entrance. Hector focused on the Chief as he stopped before him. Silence followed, only interrupted by the crackling of the mantled torch. The Chief's face was in shadow, turned away from the light. He reached to his belt. "To his credit, your lieutenant never opened his mouth." He dropped something to the ground before Hector. [[Hector looked down at the item->Skinned]], squinting to see what it was in the dim light of the cave.

Hector realised he was staring at Lieutenant Volhim's bloodied pelt. With panicked eyes, he looked back up at the Chief. "You...you..." "Took his pelt, yes, as well as his head. A good reminder of what happens to your kind out here in the wastes." Terror rendered Hector speechless. He couldn't understand what he was looking at. He had seen suffering people - a tribe struggling to find a way of life out in the Northern Wastes. He had seen a disgraced community. He had seen a desperation to survive. But, as he looked into the Chief's eyes, he didn't know what he saw anymore. "Y-You're a monster," Hector managed. "Killing us is one thing. But beheading us and skinning us for our pelts? That's insane. That's evil." The Chief, after a moment of silence, answered the captive. "My people have suffered for nearly a century. My tribe has had its people slaughtered and executed for trying to live. My father and his fathers have faced extinction for years because of //you//. They have watched the heads of those they know sit atop the walls of Deltrada Garrison, a place that was once //ours//. They've buried their young. They've endured pain you cannot hope to imagine." He knelt, leaning in. "You collect heads, I collect pelts. Am I any more of a monster than you, Canid?" Hector, through a combination of fear and realisation, couldn't answer that. The Chief stood and turned to the two Ermehn, giving them an order. They nodded and carried the sack to Hector, dropping it beside him. "Your lieutenant had a strong will. Didn't utter a word and held out for a good few hours. You? I think you'll last a few minutes." Hector watched as the two Ermehn withdrew crude, serrated blades from the sack and turned to him. "N-No...please, I don't know anything about the lake, I swear!" "Let's see how long you'll be saying that for." The Chief said. The Ermehn torturers sharpened the blades, eyes focused on Hector's ankles. As the Chief walked back through the tunnels and out to the camp, [[the pained screams of Hector Thornvallis echoed across the Northern Wastes->Perished 6]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Peace]]

"Because I am close friends with Lieutenant Logan Seralyn, the very person who wrote that report. I could speak with him, learn about these routes that he's planning to cover up with patrols, and then give the information back to you." "Why shouldn't I just beat it out of you?" The Chief asked. "Because then you won't get anything, will you? I need to speak to the lieutenant first before I can give you anything. And the only way that's going to happen is if I go back to Deltrada." "Fine. You go back to Deltrada and we keep your lieutenant here. You come back with that information and then we'll let him go, too." The Chief raised his axe and pressed it against Lieutenant Volhim's throat. The captive snarled, tipping his head back to alleviate the pressure, but did nothing more. "No, he needs to come with me." "And why's that?" "Because my superiors will be a lot less sceptical if I return with the lieutenant. They don't take kindly to those that kill their officers. The smart thing here is to let him come with me. I'll send a messenger raven to this camp with the information." "Maybe the smart thing to do would be to add both your heads to the display down the hill?" "Maybe it would. Maybe it would satisfy your desire for revenge. But at what cost? At the sacrifice of your chance to live free? Live like all those in the Four Kingdoms? Live without having to worry about food being put on the table? Live in //buildings//, not tents?" Hector held the Chief's gaze. The leader's face did not soften in understanding or realisation. It remained cruel and harsh, clashing against the Canid's proposition. The Ermehn soldiers stood ready. Lieutenant Volhim waited in silence. Finally, the Chief cast his gaze behind Hector and spoke. "[[Step away from him->Step Back]]."

"Because until this day, I never knew what horrible things you had to live through. I never knew that the people I had grown up to hate, the people my generals told me to kill without a second thought, were just people. People who wanted to live. People who wanted to live in security, in safety and in happiness. People who didn't want to worry about when their next meal would be." The Chief chuckled. "You must have practiced this little speech." "I am not lying to you. Because I came across Novi-" The Ermehn soldiers all focused on Hector, readying their weapons. "What did you do to him?" One soldier demanded. "Did you hurt him?" "I didn't hurt him, okay? He's fine. He was crying and begging me to live and...I let him go." He focused on the Chief again. "Seeing an Ermehn like that...like someone who just wants to live...made me reconsider all of what I know now. All of what my leaders have told me. All of the //lies// they told me. And I'm starting to think that, maybe, I've been helping the wrong side. That maybe General Tosch and General Clovis are nothing but liars." Lieutenant Volhim frowned. Hector continued. "This whole thing is a mess of blood and shallow graves. An endless cycle of vengeance, torture and despair. And I want that to end. I want to help bring peace between Canid and Ermehn. I want you to live the lives you deserve in the Four Kingdoms. Not out here, starving and freezing to death." The Chief faltered, pensive. Hector exploited this lapse in his hostility. "You could very well kill me. You could capture me, drag me off to some cave and torture me until I told you everything I knew. You could beat the information out of me. And if you want to make that decision, do it. But do it knowing that I stand here wanting to help you - not because I'm scared of dying." [[He stopped his rant and waited for an answer from the Chief->Honesty]].

Hector had never expected to see such a look upon the face of a behemoth. The Chief stood there, silent and flummoxed. He opened his mouth several times to answer, to question Hector's motives, but not once did he speak. His Ermehn subordinates waited, some of them staring at their leader with weapons lowered. The minority did not dare to divert their attention, particularly the archer aiming at his head. The Chief looked past Hector. "You can step away from him, now." Hector glanced over his shoulder. Behind him stood an unmasked Ermehn who, up until his dismissal, had been ready to grab him once signalled. They glared at him but did as they were told, walking back to the families that had retreated to the cave. He soothed himself and turned back to the Chief, knowing he had not been too far from being captured or killed. "I have always been wary of Canid promises," The Chief said. "Too many a time, my people have been deceived by kind words. But you...I don't know." Hector didn't push his luck by continuing to speak. He let the Chief think. "I have always dreamed of killing a commander. Of beheading those who wronged us. But after what you said...I could not live with myself if I harmed you." He turned to his warriors. "Lower your weapons. Free the lieutenant. Give them enough food for the journey home." Two of the soldiers nodded and moved towards Lieutenant Volhim, reaching to cut his restraints. The others stood idle and awkward, left as stunned as their leader. "You ain't serious," The archer said. "He's a Canid. He's our enemy. Just kill him now and be done with it!" "And forsake our people?" The Chief said. "This opportunity to reach fresh land? To live? I wouldn't dream of it and neither should you!" The archer shot a look at Hector before marching off back to the cliff's edge, shaking their head and complaining under their breath. Hector looked back to Lieutenant Volhim as he was freed. His lieutenant stared at him with a look of distrust. As if he had been betrayed. "I let you go and you help my people," The Chief said. "You send a messenger raven here with the routes across the Felnach that are undiscovered and we cross safely." He leant in. "I have trusted you on this, Canid. Maybe I am a fool, maybe not. Either way - if I find out you deceived me, more Canid will die in these hills." Hector, without doubt or hesitation, nodded. "I won't let you down. I'll have a messenger raven sent to this hill as soon as I can get the routes over to you. But your people need to move. You need to relocate. I have to tell my superiors about the dead soldiers down on the road and they'll send a bigger patrol out here to kill you. [[One that you won't be able to attack without losing everything->Resolution]]."

The Chief nodded in silence and stood aside as the two Ermehn brought Lieutenant Volhim forwards. They held him by the arms, marching him back to his ally. One of them seemed confident in the Chief's orders, weapon sheathed, yet their partner remained sceptical of Hector and the captive. As they arrived by Hector, they passed Lieutent Volhim to him. The Canid offered his shoulder to the lieutenant, supporting his weight. He found that the lieutenant's frown had disappeared, sheathed whilst in front of the Ermehn as to not threaten Hector's lie. The Ermehn passed Hector some food. "We have a bargain, then," The Chief said. "We give you mercy, you give us those routes across the Felnach." "By messenger raven. Use this spot as a messaging point. Like I said, you've got to get out of here or you won't be alive to cross that lake." "I'll see to it. Jurra, Loshi, take these two down to the road and guide them towards Aisling. Make sure the commander makes it back alive. Take them far enough so they don't run into any patrols." "We're helping the enemy here, Chief," Jurra said. "These people hate us." The Chief regarded Hector with a look of trust. "Not all of them, clearly. Besides, we're not helping the enemy - we're helping our tribe. Now get going." Hector passed the intercepeted letter he had brandished earlier to the Chief, following Jurra as she begrudgingly carried out her orders. Loshi followed behind, ducking between the tents. "You're lucky." Jurra said. "If I was the Chief, I would have killed you where you stood." Maybe other Canid would have growled or snarled in response to such a threat. Maybe even a younger, more naive Hector would have retorted with a threat of his own. But, after all he had been through that rainy day, he conceded. "I don't blame you." Whilst he couldn't see her face, Jurra's silence indicated she hadn't expected that answer. Grumbling, she led them on down the hill and past the decapitated Canid from long ago. They walked down the road, enduring the rain. Up ahead stood that group of Ermehn soldiers he had passed before, [[all of which stared at the approaching party->Exit]].

"Hey, hey!" The leader yelled. "What you two doing with Canids? Ain't that the lieutenant we was interrogating?" "Chief's orders. Look out for any more patrols." The group could only glare at Hector and Lieutenant Volhim as they passed, shielded by the Chief's decree. All of the group held the grips of their weapons. One of them spat at the ground, shaking their head. Jurra led them down to the aftermath of the ambush. The damp corpses of the two Ermehn Hector had slain lay beside the body of the soldier he had spoken to. Jurra saw them, turning to Hector. "You killed them." "They were going to kill that soldier. I had to do something. I'm sorry." Once again, Jurra averted her gaze and kept walking. She led them past the aftermath of the ambush and tens of metres down the road, curving with it through the barren wilderness. As they passed, Hector focused his gaze on Moltreig and Vyra. He wanted to take them home. He wanted them to be commemorated and have some closure. But he knew that wouldn't happen. //I'm sorry//. Jurra, Loshi, Hector and Lieutenant Volhim all endured the rain in silence. After several minutes, Jurra came to a stop and turned. "Keep following this road South. You'll reach Deltrada eventually." "Okay. Thank you." Jurra began to walk away, gesturing for Loshi to follow, but stopped. She turned to say something to Hector - a threat, a warning, an insult. Hector waited to hear it. Yet, after several seconds of silence, she just closed her mouth and walked away. He watched them leave, disappearing into the rain and back up the road to their camp. Reality began to sink in. They had done it. They had survived. "We're free, lieutenant," Hector said. "You're safe. I know the rest of us still died like...like Vyra, but...not in vain." The lieutenant mumbled something, panting. "Lieutenant? What was that?" "You made a deal with them." The way the lieutenant said it sounded like an accusation. Like he had committed a crime. "I did what I had to do to get us out of there. It was all a ploy to rescue you, sir." "But...you called Tosch and Clovis liars. You...sympathised with the barbarians." Hector, struggling to answer, hesitated. He scrambled for a response, trying to soothe the lieutenant. "All a lie, sir. Like I said - I was just trying to get us out alive." The lieutenant fell silent, looking away. Hector looked ahead and continued down the road, leading them back to [[Deltrada->Deltrada]].

After three days of travelling through the ceaseless rain, stopping regularly to take shelter, they arrived back home. As Hector traversed the open grounds before the mighty Deltrada Garrison, he waved to the guards on the walkways. Canid soldiers peered over the walls as he approached, one ready with a bow and arrow. "It's us! Hector Thornvallis and Lieutenant Volhim! We're back from patrol!" He heard echoing cries of his names from the guards, relaying the information to those operating the doors. They heaved open as they advanced, allowing two soldiers to hurry out towards them. "Easy sir, easy!" One said, taking the lieutenant from Hector. "We'll take it from here. Come on in, quick." "What happened, Hector?" The second said. "We were ambushed. Killed everyone and captured the lieutenant. I survived. Vyra saved me but..." Hector's ears wilted. "She didn't make it." The second soldier gave a solemn nod and bowed his head in her memory. "I'm sorry, Hector. I know you two were close." "Yeah, well...it's done now." Hector, remembering Vyra's sacrifice, followed the two soldiers into the courtyard. As the doors swung shut behind them, he saw the same bustling activity he had become so accustomed to. He saw the hardworking omegas carrying out their tasks at the forge, distributing weaponry and supplies across the garrison. He saw recruits training, chanting in unison with passion and loyalty in their hearts. He saw officers patrolling the grounds, commanding their troops. But, after all that had happened, he didn't see it the same way. [[He saw a den of merciless killers->Merciless]], not hardened heroes.

Hector followed the soldiers to a nearby officer, ignoring the glances he received from those scrutinisng his tarnished uniform and unkempt fur. "Lieutenant Norlas, sir," The first soldier said. "The patrol have returned." Lieutenant Norlas, a grey Canid officer that stood before a regiment of Canid soldiers in the middle of pushups, turned to face the new arrivals. His eyes widened at the sight of the injured Lieutenant Volhim and the muddied Hector. "Soldier!" He called to a subordinate. "Take over for me!" "Yes, sir!" They chanted. "All right, pups! Keep going! Hey, you at the back, I didn't tell you to stop!" Lieutenant Norlas hurried over, two other soldiers following him. He surveyed the two survivors again, faced contorted in confusion. His ears twitched and his tail flicked. "I don't follow. What happened? Where are the rest of the patrol?" "They didn't make it, sir," Hector said. "We were ambushed. Ermehn tribe. They killed everyone and captured Lieutenant Volhim. I survived, went back and got him out. We barely escaped." "//All// of you? Not another survivor?" Hector hesitated before answering, Vyra's corpse flashing in front of him. "They were all dead when I came to, sir. I did what I could." Lieutenant Norlas sighed. "That...is a great shame. Those bloodthirsty savages are nothing but trouble to civilised Dunia. We'll get them back ten-fold for what they did to us. Now, soldier, get Lieutenant Volhim to a doctor." The soldier led Lieutenant Volhim away, guiding him slowly towards the keep. "Are you hurt, Hector?" "I've got a nasty gash on my head but...other than that, I'm quite lucky." "Well, I think you should-" "Wait, wait!" All of those at the convening turned to face Lieutenant Volhim. He hobbled back towards the group, trembling and shivering. He boasted enough strength to raise his arm and point at them. Hector felt that familiar impending dread as he saw the lieutenant [[pointing at him->Accused]].

"He's lying to you, lieutenant. He's lying through his teeth." Lieutenant Norlas glanced to Hector. He tried his best to act natural, feigning a confused expression, before looking back at Lieutenant Volhim. "Calm down. You're safe now and you're tired. You need some-" "No, //listen to me//. He didn't kill the Ermehn. He helped them. He called General Tosch and Clovis liars and offered help to that tribe in crossing Lake Felnach. He promised to send them a messenger raven with routes that weren't monitored by patrols!" All the commotion caused many of the surrounding Canids to look in their direction. The omegas stopped working and the recruits halted training, their officers finding themselves intrigued also. Hector froze as he found all eyes on him. "Hector...is this true?" Lieutenant Norlas asked. "Like you said, sir, he's tired. He's-" "He's trying to help them get into the Four Kingdoms. He's undermining King Janus, General Clovis and General Tosch. He's committing treason, damn it!" If anyone hadn't been listening, they sure were now. "I-I lied so we could escape alive," Hector said. "That's all it was." "He's a traitor! He's an Ermehn sympathiser! He told the tribe to relocate so we couldn't attack them! Arrest him already!" Before Hector could defend himself, Lieutenant Norlas nodded to his two guards. They stormed forwards and grabbed both of his arms, removing the blade from his sheath and placing it in their belt. "Hey, wait! You can't be arresting me!" "I am," Lieutenant Norlas said. "Lieutenant Volhim is a respectable officer, Hector. I trust his word over yours." Thrusted from one dangerous situation into another, Hector shot a look at the lieutenant. The Canid he had almost died trying to rescue stared at him with no remorse, confident in his accusation. "I saved your life!" Hector snarled. "This is how you thank me? Having me arrested?" "You offered them help!" "So I could help you!" "Liar! I heard every last word of what you said. You said you doubted us. You said you didn't see them as savages or wanted to kill them. You said they were just normal people." "But-" "What aren't you understanding? That 'normal' Chief skinned Canid, Hector! He wore their pelts and tails! He beheaded some of our own! People like Vyra! People like Moltreig! People who were like you and me! You're helping the enemy - an enemy who wants nothing more than to see us all dead!" Hector, stumped, looked back at Lieutenant Norlas. The look on his face was solemn, almost ashamed, but there would be no convincing him. "Take him to the dungeons. I'll talk to the generals and see what we do with him." Hector struggled and wrestled against the two soldiers as they dragged him away from the group. All eyes were on him. Chatter hovered over the recruits, speculating as to what other treasonous acts he had committed. But, despite the fear of reprimand and the possible punishments that loomed beyond his arrest, he felt some semblance of satisfaction. He had spared Novi. He had convinced a ruthless tribal leader to let them go. He had survived the ordeal and, whilst the pain of loss still lingered, he had honoured Vyra's sacrifice. He had saved the tribe by telling them to relocate, preventing his allies from tracking them down. Whatever punishment he faced, Hector Thornvallis felt confident in the choices he had made. The choices he had made to pursue peace, not vengeful bloodlust. No matter what awaited Hector, [[he knew that he had made the right choice->True Ending]].

A TRAITOR'S ENDING Through your trials and tribulations, you unearthed an ugly truth. You chose peace over bloodshed. You chose mercy over vengeance. You chose conscience over loyalty. You refused to bury your head in the sand. To smother the truth in lies and fables like many of your brethren did. You were noble. For better or for worse, these are the choices you made. [[Has this outcome satisfied you->Finale]]? [[Or do you hear the distant beckon of other paths left untrodden->This is Where the Tale Begins]]?

THANK YOU FOR PLAYING 'BTWD - THESE DEMONS OF OURS' This is my first ever attempt at making a Twine game so I doubt it's a masterpiece. However, I hope you enjoyed the story! This is an unofficial fan-made interactive fiction game based on //Beyond the Western Deep//, an amazing webcomic created by Alex Kain, Rachel Bennett and Jerome Jacinto! They are awesome people that have created an awesome community of readers and fans around the world of Dunia. I mean, seriously, do you know how much effort these guys have put into this? A HELL of a lot. They interact with the community, feature guest art, go out to conventions, update the webcomic on a regular basis and, even when they can't do that, they add 'hiatus' content instead that is just as great. All of this //on top// of all the other duties and responsibilities life throws at them. At the very least, check their website out at https://www.westerndeep.net/ And their Twitter at @kobbers (Rachel) @tdcpresents (Alex) @sinto j (Jerome) (there's an underscore between the 'j' and 'sinto' but I can't type it in without messing up the page) If you guys would like to get future updates on my writing stuff and any more upcoming Twine projects, my Twitter handle is @TheHGSansostri. I may return to the story of Hector Thornvallis as a hiatus project between my main projects and, even if I don't develop his story further, I'd love to keep making them! Once again, thanks so much for playing and [[I'll see you around->This is Where the Tale Begins]]!

Hector looked over his shoulder. Behind him, he saw an unmasked Ermehn that, up until this point, had stood ready to grab him from behind. They murmured and walked back towards the cave. There, from the darkness of the cavern, he saw numerous faces peering out and regarding him with fear and hatred. Hector soothed his thundering heart as he realised he had been only half a metre away from being captured and killed. "Free the lieutenant." The soldiers shot looks at the Chief, confused. "Free him already. And get them some food. Just enough to survive the journey and nothing more." Urged to do so, two soldiers lowered their weapons and trudged over to Lieutenant Volhim. The archer slackened her bowstring and lowered her bow, rounding on the Chief. "You can't be serious. You're letting them go?" "I don't like it either," The Chief said. "I'm sceptical. But a commander is offering us help and we need it." "How can we trust him?" "I've made up my mind. Leave it be." The archer huffed and shook their head, turning and storming off to the cliff edge. The two soldiers freed Lieutenant Volhim and took an arm each, guiding him towards the commander. The Chief stopped before Hector, axe still in paw. "I have every reason to kill you where you stand. I'm probably a fool for doing this...but we are desperate. I will be waiting for that raven. And if this leads to some sort of trap or that raven never comes, I will collect the pelt of every last Canid that enters these wastes and I will do it because of //you//." He leant in. "You'll be wise to remember that, commander." Hector nodded, knowing better than to argue or challenge the behemoth that had just let him go. He turned to the two soldiers as they dropped the lieutenant before him. Lieutenant Volhim fell into a heap at Hector's hind paws, grunting as the soldiers passed Hector some scraps. "Ah...damn you Ermehn. Damn all of you." "Easy, I've got you." Hector said, putting an arm over his shoulder and lifting him up to his hind paws. "Jurra, Loshi, [[escort them down the road->Escort]] and make sure they head in the right direction."

"This is a mistake," Jurra said. "We should just kill these two and be done with it. They're our enemy - they hate us." The Chief regarded Hector with a look of distrust, as if something inside questioned his decision. "Maybe they do, maybe they don't. All that matters is that they honour their end of the bargain," The Chief said. "Now get going." Grumbling, Jurra pushed past Hector and padded between the tents. The silent Loshi waited for the Canids to follow, blade drawn and dangling by their side. Hector knew that all it would take to feel that metal cutting between his shoulder blades was one wrong move. He treaded lightly, following Jurra between the tents and down the path. "You're lucky," Jurra said. "If I was the Chief, I would have killed both of you." "Then it's a good thing you're not the Chief." Hector retorted. As they walked down the hill, they passed the decapitated heads of the Canid. They watched as the travellers descended, rotten heads forced to stare at the barren landscape for all of eternity. "Careful with that tongue of yours, commander," Jurra said. "Anything can happen on the road to Deltrada. Especially to a pair of Canids walking alone." Hector ignored the threat. They walked back down the road, approaching the group of five Ermehn that he had snuck past before. They came to a stop and fell silent, frowning at the sight of the two Canid. "Hey, hey!" The leader said. "What you two doing with the Canids? Ain't that the lieutenant we was interrogating?" "The Chief's letting them go. They're helping us." "Shame. Ain't nothing better than a dead Canid." The leader's group murmured in agreement. Jurra nodded as they walked past. Hector felt the patrol group glare at him as he led Lieutenant Volhim around the corner. One of them spat at the ground, shaking their head. [[They approached the aftermath of the ambush->Damp Corpses]].

The damp corpses of the two Ermehn Hector had slain lay beside the body of the soldier he had spoken to. Jurra saw them, turning to Hector. "You killed them, didn't you?" "I did what I had to do. You can't blame me for that." She scoffed. "Shedding blame whenever you can. You really are a Canid, aren't you?" Hector didn't know how to respond to that. Jurra led them on. They walked down the road for several silent minutes, back the direction in the patrol had come. Hector glanced to Moltreig and Vyra's corpses. A part of him wanted to take them home and have them buried on Aisling's soil. But he knew that he couldn't push his luck further than he already had. They curved with the road through the barren wildnerness, enduring the ceaseless barrage from above. After tens of metres, Jurra stopped them and turned. "Keep following the road South. That'll lead you to Deltrada." Hector nodded, silent. Jurra began to walk away, gesturing for Loshi to follow, but stopped. She made eye contact with Hector. "Don't ever think of coming back here, //commander//." Hector didn't answer. She let her warning hang in the air as she and her counterpart walked back down the road towards their camp, disappearing into the rain. He watched them leave, standing still to allow reality to sink in. They had done it. They had survived. "We did it, sir. We're alive. I know the others didn't make it like...like Vyra, but...they didn't die in vain." The lieutenant mumbled something. "What, sir?" "You made a deal with them." The way the lieutenant said it made Hector sound like a criminal. He was quick to denounce such an accusation. "Only to keep us alive, sir. I didn't say anything treasonous, did I?" Lieutenant Volhim fell silent for a few seconds, thinking, before surrendering with a grunt. "I'll give you that. It was...smart thinking, I suppose." Hector looked ahead and continued down the road, leading them back to [[Deltrada->Deltrada 2]].

After three days of travelling through the ceaseless rain, stopping regularly to take shelter, they arrived back home. As Hector traversed the open grounds before the mighty Deltrada Garrison, he waved to the guards on the walkways. Canid soldiers peered over the walls as he approached, one ready with a bow and arrow. "It's us! Hector Thornvallis and Lieutenant Volhim! We're back from patrol!" He heard echoing cries of his names from the guards, relaying the information to those operating the doors. They heaved open as they advanced, allowing two soldiers to hurry out towards them. "Easy sir, easy!" One said, taking the lieutenant from Hector. "We'll take it from here. Come on in, quick." "What happened, Hector?" The second said. "We were ambushed. Killed everyone and captured the lieutenant. I survived. Vyra saved me but..." Hector's ears wilted. "She didn't make it." The second soldier gave a solemn nod and bowed his head in her memory. "I'm sorry, Hector. I know you two were close." "Yeah, well...it's done now." Hector, remembering Vyra's sacrifice, followed the two soldiers into the courtyard. As the doors swung shut behind them, he saw the same bustling activity he had become so accustomed to. He saw the hardworking omegas carrying out their tasks at the forge, distributing weaponry and supplies across the garrison. He saw recruits training, chanting in unison with passion and loyalty in their hearts. He saw officers patrolling the grounds, commanding their troops. He saw the place he had called home but...somehow, he didn't see it through the same eyes. After all he had seen, [[he didn't know if this was the heroic battlement he had always thought it to be->Doubting]].

Hector followed the soldiers to a nearby officer, ignoring the glances he received from those scrutinisng his tarnished uniform and unkempt fur. "Lieutenant Norlas, sir," The first soldier said. "The patrol have returned. Lieutenant Norlas, a blonde Canid officer that stood before a regiment of Canid soldiers in the middle of pushups, turned to face the new arrivals. His eyes widened at the sight of the injured Lieutenant Volhim and the muddied Hector. "Soldier!" He called to a subordinate. "Take over for me!" "Yes, sir!" They chanted. "All right, pups! Keep going! Hey, you at the back, I didn't tell you to stop!" Lieutenant Norlas hurried over, two other soldiers following him. He surveyed the two survivors again, faced contorted in confusion. His ears twitched and his tail flicked. "I don't follow. What happened? Where are the rest of the patrol?" "They didn't make it, sir," Hector said. "We were ambushed. Ermehn tribe. They killed everyone and captured Lieutenant Volhim. I survived, went back and got him out. We barely escaped." "//All// of you? Not another survivor?" Hector hesitated before answering, Vyra's corpse flashing in front of him. "They were all dead when I came to, sir. I did what I could." Lieutenant Norlas sighed. "That...is a great shame. Those bloodthirsty savages are nothing but trouble to civilised Dunia. We'll get them back ten-fold for what they did to us. Now, soldier, get Lieutenant Volhim to a doctor." The soldier led Lieutenant Volhim away, guiding him slowly towards the keep, when the lieutenant spoke. "[[Wait, wait...->Sabotage]]"

Lieutenant Norlas turned to Lieutenant Volhim. "What is it, lieutenant?" "That tribe...killed everyone. They're up in the hills...not too far from here. You need to send a patrol...a //bigger// patrol...and kill all of them. Every last one." Hector's ears fell upon hearing such a vehement order. He averted his gaze in shame as he stabbed the tribe in the back, leaving them a target for a raid. He had seen their suffering. He had seen how they were just ordinary people trying to survive. How his people had forced such a brutal way of living upon the Ermehn. Yet, despite all that, he had done nothing. He should have spoken the truth. "Of course, I'll see to it that these criminals are driven out from their hiding place," Lieutenant Norlas said. "We'll avenge your patrol, Lieutenant Volhim. For now, however, you need to rest. Guard, as you were." The soldier nodded and guided Lieutenant Volhim away, directing him back to the keep. Hector followed the lieutenant with his eyes. As cruel it sounded, he began to regret rescuing the lieutenant. "Now, Hector, are you hurt?" "No sir, I'm...I'm fine. Just a gash on my head." "Luckier than the others, I see." "Yeah...luckier." "Well, it is good to see you're still alive. Go to one of the doctors and get that wound patched up. Then get washed and take these two days off from duty. After all you've been through, you need it." Hector nodded, solemn. "I will, sir. Thank you." Lieutenant Norlas patted him on the shoulder and returned to his cohort of recruits, bellowing orders and berating slackers. The guards followed, murmuring condolences and congratulations for returning the lieutenant. [[Hector was left alone->Regret]].

He had survived the ordeal. He had faced down a tribal chief that beheaded and skinned Canid. He had convinced him to let them go unharmed and without delay. He, in his own way, had been a hero. But he didn't feel like one. He glanced around, observing the training soldiers. He watched them fight and exercise, chanting in unison. He watched them fire arrows and swing swords. He watched them prepare to slay Ermehn in tornados of metal and valour, serving King Janus and Aisling. Once upon a time, he had regarded such people as heroes and veterans. Now? Now he saw the naive and the hateful. He saw those who would be sent to massacre a camp of Ermehn just because they were told to. He turned to face the gates. Beyond them, beyond the guarded walls of Deltrada Garrison, that camp resided in the hills. Its people carried out their lives in the hope of salvation - in the hope of safe passage to kinder lands. And all they would be met with was cruel steel and cruel hearts. "I should have spoken the truth..." He muttered. "I should have told them to relocate." Maybe there was time. Maybe, somehow, he could send that message to the camp and warn them of the incoming Canid. Admit that he had lied to them to escape. But not only was that unlikely to happen, such an action would also guide the Chief he betrayed to slaughter his own people. With sullen eyes and a weakened soul, [[he turned away and trudged towards the keep->A Survivor's Ending]].

A SURVIVOR'S ENDING Through your ordeal, you bested reoccurring encounters with certain death. You faced the odds and stood triumphant. You lived to see another day. But is that all you hoped to achieve? Survival? Did you not think beyond the parameters of your own wellbeing? Of your own situation? For better or for worse, these are the choices you made. [[Has this outcome satisfied you->Finale]]? [[Or do you hear the distant beckon of other paths left untrodden->This is Where the Tale Begins]]?

Hector's voice cut through the commotion of the interrogation. The Chief and his subordinate both turned to face him. Lieutenant Volhim followed their gaze and found his rescuer standing there, squaring off against the behemoth and his tribe. Mothers gasped at the sight of the muddied Canid and yanked their young away, retreating to the cave. "Over here!" The subordinate yelled, breaking free from his stupor. "I've got another Canid over here!" Within seconds, the other soldiers hurried to the commotion. Three guards hurried in from the back of the camp, including the archer Hector had seen on the cliff edge. They reinforced their leader, eyes focused on the Canid. Two more arrived from the entrance, appearing from Hector's left with blades drawn. Two more appeared from the right, summoned from the cave by the cry for help and the sudden panic. Hector Thornvallis faced nine armed Ermehn warriors, all of which wore sacks over their heads and aimed their blades at him. The archer levelled their bow at his head, arrow loaded. "You idiot," Lieutenant Volhim said. "You should have run away. I wouldn't have told them anything!" "I'm not leaving you, sir," Hector said. "Not now. I'd rather die than run away." With such a statement being uttered, the Chief stepped forwards from the ranks. He drew his axe from his belt and held it loosely in one paw, dangling it by his side. "You've made a big mistake walking in here. Your lieutenant is right - you should have ran while you had the chance." "I'm not leaving without him." "You're not in a position to make demands. You're outnumbered. If you so much as breathe in a way I don't like, you'll be dead before you even realise it." Hector glanced to the archer. Their focused gaze told him they wouldn't hesitate to fire at a moment's notice if told to do so. He found the same glares to be emanating from all the other Ermehn surrounding him, shifting from hind paw to hind paw in anticipation. Hector's eyes fell upon the lieutenant. His superior met his gaze with a look that pitied him - a look that reminded him that his presence at the camp was nothing but a mistake. That there was nothing to be gained. There was something to be gained. The question was, what was he trying to gain? Was he pursuing [[peace's mellow embrace->Peace 2]]? Or was he pursuing victory in [[a flurry of blood and steel->Flurry of Blood 2]]?

After all he had seen, Hector didn't know if he could bring himself to fight the tribe. They were starving and on the brink of falling apart. They lived in poverty and squalor. Despite all those they had killed...despite murdering Vyra and Moltreig and beheading many of his brethren...he knew that the Chief's brutality was the only way that the tribe could survive the wastes. "I don't want to fight. I want to help you." "Is that so?" The Chief said. "And why would a Canid want to help us?" "Because you've suffered out here. Suffered enough. You're ordinary people like anyone else in Dunia. Why should you be subject to all of this pain?" "I don't believe you for a second. You have no reason to want to help us. You just want us to lower our guard so you can come back and kill us all." Hector could sense the situation was beginning to spiral out of control. He attempted to pacify the Chief, softening his tone. "You have every right to distrust me. After all that's happened, I understand. But I can help you." "Help us with what, then?" The Chief said. "What do you plan on helping us with?" At that precise moment, Hector realised that he had no idea how to help the tribe. He froze, mouth open but no words following. The Chief waited, narrowing his eyes and gripping his axe harder. His subordinates kept their weapons raised, the archer shifting position. "Uh, I-I could help you hunt. Help you find food. Food keeps us alive, right? It sustains us. If you have more of it, your tribe will grow. It will adapt." Hector believed this suggestion to be a reasonable idea. However, as the Chief began to chuckle and shake his head, he felt he hadn't convinced him. Hector's ears flopped down and his tail curled. "You Canid banish us here to a land with barely any food and then tell us the problem is that we're not good at hunting?" The Chief said. "That is so typical of your kind. Not even the best of Dunia's hunters could find food out here. No, the problems we face, that keep our families up at night, are because of you. And there is only one way to solve these problems." Hector didn't have time to react as the Chief [[brought his arms back and hurled the axe at him with all the force he could summon->Axe Throw]].

"You've suffered out here. There's no denying how much torture your people have faced throughout the years. It's terrible." Hector reached for his sword and reaided his shield. The Ermehn tensed. "But I have my people to look after, too. I have a duty. One that I can't sacrifice right now." The Chief shook his head. "Is that duty worth dying for?" "I guess we'll find out." As the archer fired, Hector raised his shield. The arrow struck the steel perimeter and deflected, bouncing harmlessly into the mud. "Kill him!" The Chief yelled. The eight close-range Ermehn let out a cry and charged from all sides, swinging and stabbing. Deflecting his flank wih the shield, Hector darted back and swung with a snarl. He felt the blade cut through the side of an Ermehn's neck, sending them to the ground in a fit of crimson, writhing and choking. "You'll pay for that!" "You ain't leaving this hill with that pelt, Canid!" Hector knew he could best the Ermehn in close combat. The years of training he had endured weren't for nothing. He stood with a flawless stance and moved with purpose, every minor movement deliberate and agile. The Ermehn were sloppy and inexperienced, swinging as if they were heaving sacks of rocks. As long as he remained wary of the archer lurking at the back and the Chief, [[he had a chance of surviving the fray->The Battle]].

Hector gasped as the axe head burrowed into his chest and punctured his armour. He stood motionless for a moment, eyes wide and body taut in pain, before he fell to his knees. His shield and sword fell from him, clattering to the dirt. Looking down, he saw crimson begin to pour and mingle with the copious amounts of mud splattered across his front. He trembled in pain. He tried to scream but he could only croak and gargle as blood dribbled down from the corners of his mouth, staining his fur. The Chief walked towards him. "Your people lied to us before. To my father and his fathers. And all that we have gotten from your 'help' is dead family members and a shrinking tribe." Grabbing hold of the axe, the Chief ripped it out and kicked Hector back. He fell, sprawling out and looking up at the sky. He rasped and wheezed, twitching in agony. The Chief readied his axe. "On behalf of all those who have fallen to Canid lies...allow me to return the favour." With a barbaric cry, the Chief raised the axe and [[beheaded Hector in one swift motion->Perished 7]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your duty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Addressing the Chief 2]]

One Ermehn charged with a spear, aiming it at Hector's chest to skewer his heart. A second swung from the left, aiming for his neck to behead him in one swing. Deflecting the spear with his shield, he turned on the enemy to his left and parried the attack. He slashed at their chest, leaving a bloodied gash, and then hit them in the side of the head with their shield. They crashed into an ally, collapsing in a heap of Ermehn fur, kilt and metal. "I ain't scared of killing you!" One soldier yelled, charging with a longsword. Hector quickly dispatched the new threat by sidestepping the swing, bringing his shield arm back and thrusting it into their face. He heard the //crack// of their nose breaking as the metal star collided against their face, sending them reeling back whilst screaming. He thrusted his sword into their side and killed them, ripping it out and turning to block the next attack. The two soldiers he had knocked down hurried back to their hind paws, rejoining the fray. "Dirty Canid!" One brought back their club and swung for his head. He ducked and stabbed up into their chest, close to their collarbone. They went stiff in pain and shrieked, clutching the sword, before sliding off it as Hector drew it back out. As he readied himself, he quickly scanned the skirmish's vicinity. Five Ermehn soldiers remained, with the Chief looming at the back of them. He saw the archer aiming for him, a gap forming between two Ermehn. "Your head is ours, now!" An Ermehn cried, hurrying forward and swiping with her blade. Hector, in that split second, was confronted by two dangers. Either he [[parried the blow and shoved the Ermehn into the line of fire->Archer]], or [[he dodged the swing and disappeared into cover again->Evasion]].

Hector parried the blow with his shield, clashing against the blade. The Ermehn pushed with all her might, trying to force her way through his defence, but it didn't work. Heaving, Hector pushed her into the line of fire, blocking the archer's line of sight and turning to face more prevalent threats. As the arrow entered his lower back, he found that he had underestimated the ability of the archer. They shifted their aim and fired over the shoulder of the stumbling Ermehn, embedding an arrow in his lower back. Hector yelped and staggered, caught off-guard by the surge of pain emanating from where he had been struck. His guard lowered for a second and, as it did, one of the Ermehn soldiers took their chance. They thrusted their blade into Hector's stomach. He gasped, eyes wide and keeled over. The sword and shield fell from his loose paws, his body trembling. He reached for the Ermehn's face, trying to fight whilst severely wounded, but was no match. They slid their sword back out and let him fall to the ground, rasping and coughing. "Let 'em have it!" All the Ermehn raised their weapons and brought them down in unison, unleashing a barrage of sharpened blades upon the dying Canid. Hector yelped and screamed as the first few blades tore into his side and back, puncturing him, but seconds later all he could manage against the insurmountable pain were grunts and gasps. Seconds later, Hector Thornvallis lay dead in the mud, blood pouring from the numerous wounds he had sustained. That didn't stop the Ermehn from continuing their onslaught, [[repeatedly burying their weapons into his back->Perished 8]].

Hector stepped back out the arc of the Ermehn's swing. The archer fired and the arrow whizzed by, tearing through one of the tents and disappearing inside. Standing by the Ermehn's flank, he thrust the sword into her side. She screamed as it tore through her, collapsing to the ground whilst moaning and grunting in pain. "Jurra, no!" One of the remaining four said. "You'll pay for that!" The Ermehn Hector had left a gash on attacked again, bringing the sword down. Deflecting, he kicked them back and slashed. A far more grievous wound sat upon their chest, bleeding profusely. The Ermehn stumbled, swinging wildly, and then collapsed onto their side. "Loshi!" An Ermehn called. "Damn it!" "Kill this fool already!" "You ain't tough, Canid! You ain't lived out here like we have!" Three Ermehn and the archer remained. Hector could see whatever confidence they had possessed at the start of the battle had dwindled signficantly. They were twitchy and hesitant, reluctant to throw themselves into the fray. Hector stood ready, not letting overconfidence seized him. The archer fired but he raised his shield, blocking the shot that would have embedded itself in his throat. He was mindful of the Chief that lurked only two metres away. The combat zone was far too clustered for the behemoth to swing his axe without the risk of killing his own warriors. Two Ermehn converged at once, one from both sides. Hector's attention was divided between three sides - the archer, his left and his right. There was a chance that he could [[block one side and then turn to block the other->Pivot]], using that small window of opportunity to pivot. Alternatively, he could [[dive out the way altogether and take a moment to recover->Recover]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->The Battle]]

Hector yelled out and turned left, shield raised. The Ermehn's blade clashed against the reinforced wood, unable to penetrate. He turned to break away and confront the other attacker, left with a millisecond to spare. The Ermehn he was fighting grabbed the shield, holding him in place. Immobilised, he could do nothing as the blade embedded itself in his spine. Hector swore in pain, falling to his knees as the pain shot through his body. His sword and shield fell away from him, landing in the mud. He felt the Ermehn attacker clamber onto his back, one paw grabbing the front of his uniform whilst the other pulled out the blade. He yelled as the blade re-entered, finding a new home inches from the one it had inhabited before. Hector struggled all he could but it was a battle he couldn't hope to win. The Ermehn, screaming, repeatedly stabbed him in the back. They left wound after wound there, blood staining the back of his uniform. Seconds passed. The fight in him, along with his life, faded. His arms slackened and his eyes glazed over, staring ahead. He slumped to the mud, lifeless and limp. The Ermehn held their blade in the air, panting as they looked down at Hector Thornvallis' corpse, and then broke free of their hesitation by stabbing him in the neck. [[For good measure, of course->Perished 9]].

Hector dove out the way of the two Ermehn, landing on his side. The archer fired, missing his head by inches as it burrowed into the dirt beside him. He scrambled to his hind paws as the three remaining attackers converged, weapons raised. With the trio blocking the archer's line of sight, he didn't fear the sudden sting of an arrow. He swiped with his sword and cut down one of the soldiers, summoning a despaired scream from them. "Die already!" The two remaining soldiers swung wildly, hoping to catch Hector unaware or strike a limb and leave him vulnerable. Experience told him to wait out such a tornado, to backpedal until he saw a lapse in their attack. He did just that, darting left and right whilst holding back. Seconds later, as the two of them thrusted their swords into the mud in failed attempts to hit him, he striked. The first fell with a clean slice to the ribs. Hector grimaced as the sword slid into the Ermehn's side, cutting through flesh. They screamed and fell from the blade, collapsing onto their side and falling still. The second abandoned their weapon and swung with their paw, hoping to send Hector reeling back. With ease, he sidestepped the swing and stabbed into their torso. They keeled over the sword, gripping it to try and disarm him, but Hector shoved them off. They slumped to the floor, breathing their last. He raised his shield. //Thunk//. The archer fired an arrow into his shield. It protruded from its wooden surface, embedded in the panelling. Hector locked eyes with the archer and saw them reach for another arrow in their quiver, reloading. Their paw closed on an empty quiver, going taut in realisation. In that moment, Hector knew he could [[press the advantage and kill them there->Charge]]. It would take a second, maybe two, if he sprinted for them at full speed. But something nagged at him to [[leave them be->Leave Them]]. They were an unarmed combatant and the Chief now had the room he needed to join the fight. He needed to prioritise.

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Evasion]].

Lowering himself down an inch, Hector charged forwards with sword raised and shield lowered. The Chief attempted to intercept, swinging at his neck with his axe, but he darted out the way of the swing and kept advancing. The archer stumbled back a step, left vulnerable and defenceless. That was until they dropped their bow, slid a dagger out from their belt and hurled it at him. He didn't have time to raise his shield. With a gargle, the knife landed between his eyes. He flopped down into the mud and rolled, the momentum carrying him an extra metre before he came to a stop at their hind paws. The archer knelt down and reached for their dagger, meeting Hector Thornvallis' lifeless eyes. "Monster." She muttered. [[She tore the knife out of his head and sheathed it->Perished 10]].

Knowing they were no longer a threat, he turned to the hulking behemoth that was the Chief. He raised his shield and readied his sword. "No one else has to die, Chief. Let the lieutenant go and then this is over." The Chief scoffed and glanced to the archer. She was reaching for her belt, paw clamped on the grip of a dagger. "Go to the cave. Get all the mothers and their young to the havens at the back. Barricade the entrances and don't open for anyone." The archer hesitated, unwilling to abandon their leader. "I said go! I'll deal with this situation." Glaring at Hector, the archer sheathed their dagger and ran a wide berth around him. He kept his eyes on them, shifting his gaze from the Chief to the archer. She hurried away and disappeared inside the caves, directing the families away. "You just killed eight of my tribe..." The Chief said, gripping his axe. "I didn't want it to be this way. I have a duty to my people, just like you do!" "Your people aren't starving and on the verge of extinction, Canid. I think our priorities are very different." Hector paused. There had been enough bloodshed. Far more than he had desired and far more than he thought he could have stomached back. "We can still solve this without any more deaths. There's still room for diplomacy." "Indeed there is." The Chief twirled his axe in one paw with the skill of a veteran, tossing it to his other paw and catching it. Hector winced, expecting an attack. "[[//Ermehn// diplomacy->Ermehn Diplomacy]]."

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Recover]]

A roar rising from his throat, the Chief took one stride forwards and swung his axe. Hector raised his shield to block the incoming blow and stumbled back as the force knocked his arm away, tearing a piece of wood from the shield. The Chief swung again and Hector was barely ready to block another attack, reeling back. "You should have run back when you had the chance, Canid. You should have scampered off to Deltrada with your tail between your legs!" Hector swung. The Chief jerked his shoulder back and evaded the attack with ease, letting his enemy stumble forwards and almost topple into the mud. Rebalancing, Hector turned as the Chief raised his axe and brought it down. He brought his shield up and yelped as an insurmountable force clashed against it, pushing him back. Hector glared into the Chief's face. There he saw anger - a burning desire to avenge those that had fallen before him. Under any other circumstance, Hector would have sympathised with the plight of the Ermehn. He would have found another way. Now, however, he could only fight. The Chief shoved him away. Hector staggered, regaining balance, and stabbed forwards. With nothing more than a flick of his arm, the large Ermehn knocked away the attack and kicked. Hector tripped on a corpse and fell into the mud, landing on his back. He rolled, arriving on his hind paws and swinging again. Overpowering, the Chief grabbed his swinging arm by the wrist with his free paw. He kicked at Hector's shield arm and knocked the shield into the mud, leaving him defenceless. As the Chief raised the axe to decapitate him, Hector knew he had two opitions before him. He could attempt to [[overpower the brute->Overpower]], catching his swinging arm and holding him back, or he could [[throw himself at the Chief->Tackle]] to interrupt his swing.

Hector caught the Chief's arm as it brought the axe towards his neck, resisting. He grunted and growled, clamping his eyes shut and pushing back against the overwhelming force with all his power. The Chief shook his head. "All of this prestige...yet you Canids aren't nearly as strong as everyone says you are." The Chief brought his head back and slammed it into Hector's forehead. The sudden headbutt forced Hector's eyes open, making him yelp as a newfound stabbing pain emanated from his gash. His grip on the swinging arm loosened, fighting to maintain his hold. The Chief headbutted him again. He gasped, ears ringing and knees beginning to buckle. In desperation, he slammed one knee up into the gut of the behemoth in the hopes of interrupting his series of attacks. Other than summoning a low grunt, it did nothing. With a roar, the Chief slammed his head into his. Hector's knees failed him and he collapsed onto them, losing grip on the swinging arm. The world spun around him and his ears rang, distorting all sound. Before he could come to his senses, the Chief swung his axe at his neck and took his head clean off his shoulders. Hector Thornvallis' body slumped to the ground, rolling over onto its back. His head landed in the mud half a metre away, a look of pain and surprise left etched in his expression. His glacial eyes were wide and his mouth hung open, jaw slackened. The Chief marched over and reached down for the head, lifting it up. He turned the head of the Canid to him, staring into the empty eyes. Mud caked the left side of his face, having landed on that side. He turned to face Lieutenant Volhim and tossed Hector's head to him. It landed in the mud and rolled to a stop just before the captive, face caked in mud and lifeless eyes looking up at Lieutenant Volhim. "We both take heads, lieutenant. [[I just manage to take more of them->Perished 11]]."

Snarling, Hector threw himself at the Chief. He collided against his chest, pushing with all his might, and felt the behemoth slide back in the mud. Stumbling, the Chief's swing missed and cut through the air behind Hector. "You are stubborn, Canid, I will give you that!" As he raised his axe to bring it down on Hector's back, the Canid drew back out of the embrace and raised his sword. The two weapons met with a //clang//, deflecting off one another. The Chief swung with his other arm in an attempt to strike Hector in the side of the head and disorient him, missing as he ducked beneath the blow. Hector brought the sword back and thrusted it at the Chief's exposed stomach, driving it forward with all the force he could muster. //Clang//. The Chief's axe intercepted the blade, holding it back. "I hope your duty is worth dying for." Overpowering him, he shoved the clashing weapons up into the air. Hector struggled to maintain his grip on the sword, the Chief reaching far higher than he could, and it was with a widening of the eyes that he felt the sword slip away from him. It landed to his right, discarded in the mud. Before Hector could run to it, the Chief kicked him in the chest. The force behind the blow knocked him onto his back, sending him sprawling in the mud. Hector scrambled up as the Chief stormed forwards, raising his axe. "I would rather die a thousand deaths than surrender to my oppressors!" Hector, in that moment, could dive to the left or the right. Remaining where he was led to certain death - he knew that. Either he could dive for the [[shield->Knock Out]] to his left or the [[sword->Kill The Chief]] to deal with his adversary.

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Ermehn Diplomacy]]

Hector threw himself left as the axe carved down through the air, avoiding death by millimetres. He landed by the damaged shield and hurriedly scooped it up, turning with it raised towards the Chief. "That shield won't save you from your punishment, Canid." He swung. It clashed against the shield, knocking Hector back a step. "The justice for those you have killed shall always find its way!" He swung again. Hector grunted as part of the shield snapped off, landing in the mud. He didn't know how much more the shield could take. "Accept your fate! It is inevitable!" The Chief brought the axe down. It slammed against the shield, knocking Hector to his knees. He stabilised with one paw against the ground, preventing himself from toppling onto his back. As the Chief raised his axe with a roar, Hector seized his chance. With a surge of adrenaline-fuelled energy, Hector shot up shield-first and struck the Chief in the face. //Clonk//. "Gah!" The Chief reeled back, one paw up to his face. Stunned, he could do nothing as Hector grabbed the axe in his other paw and ripped it from him. He recovered and stood before Hector, removing the paw from his face. Blood dribbled from his nose, diluted by the rain. "I am right here, Canid. Kill me. I don't need a weapon to defeat you." Hector hesitated. Throughout all of his training, he had been conditioned to not falter. To not consider alternative options or paths when an Ermehn blade only needed a fraction of a second to slice his throat. But, with all the corpses strewn out around him, he didn't know if he could add one more to the death toll. "Your tribe needs you. Alive." Letting out a passionate cry, the Chief thundered forwards with arms outstretched and face taut in rage. With ease, Hector swung his shield into the side of the Chief's head. //Clonk//. The behemoth slumped to the left as the reinforced wood struck his head. His eyes rolled back and his body went limp, flopping down into the mud. Panting, Hector keeled over. He remained still, staring at the ground as the rain berated him. Around him lay the corpses of those he had slain to save the lieutenant, bloodied and covered in mud. Despite the persisting guilty, he didn't dwell on it. He stepped over the unconscious Chief and [[approached Lieutenant Volhim->Escape]], still restrained.

Hector dodged right as the axe cleaved downwards through the air, evading certain death. He crashed into the dirt beside the sword, its blade tainted by a mixture of crimson and mud. Hurrying to his hind paws, he turned with sword ready as the Chief stormed towards him. "I have killed many a Canid before. This is nothing new to me!" He swung. Hector stumbled back, smart enough to not challenge the sheer brawn of the behemoth, and swiped. The sword cut through the air as the Chief dodged left, swinging his axe at Hector's neck. He yanked his head back, retreating a step. "Come on. Fight me! I thought your kind were battle-hardened!" The Chief charged and swung from left and right, attempting to catch Hector out on a single mistake. Death's looming presence forced him to exercise extreme caution, deflecting the odd swing when he could and evading attack after attack. "Face your fate and //die//!" Cutting through the air, the Chief swung at Hector's side. He took the opportunity and ducked down beneath the arc, feeling the axe head sail through the air inches above his ears, and aimed his sword for the behemoth's exposed abdomen. Snarling, he thrust the blade into his stomach. The Chief roared in pain but persisted through it, raising his axe up to embed into the crouching Canid's spine. Hector withdrew the blade and rolled right, arriving beside his enemy. The Chief swung his axe into the mud and fell with it, landing on all-fours. Hector burrowed the sword into his back. Roaring in pain again, the Chief went taut in pain. His paw tightened around the grip of his axe, almost as if he was trying to shatter the wood, but then relaxed. He slumped down onto his side, grunting and growling in pain. Hector slid the sword back out, the Chief's blood dripping from it. "You...have bested me...and my warriors...but..." He met Hector's gaze, his body relaxing and his eyes beginning to dim. "You...shall never...best the...spirit of the...//Ermehn//..." With a shuddering gasp, the Chief rested his head against the mud and stared into the dark sky. Panting, Hector fell to his knees beside the corpse of the Chief. He let his tongue hang from his mouth, raking air in and out, before bowing his head. His ears wilted and his tail stiffened, accompanied by the pang of his gash. //I killed them all//. Shame and guilt introduced themselves but he pushed them away. He had a mission to accomplish. He needed to get Lieutenant Volhim far away before any of the other patrols returned to the camp. Pulling himself together, he got to his hind paws and [[approached the lieutenant->Escape 2]].

"You didn't kill him." The lieutenant said. "Go back and finish the job. Go on." "Not now, sir," He said. "We need to get out of here as quickly as we can. We don't know how many other patrols might be coming back to camp." Grumbling, the lieutenant conceded and waited for Hector to free him. Slicing the ropes with the axe, he freed the lieutenant and lent him his shoulder, helping him up. "Are you okay, sir?" "I'm alive. Good job on fighting ten Ermehn, by the way." Lieutenant Volhim glanced down at the unconscious Chief, snarling. "It's a shame you only killed eight of them." Hector, ignoring the remark, propped up the lieutenant against the tent. He hurried inside, snatching whatever remaining supplies he could find inside. He stuffed them inside a worn leather satchel, hanging it over his shoulder and assuring the contents were shielded from the rain before hurrying back out. "I've got some food," He said, collecting his sword from off the mud. "It's nothing good but it'll stop us from starving on the way back." "I don't need food. All I need is some...Canid steel in my paw." "Not now, sir. You're hurt. Just stay close to me." Surrendering, the lieutenant did as he was told. Hector lent him his shoulder and led them back through the camp, hurrying past the cave entrance and down the hill. He refused to look at the display of Canid heads. "Disgusting barbarians, huh?" Lieutenant Volhim scoffed. "They got what was coming to them." Hector didn't voice his uncertainty. Instead, he hurried down to the bottom of the hill and onto the road. Leading the captive through the rain, he repeatedly glanced behind him to see if any were following. None were. They were probably still hidden at the back of the cave. Hector faced ahead. A part of him wanted to [[sneak through the bushes->Bush Sneak]] in case of a patrol wandering past whilst another part wanted him to [[hurry down the road->Hurry]] and get away from the area as soon as possible.

"Stay quiet," Hector whispered. "I saw a patrol here earlier. They might still be around." He snuck into the bushes, easing the lieutenant down to his knees. They eased their way through the bushes, careful not to rustle the leaves too much, and peered out onto the road. They curved with the river, turning the corner around the rock formation. "Stop." They both froze as they saw the five-Ermehn patrol loitering around the corner, murmuring to each other. One pointed to the corpses of the two Ermehn he had killed earlier, confused and concerned. "Novi went with them too, right?" One of the archers asked. "And he's missing," Another ambusher said. "One of the Canid moved, too. They're not on the bank anymore." "That ain't our fault, that's the first thing," The leader said. "The second thing is that if Novi ain't dead down there, he is fine. Thirdly, and lastly, no Canid will survive the journey home alone. Either pikes will eat them or they'll starve." "You think?" "I don't think so, I know so. Now, come on. Let's head back to camp and quit wasting time around here." The patrol all agreed and walked up the road, returning to the aftermath of Hector's battle at the camp. At the speed they were walking, it would take several minutes for them to arrive at the camp and realise what had happened. It would take several more to hurry back down the hill and scour the nearby land for any sign of him and the lieutenant. They'd be gone soon enough. Hector waited until they were far up the road before hurrying out of the bush, leading the lieutenant down the road as fast as he could without hurting him. They passed the aftermath of the ambush. Hector purposely avoided looking at Vyra's corpse, not wanting to prompt the rise of any despair or anguish. "They killed us all..." Lieutenant Volhim grumbled. "And skinned those who came out here before us." Hector carried them down the road, curving with its slight bend. They travelled ahead for minutes, covering tens of metres in the process. The hills of the camp began to fade into the background and, not too long later, the rain obscured it from view. Panting, Hector came to a stop. He gave himself a moment to realise what had happened. They had made it. They had survived. "We did it, sir. We survived. We're alive." The lieutenant mumbled something. Hector's ears stood. "What, sir?" "Not all of us." "No...not all of us." "And you let the Chief live." Hector assembled a lie quickly. "I told you, sir, there was no point killing him. All it would do is get more blood on my uniform." Satisfied, the lieutenant fell silent. Hector, with a final glance around them to make sure they weren't being pursued, [[led the lieutenant back to Deltrada->Deltrada 3]].

"Let's move quickly, sir. We don't want anyone tailing us." Hector hurried along the road, heaving the lieutenant along with him. He scanned his surroundings, making sure they weren't being followed, before he focused ahead. They approached the slight bend in the road, following the river around the rock formation. He turned. A second later, he froze. "Oh, you've got to be kidding." Lieutenant Volhim said. The five-Ermehn patrol gawked at the new arrivals, momentarily shocked to see the two Canids fleeing down the road. They all glanced at each other, stunned. Then they all drew their weapons. "Look what he have here!" Their leader said. "Our visitor trying to run home before we've had a good talk with him." Hector took a step back, pivoting so his body shielded the lieutenant and raising his sword. The Ermehn chuckled at such a gesture, advancing. "Ain't that nice," The leader said. "I'm //real// scared." Hector growled, trying to force them back, but he couldn't. He saw the two archers aiming their weapons at his head, eyes narrowed with malicious intent. "Be a good Canid and drop the weapons," The leader said. "Or we ain't gonna be nice." Hector took in his situation. He was trapped in the middle of open land, with five Ermehn standing before them. He had faced down nine of their comrades that were equally tenacious and brutal but he had only faced one archer. Now, he faced two. And he had the added burden of the lieutenant with him. "I can see it in your eyes. You're scared. Come on. Ain't got all day now, do we?" Hector, swearing, dropped the sword and shield. "Kick them away and drop your friend." He kicked them away and lowered the lieutenant down to the ground. "Now, step away from your friend." He stepped away, leaving the lieutenant sitting in the mud. The leader walked towards him with a confident stride, smiling with his eyes. "You see? Canids and Ermehn can get along //just fine//, right?" He grabbed Hector by the collar and raised his club. "Sleep tight." Hector could only sit still as the Ermehn hit him over the head with the club, [[knocking him unconscious->Darkness 2]].

Hector could only groan as he opened his eyes. Seconds of dazed confusion passed as he found himself sitting inside a dark cavern, the light of the mantled torch illuminating the glistening walls of rock and stone. They had knocked him out. //Lieutenant Volhim.// As he went to stand, he found his arms held in place above his head. He looked up and found his wrists to be shackled to the wall above him, unable to be freed. Looking down, he found his ankles to be chained to a metal nail diagonally to his left, keeping him in a sitting position. He was trapped. He struggled. A chorus of jangling chains echoed throughout the cave, cutting through the silence. Hector felt himself panic, grunting and snarling as he attempted to brute-force his way to freedom. The shackles were far from lenient. His ears stood and he stopped struggling. He looked right towards a hole in the wall and heard someone walking in his direction, padding through the silent cave tunnels. Seconds of dread passed, frozen in fear. The Chief's tall figure stepped out from the darkness and into the light of the torch, his back matted in dried mud. He held a brown sack of unknown items in one clenched paw, the contents clanking inside with every jostle of the bag. Hector could see the two dried crimson trails from each of the Chief's nostrils, appearing as merely dark lines in the dim light. Silence followed, only interrupted by the crackling of the mantled torch. The Chief's face was in shadow, turned away from the light. Dropping the bag, he reached to his belt. "A present to you. For killing my people." He dropped something to the ground before Hector. [[Hector looked down at the item->Skinned 2]], squinting to see what it was in the dim light of the cave.

Hector realised he was staring at Lieutenant Volhim's bloodied pelt. With panicked eyes, he looked back up at the Chief. "You...you..." "Took his pelt, yes, as well as his head. A good reminder of what happens to your kind out here in the wastes." Terror rendered Hector speechless. He couldn't understand what he was looking at. He had seen these people to be suffering Ermehn - a tribe struggling to find a way of life out in the Northern Wastes. He had seen disgraced people. He had seen a desperation to survive. But, as he looked into the Chief's eyes, he saw an overwhelming desire to achieve vengeance for his slain people. "I killed them because I needed to rescue my lieutenant," Hector said. "I have a duty." "Your 'duty' is the enforcement of tyranny upon my people. Always has been. And, when you can't enforce it, you kill us to dominate." He leant in. "Just like you killed Jurra...Loshi...Gheran...so many innocent people with families. What were they guilty of? Guilty of not //dying// like you wanted them to? Of not surrendering to the iron paw of your generals who think of us as mere //insects//?" Hector couldn't answer such a question. He could only stare at Lieutenant Volhim's pelt as the Chief reached into the bag, kneeling in front of him. "I usually have Gheran and Loshi do this but, after all that's happened, it falls upon me now." He withdrew a crude, rusted blade. Hector's ears fell and his eyes widened, fixated on the blade. "A mere soldier like you knows nothing that I value. You cannot answer my questions...but, you can still help me fulfill my duty." He rested the blade on Hector's ankle. Hector tensed, panting. "Just like you have a duty, I have mine. And, right now, my duty is to ensure all those you killed are avenged." The Canid began to cry, trembling. "P-Please don't...please...I'm sorry, I-I...just kill me. Please." The Chief, readying the blade, met Hector's wet eyes. "Mercy is a commodity that you do not deserve." As the inhabitants of the camp buried their fellow tribe members on the hillside, [[Hector Thornvallis' screams of agony echoed from within the cave and across the Northern Wastes->Perished 12]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Escape]]

After three days of travelling through the ceaseless rain, stopping regularly to take shelter, they arrived back home. As Hector traversed the open grounds before the mighty Deltrada Garrison, he waved to the guards on the walkways. Canid soldiers peered over the walls as he approached, one ready with a bow and arrow. "It's us! Hector Thornvallis and Lieutenant Volhim! We're back from patrol!" He heard echoing cries of his names from the guards, relaying the information to those operating the doors. They heaved open as they advanced, allowing two soldiers to hurry out towards them. "Easy sir, easy!" One said, taking the lieutenant from Hector. "We'll take it from here. Come on in, quick." "What happened, Hector?" The second said. "We were ambushed. Killed everyone and captured the lieutenant. I survived. Vyra saved me but..." Hector's ears wilted. "She didn't make it." The second soldier gave a solemn nod and bowed his head in her memory. "I'm sorry, Hector. I know you two were close." "Yeah, well...it's done now." Hector, remembering Vyra's sacrifice, followed the two soldiers into the courtyard. As the doors swung shut behind them, he saw the same bustling activity he had become so accustomed to. He saw the hardworking omegas carrying out their tasks at the forge, distributing weaponry and supplies across the garrison. He saw recruits training, chanting in unison with passion and loyalty in their hearts. He saw officers patrolling the grounds, commanding their troops. He saw the place he called home but...somehow, he didn't see it through the same eyes. After all he had seen...after all those he had killed...[[he didn't know if this was the heroic battlement he had always thought it to be->Doubting 2]].

Hector followed the soldiers to a nearby officer, ignoring the glances he received from those scrutinisng his tarnished uniform and unkempt fur. "Lieutenant Norlas, sir," The first soldier said. "The patrol have returned." Lieutenant Norlas, a grey Canid officer that stood before a regiment of Canid soldiers in the middle of pushups, turned to face the new arrivals. His eyes widened at the sight of the injured Lieutenant Volhim and the muddied Hector. "Soldier!" He called to a subordinate. "Take over for me!" "Yes, sir!" They chanted. "All right, pups! Keep going! Hey, you at the back, I didn't tell you to stop!" Lieutenant Norlas hurried over, two other soldiers following him. He surveyed the two survivors again, faced contorted in confusion. His ears twitched and his tail flicked. "I don't follow. What happened? Where are the rest of the patrol?" "They didn't make it, sir," Hector said. "We were ambushed. Ermehn tribe. They killed everyone and captured Lieutenant Volhim. I survived, went back and got him out. We barely escaped." "//All// of you? Not another survivor?" Hector hesitated before answering, Vyra's corpse flashing in front of him. "They were all dead when I came to, sir. I went to save the lieutenant and...I killed ten Ermehn, sir." Lieutenant Norlas' eyes widened. "//Ten// of them? Did you bring their heads?" Hector felt a hint of disgust to such a response. The idea of bringing a head back to the garrison and having it mounted on the wall had once been a dream of his military career. Now? He couldn't think of anything worse. "No, I didn't. I didn't have the time." "A shame. I am inclined to believe you, regardless. For such heroic efforts and the successful rescue of Lieutenant Volhim, you could be looking at an award for your service." Hector nodded, feigning pride whilst sheathing his disinterest and shame. "Thank you, sir. I'm honoured." "It is the least I can do. Guard? Have Lieutenant Volhim seen to by a doctor right away. No delay." "Yes, sir." The soldier led Lieutenant Volhim away, guiding him slowly towards the keep, when the lieutenant spoke. "[[Wait, wait->Relaying]]."

Lieutenant Norlas turned to Lieutenant Volhim. "What is it, lieutenant?" "Hector killed a lot of them...I'll give him that. But not all of them. The tribe's chief is still alive and so are the rest of the camp. They're...in the hills. You need to send a patrol...a //bigger// patrol...to deal with them permanently. They killed everyone." Hector lowered his gaze as he remembered the struggling tribe in the hills, destined to be stamped out by Canid might for trying to survive and defend themselves. All those he had killed...for what? Had there been another way? "Of course," Lieutenant Norlas said. "I'll see to it that these criminals are driven out from their hiding place. We'll avenge your patrol, Lieutenant Volhim. For now, however, you need to rest. Guard, as you were." The soldier nodded and guided Lieutenant Volhim away, directing him back to the keep. Hector followed the lieutenant with his eyes. As cruel it sounded, he began to regret rescuing the lieutenant. "Now, Hector, are you hurt?" "No sir, I'm...I'm fine. Just a gash on my head." "Luckier than the others, I see." "Yeah...luckier." "Well, it is good to see you're still alive. Go to one of the doctors and get that wound patched up. Then get washed and take these two days off from duty. After all you've been through, you need it. I'll put in a good word with one of the generals and see to it that you receive a commendation." Hector nodded, solemn. "I will, sir. Thank you." Lieutenant Norlas patted him on the shoulder and returned to his cohort of recruits, bellowing orders and berating slackers. The guards followed, murmuring condolences and congratulations for returning the lieutenant. [[Hector was left alone->Regret 2]].

He had fought his way through several Ermehn defenders, slaying them in order to rescue his lieutenant. He had faced down a tribal chief and bested him in combat, knocking him unconscious and leaving him sprawled out in the mud alongside the corpses of his tribe. To others, his kill count made him worthy of a reward. He didn't see it the same way. Training had glorified the idea of slaying an Ermehn in combat. It had promised commendations and glory for both the killer and Aisling. It had tempted soldiers with the social benefits of taking the head of a savage and adorning it on the walls of Deltrada. It was almost like adding a trophy to the trophy case. Once upon a time, Hector had believed killing an Ermehn to be a glorious deed. That it made him a Canid hero. But now, the guilt said otherwise. After all he had done to the tribe...after he had killed ten of their people...they would now be raided by a larger patrol and stamped out from existence. "I was scared and I could have died," He muttered. "I killed because I had to, not because I wanted to." But that excuse did nothing to relieve the idea that there was another way. Had he done something different, he may have saved the lieutenant without bloodshed. Knowing nothing could be done now, [[he trudged back to the keep and awaited the prestigious award he would receive->A Hero's Ending]].

A HERO'S ENDING Through the clattering and clanging of metal and the adrenaline buzz of combat, you reached the end of such a trial as the victor. You killed those that stood in your path to save an ally, treasuring duty and loyalty over your own life. You would be remembered as a hero for days to come. Your name would be muttered in barracks throughout Deltrada, seeping into nearby outposts in the form of rumours. But was that the only way? Could conflict only be resolved in a torrent of crimson, steel and death? Did you not think about the worth of a sharpened tongue, as well as a sharpened sword? For better or for worse, these are the choices you made. [[Has this outcome satisfied you->Finale]]? [[Or do you hear the distant beckon of other paths left untrodden->This is Where the Tale Begins]]?

"Nice job," The lieutenant grinned. "You got all of them barbarians. None of them left standing." Hector didn't look at the corpses as he freed the lieutenant, trying to hold back the guilt. "You should take their leader's head. Bring it back to Deltrada." "We haven't got time, sir. We've just got to get out of here before the patrol comes back." The lieutenant conceded and waited for Hector to free him. Slicing the ropes with the axe, he freed the lieutenant and lent him his shoulder, helping him up. "Are you okay, sir?" "I'm alive. I'm surprised you are, too, after fighting all of them." He glanced down at the Chief's corpse, scoffing. "Not so tough now, are you?" Hector, ignoring the remark, propped up the lieutenant against the tent. He hurried inside, snatching whatever remaining supplies he could find inside. He stuffed them inside a worn leather satchel, hanging it over his shoulder and assuring the contents were shielded from the rain before hurrying back out. "I've got some food," He said, collecting his sword from off the mud. "It's nothing good but it'll stop us from starving on the way back." "I don't need food. All I need is some...Canid steel in my paw." "Not now, sir. You're hurt. Just stay close to me." Surrendering, the lieutenant did as he was told. Hector lent him his shoulder and led them back through the camp, hurrying past the cave entrance and down the hill. He refused to look at the display of Canid heads. "Disgusting savages. They got what was coming to them, huh?" The lieutenant said. "Honestly...you killing them was mercy compared to what I would have done." Hector suppressed a snarl of disgust at the lieutenant's hatred and, instead, hurried down to the bottom of the hill and onto the road. Leading the captive through the rain, he repeatedly glanced behind him to see if any were following. None were. They probably still hidden at the back of the cave. Hector faced ahead. A part of him wanted to [[sneak through the bushes->Bush Sneak 2]] in case of a patrol wandering past whilst another part wanted him to [[hurry down the road->Hurry 2]] and get away from the area as soon as possible. Away from the massacre at the top of the hill.

"Let's move quickly, sir. We don't want anyone tailing us." Hector hurried along the road, heaving the lieutenant along with him. He scanned his surroundings, making sure they weren't being followed, before he focused ahead. They approached the slight bend in the road, following the river around the rock formation. He turned. A second later, he froze. "Oh, you've got to be kidding." Lieutenant Volhim said. The five-Ermehn patrol gawked at the new arrivals, momentarily shocked to see the two Canids fleeing down the road. They all glanced at each other, stunned. Then they all drew their weapons. "Look what he have here!" Their leader said. "Our visitor trying to run home before we've had a good talk with him." Hector took a step back, pivoting so his body shielded the lieutenant and raising his sword. The Ermehn chuckled at such a gesture, advancing. "Ain't that nice," The leader said. "I'm //real// scared." Hector growled, trying to force them back, but he couldn't. He saw the two archers aiming their weapons at his head, eyes narrowed with malicious intent. "Be a good Canid and drop the weapons," The leader said. "Or we ain't gonna be nice." Hector took in his situation. He was trapped in the middle of open land, with five Ermehn standing before them. He had faced down nine of their comrades that were equally tenacious and brutal but he had only faced one archer. Now, he faced two. And he had the added burden of the lieutenant with him. "I can see it in your eyes. You're scared. Come on. Ain't got all day now, do we?" Hector, swearing, dropped the sword and shield. "Kick them away and drop your friend." He kicked it away and lowered the lieutenant down to the ground. "Now, step away from your friend." He stepped away, leaving the lieutenant sitting in the mud. Arms up in the air, he met the leader's eyes. He saw the same fiery hatred he had seen in the Chief's, this time mixed with some sadistic desire to toy with him. "You Canids ain't all that bad, are you?" The leader said. "You listen well enough. Maybe, once upon a time, you and me could have been good friends." Hector remained calm. He eyed the sword and shield nearby, ready to pounce if needed. But, deep down, he already knew the situation was not in his favour. "What are you going to do? Kill us?" Lieutenant Volhim said. "Not you." The leader pointed to Hector. "[[Him->Shot Dead]]."

"Stay quiet," Hector whispered. "I saw a patrol here earlier. They might still be around." He snuck into the bushes, easing the lieutenant down to his knees. They eased their way through the bushes, careful not to rustle the leaves too much, and peered out onto the road. They curved with the river, turning the corner around the rock formation. "Stop." They both froze as they saw the five-Ermehn patrol loitering around the corner, murmuring to each other. One pointed to the corpses of the two Ermehn he had killed earlier, confused and concerned. "Novi went with them too, right?" One of the archers asked. "And he's missing," Another ambusher said. "One of the Canid moved, too. They're not on the bank anymore." "That ain't our fault, that's the first thing," The leader said. "The second thing is that if Novi ain't dead down there, he is fine. Thirdly, and lastly, no Canid will survive the journey home alone. Either pikes will eat them or they'll starve." "You think?" "I don't think so, I know so. Now, come on. Let's head back to camp and quit wasting time around here." The patrol all agreed and walked up the road, returning to the aftermath of Hector's battle at the camp. At the speed they were walking, it would take several minutes for them to arrive at the camp and realise what had happened. It would take several more to hurry back down the hill and scour the nearby land for any sign of him and the lieutenant. They'd be gone soon enough. Hector waited until they were far up the road before hurrying out of the bush, leading the lieutenant down the road as fast as he could without hurting him. They passed the aftermath of the ambush. Hector purposely avoided looking at Vyra's corpse, not wanting to prompt the rise of any despair or anguish. "They killed us all..." Lieutenant Volhim grumbled. "And skinned those before us." Hector carried them down the road, curving with its slight bend. They travelled ahead for minutes, covering tens of metres in the process. The hills of the camp began to fade into the background and, not too long later, the rain obscured it from view. Panting, Hector came to a stop. He gave himself a moment to realise what had happened. They had made it. They had survived. "We did it, sir. We survived. We're alive." The lieutenant mumbled something. Hector's ears stood. "What, sir?" "Not all of us." "No...not all of us." "But you killed that monster of a leader. So...that's one tribe left vulnerable. It wasn't completely in vain." Hector didn't know how to answer that. How to address the slaughter he had led. The lieutenant fell silent. Hector, with a final glance around them to make sure they weren't being pursued, [[led the lieutenant back to Deltrada->Deltrada 4]].

As Hector turned to grab the sword, the two archers fired. He screamed as the two arrows entered his side, penetrating the armour. He staggered, eyes wide and body taut, before collapsing into the mud. He rasped and wheezed as he padded his side in disbelief, feeling the two projectiles embedded there. "Damn you!" Lieutenant Volhim yelled. "I'll kill every last one of you for that!" "That ain't gonna happen." The leader said, drawing a blade and approaching Hector. They eased him over onto his back with their hind paw, staring down into his eyes. He stared back, pleading. "I hope this hurts." The leader brought up their blade and thrusted it down into his torso. Gasping, Hector tensed. He stared at the blade protruding from his midsection, impaling him, and he grasped it with both paws. He touched it as if he questioned its reality, hoping it was all some vivid drawn-out nightmare. But, as his head rested against the sodden soil and life left him, he knew it was no nightmare. Breathing his last, Hector Thornvallis went limp and lay still. The leader yanked his sword out from Hector and turned to face Lieutenant Volhim. "We've still got to talk to you." "I'm not telling you anything. You'll be begging for mercy when I kill all of you." "That's what they all say, Canid. Other than the information you have, you ain't special. Grab him." Two Ermehn grabbed the wounded lieutenant and dragged him back up the hills he had just escaped, leaving the leader and the two archers beside Hector's corpse. The leader looked down at it, nodding. "Another head for the Chief. Come on." Hoisting the body onto his shoulder, [[he led the way back up the hills to Hector Thornvallis' final resting place->Perished 13]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Escape 2]]

After three days of travelling through the ceaseless rain, stopping regularly to take shelter, they arrived back home. As Hector traversed the open grounds before the mighty Deltrada Garrison, he waved to the guards on the walkways. Canid soldiers peered over the walls as he approached, one ready with a bow and arrow. "It's us! Hector Thornvallis and Lieutenant Volhim! We're back from patrol!" He heard echoing cries of his names from the guards, relaying the information to those operating the doors. They heaved open as they advanced, allowing two soldiers to hurry out towards them. "Easy sir, easy!" One said, taking the lieutenant from Hector. "We'll take it from here. Come on in, quick." "What happened, Hector?" The second said. "We were ambushed. Killed everyone and captured the lieutenant. I survived. Vyra saved me but..." Hector's ears wilted. "She didn't make it." The second soldier gave a solemn nod and bowed his head in her memory. "I'm sorry, Hector. I know you two were close." "Yeah, well...it's done now." Hector, remembering Vyra's sacrifice, followed the two soldiers into the courtyard. As the doors swung shut behind them, he saw the same bustling activity he had become so accustomed to. He saw the hardworking omegas carrying out their tasks at the forge, distributing weaponry and supplies across the garrison. He saw recruits training, chanting in unison with passion and loyalty in their hearts. He saw officers patrolling the grounds, commanding their troops. He saw the place he called home but...somehow, he didn't see it through the same eyes. After all he had seen...after all those he had killed...[[he didn't know if this was the heroic battlement he had always thought it to be->Doubting 3]].

Hector followed the soldiers to a nearby officer, ignoring the glances he received from those scrutinisng his tarnished uniform and unkempt fur. "Lieutenant Norlas, sir," The first soldier said. "The patrol have returned." Lieutenant Norlas, a grey Canid officer that stood before a regiment of Canid soldiers in the middle of pushups, turned to face the new arrivals. His eyes widened at the sight of the injured Lieutenant Volhim and the muddied Hector. "Soldier!" He called to a subordinate. "Take over for me!" "Yes, sir!" They chanted. "All right, pups! Keep going! Hey, you at the back, I didn't tell you to stop!" Lieutenant Norlas hurried over, two other soldiers following him. He surveyed the two survivors again, faced contorted in confusion. His ears twitched and his tail flicked. "I don't follow. What happened? Where are the rest of the patrol?" "They didn't make it, sir," Hector said. "We were ambushed. Ermehn tribe. They killed everyone and captured Lieutenant Volhim. I survived, went back and got him out. We barely escaped." "//All// of you? Not another survivor?" Hector hesitated before answering, Vyra's corpse flashing in front of him. "They were all dead when I came to, sir. I went to save the lieutenant and...I killed eleven Ermehn, sir. Including the tribe chieftain." Lieutenant Norlas' eyes widened. "//Eleven// of them and their leader? Did you bring his head?" Hector felt a hint of disgust to such a response. The idea of bringing a head back to the garrison and having it mounted on the wall had once been a dream of his military career. Now? He couldn't think of anything worse. "No, I didn't. I didn't have the time." "A shame. I am inclined to believe you, regardless. For such heroic efforts and the successful rescue of Lieutenant Volhim, you could be looking at an award for your service." Hector nodded, feigning pride whilst sheathing his disinterest and shame. "Thank you, sir. I'm honoured." "It is the least I can do. Guard? Have Lieutenant Volhim seen to by a doctor right away. No delay." "Yes, sir." The soldier led Lieutenant Volhim away, guiding him slowly towards the keep, when the lieutenant spoke. "[[Wait, wait->Relaying 2]]."

Lieutenant Norlas turned to Lieutenant Volhim. "What is it, lieutenant?" "Hector killed ten Ermehn and their leader. Impressive work. But now that tribe is left in disarray and disorganised. They'll be weak. You need to send a bigger patrol out there to those hills to finish them off once and for all. After what they did to us...they brought it on themselves." Hector lowered his gaze as he remembered the dead chief sprawled out in the mud, slain by Canid blade. He thought of those families exiting the cave to the sight of their leader dead, left stranded without guidance or hope to live. They were vulnerable and, now, wouldn't stand a chance against an incoming patrol. This was his doing. Had there been another way? "Of course," Lieutenant Norlas said. "I'll see to it that these criminals are driven out from their hiding place. We'll avenge your patrol, Lieutenant Volhim. For now, however, you need to rest. Guard, as you were." The soldier nodded and guided Lieutenant Volhim away, directing him back to the keep. Hector followed the lieutenant with his eyes. As cruel it sounded, he began to regret rescuing the lieutenant. "Now, Hector, are you hurt?" "No sir, I'm...I'm fine. Just a gash on my head." "Luckier than the others, I see." "Yeah...luckier." "Well, it is good to see you're still alive. Go to one of the doctors and get that wound patched up. Then get washed and take these two days off from duty. After all you've been through, you need it. I'll put in a good word with one of the generals and see to it that you receive a commendation. Killing a tribe leader is no common achievement." Hector nodded, solemn. "I will, sir. Thank you." Lieutenant Norlas patted him on the shoulder and returned to his cohort of recruits, bellowing orders and berating slackers. The guards followed, murmuring condolences and congratulations for returning the lieutenant. [[Hector was left alone->Regrets 3]].

He had fought his way through several Ermehn defenders, slaying them in order to rescue his lieutenant. He had faced down a tribal chief and bested him in combat, killing him and leaving his corpse sprawled out in the mud alongside the others he had killed. Their leader, gone. And, with it, the last hope for that tribe. To others, killing an Ermehn was something to be proud of. But killing an Ermehn chieftain? That was something only the ambitious dreamed of. Maybe once upon a time, Hector would have dreamed of such glory. Now? Glory was nothing he wanted a part of. Glory was the reason as to why the Ermehn lived on the edge of existence and sustenance. Glory was the reason as to why his people, the Canid of Aisling, repeatedly raided camps of starving innocents. Glory was the reason as to why peace seemed so unheard of to his brethren. To his superiors. Now, because of this pursuit of greatness, a tribe of people just wanting to survive would perish like their leader had. And that was because of Hector. He couldn't shake the feeling that had he done something different, things would have turned out much better. For both him and the Ermehn tribe. [[Knowing there was nothing he could do now, he turned and walked to the keep->A Warrior's Ending]].

A WARRIOR'S ENDING Valuing honour and valour, you endeavoured through adversary after adversary. You faced down many and they all fell before your steel, victims to the might of the Canid. You slayed the leader of the enemy, vanquishing whatever semblance of morale their people once had. You would be remembered as a hero for months to come. Your name would be muttered in barracks and chambers throughout Deltrada, possibly even uttered by the tongues of the generals on high. The tale of your victory would be known by nearby outposts and even those back in Aisling. But was that the only way? Was there no alternative to a sharpened sword? Was there no room for diplomacy, for mercy, or for hesitation? Was there no room for conscience and independence? Was there room to change? For better or for worse, these are the choices you made. [[Has this outcome satisfied you->Finale]]? [[Or do you hear the distant beckon of other paths left untrodden->This is Where the Tale Begins]]?

For a Tamian scout, such a climb would be nothing but a mere warm-up. Even for some agile and nimble Ermehn, the climb would be concluded within a single minute. For a Canid, however, it was not so easy. Hector eased himself up the wall, taking a moment between each platform before reaching for the next. The ledges were slippery under his paw, glistening with a watery sheen. With every time he pulled himself up closer to the cliff edge, the jagged rocks beneath him grew further away. He just had to focus on reaching the top. He panted, knowing that he loomed over what he now knew would be his resting place if he fell. He felt himself begin to tremble but held fast. If he wanted to survive the climb, he had to stay focused and not look down. However, a growing curiosity formed inside. The desire to look down and satisfy his intrigue became overpowering, wanting to know how far he had come. A part of him wanted to [[embrace the urge->Fall to Death]] whilst the other, more rational part wanted to [[resist it->Keep Climbing]].

Hector glance down at the ground. He wished he hadn't. Below him resided a sea of jagged rocks, natural spikes protruding up from them that glared at the climber. They beckoned him to take the plunge, to fall back down to the ground and shatter across the stone. He was dizzingly high. Terror overcame Hector. He went stiff and froze, tail curling and ears wilting. His eyes widened. His breathing quickened in fear rather than exhaustion, heart pounding. He stalled in the middle of his climb, too far up to climb back down yet too scared to keep moving. Frozen, panicked and terrified, Hector refused to move. And, in his petrified state, he failed to feel his paws slipping from the ledges he clung to. At the last second, he felt the pads of his paws slide off the ledge. He gasped as he teetered backwards, falling away from the wall. Then, a fraction of a second later, his hind paws slipped away from the platforms they had stood on. Hector plunged to the ground, flailing in the air as gravity dragged him towards the bed of rocks beneath him. He spun and floundered as he cascaded towards his doom, letting out a wail of pure despair and fear. "//AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH//-" Hector struck the jagged stone. All the Canid managed as every bone in his body shattered and every organ ruptured was a small gurgle - a frail, feeble attempt to cling to life. For an agonising second, Hector remained completely conscious and endured ceaseless pain for an entire second. Then, eyes staring up at the dark sky and blood beginning to pool onto the rocks, [[Hector died in silence->Perished 14]].

Hector refused to look down. He knew he was high up but denial prevented him from panicking. Confirming such a reality by gazing down at the jaws of certain death would only seal his fate. He struggled but endured, heaving his way up the rock face. He had to blink away the endless cascading sheets of rain, trying to keep the looming presence of hope and success in sight. He reached upwards, grasping a platform. //Crack//. Yelping, the rock fell away beneath his paw. He fumbled against the wall, padding it for any alternatives, when he felt his paw grip another ledge and held on tight. He closed his eyes and tensed as hard as he could, waiting for the feeling of weightlessness to indicate his impending doom. But no such sensation came. The rock beneath his hind paws remained sturdy, firm, and he muttered thanks as he realised he was not to die in that moment. He took a few moments to scan for another ledge that would guide him upwards, squinting through the rain, before he located it off to his right. Utilising it, he continued his ascension to the cliff top. Minutes later, he felt his paws grasp flat, muddied earth. Hurrying, he heaved himself up onto the cliff edge and scrambled away from the ledge. Panting, his tongue dangled from the corner of his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly. He lay on his back and let the rain beat him for a moment. He began to think that, maybe, the road would have been a less stressful and dangerous approach. However, there was no time to think of what could have been. Besides, he was not going to climb back down to go along the road instead. He had come this far. Grunting, he forced himself up onto his hind paws. He stood on the tip of a cliff, which stretched back towards the hills and a formation of distant tents. His ears stood upon seeing the camp, listening for any indicators that the inhabitants still lurked there. He couldn't hear anything over the rain. Regardless, he readied his sword and [[hurried towards the camp->The Rear]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Ascending]]

Hector hesitated at the idea of killing someone who was out of the way of his mission. During his training days, he would have given anything to secure a kill on an Ermehn and bring back their head. Now? He wanted to avoid them where he could. But he knew he had to kill them. Not out of glory or out of desire but out of necessity. Hector, glancing around, approached from behind. The rain covered the sound of his hind paws through the mud, sword raised to be thrusted into the oblivious archer's spine. He eased himself forward, wary that the slightest sound held the potential of alerting the enemy. The distance between them closed. Every second, Hector eased his way towards his target. He gripped his sword harder, readying himself for another kill. He felt his left hind paw push against a stone and sent it clattering into another one with surprising volume. The archer, tensing, whirled around. Their eyes fell upon the crouched Canid. Hector froze, eyes clashing against the archer's. Neither said anything for a second. Then the archer reached for their bow. "Intruder over here!" Hector sprinted forwards and swung with his sword, aiming for their head. They weaved underneath the swing and arrived behind him, bow drawn and arrowed loaded but too close to fire. With elegance, the archer kicked him in the side and sent him stumbling towards the ledge they had stood before, creating distance. Hector stumbled towards it, eyes wide and flailing his arms. After a second of struggling, he balanced and took a step back from death. He turned, ready to fight as Ermehn soldiers from the camp hurried towards them. The archer fired. The arrow tore through his right eye and killed him immediately. Without a sound, Hector Thornvallis' corpse tipped back and plunged over the side, spinning down to the ground. [[He landed with the simultaneous crack of every bone snapping on impact->Perished 15]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->The Rear]]

Hector knelt by Moltreig's side, crimson droplets sprayed across his face. The wounded Canid stared at him with wide eyes, heaving. "You...killed him. He was just...a young idiot, Hector." "Ermehn scum is Ermehn scum all the same. And they die the same, too." For a moment, Moltreig stared at his saviour. Not one word came out of his open mouth, held ajar in the shock of his ally's brutality. After such a period passed, however, he shook his head and focused. "Listen to me...they got the lieutenant." Hector's ears stood. "Volhim?" "Yes...Volhim. They dragged the idiot away...during the ambush. You have to get him...back to Deltrada." "Where did they take him?" "Up the road...and up the hill..." Moltreig pointed further along the road. Hector followed his trembling paw and saw the route ahead, leading up a soft incline and around a rock formation towards the supposed hill. "I'll get him back. I'll make every last one of these savages pay for what they did, mark my words." "Focus on...rescuing him. Killing is a secondary...priority." "But they did this to you. They have to pay." "I don't care about me. I've lived long enough...and I'm ready. Just focus on the mission...and forget about me." Moltreig wheezed, strength waning. "Save him...that's your...priority..." With a labouring gasp, Moltreig's eyes glazed over and he fell still. Hector's gaze lingered over their face for a moment, scanning it for any signs of life. He found none. Enraged, he snarled and glared at the corpses of the three Ermehn. The sight of tribal tattoos and Ermehn kilts summoned a sense of loathing from him that he had never thought he could experience. "Your tribe is going to pay for this. For Vyra and Moltreig. I'm going to kill every last one of you." He knew what he had to do. What he //wanted// to do. Locate the tribe's camp, rescue the lieutenant, and kill any Ermehn that stood in his way. The road Moltreig had gestured to lay out before him, leading ahead and then around a large rock formation that formed the foundation of a cliff. [[Following that would be a direct route to the camp->Follow the Road 2]] yet it also had the added risk of encountering any patrols that were still roaming. An alternative would be to [[scale the rock formation->Climb 2]] itself. It would avoid the looming risk of stumbling upon an armed patrol and would lead directly to the cliff without having to work his way through the hills.

Hector decided to follow the road ahead. Despite his embroiling rage at the death of his allies, he still had enough sense to see that he was no Tamian scout or agile Ermehn. Attempting to scale the face of the rocks would lead to a horrible demise upon the bed of jagged rocks lying below. Before he ventured off, he gazed down at the trio of Ermehn corpses. They lay in their pools of diluted crimson, faces contorted in agony and mud. Hector snarled at them in disgust before kneeling and looting their corpses, patting them down. Despite the occasional grouse or tuber, he found nothing of value. He picked up Novi's dagger and slid it into his belt, knowing it could be of use later. He was left alone with a sword, a dagger and a mission. That was enough for Hector. He rushed along the road, remaining low with sword drawn and ears standing. He weathered the storm, vengeance leading him along and towards the rocks. He curved with the road, following the incline up and around with the river. He clenched the grip of his sword, awaiting the sight of an Ermehn target. He peered around the corner of the rocks to find the road empty up ahead, winding up into the hills. //The camp has to be up there//. He couldn't see the telltale signs of a camp existing in the hills ahead but he knew the inclement weather had something to do with that. Any fires would have been immediately doused by the sheets of rain, and any trails to and from the camp would have been washed away. He had to rely on instinct alone. The idea of those murderers lurking in the hills, resting in their den of savages and barbarians, made him snarl. He was going to make them pay. As he advanced up the road, he saw movement from ahead. He stopped, ears standing. A pair of figures approached, both masked. Both carried swords, held loosely in their paws as they patrolled. They were headed right for him. In a few seconds, they'd see him through the rain and darkness. He growled. This would be a perfect opportunity to exact his vengeance on the monsters that had ambushed him. To [[let them experience Canid justice and steel->Confront 2]]. However, from some stronghold of reason and conscience that managed to prevail in the face of his vengeance, he knew he had to be careful. Complacency and overconfidence would see him slain. It would best if [[he hid to the bushes to his right->Hide 2]]. They were thin but the storm would help conceal him.

Hector sized up the rock formation. It was tall, sure, and a fall would surely lead to, at best, a broken bone or, at worst, death. However, he was alone. He could take one, two, maybe three Ermehn at a time. If he encountered a patrol with any more than that, however, he'd be overwhelmed. And, glancing down the road, he knew following it would yield a greater chance of that happening. He looked back to Vyra's corpse. "I'll every last one of them. I will. I'll make sure they pay for what they did to you." He looked down at Moltreig. The Canid's words came back to him, encouraging mercy and rational thinking, but his rage did not entertain such a thought. These Ermehn were scum and they would die like //scum//. Snarling in disgust, Hector looted the three Ermehn he had killed. Beyond grubs, tubers and stale bread that verged on inedible, he found nothing of value or use to him. He snatched Novi's discarded dagger and slid it into his belt, stowing it away in case he needed it. The sight of the dead youth made him falter. Some last ember of conscience appealed to him, warning him that he was hurtling down a path none came back from. But, after glancing at Vyra and Moltreig, he ignored it. He was alone with a sword, a dagger, and a mission. That was enough for Hector. Wincing as his gash nagged, he hurried towards the base of the rock formation. It stood stoic and proud, unmoved by Canid, Ermehn or time. He arrived at its base, stepping over the jagged rocks that resided beneath him, and scanned the face of the rock. He could see numerous ledges that would serve as easy platforms to ascend, all fortunately forming a direct line upwards towards the top. If he was careful and maintained a steady pace, he would scale its face without problem. Any other person would have been scared in that moment. However, Hector was far too focused on vengeance to let fear grip him. There was no time to dally and cower. Knowing this, [[he began to climb->Ascending 2]].

With that vengeful flame growing inside him, Hector stood tall and twirled his sword in his paw. He strode towards the figures ahead of him, a growl rising his throat. "Hey! You two!" The two masked Ermehn froze as they saw the Canid hurrying towards them, bloodied sword in paw. They glanced to one another, paws moving to the grips of their weapons. "I'm going to //slaughter// you for what you did. You hear me? No one in your tribe is safe!" The leader stepped forward, readying their sword. "You forgetting where you are right now, Canid? This is Ermehn country! No Canid survives out here and you ain't gonna be the exception!" "These hills are going to run red with your blood. With the blood from //both// of you!" That's when he saw the three other Ermehn guards behind them. The trio stepped out from behind the duo, having been hidden by the storm and darkness alike. Two levelled their bows at his chest, arrows loaded and strings pulled back. Hector, blinded by rage, didn't let the sight of reinforcements stop him. Yelling, he raised his sword and charged at the leading Ermehn, fangs bared. "Shoot him!" They ordered. The two archers fired. The first arrow whizzed over his shoulder as he advanced, darting left to avoid it embedding its head into his shoulder. The second, however, found its target. Hector yelped as pain erupted from his stomach, the arrow driving itself into his flesh. His rage powered him through the blow. He yelled out and threw himself at the leader, swinging. "Damn!" One Ermehn yelled. The leader ducked under the swing and threw himself at Hector, tackling him to the ground. He brought his blade up into the air and thrusted it down towards Hector, aiming for his heart. Catching his wrists, Hector struggled against him with all his might. Seconds of the stalemate passed, the other soldiers watching on as their leader wrestled the Canid. Hector's arms trembled. His wound weakened him, sapping his strength, and he could feel the weight of the Ermehn's blade grow heavier with every passing second. He tried to kick them off, to unleash a surge of energy, but he was incapable of such a comeback. "You ain't so tough, Canid!" The leader bellowed. "You're weak! You're //weak//!" Knocking away his arms, the leader raised his weapon and brought it down on Hector's heart. He yelped as the blade entered, feeling searing pain bloom from his chest, and he glared into the Ermehn's eyes. He tried to bite them, to swing and hit them, but it was no use. [[The leader's eyes were the last thing Hector Thornvallis ever saw->Perished 16]].

With how fast the nearby patrol were closing in, he knew diving into the bushes was his only option. Now matter how many the enemy numbered or how brightly his rage burned, he needed to remember he was alone. He couldn't be complacent or risk overconfidence. He ducked into the foliage, crouching and lowering his sword. Whilst the bushes were thin, they would shield him from view well enough for as long as the Ermehn patrol remained distracted by their own conversation and confidence. "Devas has been gone for a while," One said. "You think they're okay?" "Devas is fine. We sent him after a bunch of corpses." The leader answered. "Dead people usually don't put up much of a fight, do they?" "Not really." They approached the bush, only metres away to his right. Hector glanced behind the duo and managed to suppress a snarl as he saw three more patrolling ambushers behind the leading pair, two of which carried bows. //Five of them instead of two//. He readied his blade, remembering Vyra and Moltreig. //More to kill//. "You think Novi will be all right?" "He's been stuck in the cave with his mother all these years. A bit of action ain't gonna kill him." Hector almost scoffed at the irony of the statement, ignoring the weak pang of guilt that emanated from within. "But he's young." "And? My first kill was when I was fourteen." The group murmured in agreement. The second Ermehn sighed, nodding. "I suppose the ambush went well." "Ain't nothing well about it. We slaughtered them. We did far better than 'well'." "I got a shot in on a runner." One of the trio lurking at the back said. Hector's ears stood. "The one who ran to the bank?" The leader said. "Yeah. They had another Canid with them. They dropped them on the bank and turned but then I shot them." They laughed amongst themselves and celebrated the kill, congratulating the archer. Hector's eyes focused on the masked Ermehn. A low growl escaped him. //They killed Vyra//. And, as they continued to laugh and enjoy their victory, Hector felt an impulsive urge to attack. He could not resist the allure of Ermehn crimson, the satisfactory relief of slaying one of his ally's killers. The mere sight of an Ermehn forced him into action. "[[You're all dead, Ermehn scum->The Attack]]!"

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Follow the Road 2]]

Hector leapt out of the bushes with sword raised and fangs bared, descending upon Vyra's killer with a flash of steel. The archer choked as the blade cut through the front of their throat, sending crimson spewing down their front. They collapsed and writhed on the ground, gargling and struggling. "What the-" Rage prevailing, Hector turned on one of the nearby blade-wielding Ermehn and stabbed his sword into their chest. They shrieked as the metal bit through bone and flesh, dying a second after their ghoulish scream echoed across the Northern Wastes. Hector shoved them off the blade and turned to face the remaining trio. He had possessed the element of surprise. It had provided him with a few seconds to eliminate two ambushers without the worry of being attacked, ignoring the other Ermehn as they fumbled for their weapons. However, the enemy had long since recovered. "It's another Canid, kill them!" One soldier said. "You ain't leaving here with your head, Canid!" The leader bellowed, charging. Hector, in that split second, took in his situation. Beside him stood the second archer, too close to shoot and struggling to ready their bow. Although right now they were redundant, the archer would soon prove to be his greatest threat once they took a few steps back. It was best to [[attack the archer->Kill the Archer]]. However, the leader was charging his position with sword ready and a wild look in his eyes. Hector needed to [[prioritise the more immediate threat->Kill the Leader]] before dispatching the archer or he would feel the cruel bite of steel entering his back.

Hector spun and swung his sword. His blade cut into the archer's side and summoned a cry of despair from them. Their bow fell from their paws and clattered to the ground, discarded by its owner. Hector kicked them off and ripped the blade out of their side, letting their corpse collapse to the- "//Gah//!" Hector felt cold steel push it's way into his back, followed by a surprising force. He collapsed onto his front beside the archer's corpse, feeling the leader he had disregarded pin him down and turn him over. "Well, well," The leader said. "Looks like I hit you good, Canid." Hector tried to swing at him with his sword, fury numbing the pain, but the leader knocked his wielding arm with ease. A second attempt failed within seconds, his wielding arm trembling from the exertion. Hector grunted and growled as he felt life ebb away from him with his blood, strength waning. An attempt to throw the leader off him proved to be useless, wasting his remaining strength quicker. His vision dimmed and everything began to sound like it was underwater. He was dying. The Ermehn leader leant down and glared into his eyes, watching him die. "You were as weak as your dead friends. You ain't no soldier...and you ain't gonna die like one. You're dying. You're gonna die alone, forgotten and a fool." Hector, unable to resist death's call for much longer, died exactly like that - [[alone, forgotten and a fool->Perished 17]].

Hector stepped to the side as the leader charged. The Ermehn's blade cleaved through the air, missing its target. Hector didn't miss his. The leader screamed as the sword ate into his side, carving through muscle and bone. They slumped down onto the ground as Hector slid his sword back out, clutching the crevice he had left. "You're gonna pay for that!" Attempting to make good on such a threat, the second blade-wielding Ermehn stepped forward and stabbed. Hector deflected the blow, stepping back to create distance. The attacker swung, aiming for his head, but Hector deflected the attack with ease. The enemy's sword arm was forced away from their front and allowed the Canid to slash at his chest. They stumbled back, falling to one knee. "Damn it!" They raised their sword to bat Hector away but it was a vain attempt to save themselves. They screamed as Hector brought the sword down onto them, pinning them against the mud. He grunted as he pulled the sword out of the corpse, turning to face the archer. He jumped as the air beside him was torn by an arrow whizzing past, embedding itself into the dirt. The archer trembled and fumbled with the next arrow in their quiver, stiff with terror at the sight of the Canid running towards him. "I'm not done with you!" Before the archer could fire again, Hector shoved them back. The momentum from his charge sent the archer onto his back, spilling his arrows out onto the ground. Terror petrified him, preventing the Ermehn archer from reaching for the dagger on their belt and instead raising their arms to plead. "Please, wait wait wait! Don't kill me! My daughter needs me, I have family!" Hector had heard such a tale before - one that attempted to coerce him into mercy. But the vengeful rage that continued to manifest inside him prevented any hesitation or consideration of the archer's plea, urging Hector to raise his blade. He met the archer's terrified eyes. "So did my comrades." He didn't hesitate to bring the sword down on the archer's torso, raising the sword up and bringing it down again. He repeatedly slashed and hacked at the Ermehn, summoning scream after yell after shriek after wail of agony from them. The volume of every cry diminished with every blow, falling to a final gurgle as Hector thrust the blade down into their chest. Then, [[silence->Silence]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->The Attack]]

Hector ripped the sword out, panting. He looked around him. The five Ermehn soldiers of the patrol lay dead, crimson matting their fur and pooling beneath their corpses. The lashing rain diluted the deep crimson into pink and cherry red until, eventually, it faded away and disappeared amongst the mounds of wet mud. Hector felt good. He felt empowered. He looked at the crimson on his sword. It clung to it like a dress, flamboyant in colour. He watched as the water bombarded it, chipping holes into the blood plastered over the steel. Vengeance felt good. //I'll kill them all, Vyra. I'll kill them all//. He looked up the road. It remained empty, its Ermehn inhabitants driven out in a torrent of blood. Further ahead resided the distant hills - the home of the tribe that had slain his comrades. And, now, he was going to return the favour. After looting the soldiers and finding nothing but stale food, [[he continued up the road and left the corpses of the Ermehn patrol to rot in the mud->Hillside]].

Enduring the unrelenting rain, Hector snuck his way up the road and up the hills. He followed a path that cut through the impassable slopes and cliffs, peering around corners with sword at the ready. He scanned every inch of the area ahead of him, often glancing over his shoulder to ensure none were following behind. A weird sensation followed every sudden glance around him. Was that excitement? Anticipation? Anxiety? With his mind clouded by the sights of his dead patrol, he couldn't discern it. After a few steps up the hill, he glanced right. He stopped. Ten wooden poles protruded from the muddied slope to his right, some beginning to slouch left and right due to their foundations being weakened by the rain. Each pole had a Canid head mounted on top, the face of the deceased contorted and frozen in whatever pain and fear they had felt at the moment of their passing. Some were more rotten than others, flesh eroded and fur knotted, whilst others were significantly fresher. The sight of his brethren dead and defiled angered him further, summoning a low growl. //If only you scum knew who you were messing with//. He pressed on. Dawdling would lead to the tribe possibly getting away and relocating, followed by the lieutenant's head joining the deceased on an eleventh pole. He needed to act quick. Not too far from reaching the camp, he peered around the corner of a rock. Two Ermehn guards stood ahead, adorned in the same tribal markings, kilts, masks and weaponry. Both conversed, gesturing back to camp in reference to something Hector couldn't decipher. He knew that, if he wanted to enter the camp, he'd have to get these guards out of the way. That wouldn't be a problem. He glanced left. Peering over the cliff edge of the camp, an Ermehn archer surveyed the distant landscape. They were distracted, lost in their own thoughts, and would probably overlook any sort of disturbance near the entrance guards. Whilst logic dictated that he distract the guards with a rock and sneak on past, he knew he couldn't let the monsters live with what they had done. They had to die. The question was how. There was the possibility of [[sneaking forward along the path as fast as he could and then charging the moment he was spotted->Charge Up Path]]. There were only two of them - he could eliminate them with ease. Alternatively, he could [[advance through the surrounding rocks->Stealth Through Rocks]] and close the distance between him and the two guards. This introduced the risk of alerting them to his presence if he accidentally kicked a small rock but, if he was careful, he'd be fine. A third option was to [[make a noise and attract the guards to his position->Attract]]. He would be able to slay them in quick succession if they walked into range of his bloodied sword.

Taking a deep breath, Hector eased himself forwards along the path. He kept low, eyes shifting from guard to guard, sword at the ready. He was closest to the right guard. If he could take them out in one swift motion, the second would be no problem to deal with. His tail flicked back and forth in excitement. "That patrol has been gone a while." The left said. "The one with Novi?" The right said. "Yeah. They were just looting corpses. They can't be taking that long. Do you think something's up?" "If there was, the other patrol on the road would have dealt with it. There ain't no problem. The only problem here is the damn rain." "I'll second that." As Hector raised his sword, the right guard's eyes fixated on him. "Hey, we got a-" Letting vengeance guide him, Hector lunged. The guard was too slow to summon their blade and died as the metal tore through their chest, shredding their heart. He shoved the deceased off the blade and attacked the left guard, clashing against their blade. "Intruder here, intruder here!" Hector broke free from the clash and knocked away his opponent's swinging arm, slashing at their throat. He felt a surge of satisfaction as the soldier's eyes went wide and they stumbled, blood pouring from the slit. They collapsed into the mud, struggling against the inevitable. Before Hector had a chance to advance, however, he felt the sudden intense sting of an arrow embedding itself into his throat. He reeled back, gargling with eyes wide and body taut. The archer on the cliff stood with bow raised, watching their target struggle. Hector fell to his knees and dropped his sword, clutching his throat in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood. Choking, he flopped onto his back and kicked at the mud. The world darkened around him. His arms fell away from his throat and his body fell still, life fading. Seconds later, [[Hector Thornvallis was no more->Perished 18]].

Hector turned and hurried into the cover of the hillside rocks. He watched where he placed his hind paws, careful to not kick any of the smaller rocks and alert the two guards. He stayed low and glanced repeatedly at the soldiers, assuring they remained oblivious. "How's the Chief doing with that lieutenant?" The left said. "Well, the Canid ain't talking. But once the Chief decides to get some tools out and start trimming away, he'll be blabbing all over the place." "No better sound than a Canid howling in pain, right?" "No better sound. After exiling us out here like we ain't nothing, it'll feel //so// satisfying." "I can vouch for that." For a fraction of a second, Hector paused. The mentioning of the Ermehn people's exile forced him to question all that had happened. They had killed his patrol - yet, could he truly blame them? They were trapped in the inhospitable, hostile and barren Northern Wastes without any room to cultivate or live. Was such action the fault of the Ermehn or the fault of his leaders? But Hector did not let these thoughts take hold. Of course it was the Ermehn's fault. They could have been civilised about all of it. They could have protested, entered negotiations or done something far more diplomatic than attacking a patrol completely unprovoked. It was their fault, not the Canid's. And for what they did to his patrol...to Moltreig...to Vyra... They would pay. Hector circumvented the guards and, after a minute, arrived behind them. He glanced back to the archer and found them to still be pensive and distracted. They wouldn't notice a fight for as long as he ended it quickly. "How's your brother?" One said. "Eh, he's all right. A bit sickly but the Chief reckons it ain't nothing to lose sleep over. Once he's back and well, then-" Hector slit their throat with one flick of his sword, drawing blood. The Ermehn gargled and choked, collapsing to the ground. Their counterpart turned, frozen. Before they could utter a word, Hector rammed his sword into their stomach and pinned them against him. Gasping in pain, they struggled. "No...this can't...happen..." Hector met their gaze. "Oh, it is happening. And let me tell you - your tribe are going to go through the same pain as you." In that final moment before death took them, he saw fear. He caught a glimpse of terror at the thought of his tribe being next to perish. He tried to plead for his people but he could only summon a croak and, a second later, he went limp on the blade. Hector kicked them off and looked up at the archer. //Still none the wiser. These Ermehn are stupid//. He dragged the corpses of the two guards behind the rock, hiding them from sight. He stared down at their shocked and terrified faces, blood pouring from their wounds. To the innocent and the inexperienced, such a sight would be terrible. But, to Hector Thornvallis, such a sight was rewarding. And, soon, [[Ermehn corpses would be in abundance->The Camp 2]].

Sneaking back behind the rocks, Hector whistled. The two guards snapped their gazes to the large rocks down the path, halting their conversation. Only the sound of the rain persisted through the silence, pattering against the sodden mud. "Hear that?" "I heard that, all right. You reckon it was a critter?" "I don't know no critters that whistle, let alone live out here in this mess of a place." "What do we do?" That surge of satisfaction returned as Hector heard the uncomfortable silence that followed. The two Ermehn were uncertain and unsure. "We check it out. Stay behind me." "You got it." Hector heard them advance, padding down the path towards his position. He eased his way around the back of the rock as they approached, remaining in concealment. "It was over by these rocks, here." "You see anything?" "I ain't seeing nothing." Hector reached the opposite side of the rock and peered around the corner. The two guards stood ahead of him, backs turned and oblivious to his close proximity. He glanced up to the archer. They were still distracted, peering off into the distance. "Ain't nothing here." One sighed. "But something whistled. I heard it." "Me too. So what the-" Darting around the corner, Hector sliced the right guard's throat. Blood spewed as they collapsed onto the ground in a heaving mess, eyes wide in shock. Their counterpart turned, gasping. That's all they managed. Hector drove his sword into their chest. They grunted and opened their mouth to scream for help. All they managed was a pained croak as they fell to their knees, resisting all they could against death. "Damn...you...Canid..." Hector glared into their dying eyes. "Don't worry. The rest of the tribe won't be too far behind you." In that final moment before death took them, he saw fear. He caught a glimpse of terror at the thought of his tribe being next to perish. He tried to plead for his people but he could only summon a croak and, a second later, he went limp on the blade. Hector kicked them off and looked up at the archer. //Still distracted. These Ermehn are stupid//. He dragged the corpses of the two guards behind the rock, hiding them from sight. He stared down at their shocked and terrified faces, blood pouring from their wounds. To the innocent and the inexperienced, such a sight would be terrible. But, to Hector Thornvallis, such a sight was rewarding. And, soon, [[Ermehn corpses would be in abundance->The Camp 2]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Hillside]]

As Hector snuck into the camp, he saw exactly what conditions the Ermehn people survived under. The camp was a town of threadbare and dilapidated tents, providing minimal protection from the elements for its people. It sat before the open mouth of a cave, extending deep into the shadowy innards of the cliff. Emptied wooden crates and boxes lay strewn across the paths between tents, complimented by whatever parts of their meagre rations had proven too inedible to devour. Yet, Hector dismissed the signs of hardship and struggle. //Maybe if they weren't so barbaric and cruel, they wouldn't be living like this//. //It's their fault//. Hector eased his way into the camp. It seemed almost abandoned, left that way as many of the inhabitants were out on patrols. However, with Novi dead and the patrols slain, he had plenty of time to do what he needed to. And, with the camp without its defenders, it was far more vulnerable. That worked for Hector. Peering around a tent, he caught a glimpse of what lay in the centre of the camp. A rectangular clearing formed between the tents, metres in diameter. A campfire sat in the middle of it all, long since extinguished to the point where not even vapours rose from the dead embers. None of the few Ermehn patrolling the camp attempted to rekindle the fire, knowing they could not best the rain. He saw the lieutenant. A metre or so before the fire, tied to a wooden pole with his arms above his head, knelt Lieutenant Volhim. The Canid lieutenant boasted numerous bruises and swellings from a beating Hector had not been present to witness, leaving him weakened and fragile. Blood dribbled from his nostrils. His top had been removed, leaving him half-naked and exposed to the brutal rain. One Ermehn soldier stood before him, one paw resting on his shoulder whilst the other hovered inches from his face. Mothers turned their young away from the sight, distracting them with tarnished toys and engrossing fables. Hector regarded them all with a low growl. "You gonna talk, lieutenant?" The Ermehn threatened. "Or I am going to have to beat it out of you?" The dark-furred lieutenant scoffed, shaking his head. "You're making a big mistake. We don't take kindly to-" The Ermehn struck him in the gut. Lieutenant Volhim wheezed, slouching forwards. "We don't take kindly to savages, you-" The Ermehn hit him over the head. Lieutenant Volhim yelped and reeled away from the blow. His confidence and bravado remained intact as he laughed in the face of another blow, pitying the Ermehn's attempts to make him talk. "You might as well kill me already. I'm not the kind of person who likes to chat." The Ermehn raised his clenched paw again, aiming for Lieutenant Volhim's face, but stopped as a deep rumbling voice interrupted the interrogation. "[[Leave him be->Behemoth]]."

The Ermehn looked back over their shoulder, resting their eyes on whoever had addressed them. They nodded, bowing their head and lowering their arm as they stepped back away from the lieutenant. Hector watched a behemoth step out from behind the obscurity of a nearby tent and approach the captive. He stood taller than anyone else within the camp, most certainly towering over Hector and any other Canid. The Ermehn's face was adorned in numerous tribal tattoos and markings, more so than any regular soldier he had stumbled across so far. Experience radiated from the numerous scars and wounds left emblazoned on the flesh beneath his dark fur. An axe sat snug in the belt of the giant, sharpened and ready to tear flesh. Upon seeing the behemoth, Hector tightened his grip on his sword. [[Then his eyes fell upon what dangled from the Ermehn's belt->Discovery 2]].

Hector's voice cut through the commotion of the interrogation. The Chief and his subordinate both turned to face him. Lieutenant Volhim followed their gaze and found his rescuer standing there, squaring off against the behemoth and his tribe. Mothers gasped at the sight of the muddied Canid and yanked their young away, retreating to the cave. "Over here!" The subordinate yelled, breaking free from his stupor. "I've got another Canid over here!" Ermehn soldiers answered their call. Three guards hurried in from the back of the camp, including the archer Hector had seen on the cliff edge. Two more appeared from the right, darting out of their tents. Seven Ermehn soldiers, including the Chief, stood with eyes focused on Hector. "Dosvah! Aavan!" The Chief bellowed. "We have an intruder, get up here!" Hector grinned. "Those two are dead. Slit one's throat and stabbed the other. They died //pleading//." The cohort recoiled. Even the Chief's face faltered for a second, a sight that made Hector's grin widen, before they steeled themselves. "They had families. They had loved ones." "And they'll have to bury them now, won't they?" The Chief's gaze hardened in response to such cruel indifference. "Your first mistake was coming into our land. Your second mistake was entering our camp." The Chief readied his axe. "And your third mistake was thinking you could defeat us." Hector saw the Ermehn soldiers ready their weapons, remaining wary and observant of him. Whilst the urge to [[throw himself at the enemy->The Assault]] and attack was overpowering, he noticed the archer aiming their steadied bow at him. The moment he moved, they'd shoot and probably hit. What he needed was something to drop their guard. [[He needed to throw them->Shock]]. All he needed was a moment.

With his dead allies urging him to avenge them, Hector snarled and lunged for the nearest Ermehn soldier. He stepped left and then threw himself right, swinging through the air. The archer, almost without difficulty, shifted aim and fired. "//Ah//!" Hector felt the arrow strike him in the side and he stumbled, attack halting. A moment of vulnerability passed where his guard fell, eyes focused on the arrow protruding from his side. The Chief didn't let such an opportunity go. Yelling, he brought the axe back over his head and hurled it at Hector. //Crunch//. Gasping in pain, Hector took a step back from the force of the projectile. He looked down and found the axe embedded in his chest, blood pouring from the ravine that it left. Trembling, he collapsed to his knees and his ears wilted. He dropped his sword and rested one paw on the grip of the axe, unable to fathom his fate. The Chief stormed towards him. "And to think, for a moment, I thought you to be some mighty warrior." Ripping the axe out, the Chief kicked him onto his back. Hector was left sprawled out in the mud, gasping and wheezing. "But you're just another monster that needs killing." Hector met the Chief's gaze with defiance, growling. "Fine...kill me...you'll all be dead soon..." The Chief scoffed, raised his axe and [[beheaded Hector Thornvallis without hesitation->Perished 19]].

"You ever heard of an Ermehn called Novi?" As soon as Hector uttered the name of the young Ermehn, he sensed all those before him freeze. The soldiers glanced to one another and to the Chief, muttering in concern. The archer's bow slackened, eyes wide behind the mask. "If you hurt him," The Chief said. "You will pay." "I did more than hurt him. I //killed// him. I slit his throat and he begged and pleaded but he couldn't stop the blood no matter how hard he tried. He even called out for his mother at one point like it would save him." The soldiers recoiled, gasping. The archer's bow lowered an inch, glancing to the Chief. Even the stoic leader's face faltered upon hearing such news, unsure of how to respond. Hector knew such a lapse in their guard would be followed by a consuming desire to avenge the young Ermehn. It was possibly only seconds away. He had to act and seize the opportunity before they recovered. Yet, he found himself continuing. Something deep down enjoyed the sight of the terrified Ermehn. Something that was beyond the motivation of vengeance. "You killed my comrades. Your tribe soldiers did that with you leading them. You attacked us unprovoked and slaughtered us like we were nothing." As the Chief's face hardened and his paw tensed around the grip of his axe, Hector prepared to throw himself into the fray. "And, because of that, you might as well have buried your tribe on this cliff." [[Hector Thornvallis, snarling, attacked->The First Swing]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Scumbags]]

As the shock faded from the revelation of Novi's fate, the Ermehn soldiers readied themselves to fight. The archer raised their bow and fired but the arrow whizzed past Hector as he charged the nearest Ermehn, swinging with his sword. They grunted as the blade cut at their arm, drawing blood, but persisted. "Kill him!" One yelled. "This is for Novi, you monster!" "You're gonna die, Canid!" The five Ermehn soldiers began to encircle him, swinging and stabbing. The archer aimed through gaps and breaks in the perimeter, hoping to fire at Hector without the risk of striking one of their allies. Hector dodged and deflected, blocked and riposted, battling away each and every barbarian that attacked him. The Chief lurked at the back, waiting for the right moment to join the fray. One soldier stepped forward and swung with their sword at Hector's side. He blocked the swing and shoved them back, leaving them vulnerable. He sliced and sent them reeling back, paw clamped over the gash that his blade left. An ally stepped in to substitute them, raising their blade. "Die already!" Hector turned and saw an attacker charging his position, stabbing forwards. Sidestepping their attack, he put one hind paw out and tripped them up. They pitched over into the mud, scrambling to stand. Hector saw them exposed, left vulnerable as they struggled to stand. [[One swift stab downwards->Finish Them]] was all it would take to remove another soldier from the battlefield and make his situation a whole lot easier. But the archer had a line of sight on him from between two of the soldiers, eyeing up the gap. He'd be left stationary if he stopped to slay the downed Ermehn. All the archer would have to do is aim where he stood and then fire. For that reason, maybe it was best to [[let the Ermehn recover and wait for another opportunity->Be Patient]].

Bloodthirsty and crazed, Hector saw no reason to stop. He raised the sword and brought it straight down into the Ermehn's spine, impaling them. They let out a shrill cry of despaired pain and then went limp, facedown in the mud. "Jurra, no!" As Hector pulled out his sword and turned to face another target, he heard the //snap// of a bowstring. //Crunch//. The arrow burrowed into the side of Hector's head. The Canid, wide-eyed, stumbled to the side and collapsed. He lay still beside Jurra's corpse, face locked in a perpetual look of surprise. The Ermehn soldiers, panting, lowered their weapons. The Chief strode forwards and stopped by the dead Canid, kneeling. "Yet another testament as to how cruel these Canids are. They preach civility and diplomacy yet, the moment we turn our backs, they embed daggers into our spines." He stood, spitting on the corpse of Hector Thornvallis. "I shall deal with this one. Once his head and pelt are gone, I shall dump him beside the river." "What about Jurra and Yillani, Chief?" One said. "Bury them at the base of the hills and, then, find the rest of the patrol that this monster supposedly killed. They'll be remembered for their valiance and bravery. They will be forever peaceful, now." The Chief watched as his tribe warriors got to work in solemnity, carrying Jurra and Yillani's corpses off to be buried. The others dispersed, securing the perimeter of the camp. The Chief turned to the defeated face of Lieutenant Volhim. He drew his dagger. "Don't worry, lieutenant. [[I shall reunite you two monsters once we're done talking->Perished 20]]."

Hector abandoned the fallen Ermehn and darted back as the archer fired and missed, turning with sword swinging. The soldier behind him was unexpecting of such a sudden attack, too slow to raise their blade to defend themselves. They gargled as the sword cut through them, knocking their carcass to the ground. "Loshi!" One soldier called out. "Damn it!" "I'll kill you!" The fallen Ermehn said, charging Hector again. "You can't hope to beat us!" Hector ducked under the swing and slashed at their leg. The Ermehn yelped and fell to their knees, clutching their bloodied leg. They raised their blade to attack him but the enraged Canid was far quicker with his weapon. Thrusting the sword into the Ermehn's side, he felt the blade slide into the weak flesh underneath their arm. They screamed and went taut, crumpling beside him. "Jurra, no!" Hector slid his sword back out and rolled as the archer fired again, tearing through the air where he had knelt. Rising to his hind paws, he turned to find the three remaining Ermehn converging on his position. The archer raised their bow again, aiming for his head. Whilst he was most certainly crawling towards victory, he could not become complacent. Three Ermehn still posed a threat and the addition of the archer and the awaiting Chief did not help. If he was to survive, he needed to keep up the pressure. "I'm right here! Kill me!" He snarled, charging back at them. As he advanced and found himself seconds from colliding with the enemy, he was confronted by the possibility of attacking the one to the right, to the left or the centre. Each wielded a sharpened blade, boasting the same lethality, but he knew his positioning after slaying one of three would be crucial. If he attacked the one in the [[centre->Attack Centre]], he'd be surrounded. If he attacked the one on the [[right->Attack Right]], he'd be left open to the archer. If he attacked the one to the [[left->Attack Left]], he'd be standing right beside two armed enemy combatants.

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->The First Swing]]

Hector thrusted his sword into the middle's chest, clashing with them. They put up a feeble defence, too weak to hope to deflect the attack. They let out a guttural cry as the metal tore into their torso, shredding their body. A rush of satisfaction surged through Hector as he watched the light leave their eyes, finding himself almost trembling. But, even in such an ecstatic state, the two Ermehn standing on either side of him could not be bested. The one to the left stabbed at his side. Yelping, Hector felt the sting of metal biting into his flesh, turning and smacking the attacker away with his arm. Shrugging off the wound, he raised his sword to slice at their neck and finish them off before attacking the right Ermehn. He gasped and froze. He looked down. A sword's tip protruded through his stomach, crimson dripping from the metal. The right Ermehn behind him panted as he held the sword inside of him, seething. "I got you good, Canid." Hector tried to turn to swing but, as he bled, strength left him. The right Ermehn pushed him off the blade and sent him to the ground. He growled and snarled in pain, placing both paws over the ravine in his stomach. The right Ermehn twirled their sword. "After what you did to Novi...I hope this hurts." Hector growled at the threat. "Novi was as much of a scumbag as you were...doesn't matter if he was young. He was...an Ermehn." "And you're a Canid. Evil, rotten and heartless." They raised their sword. "So I'm gonna enjoy killing you." [[The right Ermehn brought the sword down on Hector's neck and decapitated him->Perished 21]].

Hector darted right and swung at the right Ermehn. The blade slid through their neck and carved the soldier's head from their shoulders, sending it tumbling to the ground. Stumbling, their corpse teetered left and right before sprawling out across the mud. He turned, sword raised. The two remaining Ermehn struck his blade and entered a clash with him, using their accumulated strength to push him down. He resisted, holding them back. Two regular Ermehn would not best a Canid, let alone one. But, in that moment, Hector saw the archer fire from the corner of his eye. He yelped as the arrow tore into his shoulder, forcing his right arm down from the clash. Suddenly, the united strength of both Ermehn became overwhelming. They forced him down onto his knees, towering over him. //Crunch//. He yelled in pain as the Chief's axe flung towards him and ate into his back, cutting into his spine. He gargled and grunted, eyes wide as he attempted to resist the overwhelming pain and unstoppable Ermehn. His paw fumbled for the dagger in his belt but the agony rendered his arm useless and it could only flop against his side like a fish out of water. One of the two Ermehn drew a dagger. "How about this, Canid?" Hector grunted as the dagger embedded itself into his stomach, burrowing through flesh. With an arrow protruding from his shoulder, an axe in his back and a dagger in his stomach, he could no longer resist death. He fell onto his side and dropped his sword, rasping and wheezing. The two soldiers refused to show him mercy. They repeatedly stabbed him in the torso, yanking their blades out and then thrusting them back in. Hector could only gargle and choke, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. After the fifth stab, Hector Thornvallis was no more. [[The Chief watched on as his tribe soldiers continued to assault the dead Canid, letting out cries of vengeance for their slain allies and Novi->Perished 22]].

Hector stabbed left as he charged. The sword shot through the body of the left attacker, killing them instantly. Their corpse slumped to the side as Hector turned right, discarding any attention for the deceased Ermehn. He raised his sword as the two attackers swung their blades down, entering a clash. They wrestled and struggled, grunting and growling, but he held them back. Even the accumulated strength of two Ermehn was no match for him, let alone one. He saw the archer shifting position to get a good shot, unable to see past the backs of the two soldiers wrestling against him. Had he chosen the right soldier to kill, he would have left his side and back exposed to the Chief and the archer. He locked eyes with one of the two Ermehn. "Is that all you've got?" They bellowed at him. "You're weak!" "I'll gut you and cover this hillside in your innards, Canid!" "Let's see how well you talk without a //head//, Ermehn scum!" One of the two reached for a dagger, fumbling with their belt. Hector remembered [[Novi's dagger->The Dagger]] tucked away in his own belt, ready to be used. He knew remaining in the clash would seal his fate - he was immobilised and left with flanks vulnerable. If the archer reached their position, one well-placed shot would be all it took. But he could feel the two Ermehn beginning to weaken. [[If he shoved them both back, they'd topple over and be left defenceless->Overpower 2]]. All it would take to slay them would be two slashes at their throats and then he could focus on the archer.

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Be Patient]]

Hector held the sword up with his left paw. His arm immediately began to tremble without the support, barely holding off the four arms it faced. It would not last long without the support of his right arm. But, as the archer arrived on the left and knocked an arrow, he knew he wouldn't need such support. Paw flashing to his belt, he drew the dagger and thrusted it forward. It gnawed into the right Ermehn's stomach, drawing blood and staining the light fur crimson. They screamed and fell away from the clash, collapsing onto their side and rolling with paws clamped over the wound. This left their ally alone. Hector felt his left arm push them back, overpowering the enemy. He drove a knee into their stomach. They keeled, taken aback by the sudden attack, and could do nothing as Hector shoved them back. The Canid darted forward as the archer shot, sending their arrow whizzing into the hills and out of sight. Hector sliced at the Ermehn soldier. They screamed and staggered back, clutching the bloodied gash on their side, but did not collapse. They swung their sword in panic, hoping to catch the Canid in his panicked flurry of attacks, but Hector was not foolish enough to charge into the flashing steel. He waited, shifting position so the archer couldn't fire, and then attacked the Ermehn during a lapse in their defence. They screamed again, tears streaming down their face, and collapsed onto their back. Laying there, they let out a croak for mercy before their eyes went vacant and their body went limp. Hector turned, sword ready. He saw the archer readying another arrow, shifting position once more, but he saw the behemoth that was the Chief storming towards him. A thunderous look of rage sat upon his face, axe clutched in his paw. "Prepare to experience agonising torment, Canid!" As the Chief approached, Hector knew he had a choice. [[The archer->Charge the Archer]] was still a threat and, now that it was only him and the Chief, he could be shot easily without the risk of friendly fire. However, [[the Chief->Focus on the Chief]] was a force to be reckoned with. Not only could he throw his axe but the sheer size of the tribal leader was a cumbersome challenge. Hector had to be wary of taking his eyes off him.

Yelling, Hector utilised all the strength he could summon and pushed back against the duo. They slid back in the mud, hind paws scrambling for purchase. The right Ermehn continued to fumble for the dagger, struggling to unsheathe it in the panic of combat. The archer hurried to Hector's left flank, readying their bow. "Get off me, you scum!" As he was about to shove the two Ermehn onto the ground and slay them both, he felt the sting of the archer firing an arrow into his side. It burrowed into the space under his arm, summoning blood up from the crevice it made. He groaned and, immediately, felt his strength wane in the face of the Ermehn duo. Through his rage and adrenaline rush, he held his ground. "You're going to pay for that, you-" The Ermehn soldier unsheathed their dagger and stabbed him in the stomach. Hector grunted, eyes wide. He keeled over, pain blossoming from the site of insertion. Trembling, he fell to his knees as crimson poured from his stomach and below his left arm. With his left arm holding the Ermehn blades back, he reached forward for the Ermehn's dagger and tried to wrestle it free from them. "It's...gonna take more than that!" "Just die already!" The soldier yanked the dagger out, sending blood spattering to the mud, and then embedded it in Hector's throat. Hector felt warm blood pour from the gash over his throat, staining his fur and pouring down towards his uniform. He clutched at the dagger, dropping his sword to rest his paws on the grip. //I'm dying. They got me in the throat//. Summoning an untapped pool of courage, Hector yanked the dagger out and ignored the gushing blood. He levelled the dagger at the Ermehn soldier, swinging wildly with the desperation of someone who knew they were living their last moments. The Ermehn soldiers stepped back out of range, panting. Hector flopped onto his front. He continued to wave the dagger in front of him, trying to swipe the hind paws of his enemy that were just too far away. He tried to insult them, to threaten them, but all he managed were choked gargles and a string of indiscernible sounds. "Glh...gah...glrk..." His arm dropped to the mud. The dagger fell from his paw. His vision darkened and he went numb. All he could hear was the rain. [[Then, seconds later, he could hear nothing at all->Perished 23]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Attack Left]]

Dodging a swing from the Chief, he raced towards the archer. They aimed their bow for his face and fired. The arrow whizzed over his head as he ducked, pausing before advancing with sword raised and ready to tear through the remaining Ermehn soldier. They fired again. Hector dodged the projectile, closing the distance between them. He saw their paw flash to their belt, grasping the sleek form of a dagger that resembled a throwing blade he had seen in the inventory of a travelling Vulpin merchant. //Throwing knife//. If the archer was half as good with the dagger as they were with the bow, a direct charge would seal his fate. However, [[if he was quick enough and kept charging->Don't Stop]], he would be atop them before they had a chance to let the blade fly. Alternatively, [[he could throw himself to the side->Dive]] and then continue attacking. With the Chief not too far behind him, however, he feared that a stop would allow the behemoth to catch up and embed his axe head into his back.

Hector turned to face the Chief as they brought their axe back, aiming for his neck. The Canid dodged back out of the arc of the axe head, waiting for the right moment to strike. The archer fired and Hector didn't know what he had expected. Making short work of his stomach, the arrow struck Hector. He recoiled and staggered back, one paw reaching down to clutch the shaft of the embedded arrow, and that was the lapse in concentration the Chief needed. The leader kicked the Canid at his knee, forcing them to buckle. Hector tried to push himself up, readying his sword to strike back. //Crunch//. Hector Thornvallis died as soon as the Chief's axe tore into his skull, splitting his head. He went limp and the sword fell from his paw, held upright only by the metal lodged in his head. Vacant eyes stared forwards, glazed over. The Chief kicked him off, sending his carcass sprawling into the mud. "[[Vile creature->Perished 24]]."

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus can never falter->The Dagger]]

Hector persevered. A terrifying war cry echoed from his throat, formed from a concoction of rage, loyalty and undying courage. None of those bested a sharpened blade, however. Without any effort, the Ermehn unsheathed the throwing blade and hurled it at his head. Running too fast to stop, he could not divert his fate. The blade embedded itself in his head, nestling between his eyes. He pirouetted as he fell, his corpse stumbling over its own legs. He slid to a stop by the archer's hind paws, motionless and limp. The archer rolled Hector Thornvallis' corpse onto its back, reaching for the dagger. The Chief looked back at Lieutenant Volhim, scowling. "All this rescue attempt has done is kill more innocent people." "You're not innocent, don't fool yourself." "We are far more innocent than your murderous kind, lieutenant. We fight and kill to defend what little we have left. And monsters like //him//..." He thrusted a paw at the corpse of Hector Thornvallis, blood pouring from the crevice in his head. "...[[perfectly represent what it means to be a Canid->Perished 25]]."

Hector threw himself to the right as the archer hurled the throwing knife forwards, following it in the hopes that it would embed itself into the Chief. It missed by miles, landing discarded and dirty in the mud. The archer, swearing, unsheathed a dagger and charged. Hector stepped back as they swung for his throat. A dagger was not a blade to dismiss - despite it being shorter than his own weapon, one well-placed slice was all it would take to slay him. He swung with his sword. The archer ducked beneath it and stabbed for his chest. Hector knocked the swinging arm away with a wave of his left arm and kicked them back. Staggering, they teetered and risked collapsing backwards into the mud before they rebalanced. They both squared off with one another, eyeing their opponent's stance. "You are going to pay in blood for those you have murdered," The archer threatened. "For Jurra...Loshi...Gheran-" "When I'm done, no one will remember them," Hector growled. "And they won't remember you, either." The archer lunged, thrusting the dagger forward at his throat. Swinging his sword in front of him, he knocked it away and sent it flying from the archer's paw. It landed inside a vacant tent, sheltering itself away from the bloodied violence. Before Hector could react, the archer threw themself at him. Clinging to him, they did not relent in their attack. They clawed and scratched, hit and struck, tugged and pulled. "Get off, you freak!" Hector bellowed, shaking wildly to throw them off. Through the frenzy of the Ermehn attacking him, he saw the Chief hurrying over with axe at the ready. He knew that the manic archer being flung off his back was imperative to his survival. Either he could [[shake wildly in an attempt to loosen their grip->Shake]] or [[drive his elbow into their gut repeatedly->Elbow Gut]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Charge the Archer]]

Hector shook wildly. He writhed in the air, swinging his arms in a manic attempt to best the archer. He pivoted in alternate directions, hoping to cultivate enough momentum to hurl his uninvited passenger from his back. But it was no use. The archer maintained a steady grip, yanking his ears and shoving their paws into his face. Hector fought back, knocking their arms and resisting with all he could, but knew his time had expired as the Chief brought back his axe. The Chief drove the axe head into Hector's stomach. Screaming, Hector keeled over the axe as it punched through him. The archer jumped off his back, falling onto their rear and taking a moment to breathe. They observed the dying Canid, trapped on the sharp blade of the Chief's axe. Hector raised his sword to stab the Chief but the behemoth didn't entertain the idea. Knocking his sword out of his paw, the Chief punched him across the face. Blood flung from his nostrils and the corner of his mouth, sourced from the numerous ruptured organs that the axe had demolished. "Murderous monster!" The Chief spun one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, carrying Hector on the axe, before stopping suddenly and sending Hector flying back. The Canid flew a metre, crashing down to the mud and rolling into the centre of camp. Pain paralysed his body. He trembled and coughed up blood, rolling onto his front. "What a pitiful, pathetic example of a soldier," The Chief said as he approached. "My warriors died heroes. Valiant defenders of our tribe. You? You'll die a criminal and demon." "I'll die...killing Ermehn scum..." Hector growled, dragging himself towards a discarded blade. "There's no better way...to die...than that..." The Chief stepped on his legs, pinning Hector down. Unable to turn over or crawl further, he looked over his shoulder and growled at the behemoth. His tail remained stiff, too pained to move. "Aisling's finest monsters...slain in an ambush. You Canid die far too easily." The Chief raised his axe. "But I shouldn't complain about that. After all...the only good Canid is a dead one." Hector experienced a moment of unending and intense agony as the axe head burrowed into his back, cutting through him and shattering his spine. Then, [[he felt nothing at all->Perished 26]].

Hector drove the elbow of his free arm into the archer's gut. He felt the archer recoil, losing grip for a moment, but then held on. He repeatedly hammered their gut, striking them again and again with his elbow. They held on, trying to stall until the Chief arrived, but with every blow their grip continued to fail. "Get off!" Feeling his elbow strike their gut once more, Hector forced the archer off of his back. That moment of freedom allowed him the space he needed to turn with sword extended, cutting through the air. The archer, recovering, lunged for Hector. The sword met them first. They screamed as the metal slid into their side, breaking their ribs. Hector punched them and then kicked them off. They collapsed onto their back and lay there, twitching and gasping. The Chief came to a stop just before them, watching as yet another warrior perished. The archer gazed up at their leader. "K-Kill...him...protect...the...tribe..." They managed one last word. "Please..." Sigh escaping them, the archer fell still. The Chief's softened gaze remained focused on the corpse of the archer, blinking in disbelief. A second later, he rallied his spirits. He snarled and looked up at the murderer, gripping his axe. "What has this accomplished, monster? Killing innocent people? Torturing those who fight to live free and well? A sense of fulfillment? Of that power your race craves so much?" "Your tribe killed my comrades," Hector growled. "My friends. Someone I loved. You brought this on yourselves. If you hadn't have ambushed us, you would have been just fine." "You lie! If you had it your way, you'd have the Ermehn people as nothing but slaves like the Polcan trapped in Kishar! Don't preach such nonsense!" Hector knew the last barrier between him and victory stood before him. The towering behemoth that was the Chief awaited combat, axe ready and a look of vengeful rage that mirrored his own. A desire to shed blood that reflected Hector's rage. "This shall not end well for you or your lieutenant." Gripping his sword, Hector stood ready to face down the final adversary. "[[Then this is going to end terribly for you and your tribe->The Duel]]."

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Dive]]

The Chief thundered towards Hector with a speed surprising for a giant, swinging his axe at the Canid's head. Hector ducked down and rolled, arriving behind the Ermehn. He turned, swinging. The Chief knocked the blade away and swung back, cleaving through the air as Hector stepped out of the arc of his swing. "This is no longer a matter of Ermehn and Canid conflict. This is a matter of ridding Dunia of cruel monsters like you." "Likewise, you oversized fool!" Hector kicked forwards, aiming for the behemoth's iron gut. His hind paw struck the fur-covered abdomen yet bounced harmlessly off the muscular wall, dealing no damage. The Chief swung left and right. Hector put his sword in the way of the axe and heard the //clang// of their interaction, recoiling from every blow. He staved off death through these continious series of blocks and deflects, straining against the Chief's overpowering strength. The Chief jabbed with the axe, aiming for Hector's gut to wind him. The Canid intercepted and forced the axe right, shooting past his right side. He countered, swinging for the Chief's chest, but the behemoth beat him to it with a powerful kick to the chest. Grunting, Hector fell onto his back and rolled. He scrambled to his hind paws, taking a moment to recover. He snarled, ears folded back and tail swinging from left to right. There was no doubt that Hector Thornvallis was determined to butcher the Chief without a second thought. As the Chief stepped forward to swing, Hector saw an opening where he could [[stab at the enemy's chest->Take Opportunity]]. One well-placed stab was all it would take to end the fight there and then. The alternative was to [[step out the way of the swinging axe->Step Away]] and play it safe, waiting for a more secure opportunity to counter. However, there was the looming idea that such an opportunity would never come again.

With all the strength he could muster, Hector thrusted his sword forward at the Chief's heart. As if it was nothing, the Chief shifted to the left and avoided Hector's wielding arm, letting the sword cut through air. Before Hector could realise he was overextending, the Chief pinned his swinging arm beneath his own left arm and held him there, trapped. Yanking, Hector could not free his limb from the Chief. In that moment of distraction and desperation, Hector failed to see the axe cleaving towards his exposed side. //Crunch//. "Gah, //damn it//!" Hector looked down. The axe head had eaten into his side, cutting through the fabric of his uniform and into the flesh below. Blood poured down from the ravine, painting his pelt crimson. Pain surged from the crash site, preventing Hector from thinking logically. He fought with the desperation of a cornered animal, swinging and kicking to break free. As if cutting down a tree, the Chief removed the axe and swung again. It entered a few inches below the original entry wound, carving into Hector. The Canid could only manage a grunt as crimson poured, unable to resist. Falling to his knees, his vision began to darken and his body went numb. The last thing Hector Thornvallis saw was the Chief raising his axe. [[The last thing Hector Thornvallis felt was the axe head burrowing into his skull->Perished 27]].

Hector decided against such a forward attack and stepped back. The swing cut through the air, missing him by inches. He stabbed forwards. The Chief raised his axe at an angle and deflected the attack with the broadside of the axe head, knocking Hector to the right. Stumbling, he regained balance and attacked again. The Chief parried the blow and riposted, clashing against Hector's sword. The Canid took a moment. The behemoth was formidable in his defence and offence, impenetrable and stoic. Those that had fallen before him were far easier to slay, collapsing with screams and grievous wounds. But the Chief refused to give him any sort of advantage that a Canid usually held over an Ermehn. Hector returned to the fray. He slashed with his sword, aiming for the eyes, but the Chief did not falter in his defence. Knocking the attack away, he countered with a swipe. Hector blocked his riposte and stabbed for his abdomen, blade stopped inches from flesh by the Chief's deflect. "You shall die here, Canid! There's no escaping your punishment!" The Chief swung. Hector raised his sword to deflect, aiming it to parry the blow, but the Chief did not attack him directly. He swung and used the axe head as a claw to grab the blade, yanking back with all his might. The sword was dragged from Hector's paws by the axe and slid past the Chief's hind paws, arriving beside the corpse of the archer metres away. Hector stepped back, unarmed and vulnerable. His paw flashed to his belt to wield Novi's dagger. His paw felt nothing but the leather of his belt. He glanced right. There lay the corpse of the Ermehn he had stabbed in the struggle, [[dagger still protruding from their stomach->Hope]]. It was his only chance of survival. If he ran to it, he would have a fighting chance. It was better than nothing. But Hector knew the Chief would best him. Running away to rearm himself would not save him. He needed to [[tackle the behemoth->Lunge for Chief]] and wrestle his axe away from him.

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->The Duel]]

Hector turned and sprinted towards the dead Ermehn, powering across the central clearing and shooting around the dead campfire. He focused on the hilt of the dagger, knowing it was his closest and only option. A dagger would not hold off a sharpened axe but it would be better than facing an armed combatant with nothing at all. As Hector closed the distance, he heard the Chief grunt in exertion. Then he screamed as the axe embedded itself into his back. He collapsed onto his front, feeling the hefty weight of the axe clinging to his back. Growling, he pushed himself up onto his forearms and reached forward for the dagger. Arms trembling, he extended them as far as he could. The corpse of the Ermehn was too far away. The Chief stormed towards him. "Pitiful, pitiful. You are Aisling's finest yet, when you face an Ermehn strong enough to match your own strength, you crumble." Hector growled. "Don't...speak to me...about strength. You...won't last long...out here. My people...my king...will crush you like //cockroaches//." The Chief ripped the axe out, summoning a pained cry from Hector. He glanced to the restrained lieutenant, grinning. "Maybe, one day, your king shall do such a thing." He raised the axe. "But I know for certain that he won't save you from this." With a yell, [[the Chief brought the axe down onto Hector's spine and killed him instantly->Perished 28]].

"Time to die!" Hector flung himself at the Chief. Unexpecting, the leader was too slow to prepare for such an attack and fell backwards from the force of the Canid tackling him. They crashed into the mud, wrestling against one another with Hector straddling the Chief. He beat and struck the leader over the head, dazing him. "Give me that!" He reached for the axe, snarling. The Chief shoved a paw in his face and pushed him back, holding him out of reach. Hector struggled and shook his paw away, lunging for the axe. He attempted to close his paw on the grip and yank it free, climbing over the Chief. His paw collided with the shaft of the weapon and knocked it from the Chief's paw, sending it sliding away through the mud. He froze for a moment, watching his chance of victory slip away. The Chief roared and threw him off. Hector landed on his back beside the Chief, grunting as he struck the mud. Before he could stand, the behemoth threw himself down atop him and struck him across the snout. Hector yelped and his head shot to the side, aching. "I don't need an axe to slaughter you!" The Chief began to repeatedly beat him over the head, striking him from the left and right. Hector yelped and cried out, trying his best to fight back, but he struggled to free himself from beneath his weight. [[All he could do was shield his head->Defend]] and hope that an opportunity presented itself, enduring the berating. But Hector was still armed with his fangs. [[If he bit down on one of the Chief's arms or paws->Bite Him]], he could free himself.

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Step Away]]

Hector tucked into a ball on his side and shielded his head, clamping his eyes shut as every blow sent pain shooting through his body. His ears began to ring, wilting, and his tail curled beneath him. All he could do was snarl and yelp, waiting for the right moment. But the barrage was ceaseless. The Chief did not tire or grow exhausted, surging with rage. He brought down his clenched paws again and again, beginning to draw blood. Hector realised his mistake and tried to struggle again, opening himself up- He screamed as the Chief punched him in the side of the head, arms not up to protect him anymore. His face began to swell, reducing his field of vision, and blood dribbled. The bludgeoning did not end. The Chief pummelled him, bringing away crimson after every blow. The Chief stood. Hector lay at his hind paws, croaking and wheezing. He could not move. All he could was twitch, immobilised. "//Die//!" Bringing his hind paw up, [[the Chief stomped on Hector's head and killed him instantly as his skull cracked->Perished 29]].

Hector opened his mouth and thrust his head up at one of the Chief's biceps, clamping his fangs down on the muscle. The Chief roared as he sunk his fangs into his arm, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He sent the Chief reeling back, reaching to knock Hector away. Breaking free, Hector punched the Chief across the face. He rocketed back and collapsed, hurrying to his hind paws. Taking the moment to rearm himself, Hector sprinted over to the axe and picked up the weapon. It felt foreign in his paws, heavy and unwieldy, but it was better than nothing. The Chief stood, wiping away the blood from his mouth. "You are a fool if you think you can wield that." "You'll die all the same, Ermehn scum." Spitting at the ground, the Chief reached down for a nearby sword and scooped it up. He gripped it in his paw hard, as if he was trying to crush it into a million pieces. "Now...you die." The Chief charged, wielding the sword with the same intimidating skill as his axe. Hector brought the axe up and blocked the swing, attacking back. The swing was sloppy and slow, cruising through the air with formidable strength yet lacklustre speed. This summoned a mocking laugh from the Chief who slashed at Hector. The blade sliced his arm and left a shallow line of crimson there, oozing blood. "You cannot hope to win, Canid! You are just deceiving yourself!" The Chief, boasting superior agility and strength, attacked. Everything slowed to a trickle. Hector was confronted with a choice, one that would guide him to victory's relief or painful defeat. There was no time to consider picking up another weapon and the Chief was far too close to evade. He could only swing and hope for the best. Either he aimed for the [[leg->Leg]] or the [[chest->Chest]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Lunge for Chief]]

Hector swung, howling as he chopped at the Chief's chest. He saw the enemy's eyes shift onto the approaching blade, realising that he had plenty of time to stop before continuing his attack one Hector had missed. But, at the last second, Hector shifted target. He aimed down at the Chief's left leg and swung. //Crunch//. The Chief screamed in pain as the sharpened axe head tore into his lower leg, staining the surrounding fur crimson and leaving a sizeable gash in his flesh. He fell to one knee, eyes wide in shock of such a vicious blow being delivered. In this moment of weakness, he barely resisted as Hector yanked the sword from his paw and kicked him down. The Chief fell onto his back, crying out as he bled from his leg. Hector tossed down the axe. He readied his sword, stopping beside the wounded chieftain. They grunted and groaned, tears summoned by the pain, before glaring up at him. "You think you have won, Canid? You think this is victory? This only...feeds your downfall. The downfall of your people. The downfall of Aisling! The downfall of King Janus and his twisted generals! The downfall of evil, of-" Hector kicked his wounded leg. The Chief roared in pain but persisted. "You may have conquered my warriors. You may have conquered me. But the Ermehn people are //strong//. We have survived out here despite your cruelty. And, one day...//one day//...we shall burn your precious kingdom to the ground." The Chief expected some form of overt response. A threat, an attack, a curse. Something that indicated he had gotten to the Canid. But, as he looked up into the face of Hector Thornvallis, he did not see a person receptive to feeling and emotion. He did not see an individual that was capable of empathy...of mercy or remorse. All he saw was a Canid covered in the blood of his people, satisfied with his work. "You don't stand a chance," Hector said. "Aisling will never fall to your kind. We will continue to march out here and eradicate you //one// by //one//. We will keep mounting heads on our walls. We will keep spilling Ermehn blood." Hector raised his sword. The Chief tensed, anticipating death. "No matter how many of us you kill...we will not stop until you are stamped out like the disgusting, disease-ridden cockroaches you are." [[Hector stabbed the Chief in the torso->Slayer]].

Hector howled as he swung for the Chief's side, hoping to send the hefty axe head cutting through bone and flesh alike. Once the axe head had entered, the Chief's strength and speed would disappear within a fraction of a second. It would be whisked away by pain, leaving his enemy vulnerable and doomed. But, as the Chief saw the slow-moving axe head approach, he stopped and waited for it to swing past. Hector's attack missed, slicing through the air. Hector's eyes widened as the Chief stabbed forwards and punctured his heart. He reeled back, dropping the axe and clutching the blade. He looked down at it, trembling as he saw the steel penetrating his chest and piercing his heart. In seconds, his vision dimmed and his body numbed. He fell to his knees, finding himself unable to breathe as if his lungs had shut down. Dying in silence, Hector Thornvallis slid off the blade and lay dead in the centre of the camp. The Chief, panting, addressed the corpse with a venomous tone. "[[That black putrid heart beats no more->Perished 30]], villain."

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Bite Him]]

The Chief yelled as the blade pushed through his stomach. Hector didn't care. He brought the sword up and thrusted it down again, repeatedly striking the wounded Chief in the torso. Every strike was punctuated with a savage, animalistic cry from the killer. Blood poured from the numerous wounds punched through the chieftain. The number increased every few seconds, revealing more and more crimson. Hector stabbed him [[again->Again]].

Lieutenant Norlas sighed as he watched the recruits train before him, shifting his gaze from the rigorous soldier in the front to the pup slacking in the back rank. They struggled with every exercise, panting and wheezing. "Soldier, you there!" He bellowed, pointing to the recruit. The recruit looked up and saw the lieutenant pointing at him. He stood to attention, saluting. "S-Sir!" "What do you think you're doing? I've seen sickly pups stronger than you!" The rest of the cohort laughed, muttering to themselves. The recruit's face faltered but he remained standing, waiting to be dismissed. "W-What do you want me to do, sir?" "To be stronger, damn it! Back down on the floor and keep up! You are meant to be the king's finest defenders!" "Yes sir! Of course, sir!" "//Now//!" Whilst complemented by a chorus of laughter, the young recruit dropped down and resumed their exercises. Lieutenant Norlas continued to observe, his gaze frequenting the slacking recruit, before he sensed someone approaching. He turned as a soldier stopped beside him, leaning in. "Two of the soldiers back from the lost patrol, sir. It's Thornvallis and Volhim." Lieutenant Norlas' ears remained standing as he brought his head away from the mouth of the soldier, nodding. "Show me them. Hey, soldier! See to these idiots, will you?" "Of course, sir," A nearby soldier said. "All right, come on! Keep it going! Hey, you there, the lieutenant already told you to..." Their voices faded as Lieutenant Norlas followed the soldier across the courtyard, passing numerous cohorts of recruits training their hardest to impress their allies, their officers and their liege. However, as they neared the gates, he found most of them to be distracted. They stood, frozen, glaring at something. [[Lieutenant Norlas stopped beside his guide and saw them->Our Reunion]].

The wounded form of Lieutenant Volhim stood there, supported by the sturdy soldier of one of the entrance guards. He panted and grunted, bruised and beaten by some savage in the Northern Wastes. But Lieutenant Norlas was not too concerned with the lieutenant's situation. Instead, he was focused on the soldier beside them. Hector Thornvallis stood before him, standing tall and stoic. An abhorrent volume of crimson splattered his uniform and fur, staining him red. Blood clung to his sword and figure, refusing to let go despite the fervent efforts of the rain during their journey. In one paw he held a sack of mysterious goods and items, using one shoulder to hold them. "Where are the others?" Lieutenant Norlas said. Hector Thornvallis met his gaze with empty eyes, twitching." "They didn't make it. The savages ambushed us, killed them all. They got Vyra." "I'm sorry, Hector. I know you were close. You...are you injured? You're covered in blood." "I'm fine. This is all Ermehn blood." Hector said, saying 'Ermehn' as if it was the most disgusting word in existence. "How many did you kill?" His ears stood as he heard Lieutenant Volhim mutter something. "What was that, Lieutenant Volhim?" The lieutenant met his gaze, managing to look impressed. "He killed everyone. There was a whole tribe up in those hills, hiding in the caves. Hector came up to save me...killed all the soldiers and then killed their chief. Then, he went into the caves and killed the rest of them. He's a...soldier. He's a hero." Lieutenant Norlas looked back at Hector. The accomplishment distracted him from the wild look in his eyes. "Well, that is definitely good news. A chieftain //and// an entire tribe? That, to me, sounds like grounds for a promotion, Hector." The soldier smiled as if he wasn't covered in the blood of many dead Ermehn. That empty gaze persisted. "It would be an honour, sir." "I'll put in a good word with the generals. Now, guard, take Lieutenant Volhim to one of the doctors and have him seen to." The guard complied, leading the wounded Lieutenant Volhim to the keep of the garrison. The other soldiers loitered and the nearby recruits continued to observe the blood-covered Canid. [[Whether it was out of admiration or fear, Lieutenant Norlas didn't know->A Gift]].

Lieutenant Norlas' eyes shifted to the bag. "What's that, Hector?" Without hesitation, the soldier dumped the bag down to the ground. He reached towards the opening and tore it open, stepping back to reveal the contents. Lieutenant Norlas peered inside. The stench hit him before anything else did. Inside the bag lay tens of Ermehn heads, all sliced from their bodies. Blood matted the sides of the sack, long since dried. The terrified eyes of Ermehn tribe members glared up at the lieutenant, telling stories of the bloodshed they witnessed and the bloodshed that consumed them. Some had rotted, flesh decaying, whilst others had managed to stave off the transpiration of time. "All of the heads of their tribe, sir. Every last one." "You mean-" "Yes. I didn't spare any of them." Lieutenant Norlas paused, speechless. "Well...w-where's the Chief's head?" Without hesitation, Hector reached down into the back and rummaged through it. Lieutent Norlas watched, taken aback by the soldier's lack of disgust or response to the experience. Hector Thornvallis withdrew the head of the Chief, holding it by the fur atop his head. The Chief's eyes were wide, vacant, accompanied by a slackened jaw and limp tongue. His face was frozen in pain, suggesting he had fallen victim to a brutal death. Hector dropped the head and let it bounce off the dirt, rolling by his paws. "I made him pay for the patrol." Lieutenant Norlas glanced to the soldiers. They met his look with an equally perturbed yet impressed expression. "W-Wow, Hector...this will //certainly// get you a promotion." "They killed us so I killed them. Seems fair enough." "Indeed it does. You did good, Hector. You did more than good. King Janus and the people of Aisling thank you for your service." Lieutenant Norlas pushed the lurking guilt of the few innocents that may have perished as a result of Hector's rage to the back of his mind. He met the Canid's gaze. Unable to offer a paw due to the copious amounts of blood coating him, he only offered a smile and nodded. "You're a Canid through and through, Hector. There's no denying that." Other Canid would have been overjoyed with such appraisal. Their tails would have swung left to right, their eyes would have gleamed with pride and their arms would have flown up to salute the lieutenant in thanks. But Hector Thornvallis did no such thing. He stood still. He did not move. And, with that vacant look in his eye that sent chills down Lieutenant Norlas' spine, [[he just smiled->A Canid's Ending]].

A CANID'S ENDING Mercy is a coward's excuse. Remorse is a fool's afterthought. You butchered them all. Only the ghosts of those you slaughtered remain to tell the tale of their tragedy. Now, you stand tall. Bloodied. Insane. Heartless. Your name is uttered throughout the barracks of Deltrada. The highest generals speak of you in admiration, commending your acts. Even King Janus of Aisling is aware of your exploits. Was that all this was for? Glory? Reward? Fame? Or did you just enjoy it? Did you revel in death's allure? Does a soul resonate in your chest or is that the flames of some ungodly evil revealing itself? These are the choices you made. Are you willing to turn away from your unspeakable sins, of the travesties you enacted? Are you capable of [[redemption->Evil]]? Or are you smart enough to know you could never outrun your [[demons->Finale]]?

'The Northern Wastes of Dunia have been home to the Ermehn tribes for nearly one-hundred years. The barren plains, mountains and creeks are all those people possess, alongside whatever semblance of honour and dignity the Canid generals permit them to have. Internal conflict plagues most tribes, led by individuals hungry for power and influence. Most perish following their own schemes and agendas whilst those who prove too successful are squashed without hesitation by the [[Canid overseers->Canid Overseers]].

For a Tamian scout, such a climb would be nothing but a mere warm-up. Even for some agile and nimble Ermehn, the climb would be concluded within a single minute. For a Canid, however, it was not so easy. Hector eased himself up the wall, taking a moment between each platform before reaching for the next. The ledges were slippery under his paw, glistening with a watery sheen. With every time he pulled himself up closer to the cliff edge, the jagged rocks beneath him grew further away. He just had to focus on reaching the top. Up there, he knew the Ermehn camp awaited him. That den of murderers and savages celebrating their victory over a bloodbath that lay below. The bloodbath that had killed Vyra, Moltreig and all his other comrades. As he thought about their murderous transgressions, he felt himself power up the wall. He was climbing faster, shifting from platform to platform, and the idea of the Ermehn scum being not too far away only accelerated his speed. Something nagged at him. [[He had to slow down->Slow Down]]. The platforms glistened with a sheen of water. If he continued at such a speed, he would slip and plummet to his death. [[But he didn't want to slow down->Plummet 2]]. If he kept climbing fast, he'd make it there fast. He was no idiot. He'd make sure to grip each platform before continuing on. But he refused to spare any extra time being cautious when the murderous tribe lurked not too far away.

Disgruntled, Hector relented his speed. Vengeance was his top concern, parallel to Lieutenant Volhim, but all would be in vain if he perished climbing the damn rock face. Easing his way up the rock face, he struggled but endured. He had to blink away the endless cascading sheets of rain, trying to keep the looming presence of hope and success in sight. He reached upwards, grasping a platform. //Crack//. Yelping, the rock fell away beneath his paw. He fumbled against the wall, padding it for any alternatives, when he felt his paw grip another ledge and held on tight. He closed his eyes and tensed as hard as he could, waiting for the feeling of weightlessness to indicate his impending doom. But no such sensation came. The rock beneath his hind paws remained sturdy, firm, and he muttered thanks as he realised he was not to die in that moment. He took a few moments to scan for another ledge that would guide him upwards, squinting through the rain, before he located it off to his right. Utilising it, he continued his ascension to the cliff top. Minutes later, he felt his paws grasp flat, muddied earth. Hurrying, he heaved himself up onto the cliff edge and scrambled away from the ledge. Panting, his tongue dangled from the corner of his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly. He lay on his back and let the rain beat him for a moment. He had made it. But, with a low growl, he knew there was no time to waste. //They're here, somewhere. I need to find them//. Grunting, he forced himself up onto his hind paws. He stood on the tip of a cliff, which stretched back towards the hills and a formation of distant tents. His ears stood upon seeing the camp, listening for any indicators that the inhabitants still lurked there. He couldn't hear anything over the rain. Regardless, he knew that was his destination. Twirling his sword, [[he stormed towards the camp->Storm Ahead]].

Hector continued his climb, fury unrelenting. He hopped from platform to platform, letting out the occasional grunt and growl. He did not tire. With the killers so close, how could he insult his comrades' deaths by surrendering to weakness? But, as he leapt for the next platform, he realised his mistake. As his paw gripped the ledge, the slippery surface refused to offer any grip. He slipped. His eyes widened and he yowled in panic as he felt himself teeter back, scrambling for any nearby platforms. His paws failed to grab onto anything, slipping away from the holds he had planted them on. With that, Hector plunged. He shot down towards his demise, spinning and flailing through the air. The rocks rushed up to meet him, jagged and sharpened. "//AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH//-" Hector met his end upon the jagged stone. All the Canid managed as every bone in his body shattered and every organ ruptured was a small gurgle - a frail, feeble attempt to cling to life. For an agonising second, Hector remained completely conscious and endured ceaseless pain for an entire second. As his eyes focused on the dark skies above, his vision darkened. The flames of his rage, his vengeful fury, were blown out like a candle. [[Hector Thornvallis lay dead at the base of the cliff, shattered and broken in both body and mind->Perished 31]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Ascending 2]]

Hector snuck ahead, remaining low and scanning the area ahead for any signs of approaching Ermehn patrols. None seemed to be nearby, unsurprisingly certain that no Canid would manage to attack them from such an elevated position. He had reached the camp undetected. However, as he approached the camp and stopped beside a pair of large rocks, he peered right towards the opposite cliff edge. There, standing on the ledge, stood an Ermehn archer. They wore the usual sack over their head, enduring the rain as they peered out into the distance. Beyond them, over the side, he could see a pair of Ermehn soldiers guarding the path through the hills to the camp's entrance. The archer was pensive, thoughtful and distracted. But that wasn't an excuse. The mere sight of the archer summoned a growl from him. He suppressed it, glaring into their back, but could not walk on past. No matter how reasonable of a choice it was to spare them for the time being, he could not leave them alive after what they had helped to do his people. //You're going to die like they did//. He snuck forwards, sword at the ready. The archer remained oblivious, scanning the distant horizon in search of the answer to their thoughts. Answers they would never hear once Hector slit their throat. He felt his left hind paw push against a stone and send it clattering into another one with surprising volume. The archer, tensing, whirled around. Their eyes fell upon the crouched Canid. Hector froze, eyes clashing with the archer's. Neither said anything for a second. Then the archer reached for their bow. "Intruder over here!" Hector hurried forward, seeing the archer knock an arrow. He didn't know how good of a shot they were. Part of him thought it was best to [[dart to the side as they raised their bow->Dart to the Side]], taking a moment to stall his advance but also avoiding the projectile. However, the distance to arrive beside the archer was only a few extra metres. He could hear the commotion of soldiers from the camp and from the entrance on the hills, knowing the alerting cry had gotten their attention. [[He needed to kill the archer quickly->Don't Stop 2]], no stopping.

As the archer aimed, he sidestepped right. He felt the arrow cut through the air where he had just been standing, avoiding certain death. The archer, panic in their eyes, fumbled for another arrow from their quiver. Hector charged, sword swinging for their head. They abandoned their faith in archery, dropping their bow and ducking down. Unsheathing their dagger, they slashed for Hector's throat. He yanked himself away, taking a step back to give himself a moment of recovery. "Hey, what's going on over there?" Voices from the camp yelled. Hector growled at the sound of reinforcements. He needed this resolved quickly. The archer lunged, slashing with their dagger. He deflected the swing and pushed them away, striking back with a swipe. They screamed in pain as the blade bit at their side, leaving a nasty crimson gash but sparing their life. They stepped back from one another again, standing ready. "Come on, Ermehn," Hector snarled. "I'm right here. End me." Goaded, the archer lunged dagger-first. Hector stepped to the side and watched as the archer almost threw themselves off the side of the cliff, teetering on the edge and flailing their arms to regain balance. A second later they turned, eyes wide. Hector beheaded them in one swift swing of his sword. The headless archer stood still for a moment, frozen, before they toppled backwards over the cliff edge and plummeted to their doom. Their disemboded head accompanied them, plunging down to join their corpse. Hector heard the faint //crack// of bone against hardened and jagged rock. Instead of wincing in disgust, he scoffed. //Deserved worse//. "Hey!" Someone yelled. "What's going on?" Hector, ears standing, turned to face the direction of the voice. Silhouettes approached, obscured by the ceaseless rain fall, and he ducked away behind the large pair of rocks. He pressed himself against it, ears standing. "Where the hell is Huudayae?" One of the soldiers asked. "I heard them scream 'intruder'." The other said. "Something's not right. Spread out, all of you." Hector strained his ears. At first, he was optimistic. It sounded like only two soldiers had come to investigate the disturbance. Then, a moment later, it sounded like three. Then four. And, then, five. Swearing under his breath, Hector knew he was outnumbered. Five armed Ermehn, no matter how sloppy they were with the blade, faced him down. He hunkered down, thinking. "Where is Huudayae? Anybody seen her?" Someone asked. "Not here - she didn't go to the caves, did she?" "She's on guard duty. She'd be out and about." Hector heard two approaching voices, one on either side of the rock. They were unknowingly pincering him, pushing on both sides. Once they turned the corner, he was dead. He had to do something before they arrived. [[He had to leap out and seize the initiative while he still had it->Initiative]]. But he faced five Ermehn. He could only get one of them down before the others would converge, leaving him alone against four. It would be an uphill battle, not to mention that he was fighting at a disadvantage as the enemy had him flanked from all sides. [[He needed to wait for a better opportunity->Wait 2]].

Hector continued his charge, raising his sword. "I'm going to gut you, Ermehn!" The archer aimed and fired. Hector, as the arrow struck him in the chest, hadn't known what he had expected. He grunted as the arrowhead embedded itself in his chest, bringing him to a stop. Trembling, he fell to one knee with a paw up to where he had been hit. He swooned momentarily, blinking in disbelief. "You shot me, you-" He looked up to the sight of flashing steel and the painful sensation of his throat being slit. Gasping and choking, Hector clutched his bleeding throat. The archer stepped back, bloodied dagger held in one gloved paw. Soldiers from the camp arrived but stopped metres away, spectating the death of the surprise visitor. Hector slumped down to the ground, strength fading. His vision darkened. His arms fell away from his throat. His hearing faded to silence. He stopped resisting. "Damn...Erm...ehn..." [[The last thing Hector Thornvallis saw was the masked face of the archer leering down at him with disgusted eyes->Perished 32]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Storm Ahead]]

Hector hunkered down. As much as he wanted to shred every last Ermehn he laid his eyes on, he needed to remain cautious. Blindly throwing himself against five Ermehn would not work well for him. Readying his sword, he waited. "Anything?" One of the approaching pair called. "Nothing!" The partner responded. "Something's up." "You think it's a Canid?" "No one saw anything coming up the path. There's no way they could have got up here, otherwise. Might be someone trying to run off." The two Ermehn padded towards him, unknowingly converging on the culprit. Hector shrunk down, preparing himself for a battle. If he dealt with the first adversary and then quickly turned to confront the second, there was a chance he could get rid of two enemies before anyone knew where he was. Ears standing, he listened to them drawing closer. And closer. And closer. And [[closer->Closer]].

Hector, snarl rising in his throat, clambered up onto the rock he hid behind. The two approaching Ermehn soldiers looked up as they saw the attacker reveal themselves, readying their blades. "Over here!" One yelled. "They're over here!" "I'm going to kill every last one of you!" Leaping, Hector threw himself at the Ermehn to the left. He raised his sword above his head, prepared to thrust it down into their chest. He collided with the soldier and knocked them to the ground, collapsing with them. He gasped, eyes widening. The Ermehn froze with him, realising the same thing. They both looked down. Hector's sword had missed their stomach by inches, pointing down against the dirt. Rain drummed against the steel, washing away the dirt and blood that had clung to it. But that wasn't the problem. The Ermehn's sword was rammed through Hector's midsection, blood dripping from the insertion site. Choking, Hector reached for the embedded blade as if to test the reality of his wound. The Ermehn, regaining confidence, twisted the sword. Eyes bulging, Hector went taut in pain. "How do you like that, Canid?" Hector was too weak to answer. [[Gargling his last, Hector Thornvallis slumped down against the Ermehn, eyes vacant and body motionless->Perished 33]].

YOU HAVE PERISHED [[But your loyalty to the people of Aisling and King Janus cannot falter->Dart to the Side]]

As Hector tensed in anticipation, expecting the Ermehn to turn the corner and detect him, he heard a cry from the cliff edge where the archer had stood. "Hey, we've got a problem here!" The other Ermehn guards hurried over to their ally, questioning their alert. Hector took his chance - he rounded the corner and stabbed at the distracted Ermehn, embedding his blade into their gut. They tried to scream but Hector muffled them by clamping a paw over their mouth, knocking them to the ground. "Stop squirming, murderer." Hector looked at them in the eyes as they died, their resistance diminishing. "That's for Vyra." Whimpering, the Ermehn went still and their eyes went vacant. Hector kept his paw over their mouth, ensuring they were dead, before he stood and yanked his sword out. He peered around the rock at the other four Ermehn, observing the situation. All four of them stood on the ledge, peering down at the headless remains of their friend. Without hesitation, he snuck towards them. "Did she...kill herself?" One suggested. "Her head is gone. There's no way she did that." Another said. "Maybe one of the rocks took her head off as she fell?" "Don't be stupid. We need to tell the Chief about-" Hector shoved one of the soldiers forwards. They tipped over the side and let out a terrified scream as they plummeted towards Huudayae's fate. The others turned, fumbling for their weapons. "How the-" Interrupting them, Hector turned and slashed their throat. They gargled and collapsed onto their side, blood pouring from the wound. He turned and stabbed the second Ermehn as they raised their sword, killing them instantly and kicking them off the blade. "Gheran!" The other yelled. "Damn Canid, you'll pay for that!" They charged, swinging, but Hector refused to stand still. He sidestepped the swing and knelt, letting the Ermehn barbarian stumble past, before he swung at their hind paw. They screamed as the metal bit into their leg, tripping and slamming down onto their front in the mud. Hector raised his blade, aiming it at their chest. "Hey, someone hel-" Hector silenced them by thrusting the sword into their chest, pinning them there. They spluttered, trying to push him away with their waning strength. Their eyes swivelled in their sockets, blinking rapidly. Satisfied, Hector leant in. "No one is going to help you now." The Ermehn attempted to plead, grasping at his face, but life soon escaped them. They slumped down and lay still, eyes wide and unblinking. Hector ripped the sword out. His eyes fell upon the corpses of those he had killed yet no form of remorse or guilt was summoned. Conscience resided in the back of his mind, locked away in a cage and imprisoned by his hatred. He felt no sympathy. No empathy. [[Only unbridled, unending fury->Unending Fury]].

Storming through the rain, Hector approached the colony of empty thread-bare tents and hollow crates. He ignored the poverty that clung to the camp like a pestilent plague. Sympathy refused to surface. His ears stood. "What do we do, Chief?" An Ermehn said. "Maintain a perimeter," A rumbling voice answered. "We have an intruder here, clearly. The other patrol will deal with them. Where are the mothers and the young?" "In the cave, Chief. All ready sheltered in the havens." "Then get to work." "All right, you heard the Chief! Spread out!" Hector peered through a crack in between two tents. He saw a squad of five Ermehn soldiers disperse throughout the camp, clutching their weapons and scanning their vicinities. "You're a bunch of idiots...all of you..." Ears standing, Hector shifted his position and peered through the gap again. A rectangular clearing formed between the tents, metres in diameter. A campfire sat in the middle of it all, long since extinguished to the point where not even vapours rose from the dead embers. None of the squad patrolling the camp attempted to rekindle the fire, knowing they could not best the rain. He saw the lieutenant. A metre or so before the fire, tied to a wooden pole with his arms above his head, knelt Lieutenant Volhim. The Canid lieutenant boasted numerous bruises and swellings from a beating Hector had not been present to witness, leaving him weakened and fragile. Blood dribbled from his nostrils. His top had been removed, leaving him half-naked and exposed to the brutal rain. He was looking off to the left at someone hidden by the tent. "You hear me, you oaf? You're just savages. Dumb, idiotic savages that can't see beyond their own nose." "How cute," That deep rumbling voice said. "[[You Canid really do have a way with words, don't you->Behemoth 3]]?"

Hector watched a behemoth step out from behind the obscurity of a nearby tent and approach the captive. He stood taller than anyone else within the camp, most certainly towering over Hector and any other Canid. The Ermehn's face was adorned in numerous tribal tattoos and markings, more so than any regular soldier he had stumbled across so far. Experience radiated from the numerous scars and wounds left emblazoned on the flesh beneath his dark fur. An axe sat snug in the belt of the giant, sharpened and ready to tear flesh. Upon seeing the behemoth, Hector tightened his grip on his sword. [[Then his eyes fell upon what dangled from the Ermehn's belt->Discovery 3]].

From his belt dangled several fur pelts, accompanied by the severed tails of Canid soldiers. They had a sheen to them, glossed over by the water, but it didn't distract Hector from the horrid trophies any less. Such a prolific figure could only be the fabled Chief all the Ermehn had been referring to. "You're all talk and no steel, lieutenant. A //c'oth//. Your soldiers are dead and no one is coming to save you. I suggest you start cooperating whilst it's in your best interest." "You think...strolling over here with all those pelts changes anything? I'm not scared of dying. I'm not scared of pain, either. So if you plan on killing me you might as well do both of us a favour and end me already." "Not yet. We still need to have a chat about..." Their voices trailed off. Hector shifted his focus from the conversation and his hatred. Instead, he focused his attention on the patrols that lurked in the canals of the camp. If he wanted to confront the Chief, he needed to do so without much interference. The rest of the tribe had retreated to the caves - all he had to do was eliminate the patrol and then he'd be free to face the Chief. He snuck down a passage between two lines of tents, shifting his gaze from left to right in search of nearby enemies. Finding none, he continued his approach. Movement. He darted to the side. A pair of Ermehn loomed ahead of him, talking in hushed voices. "I'm getting worried about the group we sent over there," One said in a feminine voice. "They've been gone a while and it's so...quiet." Their partner shrugged and gestured something. "Right. Maybe I am just worrying about things. I hope they're all okay, anyway." That wishing of good health may have hinted that the Ermehn people were not as savage as he had thought them to be. That they were capable of kindness and concern. That they worried like anyone else did. That they felt like anyone else did. That they had a heart. But Hector ignored such signs and, instead, clutched his sword. Either this fight began by killing [[the talker->The Talker]] or by killing [[the silent one->The Silent One]].

Hector snuck forwards and aimed his blade at the talker's back, suppressing a snarl. "The Chief's plans are...optimistic, at best. But I can't stop thinking about what would happen if they worked. If we actually made it to-" Thrusting his sword into their back, they let out a cry of pain. He kicked them off and turned on the silent one, the talker slumping down to the ground as she whimpered and cried. Their partner took a step back, startled. "This is for Moltreig!" He stabbed them in the stomach. They shrieked and keeled over, dropping their weapon and grasping the blade that protruded from their torso. Hector kicked them off and sent them staggering into a tent, their corpse collapsing with it. "Hey, what's going on over here?" A trio of Ermehn, all of which were the rest of the squad, turned the corner. Their faces softened in surprise upon seeing Hector. A mere second later, however, their faces hardened and they charged. "It's a Canid!" "They got Jurra and Loshi, the monster!" "You're gonna die, Canid!" Hector dove for the first and swung. They deflected and kicked him back, almost sending him into a tent. The second tried to follow up their ally's attack, stabbing forwards, but Hector recovered. He slashed at their stomach as they passed. They yelped and fell onto all-fours, one paw clamped over their wound. "Kill them already!" They bellowed. Their two allies charged at the same time, aiming for Hector's face, but he did not accept his fate. He rolled between them, arriving at their rear. He turned and slayed the first, impaling them on his sword, before turning on the second and swinging hard at their neck. Their head slid off their shoulders with some resistance, bouncing to the ground. The decapitated corpse stumbled around before collapsing, blood pouring from the stump. He turned his sights on the downed Ermehn. "Damn you, Canid! Damn you and Aisling and your evil king! Damn you! //Damn y//-" Hector stabbed them. His sword ate into their chest and silenced the Ermehn for good, drawing blood. Other than the rain, all fell silent. Hector Thornvallis, seething, [[stormed into the clearing->The Clearing]].

Hector crept forwards, eyes focused on the silent figure to the right. They nodded along as their partner spoke, gesturing in response. "The Chief's plans are...optimistic, at best. But I can't stop thinking about what would happen if they worked. If we actually made it to-" Hector stabbed the silent one in the back. They shrieked in pain and fell to their knees, reaching behind them for the metal sword lodged between their shoulder blades. Hector kicked them off and turned on the talker, watching as they slid their blade out from their belt. "Loshi, no!" She swung, yelling out as she did so, but Hector parried her with ease. He forced her blade down and positioned his own in front of her stomach, thrusting it into her torso. She screamed and keeled over but attempted to keep fighting, swinging with her free paw to hit him across the face. Without guilt or remorse, Hector slid the blade out and brought it down on their back. The Ermehn could only manage a grunt as they collapsed, twitching. "I'll...kill...y...y..." They sighed, breathing their last. "Hey, what's going on over here?" A trio of Ermehn, all of which were the rest of the squad, turned the corner. Their faces softened in surprise upon seeing Hector. A mere second later, however, their faces hardened and they charged. "It's a Canid!" "They got Jurra and Loshi, the monster!" "You're gonna die, Canid!" Hector dove for the first and swung. They deflected and kicked him back, almost sending him into a tent. The second tried to follow up their ally's attack, stabbing forwards, but Hector recovered. He slashed at their stomach as they passed. They yelped and fell onto all-fours, one paw clamped over their wound. "Kill them already!" They bellowed. Their two allies charged at the same time, aiming for Hector's face, but he did not accept his fate. He rolled between them, arriving at their rear. He turned and slayed the first, impaling them on his sword, before turning on the second and swinging hard at their neck. Their head slid off their shoulders with some resistance, bouncing to the ground. The decapitated corpse stumbled around before collapsing, blood pouring from the stump. He turned his sights on the downed Ermehn. "Damn you, Canid! Damn you and Aisling and your evil king! Damn you! //Damn y//-" Hector stabbed them. His sword ate into their chest and silenced the Ermehn for good, drawing blood. Other than the rain, all fell silent. Hector Thornvallis, seething, [[stormed into the clearing->The Clearing]].

Hector Thornvallis, bloodied sword in paw and muddied uniform draped over him, stepped out into the central clearing. He glared at the behemoth that was the Chief. They stood close to Lieutenant Volhim, faced away from Hector and with axe drawn. They stood still, calm and surprisingly collected. Silence. After a few seconds, the Chief spoke. He did not turn to face Hector. "Do you gain a sense of pride from killing innocent people? People trying to survive in a wasteland where they cannot leave?" "No Ermehn is innocent. I know that for a fact." "And from what bed of lies did you hear that from? Your generals? Your king? The sadists that you praise as soldiers? All we want is to live, Canid. We want to survive." "You don't deserve to. You killed my comrades. You killed Vyra and Moltreig. You killed them all. You killed someone I loved. And I've come here to settle that score." "There is only one way this ends, Canid." The Chief turned, a thunderous expression of hatred and loathing upon their face. "With your pelt on my belt and your head on a pole. For all the families you've despaired today...for all those you've destroyed...I will slaughter you." "Just like I slaughtered Novi?" The Chief's face fell, ears folding and tail curling. "What...did you just say?" "Novi. That runt of yours who came down to kill one of my allies? I //killed// him. He's dead. And he deserved //every last moment// of that pain." Bowing his head, the Chief commemorated the loss of the young Ermehn in silence. Hector watched, sword at the ready, and waited to attack. The Chief looked back up at him, a renewed hatred lingering in his eyes. "This will not end well for you or your lieutenant." Gripping his sword, Hector stood ready to face down the final adversary. "[[Then this is going to end terribly for you and your tribe->The Duel]]."

And [[again->Again 2]].

And [[again->Again 3]].

And [[again->Again 4]].

And [[again->Slayer 2]].

With a final snarl, Hector stabbed down on the Chief's heart and twisted the blade. He looked down at the face of the Chief. His eyes were vacant, glazed over and lifeless. His damp pelt was coated in mud, blood and the now faded tattoos of his tribe. Crimson dominated his midsection, having escaped from the wounds he had left. The Chief of the tribe, along with his soldiers, was no more. Hector spat on the chieftain's carcass, sheathing his sword. "Pathetic." He strode towards Lieutenant Volhim. The lieutenant stared at the soldier with mouth agape, eyes wide and body taut. His eyes shifted to the numerous corpses around the camp, unable to believe what he was witnessing. "You...killed all of them. Alone." "I did." Hector said, yanking his dagger out of a dead Ermehn's stomach. "How? You were outnumbered. You didn't stand a chance." "They're just Ermehn. Simple enough." Hector answered each question with a cold, harsh tone. The sight of dead Ermehn, slaughtered and slain, did not faze him. Why should it have? He had done good work for his country. The savages brought such a fate on themselves. "I'm impressed, Hector. Now, come on, get me off this thing." Hector stepped towards the lieutenant, readying his sword to free him, but stopped as his ears stood. He turned back to face the caves. He heard crying Ermehn youth from deep within the caverns, their voices echoing out to the camp. The shushing mothers followed seconds later, soothing them as best they could. The tribe was still alive. In that moment, Hector felt something different from vengeance. Something completely foreign to the concept. What he felt was a separate emotion, stemming from the chaos of the bloodshed he had indulged in during his time in the Northern Wastes. The idea of the tribe still lurking in the caves did not revive that now deceased vengeful rage. Instead, it birthed an engulfing sensation of excitement. He grinned, gripping his sword. "Stay here, lieutenant." "W-What? What are you doing, soldier? We...have to go!" "I've got business to deal with." Lieutenant Volhim watched as the soldier strolled off towards the caves, disappearing behind the tents aheads. He knelt in the rain, panting and trying to listen to what the soldier was doing. Seconds later, he heard a howl. It echoed from the caves, bouncing off the walls of the caverns. Following that, he heard the terrified screams of the tribe inside the cave, [[succeeded by the sound of a sword slicing through flesh->Deltrada 5]].