Heart of Oak

Falcher's Grand Escape

Having fled off into the night, Falcher darted down alleyways, narrowly avoiding running guards. The library fires occupied the entire city; it seemed. The further away he ventured, the fewer guards he saw. That library, as dusty as it was, was of considerable importance to the humans.

He remembered the fellow he'd met earlier that day. He said he was going to be down by the docks. However, this city was a massive frontier stronghold for Huma, a sprawling metropolis of nearly a million in size. Getting to the docks all while staying out of sight of the town guards was no easy feat.

He slowed down to a calm walk once he was a dozen city blocks away from the blazing inferno. He raised his snout and sniffed the air. It was still salty, which meant the docks weren't too far away, but the choking odor of wood-burning smoke began wafting toward him. The flames hadn't jumped buildings yet, or so it looked. The city garrison would likely be preoccupied with putting it out for a while. He had some time to breathe, even if only for a few minutes.

The alleyways were surprisingly empty. It seemed even the riff-raff had a 'home' of sorts to spend their nights. He now had free rein to travel throughout the city. He leaned out from around the corner of a building and peaked into the roadway. No guards were in sight, but there was someone just down the road, dressed in illusive black garbs, appearing as if blurred in perpetual motion despite standing still. Falcher squinted. "Illusion magic?"

Then suddenly, there was a knife pressed up against his back. A low growl sounded off from behind him. "An intelligent wolf-kin, tell me, furred one, what are you doing?"

Falcher slowly raised his hands and turned his head, getting only a glimpse of the man, or rather beast, behind him. It was more wolf-like than humanoid, deformed, and thinly haired. His eyes glanced towards the sky, a full moon. "That explains the growl..." he mumbled to himself.

"Answer my question. You with the city guard?" The werewolf impolitely asked.

"Let me counter you with the obvious. Do I look fucking human?" Falcher said, dropping his arms to his side. "Why on Oak's green fields, would I, a wolf-kin, work with these dipshit humans?"

"Because you blew our plans before we were ready!" The werewolf growled.

"Plans? What plans?" Falcher slowly turned about, still very aware of the knife being pointed at him.

The werewolf took a step back, getting a better view of Falcher's wolf-like features. "Fuck, I wasn't supposed to say that. Well, guess I have to kill you."

"I'd rather not. It would draw attention away from that fire and get us both into deep shit." Falcher countered.

There was a sudden echoing of howls from all across the city, followed by alarm bells mere minutes later. The city was now awake and under attack.

The werewolf lowered his knife. "You're coming with me now. I don't have time to kill you."

"I don't want to be in this city any more than I have to be. I'm trying to get to the docks so I can get a boat out of here."

"The docks are crawling with guards at night. You won't make it. That said, I won't let you leave, regardless." The werewolf grabbed Falcher's shirt collar.

Falcher bared his fangs, growling back. "Let go, you filth." He unsheathed his claws and slashed at the werewolf. The creature let go and reeled back, holding the side of its jaw. Four deep claw marks drew blood from his jowls. "You fucked up"

Falcher drew his rapiers, tossing the books he was carrying to the ground. He took a formal fencing stance, pointing the tips of his blades at the werewolf. "Try me, beast. I serve the Oakengrove. I will not fail him."