The Old City

0.55: Marcus vs Firkaan Part 1

"Do you want to see more of the world?" asked the merchant.

"I have never left the desert. There is more than enough here to sate my curiosity," replied the wolf.

"There is only sand here. Would you rather be a great Tike trapped in this small pen, or allow yourself the chance to actually be great? I know what I would want."

"You want to know you are great."

"I want to be the best. The richest. The strongest. That's the only way you can protect yourself in the long run – if everyone is so in awe of the things you have that they subordinate themselves to you."

The wolf wondered about this. He was not in awe of the merchant. In fact, he found many of the man's positions distasteful. His younger self might have started a fight over the man's presumption, but he had changed.

"I'm not interested in that, but I now owe a debt. If that is what you want, then I will help you achieve it. Where do we go first?"

The merchant grinned, greed in his eyes. "Where else, but the source of all this mayhem? The root of the war. Soran."

The Rose Path

Marcus stopped so suddenly that Alaria walked into him. "Watch where you are going!"

A man stood in the middle of the road, several yards away and staring at them. He wore a light cloak and was of tall build, with dark, hairy arms. Marcus stared back, frozen in place Clearly, they knew each other. Both men's eyes glowed with fiery recognition. Marcus inched his hand into Alaria's and waited.

Then the werewolf exploded.

His rippling muscles ripped through the cloak and his skin grew thick with fur. The transformation shook his body, contorting it into gnarly positions, and his bones crunched unnaturally as they reformed into their lupine structure.

Alaria had never seen a werewolf before. Hell, she had never seen a wolf. The creature towered over the humans nearby, who now sprinted away in terror. Its maw stretched forward as its teeth grew sharp and long. Yellow eyes deepened, its black pupils morphing from circles to slits. Claws like knives sprouted from its fingertips – the creature flexed its fingers as though feeling out the boundaries of its new skeleton. The muscles in its legs grew taught and lengthened, covering the knee that buckled backward into its new position.

The Path erupted into chaos. Hundreds of people had been exploring the area. Most just wanted to look at the magnificent mansions and people. They could never have afforded it, but there was still joy at witnessing beauty.

Instead, they witnessed brutality. The wolf howled, and many of the scattering people covered their ears in pain. The sound itself shattered nearby windows, spraying glass onto the road. Passersby recoiled as the shards cut into their skin, then they continued to run away.

Alaria wanted to run, but she was still holding Marcus's hand, whose grip was like iron. "What is going on?" she demanded. Marcus said something in reply, but she couldn't hear him over the shouting nearby. She recovered her wits and pushed him away. If the wolf was after Marcus, she had to make it clear she wasn't with him. "Let go of me! I told you I didn't want to leave the Huron House!"

The werewolf stalked toward them with its powerful hind legs. It carved a wide arc with its arms, ripping apart a nearby food stand that stood in its way. Debris of wood and smashed apples littered the ground as he continued to prowl after them.

Marcus looked around the now-clear area and wrapped her arm over his shoulder. "Close your mouth!"

The world extended backward.