Baby elephant trunk snake

I have a loose plan for this and want to see where it goes.
Chapter 1 - Stranger
When Daglan woke up that morning he didn't see anything unusual. He had awoken from a drop of water falling from the ceiling as he did many mornings. His best friend Rozere was in the kitchen with her father cooking what smelled of eggs. The sun was shining through the cracks in the curtains and holes in the walls as it always did. What felt different? Then he heard voices outside, voices that grew louder and louder. At this point Rozere and her father Koshu had heard the commotion as well and stepped outside to see what it was. Daglan hastily followed suit, after finding his tunic and boots.
Lying on the ground outside was a young man, no older than 25. He lay face up in the dirt wearing only baggy purple pants and a black conical hat covering his face. His long black hair seemed to be tied at the base of his head in a long spiky ponytail, his slender muscular body was covered in dozens of battle scars, and at his waist was a black katana with its sword tied firmly inside its sheath. Almost the entire town had crowded around him, murmuring and shifting anxiously. It wasn't often people arrived in town, mostly just traders on their way to and from Inoris, and that too was a rarity.
"Back now people, give this man some room! And for the love of Reza, quiet!" Barked Doc Silvis as she pushed through the crowd. She immediately knelt down and felt his neck with her fingers. She paused for a moment and gave a very annoyed sigh, slapping away his hat. "He's alive alright. This dumbass is sleeping in the street." She gave the stranger a hard slap across the face, one that would have probably knocked him out, had he been awake. The crowd watched in awe as he yawned and scratched his nose, barely affected by Silvis.
"What should we do?" Someone asked.
"Do you know who he is?" Asked another.
As the murmurs heighted Daglan could tell Silvis was getting fired up, over the years Daglan had gotten to know Silvis quite well, with all his escapades outside the town walls. Daglan knew better than anyone that Silvis hated when a patient ignored her, and more so when she had to repeat herself.
"I said quiet! Don't you lazy bums have more important things to do?! Livani! Koreso! Aren't you two on watch?! Scram the lot of you!" A wave of fear crashed down upon the crowd and everyone began to disperse. All but Daglan, as Rozere pulled on his sleeve.
"Come on Daglan," she hissed, keeping an eye on Silvis like she was some wild animal, "You don't want to make her angrier."
"I'll be fine," he whispered, without looking back, his eyes stuck on the sleeping man. What was this feeling? It was like the feeling he got when Silvis healed his wounds, but not as warm. Almost closer to the feeling he got when abominations were near, when he ventures past the walls, but not as malicious. Before he knew it he was kneeling next to Silvis, watching her run her hand across his body, her hands glowing faintly, his curiosity bubbling.
"He isn't cursed or hypnotized, I can't feel a single thing wrong with him. I do believe this man is really just asleep, and slept through a slap in the face." Silvis sighed. After a few moments she looked at Daglan with a tired smile, then frowned. "Thanks for being quite Daglan, now since you're gonna bum around, get to work hauling this bastard back to my infirmary and don't let him out of your sight. I want to know as soon as he wakes up."
Daglan looked around to ask Rozere for help but she was already gone, how long had he been watching this stranger and Silvas? He looked down at the smiling, snoring face of the stranger, scooped under his arms, and with much difficulty began dragging the older, bigger boy to the infirmary.
The infirmary was quiet today, there hadn't been a major abomination attack in quite a few weeks which didn't happen often. It wasn't long before Rozere came in with a grimace on her face and her fingers on her nose.
"Honestly," she said in that strange nasally voice when you hold your nose, "I hate how much time you make me spend here. Between you getting hurt and my dad making me help Silvas, I can't get away!" She plopped down next to him and sighed. "So what's with this guy? Why are you still here with him?"
"Silvas asked me to watch him and tell her when he wakes up. Apparently I can't let him leave till she talks to him." He shrugged, trying more to convince himself. She eyed him suspiciously, but immediately dropped the subject.
"Did you notice his sword was tied closed? I wonder what that's about?" She reached out and placed a hand on his sword, and just then the weird energy the stranger gave off changed from similar to those of the abominations , to even scarier than anything he'd ever felt from them. Rozere fell to her knees and screamed as the stranger stood over her. When had he stood up?! Daglan shot to his feet, a smile ripping across his face as excitement crackled through his body. He prepared to defend his friend, when just as quickly as the evil energy had manifested, it disappeared. In fact the feeling Daglan had been getting from the stranger had all but subsided completely.
He stared at Daglan and Rozere with a confused look. When Rozere had eventually stopped screaming, Daglan held out his hand to help her up. Daglan’s mind raced with questions but could he do nothing but stare at the stranger as he stared back.
“Uh, hello-” he began and just then Silvas and Koshu burst through the door with Livani and Koreso close behind. Koshu sprang in between Rozere and the stranger, towering over him.
"What did you do to my daughter!" He said through gritted teeth. The stranger scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth when Rozere spoke up,
"It was nothing dad, he just woke up and scared me! Look at me I'm fine, now would you stop!" But Koshu didn't flinch, not until Silvas spoke up.
"Back off Koshu, Rozere is right, she's fine, and this boy is obviously no danger at the moment." He mumbled something under his breath but did as he was told . "Yeah, listen to Silvas and not me." Rozere grumbled, crossing her arms.
"Now listen here young lady, you will show your aunt some resp–" Koshu began but Silvas smacked him in the back of the head.
"Now isn't the time, Koshu, take her and go," she glared at the stranger, who was still smiling awkwardly and scratching the back of his head.
“Everyone out, now.”
"Uh, where am I? He eventually stammered.
"Daglan, out." Silvas said forcefully, without taking her eyes off the stranger. As well as Daglan knew Silvas, he'd never seen her this worked up, not even about the abominations . She was so strong-willed, so much more than anyone else in town. He had heard stories about Silvas, but only bits and pieces around town, probably all made up. Still there was one he heard more than others, he had heard before she lived in Graybarrow she had fought in some kind of war.
Daglan sat outside the infirmary trying to hear as much as he could. Wondering what could have gotten Silvas so worried, and if that man was even human. He could barely hear anything, mostly Silvas's mumbled questioning and the nervous laughter of the stranger. As he sat and pondered, an extremely tall, wide shouldered man sat down next to him and lit a cigarette. He had a long thick mustache that covered his upper lip but came down on the sides past his chin, and scruffy brown hair that stuck up at weird angles.
"Oh, hi Mr.Lucio." Daglan said as he pretended to have not been eavesdropping.
"I haven't seen you in class," he said as he blew out a cloud of smoke, "and I don't often see you hanging around here by choice." He continued to puff his cigarette as they sat in silence.
"Mr.Lucio… I can feel him like the abominations and Silvas's healing. What is he?"
"I'm not sure, from what I've heard he sounds human enough. What do you think?"
"I don't know… I think he's human? But why can I feel him?"
"There must be something similar between him, Silvas's healing, and the abominations from the mountains and forest, hmm?"
"I guess so…" They continued to sit in silence until Lucio had finished his cigarette.
"You can always talk to me if you need help, Daglan. You may like getting experience more, but a little book learning can go a long way." He stood up, pressing his cigarette out between his fingers and putting the butt in his pocket. "It's always good to see you, don't be a stranger." He said as he waved his hand walking away. Daglan thought about what Lucio had proposed, something similar. It didn't seem like Silvas or the stranger would be coming out soon so Daglan decided to go home and see what Rozere thought about all this.
When he did get home both Rozere and Koshu were in foul moods, having most likely fought since earlier. Deciding that he'd rather not be part of that, he grabbed his bag and scurried out the front door before Kusho had time to notice.
It's a short walk to the gate, the guards had patched up his last hole in the wall, but he had since come up with another, more thrilling way. Climbing up to the top of the traders hall, he'd be high enough to jump to the wall once the guards had passed. Then it was a quick jump down and a sprint out of their eyesight before he was able to relax. He walked along a path he knew quite well until he came up on a small ladder, it was built into a tree that led up to a small treehouse.
His exploration headquarters as he liked to call it. The inside was small and filled with trash, and his souvenirs from his adventures sat on a roughly made table. A small Salegitti skull, a broken dagger missing its tip, and a small crystal like rock that shown with faint yellow light. Next to them were three well worn books. He picked up the book titled journal and sat on the ground, scribbling furiously with a small piece of charcoal. He then began to study the other two, older, bigger books. One titled, Abominations of Hel’s Peaks, and the other, Creatures of South Shodun. Mr Lucio was right about book learning, but he liked his own books.
Back in town Rozere was wandering around with her hands behind her head, whistling to herself. “I wonder where Daglan is?” She pondered allowed, before realizing she had stopped in front of Silvas’s office. She stared at the large building with its off-white stone, and massive steel doors. There were various cracks and dents all along the wells and doors, as well as wooden planks over the windows, Silvas called them the clinic’s battlescars, there was nowhere safer to hide in the whole town.
She stared for a long time before realizing there was a man sitting in the grass, a large bottle of alcohol in one hand, and multiple empty bottles sitting neatly by his legs. His long spiky hair was a little cleaner, and the copious amounts of drool were now wiped away. His face was a bright red, and he had a cigarette hanging from his lips. He stared at her with a slight wobble,
“Hey… You're that girl that touched my sword right?” He took another large gulp from his bottle.
“Yeah? What of it?” She asked with defiance, her hands on her hips. He smiled a sickening smile and shot to his feet faster than Rozere could see.
“Why don't you try it again? Or will you simply scream for help? Little girls shouldn’t play with monsters.” He said as he towered over her. “Go ahead.” He lifted his arm in the air so his katana was unblocked. Rozere’s knees began to shake and a lump formed in her throat but she did not look away. She was an ant, and this man was a giant. She wasn't going to back down, but he could stand faster than she could see. Surely dropping his arm even faster would be no problem right? He was right, she wanted to scream, but she stood firm.
“Maybe I will!” She returned his malicious smile and reached out for his sword as fast as she could, bracing for the impact and the horrible crunch of bones as he grabbed her arm and snapped it in half. She flinched as her nerves went off, electric sensations coursing through her fingertips. It's happened! But what she felt wasn't pain, but the hard yet somehow soft grip of a katana hilt. She opened her eyes to see her hand firmly gripping his katana and a much more playful smile somehow even wider across this strange man’s face. He began to laugh loudly as she stumbled backwards and fell. He held out his hand, still giggling a little. She eyed him hard then after a moment smacked his hand away. She stood up, and began to brush herself off, glaring at him all the while. He apologized in between giggles.
“My name is Noboru, you've got quite the spirit to face me down. What's your name kid?” He asked as he sat back onto the grass and took another long swig from his bottle. Rozere straightened up and looked at him with a fiery gaze.
“Rozere of Grayborrow.” She said, crossing her arms. “And you dont scare me!”
“What are you yelling about Rozere?” Silvas asked as she appeared behind her. “You!” she exclaimed as she saw Noboru “Where did you get all of that from!? Rozere give me a hand and throw away these bottles would you?”
“She's already gone.” Noboru giggled. Silvas spun around to see that Rozere had indeed disappeared, as Noboru began to laugh louder. Rozere could hear the slap from across town as she sat against the traders hall. As she pondered just how big a lump must be on the side of Noboru's face, a ball smacked her’s.
“Hey who did that!?” She demanded as she hoped to her feat, tears forming in her eyes, which she quickly wiped away.
“Oh, sorry Rozere! I didn't mean to! Honest!” Said the boy as he ran up and grabbed his ball off the ground before the evil Rozere could kick it away, her foot swishing in the air. The boy was a few years younger than Rozere, had shaggy blonde hair, a tunic that was two sizes too big for him and a pair of round glasses broken in several spots.
“You better be sorry, pipsqueak!” she said, wiping her eyes and now running nose. “I'll have to beat you up if not!”
“Come on give Vilcus a break he said sorry. What are you doing over here by yourself anyways? Daglan run away again?” Said another girl with little blonde pigtails and red cheeks, as she came up behind Vilcus.
“Hi Meska and no he didn't run away again.” Rozere said, sticking her tongue out. “I just think he went for a walk is all… he'll be back… soon!” She crossed her arms and held her chin up. “Well why don't you come play with us until he gets back?” Meska asked, turning around and walking away, “We are playing dodgeball, maybe you can hit Vilcus in the face.”
“Hey nuh-uh! She won't hit me!” Vilcus persisted as he followed after her. Rozere sniffled, rubbed her nose with her sleeve, and smiled.
“Okay fine, but wait up!” She yelled.

As Daglan walked through the trees, he could feel the malicious energies from abominations all around him, it was making his blood boil. He remembered the stranger looking down at him and Rozere, overflowing with the most malicious intent he had ever felt. A smile began to creep across his face once more, as he could feel something close behind him. He spun around to see a creature he had only seen in books, the sight of which excited and terrified him. 

A giant humanoid creature with a long smooth snake-like torso, and grotesquely elongated arms and legs stood before him. It had a small pair of arms on its hips that bounced as if boneless, and a strange human face. Smooth indents of skin sat where the eyes should be, and it had a beak lined with razor teeth that jutted out at multiple angles. It clicked its tongue and sniffed the air then began to lick its beak with what could only be called a smile.
“What should I call you big fella?” Daglan asked nervously as excitement shot through his body. This wasn't like anything he'd ever encountered in the forest, or during attacks. This creature was much more dangerous. He gritted his teeth and forced an equally disgusting smile, even though he was sure the abomination couldn't see him. He pulled out the dagger he had smithed in secret at Koshu’s forge and dropped his stance lower, lower, lower. The creator was clicking and sniffing in anticipation, no doubt it could feel Daglan’s bloodlust.
Daglan took a slow step forward, then another. The creature's head tilted and it sniffed harder, then in a flash that Daglan couldn’t even see, it lashed out, slashing his shoulder apart. Adrenaline had already made its way to Daglan’s brain and he didn't even feel the warm blood soaking into his tunic or notice his limp arm flailing behind him as he attacked. He rolled under the creature’s arm and slashed at its ribs ripping its open sending its guts pouring out. It screamed in pain and whirled around, but its tall body and long arms whizzed over Daglan’s head. He rolled again, this time in between its legs, slashing at its knee, cutting down to the bone. It screamed again and fell to its knees with a gross squishy thud from one. It twitched and spazzed as it began twisting its body around in a disgusting manner.
Daglan approached cautiously, but the adrenaline had worn off and he looked down at his arm. It was almost completely blue, and the little skin and bone that held his arm to his body squirted copious amounts of blood. There was a blur then he was flying through the brush stopping when he thudden into a tree. His eyes began to blur with red, then black. The last thing he heard was a familiar voice...
“You are by far the most interesting of the bunch. Hey, can you hear me?”
When Deglan awoke he was looking at a ceiling he knew all too well. In a bed he had awoken in many times. But this time he couldn't move. “Silvas! What's happening?! Silvas! Rozere!” Daglan began to thrash when he heard that same voice.
“Hey hey hey! You're going to hurt yourself more than you already have!” When standing over him, blocking the light with his conical hat, was the stranger. “That was a nasty creature you were tangling with out there. I heard you like to fight but I'm guessing you've never seen a lasari before? Ugly things, and not easy to kill with small weapons if you don't know how.”
“I do know how.” Daglan said matter of factly, “They have two brains located behind the eye sockets.”
“Oh-ho-ho,” the stranger smiled maliciously, “ but how do you stop them from reproducing after that?” Daglan went silent for a moment. “What do you mean?"
“Lasari have a fun ability to reproduce from their corpse. Specifically, their heart has two eggs inside that will hatch if it ever stops beating. So to properly kill one you must burn the heart.” He laughed and presumably sat back down, out of Daglan’s eyesight. There was a slight pause and Daglan was about to speak when he heard a gasp and the stranger continued.
“Anyway, you almost lost your arm. Luckily, your doctor and blacksmith were able to fix you up, those two are something else. It'll take some time for your bo-” Daglan cut him off.
“What do you mean I almost lost my arm?! What did they do to me?!” He exclaimed, thrashing, memories of his broken and bleeding arm flashing through his mind.
“If you don't calm down, I will calm you down.” He said forcefully. “I hate babies. I thought you were supposed to be a tough kid? Now anyways it's just me and you here, everyone else is asleep, so please. I know you've heard of the metal prosthetics of this country, Metics, I think they're called? I’ve seen people in town with them. Well your blacksmith had to help your doctor make you a new shoulder.”
“So why are you being so helpful? I don't know you, and you feel the same as an abomination.” “See it's things like that!” He shot back up his face noticeably red.
“You're so interesting! I don't remember how I got here…” He scratched his head for a second, “but boy have I had fun since I've shown up!” Your girlfriend Rozere-”
“She's not my girlfriend, and you leave her alone!” He shouted.
“Well she's fearsome! And you’re so interesting too! Definitely the best five year o-”
“I’m twelve. Rozere is thirteen.”
“Well twelve then. Point is, I like you and your little girly friend, so I thought I'd help out and not let you die.” Then it dawned on Daglan, there was no way a search party found him like when he normally gets in a scap and passes. He had thoroughly lost and was deep in the woods. By all accounts he should be dead. Daglan was so angry he hadn't even thought about what happened afterwards.
“It was you. So what do you want from me? Are you some abomination loo-” This time the stranger cut him off.
“My name is Noboru, the handyman.”
“I've never heard of that species.”
“Well I'm not an abomination, I'm a jack-of-all-trades, so to speak. I travel from place to place making money doing odd jobs. Anyways, you remind me an awful lot of someone I used to know. So don't go throwing your life away against such low level trash as the abominations around here.” Daglan began to feel the intimidating malice from Noboru, almost that of when Rozere had touched his sword. “I know you can feel my energy. Unlike the people of this town, save a few, I think you're gifted.” Then it was gone just as quickly as before. “What do you want, Daglan.” Daglan’s blood was fire and his eyes daggers, piercing the ceiling with determination.
“I want to be remembered.”
“So get out of this town and maybe one day you can fight me, and I’m not even the strongest out there. Come… show this world what you're… made of because I for one… can't wait.” Just then Daglan heard a thud followed by an endless cascade of snores from Noboru.
“Would someone get me out of here!”

When somebody suggests you commit arson together, your reaction is most likely to differ based on the identity of that person. If anyone else had asked me to come along to burn down a building, I would have assumed it was a joke. However, being aware of Frankie Preston’s barely suppressed murderous tendencies made me take his request quite seriously. Of course, three main questions presented themselves upon first consideration.
“What building?”
“A small developmental factory owned by FunFlair.”
“Do you plan on burning it while there are still people inside?”
“Only one, and that one deserves to burn alive.”
Shelving my thoughts on that answer for the moment, I inquired as to when he was hoping to go about this endeavor.
“The sooner the better. My sister—you haven’t met her—found out that they’re going to move sites in the near future, so if I want to take revenge on my old boss easily, I need to do it now. It won’t be too difficult. I know the layout of the place really well, they can’t have changed much these last three years. It’s small, hidden but unprotected. A bunch of containers in some woods a couple hours from here. The human I hate most in the entire world is there, every night, working all alone.” His shoulders twitched. “I drove by the place a couple times, and I kept thinking about doing it, but I was too scared. Having you there would make all the difference.”
“It would?” I echoed.
“Yes! Sunshine, you’re strong. Amazingly so. I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you, but the thing is, I can’t do this on my own. If you tell me to go away and never mention this again, I will. That I swear to God. Or whatever sadistic omnipotent being has put me on this world to suffer.” He briefly glanced heavenward, or rather at the ceiling, then back at me. “I can’t hurt anybody, remember?”
I nodded along slowly. “This person, your old boss… what did they do to you?”
“Simply put, she’s why I hate everything.” He spoke with an uncanny intensity, staring past me like he was miles away.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Philomena Wallis. She’s the one who keeps sending people after me. She wants me back to do fuck knows what to me because she's still pissed I screwed her over." He paused. "She did—does horrible things. You'd want her dead, too."
"Why isn't she in prison?"
"Nobody gets taken to prison if they're rich enough. Either way, what she does isn't technically illegal… and no one knows about it either. It's a tricky situation."
I took a deep breath. “Do you have a plan?”
“I do. We’ll go there at night, I’ll slip in and make sure the door to Phil’s workspace is locked, and then we’ll douse the whole thing in gasoline.”
“Are you sure you’ll need me for that? It doesn’t sound like you’d be inflicting hurt directly. I mean, you wouldn’t have to actually raise a hand to your boss, not physically. Or can you not do that either?”
“The risk lies rather within what could happen if she finds me.” He rubbed his arm, a look of uncertainty crossing his features. “I’m different when I’m around her. I can’t help it, she… she can just walk all over me. She made me be this way. There’s nothing to be done about it, except to get rid of her once and for all.”
“I’m not following. She made you be this way? What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said!” he snapped, only to shrink back and raise his hands. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!”
I stared at him in silence for a beat. “You’re terrified,” I said.
He glanced at his chucks, then back at me, looking like he wanted to say something but didn’t know what.
“Sad, too,” I added. “Sometimes, I can’t tell what you think, so I apologize if I’m reading this wrong…”
“You shouldn’t have to guess what’s going on inside my head anyways,” he muttered. “I can’t believe what I’m trying to rope you into again. It’s like I didn’t hear myself talk for a minute there.”
“I’ll help you.”
He raised a skeptical brow. “I don’t want to force you. I swear I don’t. I will do this, and I’d feel so much better if you came with, but if this is something you’re gonna resent me for in the long run…”
“The long run?”
“I mean—” He started playing with his gum again. “Are we not doing this? You really like me, I think?”
“I think we shouldn’t be talking about this in the same breath as committing lethal arson.” I rubbed my nose before letting go of a long breath. “If I can’t stop you from doing this, I’ll at least make sure you come back out in one piece.” I wonder if this is how Nettie Peterson usually feels.
Frankie beamed. “You will? You’re absolutely sure?”
“Yes. Here’s the plan, I drop off what I bought for my savior human and then we can prepare; do what’s needed. I don’t want to put this off. The sooner it’s over, the better.”
“Definitely,” he agreed with an eager nod. “I’ll drive you right over.”
“Good. And Frankie… you know precisely how I feel about you.”
We got on our way the following morning. The car ride lasted several hours, most of which I spent fast asleep stretched out on the backseat. It was a wonderful nap; I hardly felt any of the vehicle’s movements, admittedly a credit to the server’s abilities as a driver. Eventually, the road was getting too bumpy to ignore, and I drowsily lifted my head to find us pulling onto heavily wooded terrain. Upon noticing I was awake, Fran gave me a fleeting, quite obviously forced smile. After a few more minutes, we came to a halt on a clearing. I got out and produced a canister of gasoline from the trunk, handing it to Fran after opening the door for him. He looked strangely absent, gazing off into the distance with a vacant look in his eyes. He grabbed the offered canister and clutched it to his chest, almost like he was hugging it.
“We’ll be going the rest of the way on foot, then?” I inquired.
He nodded wordlessly.
I couldn’t hide my frown. The air around us was warm and fragrant, the moonlight shining through between the branches that seemed to reach out for us as we began walking. There was not even a hint of a breeze, and yet, a chill ran down my spine. My companion’s demeanor was nothing short of uncomfortable; he seemed to suck the warmth out of the atmosphere around us, together with my initial confidence and the sweet scent of pine needles. His silence instilled in me a clammy sense of dread, and I couldn’t shake it no matter how hard I tried. Normally, I would have probably appreciated the perfect calm and serenity of the lush forest around us, but seeing him in such obvious, unspoken distress drove away all my idyllic thoughts.
“This seems like an odd place to hide a factory,” I remarked, trying to open a conversation once more.
“That’s the point. You wouldn’t go looking for a doll manufacturer in bum-fuck nowhere,” he replied.
“It’s strange to think about. What kind of shady stuff can a toy manufacturer even get up to? Don’t get me wrong, I trust you when you say they’re bad people, I just wish you’d give me a little more information. I feel like I’m not getting something here.”
He let out a low hum. “You… are really innocent.”
“No, I’m not,” I argued, affronted.
“Not in a bad way. I said innocent, not naive. I’ve been cagey again, I know that, but the thing is, you’ll see exactly what I was talking about when we get there. You’ll understand everything, and to be honest, I’m very afraid of what you’ll think once you do.”
We finally reached the building Fran had told me about. If it could indeed be called a building. It looked more like something that had been thrown together by a larva using Lego bricks. It was, as predicted, a bunch of containers lined up and stacked atop one another, small corridors and open metal staircases connecting them. It seemed to be almost entirely empty—all the lights were out, except for a single one. From behind a window on the upper floor, filtered through gray blinds, a cool, bright glow shone down upon us. It bathed Frankie in its surreal luminescence that seemed completely out of place given our raw, natural surroundings.
“You were right,” I stated, tearing him from his rigor. “Seems like there’s only one person in there.”
“That’s Phil,” he mumbled. “I’m certain.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Frankie detached himself from the canister, peeling it off his body like a piece of clothing. I took it from his hands while he walked over to the nearest door, reaching into his pocket to produce a set of shiny, slim tools. Despite the darkness, he set his fingers to work on the lock. It didn’t take long at all for him to let out a satisfied sound, straightening up as he held the now open door for me. “I’m very skilled at lockpicking,” he said lightly, by way of conversation.
I couldn’t hide the admiration in my gaze, and I gave him a proud smile that briefly caused his features to soften. I had not yet crossed the threshold when he grabbed me by the wrist, holding me back. “One more thing,” he whispered, his voice suddenly ringing desperate again, “you won’t like what we might see in there.”
“I know,” I answered. “It was implied.”
Stepping forth into the dark room, the smell of plastic and coffee instantly hit my nose. Fran fumbled for a lightswitch before thinking better of it and turning on the flashlight he’d brought. We were clearly in a breakroom; there was a table in the middle surrounded by chairs, an espresso machine in the corner and several calendars and posters taped to the walls. Unsuspecting. Frankie didn’t comment, immediately moving across the cube and towards the door on the other side. It led out into a small corridor, improvised using more corrugated iron elements, and into another larger container. There was a desk with a computer in one corner and an empty operating table in the center.
A large shelving unit occupied the entire left side of the room. A closer inspection revealed that it held all sorts of small parts, though what they were parts of was beyond me. Opening the plastic drawers at random, I glimpsed all sorts of metallic and silicone pieces, forming strange little… thingies.
“What is all this?” I asked Frankie.
He had been standing by the operating table, staring at it with unblinking eyes. His expression was once more perfectly vacant. Not even his jaw was moving around his bubble gum. He didn’t look up, and for a minute, I wondered if he’d heard me at all. “Doll parts,” he suddenly answered, his voice lacking any inflection.
I frowned, picking up one of the tiny metallic objects and inspecting it closely. I could see what he meant now—it appeared to be a very small joint, perhaps for a finger. “When you said FunFlair made dolls, I thought you meant these stiff little baby dolls. I didn’t know they made them this detailed.”
“Oh, they can be detailed alright.”
“Is this, like, a robotics thing? Can they move on their own, too?”
Frankie let out a sharp, mirthless laugh that was much too short. He fell completely silent again, and it felt as though the room had gotten colder. I bit my lip, placing the finger joint back in its box. I tentatively reached out to Fran and rested a hand on his upper arm, only for him to flinch, drawing away as if burned. “D-don’t touch me right now,” he pleaded.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed.
“No, I am. Don’t mind me, okay? Let’s—let’s just go on.”
So we did. Another makeshift corridor led us over into the next container. The beam of our flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing a sight that made me stop in my tracks. There were several bodies propped up in the corners of the room, bodies that I only realized on second glance were artificial. They were of roughly the same size as the average person, with fully formed arms, legs and everything. Their faces however were different. Most of them weren’t even fully complete, the skin-like material not fully covering their heads and leaving the mechanical structures underneath uncovered. Their eyeballs—sitting in hard plastic sockets and unframed by lids—stared out at us blankly, utterly void and expressionless.
Cold dread began to seep into my bones, paralyzing me for a second before I managed to break from my stillness. Taking a step towards one of the lifeless figures, I bent down to get a closer look. Keeping my distance, I reached out a single finger to trace along one of the countless delicate wires peeking out from the soft patches of facial material. It was cool to the touch, making my skin crawl. I pulled back, turning to Frankie in bewilderment. “Wh-what is all this?” I asked hesitantly.
“That’s them. That’s the dolls.”
“Well, yes, I can see that but this… this is really, really unnerving.”
He let out a strangled, mournful sound. “I guess it is,” he said eventually, his voice low and flat. He knelt down beside me, a little closer to the doll, and started fumbling around with the back of its neck, clearly looking for something. Finally, I heard a little click, followed by a whirring noise as the doll jerked up its arm. I squeaked, scrambling back on my hands and rear, only to find my back suddenly pressed up against the chest of another mannequin. I hadn’t done a thing, but it instantly sprang to life; robotic fingers clamping down around both sides of my nape. The painfully fierce touch wiped away every last bit of my composure, and I let out a shriek that seemed to tear apart the relative silence. Frankie spun around to fix me with the beam of his flashlight, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut. My heart was hammering against my ribcage, seemingly exploding when the hands started pulling me closer against the lifeless, yet animate body.
The next thing I knew was that Fran had leapt forward and removed me from the doll’s clutches with one swift, powerful yank. My chest was heaving and I couldn’t suppress a low whimper when I pressed myself to his side, frantically glancing about my surroundings. My fangs were bared, but my racing pulse was admittedly overtaxing me. I couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts. My flight-instinct was kicking in, further setting off my panicked response when I realized I might end up involuntarily jumping dimensions again.
Suddenly, I felt Frankie’s hand on my cheek, the gentle pressure tilting my head up to make me meet his gaze. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice equal parts firm and understanding. The fog in my head lifted just a little.
“They’re not going to hurt you,” he went on, his thumb stroking the curve of my outer ear. However he managed to convey such certainty when he himself had been so uneasy mere moments ago was beyond me, and yet, I found myself believing him. My breathing slowed and I hazarded a second glance at the doll I had bumped into.
It had stopped moving, its body having locked into an unnatural, almost feral-looking position. It was cowering on all fours, its torso lowered and its head up. Its neck was bent at such an extreme angle that it was approaching the comical.
“What the fuck was that?” I whispered, the curse word escaping me before I could stop myself.
“Some of them have to be activated manually, others can be turned on just by touch. I remember that,” Frankie replied. “There’s no need to be afraid of them, though. Even if it’s hard to believe considering… well.” He gestured at the oddly crouching doll at our feet.
“Something’s very wrong here,” I muttered, unable to tear my eyes off the lifeless, incomplete face. “I didn’t even know they made toys like that.”
“They’re not for children,” Frankie said, his eyes glazing over once more.
“Are they, like, robots? Do they know what they’re doing?”
“Not if they’re lucky, they don’t.” He paused. “They’re not made to think. Any awareness they might have would be unplanned for.”
“And you really used to work here? Did you help build them?”
“We can talk about that once we’re out of here.”
I swallowed. “Look, I’m freaking out. This can’t be a normal production site.”
“It’s not. I wish you didn’t have to see this. It… it only gets worse. And your instincts aren’t failing you, none of this is right. If you want to back out, I don’t blame you. This place shouldn’t exist.”
I took a deep breath. I wished I had insisted on knowing the full truth before coming here, but it couldn’t be helped now. Instead of prying further, I pointed at the canister of gasoline. “Then let’s remedy that.”
Despite himself, Frankie smiled.
Instead of mirroring the expression, I felt my own features suddenly derail. “Oh crap.”
“What is it?”
“Do you think she heard me scream?”
X
1
2: deadbeat roommate
3: creepy crush
4: relocation
5: beach concert
6: First date
7: Temp work
8: roommate talk
9: a dismal worldview
10: warehouse
11: staircase
12: explanation
13: hurt
14: hospital
15: ocean
16: diner
17: government work
18: something in the caves
19: shopping cart
20: olms and Jewels
21: long hair
22: recruitment
23: waitresses

Lately I’ve been having some wild ass dreams with a lot of death and anger. Last night’s dream kind of stuck with me tho. I had a dream of eating a baby elephant fetus sliced in half, it had a weird gamey kinda fishy smell. My dad had a slice of fetus as well but his had a long skinny worm in it, he asked if the meat was good and I told him no bc it has parasites and we threw it away. I went to a man in a village nearby to get some more meat but he said the wait time for some elephant meat was about 2 years and that even then he couldn’t guarantee him and his family wouldn’t eat it since food is scarce. After that dream I had a dream that I was growling aggressively at a bear and it cowered, rolled on its back and became submissive. I continued growling at it until its eyes looked away.
Any ideas what any of this means or is symbolic of? Lol

For some reason, there exists the misconception among some people in the Vinland Saga Community that Ketil was a good man before he beat Arnheid to death. So this thread is dedicated to the people who, despite the story's message (violence is bad), still believe that Ketil was a good man before the incident with Arnheid.
Initally, Ketil came off as a good man who adhered to his moral principles, but as the story progressed, it became clear that he was only posing as a man that he could never be. Ketil played nice only when things were going his way and the moment someone tried to go against his will, Ketil would treat them harshly.
Let's go through some facts about Ketil first:

1. He regularly goes to slave markets to buy slaves.
2. He makes the slaves he buys, work on and expand his farm (wealth). He offers certain slaves freedom after a lifetime of service. However, he never gave his slave Arnheid any choice for freedom, wanting to keep her all to himself, and he also has mercenaries (Snake and his troupe) positioned across the farm so that they stop and catch his slaves if they try to run away. Those mercenaries committed so many crimes/broke so many laws that they can't use their real names, so they go around with nicknames instead. That's the kind of people Ketil uses as guards.
3. He lies about his reputation of being "Iron Fist Ketil", a warrior who's famous for his immense strength, and uses the fact that they share the same name to his advantage, as seen here and here.
4. He uses Arnheid as a sex slave/shoulder to cry on over how sad he is over being a fake and a coward. First thing he did when he returned to his farm? Look for Arnheid to get his daily dose of emotional support.
5. His wife mistreats Arnheid, physically and verbally.
6. He seeks to expand his farm and wealth to compensate for his own inferiority complex.
7. He beat up a kid with a stick because he stole from him to provide for his poor family.
8. He saw Arnheid getting assaulted by one of Snake's men. He told the man to leave and then proceeded to beat Arnheid within an inch of her life with a stick because she tried to escape from the farm with her husband Gardar (who also got enslaved). At that point, Arnheid was pregnant with Ketil's child, and she told Ketil this, but he continued beating her, which resulted in Ketil killing both, Arnheid AND his unborn child.

So, what makes Ketil so bad? Well, for one, he's a slave owner and abuser. It doesn't take much effort to see what's the problem with him. However, I've seen quite a few people make excuses for him despite of that, so I'll go through their arguments:
"Ketil is good when it comes to that era"
Considering that Thorfinn, Einar, Leif, Pater, and even Snake, thought that the way Ketil treated Arnheid was wrong, this can't be true. Ketil is a slave owner who raped a woman and beat a pregnant woman to death with a stick, he's nowhere near good, even back in those times.
"Ketil is fairly normal in comparison to vikings who loot, plunder, and rape"
Ketil is "fairly normal" in comparison to mass murderers. He is still evil. More evil, less evil, it's irrelevant. Evil is evil. The point with Ketil's character is, that "the lesser evil", is still evil. People like Leif, Ylva, Helga, etc (the normal people in the story) would still think of Ketil as a evil man if they saw him raping and beating a defenseless woman. Saying that Ketil is fairly normal in comparison to mass murderers, doesn't mean much. That's the bare minimum.
"Given the circumstances anyone would have snapped like Ketil did"
Given the circumstances, nobody would ever have slaves in the first place. I don't know why people act like Ketil snapping isn't his fault even though it is. He took a woman slave against her will, he was a control freak who made slaves work for him and gave them hope for freedom someday so that they would work harder for him for years. He had vile mercenaries positioned across the farm so that they stop and catch the slaves if they try to run away, and if those slaves got caught, they would get violently punished.
"Ketil disliked war and conflict and always tried to solve problems peacefully"
He goes to the slave market to buy slaves. He supports war by doing so. He made many slave owners rich. Saying that Ketil was against conflict even though he buys slaves to either rape them (Arnheid) or make them work hard for him (Thorfinn, Einar, etc), is a crazy thing to say. Ketil considers his wealth more important to him than human lives and their rights. He never even wanted to give Arnheid any choice for freedom, and Thorfinn and Einar would have had to work their butts off for years until Ketil sets them free (and even then, he probably expected them to stay with him "willingly" and continue working for him, aka Stockholm Syndrome).
"Arnheid is Ketil's slave no matter what; Arnheid's husband doesn't own her anymore, Ketil does"
It was not Arnheid's choice to become Ketil's slave. Arnheid was with Gardar (her husband) before she got captured and sold off as a slave against her will to Ketil. So no, she was willingly in a relationship with Gardar and later on became a slave of Ketil against her will.
"Arnheid deserved to die, it is a slave's fault to betray their master"
Arnheid was a innocent woman who lost her baby and then got kidnapped and enslaved against her will. She's a victim, she didn't deserve to die just because she didn't want to be abused anymore, that's a messed up thing to say. People need to realize that a slave doesn't have a choice in the matter, they never chooe to be with their master. They were captured and sold off as a slave against their will. So no, Arnheid doesn't own Ketil jackshit and Arnheid wanting to reunite with her husband Gardar is not her "betraying" Ketil. It would be betrayal if Arnheid ever wanted to be with Ketil in the first place but she clearly didn't because Ketil was a pathetic and insecure man who used Arnheid as his sex slave and raped her whenever he felt frustrated with something.
"Ketil is good because he is not as harsh as the other masters"
Just because Ketil isn't as evil as the other slave owners doesn't mean that he's good. Ketil's farm setup was incredibly beneficial to him. By giving the people he buys as slaves a potential way of freedom by working for him, is in his best interest monetarily. Giving them a way out by working for him means that they will be working much harder than if they didn't have that incentive, so even if he wouldn't have as many slaves as the other slave owners, his slaves would still be working much harder than any other slaves. People act like he's doing it out of the kindness of his heart but it does ultimately benefit him more than other masters. And again, Ketil doesn't give all his slaves a chance at freedom. Arnheid was never given any hope from him, and he raped her nightly. Ketil treats the slaves as his property. He assigns them a plot of land to work on and they aren't given a choice of professional or vocation to pay him back with. The only moral thing to do when you own a slave is to free them. Which Ketil doesn't do and never intends to do. He keeps a band of mercenary to stop the slaves from escaping. If he was a decent slave owner, he would have punished everyone equally for their crime, but he made it personal and used Arnheid as a punching bag, and has used her as emotional/sexual stress relief for years before.
Now, despite all of that, do I think that Ketil is a bad character? No. He's a bad human being, but it's not like he wasn't well written. His character is very believeable. Ketil's actions can be attributed to his environment and upbringing, which have molded his behavior and choices. The violent world he exists in greatly influences him. However, it is crucial to differentiate between comprehending his circumstances and justifying or absolving his wrongdoing. While environment and upbringing can provide context, they do not inherently negate the responsibility or consequences of one's actions. Ketil was a insecure coward and liar first and foremost. When he was confonted with the choice of what to do with the thief kid, he felt empathy for the kid because he did it to provide for his poor family. He thought that making the kid work for him would be beneficial punishment. However, because Ketil was too insecure to act as the leader and make the final decision, he allowed Snake and Thorgil (who both wanted the kid to be physically punished) to take the dominant role, causing the kid to get beaten up with a stick by Ketil. Ketil then went to Arnheid for emotional relief and felt more sorry for over how insecure and cowardly he is, than the fact that he just beat the shit out of a little boy.
After Ketil beat Arnheid within an inch of her life, he dropped his "nice guy" persona completely, willing to go to war against King Canute and his army. Ketil gathered farmers to form an army, promising them that their debts would be waived if they fought, without telling them that the army they're about to fight is the one of King Canute, because he knew that most of them would run away if they knew that they would be up against the King himself. Ketil's greedy and prideful personality get fully showcased her. He yells at his men, insults Canute, and when he learns that Canute's army consists of 100 men, he becomes overcondident, because he and his men outnumber Canute's men more than three times over, being unaware that Canute's army is full of Jomsvikings (while Ketil's army are just a bunch of farmers who never went to war, except Thorgil and Snake's troupe). Hell, Ketil even thinks that taking Canute's head is a possibility. As you might expected, Ketil and his army got completely ragdolled by Canute's army.
I think what puts the nail to the coffin with Ketil's character is the scene where his army retreated because of the overwhelming force of Canute's army. Ketil tells his men that he didn't order them to retreat and asks them where their honor is. He then grabs one man and asks him if he really thinks he'll clear his his debts after that poor show of a fight. The man laughs, telling Ketil that no one cares about debts at this point anymore and that everything is over for Ketil. He adds that now, Ketil has a taste of how the poor folk feel; Ketil can do nothing despite the King's unreasonable demans, just like he (the man Ketil grabbed) and the other slaves/farmers could do nothing but obey Ketil. He tells Ketil that strength is justice and that the world serves men far more powerful than Ketil.
So overall, while Ketil isn't badly written or pure evil, he is still a insecure and pathetic control freak, liar, and abuser who used a "nice guy" persona as his mask because he loves having control over his slaves while pretending to be nice so that they don't try to run away from him. And whenever his slaves do try to run away from him, they get violenty punished. People who say "don't compare living from now to back then" need to realize that even back then, people like Ketil were considered evil. Living a peaceful life 1000 years ago was completely possible. Leif, Helga, Ylva, retired Thors, etc. Many characters in Vinland Saga never went to war or took slaves, and yet manage to live a peaceful life. Ketil could have easily had a peaceful life, he chose to have slaves because he WANTS to have slaves, and he wants to have slaves because he's a control freak.
TLDR: Being weak-willed doesn't automatically mean being kind. Ketil was never genuinely kind, he is a weak man who was always hiding his true self behind a mask. Weak men beat women when they can't control them, which is what Ketil did, he killed Arnheid and their unborn baby. Ketil wants power over people who are barely considered better than a cow. Before Arnheid's death, Ketil identified with her, a slave, always using her as emotional/sexual stress relief. Despite being the owner of the farm, Ketil didn't exactly do a good job at acting as the leader. During the situation with the thief kid, he couldn't step up to put Snake and Thorgil in their places. Ketil knew that he's weak and yet never stopped using the persona of the mighty "Iron Fist Ketil". Maybe he told himself that lie so often that he actually started to believe in it? Who knows. Vinland Saga is full of characters I could write an essay about.

I have tons of plants! Angel wing begonias, ruby necklace (purple flush), Hoya carnosa, p. Micans, p. Brazil, p. Heart leaf, arrow head, Cebu blue pothos, marbled and neon pothos, satin pothos, spider plant (all variations), hosta (verigated and nonverigated) iris bulbs, elephant ear bulbs, amaryllis bulbs (small med large) dragon fruit cactus, devils backbone, day lillies, van zyberden Lillie's, canna Lillie's, mother of thousands babies, rose moss, peace lily, wandering Jew, snake plant, begonia compacta, monstera, zz's, purple heart, coleus socotranus, baby sun rose, monkey grass, Norwegian pine, succulents, Spruce palm and dracaena fragrance.
Iso: whale fins, lemon lime or red prayer plant, string of turtles, p. Pink princess, peperomia argyria graveolens (ruby glow) puteolata caperata (frost or emerald) different hoyas, different hanging plants new things I don't have! For pictures, prices or trade questions please chat with me

None of this is gonna make much sense if you’re not familiar with the concept of a furry, so here’s a quick summary:
A furry is an enthusiast for animal characters with human characteristics, in particular a person who dresses up in costume as such a character or uses one as an avatar online.
With that out of the way, let’s get on with the story…
Last year, my boss sent me to Vegas for the CES tech conference and—inadvertently—booked me into the Bellagio the same weekend it hosted FURCATION. After checking-in, still drowsy from the 10-hour flight, I stepped onto the elevator just as two men dressed in full-body wolf costumes stepped out.
My pulse got set racing.
Despite the jetlag, I dumped my suitcase in the room, hurried back downstairs, and followed more furries into a convention hall crammed with anthropomorphic animal characters of all shapes and sizes: tall, short, ginger, grey.
Friends, for the first time in my thirty-two years on this earth, I was alive. Truly alive. I didn’t even realize I’d missed the ‘Bold Solutions for a Changing world’ keynote speech until the Bellagio staff started stacking up chairs, long after midnight.
Back home, I supressed this newly discovered part of myself. My engagement with the community remained confined to browsing fan art and the occasional Discord roleplay, all while my wife was asleep. But little by little, Andrew McCann receded into the gloom, and my fursona, Darkwind Summerpaws, stepped into the light.
To her eternal credit, my wife made every effort to accommodate this new lifestyle. But finding me—or, more specifically, Darkwind—in bed with another woman—again, a fursona—all but pushed her out the door, leaving me in the small house with a big mortgage.
At first, I sought comfort within the community. I neglected my family, my friends, and yes, even my health. Empty whiskey bottles piled up around the lounge while the written warnings piled up at work.
However, this was merely background noise. A hiss of static. Because Darkwind dogged my every step, unshakable. Unstoppable.
Yet still I felt constrained. Like a caged beast. I wanted more more more. Complete and total immersion.
Unfortunately, even my furiends couldn’t placate these inexhaustible appetites, and any complaints about their lack of furmitment fell on deaf ears. After a group member broke character mid-session by removing her mask because of a measly asthma attack, I got ousted from the group over my ‘volatile’ reaction.
This plunged me into a deep depression. Stuck without a release, I ended my engagement with the furmunity. Poor Darkwind got crammed into an old hamper and stuffed inside the attic.
Over the next six weeks, without my outlet, I became a balloon inflated to bursting point. Would this deep longing simply swell and swell until I popped?
But then, at the post office, a bulletin board flyer caught my attention. It said:
Attention all wolfkin! Are you struggling? Feeling alone? Does nobody understand your pain? Don’t fret! Join a group of like-minded individuals as we explore ways to celebrate our primal urges.
For more information, call Jacob on XXXXXX.
These folks sure sounded serious about roleplay. Finally, a place where I could unleash my true self.
Over the phone, Jacob gave me the details. Their clan gathered once a month, and wouldn’t you know it, their next meeting was scheduled for later that very same day, just before sundown. The leader passed on the location and said they couldn’t wait for “a new member to join the pack.”
Following his directions, I drove West out of town and along a dirt trail that broke from the highway,. It spat me out in a remote clearing in the middle of the forest.
Beyond the wall of trees, a grassy mound sloped upward. Pinched between the boughs there was a flickering, orange light.
A small group, twenty or so members strong, sat around a firepit on downed logs, not a fursuit in sight. My heart sunk.
There was no reason to panic, though. Not yet. Maybe, just maybe, rather than break immersion once the fun began, they gathered out of costume for refreshments? Either way, I’d travelled too far to turn back now, so I slipped off my costume, folded it into my pack, and then pushed through a nestle of ferns.
Several individuals roasted marshmallows while others conversed in groups of two or three. One man even strummed a soulful rendition of Moonage Daydream on an acoustic guitar.
“Andrew, I presume?” said a deep voice from behind me.
The first thing I noticed about Jacob was his immense height; he stood nearly seven feet tall, and thicker than a barge pole. “We spoke on the phone.” My hand looked like a child’s encased within his, and that powerful grip was tighter like vice.
“You’ve arrived just in time, we’re about to get started.” He guided me forward by placing a hand against the small of my back. “So, is this your first time?”
“Oh no, I’ve been to tons of these things.”
Those green eyes cut a quizzical glance in my direction. “Really? What clans?”
Clan? Did he mean convention? “Well, there was DragonCon over the summer. And last month I flew down to Furry Fiesta.”
“I’ve never heard of—”
An approaching elderly lady said, “Sorry to interrupt Jacob, but we should really get started.” She jabbed a thumb at the sky, barely visible above the canopy. The chief acknowledged her with a nod.
“Glad to have you with us,” he said to me, and then went and stood before the campfire.
“Good evening, everyone,” he said, drowning out the gentle murmur.
A chorus of, “Good evening, Jacob,” went up.
“I hope everybody’s doing well. I’m delighted to see such a great turn out tonight. Now before we get started, I have a couple of announcements. First, congratulations to Paul”—he gestured at a red-haired man in a denim jacket—“and his wife Donna on the birth of their first child, Damian.”
The group applauded as the new father received several hearty pats on the back.
Once the fanfare tapered off, Jacob added, “Paul told me the new baby has been a blessing…paternity leave means he’s been able to sneak in a few long sessions on the PlayStation while Donna does all the work.”
He waited until the chuckles died off. “And secondly, can everyone please give a warm welcome to Andrew.” He nodded in my direction. “Tonight’s Andrew’s first time with the clan, so I want to see plenty of butt sniffing.”
I laughed, realized nobody else joined in, and then cleared my throat and stared at the ground.
“So let’s make sure—”
“It’s starting.” The elderly lady interrupted, pointing at the sky. High above us, the full moon drifted out from behind a wisp of cloud.
Jacob said, “Here we go everyone, get ready.”
Around me, belts were unhitched, shirts unbuttoned. Finally! Delighted we could now change into our fursuits, I grabbed mine from my pack, stepped into the leg holes, and shimmied it up past my ankles, over the shoulders.
As I hopped around on one foot, negoating the suit on, Jacob shouted, “Andrew, what the hell are you doing? You’re gonna tear right through that thing.”
I paused and looked up.
Bare flesh surrounded me on all sides; large and thin, male and female. Everybody was naked except me.
Before I could ask what was going on, all that exposed skin got illuminated by a stray beam of moonlight that pierced the canopy, bright and shining.
Jacob coughed harshly, a desperate growl, while others snarled. Beside me, the elderly lady contorted her limbs, her head jerking from side to side. She moved in an awkward, staggered manner, almost despite herself. Was this a stroke?
Her neck arced forward, her top half bending at an extreme angle until she dropped onto all fours. Her chest and arms expanded rapidly as coarse, grey hairs grew all over her body. Her ribcage got teased to breaking point, her face now hideously elongated, capped by a long snout. Bones cracked in her hands as the nails shot out and became long, curved claws, same with her feet.
Paralyzed by fear, I could only look on, my feet rooted to the tangled ground. Snarls and barks went up around me. I ripped my eyes away from the lady and saw more limbs swell while knotted hairs engulfed every inch of skin. Mouths snapped open and closed, each now crammed with razor-sharp teeth.
My heart pounded so violently it almost made me pass out.
At last, the beast that had been a lady moments earlier threw its head back and howled. That lone voice soon became a symphony. Then, one by one, the creature’s turned their attention towards me. The only human within in the vicinity.
With my wolf mask tucked under my arm, I backstepped on unsteady legs, my free hand raised in a submissive gesture. Nice and slow, no sudden movements or startling noises. Countless wildlife documentaries taught me that’s how you survived those deadly encounters.
Out of nowhere, a black furred wolf snarled, which made David Attenborough’s calm voice completely melt out of my head. I spun on my heels and bolted off into the forest.
Low, criss-crossed branches sliced my legs and arms as I barrelled along, all but blind. In the narrow gaps between skeletal trunks, bestial blurs cut through the shadows, appearing and disappearing amidst the thick undergrowth.
Just as I reached the slope, half-running half-falling, a cavernous mouth filled with sharp teeth burst from the gloom, on a collision course with my throat.
Without meaning to, I stepped into the loop of an exposed tree root, bent my right leg at a painful angle, and performed an unplanned somersault.
As my back collided with the ground, hard, all air fled my lungs. The head of my fursuit fell alongside me.
A ferocious werewolf whizzed by overhead, snapping at my skull on its way past, and then collided with another that had mounted a surprise attack from behind.
Still dazed, I stagged to my feet while the two beasts righted themselves and then growled at one another, fangs beared.
Blood dripped from a deep cut beneath my chin and a labyrinth of gashes along my forearms. It was like ringing the dinner bell. Soon bright eyes emerged from the gloom and surrounded me on every side.
Werewolves circled my position, drawing closer with every rotation, gradually strangling any hope of escape until I had only a few metres of space to move around in. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
But then a roar cut through the forest, so low and so resonate that the ground itself shook. Those other werewolves lowered their heads, their ears pinned back.
Silhouetted against the moonlight, a single wolf—almost double the height of the rest with intense green eyes—stepped forward. Unlike the others, this one carried itself with unquestionable authority.
I choked out a feeble, “Jacob?”
Six slow strides brought the leader so close that its repulsive carrion breaths blasted my face in hot waves. Thick, white foam dripped from blackened gums, getting gobbled up by the dry, hungry dirt. Whichever direction I looked more wolves stood ready to feast on my grizzled remains, to do battle over the leftovers. This was the end.
But there, by my feet, lay the wolf mask. Out of nowhere a strange calm filled my veins. My inhales became steady. Controlled. And suddenly I knew what I needed to do.
With my free hand facing outward, I reached forward and picked up the mask. Although Jacob growled, he did not attack. Not yet.
In one smooth motion, I slipped the wolf head on. Goodbye Andrew McCann, hello Darkwind Summerpaws.
Jacob’s jaw opened and his back arched up, ready to pounce. Before the attack came, however, I growled. It sounded raw and visceral, issued from a place deep inside me. A place I didn’t even realize existed.
My aggressor and I stood nose to nose, face to face, man to man. No, scratch that last one—wolf to wolf.
Jacob hesitated. As I snarled again, tendons in my jaw creaked. I dropped onto all fours and pressed my shoulder blades together as though pinching an apple between them. For good measure, I even belted out another growl, so fierce my vocal cords became vibrating guitar strings tuned too far.
At first, Jacob only stared. Then, slowly, his head lowered, and he fell into line with the group, whimpering.
For a moment, the wolves only stared. Guided by pure instinct, I threw my head back and howled. Jacob followed, then the others, and within seconds the pack sang in perfect harmony. Afterwards, they all looked on, awaiting my next move.
In a playful manner, I rolled onto my back and kicked both legs in the air. Straight away the group rushed forward to lick my face and sniff my crotch, the tension now gone.
Back at the campsite, some wolves slept, others ate, and several fornicated. It wasn’t entirely dissimilar to the after-parties at a regular convention. And once the festivities ended and the group became exhausted, we curled up by the fire and slept in one giant mound.
I woke surrounded by a ring of human flesh, the sun creeping over the horizon. I sat up and ripped off my mask.
Jacob stepped forward, crouched low, and then offered me his hand.
He hauled me up by the arm, turned to face the group, and said, “Three cheers for Andrew, the new leader of the clan!”
The guild whooped and cheered and punched the air. Two burly men, still bollock naked, even grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up onto their shoulders for a victory lap.
And at that moment, as I basked in their adulation, I knew my life had changed forever. I no longer needed to squander my wages flying to conventions and commissioning personalized fan art in a futile attempt to satisfy my desires. That was a world I could leave behind. Forever.
But don’t fret my friends. Because my journey into furdom wasn’t coming to an end. Oh no.
It was just getting started…

TLDR; - Traveled 800 miles to visit dying elderly relatives that had rampant feral cat breeding problem in their home. They struggled getting resources due to cat and bed bug infestations. No rescues would take the feral cats as they are feral indoooutdoor cats. Social services are moving relatives into a facility now.
Over Memorial Day weekend, I experienced a situation involving nearly 20-30 cats - and now, I am a firm believer that releasing them into the wild is a better option and/or plan than nothing at all.
Let's journey back in time to 2020, when my elderly great Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Jack (names changed of course) welcomed a female cat into their home who showed up on their doorstep hungry and meowing away. They live in a somewhat rural area of a small city (20k people) in the midwest about 150 miles from Chicago metro. Unbeknownst to them, the cat was pregnant and, within a matter of days, gave birth to 4 kittens.
Uncle Jack is extremely allergic to cats and the dander from the fur causes him to develop severe rashes throughout his body. Aunt Beatrice did everything she could to find the kittens new homes, but ultimately could not part with two of them, keeping a total of 3 cats in the home. Then, the mother cat escaped beyond one of them when they opened the door to get the mail, only to return about 6 months later (2021) -- pregnant.
This time, the mother cat gave birth to a whole new litter of 4 kittens, making a total of 7 cats in the home. Aunt Beatrice again got to work trying to find a way to adopt out the kittens, but during the pandemic, shelters and resources were maxed out as people were returning their pandemic pets for the sake of living or work obligations. She was only able to adopt out 1 kitten, keeping 6 cats in the home. And this time, Aunt Beatrice managed to get the mother cat spayed at the local vet, but couldn't afford any other spay/neuter care for the other 5 cats.
Thinking that the rest of the cats would never leave their home -- one of the female kittens escaped into the wild, returning months later pregnant with her first litter of 4 kittens. Now, they had 10 cats in the home, and it was becoming more challenging caring for them. The original female cat was officially a grandmother. Uncle Jack began suffering from very serious allergies and feeling sick/ill more frequently. Again, all of the local rescues, humane societies, and even animal control turned them down when they called for help.
Within a matter of a month or so, the daughter of the grandmother cat escaped again, returning to give birth to another set of kittens. She did this another THREE times in 2022 alone. By the end of 2022, they had nearly 16 cats and/or kittens in their home. Christmas 2022, I came to visit them and stayed with them for a week. I called EVERYWHERE within the tri-county area and even out of state to get help for these cats, and everyone was unable to help.
Aunt Beatrice was covered in cat scratches and bites, complaining that they jump and run across her in the middle of the night. Uncle Jack had very serious rashes, and to make matters worse, developed liver failure and had now begun end-of-life care with hospice. Aunt Beatrice wanted to keep them all, Uncle Jack wanted to be rid of them. Family and friends alike advised to kill them ourselves or "wait it out". One family friend offered to feed the cats to their pet snake.
Out of time and out of options, I waited for a warm winter's day, a series of days where the weather was 50-60 degrees. My partner and I drove around for hours, searching for rural area with lots of barns or a small village of houses away from major roads. There, I released 3 cats into the wild. And into the woods they ran. It was all we could grab/find in the house, the rest were scattered and so hard to catch. I, too, was out of time. We returned home and scheduled our return visit for the spring.
In that six months, only two more sets of litters were born -- or so we thought. Aunt Beatrice donated them to the church clergyman who showed up to pray for her at the house. A few of the teenage Jehovah Witnesses took 3 of the kittens. Others ran away and/or escaped from the open door during mail time, never to be seen again. Anyone she could pawn them off onto was welcome to have as many as they could take.
In recent weeks, we came back to visit and help declutter their home. Things are worse than ever before. The smell was immediately sickening. Adult protective services made it clear that the cats had to go. Animal control refused to come pick them up, "We don't even come out for cats anymore," they said. Everyone is booked and full to the brim, resources maxed out. Local vets charge $500 to do a spay or neuter, or wait more than a month to get on the list for the humane society or the spay express at $150/cat. It's a lot of money that we don't have to spend on more than 20+ cats.
We found between 12-16 cats/kittens and two of them were no longer alive on the enclosed back porch, which was so heartbreaking to find. So, with the sun high in the sky and winter long gone, we began the venture of releasing the cats into the wild yet again. We released 7 cats in the first few days, all of which were never friendly or touched by a human. Cats are very intelligent and are rather illusive to catch and/or trap. One of the last ones caught kept hiding under the kitchen sink, but we released her.
The next morning, we found 4 more newborn kittens trapped under a drawer in the kitchen. We think they belonged to the cat that would return to that cabinet often... the one we had already released. We struggled so much with trying to feed the kittens, they just wouldn't take the kitten formula. In a 100 mile radius, we called every. single. rescue. Everyone was full.
We don't have the financial means to pay for vet costs, and they are hefty. My great aunt and uncle couldn't afford it either. We were preparing to watch these kittens pass away from starvation as our every effort failed, and we were completely lost. FINALLY, nearly TWO DAYS after we had already released the mother cat, we found a rescue about 120 miles away that could take all of the kittens - just the kittens. And so, we traveled across state-lines and delivered them into the hands of people who could help, thanking them immensely for their care.
Lastly, we tried again for help with the remaining 5 cats to no avail. No one had room or returned our calls. We released the last 4 cats into remote areas or very small rural towns, off main roads. We released the cats in sets of 2-4 each time so they wouldn't be alone or could hunt/survive together. At least they may have a shot at finding a forever home on a farm than they would being starved to death on a hot enclosed porch or worse.
Uncle Jack has been doing much better without the cats. He's been having much better days. We feel confident the worst of his illness and symptoms came from his high allergy to the cats. The cleanup continues, though. The oldest cat - the one who started this all 3 years ago - ran away during the process. Maybe she might return, maybe not. Who knows. At least she was spayed.
You know, even Chicago intentionally released feral cats onto their streets just for the sake of getting rid of rodent infestation. Cats are accustomed to wild. So, I'd like to think that they are taking care of any mouse problems in the small towns they now reside in. And hopefully, someone may have found themselves an outdoor pet or domesticated one of them.
Do I have any regrets? No, I don't think so. If ever anyone else finds themselves in a situation where they have cats they can't care for and no where to turn, I may advocate for releasing to the wild... albeit maybe spaying or neutering first, if possible.
If you ever found yourself in this situation, I completely understand why you released it into the wild instead of intentionally having it euthanized or turned into food for something else. No judgment whatsoever. It is what it is.
Nearly everyone online will tell you to wait it out for help. I'm here to say that in the worst of situations, sometimes, help never arrives. Sometimes, you have to save yourself... or the ones you love. And that's okay.
If you were me, what could you have done differently?
UPDATE -- So a few things to be clarified here:

1. I do not live with these relatives. They live alone. The rest of the family moved away over the past 30 years (including me) as the town has very little work beyond medical careers. They have been abandoned by the family. Maybe the cat fermentation has been keeping them going, I don't know.
2. Cats are all outdooferal cats that come in/out of the house with no restrictions, not touched by relatives. They literally only play with or pet the first cat. The others are all non-human friendly, and bite or attack people. The county animal control and the humane society refused several of them AT THE DOOR.
3. NONE of the rescues would take ANYTHING but baby kittens because they are considered "feral". None of them. They are all feral/wild and not people-friendly. The two that got trapped on the back porch by the hospice nurse? They didn't even know they were on the back porch. Otherwise, they would have been outside, too.
4. The closest vet clinic does actually cost $500. They charge office visit costs, costs for anesthesia, pain medications, use of tools, etc. Seriously, I saw the bill for the first cat and got quotes from them for bringing in 5 cats the first time. They wanted nearly $2,500. That's more than they make on SS in a month. I don't have that kind of money.
5. I called at least 70 different phone numbers to find a place for those kittens. Most went to voicemails. A lot of rescues only work via email. I had dying/starving kittens that I could not figure out how to properly feed. I called everyone on Google Maps across more than 150 miles. Literally had to travel 120 miles to the place that finally did take them. And to make matters worse, this was during Memorial Day weekend. Everyone was closed.
6. They were all released in areas that were about 40-50 miles away from their house, but there's always a possibility they will return as they probably know their way home as they have been indoooutdoor cats their entire lives. It won't matter though because they are being moved to a nursing facility this month, but still. I'm not sure what else I could have done.

I'm trying to fix some of my flaws. I need help, advice, and support.
18 year old male here
I'm mostly a nice guy. There are people who love me and appreciate me. Even more than I do myself.
Like everyone else, I have made mistakes, I have got some bad habits, etc.
I have done many things that I will always regret and feel guilty about. I have been a person who gets depressed, has a harder time breathing, has pains in the head and chest, and hates myself for it.
I do and say things I regret immediately after...
It seems like I have trust issues and insecurities. I have done some testing behaviors with friends and that didn't end well. I wanted love/validation, but all I got was isolation and condemnation from them. I don't totally blame them. I do blame me for letting my thoughts and demons take over. I was controlling my urge to test people for like four years now, but this year I relapsed on that and went hard to say the least.
I would just act like someone else and ask them questions about me like "what do you think about ___?" The reason I very rarely ask directly is because I don't really trust their answer and usually people are more open about someone when they aren't in front of that someone. That's all. I don't mean to hurt anyone. It's more of a confirmation.
I just want to see and know how people truly feel about me. I don't want more fake friends and a repeat of my past. I know I can't see what they are thinking but I would like to get as close as possible. I don't care what people do, but I don't want to waste my time with fake snakes and I don't want to get hurt.
I wasn't even that weird of a kid, but I was bullied for two years. I was used and abused by my so called friends during that time and I think that plays a role in how I feel about people. That role has definitely reduced from being more of a main part to more of a Lowkey side extra part.
I also have such an amazing memory that it is hard for me to forget my past and let go because of that elephant brain I have. I think I still have trauma from years ago that I need to and should really let go but I don't know how.
How should I let go of the past?
I'm taking a break from some social media apps or at least reducing my time on them. This seems to be working. I'm also taking a college class this summer and I'm going to university this fall. I hope that will help distract me from my life's darker side.
I will still always be careful with choosing friends even when I'm there. In fact I might be even more careful.
In some ways I'm really proud of myself for trying to fix myself, but I'm also very ashamed and embarrassed about it. Maybe that is the slight part of perfectionist in me?
I sometimes wonder why was I born and what is my purpose. Although I've had some thoughts, I'm not suicidal. I'm scared of suicide and death in general. I'm just curious and I feel worse than others at certain times.
I don't want to disappoint my loved ones. Especially my parents because I think they have done and sacrificed too much for me. I would just be mean and evil to end it all or not try to succeed and live recklessly.
Am I a bad person? What should I do? What would you do if you were in my shoes?
I'm taking a social media break since the pain and anxiety has gotten that tough to handle.
I'm on another AM guilt trip.
It got harder to breathe normally and it's hard to fall asleep even though I'm tired and I really want to. I'm imagining all the worst case scenarios about everything.
I need help... please...anything helps at this point. Thank you for reading.
I'm sorry.

I'm trying to fix some of my flaws. I need help, advice, and support.
18 year old male here
I'm mostly a nice guy. There are people who love me and appreciate me. Even more than I do myself.
Like everyone else, I have made mistakes, I have got some bad habits, etc.
I have done many things that I will always regret and feel guilty about. I have been a person who gets depressed, has a harder time breathing, has pains in the head and chest, and hates myself for it.
I do and say things I regret immediately after...
It seems like I have trust issues and insecurities. I have done some testing behaviors with friends and that didn't end well. I wanted love/validation, but all I got was isolation and condemnation from them. I don't totally blame them. I do blame me for letting my thoughts and demons take over. I was controlling my urge to test people for like four years now, but this year I relapsed on that and went hard to say the least.
I would just act like someone else and ask them questions about me like "what do you think about ___?" The reason I very rarely ask directly is because I don't really trust their answer and usually people are more open about someone when they aren't in front of that someone. That's all. I don't mean to hurt anyone. It's more of a confirmation.
I just want to see and know how people truly feel about me. I don't want more fake friends and a repeat of my past. I know I can't see what they are thinking but I would like to get as close as possible. I don't care what people do, but I don't want to waste my time with fake snakes and I don't want to get hurt.
I wasn't even that weird of a kid, but I was bullied for two years. I was used and abused by my so called friends during that time and I think that plays a role in how I feel about people. That role has definitely reduced from being more of a main part to more of a Lowkey side extra part.
I also have such an amazing memory that it is hard for me to forget my past and let go because of that elephant brain I have. I think I still have trauma from years ago that I need to and should really let go but I don't know how.
How should I let go of the past?
I'm taking a break from some social media apps or at least reducing my time on them. This seems to be working. I'm also taking a college class this summer and I'm going to university this fall. I hope that will help distract me from my life's darker side.
I will still always be careful with choosing friends even when I'm there. In fact I might be even more careful.
In some ways I'm really proud of myself for trying to fix myself, but I'm also very ashamed and embarrassed about it. Maybe that is the slight part of perfectionist in me?
I sometimes wonder why was I born and what is my purpose. Although I've had some thoughts, I'm not suicidal. I'm scared of suicide and death in general. I'm just curious and I feel worse than others at certain times.
I don't want to disappoint my loved ones. Especially my parents because I think they have done and sacrificed too much for me. I would just be mean and evil to end it all or not try to succeed and live recklessly.
Am I a bad person? What should I do? What would you do if you were in my shoes?
I'm on another AM guilt trip.
It is getting harder to breathe and it's hard to fall asleep even though I need sleep badly now and I have class early tomorrow morning.
Help me please...I honestly need everything I can get. Thank you for reading! <3

Chapter 1 - Stranger
When Daglan woke up that morning he didn't see anything unusual. He had awoken from a drop of water falling from the ceiling as he did many mornings. His best friend Rozere was in the kitchen with her father cooking what smelled of eggs. The sun was shining through the cracks in the curtains and holes in the walls as it always did. What felt different? Then he heard voices outside, voices that grew louder and louder. At this point Rozere and her father Koshu had heard the commotion as well and stepped outside to see what it was. Daglan hastily followed suit, after finding his tunic and boots.
Lying on the ground outside was a young man, no older than 25. He lay face up in the dirt wearing only baggy purple pants and a black conical hat covering his face. His long black hair seemed to be tied at the base of his head in a long spiky ponytail, his slender muscular body was covered in dozens of battle scars, and at his waist was a black katana with its sword tied firmly inside its sheath. Almost the entire town had crowded around him, murmuring and shifting anxiously. It wasn't often people arrived in town, mostly just traders on their way to and from Inoris, and that too was a rarity.
"Back now people, give this man some room! And for the love of Reza, quiet!" Barked Doc Silvis as she pushed through the crowd. She immediately knelt down and felt his neck with her fingers. She paused for a moment and gave a very annoyed sigh, slapping away his hat. "He's alive alright. This dumbass is sleeping in the street." She gave the stranger a hard slap across the face, one that would have probably knocked him out, had he been awake. The crowd watched in awe as he yawned and scratched his nose, barely affected by Silvis.
"What should we do?" Someone asked.
"Do you know who he is?" Asked another.
As the murmurs heighted Daglan could tell Silvis was getting fired up, over the years Daglan had gotten to know Silvis quite well, with all his escapades outside the town walls. Daglan knew better than anyone that Silvis hated when a patient ignored her, and more so when she had to repeat herself.
"I said quiet! Don't you lazy bums have more important things to do?! Livani! Koreso! Aren't you two on watch?! Scram the lot of you!" A wave of fear crashed down upon the crowd and everyone began to disperse. All but Daglan, as Rozere pulled on his sleeve.
"Come on Daglan," she hissed, keeping an eye on Silvis like she was some wild animal, "You don't want to make her angrier."
"I'll be fine," he whispered, without looking back, his eyes stuck on the sleeping man. What was this feeling? It was like the feeling he got when Silvis healed his wounds, but not as warm. Almost closer to the feeling he got when abominations were near, when he ventures past the walls, but not as malicious. Before he knew it he was kneeling next to Silvis, watching her run her hand across his body, her hands glowing faintly, his curiosity bubbling.
"He isn't cursed or hypnotized, I can't feel a single thing wrong with him. I do believe this man is really just asleep, and slept through a slap in the face." Silvis sighed. After a few moments she looked at Daglan with a tired smile, then frowned. "Thanks for being quite Daglan, now since you're gonna bum around, get to work hauling this bastard back to my infirmary and don't let him out of your sight. I want to know as soon as he wakes up."
Daglan looked around to ask Rozere for help but she was already gone, how long had he been watching this stranger and Silvas? He looked down at the smiling, snoring face of the stranger, scooped under his arms, and with much difficulty began dragging the older, bigger boy to the infirmary.
The infirmary was quiet today, there hadn't been a major abomination attack in quite a few weeks which didn't happen often. It wasn't long before Rozere came in with a grimace on her face and her fingers on her nose.
"Honestly," she said in that strange nasally voice when you hold your nose, "I hate how much time you make me spend here. Between you getting hurt and my dad making me help Silvas, I can't get away!" She plopped down next to him and sighed. "So what's with this guy? Why are you still here with him?"
"Silvas asked me to watch him and tell her when he wakes up. Apparently I can't let him leave till she talks to him." He shrugged, trying more to convince himself. She eyed him suspiciously, but immediately dropped the subject.
"Did you notice his sword was tied closed? I wonder what that's about?" She reached out and placed a hand on his sword, and just then the weird energy the stranger gave off changed from similar to those of the abominations , to even scarier than anything he'd ever felt from them. Rozere fell to her knees and screamed as the stranger stood over her. When had he stood up?! Daglan shot to his feet, a smile ripping across his face as excitement crackled through his body. He prepared to defend his friend, when just as quickly as the evil energy had manifested, it disappeared. In fact the feeling Daglan had been getting from the stranger had all but subsided completely.
He stared at Daglan and Rozere with a confused look. When Rozere had eventually stopped screaming, Daglan held out his hand to help her up. Daglan’s mind raced with questions but could he do nothing but stare at the stranger as he stared back.
“Uh, hello-” he began and just then Silvas and Koshu burst through the door with Livani and Koreso close behind. Koshu sprang in between Rozere and the stranger, towering over him.
"What did you do to my daughter!" He said through gritted teeth. The stranger scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth when Rozere spoke up,
"It was nothing dad, he just woke up and scared me! Look at me I'm fine, now would you stop!" But Koshu didn't flinch, not until Silvas spoke up.
"Back off Koshu, Rozere is right, she's fine, and this boy is obviously no danger at the moment." He mumbled something under his breath but did as he was told . "Yeah, listen to Silvas and not me." Rozere grumbled, crossing her arms.
"Now listen here young lady, you will show your aunt some resp–" Koshu began but Silvas smacked him in the back of the head.
"Now isn't the time, Koshu, take her and go," she glared at the stranger, who was still smiling awkwardly and scratching the back of his head.
“Everyone out, now.”
"Uh, where am I? He eventually stammered.
"Daglan, out." Silvas said forcefully, without taking her eyes off the stranger. As well as Daglan knew Silvas, he'd never seen her this worked up, not even about the abominations . She was so strong-willed, so much more than anyone else in town. He had heard stories about Silvas, but only bits and pieces around town, probably all made up. Still there was one he heard more than others, he had heard before she lived in Graybarrow she had fought in some kind of war.
Daglan sat outside the infirmary trying to hear as much as he could. Wondering what could have gotten Silvas so worried, and if that man was even human. He could barely hear anything, mostly Silvas's mumbled questioning and the nervous laughter of the stranger. As he sat and pondered, an extremely tall, wide shouldered man sat down next to him and lit a cigarette. He had a long thick mustache that covered his upper lip but came down on the sides past his chin, and scruffy brown hair that stuck up at weird angles.
"Oh, hi Mr.Lucio." Daglan said as he pretended to have not been eavesdropping.
"I haven't seen you in class," he said as he blew out a cloud of smoke, "and I don't often see you hanging around here by choice." He continued to puff his cigarette as they sat in silence.
"Mr.Lucio… I can feel him like the abominations and Silvas's healing. What is he?"
"I'm not sure, from what I've heard he sounds human enough. What do you think?"
"I don't know… I think he's human? But why can I feel him?"
"There must be something similar between him, Silvas's healing, and the abominations from the mountains and forest, hmm?"
"I guess so…" They continued to sit in silence until Lucio had finished his cigarette.
"You can always talk to me if you need help, Daglan. You may like getting experience more, but a little book learning can go a long way." He stood up, pressing his cigarette out between his fingers and putting the butt in his pocket. "It's always good to see you, don't be a stranger." He said as he waved his hand walking away. Daglan thought about what Lucio had proposed, something similar. It didn't seem like Silvas or the stranger would be coming out soon so Daglan decided to go home and see what Rozere thought about all this.
When he did get home both Rozere and Koshu were in foul moods, having most likely fought since earlier. Deciding that he'd rather not be part of that, he grabbed his bag and scurried out the front door before Kusho had time to notice.
It's a short walk to the gate, the guards had patched up his last hole in the wall, but he had since come up with another, more thrilling way. Climbing up to the top of the traders hall, he'd be high enough to jump to the wall once the guards had passed. Then it was a quick jump down and a sprint out of their eyesight before he was able to relax. He walked along a path he knew quite well until he came up on a small ladder, it was built into a tree that led up to a small treehouse.
His exploration headquarters as he liked to call it. The inside was small and filled with trash, and his souvenirs from his adventures sat on a roughly made table. A small Salegitti skull, a broken dagger missing its tip, and a small crystal like rock that shown with faint yellow light. Next to them were three well worn books. He picked up the book titled journal and sat on the ground, scribbling furiously with a small piece of charcoal. He then began to study the other two, older, bigger books. One titled, Abominations of Hel’s Peaks, and the other, Creatures of South Shodun. Mr Lucio was right about book learning, but he liked his own books.
Back in town Rozere was wandering around with her hands behind her head, whistling to herself. “I wonder where Daglan is?” She pondered allowed, before realizing she had stopped in front of Silvas’s office. She stared at the large building with its off-white stone, and massive steel doors. There were various cracks and dents all along the wells and doors, as well as wooden planks over the windows, Silvas called them the clinic’s battlescars, there was nowhere safer to hide in the whole town.
She stared for a long time before realizing there was a man sitting in the grass, a large bottle of alcohol in one hand, and multiple empty bottles sitting neatly by his legs. His long spiky hair was a little cleaner, and the copious amounts of drool were now wiped away. His face was a bright red, and he had a cigarette hanging from his lips. He stared at her with a slight wobble,
“Hey… You're that girl that touched my sword right?” He took another large gulp from his bottle.
“Yeah? What of it?” She asked with defiance, her hands on her hips. He smiled a sickening smile and shot to his feet faster than Rozere could see.
“Why don't you try it again? Or will you simply scream for help? Little girls shouldn’t play with monsters.” He said as he towered over her. “Go ahead.” He lifted his arm in the air so his katana was unblocked. Rozere’s knees began to shake and a lump formed in her throat but she did not look away. She was an ant, and this man was a giant. She wasn't going to back down, but he could stand faster than she could see. Surely dropping his arm even faster would be no problem right? He was right, she wanted to scream, but she stood firm.
“Maybe I will!” She returned his malicious smile and reached out for his sword as fast as she could, bracing for the impact and the horrible crunch of bones as he grabbed her arm and snapped it in half. She flinched as her nerves went off, electric sensations coursing through her fingertips. It's happened! But what she felt wasn't pain, but the hard yet somehow soft grip of a katana hilt. She opened her eyes to see her hand firmly gripping his katana and a much more playful smile somehow even wider across this strange man’s face. He began to laugh loudly as she stumbled backwards and fell. He held out his hand, still giggling a little. She eyed him hard then after a moment smacked his hand away. She stood up, and began to brush herself off, glaring at him all the while. He apologized in between giggles.
“My name is Noboru, you've got quite the spirit to face me down. What's your name kid?” He asked as he sat back onto the grass and took another long swig from his bottle. Rozere straightened up and looked at him with a fiery gaze.
“Rozere of Grayborrow.” She said, crossing her arms. “And you dont scare me!”
“What are you yelling about Rozere?” Silvas asked as she appeared behind her. “You!” she exclaimed as she saw Noboru “Where did you get all of that from!? Rozere give me a hand and throw away these bottles would you?”
“She's already gone.” Noboru giggled. Silvas spun around to see that Rozere had indeed disappeared, as Noboru began to laugh louder. Rozere could hear the slap from across town as she sat against the traders hall. As she pondered just how big a lump must be on the side of Noboru's face, a ball smacked her’s.
“Hey who did that!?” She demanded as she hoped to her feat, tears forming in her eyes, which she quickly wiped away.
“Oh, sorry Rozere! I didn't mean to! Honest!” Said the boy as he ran up and grabbed his ball off the ground before the evil Rozere could kick it away, her foot swishing in the air. The boy was a few years younger than Rozere, had shaggy blonde hair, a tunic that was two sizes too big for him and a pair of round glasses broken in several spots.
“You better be sorry, pipsqueak!” she said, wiping her eyes and now running nose. “I'll have to beat you up if not!”
“Come on give Vilcus a break he said sorry. What are you doing over here by yourself anyways? Daglan run away again?” Said another girl with little blonde pigtails and red cheeks, as she came up behind Vilcus.
“Hi Meska and no he didn't run away again.” Rozere said, sticking her tongue out. “I just think he went for a walk is all… he'll be back… soon!” She crossed her arms and held her chin up. “Well why don't you come play with us until he gets back?” Meska asked, turning around and walking away, “We are playing dodgeball, maybe you can hit Vilcus in the face.”
“Hey nuh-uh! She won't hit me!” Vilcus persisted as he followed after her. Rozere sniffled, rubbed her nose with her sleeve, and smiled.
“Okay fine, but wait up!” She yelled.

As Daglan walked through the trees, he could feel the malicious energies from abominations all around him, it was making his blood boil. He remembered the stranger looking down at him and Rozere, overflowing with the most malicious intent he had ever felt. A smile began to creep across his face once more, as he could feel something close behind him. He spun around to see a creature he had only seen in books, the sight of which excited and terrified him. 

A giant humanoid creature with a long smooth snake-like torso, and grotesquely elongated arms and legs stood before him. It had a small pair of arms on its hips that bounced as if boneless, and a strange human face. Smooth indents of skin sat where the eyes should be, and it had a beak lined with razor teeth that jutted out at multiple angles. It clicked its tongue and sniffed the air then began to lick its beak with what could only be called a smile.
“What should I call you big fella?” Daglan asked nervously as excitement shot through his body. This wasn't like anything he'd ever encountered in the forest, or during attacks. This creature was much more dangerous. He gritted his teeth and forced an equally disgusting smile, even though he was sure the abomination couldn't see him. He pulled out the dagger he had smithed in secret at Koshu’s forge and dropped his stance lower, lower, lower. The creator was clicking and sniffing in anticipation, no doubt it could feel Daglan’s bloodlust.
Daglan took a slow step forward, then another. The creature's head tilted and it sniffed harder, then in a flash that Daglan couldn’t even see, it lashed out, slashing his shoulder apart. Adrenaline had already made its way to Daglan’s brain and he didn't even feel the warm blood soaking into his tunic or notice his limp arm flailing behind him as he attacked. He rolled under the creature’s arm and slashed at its ribs ripping its open sending its guts pouring out. It screamed in pain and whirled around, but its tall body and long arms whizzed over Daglan’s head. He rolled again, this time in between its legs, slashing at its knee, cutting down to the bone. It screamed again and fell to its knees with a gross squishy thud from one. It twitched and spazzed as it began twisting its body around in a disgusting manner.
Daglan approached cautiously, but the adrenaline had worn off and he looked down at his arm. It was almost completely blue, and the little skin and bone that held his arm to his body squirted copious amounts of blood. There was a blur then he was flying through the brush stopping when he thudden into a tree. His eyes began to blur with red, then black. The last thing he heard was a familiar voice...
“You are by far the most interesting of the bunch. Hey, can you hear me?”
When Deglan awoke he was looking at a ceiling he knew all too well. In a bed he had awoken in many times. But this time he couldn't move. “Silvas! What's happening?! Silvas! Rozere!” Daglan began to thrash when he heard that same voice.
“Hey hey hey! You're going to hurt yourself more than you already have!” When standing over him, blocking the light with his conical hat, was the stranger. “That was a nasty creature you were tangling with out there. I heard you like to fight but I'm guessing you've never seen a lasari before? Ugly things, and not easy to kill with small weapons if you don't know how.”
“I do know how.” Daglan said matter of factly, “They have two brains located behind the eye sockets.”
“Oh-ho-ho,” the stranger smiled maliciously, “ but how do you stop them from reproducing after that?” Daglan went silent for a moment. “What do you mean?"
“Lasari have a fun ability to reproduce from their corpse. Specifically, their heart has two eggs inside that will hatch if it ever stops beating. So to properly kill one you must burn the heart.” He laughed and presumably sat back down, out of Daglan’s eyesight. There was a slight pause and Daglan was about to speak when he heard a gasp and the stranger continued.
“Anyway, you almost lost your arm. Luckily, your doctor and blacksmith were able to fix you up, those two are something else. It'll take some time for your bo-” Daglan cut him off.
“What do you mean I almost lost my arm?! What did they do to me?!” He exclaimed, thrashing, memories of his broken and bleeding arm flashing through his mind.
“If you don't calm down, I will calm you down.” He said forcefully. “I hate babies. I thought you were supposed to be a tough kid? Now anyways it's just me and you here, everyone else is asleep, so please. I know you've heard of the metal prosthetics of this country, Metics, I think they're called? I’ve seen people in town with them. Well your blacksmith had to help your doctor make you a new shoulder.”
“So why are you being so helpful? I don't know you, and you feel the same as an abomination.” “See it's things like that!” He shot back up his face noticeably red.
“You're so interesting! I don't remember how I got here…” He scratched his head for a second, “but boy have I had fun since I've shown up!” Your girlfriend Rozere-”
“She's not my girlfriend, and you leave her alone!” He shouted.
“Well she's fearsome! And you’re so interesting too! Definitely the best five year o-”
“I’m twelve. Rozere is thirteen.”
“Well twelve then. Point is, I like you and your little girly friend, so I thought I'd help out and not let you die.” Then it dawned on Daglan, there was no way a search party found him like when he normally gets in a scap and passes. He had thoroughly lost and was deep in the woods. By all accounts he should be dead. Daglan was so angry he hadn't even thought about what happened afterwards.
“It was you. So what do you want from me? Are you some abomination loo-” This time the stranger cut him off.
“My name is Noboru, the handyman.”
“I've never heard of that species.”
“Well I'm not an abomination, I'm a jack-of-all-trades, so to speak. I travel from place to place making money doing odd jobs. Anyways, you remind me an awful lot of someone I used to know. So don't go throwing your life away against such low level trash as the abominations around here.” Daglan began to feel the intimidating malice from Noboru, almost that of when Rozere had touched his sword. “I know you can feel my energy. Unlike the people of this town, save a few, I think you're gifted.” Then it was gone just as quickly as before. “What do you want, Daglan.” Daglan’s blood was fire and his eyes daggers, piercing the ceiling with determination.
“I want to be remembered.”
“So get out of this town and maybe one day you can fight me, and I’m not even the strongest out there. Come… show this world what you're… made of because I for one… can't wait.” Just then Daglan heard a thud followed by an endless cascade of snores from Noboru.
“Would someone get me out of here!”