by Simon Archer
Maybe William really did do a number on King Steve, and the Regent had just taken advantage of that. And that could have been just because he was a Wolf purist. People in my world had made dumber decisions based on prejudicial or nationalistic pride. Then he’d have kept him propped up as a god to make sure the nobles still loyal didn’t revolt. It all made sense. But he’d had all of this time if Wolves were supposedly immortal. Why not stage a murder or a tragic accident, lose the ‘Regent’ title and become High Emperor Silverfang? His position would have had to offer the same amount of control and respect. He’d have been sitting cozy forever.
There were only a couple of questions that hadn’t been answered yet by this shaky theory. Maybe they weren’t important to the whole equation. Maybe history and the present were really just separate things, and today’s problems were a whole different animal. But why were Wolves forgetting? Was that just part of being a Wolf? And why did bunny magic fix that? Was it just because magic did whatever it wanted? And where the hell did all of these Wolves come from? They didn’t mate, they supposedly didn’t age, and they were losing their memories. Maybe that’s what they were really trying to remember. If they were running low on Wolves, that’d have threatened the whole empire. And if no one could have remembered how to get more, that’d also have been a problem. The longer they waited, the more unlikely it’d have been that they’d have rediscovered it. Hell, this might have been the last Blood Moon that they’d have had a chance to get that memory. If the generator and the brass-colored plates were only giving weird powers, they were running out of options and time. Their culture would have been dying, especially if I continued my campaign through their empire. That was the big question, then.
I honestly hoped that monster reproduction wasn’t actually the ultimate goal of this whole evil plan of theirs. In any of the books I’d read back in my world, villains were robbing banks or little frontier towns, the magic villains were conquering worlds with magically evil armies or powers, or the modern ones were using shady deals with criminals to take over governments, furthering their powerful evil with dark magics or technologies. These guys were trying to remember where babies came from. I’d already outlawed that whole concept in my own household on principle and resented the Wolf nobility for forcing it back into my conscious thought again.
Hopefully, I was wrong about all of that, and there was just a missing puzzle piece that I wasn’t putting in. They could have never considered that, being immortal, and just wanted to remember their history for the sake of racial pride. Thankfully, while my theory was fairly cohesive and complete, it made some big assumptions I didn’t have the information to support. Though realistically speaking, it would have been nice and simple to know that they really did have just the simple plan instead of having to grasp in the dark for the worse truth. If the devil was in the details, better the devil puppy you know than the devil alpha you don’t.
“Wildheart said that Jackalope is close by here, right?” I said, looking up north. “That’s going to be our best bet for more information on this area. At the very least, I can get us more troops to work with, and we can plan our attack from there. I’ll take the girls on Beau, and we’ll get eight of you on four of the other striders. Once we get everything we can, we’ll come back in four days, hopefully with good news.”
“How are we going to go into the city?” Hopper paused her sewing to talk to me.
“Do you think the front door is a bad option?” I asked her.
“Well, this is the city closest to the generator,” Tinker argued as she joined the discussion, “It’s probably crawling with the Regent’s spies and bad guys. I bet the city’s baron is one of his pack members. It could even be another former champion challenger!”
“All the more reason we’d need to take it from him,” I reasoned, “As fun as it would be to sneak into the keep and just assassinate everyone, Wolves don’t recognize that as a legitimate challenge. We’d throw the city into chaos, endanger all of their Rabbits, and waste a lot of time trying to keep everyone safe. If we’re sneaking in, we’re going in silent as a shadow in the night. I’ve got too much jangle in all of my clothes to be super quiet, and I’m not the best at urban stealth. I’m a pretty big guy, and I stick out in a lot of places. However, if we try to just challenge the baron, he could just refuse me on account of not being a Wolf.”
“But you’re the lord of a whole city!” Tinker’s comment distracted her from bicep poking. “He can’t just refuse you! You guys are practically at the same level.”
“Not on a racial basis,” I refuted, “I have to prove tooth-and-nail what I’m worth by killing whoever’s above me on the social ladder before they even recognize I’ve claimed a rung on it. If he’s got the backing of the Regent on his side, that’ll put him above other barons, let alone someone who only controls the regional equivalent of the time-out corner.”
“Then how are we supposed to get anything done?” Tinker ducked under my arm to lay on my lap. “If everything we do is only going to make it worse, what do we pick? Are we just going to go for the least amount of damage?”
“Lord Hank always finds a way.” Hopper patted Tinker on the thigh. “He came here with only three special muskets and a housekeeper to his name, and yet he managed to get a pack, make an arsenal, storm a city, and become a regional lord in a month. And most of that month was spent traveling with starving Wolves. Also impressive. If anyone can do it, it’s him. Right, my lord?”
“Of course, my dears.” I gave them a wink. “Just because I’m low on conventional options doesn’t mean I can’t make due. That’s when I do my best work. Since we beat Wildheart to a pulp, and he had such a damn doozy of a time coming to terms with me as the one he was supposed to challenge, I’m guessing that they don’t quite know that I’m not a Wolf. They might suspect it when I come a-knocking, but they won’t know for sure until things get really dicey. As long as we don’t tip anyone off that we’re coming for that generator, we’ll be safe to plan out a better strategy once we’re inside. If we can get the challenge done and over with quickly, we’d have the city in our grasp and a nearby base of operations to plan out our strategy to take the generator properly. If this thing’s as important as I think it is, we’ve got to do it right the first time.”
“So, do you think getting into this city’s going to be easier or harder than getting into Thumperton?” Hopper asked.
“That depends on what type of Wolf the Regent would want next to his precious generator,” I reckoned, “He’ll be loyal, and probably pretty capable in a fight, but is he the toughest thug that the Regent could find, or the most loyal snitch?”
“I’m hoping for a thug.” Tinker snapped her head up, slinking under my outstretched arm again to go grab her hammer. “I’m gonna kill the baron this time.”
“Not if I get to him first.” Hopper laced three flourishes into her needlework, tucking the leftover string away before I could even see what she had snipped it with. “C’mon, slowpokes!”
Leaning over to her side, she let go of my arm as she fell through a portal she had made beside the log, disappearing. Far away, I heard a thump as I looked over to see Hopper sitting side-saddle on Beau’s back, eagerly awaiting the rest of us to get on board.
“It really feels like you guys are dragging your heels about this.” The Cheshire-cat of bunnies put her fists on her hips. Tinker scoffed, hammer in hand, and I just let out a snicker. “I was able to drop all of my stuff and get here as quick as I could. Let’s go already!”
11
“That’s unsettling.”
I quietly remarked at what I saw as the team made it to the edge of the forest next to the city of Jackalope’s front gate, hiding from view while keeping eyes on it to observe the place. Many things we saw were fairly typical of what I expected, like the stable, the tall walls, armed guards, city banners, all well and good. Also expected, each of these things was very lavished.
The stable was fairly full of stri
ders, in a panoply of horsey colors and patterns, except with leathery scales instead of fur, and had both Wolves and hares handling and caring for them, though the hares were obviously taking care of the more menial and squishy labor. It had enough for a good ten or so of them, which suggested to me that this place expected a lot of travelers and needed the extra stable space for public parking. The place was a cultural hub and would have had a lot of visitors from other cities coming in for trade. Or not, when I was cut off because I wasn’t part of the Regent’s pack.
Guess I would have had to depend on trade between this place and Thumperton if I wanted to survive in the long-term.
The walls were a little taller than the walls of Thumperton, not that I was comparing sizes or anything, and stretched out farther around before curving, making its city limits just a bit larger as well. That probably meant more nobles to wrangle and kill once I’d taken over. Maybe I could have sped things up this time, so I wouldn’t have to waste what little I had on battle- bureaucracy. After I did that, I’d have established some trade with Thumperton so that they weren’t just salvaging what little they had and repurposing it, and we’d be in business. The beginnings of a place people could live in without being afraid of being eaten or treated as inferior.
The city guards looked a bit more regal than Thumperton’s, and had more plate on their armor, to boot. That was actually exciting. If that armor was any quality, they might have had spares, and I could outfit a few of my troops for the raid. Even if we couldn’t find any information for the Mana Crusher, there, I’d have had enough troops to take out the patrols and push for the generator simultaneously, claiming that little window that I’d need to evaluate their defenses further in to make a surprise attack work.
Like any classic Wolf noble’s abode, the city banners were a sign of the wealth of the baron, and a way to intimidate whoever thought they could take the noble in a fight. The crest was a stylized European-esque caricature of a very large Wolf with another Wolf in its jaws. As if that message wasn’t clear enough, the large Wolf had another dead Wolf under its footpaw, and a spear in two hands that was stabbing yet another Wolf. It was either a bluff, and this fight would have been easy, or it was completely accurate and still not impressive enough to deter me from killing him.
However, none of that was a part of the bad sign that I had pointed out, rather the framework for it. For all of its opulent economic prospects, fortress-like structure, tough security, and scare tactics, the thing that worried me the most was the fact that the front door was wide open. Wolves were passing in and out of the city, traveling along the road and up the northward road, and the guards were just standing at attention while they walked right through. That spoke to a very secure baron, who didn’t feel the need to vet visitors for anything dangerous. This was the closest town to the ever-so-important Mana Crusher with all of the mysterious experimentation and magical secrets involved. Wouldn’t that have been a cause for lots of security, making sure this city was never threatened under any circumstance?
Even if the Regent controlled everything, there had to be a few dissidents like there had been at Thumperton, who’d be looking for any opportunity to take the Regent down. This generator was the perfect way to get that done. No one with any sense would let a fortress this close to it even have a breath of a chance to take a shot. They could have been ridiculously loyal, which was a prime possibility with how the former champion vassals I now had were so convinced of the Wolf propaganda. That might have worked with the populous, but the nobles wouldn’t have been so easy to keep down so tightly.
The Regent couldn’t have afforded any risks, or they’d have searched for any chance to raise their position, or use this city as a way to blackmail the Regent into giving them more power. That might have been what the baron of Jackalope was already doing. That would have taken some serious balls to even attempt, and made anyone who thought to try it a bit paranoid, or the Regent would have done what he would have been afraid that another noble would have done. So, either the Jackalope baron was an idiot beyond measure, and only claimed the city yesterday, or he believed he was more than a match for anyone who’d have thought to try to claim the city by any means. Fingers crossed for the first one.
Despite all of that, it surprisingly gave us significantly more leeway to operate. The Regent wasn’t this guy’s boss, even if he was the pack leader. He wouldn’t have been giving strict reports, if any, about suspicious activity in his city, so long as there wasn’t anything affecting the generator. That gave us lots of room to breathe, plan, and crush this city. We probably wouldn’t have had to worry about tipping our hand unless we did something ridiculous like, say, take the city for ourselves out from under him. But a non-Wolf could never have done that, right?
“It makes things easier, right?” Tinker, sitting in front of Hopper, who was in front of me on Beau’s saddle, said to the group of us, “That’s one less obstacle to get over, and one step closer to getting that generator. Why are you worried?”
“I prefer this to how we had to get into Thumperton the first time.” Hopper leaned back into me to rest dramatically. “I don’t think I could have taken another back-talking Wolf questioning Lord Hank like they had any more right than to like his boots clean. He’d be licking my boot clean of his own blood before he got a second sentence out.”
“Yes, someone taking me seriously at first glance for once would be a refreshing change of pace.” I pulled Beau’s reins to move him to the side. “Although, I can’t say that’d be much fun for a noble to try to deal with me with some intelligence. I’ve been coasting on their stupidity, blind rage, or arrogance to fight them. I’d hate to have to out-think someone smarter than me when they were already stronger. Good thing I have you two to help with someone like that.”
“What should we do, sir?” the white-with-black-spots Snoopy asked, riding a strider alongside Foxhound, the reddish-brown gunner behind him.
“Two of you will hide out here.” I lead the other four striders along the edge of the forest as we mozied along to the stable. “If things get dicey, we might need someone to free up the striders or cause a distraction from the outside. I’ll shoot three lightning rounds straight up into the air if I need you to get the striders, and four if I need a distraction. Look for streaks of blue lightning in rapid succession. Who thinks they could handle that?”
“Boss, I don’t mean to be so bold,” Old Yeller, a blonde veteran of my household riding along with Scooby, strutted along with his strider, “I have mastered all of the attention-grabbing skills that my job title requires of me. I’d be more than capable of keeping any number of Wolves distracted for you as your personal Master of Screams.”
“Yeller, that’s just your name.” Tinker threw her hands in the air. “You aren’t a ‘yeller’ any more than I’m a ‘tinkerer’ or Hopper’s a ‘hopper.’ That’s just what Lord Hank’s named us! They just fit.”
“But I like yelling,” Old Yeller looked at Tinker, “I’m the best at it in Lord Dragonoak’s household. I thought that’s what a name was all about. Being the best you can be for Lord Dragonoak. The Master of Screams.”
“Yes, that’s what I told you, but I also said it means you can strive to be the best at anything else you do, too!” Hopper chimed in, “Do you think that Scooby’s just the best at ‘scoobing?’ The Scoobing Master? What would ‘scoobing’ even be?”
“Is that not what you call it when he goes on those rants with all of the big words?” Foxhound asked, “You know, he goes ‘scoobadoobadeebitybopboopbaowscoobadibamsceedly- bop,’ or whatever he says, and then Lord Dragonoak says ‘of course, Scooby, let me say that shorter, what great scoobing you just did! You’re so scooby, Scooby. My Master Scoober.’ And he really is very scooby. He’s been doing that pretty well so far, from what I’ve seen.”
“I am pretty good at that, aren’t I?” Scooby puffed his chest out just a bit more.
“Scooby’s not even a real word, is it?” Tinker looked a
t me to see if I knew.
“I wouldn’t know,” I laughed, “Girls, as a professional Sisyphus in charge of explaining things to Wolves, let me just advise that this is a boulder you shouldn’t bother yourself with.” I turned to the two furred knuckleheads. “Do you two think you can handle the distraction if we need one?”
“YES.” Old Yeller, my personal Master of Screams, projected his confirmation.
“All of the parameters of your imploration fall well within my capabilities. Therefore my involvement in the activities requested can be guaranteed.” Scooby, my Master of Scoobing, rambled his confirmation.
“Excellent.” I turned Beau towards the stable, heading out of our forested cover. “Remember, three lightning bolts straight up for getting the striders ready for us, four for the distraction. Do not get caught out here before then.”
The two of them saluted me, heading back deeper into the forest to proudly and capably wait for the signal. The rest of us headed up to the stables, turning our striders in to be held until our business here was concluded. The nine of us, including myself, the girls, and the six Wolves I was taking with me, made our way into the open city of Jackalope.
I had to admit that the place was extravagant. Cobblestone streets, wide sidewalks, no building below two stories, an urban marvel of Wolfish culture. As such, there was still that tinge of rotten meat in the air as soon as the gate threshold was passed. Weaker than I remembered from the first time I’d been in Thumperton Port, but still noticeable after having scrubbed that out of every stone back there. Honestly, though, the fly population wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would have been, given my previous knowledge of Wolfish attention to hygiene. Everything had a bit of scuff and dirt on it, even the people, giving any given frame of view an earthier look. Compared to how the old Baron of Thumperton had the city and his personal quarters caked in filth, this was refreshing. I didn’t have nearly as much work ahead in reforming this town as the last one.
