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HIDDEN FANGS IN SELM


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HIDDEN FANGS IN SELM

A recollection of gruesome events, penned by Viktoriya-Marie Thérèse Adelaide Margaret Genevievé Helen Pruvia-Albarosa née Châteaudun.

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1st of Horen’s Calling, 1776

 


T’was was a gloomy day in Helena, the clouds overhead burdened with rain. Imperial soldiers marched to & from the Bastille, patrolling their city with great endeavor. Cadet Viktoriya-Marie Pruvia & her husband, Sergeant Philip Pruvia were celebrating the former’s birth date while on patrol, when they, alongside their brethren, were called to the Assembly Point in the Bastille. 

 

“Comrades!” Cadet Augustus Helena called.

”The Wolf population in our surrounding woodland has skyrocketed – they’ve driven local game to near extinction, and our citizens to abandon their homes in fear they’ll be attacked. We must put a stop to this!”

 

Alongside Augustus, Viktoriya, and Philip, Sergeant Jacquelyn Cenobia, Recruit Alistair Brashton, Sergeant Matthias Stafford set out to the woods outside of the Barony of Selm, sabers in hand & crossbows cranked. As they advanced upon the territory, Sergeant Pruvia had begun to pick up tracks – that of a Dire Wolf’s. As they continued down the trail, the bodies of two Imperials had been uncovered, hidden in the thick undergrowth of the forest. When they had begun to drag them out, in order to identify & bury them, the great beast revealed itself, charging straight for Sergeant Cenobia, who’d taken the front of the patrol. 

Making quick work of the situation, she challenged it with her saber, while the rest of the patrol shot & shouted at the creature. With its tail between its legs, it fled: into Selm. 

 

The patrol perused the beast, until they came to a small opening in the ground – a Wolves’ Den. 

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Bravely, they continued the chase, fueled with the determination to keep their Great City safe. 

The wolves inside the abandoned quarry often came in tens – feral and vicious, thirsting for blood & gore. Despite this, the Imperial Soldiers never gave way.

 

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Finally, after half an hour of fighting, they’d believed they had cleared the first floor. Yet . . . As they continued the onslaught, more & more seemed to pour into the room – fighting each individually proving to be as useless as chopping the head off a Hydra. It was then, they discovered, that there were tens of hundreds more below: and their resistance to the colony of canines became futile.

 

Cleverly, Recruit Brashton suggested an explosion – a Molotov in his hand, aimed at the barrels of rum below. Cadet Helena gave the go-ahead, and after the other ISA had finished their shots at the wolves, Brashton threw the Cocktail. 

 

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As it flew through the air, the bottom of the bottle had hit the edge of a stalactite, sending it off course – straight into the several barrels of alcohol below. Without much time to react, the patrol dove for cover. All except the brave Sergeant Cenobia & Cadet Pruvia escaped harm. Sergeant Cenobia was left with burns & a hefty chunk of wood lodged into her thigh, making it impossible to walk. Cadet Pruvia had suffered terrible burns & scrapes, along with a temporary loss of sight, hearing, and consciousness. 

 

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After the explosion, the Dire Wolf revealed itself once more, a thirst for blood & vengeance for its brethren apparent in its gaze. It lunged for Sergeant Cenobia first, leaving an incredible chunk missing from her already-damaged leg. It then began to chase them out of its decimated home, now after the two Pruvians – Viktoriya narrowly escaping death’s maws as Sergeant Stafford vaulted out in front of the Cadet and began to slash at its eyes, driving it back, leaving just enough time for the rest to escape. 

 

Not long after, the patrol arrived at Stamya’s Hospital, in Helena. The Medics were quick to treat the two injured women, their conditions now as follows:

 

 

SERGEANT JACQUELYN CENOBIA | Not in great condition ; Burns, scrapes, etc. have been treated ; The Dire Wolf Bite-Wood pole impalement wound was too serious to leave untreated. The Sergeant’s leg has been amputated, and the Medics highly suggest that Cenobia retires from the ISA.

 

CADET VIKTORIYA-MARIE THERESE HELEN PRUVIA | In stable condition ; Burns, scrapes, etc. have been treated ; Burns covering upper half of body now left to heal, though will scar quite terribly ; Final verdict – Cadet Pruvia is fit to continue her service in the ISA

 


Comrades, rivals, and all those in between – 

Join me in prayer that our fantastic Sergeant Cenobia returns to her family safe & well – and, that, should she be required to retire, be blessed with longevity and health. 

 

 

IN NOMINE DEI,

Viktoriya-Marie Thérèse Adelaide Margaret Lorraine Genevievé Helen Pruvia-Albarosa, Chancellor of Culture

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Brandt Barclay would read through the parchment with pursed lips as his head shook from side to side, slowly whilst a sigh escaped him "It ist almost like everytime something happens in Helena it ist bad news" he says before putting the letter away "May Godan show mercy!"

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Sergeant Stafford sits in his quarters in the enlisted barracks of the bastille, wiping the direwolf’s blood from his sword, images of flames and savage wolves still playing in his mind. The Orenian soldier kneels down, signing the lorraine, and says a prayer. ”Dear St. Emma of Woldzmir, thank you for watching over my comrades this day. Thank you for guiding my blade and ensuring we returned alive from that hellish pit of despair. Watch over Sergeant Cenobia, and Godan willing, aid them in continuing to serve this great empire.”

 

The sergeant slowly rises to his feet and goes to return to his post at the gates of the capital, glad to put the memory of the flames, blood and direwolves behind him.

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Philip Augustus sits quietly, dragging his hand across the only wolf pelt he had managed to salvage. The dire wolf had chased them out of Underselm. It would have killed them, had Stafford and Brashton not beat him back. They could have died.

 

Yet if the Army did not put an end to this infestation, who would? There was no choice. The pack had been damaged severely. They had killed all the pups they found, and put down almost twenty with the explosion and with their crossbows. At least a dozen remained, cornered, terrified, more dangerous. And the dire wolf, their sovereign.

 

The Prince lifts his crossbow, his cap. He clasps his own breastplate. The swordbelt then, and off to formulate their next plan of action. These wolves would terrorize no longer.

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