Oakvale

Just south of Darkwood, home of the vicious blood-thirsty balverines, is the sleepy little village of Oakvale. There are fifteen buildings, with fourteen of them available to be purchased if the proper conditions are met. At the heart of town are the general store, armorer, and tavern. At the southeast end of the town are three warehouses where goods are kept to be stocked in stores and traded in the nearby Barrow Fields, where traders like to gather. There is a small, modest cemetery on the east side where Oakvale villagers and the occasional passing trader are put to rest. If one were to have a spade and a diminished aversion to grave robbery they might find treasures and gold buried with the dead. The southern end touches the ocean and a single dock awaits incoming ships. Few ever use this port, as most traders choose to travel on foot.

The four houses on the western end, as well as one on the east side are owned by Alpha, the vicious Hero that terrorizes the town from time to time. The rent on these houses is unethically high and the inhabitants have a difficult time keeping up. A combination of this and her constant thievery from the shops result in the economy of Oakvale never really being able to recover from the bloody, devastating bandit raid that razed it to the ground just over a decade ago. It seems that Oakvale will never be able to become more than a playground for those too strong to be put down by the law and too morally corrupt to be halted by their own misgivings.

The afternoon sun hung brightly in the sky, lending its light to the inhabitants of Oakvale as they went about their daily business. Traders called to passersby, trying to tempt them with their wares. Children played in the streets while their mothers watched them from the doorways or through windows. The men were hard at work tending the fields and stocking the warehouses. There was no hint of danger, no sign that the people of this village had anything to fear.

It had been only about a decade since Oakvale was destroyed by bandits, yet the industrious and determined people had never given up trying to restore it. Curiously, however, they had not made any attempt to increase security. It seemed as though they should have realized they were left open to enemies and done something about it. No such attempt had been made, but some said it was not necessary. Bandits had already lost interest in the village. Undead did not rise from their cemetery. Hobbes did not besiege them. The only creature they had to fear anymore, logically speaking, was the most dangerous of them all. Perhaps their lack of effort was in fact a wise decision. How does one keep out a Hero who wishes to get in?

Unbeknownst to the peaceful people, a pair of grey eyes watched them from the branches of a large oak tree just outside the town. It was almost surreal to think that at this very moment, there was peace. There was no fear, and no one had a concern more pressing than what would be for dinner. That was about to change very quickly.

How it was that the villagers had not come to expect her coming yet, the rogue Hero couldn't fathom. Every few months she raided Oakvale and each time she wondered if perhaps next time they would have formulated some security measures. More guards or a wall would at least hold her off for a little while, but neither change had ever been made.

Her conclusion was that they liked being robbed blind and as always, she'd come prepared for this. Her sword rested in its sheath on her back, while her bow waited in her quiver for the rare occasion on which she used it. Vials of various colored liquids hung from her belt, tied in place by leather strings. Her leather shirt would protect her from minor wounds and, in a worst case scenario, her Guild Seal was sewn into it in case she needed to make a quick escape. Her favorite part of all of this, however, was her cloak. Made from the pelt of a balverine, it had been carefully constructed so that it retained the look of the beast she had stolen it from. The long, thin arms covered her own when she was at rest. The legs had been removed as they were far too long and would drag the ground, but that was hardly noticeable. The head had been hollowed out so that she could wear it as a hood. The eye holes of the balverine served as her eye holes as well, allowing her to see with the hood up. This cloak camouflaged her in the darkest of environments and allowed her to blend seamlessly into the shadows. From a distance, balverines would judge her as one of their own and generally pay her little mind. And the people she wished to terrorize would at first misjudge her for a creature that they ought to fear far less.

Gracefully she dropped down several branches, intentionally causing the one she landed on to shake. A small girl playing near the base of the tree looked up, her tiny eyes squinted as she attempted to figure out what had been the cause of the disturbance. Only a few seconds later the girl screamed and ran for the village center. "Balverines! In the trees, balverines!"

The child ran into town as fast as her chubby legs would carry her, repeating her high-pitched squeal of alarm. The villagers halted their business and prepared for the beast. Mothers pulled their children indoors and barred the door. Men picked up pitchforks, clubs, and various arms from the weapons shop. Very rarely did a balverine travel so far south as Oakvale, but it wasn't unheard of. But for one to venture forth in broad daylight was another matter entirely. That should have caused the men to proceed with caution, but they were foolish and they obviously hadn't learned from their past mistakes.

It took the villagers longer than she would have liked to amass their meager army. She tapped an unnaturally long fingernail against the branch on which she perched. Had she a mind to and no sense of honor or sportsmanship she could have massacred the entire population by now. From her vantage point she could watch as they gathered at the heart of the city with their found weapons, ranging anywhere from a stick or a pot to a broadsword. It was a laughable attempt, but at least they were providing her with entertainment.

The men gathered at the base of the tree and looked up, trying to discern the dark fur of a balverine from the shadows of the leaves. She remained completely still and silent with her eyes trained on them. Her delayed attack was not from fear. On the contrary she was testing them to see how long it would take for one of them to find her. Were she a true balverine, no doubt she would have revealed her presence already. Besides, standing so close to the very oak the beast was supposed to be hiding in was a devastatingly stupid move. But these people were devastatingly stupid in general.

The first to spot her was a balding pot-bellied man in the center of the mob. "There's the beast!" he roared, rushing to point her out to the others. She locked eyes with him and tossed her head, flipping her hood back to give him a wolfish grin. Instantly the man turned pale and turned to run, nearly tripping over himself in his haste.

"Alpha!" he yelled hoarsely as he fled in much the same fashion as the girl had. That was all the warning they needed. Panic broke out as they scattered like the frightened sheep they were. She had been pillaging Oakvale for nearly ten years and even the youngest children knew to fear her, as they should. She was well known for her willingness to strike down a child just the same as she would their mother or father. Her morality may be questionable but she refused to leave orphans.

Alpha jumped from the tree and landed on the balls of her feet easily. Then with all the dispassion of a practiced killer she raised a hand and sent a burning ball of flame toward the man bringing up the rear of the fleeing herd. It hit him in the back, enflaming him until he was nothing more than a pile of ash. A sadistic smile curved her lips, displaying her over long pointed teeth as she strode forward confidently, sending jolts of lightning, more fireballs, and the occasional flock of spectral bats toward the villagers. It was fun striking them down, sure, but she had business to attend to. So she changed direction for the heart of town and when she reached the door of the general store she drew her sword. The mid-length blade glowed red and white, then shimmered silver alternately. The magically altered sword cut through the door of the general store like butter and allowed her to pass through easily. She then returned the sword to its sheath on her back. The shopkeeper's family sat huddled behind the counter in fear. Alpha sneered at them and turned her back, instead focusing on sweeping all of the merchandise into her bag. It was a good haul this time. There was plenty of food as always, along with cider crates, diamonds and rubies, and a keg of beer. Once there was nothing else left on the shelves and her bag was bulging at the seams she fled the building.

By now the guards had realized she was there and the alarm had been activated. Swarms of blue-uniformed men charged at her, brandishing swords and crossbows. Alpha let out a beastly roar and charged at the guards. When she was close enough she leapt at the nearest one and sank her magically altered teeth into his neck. He fell to the ground, clutching his gaping open wound and gurgling pathetically. A few of the guards did the wise thing and ran, abandoning their ranks in favor of preserving their lives. But many foolish men remained. Alpha cast a shimmering silver barrier around herself and drew her sword once more. The blade whistled through the air as she cut into the stomach of the guard in front of her. He fell to his knees with a grunt, leaving her to slash and jab at the others. She was far faster than they were as a result of endless training and they didn't stand a chance. One after another they fell. Before moving on Alpha knelt and began looting the bodies, taking money, petty items, and each and every one of their daggers. She was all about the trophies, and she had the dagger of every guard she'd ever killed. They hung on the wall of her home in Knothole Glade, the only town in all of Albion that revered her as a true hero.

Alpha then ran headlong for the west side of town. She burst into the first house she found but she spared the inhabitants, being that they were her renters.

"Pay up," she demanded, holding out her hand. The woman keened softly and the man stammered, "M-my wages are late, but if you'll only give us three more days..."

That's as far as he got. Alpha raised her hand and hit him with a burst of energy. He screamed, apparently expecting imminent death. What he got was blinding pain as runes in the language of the Old Kingdom were carved into his chest. He wouldn't understand them, but they would translate to mean her ownership over him. They may be just letters but they would bind him to her, making him her slave.

"Get the money, I don't care how," she ordered. He nodded jerkily. "Yes. Of course. Thank you, merciful Alpha."

She snorted scornfully. "Don't make me change my mind."

She left the house then and went to the other three clustered near it. They all were hers, and the process was repeated at each one. The inhabitants of these homes had the rent, as was wise, so she moved on. At the last house, however, she paused, noticing the head of a white balverine mounted on the wall. Those creatures were few and far between, and she'd been tracking one near Knothole Glade before it just disappeared. This house had belonged to another Hero before herself, one by the name of Druid, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was her balverine. As she neared the trophy she saw the scar over its muzzle that she'd dealt it in their one and only encounter, and she sneered. It was certainly hers. Decisively she plucked the trophy from the wall and shoved it into her bag as well. There was no way some second rate Hero was getting the prize for her hard work. She'd tracked it for months before its disappearance. It had been her kill. The trophy was hers.

Satisfied, Alpha left the house and went back to the heart of the town, directly in front of the tavern. There she waited for more guards to come for her. It didn't take long before red-uniformed guards swarmed her from all directions, planning to overwhelm her. Alpha squared her feet and began muttering incantations. A burning circle of runes and symbols surrounded her and the guards and then they were carried into the air from the force of this Infernal Wrath. She held it for as long as she could. When she released it charred bodies fell to the ground, not a sign of life from any of them. Before she was attacked again she plucked a vial from her belt and drank the blue liquid within quickly.

Though she would have loved to stay all day and dispose of guard after guard, the fact was she had other business to attend to. So at a leisurely pace she meandered toward the northern part of the city. Each time a wave of men would set upon her, she would halt and face the oncoming challenge with gusto. Some fell to a well-placed slash from her sword. Others lost their lives at the hands of arrows, while still others were set upon by whatever manifestation of Will Alpha cared to unleash upon them. Time increased between each wave until she was able to walk right out of the village without a scratch, sneering at the carnage behind her.

A/N: This is a revamp of a fic I posted a year or so ago. This first chapter is hardly different, I just fixed a few errors. But I've got a different direction for the overall plot and I'm going to clean up my characters. Let me know what you think in the reviews.