Chapter 5 The Crone

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Xionsd: sooooo now Jon is to become a slave…

"Slave" is a strong word. Sure, wolves can be tamed. But dragons do not serve, they rule.

Previously

"You are a good pup, Jon. But there is a wolf to be made out of you yet."

… "…Tonight, we let the beast out!"

Nightfall on Innistrad is nothing romantic. The sight of the sun sinking under the horizon signals every sane person to lock themselves inside a confine of their home. Sometime that still might not be enough for the danger that lurks in the shadow doesn't care about the boundary. The church preaches about having faith in Avacyn and her flights of angels. The local population might form a Cathar to protect themselves. But that would still not be enough. No one had seen Avacyn in ages and many think she is just a myth. Only a few know the truth, and fewer even alive to tell them.

Some might lose hope in Avacyn, as she continues to ignore their pleas. Some might lose hope when the church's ward has failed. Some might even lose their faith when they are visited by the inquisition and get accused of being a heretic and being burnt alive. Granted, they lose their life soon after, if not a moment before. One such inquisition is currently led by Cardinal Ximenez.

There is a delay in their travel. The road to the village is in ruined and the next nearest village had been slaughtered by a howlpack two months prior. The night almost comes when they just reach the village instead of the midday as the expected. They are losing light and cardinal Ximenez doesn't like it. They should spend time burning the heretic and torture the answer out of their accomplice instead of traveling. Bah. No matter. The holy work of Avacyn's inquisition is never over and Ximenez will make sure that his men will work even harder to make up for the lost time.

Cardinal Ximenez had brought 100 men with him to a distance village near the edge of Ulvenwald. Considering the size of the village that could hold at most 50 villagers, it might seem to be an overkill. In any other place that might be true, but not in Innistrad. Any men that think like that would either already dead or has yet to be born. Oh. The villagers are scared shitless as they should. They didn't expect the Avacyn's Inquisition. No one has.

No one expects Avacyn's Inquisition, for their chief weapon is fear and surprise and ruthless efficiency … and their fanatical loyalty to Avacyn. Also, they have nice red uniforms.

And by this point, my dear reader, you should also know that this is a Monty Phyton's reference. If not, then you should go watch it immediately.

The village burns as its late inhabitants cry and curse the church. They are innocents with the only crime that is settled near Ulvenwald. They keep telling the men of the church that they are not werewolves nor know anyone that is one. The agents keep yelling at them for the name of a heretic. They don't ask, not in common sense. They just yell profanity and insults the captured villager while beating them.

"How do you plead?" Ximenez heard one of his minions asked. The victim is beaten and scared, good. Heretic deserved nothing less.

"Innocent!" He heard the answer and it brings a smile on his face. Wrong answer! He thinks with glee. These heretics are sure tight-lipped.

"Liar!" Yelled the torturer. He swings a mace and breaks one of the victim's legs. He then proceeds to beat the victim some more

"How do you fucking plead?" The torturer yelled again.

"Innocent!" Once again answered the victim.

What is this inefficiency? Thought Cardinal Ximenez. Surely, his men are useless. They had been at it for hours and they are yet to get any confessions.

"What's going on here?" He asked the torturer. "Why did it take so long?"

The smiling torturer looks paled in an instant. He knows he has underperformed. "Your holiness, I …"

"Silence! You fool. Bring forth the rack!" Yelled Ximenez. He let out a menacing laugh. An action that echoes throughout the village by his minions.

*HOWL*

A bone-chilling cry of a wolf is deafening. Even for men as righteous as Ximenez and his retainers, the howl is terrifying enough to stop them in their tracks. Without them realized, their limbs start to shake as unease creeps at their spines.

*HOWL*It's getting louder and louder. *HOWL*

As if he was mad, cardinal Ximenez laughs. "Alright men. We found the heretics. Kill them all!"

As soon as he ends that sentence, his men slaughter their victim and ready for a fight. "Ready your silver weapons!" He yells. "Tonight, we kill these curs."

*HOWL* This time, the voices are close. Very close. Before anyone could react, a white blur crashes with the guards at the east of the village. One moment five spears were at ready to face whatever comes their way, the next moment they were already dead. Their corpses were mauled and ripped to shred.

*HOWL* Men on the west side panic as they found themselves outnumber five-to-one by a large pack of wolves. If this happened in other planes an equipped force of this size should not be panic, too bad they live on Innistrad. These are not just any wolves, they are Ulvenwald's wolves. They are twice as large and triple as ferocious of their normal kin. The inquisition men hold their spears high, trying to keep the distance between them and the danger as much as possible. However, this is Ulvenwald.

In Innistrad's Ulvenwald, you don't go the face the threat, the threat comes for you.

Wolves lunge themselves at the spear walls without any regards of their lives. Some get impaled by a spear. The others see the opening and rush in and tear the spearmen apart. The line held for only a moment before it turns into a slaughter. Within minutes, the bodies of the fighter are no more, only a mush of wolf's feast.

With his men getting killed left and right, cardinal Ximenez recalls all his available minions back to protect him. They would have strength in numbers and would be able to protect each other. But that also means that they are trapped in the middle of the besieged village.

The men are restless. They, themselves, don't expect the full-scale attack from the beast of Ulvenwald. The wolves have surrounded them. They growl and seek out the weakness in their formation. Then, they see, with their own eyes, the Matriarch of Ulvenwald. A female werewolf with a fur ashen grey that getting darker as it gets toward the ridge and burning bright orange eyes. On her shoulder lies an ornate leather pauldron. Around her neck are necklaces made of wolf claws. She landed right in front of them as the wolves make their way. Just by her glances alone made them want to pray to Avacyn for salvation.

"Stay back! Beast! In the name of Avacyn …" Yelled the cardinal. With his fanatical bravery, he grabs his spear and ready to engage the werewolf in combat. Too bad for him, he doesn't aware of another werewolf above his head.

Another werewolf dropped down right on the cardinal head. This one is smaller but not any less dangerous. Its fur is pale white that getting redder toward the rides and its eyes glowing silvery grey. It jumps down and tackles the cardinal to the ground and claws his face. In seconds, the cardinal has turned into a mush of blood and gore. While the others are still terrified, the white werewolf lashes out on the nearby inquisitor. The werewolf dodges any spears that aim toward its body. What it cannot dodge, it parries with it claws and then proceeds to tear the attacker head off.

With the enemy on both front and rear, the inquisition line collapses soon after. The wolves of Ulvenwald feast well tonight, for there are no survivors to be hunted down.

Jon mind has never been full of rage, at least not this much. The moment he transformed all he could see is red. His mother has warned him about how the wolf spirit is very aggressive and demanding, and it gains even more influence when they are transformed. That couldn't hold a candle to what he is feeling right now. He tries to hold it back, try to force the control. He is successful enough too until the killing begins. When he rips the throat from the leader of red evil man, all seven hell breaks loose. All he could hear is to kill everything that is not of his pack. Kill everyone that had wronged him. Kill and desiccate their corpses for all to see. For the first time since he received the blessing from the wolf spirit, Jon Snow feels … fear. He fears that he will lose himself.

And he wouldn't know how right he was.

Jon's mind turns fussy as he feels the pull of the blind eternity. He doesn't resist for he doesn't conscious enough to resist it anyway.

The last image that he sees is that of his mother in her werewolf form looking as shocked as the beast form let her to. The last thing he feels is rage and then things go blank.

Meanwhile in Winterfell

Septa Mordane had spent her life in Winterfell since the sept had been built after Lady Catelyn Tully married Lord Eddard Stark. When their first daughter, Lady Sansa Stark is born, Mordane is fortunate enough to be selected to be her tutor. With their second daughter, Lady Arya Stark, is old enough, she will join her elder sister in Mordane's class too. The septa thanks the seven every day for giving her his opportunity and she vows to educate the girls well. They would be raised as model followers of the seven. The shining beacon to educate the barbaric heathens of the north that the false gods of old are a lie.

It is late at night. Septa Mordane has just finished her night prayer. The other church fellows are about to retire for the night. They bid her a good night. Even if she isn't the head septon of Winterfell, they all respect her for she has the ear of the lord paramount and teaching his daughters.

*HOWL* they could hear wolf's cry as if it was near. They are in Wintertown, how could there by a wolf?

As if on cue, the wind stops blowing. The night is dead silent, but the tension could not be higher. Everyone in the sept knows how people look at them when they first establish their faith here in Winterfell. Oh, how those heretics see them as if they want to tear their body apart. These faithless curs don't want to hear that their god is a lie. They all remember how these barbarians want to make trouble for them. Well. What can they do now? They have the lord paramount on their side, and soon two of his daughters will steer things the right way.

They have no fear for they know that the seven will protect them.

*Bang* The front entrance bursts open, sending splinters everywhere. All the denizens of the sept rush in to see who dares to intrude their property. Whoever they are, they must be stupid enough to think that they would get away with it.

When the dust settles, their confident faces are replaced with horrors. Out of the darkness, came a large white wolf that stands on two legs. Its eyes are silvery grey and its fur's white and red. If the sight of the beast isn't terrifying enough, the intoxicating smell of fresh blood would do the job. The beast is seeming with so much rage that, to their eyes, it's tearing itself apart. The temperature of the sept plummets drastically. Ice forms on the floor as they have a cold sweat, literally.

"What in the seven hells are you?" yelled one of the acolytes. As if angered by the comments, the beast rushes him with blinding speed and claws his face off. He dies right away.

Seeing that their fellow is dead, mass panic occurs. The beast doesn't hesitate to start attacking others. One moment it was mauling the corpse, in a blink of an eye it bites the head septon's head off. The beast is powerful and acolyte Greg finds out the hard way. He tries to use the fire for the nearby torch to scare the beast away, thinking of it as an animal. The beast effortlessly smacks him with its elongated arm which sent him flying toward the sept's wall. His smashed head now rests inside his own body.

Septa Mordane is terrified but she knows that nothing she could do will help her stay alive from this calamity. She kneels down and prays. She prays to the seven to save her soul. Unfortunately for septa Mordane, she would find no salvation. It seems death is the only thing she would face tonight.

In the last moment of her life, the beast let out a bellowing roar that shakes the entire sept. Mordane makes peace with the seven right then and there. If she going to be mauled to death by a beast, she would do so with dignity.

Not in a hundred lifetimes, she would expect that the wolf beast can also breathe fire.

Entire Wintertown had awoken from the deafening howl. Babies cry. Children hide under their bed. Adults comfort each other in their arms. Some who are either brave or stupid, or both, rushes out from their homes to see what happened. They all heard the wolf cry and the voice seems to come from the town's sept.

They can hear the scream of the septons and septas. They can smell blood in the air. But they do not expect the sept to explode with a roaring flame.

The explosion rocks the entire town and the Winterfell castle nearby. The fire rises so high it could be seen from castle Crewyn. Out of the flame, they see a white wolf as tall as a full-grown man walking on two legs. The monster seems to drag a septa's corpse around. Its silvery grey eyes are full of rage and a promise of terrible death for those who get in its way.

They see it. They all see it and do nothing. No one, not even the bravest, not even the craziest, dares to do anything.

Only when dawn comes, and the monster had left they find something in the ash-covered ground of what used to be a sept. Somehow, all in the midst of slaughter, all in the raging fire, a weirwood tree had grown and the face on the tree is smiling.

Lady Catelyn Stark has been awoken when the Wintertown sept exploded. She had been to sleep happy as tonight since tonight, for the first time since the bastard had been missing, she had joined her lord husband in bed. She knows that both her and Eddard is getting old, but by the seven that was liberating. Everyone calls Eddard the Quiet Wolf, but her husband doesn't stay quiet at all in their previous activity.

How blessed is the Mother, for she keeps the Father satisfied. And in turn, allows the Father to satisfied her.

But then this stupid explosion had to ruin it all.

Winterfell is now a mess. Guards running everywhere, while all the non-combatant personnel stays locked up together in the main hall. Lord Eddard personally lead his men to Wintertown to help calm down the chaos.

"But mother! I can fight." Argued young Robb Stark. "Sir Rodrik has been teaching me for years now. I can help father."

"Hush you. You should remain here where it safe." Catelyn reprimands her oldest son. "Besides, you must be here to protect your siblings."

By her side are her children, all four of them. Her eldest daughter, Eight-years-old Sansa is hugging a five-years-old Brandon to help calm him down. Her youngest daughter, Six-years-old Arya is talking with Robb about how she wants to see what's going on.

Then Catelyn sees a shadow the size of a man crashed through the windows. It is a white beast so terrifying like it was born by the stranger himself. The beast head is that of a wolf, and it is soaked with blood. In its claws are a burnt body of some clergymen but she couldn't make out who. Its eyes are gleaming silver, as cold as death itself, and it's looking straight at her.

Everyone in the room screams and cries. Mass hysteria soon ensues. Everyone tries to run the furthest away from the white monster from the seven hells itself. All but one.

For the first moment in her life, Catelyn Stark found herself unable to move. Be it that she is too frightened, or she was still too sore from the activity with her husband earlier, only she would know.

The white beast spends no time waiting and makes a beeline toward the lady of Winterfell. Any men that tried to get in its way is swatted with the dead body it held in its claws.

Thinking that she is about to die, she remembers the face of sickened Jon Snow, her husband bastard, when she prayed in his room the night he disappeared.

Murderer.

Once again, the word rings in her mind. Then comes another.

You reap what you sow.

"Hyaaaagh!" She heard the firstborn screamed as he hit the beast with a training sword. The beast doesn't register the impact. It growls and turns away to face Robb.

Catylen's blood freeze in her vein as she realized what could happen next.

For ten years Robb Stark has been living, he has never felt so stupid. Who is he to face a monstrous beast when the full-grown man could not? The beast towers over his head and seems strong enough to tear an armored man apart with its claws.

He finds himself looking straight at its eyes. The glowing silver pairs soon fade to grey. The wolf monster's expression shifts as if it regains some sanity. If it has any sanity at all, that is.

Robb closes his eyes and makes peace with the gods both old and new. He waits for the moment of death.

But that moment never came.

He winces as he hears a mournful howl of a wolf coming right in front of him. He opens his eyes to see it clawing its own face and dragging a burnt body away like a ragdoll. The beast looks left and right as if to observe the terror that it caused. Then the unexpectable happens.

It leaves them alone. Leaving a burnt body in front of his lady mother and rushes out of the main hall. In his own stupidity, he follows as fast as he could. Then he finds that his little sister, Arya has done the same. When they make out of the main hall, he can only see its silhouette jumping over the castle wall under the light of the moon. With its path, it seems like it is heading straight the Godswood.

In the next morning, the lord father sent men to search the area but found nothing. His mother is terrified. She murmurs something about how his bastard brother had come back from the grave for revenge on her

If only they knew how right, she was.

Last night was a restless night of Arlinn Kord. Jon had his first transformation and they went out to tame a large pack of wolves to hunt some church's men. Everything went well according to her plan. Sent wolves to attack the flank while she drew their attention, then when the moment was right, had Jon went to cut the head. And then, the unexpected had happened. Something had driven him so mad that he lost control and planeswalked away. He came back unharmed, of course, but not the same. Jon seemed shaken.

As soon as Jon sees her, he transforms back to his human form.

"Jon! Do you have any idea how worried I have been?" She berates him as she hugs him tightly. "Don't you dare do that to your mother ever again!"

Jon, however, doesn't speak anything. He may seal his lips, but his scent never lies. Arlinn notices something wrong had happened right away.

"Little pup. What's wrong?" She strokes his mane gently.

Jon nudges himself even further into her arms. "I almost killed my own brother."

Hearing that, she hugs him even tighter. She kisses his forehead and cradles his hair. "It's okay, little pup. It's okay." She feels his tear on her chest. Her little pup was hurt. But this time she couldn't just go and beat anyone who did it.

Who knows being a mother is hard? clearly not Arlinn Kord.

"You should take a bath, though. You smell like you have been sleeping in a grave."

So, he went back to his birth-plane, wherever that is. It's no big deal to Arlinn though. They are planeswalkers, they are the only type of beings that could leave their past behind. The things that bother her was how he smelled like he jumped straight into a volcano. Even when he took a bath, of which she made sure he was scrubbed with soap and holy water at every orifice, to Jon dismay, his scent still didn't change.

Jon still smelled like fire, smelled like death.

He smelled like a Dragon.

Custom card of the chapter

Card Name: Unexpected Inquisition

Manacost: 2RRR

Types: Creature – Human

Card Text:

Flash, Menace, Protection from White, Hexproof from Blue.

Unexpected Inquisition can't be countered.

Flavor Text: "Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition!"

P/T: 5/3

Rarity: Uncommon