Monster Party Book Seven: There's some things you're never gonna help or change, but hunger is something we can turn around!
Final Chapter: Wake the white wolf at the dawn of war, the end of the age is a commin' now!
The new moon was in ascension over the city of Zhukar. A wind so blew through the city, its gusts so chill that each felt like having ones flesh pierced by countless frozen needles. It assaulted commoner and priest alike as all of the city's remaining faithful gathered around the High Temple of Zhakata.
Burning torches and minor magical barriers against the elements did little to keep out the bone biting cold that was washing across the city. Even Alexander Diamondclaw felt a shiver go up his spine as he finally began to approach the High Altar, one last small group of desperate worshipers in his wake.
He was the last of his companions to the arrive, the other five were already atop the alter alongside Yagno. Joining the High Priest of Zhakata were seven of his lesser holy men, who were busy chanting and swinging smoking censors as they walked around the altar's edges.
Hundreds of people lay on their knees in desperate supplication before the altar, clinging desperately to a god who seemed ever more deaf to their please for salvation. As he began to ascend upwards Alexander could not look away from the high altar, a block of dark gray stone shot through with black veins, sharp-etched runes cut into its sides even as blood-gutters were carved into its top.
Worn leather straps were located at its four corners, fastened to iron stakes driven into the stone. At this distance it was all too obvious that the indeed Malistroi's soul stone had originally been crafted from a piece of this altar.
The cold was spreading with unnatural speed, and already the steps leading up to the top of the alter had become rimmed with frost, making Alexander glad that he could take his time about ascending.
The silver haired man exchanged pained glances with his companions. This, this was not how he had intended things to go when they'd arrived in G'Henna. This was not how he had intended things to go when he'd invited them to join his pack.
The worst part about it was these last few moments of relative peace and quite.
Malistroi saw no reason to rush his plans, he would be patient, he would allow his foes to stew in their own feelings of pathetic impotence. That grandiosity was either a mark of unmatched power or unmatched hubris, and all of Alexander's hopes for surviving to see another sunrise lay upon the later. despite his failure to seriously harm the demon in their prior confrontation.
If they were wrong, then come what may, none of Alexander Diamondclaw's five companions would be slain before he was. He would die in the grandest fashion he could imagine, fashioning a worthy grave from a pile of his slain enemies.
Defiance in the face of unjust tyranny, defiance in the face of those who claimed to be gods, defiance in the face of the impossible and invincible. Defiance. Alexander Diamondclaw was a wolf, he would die on his feet.
Protecting the citizens of Zhukar were scarcely two hundred of the remaining Swords of Zhakata, normal soldiers and guards who possessed the either the inner courage, blind devotion, or outright insanity to stand with weapons drawn against Malistroi's encroaching darkness. Whatever their faults, Alexander expected they'd be fine men to die fighting alongside.
As the wind continued to howl the darkness drew nearer, pressing against the flickering torchlight. This darkness was not simply the absent of light, but rather the a more mystical and far more terrible thing. In its depths it was just possible to make out a seething mass of terrible shapes, each wailing more horribly than the wind ever could. In that darkness pale fangs and talons flashed like tiny strokes of lighting, waiting to burst free and strike.
Alexander turned to his companions.
"If we survive this, you're getting all the money I make out of it." Alexander promised Callan Wright.
The Lamordian alchemist looked up from double checking the series of potions that he was wearing at his belt, ad offered Alexander a wan smile.
"Not dying and large sums of money? Boss you really do know how to motivate a guy!" He half joked before returning to preparing his weapons.
"Devi, I'm sorry that I can't do more to..." He began, but the elf abruptly cut him off.
"When I look out there, do you know what I see waiting? A swift death a the hands of monsters. I've already escaped my fears of a much slower death at the hands of much greater monsters. Why should I be afraid?" She declared with blunt certainty.
Seeing that she needed no more reassurance he turned his attention over to Mirri Catwarrior.
"Having been twisted by Malistroi's demonic powers I'm not sure if those things bleed 'proper' blood. If they do though… there's an entire tidal wave of blood rolling against us. It will either drag us down to suffocate, or we spill it all down to the very last drop. Last time I checked vampires don't suffocate." He insisted calmly.
"Vampires don't suffocate. We may drown in water but I've never heard of anyone crazy enough to try it. It'll be fun to find out what happens won't it Sir?" She insisted, drawing strength from her inner bloodlust.
How could she fear the foe before her if they were as bread to a hungry man?
James Firecat was next.
Alexander crouched to eliminate the difference between their heights as best he could, then gently laid a hand upon James' hat.
"You have a spirit that sparkles and glistens like a well shinned diamond, casting light into even the darkest corners. That includes my own soul, just to be clear." Alexander declared solemnly
A pair of brown eyes began to grow watery, but with tears of silent joy rather than fear or sadness.
Finally Alexander locked his single eye upon Florence Bastien.
"You spent how much of your life trying to make something worthwhile out of a mess like me? Did I ever actually live up to your expectations?" He asked in a forlornly empty tone.
Florence reached out one of her green gloved hands to take Alexander's chin before kissing him on the cheek.
"You surpassed them more frequently than you could possibly imagine." The dryad reassured him.
Alexander leaned in and kissed her back.
"Don't know why I'm surprised at that, you must have set them pretty low given how I used to act." He reflected with a mixture of self derision and amusement.
Having properly prepared each of his companions for the what was yet to come as best he could, Alexander returned his attention to the ritual that was beginning to unfold.
Yagno spread his arms wide, his robes flapping in the freezing winds that scoured the temple's roof.
"Hear me, ye faithful!" He shouted, his voice carrying over the howling winds.
"This is the hour of testing! Zhakata will judge us by how we stand against the dark. Are we not worthy?" He proclaimed to all those gathered before him.
"We are worthy!" The crowd screamed back, though it was hard to tell if the words were meant as a defiant bellow or a frightened plea.
"Then believe, with all your hearts! Pour your faith into me, defender of G'Henna, the chosen champion of Zhakata! Lend me your strength for Zhakata!" The High Priest insisted.
As he spoke the high altar began to grow more brightly, though it retained a sickly gray taint at its center.
As the first of Malistroi's malformed army emerged from the encroaching darkness, powerful beams of bright light erupted from the altar, streamed over its edge, and flowed out towards the horrific monsters, blasting them back into the darkness like streams of gushing water.
Around Yagno's neck Malistroi's soul stone began to glow a sickly green color, and its bearer's face began to contort as if the object was suddenly causing him immense pain. Yet he refused to allow such mundane concerns to interfere with his preaching.
"In our hour of need, Zhakata has provided aid! These outlanders have recovered the very life-essence of our enemy! With it the fiend will be expunged from our land should he dare to stand against me! That is why he only sends his pathetic mindless servants against us, he knows that our suffering for Zhakata had made us strong! Made us stronger than him and his misshapen rabble! The people of Zhukar will endure this storm!" Yagno insisted.
Despite his encouraging words and the show of power from the altar, Malistroi's horde was far from defeated. Another wave of monstrous creatures emerged from the cloud of inky darkness that pressed ever closer around Zhakata's high altar. For every one that a blast of energy pushed back, three more emerged equally ready for battle.
The talisman that Yagno was wearing began to glow with a strange ethereal light.
Even over the howling wind, the snap of leathery wings rang out with piercing volume. A piece of the black night sky itself fell to earth, revealing the grotesquely large shape of Malistroi who now had to be twenty feet tall if he was an inch!
"Fool of a priest! You remember me, I think." The fiend sneered, a terrible grin spreading across his monstrous face.
"You did not defeat me in our first battle monster, you will not defeat me today!" Yagno proclaimed, his voice having grown horse from preaching.
"Face me here if you dare you craven beast, face me as as I stand before the High Altar of Zhakata himself!" Yagno insisted, gripping Malistroi's soul stone tightly in his left hand.
"I will crush you and your pathetic delusions of a deity!" Malistroi roared back and began to flap his wings.
A golden glow surrounded him and his image seemed to flicker for a brief moment. There was a glint of golden light upon Yagno Petrovna's shoulders and a shadowy outline of Malistroi began to coalesce around him.
Then there was a snap like a thunderclap and the hazy outline vanished while the real Malistroi was hurled backwards into the impenetrable darkness.
There was a sound of cracking bricks as he evidently impacted against some unfortunate building, and then a great deal of cursing in some infernal tongue never meant for mortal ears or lips.
"A fobiddence spell? You only delay the inevitable Yagno. I will have you and all of G'Henna before the sun rises!" The demon insisted as her clambered back into the light, seemingly no worse for wear from his tumble.
He waved his hands, his tide of misshapen minions charged forward with Malistroi only a few paces behind them.
All those who had been brave enough to take up a weapon, be it out of loyalty to Zhakata or simply to their friends, family, or homeland braced themselves.
They fought with the desperate courage of men who had nowhere left to run, and a cause they were utterly willing to die for.
They fought with weapons that had been blessed by Yagno and his fellow priests before the battle, and so were able to take a terrible toll upon their attackers.
But it was a toll that Malistroi's servants were willing to pay. The monsters fought without ay hint of strategy or discipline, simply a huge mob of monsters charging forward, each one attacking as best its bizarre body would allow.
Slowly like cracks starting to form in a dam, monsters began to break through the Yagno's defenders. These beasts could have easily butchered the faithful of Zhakata who lacked the will or weapons to fight, but for the moment they thankfully seemed to have no desire for slaughter. Instead, much like their master, they desired only to do battle with Yagno Petrovna. Only when the death of Zhakata's High Priest mattered to them, for with his death who would dare to stand against Malistroi?
The mighty deamon's wings flapped again and he easily soared over the heads of all who stood between him and Yagno Petrovna. Defenders armed with crossbows fired, but their bolts seemed to find no purchase upon the deamon's infernal body, and even a round from Phoenix failed to noticeably harm Malistroi. He landed upon the temple's roof with an impact that shook the entire building, now less than an arm's reach (well less than one of his arm's reach) away from Yagno.
"Where is Zhakata now?" The demon growled as it spread wide its wings, casting Yagno Petrovna completely in darkness.
"Zhakata is with me!" The priest answered back defiantly.
He raised his hands as mystical energy churned throughout his entire body.
A wave of Malistroi's twisted creations began to clamber up the steps of the temple, eager to join their master in this final assault.
Callan Wright cast down bottles that smashed themselves upon the temple's stones and spread their insidious contents.
As horrific as Malistroi's creations were, they were still creatures of flesh and bone, and so vulnerable to all the minor maladies of such physical beings.
In this case, as their (frequently clawed) feet tread upon puddles of the alchemist's super slippery solution, they lost their balance and tumbled back down to the ground.
It almost would have been comical, if it didn't seem that were enough of the monsters to successfully build a ladder up to the high altar simply by climbing upon one another's backs.
Nor did all of Malistroi's servants travel on foot alone. Some of them had been remade with horrendous wings with which they could fly over such mundane difficulties as potions of grease.
Mirri and James met them in midair, the vampire leaping high into the night sky, before hurling the werecat in his most feline form towards another of the monsters.
Creatures of base instinct, the winged monster paid little attention to a cat (even a large cat) sized bundle of flesh and bone, simply raising up a hand to bat it away.
By the time that James was in reach however, he'd transformed to his hybrid form, and with near impossible adroitness manage to twist himself around in midair avoiding the blow, then wrapped his legs around the monster's outstretched arm.
Then he was upon the beast at close quarters, fighting as housecats always fought, with flashing fang and tearing claw, a whirlwind of needle sharp blades striking here, there, and everywhere.
He tore and scratched and bit and kicked at the monster, determined to kill it, even if he could only do so one piece at a time.
Another was snagged by Devi's flail, dragged from the air and smashed against the temple roof. The magic imbued into of the elf's weapon added extra mass behind the impact, crushing all life from the beast.
Florence Bastien raised her hands as she silently mouthed her own prayers to a force far more benign and far more receptive than Zhakata. Her fingers lengthened outwards into twisting vines that shot upwards to entangle still more of the flying creatures.
As for Alexander Diamondclaw himself, he was waiting for the moment when his contribution would matter most.
Having managed to conclude his self important declarations, Malistroi raised up an arm and a golden glow began to surround his body.
That was when Alexander slammed into the demon from behind, causing the beams of energy which left his hands a moment later to fly wildly of course into the darkening sky.
Yagno Petrovna's own mystical counter attack went unimpeded as bright white light leaped from the high altar to his hands, and then blasted itself into Malistroi's chest. The demon was thrown back a few paces, sections of its skin starting to smolder, somehow smelling yet more fowl than ever before.
"Together outlander!" Cried Yagno Petrovna decisively.
"Together, you crazy bastard…." Alexander muttered under his breath, then he drew Wolf Claw, attacked the monster from behind, trying to sever one of Malistroi's wings and keep him from flying away.
Alas the demon still possessed fearsome strength and speed, the wing Alexander targeted twisted at unnatural angles, extending itself outward straight into the silver haired man's stomach. Alexander was knocked clean off his seat and sent sailing across the temple roof.
Then as if knowing which of its two foes would be the easier to dispose of (or perhaps simply desiring to dispense with ancient grudges first before settling new ones) Malistroi focused himself completely upon Yagno Petrovna. He crawled across the roof of Zhakata's temple and with one tremendous hand managed to seize the aged priest.
"You can not kill me while I hold your soul stone!" Declared Yagno, one hand tightly clutching the glowing gem while the other prepared to summon yet more mystical energy.
"Then you will hold nothing." Decreed Malistroi before he struck.
He did it contemptuously, lashing out with only what would have been the pinky finger on a human hand. It was still more than enough, the wicked talon at the digit's end sliced cleanly through Yagno's left hand and the string he wore around his neck, yet somehow avoided ripping through his jugular in the process.
The priest's amputated appendage went flying to land with an ugly "SPLAT" against the high altar of Zhakata, and whatever magic Yagno had been about to channel died then and there, replaced by a scream of anguished pain.
Malistroi rose to his full height, the now one handed priest his helpless prisoner.
"There is no Zhakata! There is only I, Malistroi devourer of souls, and no false god shall deliver you from my grasp! Now, for daring to believe you could be my equal, your entire flock will observe as I grind your pathetic body into dust!" The demon declared triumphantly.
Alexander could have rushed to Yagno's help, tried to distract Malistroi, or injure his arms long enough or Yagno to slip free, but in his heart of hearts the silver haired man knew that it wouldn't make a difference.
Something more powerful than one aged priest of a half mad god would be needed to defeat Malistroi.
/This is my fight.\ His inner Wolf insisted.
/Not even you're strong enough.\ Alexander countered.
/Hah, and hah again! You still have no idea just how strong I am!\ Alexander Diamondclaw's inner Wolf insisted.
As he looked out upon the hopeless scene before him, he saw he golden glow, and saw a sparkle of light so bright that it had no color at all worthy of the name.
Saw how Zhakata's altar continued to radiate power, and so did a small bundle against the side of it.
Luckily Malistroi seemed to be in the mood to take his time crushing the life from Zhakata's High Priest, giving Alexander time to race over to altar.
He pried apart the clenched fingers of Yagno Petrovna's severed hand and took what they held for his own once again.
"Only the most clever will succeed by seizing the power of change for their own, however briefly it is theirs to command..." Alexander repeated the words that Marda had told him during her Tarokka reading.
If ever there was time to hope that the words of an elderly Vistana had been more than vague mysticism, now was exactly that time.
Looking down at the high altar of Zhakata, Alexander could see that the stone was imperfect, a section of it near the very center had been chipped away.
Chipped away in order to serve as Malistroi's soul stone, the gem he now held tightly in one hand.
The high altar radiated all the power that the remaining people of Zhukar had been able to gather through their faith, the soul stone still hummed with Malistroi's malign energy.
The high altar and the souls stone had been one single object once.
What if they were reunited?
Gazing down he noticed one particular part of the altar seemed to be glowing especially brightly, and Alexander placed the necklace firmly upon it, pressing a hand tightly against the altar.
Instantly energy began to flow into Alexander Diamondclaw, it was a tiny trickle at first, but with every passing moment the amount of pure raw power that surged into him began to increase.
/Yes, yes, yes, yes, give it to me!\ Alexander's inner Wolf cried with joy.
The power was too much for Alexander to control, too much for his body to contain.
His skin began to rupture, cracking like poorly made pottery, but instead of blood pouring out from those openings, silver light emerged. Alexander bent over double and silver light shot out of his ears as the world went utterly silent for him. Twin beams of silver light blasted forth from his eyes, smashing aside the black eye-patch that had been keeping his right eye hidden.
He turned his head toward the new moon hanging in the sky and tried to howl, but all that came out was more and more silver light.
The silver light was eating him alive from the inside out.
How many times before this had the Wolf broken his body so that it could be remade in his image?
Today, fueled by this immense power, now the Wolf planned to destroy him utterly so that it could be fully reborn.
/Make…. Make it count…. Protect them….\ Alexander pleaded with the Wolf.
His body shattered.
XXX XXX XXX
There was an explosion of silver light so great that it knocked Malistroi to the ground allowing an only slightly less stunned Yagno to crawl free, blood dripping from several rents in his vestments.
As the light abated there was now a second gigantic figure upon the top of the temple. It was a tremendous wolf, a monster larger than not just any man, but many small buildings! Too look closely upon the wolf was to have your eyes reel in discomfort, the mortal mind simply could not comprehend how even the mighty temple's roof had room for such a beast.
Instantly the remaining occupants of the city who had been watching the battle between their High Priest and the demon in hushed silence began to babble excitedly.
"Is that?"
"It must be Zhakata!"
"DON'T SAY THAT! WHAT IF IT ISN'T? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE INQUISITION WOULD DO TO YOU?"
"Look I'm just saying Zhakata is supposed to be a great beast, clearly he has come before us in the aspect of the devourer!"
"What do you mean 'aspect' everyone knows Zhakata is only a devourer!"
"Stone him, he thinks that monster is Zhakata!"
"Look nobody is going to stone anybody until I say so, even if they do think that thing is ZhakatAAAAA!" This comment terminated abruptly as a mass of believers fell upon the poor lone inquisitor who had tried to instil some order, evidently feeling that he was being insufficiently pious.
Countless other theological debates were breaking out in between people as others simply fell to their knees and chanting "Zhakata! Zhakata!" over and over again in fearful supplication.
"Oh don't grovel! If there's one thing I can't stand it's people groveling." The wolf announced, its voice richly refined and utterly at odds with its savage appearance.
"Who disrupts my ascension?" Hissed Malistroi as he regained his senses and turned to face the wolf, all thoughts or worries concerning Yagno gone.
"Ascension Malistroi? This is bad comedy." The wolf replied, somehow managing to convey human condescension with only a lupine face (even if it was a very, very, VERY large one) to work with.
"Let us see how bravely you can stand when assaulted by your own worst fears!" Malistroi bellowed, and raised his hands.
Beams of rainbow light shot force from his palms, and washed across the huge wolf.
The wolf's body convulsed for a moment, and then it slammed a massive paw against the temple roof, before shaking itself back and forth. The strange coloration went flying in every direction as if the wolf was shaking off rain, the bizarre colors vanishing before they could strike anything else.
"Fear? While I am free, I fear NOTHING!
Just who the hell do you think I am? I am the monster of the river Ván! I am the famous wolf! I am the one who broke Leyding with a single shake of my head! I am the one who shattered Dromi! I AM THE ONE WHO IS NOT JUST CAPABLE, BUT FORETOLD TO DO THE IMPOSSIBLE! YOU WISH TO TALK TO ME OF FEAR? MY HOWL HORRIFIES THE GODS THEMSELVES!" The wolf boasted.
It then took in a breath so deep that a few people ended up being temporarily lifted up off the ground by the sheer suction force of his lungs, though luckily none of them were actually drawn into the wolf's mouth.
Then the wolf howled.
It was as if the world was ending.
First people's ears began to bleed, then their noses shortly followed suit, and a few even simply passed out.
The sheer force behind that sound combined with the onrush of air knocked Malistroi's feet out from under him and sent him crashing into a (hopefully deserted) house.
"You… you… you hurt me…." The demon gasped as indeed it seemed the impact had bent one of its mighty wings at entirely the wrong angle.
It could no longer unfurl properly, or even simply fold itself against the deamon's body.
"That's rather the point of fighting. Now get up and attack me! I've only broken a handful of your bones so far! Bring forth an army of your servants, blast me with foul magics, show me your true power! The evening is still so young…. Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry!" The wolf screamed at the demon.
In response Malistroi produced a bola and tossed it into the air, somehow the object managed to keep spinning and change directions several times over as if had a will of its own. That did it no good however as the wolf managed to knock it aside with a single paw swipe before closing on his downed foe.
Jaws like a castle portcullis slammed shut over the demon's chest, crushing bone and ripping away huge chunks of flesh.
"I can't… I can't heal." The winged demon gasped, its once powerful voice now a horrified whimper.
"My teeth and claws inflict wounds that not even the gods can undo!" The wolf proclaimed before picking the demon up in its teeth like a regular sized wolf might a rat.
It shook its head back and forth, its teeth inflicting even more grievous injury upon Malistroi's body, before tossing him into the side of yet another unfortunate building which was promptly smashed to ruin.
The wolf pursued his foe with a terrible determination, and before the demon could even try to stand up again the beast slammed into Malistroi, several tons of shining silver fur and bulging muscle. He didn't even bother to try and bring his gigantic jaws into the equation this time, he simply used his sheer bulk as a fury battering ram.
With one final paw swipe the wolf crushed Malistroi to death, the daemon's head popping free as the rest of his body was reduced to an unpleasantly colored stain upon ground.
"Another foe falls before my peerless might! Bask in my glorious majesty! Are there any other fools who dare challenge me?" The wolf called out.
In response a stone gargoyle that had been purely decorative only moments ago suddenly broke free from the roof and began to fly towards the huge wolf buzzing about it like a fly.
"Zhakata!" The gargoyle called out to the wolf.
"Oh, it is you again." The wolf noted more in irritation than anger, before casually releasing a "chuff" in the gargoyle's direction.
The blast of air which came from the wolf's nostrils somehow managed to erode the statue to dust in the blink of an eye, achieving in seconds what normal winds could do in over the course of countless years. As the gargoyle turned to dust a spectral was left behind dancing mockingly before the wolf.
"Zhakata!" The spectral form squeaked before giggling to itself.
The wolf just shook its head as if to ward off flees, and then exhaled a gentle gust, through its mouth. In the cold night air the wolf's breath was visible as a small white cloud, until it suddenly broke apart into a dozen ethereal wolves. They fell upon the spectral form and rent it limb from limb.
That minor irritant done away with, the wolf casually strode back to where it had originally appeared, and finally returned its attention to the mortals gathered before it.
"There. Now that all the distractions have been dealt with, the time has come to clarify a few matters. YAGNO COME OUT!" It decreed.
Up until those words the wolf's voice had carried itself to every ear in Zhukar no matter how far away, and yet it arrived in a tone no louder than an ordinary conversation.
Now the wolf truly raised its voice… and the affect made one wonder if it couldn't have shaken the entire temple to pieces without even needing to lift a paw.
The High Priest of Zhakata emerged from behind a small pile of rubble he had fled to after escaping the demon's grip and faced down the gigantic wolf.
The wolf spat on him.
His saliva washed across Yagno's body and the priest's flesh mended, and his missing hand regrew whole and healthy. The wolf's saliva flowed across the temple like a river, and dampened the bodies of the soldiers who had fought to defend the temple. All who were touched by it found their injuries mended, no matter how grievous they had been.
The magical substance even spread across the bodies of those who Malistroi had transformed into hideous monsters, all of whom had simply stood around in silent shock after their master's defeat. As the saliva engulfed them, it washed away the demon's taint, and though it left mongrelmen behind, and even a mongrelman was a more welcome sight than the creatures Malistroi had made!
That miracle accomplished, the wolf decided to get down to business.
"Do you know my name?" The wolf asked, its golden eyes skewering the fanatic where he stood.
"Zhakata...?" The darklord answered his voice a piteous gasp.
The wolf did not break into a rage and devour Yagno, nor did he slay him in some other gory fashion. Instead, it simply tilted its head slightly, looking more pitying than offended.
"You have chosen to depict Zhakata many different ways, but I as I must clearly remind you, they were all bipedal blends of man and beast. So now I am forced to ask you Yagno Petrovna, are you lying to me, or are you lying to yourself? Because either way, you are lying..." It announced disaprovingly.
There was only silence for a response until the wolf chose to speak again.
"My name is Fenrir, I am a god of wolves, a god of the hunt, a god of bloodshed, even at times a god of slaughter, but I am not a god of sadism! So with that in mind, let me make one thing crystal clear to you Yagno.
Those irrational wishes that draw you to your creed, those emotions you worship, on whose altar you burn the food that could feed an entire nation, that dark, incoherent passion within you, which you take as the voice of Zhakata, is nothing more than the corpse of your mind." Fenrir declared, his words alone almost seeming enough to crush the priest as thoroughly as his paws had the demon.
Yagno gazed into Fenrir's eyes, each of which seemed to be bigger around than the priest was tall.
"But... I have never heard the voice of Zhakata... not once..." Yagno whimpered.
The temple roof was suddenly filled with the sound of anti-silence. Normal silence is relaxing, and allows one to think clearly, anti-silence weighs as heavily upon the ears as loud noises, it makes one wish for something... anything... to break the oppressive sense of stillness.
"Not much of a high priest then are you?" Fenrir noted dismissively.
Yagno turned his eyes away, no longer able to bear up under the lupine's pitiless examination.
"On the other paw, I suppose one might argue that Zhakata isn't much of a god." Fenrir suggested, clearly feeling that Yagno had not quite suffered enough yet.
Sure enough, the High Priest looked like he had just been punched in the gut and then had a few burly men stomp his groin into the pavement. He was hunched over, his face pale as death, breath coming only in awkward wheezes.
"I exist Yagno. The people of G'Henna exist. Enough food to feed them exists!" As Fenrir spoke one of his great paws came down, not on the high priest himself but instead upon the high altar to Zhakata, smashing it to dust and ruble.
"As I mentioned before, I am a god of the hunt, so few things displease me more than seeing effort and success put towards gathering food cruelly rendered moot. I of course prefer the effort involved in tracking down prey, but I am a great enough god to have at least some warmth in my heart for those who exert the effort to grow grain or fruits. After all, if it were not for them, how would I be able to sample Aegir's fine creations?
Now tell me Yagno, which do you think is stronger, Zhakata's ephemeral protection, or my firm right paw?" The gigantic wolf lifted the same paw that had destroyed Zhakata's altar above the High Priest's head, its size great enough to cast Yagno's entire body in shadow.
Yagno Petrovna's fell to his knees, either out of reverence or because his legs could no longer stand the strain of supporting him any longer.
"Your paw..." He gasped like a drowning man sucking in a mouth full of water as he realizes he will never reach the surface, never be able to breath air again.
The paw in question withdrew.
"Very good. Now, is there anyone present who would doubt my divinity or my superiority to Zhakata? If so, please step forward..." Every one of the worshipers gathered at the temple pointedly stepped, wriggled, or otherwise retreated backwards quite shamelessly.
"I thought not. I suppose by this point some of you may be wondering why Zhakata did not try to rescue you in your hour of need. The answer is rather simple... I ate him." Anti-silence came back with a vengeance, and Fenrir took a moment to belch theatrically.
"Don't be so surprised, as I told his high priest, Zhakata wasn't much of a god. I on the other hand am a magnificent specimen of godhood, a truly divine example of divinity if you will pardon me for saying so. When all is said and done it... amuses me to take over some of Zhakata's duties. After all, if there are no rams or ewes left then it must falls upon wolves to sheppard the lambs less they starve in the future.
Speaking of sheep and the future, I suppose we should discuss the subject of how you all will be venerating me as your new god.
Let every kitchen have a statue of my glorious form in it. All meat that you come upon must be placed before my holy icon and cooked." The wolf insisted.
Fenrir's head swept back and forth scanning the crowd. Throughout the faces of every layperson present the divine lupine saw only two distinct expression, horror or sullen acceptance.
"In this manner, the rising smoke will carry the spirit, the essence, the truest nature if you will, of the meat upwards and be given unto me. You may then do with the meat's earthly shell whatever you wish." Fenrir paused again.
Once more there were only two expression gazing back at him from among the people of G'Henna, rapturous (almost orgasmic) delight, and the sort of stupefied stunned shock a man might wear if he was walking down the street, tripped, and fell into an unattended pile of platinum coins.
"Also you will mark tomorrow, the first day of your new god's reign, as a day to celebrate with feasting, merriment and moderate amounts of drunkenness. No bell ringing however! In fact, ringing bells before noon… make that ringing of bells for any spiritual reason is an abomination to me! It… it frightens away my prey!
So, from when the sun rises tomorrow to when it sets, let hunger be heresy, let starvation be sin, let fasting be forbidden, I have hunted, I have slain, I have devoured Zhakata the Devourer, and every one of my new subjects shall join in the feast!" Fenrir decreed, and the crowd below him now looked rapturously ready to simply fall over and depart for whatever afterlife he cared to offer them.
Joviality fled from the wolf's countenance as he turned to face a collection of men in red and orange who had been clustering around Yagno when his grand sermon had begun.
"Before such happy events can take place though, I do believe it would be best to clarify a few additional aspects of my doctrine. I am the Alpha Wolf and the Omega Wolf, and in my duties as the Alpha, I, and I alone, shall punish those who earn my ire.
If those betas who serve under me would seek enforce punishments or restrictions upon their packmates in my name, it is you, not they, who will truly feel my wrath. From what I understand of the things Zhakata was babbling about as I was consuming him, he was rather fond of something called an 'inquisition' correct? If I I am speaking to some members of such a group now, please bend bend over backwards and kick your own asses out my new temple.
You are one and all universally fired. If you have a problem with this idea I will be happy to see to it that you are fried instead.
As for you Yagno Petrovna..." Fenrir paused and gave a chortle of disdain.
"As the greatest servant of Zhakata you are in turn the greatest prize of my recent hunt. You have two choices, you may serve me faithfully, or join your master in my gullet." Fenrir declared, promptly draining whatever color had managed to work its way back into Yagno's features.
"It has, it has always been my greatest pleasure to live in the service of a god who has proved his worth by the protection he grants his followers." Yagno Petrovna insisted, abasing himself before Fenrir.
"You... you have… you have protected me... you have protected this city, you have protected all of G'Henna from the daemon Malistroi. I will serve you." He offered readily after a few false starts.
"Good. You shall be my alpha for all of G'Henna then, and as an alpha it shall be your task to do everything in your power to protect your packmates from danger. Every single one of them is to be protected, down to the lowliest omega, be it from the blades of invaders, or the inner pains of hunger.
Know this Yagno, A god as great as I does not bother with directly talking to his individual servants. I do it now only because the situation was so dire that I had no choice but to manifest myself. Once I depart, neither you, or any of my betas will be privileged to hear me speak again.
Though let one and all be warned, though my voice will be silent, if you earn my displeasure, you will know it instead through my teeth!
I am not long for this place, being on the mortal plane for so long is rather exhausting for a god, even one of my stature. Fear not, as I depart I will render unto you the human who is my Alpha for all the world. Some of you may know him as Alexander Diamondclaw. He shall be my voice. Unto him AND HIM ALONE for reasons I SHALL NOT NEED TO CLARIFY TO PITIFUL MORTALS SUCH AS YOURSELVES do I render the glory and the burden as acting as my fangs when I am not present.
Should any assume they as well might hold this sacred state... he will correct their error. In a show of your deference to me, you shall see to it that Alexander is given the finest of accommodations paid for out of my new temple's treasury. In fact, unto Alexander Diamondclaw, a very tall man with hair as silver as my fur, dressed in black pants, having a green left eye and an eye patch over his right, and who owns a very long sword...
I'm sorry to get bogged down in such minutia but in times like these it would not do at all for my pack to be lead astray by a false alpha and so I will leave no doubts in your hearts or minds of Alexander's nature and appearance.
Now then, where was I... ah yes, unto Alexander Diamondclaw, you will give all the mortal possessions of Zhakata. For just as I have won his spiritual domain by right of conquest so shall Alexander inherit that which belonged to him in this world. Now I must go, but let none present here today forget my unmatched strength!" Fenrir leaned back his neck and let loose with a howl that was loud enough insure the city's glass makers would have plenty of work in the days to come before vanishing in a flash of silver light as blinding as the one which had heralded his arrival.
Just as people were starting to regain their vision a voice called out to them, in a voice that while less awe inspiring and overwhelming than that of Fenrir still managed to capture the attention of all who have heard it.
"I am Alexander Diamondclaw, the Fang of Fenrir!" Declared a very tall man with hair as silver as Fenrir's fur, dressed in a black pants, who had one green left eye and an eye patch over his right and of course, owned a very long sword.
End Chapter
AN: First of all, if you didn't see this particular twist coming, don't blame me, I laid plenty of (well at least some) hints pointing toward it. Lets put aside the ones that were actually in this book since I'll discuss them during the book wrap up after the epilogue and instead focus on the even earlier ones.
Back in the very first book what did Alex say right after he broke free of Markov's restraints?
"You skimped on the avian saliva didn't you, I can tell..."
You know what's another word/phrase for avian saliva?
Bird spittle.
You know what bird spittle is? One of the six key (the other five being: the sound of a cat's footfall, the beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, and the breath of a fish) ingredients of Gleipnir, the magical dwarf ribbon that binds Fenrir.
Or hey, have you noticed how whenever Alex takes off his eye patch/shifts it to cover his left eye, he's immune to magic (if you need an example look at how he suddenly regains use of his legs in chapter 11 of book 4)? Remember how in book four he also talked about how magical artifacts closely enough associated with a god were immune to magic that didn't relate to that particular god? Suddenly it is pretty obvious how he knew that rather esoteric fact isn't it?
You know that look we got inside Alex's head in Book Six when Gwydion tried to control him? How there was a wolf whose upper jaw touches the clouds while his bottom rests on the ground? Guess what famous mythological wolf that describes.
Also remember how since book five Alex has been using the title of Mac Tíre Cáiliúil? You know what that is roughly equivalent to if you swap around the languages? Hróðvitnir, or Fame-Wolf one of Fenrir's many titles, based around the fact that he is, unquestionably the most famous wolf in his mythology.
Or maybe you've been wondering how Alex is able to speak perfectly understandably in his hybrid or animal form unlike James, or any other lycanthrope? It's because he able to speak in a "proto-language" of "supernatural" the divine original language from which all mortal languages are derrived. Yes that sounds like a silly/impossible concept, but its an estalbished facet of D&D lore and Alexander's connection to Fenrir lets him speak it.
Just to be clear, yes that is/was Fenrir. It was and has always been Fenrir in a much more concrete way than what James was dealing with back in Book 4 was Maahes. The Dark Powers have very clear rules about how gods aren't able to interfere with matters on Ravenloft… but Fenrir isn't actually a god, he's just a wolf.
A wolf that is big enough that he could crush the Tarrasque beneath his paws (or at least defeat it in one on one combat fairly easily), but still definitely a wolf and not a god. Nobody ever gets magical powers because they prayed to Fenrir after all. At "best", he's half god on his father's side, and that's a very sketchy sort of godhood by association when you get right down to it, since Loki was one of the great trolls rather than an Æsir himself (though D&D does give you magical powers if you pray to Loki).
Also, there is an entirely reasonable background for this sort of thing happening in Ravenloft, or at least all the individual pieces of it.
Piece one is that we're dealing with a "real life" god (well being of immense power since I just pointed out that Fenrir isn't really a god) from human mythology. Such things are sprinkled throughout Ravenloft, in particular Kali in Sri Raj and Ra in Har'Akir. I will admit there are no established places in Ravenloft that pay homage to Norse mythology, but they (the gods) of Norse mythology are actually one of the main pantheons covered by the D&D 3.5 Deities and Demigod's book. In short, crossing over Norse mythology and D&D is something that is no way unprecedented.
So lets talk about Alex's powers and how and why he's able to do what he's able to do. Once again this is firmly related to stuff already established in Ravenloft, at least have made an appearance in Ravenloft.
Once upon a time in Ravenloft there was a Darklord named Vecna who was a lich. You may be familiar with the fact that he lost his right hand and one of his eyes, and they will give some magical powers to anyone who was willing to chop off their own hand/dig out their own eye to put in Vecna's as a replacement.
Vecna eventually escaped from Ravenloft by becoming a god, and in the process of becoming a god his original body was left behind, sort of like caterpillar leaving a chrysalis once it has become a butterfly. Because he was a god now though, his original body still held traces of godlike power, and now every single bit of his body had become a magical artifact.
For example, if you tore out your incisors and replaced them with Vecna's, you would gain the ability to turn yourself into a vampire for two eight hour periods every month. So that is the sort of power you can get if you replace part of a mortal body with the remains of a body of what eventually became a god.
Alexander Diamondclaw is what you get if you replace parts of a normal body with pieces of what is actively immortal flesh. In this case, in the Monster Party version of the story Fenrir lost his right eye after being chained up (Odin had his ravens dig it out while mockingly commenting that he lost an eye to gain wisdom while Fenrir will loose one due to his lack of it, Odin can be a jerk like that), and said eye eventually wound up in Alexander's head through a complicated series of events that I promise I will explore in more detail later.
To sum up, yes, Alex literally has the eye of a creature that could frighten gods.
If you run enough raw power (and the adventure as written involves a character being capable of temporarily stealing Yagno Petrovna's powers!) through that particular divine organ, the results are… impressive to say the least.
Also, remember how back in chapter four I depicted that small shrine/temple to the wolf? Remember how it was fighting a "soldier" with one eye? You guys probably all that was the wolf fighting Alex in some sort of symbolic battle for control of his mind/body didn't you?
Well, I'll be blunt and admit that I pulled some authorial misdirection… because if I described the "soldier" in more detail, I would have had to point out how he had a beard, something Alex has never had. Because that wasn't a picture of Alex's internalized struggle with the wolf within him, that was a picture of Fenrir fighting/killing/eating Odin.
Oh, and if you noticed that Fenrir's approach to how he should be venerated/worshiped through food cooking is more or less the exact same one used by Offler the Crocodile god of Discworld, well its clearly a very effective system for divine worship!
Going to do something interesting/different now and rather than post the Epilogue, I'm first going to post the "Side Story" chapter that goes with story, you'll better understand why once it is posted.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope the reveal was worth the long delay!
