Disclaimer: I don't own Don't Starve or any of the characters
His body ached. Each limb burned relentlessly from the exertion of putting his plan into place, but rest was the furthest thing from Wolfgang's mind. No less than twenty minutes ago, the drums had started down in the pig village. He didn't have to be a fancy scientist to know what those meant. So, with the mounting urgency giving him the extra bit of energy he needed, he'd finished up his secret weapon and situated himself out of sight on the hill. Taking his enemy by surprise would help to ensure they didn't suspect the true threat until it was too late.
Gripping his hammer tightly, the strongman peered out from his hiding place amidst the trees. From this distance he could just barely make out the sinister spectacle. Around the main bonfire, several smaller piles of kindling had been stacked up. They weren't nearly as impressive as the massive blaze but they were far more practical when it came to actual cooking.
As Wolfgang watched, the cages holding his friends were dragged forward. The one containing Wilson was opened and two massive pig-warriors forcibly pulled him forwards. It was too far away to hear, but it looked as though Wendy and Willow were shouting something. Their actions earned their cages a couple swift kicks and glares from their captors.
Anger burned hot in Wolfgang's heart as the scientist was thrown bodily into the dirt. His hands and legs were tied around a waiting spit by a couple of the more dexterous pigs. They had to use their mouths to compensate for their lack of opposable digits.
Once he was secured, they hoisted their captive up and set him on a waiting rack positioned above one of the smaller, unlit fires. Another pig, carrying a torch in its mouth, looked to ensure that it didn't stay unlit for very long.
Wolfgang's breathing picked up as he recognized that it was now or never. Fear still clung to him like a leech, but for the first time he was able to push past it. Fear wouldn't stop him. Nothing would.
He burst from his hiding spot, racing down the side of the hill as fast as his legs could carry him.
The pig made its way over to Wilson's fire, carefully balancing its torch.
Wolfgang's momentum carried him forward so fast that it was everything he could do to stop from falling and tumbling the rest of the way down.
It arrived, placing the bundle of shouldering plant matter between its two hooves.
Soreness and fatigue ceased to plague him as the adrenaline raced through his system. There would be no turning back, and he had no room for weakness.
The drums stopped. The torch was raised. The pigs all ceased their activities to watch as the ceremony commenced.
The strongman exploded into the edge of the camp, sending up a shower of branches and debris as he smashed through the ferns in his way.
"PIIIIIIIIIIIGS!"
His voice boomed through the silence, drawing a hundred pairs of eyes to his location. Brandishing his hammer like the legendary Excalibur, he proclaimed his challenge.
"Your mother is swine!"
A few of the creatures looked at each other with questioning glances and a couple shrugs, but most simply appeared confused. Realizing that his insult was more stating a fact than anything, Wolfgang thought quickly.
"And is smell like rotted fish!"
That got their attention. Confusion turned to outrage as a chorus of indignant squeals filled the air. The pigs charged forward as one, intent on making this foolish human pay for daring to question the integrity of their heritage.
Wolfgang was off like a rocket, dashing back up the way he had come. It was much more difficult to run uphill but the thought of what would become of him should he get caught motivated his legs to drive him forwards. Behind him, many of the pig-warriors were closing in on his position thanks to the benefit of running on more than two limbs.
The strongman couldn't help but smile in grim determination.
One of the most important things he'd learned during his circus career was that balance is every bit as important as strength. There was more to lifting a dumbbell than just packing on muscles. If you couldn't keep the weight even, they would come crashing down causing major harm. It was for that reason that he knew just how to deal with the ravenous hoard behind him.
Panting from exertion, Wolfgang spotted his target up ahead. A large fallen tree had been carefully positioned flat against a smaller, standing pine. It had been laid out so that it was delicately balanced with both ends jutting out to each side.
He put on an extra burst of speed, aiming himself just right of the upright tree. Knowing full well that his hunters were closing in rapidly, He lowered his shoulder and braced for impact.
Wolfgang hit the fallen tree with bone-jarring force. The collision sent a massive wave of pain up his shoulder and throughout his body, but it didn't give him pause. He quickly recovered and began climbing up the standing tree as fast as he physically could.
The fastest of the pigs let out cries of triumph as they saw their quarry fleeing up the tree. He was trapping himself with no hope of escape. His rash decision had left him utterly helpless before them.
That was when they heard the cracking.
The noise of splintering wood filled the air as the formerly small fracture in the fallen tree grew in size. Wolfgang's impact had ruptured the old wood and set in motion a chain of events that nobody could hope to stop now.
The pigs slowed their charge sensing that something was terribly wrong. The log began to buckle inwards, looking almost like a slowly closing bear trap whose mouth was pointed directly downhill. Their primitive minds took precious moments to realize that it could only be doing that if there was some great force pushing it downward on the other side.
The tree snapped, breaking inwards like a massive wooden floodgate. This floodgate however wasn't holding back water…
The forest was suddenly filled with countless terrified shrieks as the pigs realized they'd been tricked. They frantically struggled to slow down and turn the other direction as they saw a miniature tidal wave of boulders bearing down on their position.
Wolfgang had been very busy. Earlier that day, he'd located a small quarry on the other side of the hill and had spent many hours hoisting those massive rocks up to the peak. A task that would have otherwise been impossible for a single man had taken him roughly eight hours of nonstop toil. He pushed through hunger, fatigue, and the strain of his own body with the kind of tunneled determination that only a select few could ever hope to experience. Once they'd been repositioned, he'd found the remains of an old tree and used it as a blockade to hold his trap as he moved them to the slope of the hill. He'd put more and more behind the old log until it could barely hold them. After that, all he had to do was destabilize the setup and he'd have his own manmade avalanche.
Which happened to be hurtling down the hill towards an army of pig-soldiers.
The front half of the pig tribe did the only thing they could think to do and began sprinting back down the hill and away from the falling rocks. This had the tragic side effect of causing them to run right into the back half who hadn't realized the danger yet and had still been chasing after Wolfgang. Some of the more clever pigs ran to the sides in an attempt to escape the path of destruction, but the vast majority were stuck in place as the boulders hit.
The rocky wave struck the wall of pink flesh like a train striking a flock of pigeons. Pigs were crushed, thrown aside, and launched into the air as gravity dragged the boulders down with inexorable surety.
As the pigs were flattened, the rockslide also broke down some of the smaller trees in its path. These added to the mass of the avalanche and tore up the soil, causing even larger trees to fall and be pulled along. Very soon it was almost like the whole side of the hill was falling on the heads of the panicked pigs, ravaging their lines with pitiless brutality.
The flood of soil, rocks, and assorted flora hit the bottom of the hill hard, sending up a spray of all manner of debris. It continued forwards, demolishing several of the outlying pig houses until it eventually lost momentum and slid to a halt just outside the main settlement.
Back on the hillside, the shell-shocked survivors dragged themselves from the ruins. All the pigs could do was stare in horrified fascination at the cascade that had buried so many of their numbers.
They were not prepared in the slightest for what happened next.
"WOOOOLLLLFFFGGAAAANNGGG!"
The strongman's battle cry tore through the air like a clap of thunder, heralding the coming of the end of days. He descended on the pig-warriors with righteous vengeance, his hammer reaping a terrible toll on any unfortunate enough to be caught in its path.
They tried to reorganize what few of their number remained but the wild man in their midst didn't give them the opportunity to do so. He was a one-man-army, smashing through pigs left and right. Those that tried to stand in his way were pummeled to a pulp by his weapon that blurred across their forms in a deadly arc. The sickening sound of snapping bones and tearing flesh would punctuate each solid hit.
After having seen their comrades swept away in the landslide, and now having to deal with this demon in their midst, the remaining pig-warriors broke and fled. Wolfgang swiveled to and fro, his hammer at the ready, but no more tried to engage him. The few battered survivors ran in all directions, choosing to brave the dangers of the forest rather than continue the fight.
The strongman let out a heavy breath, but he didn't allow himself to rejoice in triumph yet. There was one more foe that had to be felled. One he was almost certain hadn't been present during the avalanche of earth.
Chest out, shoulders raised, back straight, and head held high, Wolfgang marched his way down towards the pig village. It was time to rescue his friends.
Wilson could hardly believe what he'd just witnessed. Here he was, tied to a large stick and held above an unlit fire, and he'd watched as a large portion of the surrounding hillside seemingly fell on the heads of his captors. He couldn't get a good glimpse of what had followed, but Wolfgang's war shout, followed by the terrified squeals of his opponents left little to the imagination.
He was speechless. He really was. Not only had the strongman just prevented him from being roasted alive, he'd actually routed a miniature army all by himself. There was just one small problem.
Or rather, one very large problem.
When the pig-warriors had charged on after Wolfgang, their king had remained behind. Whether he'd suspected the trap or simply felt that going after the man was beneath him was open to speculation. Either way, he'd been spared from the resulting catastrophe. And now he seemed rather upset.
The beast trembled in barely restrained rage as Wolfgang walked into view. Striding over the path of destruction, he glared right back at the pig-king. No words were spoken. None were needed. Neither warrior was about to back down, and both knew that only one of them could be leaving.
With a bellowing primal roar, the king lifted up its massive club and hurled itself forwards. Wolfgang answered back with a cry of his own, raising his hammer and shooting towards the fast approaching juggernaut. Wilson was helpless to do anything other than look on as two unstoppable forces rapidly closed in on one another.
At the very last second, Wolfgang leapt to the right, narrowly avoiding the club that had been falling towards his head. The pig-king's attack smashed into the earth with a deafening bang, sending up a small cloud of dirt and dust as it pulverized the soil into a fine mist. This left the hulking mountain of muscle open for a brief moment. An advantage that his opponent was quick to capitalize on.
The stone hammer bashed into the side of the pig's body between the armor plates at a wicked speed, sending it reeling backwards. It disengaged with surprising swiftness, putting distance between the two of them. After a brief pause it became clear that the blow had done no serious damage, much of it having been absorbed by the pig-king's bulk.
Wilson started struggling with his restraints as the two combatants began circling each other. The woven grass that made up his ropes scratched his skin terribly, but he ignored the discomfort. There was no way he was going to sit idly by while his friend fought for his life.
A shout of pain drew his attention back to the battle just in time to see Wolfgang slam forcefully against the wall of one of the pig houses. He doubled over, clutching his gut and wheezing out tortured breaths. Thankfully it appeared that he'd been struck by one of the pig-king's meaty limbs rather than its club. The latter of the two would likely have left him crippled in the dirt.
He managed to regain his footing just as the overgrown boar was readying for another charge. This time however, he took the initiative and threw himself forwards before it could get going. Caught off guard by the sudden attack, the pig-king raised its club in a hasty block.
Wolfgang's hammer swung in an upwards arc, connecting with the club near the hilt. The stone tool proved to be the lesser of the two weapons and exploded on impact in a shower of rock fragments and wood shrapnel.
The force of the blow was so great that the club was torn from the pig-king's hands, catapulting the massive bludgeoning device towards the edge of the village. It bounced only a single time before its weight ground it to a halt, a small cloud of dust marking where it hit.
Wolfgang didn't waste a moment. Before the debris that had once been his trusty hammer even had time to settle, he was dashing towards the fallen weapon as fast as he physically could. Wilson held his breath in a silent prayer only to let it out again as the strongman's hands closed around the club and a triumphant cheer tore itself from his throat.
"Wolfgang! Behind you!"
Willow's shouted warning drew both of their gazes to the looming threat. Wilson's blood went cold at the sight.
Wolfgang hadn't reached the weapon first because he'd been faster than the giant pig. Rather, his opponent hadn't been aiming to retrieve it at all. When he'd dashed after it, the king had taken the opportunity to rush towards the pile of debris that encompassed the edge of his village.
That was where he stood now, muscles straining, veins bulging, and beady eyes glaring balefully while he hoisted a boulder that was almost as big as he was up over his head. Another roar issued forth from its cavernous chest as it threw the enormous rock with every ounce of strength it possessed.
Four pairs of eyes widened in horror as the projectile soared towards Wolfgang. He tried to jump out of the way, but it was far too late.
The boulder hit like a falling star, crushing him into the ground and filling the air with a terrible cracking sound. The rock continued rolling forwards, leaving his shattered body behind as it bowled through the side of a pig house and brought the structure crashing down.
Wilson's mind ceased to function. He couldn't think, couldn't struggle, couldn't so much as bring himself to look away from the crumpled heap that was his friend. The strongman resembled a broken doll. His limbs splayed out in a haphazard manner, one arm bent at an impossible angle. But this was no toy. The steadily growing pool of crimson liquid he lay in was enough to confirm that.
An anguished scream ripped from Wilson's throat as he attacked his bindings with new energy. The skin of his wrists tore open, but he hardly noticed. All that mattered was breaking free and rushing to the strongman's aid. It didn't matter that the pig-king could likely crush him with a single backhanded swipe, he had to try something.
The pig turned away from Wolfgang's form with a satisfied grunt. Seeing Wilson desperately trying to break free, its eyes narrowed in annoyance. It started towards him only to be interrupted as a massive gust of wind tore through the village.
Wilson stopped fighting as the sky turned overcast. The air whipped past his face like a storm of tiny blades. Clouds shrouded everything in a darkened haze, leaving only one spot still illuminated.
Like a beacon from heaven, a single ray of light fell from the sky over Wolfgang's body.
That was when the impossible happened. With no strings or hand to hold it, the amulet around his neck began to hover in the air much like Abigail's flower had done when she'd come close to breaking through to their world. It kept rising until the chain was pulled taunt. Even that didn't stop it as he was dragged upwards with it. Roughly four feet off the ground, the medallion paused, twinkling in midair while the onlookers stared in shock.
With no warning, the amulet shot downwards, slamming into Wolfgang's chest like a speeding bullet and emitting a blinding light. It was so intense that Wilson was forced to close his eyes and look the other direction. Even then, the extreme display seared his eyelids.
As quickly as it had appeared, the light vanished leaving everyone blinking in confusion.
Confusion soon turned to disbelief, which then led its way to breathless awe as Wilson saw what had become of his fallen companion.
Despite having just been crushed in what was certainly a life ending disaster, Wolfgang was slowly standing up. His movements were sluggish and his head faced downwards, hiding his expression, but there wasn't so much as a single scratch on his body. The amulet had vanished and taken every bit of damage with it.
One hand still gripped around the club, Wolfgang's face turned upwards. His body straightened as he grinned defiantly at the shocked pig-king.
"Is that piggy-man's best?" He demanded, lifting the gargantuan weapon into a ready position. "You will need to do better against man as mighty as me!"
Two emotions raged across the hulking creature's face. The savagery that it had so often called upon battled with the sudden fear of this creature that had simply shrugged off being flattened. The unfamiliar feeling of indecision filled its movements as it took a small step backwards.
Wolfgang didn't give it a chance to run.
"This is for trying to hurt friends!" He shouted, dashing forwards with his repossessed weapon raised high. Falling back on its instinctive aptitude for violence, the pig-king automatically took off towards him as well. It was almost an exact reenactment of how the battle had started, but this one had a far different ending.
The club smashed directly into the pig's face with the force of both warriors' momentum behind it. The blow tossed the massive creature head over heels backwards and forced it bodily to the ground. Wolfgang swung his cudgel in an overhead arc, bringing it crashing down on the fallen king's head with a massive crunch.
The tribal crown was flung free from the beast's head, rolling across the floor until it was stopped under Wolfgang's foot.
Panting heavily, the man's face curved upwards in a crooked smile.
"That is what happens when you try to hurt friends."
Twenty minutes later, the group of newly freed survivors found themselves around the throne of the former king. They'd retrieved all their belongings which had been taken by their captors, including Abigail's flower, which Wendy had been beyond relieved to find intact, and Wilson's knife, which he was unsure if he actually wanted after the brief experience during their capture.
Needless to say, the atmosphere of the reunion was filled with relief. Willow had gone rapidly back and forth between praising Wolfgang as a hero and scolding him for doing something so stupidly dangerous. Wilson had been a bit more reserved, giving him a firm half-hug and ignoring the fact that the gesture likely did very little to reinforce his recently threatened manliness. Even Wendy had shown honest concern, graciously thanking him and saying how glad she was that he was all right.
Wolfgang had taken all their praise in stride, waving away the title of hero and replying by saying that he'd simply done what any of them would have in that situation. Or rather, he'd accomplished the end result of what they would have done. The others really didn't have the stamina and strength to push giant rocks up a hill like that.
Though his amulet and hammer were lost, he'd taken up the crown and club from his foe in their place. While slightly too big for him, the decorative peace of headgear certainly fit after what had just happened. The armor the king had been wearing was too heavy to even consider bringing along.
Freshly restocked and together once again, the four of them faced the king's throne. Just as the diary of the late Wickerbottom had described, the large seat had been built outwards from Maxwell's doorway. The divining rod had confirmed it well enough, blaring obnoxiously until they got close enough for it to shut up.
"What now?"
The question, posed by Wendy, brought Wilson out of his thoughts. The others all looked to him expectantly. He was still rather upset with the younger girl for throwing them into this whole mess to begin with, but at this point they were committed. Backing out now wouldn't help them escape.
"We take the next step." He responded, stepping forwards and gripping the lever. "We've beaten one world, so we know it can be done. We'll take the fight to Maxwell yet."
Though nervous, they all nodded in confirmation. They were as ready as they'd ever be. It was time to move on.
Taking a deep breath in preparation for what was about to happen, he pulled.