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"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"
Chapter 4: Into the Wolf's Den
After his encounter with Artemis and Hermes, the wolf creature shambles back to a small entrence way into Mount Parnassus. Through rock and dirt, climbing up and down a corridor of stone, he desends down deep into the earth, back to his accursed master.
As it haphazardly turns around to make full sure of himself that he wasn't followed, he faces a large cavern gate, made from wood scavenged from the surface. Symbolically guarded by two crudely made statues of snarling wolves cobbled together with bits of scraps of pottery, wood and metal.
Due to his fatal injuries, he's slowly dieing from wound. Inspite of reanimating, he doesn't have too much time until the magic that keeps him half-alive wears off. Inhaling the damp, musty cave air, he let's out a long low howl, alerting the guards at the gate. The first guard, probably on his first day on the job, pokes his head through the gate wall much like a dog would stick its head trough a hole in wall.
"YESH, PASSWORDSH?" the young gaurd in a gruff toothy voice. He looks down and sees that there was no time for passwords, the wolf at the gate was fading fast. "HEELP! WALKN DAED! He clumsily shouted.
The dieing wolf started to cough up blood and fluids. He barked in agony for assistance to come faster. As he was swaying back and forth, two other wolf-men dressed up in hoplite armor carrying a patchwork stretcher come trough a hidden door build on the left of the gate, nearly indistinguishable from the panels of wood around it. They assist the wounded wolf man on to the stretcher, hastily going through the door.
The young gaurd wolf struggled for a second to unstick his head from the hole, but successfully gets free. He scampers towards the two soldier wolves, sneaking past his boss and fellow gaurds, he avades being seen by the others as his child-like curiosity and excitement to hear news from the surface. He passes down the subterranean paths and bridges, entangling the vast width of the cave, passing by makeshift markets, mining carts, runs past other wolf-folk, squalored in the dark damp cave. After navigating the rafters of a place loving called "Lycadia", he secretly arrives to a little ledge over looking the more elaborately constructed throne room of the ruler of this dark new underworld, King Lycaon. Alas, six other equally immature wolf-folk had the same idea and took his best spot, so he tries to squeeze a little towards the floor of the ledge to get a better look at what could possibly happen.
Down in the thrown room, the two hoplite wolves present King Lycaon the dieing scout. After so many decades, time has been cruelly kind to Lycaon, he still wore the royal robes he had on that faithful day, but now....the robes adorned a man no longer, but gnarling old wolf. His eyes glowed a sickly gold, his fur was dull with age but combed and clean, inspite living the rest of his life as an animal...he certainly did not want to live the squalored life of one. Lycaon, huntched down on his throne, snarled at the sight. "Wwwhat happened?" He growled. He got up from his throne, with every step followed by a tiptap of his claws and the jangling of the stolen jewelry and gold that he adorned. "How DARE....you comeback without any new tributes from.....grrrrrrr.....the surface." Said through a snarled teeth.
One of the hoplites, sheepishly interjected considering his fallen brethren was not fully capable of speaking. "Um...your highness, he was injured in...b-bbattle." he stuttered in fear of what Lycaon would do to him for defending a lowly scout. He points to the scout's mouth and neck, where Artemis's arrow had penetrated. The scout however, was fading fast, wheezing as the dark force keeping him alive was slowly abandoning him.
Lycaon glared at the scout with daggers in his eyes, furious that he had failed his mission. "Grrrrr, figures. You should be grrrreatful that you're even here.....the prRRRrrrivilege of laying your eyes on your KING....for the last time...now...tell me....." he snarls as he takes out a tiny vile and gently drops a miniscule droplet into the scout's mouth, just to give him a little more life to relay the information he had.
The scout's mouth burned as soon as the liquid touched his tounge, at first wheezing from the hole in the back of his throat, now healing over, letting him cough and scream. This wouldn't last too long, he was dead prior to arriving, so this was just to relay information. "Master, I-I was fofofffollowing the moon goddess" he struggled to speak.
Lycaon listened carefully.
"I-I...I was clossse, to capturing herrrrr....ssssshe was so clossse....until.....the messenger came. Warrrnnnnned her." He continued.
Lycaon his snarl worsened with anger, he knew exactly whom the scout was referring to. "Go onnn...or I'll put you out of your pathetic misery....." He threatened.
The scout coughed, just as fast as the liquid restored him, he slowly fading fast. "But.....I have good news....out numbers....grow...more and more...new citizens....will join....our....ranks...the gods....are unaware.......long...live...king Lycaon.", with the scout's last words, he breathes his last. Dieing on the floor of the throne room.
Although it was not much, King Lycaon was satisfied with this...but it doesn't stop him from being unsatisfied. He dramatically turns around, "Throw his body into the consumption pit. It will keep those BEGGERS away for a bit." He coldly commanded. "How many in our army?".
The hoplite wolves immediately went into attention, "400 men and soldiers, my Lord. All varying from all across Greece, even a handful from Persia and Rome." One replied.
Lycaon, glared back at the hoplite. "Women?" He asked.
"12, your highness. 5 priestesses among them", the one replied.
A sick and perverse smile crawled across his maw, licking his lips for what the prospect of comes from taking virgin priestesses, "exccccccellent....I suppose.....the number of....'new blood'....has risen?", the tyrant king continued.
The hoplite wolf, slightly uncomfortable with having to tell this information, "um...yes my Lord...74 young children...ready for conversions." He responded.
King Lycaon, let's out a small inconsequential chuckle but slowly that chuckle grows in volume and intensity, it grew into a mad cackling. As the caves echoed with his evil laughter, howls can be heard reverberating from all corners of Lycadia, the waves vibrated and boomed throughout, as if the whole mountain would explode from the conchophony of wolves. He stops, and turns to the hoplites, "...wwwhHat are you two... STILL doing HERE! Rrrremove that pile of useless flesh from my throne room! And send some one here to cleeeean this spot....a king must be prrrresentable....to introduce....the new generation of LYCANS to Lycadia....once we our numbers grrrow....we shall convert ALL of Greece, than....hmhmhmhmhehehHAHAHAHAH!....the world...now....GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" He dramatically finished.
The two hoplites scrambled to to take the corpse and drag it to the consumption pit, where the lower caste lycans scavenge for food. The cruel king, claimed up to his throne to rest his old bones. He has been ruling Lycadia for less than two centuries, outliving any possible living decent that could even remember Lycaon. He believed, once his plan would come to fruition, he will be king of far much more than Lycadia.
The lycan youths, satisfied with the display of King Lycaon's authority, all leave the ledge to go back to whatever they were doing. The head guard was there too, tapping his foot in disapproval of the young gaurd's unprofessional behavior. All of the young welps had left....with the exception of one very young pup. Who seemed to have decided to be curious about "the surface". Unlike the other welps, he wasn't converted, he was born in Lycadia, roughly six years of age, he was rearing for a more exciting adventures. All of Lycaon's talk of this world above his stony world, had him thinking about exploring. As he scampered through out possibly the same path as the young gaurd, he sees the big wooden gate. Like an inconspicuous mouse in a vast garden, he's unnoticed by the guards, granted a good mix of them probably weren't gaurd's prior to conversions. The pup slipped through a little opening in-between to large logs, trotted off to new horizons.
After to what the little pup felt like forever in his whole, he finally catches a glimpse of the 'surface'. He sees the sunset, just slowly about to retire to leave room for moon, although he couldn't understand why the big bright thing sank into the horizon, he knew it was too bright for him to like, the little pup thought he would go blind the moment he saw the sun for the first time. However, time was on his side to give him a small taste of daylight before the night came, giving him the gift of moonlight for the little pup to explore in more suitable light. This whole new world was filled to the brim with smells and sounds the pup would have never dreamed of, he drinks in the sight of this little patch of forest, extending his little pawed hand to touch grass for the first time, feeling it's cold but pleasantly prickly blades. His tail, too small for it to be considered a tail but some older lycan's standards, wags uncontrollably, the little pup knew this bold new world was ripe for adventure. Without looking back at the cave entrence, he darted through the grass, off to an adventure.
End of chp4
#hermes#Lycaon#greek-Bros#greek bros#greek mythology#chp4#greek bros: the return of an old enemy#short story#bippity boppity hes your antagonist-oppity#man i need a drink#artemis#zeus#blood of zeus#hellenistic#greek myth
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