Chapter 74 - [Wolf Pack]

Griswold was phenotypically similar to a German Shepherd, David thought. They were probably called something different on Ferrum, however. David briefly considered the weapons available to a dog beastman. Unlike the cat beastfolk, Griswold’s only natural weapon was his set of fanged teeth. When fighting, dog beastfolk felt an instinct to bite, so David would have to look out for that.

Beyond his natural advantages as a beastman, Griswold was also a highly skilled warrior. He was a night stalker, so he was better at fighting from a distance, though he could still fight competently at close range.

David took a moment to look down at Griswold’s equipment and saw that he had left his bow back at his seat. The only weapons Griswold carried were two shortswords that hung from his belt. David didn’t understand why he was closing the distance. At close range, a spellblade had a significant advantage over a night stalker.

“Captain!” Griswold said. “I heard that you refused to raid the encampment! Were you too tired after slaying a few puny orcs?”

“Well, my wrist did hurt a bit from the repetitive strain of cutting off fifty-three orc ears, thank you for asking,” David joked, gesturing to the heavy coin purse hanging next to his sword, Bloodcrest.

“If you were too weak to finish the fight,” Griswold continued to speak, not listening at all to David’s rebuttal, “then maybe I should duel you right now and take command of the pack.”

Griswold punctuated his sentence by prodding David forcefully in the chest. In a tenth of a second, David grasped Griswold’s hand firmly by the wrist and bent hit harshly backwards.

As Griswold yelped in pain, David said, “Don’t touch me if you’re not ready for a fight.”

An instant before the beastman’s wrist was bent far enough back to cause permanent damage, David released it. Griswold slipped backwards a few steps before turning back to regard Captain York with a snarl.

Lieutenant Griswold Teliom raised his hands in a fighting stance and surged toward his captain. This was a mistake, David knew. Griswold was an [Agility]-based fighter; his [Strength] score couldn’t have been higher than twenty.

David took a fighting stance and, just as Griswold entered melee range, caught the beastman in the chin with a flicker jab. David kept most of his strength out of the attack, but the accuracy and unexpected direction of the blow caught Griswold off guard.

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Griswold didn’t expect the flicker jab because it was not a common attack in Ferrum. David’s front hand was resting near his waist as Griswold moved forward, jumping up toward his opponent’s chin at the last possible moment.

An instant later, David followed this first attack with a leg sweep, dropping the unsuspecting Griswold to the ground. David planted a knee firmly on Griswold’s chest and drew one of the beastman’s shortswords from its sheath with one smooth movement.

Before Griswold had time to recover from his head striking the cold ground, he felt a razor-sharp blade press against his vulnerable neck. David held the shortsword in a reverse grip, pressing the point into the dirt next to Griswold’s neck. With the smallest amount of force, David could have severed the beastman’s carotid artery.

“Better luck next time,” David smiled as Griswold raised his hands in a show of surrender.

“What was that?” Griswold wheezed as David removed the blade from his neck. He must have been referring to the flicker jab, David thought.

“A pugilist’s technique,” David said as he offered a hand to the beastman. “I might teach it to you one day.”

As David pulled Griswold back to his feet, Captain Erasmus Thorn stepped into the light of the bonfire and said, “Do you have everything handled here, Captain York?”

“Of course,” David smiled. “I’m just showing the dog man who’s the alpha of this pack.” As he spoke, David picked up a mug of mead and pushed it into Griswold’s hand.

“I’m sure,” Erasmus said, peering at Griswold with lidded disdain in his eyes. “In most military units, attacking a superior officer is not tolerated.”

Griswold walked back to his retinue with his ears back and his shoulders slumped. Of all the times he had dueled David, that one had been the most one-sided. David said, “In the beastfolk tribes, they choose their leaders based on who’s the strongest. It’s only natural that they’ll challenge me from time to time. If nobody gets seriously hurt, I’m fine with beating a beastman every so often. It keeps me limber.”

“Uh huh,” Erasmus said. He took a seat on one of the logs and looked at the bonfire burning in the center of the Fourth Company’s camp. “If it works for you, it’s fine for now. It’s just that if the beastfolk are ever going to integrate into another unit, they’ll need to grow past that instinct. They can’t challenge a general to a duel for control of an army without serious consequences. Legally speaking, that would be an attempted military coup, which is punishable by death.”

“You have a point, there,” David said as he took a seat next to Erasmus. David picked up two mugs that had been placed on a small table next to the log and handed one to Erasmus. “Maybe you should take some beastfolk in your unit,” David suggested. “None of them would be able to get past your [Time Stop].”

“Certainly,” Erasmus said with a smile. He had always been particularly vulnerable to flattery, David knew, “but I’d rather not make my company a big wolf pack… no offense.”

“None taken,” David said with an easy smile.

A few seconds passed as Erasmus and David silently looked into the bonfire. Elves, beastfolk, and humans laughed and danced around the fire built from the remnants of orcish homes.

“You know, David,” Erasmus began, his tone indicating that he meant to talk about a serious topic, “our campaign will not last forever. One day, the orc tribes will be removed from Etronia, or they’ll go so far into hiding that we won’t be able to find any more of them. What will you do then?”