Months before Johnny's encounter...
A Castle lay hopelessly besieged. It had been this way for some months, but only recently had its attackers made progress on the stalwart gate positioned on the north side.
"They've breached the gates! Spearmen, to the gates! Hold the line until Count Hinders has escaped!"
The order was barely heard over the clamor of battle.
Salvo after salvo of arrows was loosed by the archers atop the wall, which hailed down mercilessly on the assailants, but the effort was in vain; they were inside. Wave after wave of armored foot soldiers charged through the breached gate. Within minutes, the hastily assembled troupe of spearmen that held a rapidly thinning line of defense were slaughtered. Blood flowed in thick rivulets along the cobbled path to the gate.
On the eastern side of the castle, from a window on the highest floor of a tower, the fearful eyes of Count Vode Hinders, the proprietor of the fortification, watched as his castle fell to the enemy. His empire was falling about him.
"Servants! SERVANTS!"
His high-pitched squeal shattered the silence in the chamber. Several moments passed, and a knock on the door signaled the arrival of the summoned servant.
"Hurry it up, will you!?!"
The door opened. A short maid passed through. Two ears similar to that of a dog's were pinned to the sides of her head as she quailed in the presence of her master.
"Tell the guard that I want every slave out on the battlefield immediately! Look lively, there is no time to delay! RUN!!!"
The maid jumped from Count Hinder's scream. She rushed out of the chamber, a short, bushy tail flailing about in her wake.
"Damn you, Galeliel! Damn all of you demihumans! I swear I'll have your Elven head, Galeliel! Just wait until my strongest slaves come for you, you'll rue the day you ever usurped my god-given authority!"
He continued to watch the scene from the window of his chamber, his gaze a mixture of hatred and fear at the carnage below. His only hope was that the beastmen he unleashed would be able to stop them.
-
The eternal night is what these creatures reveled in. Long ago, their ancestors were approached by a faceless, nameless goddess, and were given a choice: to remain upon four legs, dominated by the strongest beings in the world, the humans, or be granted their intellect, with strength far transcending them. In their primitive minds, this was an offer they could not refuse.
These progenitors' progeny grew to be the creatures that marched single file from the slave pens. Their necks were bound by enchanted collars that forever sealed their freedom and indomitable wills. If one of their kind were to disobey the owner of the collar of enslavement, their heads would roll the very next instant. Thus was their restricted existence.
They were of many diverse backgrounds and species. Some were hounds, said to be cursed with fangs that, once bitten, would forever change a human into a beast: Werewolves. There were also those of incredible strength, who towered high in the air upon cloven hooves. Their upturned horns and their immense strength struck fear into the hearts of their enemies: the Minotaur.
The most singular of all were the exotic species, for as an import they were exceptionally uncommon. However, the majority of these specimens did not suit the needs of Count Vode Hinders in this hour of battle. This is because many of the more exotic species were too weak for combat or field labor, and were instead kept as playthings or as a noble's affidavit of status.
A sudden shout from one of the guards leading the slaves caused the column to split into disarray. The minotaurs, who spearheaded the battalion of slaves, charged fearlessly forward. Armored soldiers soared into the air in bloody arcs. Screams, roars, and the clatter of steel on steel intermingled into a dissonant thrum. Bones shattered, and so did the enemy's hopes of victory.
In the middle of the fray, the unusual colors of one lone beast stood out among the rest. She bore the orange and black stripes of the majestic cats of the east: a tigerkin.
In her hands was the spear thrust at her by one of the guards that fetched them. She did not understand what this meant. From the moment she was brought to this castle, she was forced to work the fields on the outside. She hadn't the slightest notion of combat. However, her first lesson had already begun.
Ahead of her, a trio of soldiers had managed to cut down a werewolf. It fell to the ground, dark red blood sprayed from the slash across its neck. With their immediate threat slain, their eyes fell on the tigerkin. With a cry, they lunged toward her.
She could smell their fear. It hung from their exhausted bodies. They were weaker. Her instincts were screaming for satisfaction.
Her long white fangs bared. It was time for Igrud to hunt.
-
The battle at the main gates ended. The death tolls on both sides were heavy, but the attackers were defeated.
All around Igrud were the bodies of the dead. Her maw was drenched in their blood. In both hands, were the blood-soaked blades owned by the trio she had killed. These weapons were more to her liking. Outside the gate, she could hear the battle continuing. Inside, the war was won, but outside it raged on. It wasn't over yet.
The gate was open. Earlier, the more powerful beastmen had charged outside to meet the battle head-on, drunken in their bloodlust. She admired their strength, but she had other designs. The gates were open. She could see freedom through those gates.
Igrud cast about her. The guards had fled in fear from the sight of the beasts' onslaught. There was no one to halt her escape. With a last glance at the castle behind her, she fled from the castle.
-
The tigerkin traveled as quickly as she could. She was unsure if the collar was effective over a long distance. For that reason, she resolved to put as much space between her and the master as possible.
Her flight led her to a place known as the Navir Forest. It is a densely populated forest, the thick canopy of which nearly blotted out the sun. She halted at the outskirts of the forest.
She feared the dark.
It was the dark that took everything away from her. Her home, her family, her entire life. It was in the dark when the humans came to her village. It was dark when they carried the children away, leaving the bodies of her parents to rot. It was dark in the ship they carried her in, and it was dark in the slave pens. Above all, it was dark in her dreams, where her nightmares forced her to return to that day. Ever since then, the fear of the dark was eternally etched into her mind.
Igrud stood frozen in place. The shadows underneath the trees shifted in the afternoon breeze, the movement of which raised goosebumps underneath her thick fur. She had no choice. If she was to flee anywhere, this forest was the only choice. Thus, she steeled her resolve and plunged into the darkness of the forest.
-
Some days had passed since Igrud's flight from the castle. Her powerful frame had thinned from a lack of nourishment, and she grew weary from the daily footslogging. If she were to survive here, she must hunt.
Her nose caught the scent of a creature close by. It was a wise decision to make this forest her refuge.
She stole up upon the unsuspecting creature, swords poised for the pounce upon her prey. She saw it. It was a creature she had never seen before. On both sides of its head grew horns that branched outward like the limbs of a tree. It walked on two slender legs and in place of where its would be were two cloven hooves, similar to the minotaur she had fought alongside not too long ago. White spots intermingled with its brown pelt, which ended in a milky white tail. It was kneeling on the ground, where it grazed on the forest foliage.
There was no hesitation in her movements. Her instincts gave her the control needed to dive directly onto the creature. It didn't suffer long. The creature's head was in Igrud's teeth, having sliced through its neck with her twin blades.
She wouldn't go hungry today.
-
Her hunger satiated, Igrud continued her flight. The forest was silent as though mortified by the gory scene she had left behind. She paid it no heed, instead opting for cleaning her fur after her sumptuous meal.
Her progress was halted by the sight of a gaping chasm. It was a cave. Shelter, at last. Her heart sang with joy at the sight of her new home. This is where she would hide. Her master could never find her here.
It was a tight squeeze for her tall body, but after considerable twisting and turning, she managed to fit through. Though as soon as she entered, she immediately exited in a panicked scramble through the narrow entrance. It was pitch dark.
There was no way she could enter without light.
About her body hung the ragged clothes her captors had given her to wear. A small part of it would do for making a torch. With her massive strength, she wrenched a limb from a tree and tightly wrapped some loose foliage and the rag about it. It had no oil, but it would do for a while.
And so, Igrud entered her newly discovered home.
-
Several months passed, and Igrud had made her cave into her home. Her days were spent hunting, gathering materials for the numerous torches she placed in the extensive cave system to rid her of her paranoia and exploring the cave system.
One of her discoveries was the green, healing liquid that dripped from the stalactites deeper inside. It was foul and stuck to her fur. However, when spread across a wound, or ingested, it would gradually cure the wound. In addition, it was slightly flammable, giving her the necessary fuel for longer-lasting torches.
On this day, however, her hunting and daily chores were few and far between. She had already stocked up on dried carcasses and fashioned many torches made from the green liquid and various plants she found outside the cave. Today, she chose to explore.
Igrud's hunting occasionally led her to the far edge of the forest, which opened into a massive plain. She never decided to go there, as there wasn't any game to be had. Now that her food stores were full, Her curiosity persuaded her to venture out and investigate it.
It seemed to stretch on forever. Long grasses swayed in the breeze as small white butterflies and silver-colored bees made their rounds to the many flowers that dotted the landscape. As she pressed on, the forest behind her shrunk to a shadow on the horizon.
Her ears picked up a voice in the distance. It was difficult to tell what it was saying if anything at all.
Her fur stood up on end. If it was a human voice, its owner was not likely to be friendly. They're all the same, she thought, as she drew her swords from leather sheathes she had fashioned only recently. They kill, plunder, and enslave anything they see. She'll kill it as soon as she finds it.
She changed her course to follow the voice.
-
A human laid unconscious on his side on the grassy ground. He was strongly built, like the human warriors Igrud had often seen at the castle, though he wore odd clothing she had never seen before. She turned him over to reveal his face. He was human, no doubt about it, but he didn't seem to be in good health. His skin was pale and cold, and his lips were crusted and dry, as though they hadn't seen water for some time. His smell... was different than other humans. Did he smell like... a beastman?
Her initial intention was to slay any humans she came across. Her hopes were dashed when she discovered that this one posed no threat. It was pitiful, in a way, how abandoned the human looked. His face was tear-stained.
Igrud was about to leave when she heard a faint muttering from the human. He spoke in a foreign language. It was odd for a human to not speak the human language, she thought.
She was conflicted. Her hatred of humans was certain. However, she pitied this human's plight, and the fact that he spoke an entirely different language than the one she was familiar with was intriguing.
After a substantial amount of deliberation, Igrud decided. She hefted the man onto her shoulder. It would be a long trip back to the cave with it, she thought, but this trophy was worth it. Maybe she would make him into a slave after she figures out how to remove her collar.