Wolves of Dunkott

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Re: Wolves of Dunkott

Postby Kusanagi » Mon Dec 03, 2012 1:58 am

There’s something to be said about those that simply know how to survive. After countless battles, close calls, when by all rights they should be dead, they somehow escape none the worse for wear. It’s not necessarily any indication on their righteousness, the phrase ‘the good die young’ comes to mind. When this devil’s luck is combined with a normal villain something like Saw emerges. When it is combined with an actual warrior, that figure becomes like Caliburn.
The howl that ripped through the forest at sunset was both a challenge, and declaration of the hunt. A fool like Edward would only respond to the former, facing the challenge head on in some childish notion of bravado. Caliburn recognized both, a sentient yet primal force lurked where his men had gone, that they were all likely dead, and whatever killed them was not satisfied. If none of the others had escaped, that meant there were only five of them now, six if that coward Saw returned, but that was beyond doubtful.

“Make for the town.” His declaration shook the others, who could only stare with fascinated terror into the darkening wood. The one at this moment who could best be described as Caliburn’s second was Benton; he looked to speak up, but had to turn the words over in his head a few times before he was satisfied. Saw and Edward ran rings around him in terms of intellect, but Benton wouldn’t betray a man for just an extra piece of silver as they would.

“But sir, the others haven’t returned, even with just the women and healers taking the town could be a rough go-“

“We’re not going to sack the town, we’re going to ask for sanctuary, and we best be quick about it.”

A loss can always be swallowed, so long as it is not final. Survivors like Caliburn know this lesson well.
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The change in atmosphere was clear even to Saw, once the howl sounded there was an unspoken message conveyed to all those in the bar, even those lovely barmaids who had been working tirelessly with the wolves returned wearing dour expressions. There were no cries of alarm, no looks of distress, but what had been a cheery mood despite the guests now felt to the bandit as if he had stumbled into the middle of a standoff. Even the wolves outside had grown quiet, though he didn’t have the nerve to take a look for himself.

The only one who appeared unchanged was Justin. The youth had tied most of his belongings into a sack, and even during this tense period seemed eager to leave. While the maids looked at him with some sense of unease, they did nothing else to discourage him, there was a story there but no one seemed obliged to share with old Saw.

It wasn’t until the boy made it to the door that any of them bothered to speak up. It had been so quiet the sound of a voice nearly knocked Saw from his stool.

“There may be wounded coming into town.”

Saw stifled a laugh at that, he didn’t doubt the danger but the idea of Caliburn in need of urgent care tugged at the corners of his mouth. Looming terrors or not the old bandit would just as soon have them gobble up his previous leader. Moving on was much simpler when there weren’t any connections to the past.
Still despite Saw’s preferences the words stalled the boy, but only enough for him to mull over what was said for a second. “There won’t be.” Justin responded. His voice calm, detached, and certain, it didn’t need to be said that the boy had seen this before. Justin didn’t seem to have any particular distaste, or sense of enjoyment in the matter, he was simply stating what was natural, or what would pass as natural in this town.

The maids looked at him skeptically and with no small hint of disappointment, odd to have it directed at someone else the codger thought. The boy shifted uncomfortably, apparently unused to crippling disapproval, and not having the good sense not to care. The weight of the judgmental stares weighed upon the youth though, and he offered a noncommittal “If someone should need my help, I’ll give it” before departing.

Ah the foolishness of youth, aspiring to meet the expectations others placed upon you. Saw did wonder just what the boy would do. He knew in his case, the second the door closed he would have left without a stopping to look back. A man’s word was like currency, but Saw felt it was worth less than a copper piece.

The room once again fell quiet, and being the odd one out made the old coot feel agitated. “Can any of you kind ladies please explain to me just what that was about.”
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It’s been too long, not the blood, not the cries of terror, that’s common. That’s the bread and water of malice, a deer can deliver both of those things, it’s the nuances that separate a hunter and a killer. In the conflict that was occurring on the border of the town of Dunkott and the forest edge it was impossible to tell just who was thinking these thoughts. For a killer knows its own and while other indulgences may take its place nothing is quite like the thrill of a do or die situation.

The beast that hunted them knew their goal, and Caliburn knew in the cockles of his heart that it knew that. All he could do was push what was left of his command onward, suspecting they would not outrun their pursuer, and taking it on faith they would be safe inside the village. In a way it was thrilling, the first real sense of danger since leaving the civilized world, a feeling he never would have gotten by simply slaughtering a few villagers. It was much like evading the king’s men, though failure here wouldn’t end with something as clean as a hangman’s noose.

Perhaps not clean, but maybe quick, to his right where one his men had been trailing he heard what could be described as a wet snap. Caliburn hazard a look, no body, no blood, and no sign of their pursuer. He didn’t stop running. Benton, bless the poor fool, actually stopped and called for their missing comrade. Caliburn didn’t stop long enough to see exactly what happened, but it was like a black shadow engulfed him. Coming from nowhere, and then overwhelming Benton with its sheer presence. He screamed longer than the other. Whether that was because Benton was of hardier stock, or the monster enjoyed taking its
time, in either case it allowed Caliburn to get a few strides closer to the town.

When the screams did stop, he couldn’t help but feel dread. Benton’s pain may have ended but that meant nothing for him. His experience told him it was Laputa, but typically they were more straightforward than this, devastatingly brutal, but efficient. He’d never known one to take more pleasure in its work than necessary. Of course he had never been fortunate enough to know one that wasn’t acting on a contract. If this was their natural temperament it was a surprise that anyone lived to tell the tale.

What occurred next he couldn’t claim to be proud of, but it was as instinctual as breathing to him. Thomas, the last of his men, he had failed them all and for that he was sorry, but he could only lament on his failure should he survive this day. Caliburn could tell the blow was coming, not through any true perception, just being all too familiar with death himself. He pulled poor Thomas to a stop, and flung the surprised man toward the darkness, a swipe meant for the bandit leader’s back took the younger man instead. Thomas had a brief moment of surprise, thinking perhaps the claw had missed him, no doubt the last firing synapses of a brain that didn’t know it was dead yet. The cut severed him at his waist, his upper body falling backward, while his lower fell forward. Caliburn didn’t pay him another glance.

In a heartbeat the shadow would come for him as well, he pulled the weapon at his side, a glint of steel and a slash, there wasn’t a space in time to gather details. The only thing he knew was that blood had spilled and for the first time that night the blood spilled had not been from him or his men. The beast howled in pain, but it was replaced quickly by fury. Caliburn recognized the strike coming towards him, and indeed that was the only thing that saved his life. The impact took his breath, and shattered the armor adorning his chest. He lost his sense of self, taken airborne by the blow, he had a moment of bewildering almost unreal pain and then he hit the earth and it became all too real. He was sure something had snapped, his limbs dangled uselessly without feeling, even with tremendous effort he could not even lift his head.

His lack of feeling in his extremities only amplified his other senses, and he noted with grim and final detail the shadow’s deliberate approach. There was no more need for stealth, or for tricks, Caliburn was the last of the prey, and he was broken, both physically and mentally. Despite the all-consuming dread that dwelled within, despite the other worldly terror that gripped them, it was just as he suspected, a Laputa, with fur as black as blacksmith’s coal, and its claws still dripping from the gore of his fellows. Better than the noose he decided, more distinctive, something to tell the others in the pit, one last tale to go out on.

As he shut his eyes waiting for the final strike, he felt himself hurled into another’s arms and lifted from the ground. His sudden savior had no time to mind his wounds, and indeed the sudden pain that gripped him knocked him cold. The last he heard before falling unconscious was the Wolf’s cry of challenge. Prey had been stolen from out from under its nose and it was not happy.
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Survival always came first in in Saw’s mind, but he did love a scrape, so long as he could watch from a safe distance. So when a commotion rose in the village, he could feel curiosity get the best of him. It seemed to start up all at once various figures cloaks dashed by the bar’s windows, followed by the more adventurous of the bar maidens, and he could swear he could hear the thunderous steps of the Lupata outside beginning to stir. For Saw, who had been left in the dark this entire time, the urge to remain safe and secure finally took a back seat to wanting to know just what the bloody hell was going on! Granted it took a few additional drinks from the now unguarded tap to work up the courage.

He slipped into the street and naturally followed the crowd, not quite blending in, but not quite standing out either. The Laputa impossible to ignore left the roads to the humans, walking along at their side. He couldn’t understand the language, but could recognize body language. While the men and women showed concern, the Laputa again seemed more amused than anything. Which as far as Saw was concerned meant that he could enjoy a bit of bloody entertainment without sticking out his own neck!

The procession finally ceased at the hill. The villagers daring to go no further, and the massive mounds of fur and muscle seemed to deem it a good place to have a seat. It had been so orderly that the bandit was starting to believe this this had all happened before. That he, and undoubtedly his fellow bandits had just been this evening’s entertainment. He’d be horrified at the implication but so long as the joke was played on his mates rather than him, he couldn’t care less.

Speaking of his mates, there was a decided lack of them in town. He shouldn’t be surprised, given everything that he’d seen. Still he had been expecting a more, ‘robust’ showing out of his fellows. A rousing cry, some attempts at swashbuckling and daring do, before being laughably routed. It would have made a fine show, and had been something he was looking forward too.

Instead there was only one, if you could call him that, Saw didn’t have what could be called a first row seat. But he knew the leathers, and armor of his former commander when he saw them even as stained with blood as they were. The boy was there, apparently fulfilling his vow, the old bandit felt the urge to call for Justin to just drop the bastard, before common sense reminded him that making himself standout in any fashion might net him a similar fate as Caliburn.

That became infinitely more apparent once the Old Saw got a glance at just what Justin was saving Caliburn from. The Laputa could be intimidating even when they were being jovial, just being next to one brought on a sense of helplessness. Sheer raw power, bundled together with vicious teeth and fangs, a living representation of all there was to fear in Mother Nature; perhaps a touch dramatic, but no less accurate in any case. Still they never seemed entirely out of place, while they could make a man piss himself in fear, it was never by unnatural means it was just the way of things.

The wolf that followed Justin into town just seemed wrong. Saw tried to search for something more appropriate, but just looking at it made him feel unwell. Its coat, at first glance, appeared to be black but it seemed to blend and flow with the shadows that surrounded it. Its eyes piercing crimson, unblinking, more like a lizard’s eyes than a wolf, and the most unsettling thing was the noise, or entirely lack thereof.

The entirety of his time in the tavern, Old Saw couldn’t go a moment without hearing the Laputa outside. Every movement a tremor, every word a quake, but with this one he swore if he shut his eyes he never know it was there. While tempting, he had the nagging feeling if he did, he might never open them again.

“Another affront”

Saw rose his head, another new oddity not only presented itself but saw fit to smack him across the face. All the women had spoken around him in unison. The old cur looked frantically about, distressed only further in that he seemed to be the only one surprised by this.

The message was undoubtedly meant for Justin, who valiantly carried the man that had planned to murder not only him, but his entire village. He didn’t seem to take an entire gender of his village speaking out as a warning.

“First you deny the righteous call, but now you steal what is ours by right of the hunt.”

Every female spoke, the men regarded it not with shock but with acceptance. They didn’t seem happy by this turn of events by any stretch, but unlike Saw they weren’t struggling to pick their jaws up off the floor.

Justin was not deterred, he drug the limp Caliburn along, the former scourge of the east little more than helpless weight in his arms. Unlike the creature he could not compel others to speak for him. So he bellowed with such righteous fury, that a village in unison could not match his passion.

“But I adhere to my nature! Just as you yours! He is outside the wilderness, and has raised no hand against me, and thus he will be healed. To deny that is to deny me, and defeats the purpose you have been striving for.”

Saw knew he was missing something, but knew how to read a crowd better than most. A dark titan mulled about the village square, unopposed save for the brat, and yet every man and woman present remained impartial. The Laputa themselves, saw fit to do nothing bit watch the spectacle so far. Saw was little more than a flea, that as of yet had gone unnoticed, and he strived to keep it that way. Clearly the other kingdoms had gotten it right when they had left Dunkott to its own fate. Managing such a bedeviled mess, was clearly more trouble than it was worth.

“Then adhere to your promise” the maidens retorted, under the devilish spell of the beast no doubt. Saw nearly did double take, a whole village full a clerics to cure them and someone decided to let them chatter along.

Justin had no reply, but to show what he was capable of. The light seemed to seep from him, and into the burden he was carrying. Caliburn shuddered with fresh and wasted life. The wound on his chest beginning to heal, and what had been ragged final breaths began to steady. Saw was forced to look at the boy with newfound respect. Clerics were a dime a dozen, and that’s how he originally saw this village, but the fact that Laputa and the two major kingdoms showed them respect showed that his judgment was misplaced.

This was no charlatan passing off the curing of scrapes and bruises as he was some gift from the gods. Or some supposedly educated fool jamming leeches in any possible hole, and hoping for the best. This was honest to goodness magic, just as rare and valuable on the battlefield as the Laputa themselves. How these two came together would eat at him, like some parasite gnawing away at him. He had a feeling that no one was going to just step up and tell him. It could be worse he supposed, he could be Caliburn.

“My promise is to my nature.” He responded, as the beast drew closer he drew further back, the entire approach heading further toward the crowd, and affording Old Saw a better view. Caliburn was breathing steadily and seemed to no longer face the threat of his life, at least for the moment.

“There is truth to your words normally, but not this day. These serpents will strike you, and those around you, and yet you spurn me.” The chorus rose up, and still the boy looked unperturbed, dragging the villain that planned all their deaths mere hours before.

“There is no need to speak in riddle. I will heal anyone who does not raise a sword to me. Even if their intentions are good or ill.” he turned his back on the dread wolf, and Saw couldn’t help but hold his breath. Nothing happened, no retributive spite, no wrath of the gods, and the old man smirked. You don’t stay alive this long without knowing what side the gods are going to come down on. Justin had it, Saw wasn’t quite sure what it was, but the boy had it, and that’s all that mattered.

“Nature must be respected” the chorus rang out again. “But not just your own, there are those who you heal who would slit your throat in a heartbeat. They have to be dealt with, your good nature will get you killed if you travel alone.”

Saw’s various musings died and the old bandit suddenly felt very exposed. He looked to his left and right, and was uncomfortably aware just how many of the men, women, and wolves that were staring at him. He was now all too aware that he wasn’t as inconspicuous as he thought he was. He scrambled, feeling as helpless a Caliburn was, staring down a multitude of faces that questioned his very existence. What could he say to that, the beast he never seen before had pegged him and Caliburn together, how long had it been watching them?! Did it even need too? Could it in fact see right through him?! It always spoke in plural, it didn’t just mean Caliburn, and even Old Saw could see the writing on the wall.

Justin answered his terror easily enough. “I know what men I deal with, I know the risk, but despite their nature I will not turn anyone away.” His response was easy casual, but it struck Old Saw right in the chest. Had he known? For how long?! Had he been friendly with him knowing his full intentions?! How could he? Even if he softened on the boy, he came in to this fully expecting to slit the boy’s throat just as the beast said.

“And yet you won’t accompany me?” the unholy chorus spoke. There was a hint of anger in their tone. So much so it stabbed at the old bandit’s heart. Saw had never felt so trapped, even when raiding a village the eyes had never been entirely fixated on him. But now he dared not take an extra breath, for everyone in the town looked on him with anticipation, if he ran, just what would they do?

“With them the choice is theirs to make. With you it is already decided. Blood, death, gore. I can’t change you, and unlike my ancestors I see no reason to try.” His words were firm, but Saw didn’t see any reason to feel confident. His life was not only still on the line, but he wasn’t sure Justin’s comments put him in any more favorable a light. Even the boy recognized him as filth, and compared to what stood before him he might as well be an Angel. What chance would he have with rest of them?

“And yet, these-” Saw froze as it shot a soul piercing glare at him. “-over me. If nothing else I am at least predictable, and I will not stab you in the back.”
Justin turned around, for the first time showing anger. “You cannot act as if it is only bandits you’ve slain!”

“As I said, I’m predictable, I’m honest. They’re just like me, but I bare you no ill will.” The tone of the collective was dripping with scorn.

“Men can change, I’m not sure you can.” The boy rebutted, but still the creature laughed.

As if their command called him, Caliburn’s freshly healed body didn’t hesitate in grabbing Justin, and holding a knife to his throat.

“Nothing personal boy, but I just want to get the seven hells out of here.” Caliburn grabbed him under arm and began to drag him backward, his eyes never leaving the beast in front of him. The otherworldly beast did nothing to move, and if anything seemed to look rather pleased with itself. Justin didn’t fight, and only the shadow of disappointment lined his face.

“Men can change eh?” The unholy chorus said to the boy, and then turned their attention to Caliburn. “You won’t make it out of here alive.” Saw had the feeling they weren’t just talking to his former leader, but was it really former. He glanced around the those gathered around him with natural suspicion. Maybe helping Caliburn was his only real way out of this mess. Just looking around the rest of the bandits most likely didn’t make it this far, and if he helped all past sins could be overlooked, couldn’t they?

No one moved to restrain him, and he had free access to move, still he made no rush to come to Caliburn’s aide even if he stood out in a crowd, it was still better than standing out in the open.

It was infuriating really, to walk through a crowd that didn’t react, incredibly alien. They were all waiting for a something, and he didn’t know what, and more importantly it seemed that the entire show was waiting for his response specifically. This whole show, maybe from the start was entirely between the creature and the boy, and poor old Saw was left to pick out just whose blasted argument was right. Now normally Saw was not the one for philosophy, and was more likely to rest his eyes and engage his dreams rather than debate, but considering this one might result in his gruesome death it was worth giving it some thought.

Caliburn wouldn’t kill the boy unless challenged, and if he made it out of the town he wouldn’t be, at least not by the villagers. Boy goes free, hell wolf could piss and moan but it would still be wrong. They might be killers, but they weren’t mindless. Everybody wins. This was of course if the wolf didn’t act in any way before their getaway, and Saw wasn’t willing to put money on that bet, let alone his life.

Caliburn was a lost pawn in this, simply wanting to escape alive, but there were too many players in this and he, whether he wanted to admit to it or not, was now unimportant. For the first time in his life Old Saw had all the power whether he wanted it or not. Someone was going to have to die, and the positives outcomes for Saw seemed rather slim.

Killing the boy either now or later was right out. It wouldn’t give him any satisfaction and he would be lucky if he was torn apart by the mob before the wolf got him. Killing the wolf? Might as well ask him to kill the sun or moon, they both seemed as likely. So there was run like mad, and hoped the demented buggers would take the boys words to heart and not tear them limb from limb. But then they’d be back in the wilderness wouldn’t they?

The prospect of being away from any sort of town, knowing things like the hell wolf could be lurking left the old bandit wishing he still had a mother to cry out to. There way he could leave the town tonight, and not hope to still have his skin attached in the morning…

At his wits end he knew it what needed to be done, and summoned all his remaining courage to do so.

As Caliburn began to snake his way through the crowd with the unresisting Justin at knife point, Old Saw burst through the crowd, eyes wild, teeth bared and immediately fell to his knees.

“Oh young master, the beast is right about me! I’m a murderer and a cheat, a liar, and defiler, but please have mercy on me!” He groveled, bellowed, and cried as if it was second nature, and in truth he had done as much to a variety of masters over his long life. It didn’t matter if the boy believed him or not, he couldn’t turn him to the wolves (literally), while he was begging for his life, lest he be a hypocrite.

“You old fool, what in the seven hells are you doing?!” Caliburn trembled with rage at the blubbering bandit who continued to lay prostrate.

“I can atone, dedicate myself to the gods, even give myself up to one of the capitals. Please just show mercy!” He ignored his former master, for he mattered very little at this point. If he wasn’t smart enough to see this as the only way out, then he would receive no help from Saw.

“Damnable spineless oaf, despicable coward! The beast needs the boy, I have it by the throat with him as a hostage!” Caliburn put the boot to him, striking him in the ribs, or would have if Old Saw had not known him so well. He caught the boot, looking for the world as if he was sobbing at his former master’s feet.

“Please m’lord see reason!” he pleaded face full of crocodile tears. It threw the warlord of balance and it was all it took to for Justin to slip from his grasp. Caliburn had a moment of terror in his eyes before a fiery and intense rage overrode it like water bursting from a dam. The blows hit the old man fast and furious, under his fury even though it only lasted moments, Saw felt his bones snap and conscious begin to fade. He took pleasure though in the shadow that swept past them, taking Caliburn with it, and leaving him bloody, beaten but victorious.
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Old Saw awoke all pain gone from his aching bones, hell even his bones seemed to ache if only little less. Certainly better than he had felt in years, well except for the metallic weight on his wrists. He didn’t even have to look to see there were irons clasped to his arms, and the familiar weight of his blade was gone as well. All in all better to be chained and alive, that offered options at least.

His room was Spartan, just a straw filled mattress, and a termite riddled chair in an otherwise empty room. Luxurious compared to the dungeons he would likely be headed, but he bought himself time, and the capital cronies could debate for months over the rights to hang him. Good Old Saw even when facing the devil himself he could come out ahead.
The door opened, and rather than the sour faced expression of some poor villager assigned to impromptu guard duty Justin emerged. Not that his face seemed all too delightful.

“I’m sorry.” The youth was solemn, it was almost touching if Saw had any intention of going to the gallows. The second anyone took him safely out of this accursed town, he would make his attempts at escape.

“I meant what I said, I’m going to atone for my crimes lad, one way or another.” The bandit applied what he hoped was his most pitiful smile, the boy was too kind hearted for his own good, and even now Old Saw felt it was a valuable resource to be exploited.

The boy looked over him a moment before coming to some internal conclusion. He gingerly took a seat in the beaten up old chair, running a hand through his hair as he no doubt was struggling with what to say.

“Do you believe things happen for a reason?” the boy looked at him with earnest eyes, an honest question that took Old Saw aback.

“I’d rather hope not, because then the gods have a sick sense of humor.” The bandit replied after a beat.

The boy scratched at his head, his thoughts a mystery to the scoundrel. “Do you mind if I tell you a story?”

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere for a while lad, and your better company than the motes of dust.”

The boy smiled, though again without any joy in it. “The Laputa have a legend, that states that once every other generation or so, one of their own will be born wild with uncontrollable power. They cast this one out into the wild lest in its rages it destroyed the pack. They had done this for as long as Laputa had been Laputa. An entire pack turning against one of their own and leaving it to die.” Justin reclined back in his chair, as if trying recall every detail.

“One time though they couldn’t finish it off, not quite, and a foolish young cleric came upon its broken body and took pity on it. When the wolf was healed, it should by all rights have killed him, but it didn’t. Maybe it could appreciate a sign of kindness, maybe it just recognized a debt, in either case for one year the wolf traveled with the cleric, and when it returned to its pack that year later it was changed. All that power guided in temperance and wisdom, that wolf became the greatest leader the Laputa have ever known.”

Story finished Justin looked to Old Saw for his thoughts, the bandit huffed with derision. “The beasts should invest in some bards, the story could use a little touching up. Not even a maiden, or dragon to be had.”

The boy let out a dry laugh. “The cleric in the story was named Dunkott, and wolves have long memories, and little imagination. Once again one of them is wild, and once again a young cleric is supposed aid in their transformation.”

The codger could be slow on the uptake, but even he could grasp now the significance of all the exchanges the day before. “You have my sympathies, but why are you telling me this?”

Justin smiled but it wasn’t friendly. “Because while the Laputa are unchanging, the wild one has ideas.”

Saw waited for the joke, but it never came, and slowly his new lot in life began to dawn on him. “M’lord, may I ask why and how?”

Justin took this in stride, answering in measured tones as if practiced. “The why, is because, our wild one is a sore loser, and wishes to prove you will turn on me, because if humans can’t turn why should she.”

Forgetting everything else Saw was caught on one word. “She?!” which Justin blissfully ignored.

“The how is because, in the time we’ve been allotted the government’s we’ve spoken to have deemed this a fate worse than death.” He said rather too cheerily, and for the first time in a long time Saw knew true regret at his actions.

“Welcome to the living dead.” He offered his hand to the scoundrel among scoundrels, a butcher, a monster, offering him escape from hell by traversing its lowest pit.

“Can I wait for one of the garrisons instead?” Saw asked sheepishly.

“You come with us or she kills you now, cowardice being a perceived betrayal.”

Saw laughed for crying was right out, and following that there were no valid means for him to respond. Facing certain death or likely death, the survivor of survivors, a blaggard, a bully, a murderer and a monster shook his opposite’s hand. Gods have mercy on them.
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Re: Wolves of Dunkott

Postby TendoTwo » Mon Dec 03, 2012 7:00 am

In all honesty, I'm pretty confused about what happened.
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Re: Wolves of Dunkott

Postby kool kitty89 » Tue Dec 04, 2012 11:36 am

TendoTwo wrote:In all honesty, I'm pretty confused about what happened.

How so?

There were some major (IMO brilliant) twists in the end, but it was explained pretty well.

The only thing that seems confusing at all is the vagueness in describing the fate of Saw. I'm pretty sure the proposal was Saw joining the Dunkott people permanently. Very fitting IMO, a fate matching the nuances of that character. (Saw being a dirty rotten scoundrel, and all around pretty nasty guy with an equally sordid history, yet still characterized in such a way that the reader garners some sympathy towards him)
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Re: Wolves of Dunkott

Postby TendoTwo » Sat Feb 02, 2013 2:08 am

ARGH! Been meaning to reply to this and many other stories for a while now, I really feel like a heel putting it off for so long, especially for this one since I left such an abrupt comment which I meant to expand on later, sorry.

kool kitty89 wrote:
TendoTwo wrote:In all honesty, I'm pretty confused about what happened.

How so?

There were some major (IMO brilliant) twists in the end, but it was explained pretty well.


I re-read it to catch up again and noticed a line I had missed, namely, the one referring to the wild Laputa controlling all the other women to speak through them. Considering it seemed to be established that the Laputa could not speak human languages, yet it seemed like that wild one was, I was pretty confused just who was talking most of the time. (I also now realize that Saw was talking to Caliburn and not the boy when he made that gambit to save himself).

Although I am still confused about the ending, even if the conversation before made sense now.

It seemed to imply that the boy for some reason was also evil like Saw? I really didn't understand that clearly, as well as what he means by "the wild one has ideas" and what that means for Saw other than he will have to accompany the boy and wild Laputa now.

The boy's reasons for seeming to refuse to want to help her were also kinda vague, considering how he was willing to help everybody else.

These aren't criticisms by the way, just answering your question, I feel like there is a lot I just plain didn't get that other did.

The attitude, once you realize how she was acting, was rather unique for such a plot though, wasn't expecting her to be the one who would be trying to convince the boy to stay with her and the boy have given up on her, usually its the other way around.
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