Len Gilbert - The Furred Reich

“Is this it?” Master Sepp asked Kasha.

“Yes sir it is. Even the wolves of this region don’t know who built this offering. We should tread carefully.”

“Right,” Sepp replied. “Strap on these grenades. Kristiyan, there are no bullets left, but take my Mauser anyway.”

That there were no bullets left didn’t matter because Kristiyan didn’t actually know how to operate the hand cannon. Sepp’s metallic crossbow clanked as he lead the other two inside the steeple ruins. Afternoon sunlight spilled into the sanctuary, and already some slender Greenskins were inside strategically placing torches. One of them leaped to attention when they heard Sepp’s footsteps.

“Ah! Um. You Master Sepp?”

“I am. Are you Oxbane?”

“No, no. Oxbane be here soon. He nearly here. We scouting party.”

“Why do you need a scouting party in lands you’ve already conquered?”

“Ah-um. Things here, you know. It really not something you worry about. We mean no harm today,” the Greenskin stumbled on but parroted the words anyway, “Oxbane wanna make alliance.”

Sure enough, Oxbane was close behind. He also did not look quite like a warrior Greenskin.

Oxbane wore a white cap which mushroomed out to a flat top. His white flowing attire looked equally dignified for a Greenskin. Oxbane handed a thick book to an underling who filed the text away.

“Master Sepp, your wolves are quite the warriors. It is an honor to finally see them,” the older Greenskin called out.

Oxbane eyed Kristiyan’s strange cannon, then glanced at the belt of explosives strapped to Kasha’s waist.

“…And such weapons you’ve taught them to use. It’s almost as if you’ve dropped in from another world,” the Greenskin envoy smirked.

“What can I do for you today Oxbane? I believe it was you who called us here.”

“Yes, yes. The Great Orc was very impressed with your tribe, so let me show you what he had in mind.”

Oxbane strode over to an altar in the back and instructed his two escorts to sit down on chopped up logs. Sepp’s party clanked up behind, and Oxbane laid a parchment map down between both parties.

Sepp immediately recognized the line which marked the beginning of the plains. Further east, toward the map’s edge, loomed the Orel Mountains and Cottonwine Lands. The map had red x’s marking what seemed to be the names of tribes. Sepp recognized only Goldgrass and Shattered Paw. He also recognized Balaton Spring at the Great Forest’s south eastern edge.

In the western forested area, the Greenskins put in a black ‘blot’ which represented the portion in the hands of the Lightning Rune Tribe. The black blotch was topped with a white ‘SS.’ From the map, it looked like Sepp’s tribe controlled three-fourths of the Great Forest and the Northern Swamps. In reality his tribe controlled less than half. The ‘Khanate’ had only a chunk of forest remaining, but possessed a vast territory opening up in the plains and covering most of the map beyond the forest.

“I’ll tell you one thing, Master Sepp,” Oxbane croaked. “You really did surprise us. The Great Orc had to call off the invasion of a powerful kingdom far to the south and east of here. Thanks to your counterattack.”

Oxbane chuckled, “We aren’t so adapt at forest warfare. We had a tough time in the north east as well. Didn’t think Wolves could put up such a grand attack. The Great Orc was impressed with you. Normally we ask for tribute in exchange for peace. But we’ll make an exception this time. He asks for a 100-year agreement. We live side-by-side from now on. In so doing your troops may join us in war if they like, as an ally tribe or even as mercenaries. Your tribe may share in our spoils, and we will respect your borders beyond the Khanate.”

“Well, this seems like quite an offer.” Sepp replied. “What borders did he have in mind?”

“These right here,” Oxbane replied. “We will cede the remaining forests without a fight. But we get the plains which we fought for and won.”

Sepp looked to Kristiyan, who was already shaking his head at the offer. This deal would put an end to Sepp’s ambitions to unite all wolven tribes, and his plan to one day challenge the Khanate’s power on the open plains. This was a compromise, but a comprimise that would also give Sepp a free hand to dominate the whole Great Forest in the west, even the other furres that lived there. Sepp had little use for the lapines and foxen he had seen, but he understood that this deal would bring those furres into his ‘sphere.’

On the other hand, an all-out fight against the vast Khanate would be a gamble, and a gamble that could mean disaster for him and the wolves who trusted him. Kristiyan seemed eager to take that risk, but Sepp already knew better. To put a people’s entire fate on the line. He’d been through that before.

“Tell us more, Oxbane. Say we accept. And I’m not totally convinced. I’m seriously thinking about it but I want to make sure of a few things first.”

“And what is that?” the Greenskin canted his head.

“The Shattered Paw, and all the eastern forest tribes. I want them all returned to me. Prisoners, civilians, even horses. I noticed many villages on the way here were nearly empty.”

Oxbane scoffed.

“Now I know you are not from our world, my dear Master Sepp. To ask that from the Khanate is to ask for the impossible. We’ll give you the horses, and you can have the prisoners back,” he chortled, “but you’ll be disappointed by how few of the latter remain.”

Sepp’s face turned red at that, and Kristiyan snarled at the lathery envoy across the table.

“Fine. Just give us the horses and whichever warriors remain. And let the villagers come home. They didn’t deserve to be moved in the first place.”

Oxbane laughed in Sepp’s face.

“Ghah! No. The Great Orc won’t agree to that, I am sure. The young women folk of those tribes are already carrying our young ones.”

“That’s enough,” Kristiyan barked and stood up, “you’re all going to die!”

Sepp grabbed Kristiyan by the scruff of his neck and placed the tall wolf back down onto the log.

“Since you’re new to the world, my dear Sepp, let me inform you. We species of the Khanate. We have a problem. Few women. For some of us it’s about one in six. For some other species, as bad as one-in-ten. We must keep what we have, or male clans fight with each other. The wolven females are one with us now and—”

“Just be quiet.” Sepp returned. “That is unacceptable, and we’ll fight to the death and drive you right past these mountains. To wherever it is you came from.”

Sepp planted a finger on the pointy Orel Range. Oxbane shook his head.

“What a shame that is. You know, the Raiders you fought were just a scouting force. Soon you will face the Great Orc’s invasion. Many times larger than what you’ve seen. We hate the forests, but we’ll come in anyway and exterminate your tribe. And just to make sure no threat ever comes from the west again, we’ll carry all the remaining she-wolves back to the plains and couple them all.”

Sepp stood up, put on his deerskin hat and tapped his crossbow.

“I’m holding you personally responsible for all this, Oxbane. And when we’ve destroyed your Raiders, I’m going to personally end your life.”

Oxbane sneered and chuckled, “You’ll never get the chance, dear Sepp.”

Hex looked on as the military galley sailed closer and closer to their cramped vessel. It was the Deltians, no doubt, and they were going to press everyone on this boat into some kind of servitude, except himself, but that all depended on a few things. The decision ahead was a hard one to make. Hiding his identity was risky. But if what he suspected about the rulers of Deltia were true, then there was only one way Hex’s journey could continue. As the galley pulled them in, Hex dropped his bag and tucked two of his three tails into his trouser pant. Several boats came up and took passengers off the wave-beaten patrol boat and onto sturdier ground.