80 Vol 2. pt. 17 Patch 3.0: Opening Ceremony (1/2)

There is nothing more that Fenrir wants right now than to charge over to Nell, somehow break through thirty of Ull's armed and experienced guards, and free Nell from the man that is dragging her back into captivity.

But he knows that is impossible.

This may be a game, but it isn't the kind where a hero can just recklessly charge through a crowd of enemies and somehow survive.

Each and every one of those guards is likely stronger than him, and there's also the fact that they're all heavily armored and armed. Fenrir has nothing but some boots, pants, and a shirt on.

”That's that missing girl… she was on your ship?” the dark elf asks.

She looks at Fenrir and sees clenched fists and gritted teeth. His tail is raised still behind his form.

Fenrir catches Cassiel and Serra in the corner of his vision. Cassiel is keeping Serra held back behind some crates further up on the docks, hiding themselves from the guards' eyes.

Bonekraka, Corwin, Oleander, and Tabitha are tied by their wrists and ankles, sitting on the ground next to each other, surrounded by some of the city's own guards at the front of the pier.

At least everybody is… everybody – where's—

”I told you to stay down!” the man dragging Nell shouts before using his free leg to try and kick the rocky hound latching onto his other leg off.

It hurts the man more than it hurts Rock, but another one of the guards comes up with a heavy hammer and swings it into Rock's side.

Chips of Rock's body get shattered off from the side of her body as she's sent skidding back across the wooden pier, almost falling into the water, but digging her claws into the pier to stop herself from falling off.

”That poor thing… but why was that girl on your ship?” the dark elf asks, looking at Fenrir.

He isn't there.

She looks back to where the guards are gathered just in time to catch Fenrir trying to push his way through them.

”Let me through!” he shouts, his voice full of rage as he desperately tries clawing his way through the men. ”Don't you fucking tou—”

An armored fist slams into Fenrir's chest. He can hear something crack as the air gets knocked out of him.

But he refuses to let this stop him.

Fenrir glares at his attacker and snarls. His snarl is just as guttural as that of a feral wolf's, and it is accompanied by furrowed brows and hate-fueled eyes in addition to bared fangs ready to sink into the guard's flesh.

Even though the guard knows he's most likely stronger, he still takes a step back from Fenrir's intimidation.

But he doesn't step back far enough.

Fenrir breaks free from the men who just grabbed onto him and swipes his right hand at the guard's face!

Sharpened claws protruding from the tips of Fenrir's fingers shred the guard's face. Fenrir can't see just the result of his attack that well, but anybody with traumatic content enabled can.

Fenrir knows that there is no way he can win this, or even hope of accomplishing anything, without fully giving into his feral instincts.

The wolf rampages through the guards on the pier.

Rock looks ready to join him when he catches a glimpse of her through the many guards, but the look in his eyes demands that she stays back. She doesn't want to, and she whines to show it, but she obeys by limping back onto The Shoebill.

”The fuck is your problem?!” one of the guards shouts at Fenrir.

Fenrir turns his attention to the man shouting and is about to lunge at him when he feels something embed itself into his back.

He turns his head just enough to see a steel axe head sticking into his back.

He falls to his knees when it's pulled out.

Even with only fifty percent of pain enabled, he wants to double over in pain. This is the worst pain he has felt in-game thus far.

Feeling it completely pulls him out of his feral rampage.

His vision is almost entirely black now.

He looks down at his hands. They're covered in blood, and all he sees are regular fingers when he could have sworn he had claws just a moment ago.

Looking over the rest of himself, he can see several places where he was slashed and stabbed going by the fact that blood is running out of him in those places.

Three of the nearby guards he can see have been mutilated either at their faces or necks.

Fenrir spits out whatever he can feel between his teeth. Looking down at it, he sees that it's an elongated ear.

He can't even remember being this injured nor attacking any guards other than the first one whose face he clawed.

”A woman's beard, a mountain's roots – Gleipnir, bind the fen-dweller once more,” a man says from behind Fenrir. The moment the incantation is over, Fenrir feels something thin yet impossibly strong tie around his wrists and ankles. His first instinct is to try and break free from the binds.

He can't even begin to pull them apart.

”Two verses? This prick isn't even worth one. Why don't we just kill him?” another guard asks.

”Because I would rather meet the one to steal away my prize,” Ull says, walking through the crowd that makes space for him.