Willow: The Lost Daughters. ~ Chapter 3

Chapter 3 ~ Wolf bane.

Germania; City of Wolves.

Willow watched her opponents, sizing up her foes, heart pounding and mind full of regret. Coward. Anger was all the emotion she was allowed to feel, eyes still locked on her foes, she ignored the “smart” decisions, ignored what should’ve been the easy choice.

“I tell you what, let me pass and I won’t harm any of you.”

The mercs looked at each other and couldn’t believe their ears, at first they all laughed,—Crowd included.—before they realized that they were being severely underestimated.  Grins turned to frowns, veins popped and red skin was all they princess could see.

Egilhard didn’t feel as confident as his savior, although fire and determination lay resting within the boy. “Are you su—“

“If you want to be of any help go get my sword.” Willow growled, she knew that this fight wouldn’t last seconds if she was forced to fight them all without a weapon.—Not that she had she truly believed she could take them all on herself.

Egilhard ran into the demolished bar, moving through the puddles and wounded men until he reached a grim scene. Gut wrenched, a dose of a heavy system shock caused the kid to puke. Horrified by the reality of fighting and by his response to her tearing these mercs apart, Egilhard was hit by a dose of guilt, but pushed through as he knew that Willow needed her weapon a.s.a.p.  Mustering up his courage, the boy tried his best to remove the blade from the deceased man’s throat.

“You have no idea what you have stepped into, and now you will suffer for it.” The leader growled.

“So you will all take me at once, when I’m unarmed? What a bunch of—” Willow grabbed the handle of an incoming blade.

Countered by grabbing the merc by the throat, dropped him to the ground before she bent his elbow inwards, driving his blade through his throat. She rolled and used the newly granted blade to cut his incoming comrades leg, catching him as he fell and used him as a meat shield to protect herself from the incoming slashes. Two down, ten to go. Willow pushed the dead corpse onto his three comrades, rushed up a goon then kicked his shield before she jammed the blade through his plates.

She leapt back but had to leave the blade, gritting, she continued to back away from the remaining mercs. I can’t. .I can’t do this on m—Weak. Willow took a deep breath then whistled as she focused on surviving.

Egilhard stepped out to his new friend being kicked into a stall with three mercs following her. Branding a blade must have spooked the other mercs as they started chasing the boy as well. Frightened—Which was a natural response.—but bold the kid raised the heavy weapon.

“I don’t want any trouble!”

“Too late, you are helping this bitch and for that you will pay.” Said the bearded merc.

Willow stopped by a large barn, the crowded streets did nothing to help her navigate and with the mercs on her heel, she knew that she needed to move fast. Improvisation wasn’t her forte but she knew how to dabble in the gamble for life and death, so to her a bucket would serve as a self-defense weapon.  

The response she got was laughter from the goon, who swiped at her. His blade embedded the bucket and was returned a punch that decked him, the last thing he ever saw was her fist connecting with his face. The other two were now in trouble as Willow had gotten hold of a new weapon, the bucket-blade.  A long stare was shared between the foes before they engaged.

Screaming for dear life the boy fought to preserve his life, but it was to no veil. Having already been defeated in battle, all that was left for the mercs now was to beat the crap out of the kid and so they did. Kicking and punching Egilhard until one decided to drag him by the leg.

“Where are you taking him?” One of the mercs asked.

“I’m going to drown this punk for cutting me,” The bleeding goon said as he dragged the kid next to a water trough, he lifted the brunette’s head, chuckled. Then jammed his head into the water, struggling, the boy panicked. “Don’t worry kid, it’s all over soon.”

Willow pushed the last goon out of the barn, and then jammed the bucket-blade through his spine. Grinning, she looked back at her enemies, for a second she pondered about caring for Egilhards life and wondered if he would even serve her any purpose. She had already saved his life once and he was dying once again. Weak. Willow narrowed her eyes as she strode forward, she knew that it was almost time for the introduction of her guardian.

A bear roar interrupted the merc. “Holy shit! Boys prepare for the worst.”

The momentary disruption gave the boy enough time to pull his head out of the water which caught the attention of the goon. With a quick punch to the back of the head, he pushed the boy down into the trough and proceeded with his drowning attempt.

Crowd in awe, the five remaining mercenaries argued over the point of engaging adolescent. Believing that the money wasn’t worth the potential of being massacred, the fear was visible in their eyes. “You cowards aren’t fucking going anywhere! Kill that bitch now!” The leader shouted.

Bubbles easing, stress rising and a bear rushing, Tap caused a large section of the crowd to disperse. Willow blocked the first strike, causing the goons blade to stick to the bucket, freeing her sword, which was quick to pierce his ribs.  A block caused her to drop her new found blade and was forced to back up.

The bricked square was both an elegant sight and a busy one as well, crowds watching but no one engaging, not a single one intervening or helping the drowning kid. Her gut wrenched, she was sickened by the sight. Focus or die. She punched the engaging foe before she was forced into a carriage.—Carrying three bags of flour.—The third goon tried to slash downwards but only met the hard wood that clung to his blade.

Willow countered by slamming one of the heavy bags on the unsuspected foe, forcing him to release his blade and grab on to the flour. The princess cut the bag then kicked it, knocking the guard to the ground. Dust in the form of flour powder poofed, causing a large blind spot that reached five meters in all directions.

Willow was smart enough to block her sight and as she dashed towards Egilhard, she heard the crowd scream in terror as Tapferkeit pushed through, roaring as he crashed into the three guards, leaving the one drowning the boy and his two guards.

“Screw this, I’m not getting paid enough!” A frightened merc cried out.

“You will hold your fucking position!”

“She has a fucking bear! No-Way I’m fighting that!” The coward tossed his blade as he dashed through the terrified crowd.

Willow shut all emotions and dashed through the flour, her blade made it clean through the head of the mercenaries head, brutal, yet effective. She stopped his drowning attempt, and watched as his blood spewed out of the severed neckline, drenching the poor lad. She pulled him out of the trough and on to the brick ground, gasping for air she watching him fall on to his knees.

“Tha.—Thank you.” Egilhard couldn’t help but to start crying.

The hardened princess couldn’t stand watching such powerful emotion, especially not when she had grown past it, she couldn’t go back, she can never go back. Her eyes narrowed, piercing through the last remaining goon. Controlling her breath was one of the essential teachings passed down from her father, to appear as if fight doesn’t faze you.  “Leave now and you will live.”

“Please, do you think I’m just like the—“ Was his last words, Tap had already rushed up to his side and cowed down on his neck.

It was a brutal scene but one that she still watched, it was part of nature, she chuckled. See, victory. For once her thoughts didn’t attack her, she smiled for a brief second before her blue eyes wandered back down to the gasping boy. “Where’s my sword.”

Egilhard peered up, eyes watery, shocked, terrified and angry, all at once was visible. He cried out then pointed at the decapitated mercenary’s body. “He took it.”

Willow kicked the body over then picked up her father’s sword. “Thanks see you around.”

She walked up to her flour covered bear, blood and it’s natural black fur made it appear gruesome, but she knew that deep down, Tap would kind hearted and only killed those who threatened his master, his friend. She pet the bear then climbed on top. “Let’s go brother.” She gently tapped with her heels.

The surrounding crowd watched in awe, and shock, they had watched an adolescent take down a bar, taken out a rag-tag team of mercenaries and was now about to walk out with black bear. For some this sight was nigh impossible for their brains to comprehend and sent them drifting into the void, passing out on the curb next to the bears path.

“Easy there, brother.” She knew that the stares and terrified aura vibrations sent via their bodies was disturbing his sensation, they were connected like that.

The bear complied and continued up ahead.

“Wait . . . Wait for me!” Her eyes darted back to Egilhard, he dashed after the duo, breathing hard but still determined.

“I can—”

“I have no one, please! I want to help. I’d rather die doing something then nothing.” The boy cried out, seeking for adventure rather than poverty and who was she to deny a fellow countrymen.

If he truly wanted to assist in her quest then maybe he could be of service. Don’t get attached. Willow sighed, she couldn’t even enjoy getting a squire without her cynical thoughts engaging, sending her vibes spiraling downwards.

“Fine, but don’t slow me down.”

“Thank you!” The boy cheered up, he jogged next to the bear.—although he kept a bit of distance.

“You shouldn’t thank me, this quest will be your death.” Her eyes darted back to Egilhard, who smiled then passed out from extreme exhaustion caused by the near life and death event.

Her eyes rolled as the bear gave of a grunt that was similar to a chuckle. “I know right?”

Willow: The Lost Daughters. ~ Chapter 2

Chapter 2 ~ Bear on Wolf violence.

Germania; City of Wolves.

Another day another coin that was what Willow thought as she shouldered through the crowded streets. Her stature and outfit did nothing to discourage her thought pattern, nor did the surrounding citizens mind her appearance. In fact she spotted more alcoholics laid wasted on the ground, ruining their life drop by drop. Eyes sickened by the sight, gut wrenching as she couldn’t accept this new “society” they had been forced into.

During these two years, a lot had changed, from the way people used to live.—Gone from tribesmen to full on ants in symmetric squares.—Willow was sickened by the sheer thought of what her fellow countrymen had agreed to join. Cowards, the whole bunch of them. Willow strode with confidence, her guardian waiting outside the village like the good bear he was, while the adolescent took heavy steps towards the bar.

“Hey! Leave me alone!” A squeaking voice reverberated through the crowded bricked streets.

“What are you going to do you punk!? You are such a punk Egilhard.” An adolescent male voice followed.—Voice cracking as if he was going through puberty.

“I will show you!” Scuffle could be heard before shouts followed.

Letting a sigh escape her lips, the princess couldn’t let her people fight in-house, pausing her quest for vengeance and chose settle the skirmish. Pushing through the crowd, she spotted three teenagers surrounding a smaller adolescent. A tan boy dressed in leather and white pelt, the brown haired 5 foot adolescent could barely stand a chance against one of the larger teens, but against three? No way. So, Willow intervened.

“Who the hell are you?” The large teen asked the princess of the bear tribe.

A grunt was the respond he was received, the blond warrior didn’t want to spare another second wasted. She knew that words could settle this, but these boys were men of Wolves, she could clearly tell by their markings.


“Oh, Egilhard is this your girlfriend? Coming to save you? Bahaha! You bear people are the same! Worthless bunch of—“ He barely got to finish his sentence before his teeth flew of out his mouth. 

Her forehead already connected with the bully, her sword wanted to make its way towards his throat, but the thought of murdering a teen was pulling on her heart strings. Coward. Willow cursed under her breath.

An unsuspected punch caught her by surprise and sent her on her bum. Shaking her head in confusion, she watched Egilhard tackle a bully, while the last standing started walking towards Willow. Gritting her teeth, she growled as she rushed towards the similar sized teen. Brawling on the ground, they both swung, aiming to wound the other until Willow managed to grab a rock, smacking it against his ribs before she busted his already ugly face. 

Egilhard groaned as he finished his fight, Willows eyes still towards the knocked out foe. Heart pounding, tunnel vision focused on aggression. With each deep breath she returned to her centered self, seconds later she realized that a large crowd was spectating, even applauding the action. Confused by their reaction, she rose then darted straight towards the bar.

“Wait! Lady. . Wait up!” Egilhard shouted.

It was too vain, she had already kicked in the bar door, sword unsheathed and ready for combat. The barkeep looked at the female warrior, then at the mercenaries. “Don’t even think about it! I’m here to find out about the roman army that attacked the bear tribes.” The princess finally spoke, eyes trained on the mercs but speaking directly to the barkeep.

“Well, that’s a tall order coming from some unknown teenager wielding a weapon.”

“Yeah well if I were you I’d start talking before I wreck up this place and force you to talk.”

The barkeep started laughing and so did the rest of his companions. “Listen princess, I don’t know who you think you are but you can’t just come here and make threats you can’t keep.”

Egilhard bumped into Willow at that moment, then yanked on her pelt. “He is right miss, we shouldn’t disturb these gentlemen.”

“Shut up—Final warning!” Turning her attention from the pesky kid over to the barkeep.

“Alright, I warned you. First to take her down gets a free drink, get her lads!”

“With pleasure!” Some shouted simultaneously.

Three mercs and two drunks rose of their chairs, each wielding a weapon and some sort of armor. –Ranging from metal scraps down to plain cotton.—Willow cursed under her lips as she grinned, Egilhard was confused by the sight and immediately started to back away. Willow on the other hand stepped forwards, kicked the nearby table onto the closest drunk. Dodged his partner’s swipe and countered by cutting of his arm.

Blood splattered, covering her right side of her face, still grinning. “You can all still live, I don’t want to kill my own people.” Willow got serious, her tone changed back to the brash and ruthless version she donned.

“You have lost it haven’t you?” The barkeep growled.

Dodging the skilled swords-man slice, then blocked his comrades, Willow chose to punch the drunk then defend herself, rather than attack the skilled merc. She sent the punk flying over a table, placing him out of the combat at the moment. 

Focused on the foes in front of her, clearly skilled warriors working simultaneously to find a weak spot in her fighting skill. Had it not been for her superior fighting skills and strength, they would’ve easily defeated the teen. Clashing then head butting a mercenary, she was quick to stick her blade in between his plates and into his guts.

She wanted to laugh, she knew that she was getting closer towards her goal, yet the fight wasn’t over. A swing almost clipped her head, if not for her intuition. A counter swipe cut her foes head off and with a quick spin, she clashed with the remaining mercenary. Eyes locking, and still grinning, Willow knew how this battle would end, she could read it in the cowards eyes. 

The barkeep crashed into the shelf behind him, backing away in fear, while Egilhard cheered on. “I warned you.” Willow pushed the goon back, jumped back then leaped forward, slashing downwards. Using her speed and force to crash through the clash and cut into the mercenaries shoulder.

The mercenary wouldn’t give up, still standing with a blade embedded in his shoulder. Willow knew that if he swung for her chest then she would parish, pulling her blade downwards, grabbed his weapon arm then sweep kicked his feet, causing him to fall on her blade. Protruding out of his throat, the barkeep shocked, while Willow marched forward. 

Grabbed his shirt, placed her feet on the counter then mustered all her strength to pull the obese barkeep, both crashed on the table behind her, smashing it as they landed on the hard pavement.

“Wait, wait!” The barkeep cried out.

Willow pushed herself off the ground, punched the man, then stepped on his neck. “Whooh! You are a bad ass!” Egilhard cheered.

The barkeep didn’t share the same excitement. “Start talking!” Willow pressed her knee around his neck.

“Okay, okay! All I know is that there were four commanders who worked together with a polish band of raiders. I swear that’s all I know!”

“What do you mean polish band of raiders?”

“Exactly what it sounds like!”

“Tell me which direction I can find them in.”

“East!” With that answered, Willow stomped his neck, causing him to black out.

Egilhard gave her thumbs up, grinning from ear to ear, eyes glistening with joy. If only the surrounding crowd shared that enthusiasm, it seems that back up had arrived in the form of a rag tag army of mercs, there to save their comrades skins. “Who are they?” Willow asked the kid as she passed him.

“The Black Band, loyal to no-one but money.”

“Then they die for nothing as well.”

“Are you going to engage them as well?” Egilhard asked.

“No, my beef doesn’t lie with them, but if they insist on standing in my way then they leave me with no choice.” Willow wasn’t the one to talk, in fact this was the longest she had spoken in the last two years, and it was starting to annoy her.

Large masses of citizens and warriors alike surrounded the bar, each excited over seeing action and terrified at the same time. Willow’s aura frightened the people, yet at the same time intrigued them. Eyes wild like a ferocious bear, darting between the twelve mercenaries hiding within the crowd. “The Black Band you say?” Willow asked.

“Yeah.” Egilhard answered.

“All belonging to The Black Band, give up now or die with your comrades.”

“—It was their commanders.” Egilhard pulled on her pelt.

“What? So I killed their leaders?”

“Yes.”

“Give in while you still have the chance.” Willow chuckled as she turned around to face her foes.

They all laughed at her, even the citizens that had witnessed her previous victories, even they knew that she had a limit. The real question was whether or not she knew her limits.  

Willow: The Lost Daughters. ~ Chapter 1

Chapter 1 ~ Blood shall be spilt.

Germania; The black forest.

Dawn fell over Germania, the thick clouds had hidden the sun all day, only the moon light peered with its white reflective beams and cold chilly winds crept over the quiet forest that belonged to the proud barbarian tribe knows as 'Blood of the Bears'. With their brutish agenda of living one with nature and their insistence of using animals on their raids. Their persistent clashes with different tribes had given them a name the Roman Empire feared, a name they wanted to destroy.

So it was almost self-explanatory that one day, an army clad in red would stride in over their land and demand that they lay down their arms and join society, to become one with civilization and leave behind their beast-like way of living or die like the rest. One side saw the other as a reminder of the past while the other saw the mighty empire as a misanthropic threat and to nature as well.--No wonder neither side could come to an agreement.

War naturally broke out, and casualties were spilt on both sides, with the Romans being on the winning side, they chose to end the tribe known as 'Blood of the Bears' once and for all. Their plan was to weaken the resisting barbarians might, and strike fear in the heart of the savages that they were. To rip out the heart of the metaphorical bear the uncivilized had sought protection from.

And on that day, when the great battle ensued. Willow fourteen year old princes, belonging to the proud barbarians of the north, daughter of Haggard the Thirsty; A mighty barbarian which Caesar planned to execute himself. Prepared to dress for battle, most of the warriors had left the village and headed for war. Leaving the children, sick, old and Willow of course. The strongest bears had been sent to assist, leaving only a hand few to help fend if worst came to worst.

Willow, the blonde hair adolescent didn't care if she wasn't allowed to fight. Nothing was going to stop her from making her tribe proud, with her large stature, she knew that she wasn't fit for a stay at home life, she wanted to seek great adventures such as the ones her old man told. She knew that determination was the key and persistency would eventually give her a loop hole.

The Roman army strode in to war. Lives started to falter when the sun had risen behind the clouds and when it had set, the two armies had settled their scores. With one side losing severely, leaving but one sole survivor, a young princess who had no business being in the battlefront anyway. This young adolescent had chosen to ignore all rules and conventions set by her own father.

Willow had snuck out of her tent that eventful morning and hiked all the way to the battlefield, to see her great and mighty father defeat the little man’s army from south. To her surprise, she was met with death and devastation. The beautiful forests where she and many others had grown up around were left in ruins, corpses pouring out enough life fluids to build a man-made swamp. Shields, weapons and bodies were all the eye could see. The black forest was covered in red snow, chill winds, wolf cries and screeching crows.

In front of her laid the powerful Bear tribe warriors in ruins, her mind not allowing such a sight snapped at the thought of her people being defeated in the hands of misanthropic goons in red armor. Her father was nowhere to be seen while his personal guard’s flag was broken into pieces. Heart pounding and eyes darting side to side, in search for any indication, any clues as to whether her father was alive or not.

When her eyes set towards the dark of the forest, she knew, deep inside she knew, that if she went to search for him then she would only find a corpse of what was once a great mind. Yet her body couldn't stop pushing itself to continue the investigation. Tapferkeit, a massive black bear, 3 meters long, foul sharp teeth and a stern yet cute faced bear; that worked as Willows personal guard, followed suit. Watching and carefully making sure that nothing lunged at her great majesty.

"Vater!" She called out for her father, voice quivering and eyes watery.

Her bear pelt and leather garment helped keep the cold at bay, though her hands were drenched in both blood and snow. Tapferkeit 'Tap' had helped her take down singular Romans that had strayed of the pack, meaning her young hands were already sullied with the blood of living humans. Willow didn't mind the thought and pushed through to find her father, continuing until the trail lead down to a small creek.

"Vater! Where art thou?" She shouted, blade in hand and Tap by her side.

It was once she reached the riverbed that she spotted the large body leaning over a large tree trunk. Next to the giant rested a white bear, beaten and bloodied laid Zorn, Haggards personal bear and protector.  Tap was quick to run up to the fellow bear, while Willow rushed to her father’s side.

"Vater! Answer me please!" She cried out, but it was already too late.

His body had already gone cold by the time she had reached him. Most of his life fluid had already drained the body, which left him in a blue-ish state, a sight no one should have to see.--Especially when it was your own parent.--Her mind snapped once again, this time shouting until her voice cracked. She fell to the side and zooned out, her eyes staring into the heavens but her mind was elsewhere.

"Noooooo!" Willow cried out, drenched in her father’s blood. Tap roared to sympathize with his partner, mourning the loss of a great leader.

Germania; The black forest; Willows cave.

Two years had passed since the Roman theologically extinction the Bear tribes, they continued to plow through the barbarians resistance. Planting their seeds as they continued to massacre and force their ideologies on the poor defenseless citizens of Germania; a country that was changing drastically since the Romans placed their greedy hands over the beautiful forests, tearing up the dirt and placing beautifully designed bricks.

Bricks that worked as a road, and that road were like any road they built. The famous roads that all lead to Rome, the city where a tiny man lived, a man who claimed that he ruled all that where behind his red army's mighty falang. Sending orders and telling the citizen of Germania the new rules of this called "society" with new systems in place, with a lot of promises and wishes. That's how Willow saw the Roman Empire, those who tore through her families lands.

For two years she has lived on her own, training relentlessly as her body grew in stature. She could feel her strength build up as her mind poised with thoughts of revenge, but she didn't even know who struck her father down, which meant that she had pent up rage that she didn't know how to fuse. Tap had been by her side the whole time and worked as a stress ball,--nothing is as awesome as petting your own bear.--and as a sole surviving family member. Zorn had passed by the grave injuries he had sustained and was now carried around by Willow as a reminder of her past.

The white bear pelt, hood, jaw bones that encased her face, facial scars--received from hunting down drunken Roman soldiers.--and large stature struck fear in any soldier standing in her path.--That and Tap was also pretty intimidating.-- The last two years had led to one singular point, to a barkeep who withheld important information. She had dodged her roman persecutors,  hiding in caves as she pushed forward in her quest for revenge. The six foot teenager rode her bear with pride, showing her foes that she wasn't going to get shut down. Although she knew that it came with a great risk, but she lead a life without cause but violence, any violence would do because that was the cause of her life.

Through the thick forest, fresh greenery was all she could smell,--that and the bear of course and don't let me tell you what a bear smell like.--until the scent of city struck her. Sweat and baked goods, both teasing the stomach and irritating her sensitive nose. Mind boggling over whether she should go through with her quest today or not, to stride in with a bear in a Roman city meant business, especially when you appeared like a damn barbarian, but her ego told her that she only had one path which was set to her by the commanders that fought her tribe, by the leader who sent out the orders.

Her eyes set on the beautiful yet disgusting brick formed city, people both walking about and laying sprawled over the ground, luckily night had already set so the Roman guards didn't mind the filthy drunks. Willow swallowed her grief, disgusted, she continued on. Entering the city she believed she never would set foot on ever again, the very city which her family was killed and buried. With fury fueling her spirit, Willow set out to find this barkeep with the valuable information and damn anyone who would try to stand in her way, least they wanted to taste her blade. Gritting and growling, the woman punched a nearby tree before she proceeded to wander the bricked streets of City of Wolves.