Witch's Marsh Don't you remember when you were young, and you wanted to set the world on fire?

Leaving was the last thing Glaukos wanted to do. Leaving meant giving in to defeat; it meant everything he had done for Rivenwood and for Druid was actually for nothing. The betrayal burned through the last of his attachment to the woman and her children, which he suspected had been part of the reason for her outburst—women weren't to be trusted. They were unstable by nature, and he had let himself fall victim to the season by laying with both Druid and Heda. He should go back, he should leave forever. There was too much anger in Glaukos to make sense of anything else he might be feeling or thinking.

He raged, he ran.

There was nothing he could do to change things now. Druid was hurt because of her own stupidity; did she really think he would stand there and accept teeth against his throat? And Fiona—how much had she seen? How much had she heard? And without him there to clarify things (as if he needed to justify anything! The ungrateful bitches—) the story would spin out of control again.

His fists punched holes in the earth. His body cleaved a path through mud. Soon he was up to his chest in wetland, and fought against that too.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

Mae didn't like the wetlands much anymore. She thought of Moss each time she visited. It'd been weeks since she'd last heard that voice, but at times she still feared it.

Perhaps it was that fear which led her here again.

But she wasn't alone this time. A man, huge and storming through the marsh as if on a mission. Mae tensed, hiding among the undergrowth and watching him with an instinctive wariness. For now she said nothing to announce herself. Who knew if he could be trusted?

He should go back. He should go back and make his case to Druid. No, why? What would be the point of that? She hated him. Anselm and Etienne had so easily turned her against him. It didn't matter that Etienne was going to leave when she needed him, and Glaukos had been the one to make certain he stayed. It didn't matter that Anselm had intruded upon Rivenwood; Glaukos had defended their home and somehow that had been the wrong move. It didn't even matter that, after being told off for it, he had left Etienne alone.

Then the girls went missing—and what was Glaukos supposed to do then? Leave Rivenwood to hunt them down himself, for a woman he didn't have any connection to? He had tried to send Anselm, and he should have known better—no, he did know better. The little shit had probably gone running straight to the sisters. Glaukos had wanted to instill the fear of god in that boy (it had worked for Glaukos once) and instead—

On and on it went, endlessly. Every wound collected over the past months surfacing now as he raged within the marsh, revived to be studied. Glaukos still saw nothing wrong with what he'd done to them. He hadn't been perfect either—obviously he was too heavy-handed for these soft-hearted women, or the healer boy...

He raged. His bear-like figure caught in the mud and weighed down by his storming thoughts and the physical limitations of all the water and the mud physically grabbing at him. He didn't notice the shadow until he'd ploughed quite a gash through the marsh, and as he saw the girl he spun to glare at her, breathing heavily from all the exertion.

At first glance he thought it was Fiona and he shouted, What, not far enough for you?

He pivoted with a few squelching steps so that he was facing the shape, and only then did he recognize it was someone smaller than Fiona—likely younger—and not someone he knew at all. You'd think that would earn a quick apology but it wasn't like Glaukos to apologize for anything.

Mae was glancing around to be sure she hadn't missed any signs of pursuit when the man shouted at her. She flinched. What the hell? She rose from her crouch with hackles bristling, ears flat atop her skull.

He was definitely being followed — or had been before. Unless his pursuer was very slow? Mae didn't care either way.

Pick another direction, asshole. My pack's that way, She spat, lips peeling back to show her teeth. He was big and looked mean, but Mae liked to think she could be pretty mean, too. Particularly when her pack's security was at stake.

What was he doing? Everything was falling apart; Glaukos sloshed a few more angry steps through the marsh before finally reaching some sort of limit. The stranger beyond him—and he recognized now it wasn't Fiona, just some girl—shouted a threat and flashed her teeth, but Glaukos had already recognized the futility of the exchange and wasn't even watching her.

Forget it. He wasn't taking orders from anyone anymore.

Glaukos pulled at one of his muddied limbs and felt the tug of muddy suction. As he resigned himself to his fate as a bog beast for the time being, he was forced to take a breath. His lungs pulsed as he stood there panting and angry; the fur along his spine remained serrated where it wasn't slick with marsh grime.

He stared off at the faraway mountains which loomed; then he swung his head north to stare at the hazy red band of color lingering there, which was the Maplewood. As he drew one more step free, then another, Glaukos began to escape the hold of the mud.

If he meandered towards Swiftcurrent he neither noticed or cared.

He hardly paid her any mind. Instead he stood for a time, staring off in different directions as if she wasn't there at all. He was unhinged, Mae was sure.

And when he moved again, his path was aimed toward Swiftcurrent Creek. Briefly Mae considered howling for her packmates — but no, she couldn't do that. Arric would come. Maybe her father would even answer the call, and for what? Another fight, another tragedy.

She could handle this herself.

Mae was quick and light on her feet, not so hindered by the mud as she lunged for the stranger's retreating form. But she knew her disadvantages; she knew how easily this could turn deadly for her. It didn't matter. She needed to do this. She wouldn't be helpless again.

Glaukos wasn't fully freed of the mud but he had found a path that would draw him out of the worst of it, given some effort. It was better to use his rage as fuel against the pull of the mud; but he didn't get quite far enough before the dark shape of the girl came streaking close, as if she knew where best to plant her feet. Maybe she had grown up here? That wasn't the point.

She went for him with teeth, and as he always did, Glaukos reacted as quickly as his heavy-set body allowed. It wasn't quick enough to deflect the snap of her jaws as she grabbed at him—and while it stung, Galukos knew he was better off seeking solid ground before retaliating. She tore at him with those quick bites, and as she moved around him Glaukos pulled free of the mud finally.

He bellowed as he spun then to match her fangs with his grimace of warning: Back off, kid.

Did she have a death wish?

Maybe she did have a death wish.

But Mae was tired of never being able to control anything. She just wanted this one thing, this one psycho to fuck off out of her valley. Was that too much to ask? She leapt back as he spun to yell at her.

I said pick another fucking direction, Mae snarled. Unless he was planning to stomp right through the creek, he would need to. Not that she would let him get that far.

At no point in Glaukos' life had he ever had control of it.

Growing up beneath the one eye of Merrick.

Protecting Avicus as they grew, as commanded.

Serving Germanicus.

Druid.

This last demand flew from the mouth of a girl he did not know, protective of a place he had never heard of. The look on her face was the same as Druid's had been.

You women, he slurred between his teeth as he rose to his full height, mud be damned; —need to learn— he was lunging for her; throwing himself directly in her path with his freight-train weight adding incredible momentum—to be seen and not heard.

Glaukos' body devoured the space as he charged for her.

The displacement of rage was all he felt, red was all he could see; and his teeth sought purchase in the flesh of the innocent.

This time he would not hold back—if he caught the girl with any sort of decent grip, he would pull her to pieces.

wanna do dice roll or ...?

Akavir had missed many moments in Mae’s life—the scars that littered her body was testament of this. Each notch a mark of his failure—just the same as Lilitu’s missing eye. Of Arielle, Jakub and Nicodem’s disappearance.

So when a mountain of a man went to strike his daughter, there was no other thought from the father as he ushered a savage snarl, his own muscled form coming to barrel into the side of the man and knock him from his course of attack—his jaws aiming to punish while held low, to keep his throat protected—

—but most importantly, to drive the man away from Mae, and stop him with his own punishing fangs seeking the throat and blood of a mountain.

I rolled a 9 for Mae's injuries so anything goes except death. As far as the outcome, I'm good with whatever yall decide

Seen and not heard.

She was going to fucking kill him. That was the only thought in her head as the massive wolf charged for her. Mae didn't flinch from his approach. She held fast until the last moment, then ducked away —

only for her father to take her place.

Fuck!

And now it was about more than just herself. She hadn't wanted this — but there was no time for thought, no time to do anything but lunge again for the deranged giant. This time she didn't plan to let go, even if his teeth found her.

Rolled failures for his attack and defense rolls! (4 + 4)

In his rage he sought to grab for the girl. He did not see the man's shape as the second wolf appeared; not until he was already closing the distance to her, and reaching with his fangs.

The mud weighed him down. The rage made his aim falter more than it should have, given his training. The wild, manic style of Glaukos' attack was something new and loose, and dangerous.

He felt the sensation of teeth cutting his skin and roared, pulling, thrashing; he saw the man now and judged him a larger threat by virtue of his age and gender, in that split-second. The girl held fast, the man closed in.

Glaukos bled, and roared, and failed.

Rolled a defense of 17 and an attack of 15. Assuming Glaukos is mostly slower from the mud as per previous post but can adjust if needed! <3

In a moment’s blur three dark shapes collided into a fit of corruption. Akavir’s surprise rush had given him an advantage that he expertly wove before him—in his own years of battle and tactician, nothing had ever been more important in this very moment for him to not make a mistake—not when he realized that Mae’s attacker was one of the largest wolves he had come across.

But size and density did not parry well in this moment before of the marsh—and while his teeth found purchase to the mudslick man, he knew it imperative to keep moving—to keep the man’s crushing jaws following him, in hopes it would allow the marsh mud to suck him further with him shocking move.

His ears were slick upon his skull—teeth of the man scoring across his forelimb, close to his shoulder. As such, Akavir twisted once more, his own teeth aiming to seek the tender flesh of the man’s side and stomach—for now, he could not get close enough to his throat or face.

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Leaving it vague so you can decide how much damage is done, Tala!
Rolled a 14 for defense and a 12 for attack

Against her opponent's lifetime of training, alongside her father's years of experience, all Mae had was a brief career in crude, desperate survival. It wasn't much. But it had taught her a few things.

Primarily: nothing was off limits. The only rule was to win. So while Akavir played it safe from the front, Mae went for the quickest way to hurt the man. As far as she knew, it was located between his legs — and if her teeth struck true, he would never take pleasure from a woman again. It was only fair.

A defense of 12 (vs Mae's attack), and a critical failure of 1 (vs Akavir). For crit fails I usually try to write up a huge blunder or an injury, but I gotta run to work so you get this instead—I will however accept one maim/injury from Akavir (you decide what the injury is in your post).

What limited attention Glaukos could utilize in this moment of red-eyed searing rage focused on the man, so when the girl slipped her way around and under, he almost missed it. His parries with the man continued until he felt the warmth of breath at his groin and in a moment of pure masculine panic, Glaukos donkey-kicked and tried to wheel his hindquarters out of range of the little bitch.

In the process of doing that, Glaukos shouldered in to the man and managed to defend himself; he couldn't tell if his heavy kick landed on the girl's open jaw, her face, her chest, or anything—but he did feel something connect and he did force the girl away from him, in to the mud to some degree. He then ducked low and launched himself off of the solid earth towards the man, wanting to rend meat from bone and escape.

The commotion of Mae's efforts had been so disruptive, so alien, so incomprehensible to the soldier that his follow-through was affected. Yes, he ducked, and yes he lunged—but he missed Akavir entirely, his center of gravity addled by the mud and the odd angle of his body; so he snapped the air and threw his shoulder at nothing, and that bowled him sidelong away from the two strangers, as well as on a trajectory out of the marsh and westward.

Defense was a 13 and Attack was a 14. I didn't necessarily put a main so much as he's trying to really force Glaukos to submission, if that makes sense? I suppose it could turn to a main/injury if he avoids him and pulls from his teeth. I can also edit if necessary.

As much of a blur as it all was, Mae disappeared beneath the behemoth—eliciting the man to do a donkey kick that didn’t leave much to the imagination of a man at what Mae’s intentions had been, and he shuddered himself at the potential of such damage.

Still, he was only willing to tomb the man within his jaws—whether it rage from the entirety of the past few months, or for the simple fact the man even dared breathe the same air as his daughter at this point, he didn’t care.

He was out for blood and ruin.

The man shouldered him—thick and heavy—snapping his teeth together in a sharp clip that rattled him for a moment but wasn’t enough of a deterrent.


Wherever this wolf came from—wherever he was going—the fact he had aimed teeth and threat to not just one of his own, but to his daughter was what saw him continue his assault. The stranger was confused—brought down mostly from the thick mud of the marsh.

Glaukos tried to slog through the thick mud, looking to move away from the fight—Akavir leapt forward, perhaps against better judgement, his fangs flashing as he aimed now for the man’s nape, willing to push him down as he barked out a snarl. “Yield.” The words were given with scathing fury and disgust—he wasn’t about to let this threat just lumber around the valley.

It all happened in seconds, yet it felt a small eternity; a spotlight on this moment, as if the world somehow knew it would not be the same in the moments to follow. Mae felt the air brush across her face, soft like a caress in the moment before impact.

Then the man's nails raked across her face, and the world exploded into shards of scarlet ice. The pain registered as a searing chill across her brow, across her eyes. She heard herself let out a harsh breath and wondered for a moment why it wasn't a scream. She wanted to scream.

Instead she lunged again, relentless; following her nose and her ears now where her eyes failed. She couldn't see — but that wouldn't stop her. Nothing would stop her. Mae snapped for the wolf's legs now, haphazard but vicious in her pursuit. She couldn't see her father's movements, couldn't know his intentions, but her own were similar. She sought to bring the man to the ground.

Rolled a 14 for his defense vs Mae and opted out of an attack roll!

He was a giant trying to outrun and out maneuver two giant-killers; for what it was worth, Glaukos did his best to lunge and dodge, and while he did a decent job there was no way for someone that large to manage against two focused fighters. In his current state—mud covered, bloodied, and with the fading effects of a berserker rage (or something near enough to that), the adrenaline pulsed through Glaukos but he was quickly set upon by the man and girl.

While he deflected some of what the girl did, there was no stopping the man as he came to dominate Glaukos and grind him in to the earth with the command to yield.

On the ground and with this man holding his nape, Glaukos knew he only needed a moment to catch his breath and he could rise again, fight again—but with his rage partly quelled and nothing in his favor, he had some of his faculties back, and knew that he should give in. So, he would sit there and accept his defeat.

The rage was swallowed down again, locked away where it could not hurt anyone.

Whatever chain of events that had occurred, he could not say. The giant was fallen for now—and Akavir was not foolish enough to know that the marsh had played a large role in this for now—that, and perhaps a father’s desperation.

So when Glaukos yielded as commanded—and from the corner of his eyes he could see Mae lunging forward, his grip was maintained for a moment. The stranger had moved with blind rage prior—now, remaining still in the mud and alluding to a calmer moment, Akavir did not trust that careless mistakes might turn to a more calculated attack.

So when he stole a look to his dark daughter—the blood upon her face—there was a certain desire to end this man who had dared draw such a thing from her. But he had yielded. A submission.

And Akavir relented by releasing his grip and moving away, the snarl in his vocals a terrible symphony in the otherwise silent wetlands—a warning that the man had best find himself going.

It came to her late — the realization that her father had spoken, that he'd told the man to yield.

Yield, when what she wanted was blood. What she wanted was to kill him.

You women need to learn —

Her teeth scored his haunches again. She was still bristling all over. The taste of marsh and flesh filled her mouth, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough.

— to be seen and not heard.

She would be dead now if not for her father.

Mae tore herself away with a ragged snarl. Fuck off, She spat, lashing out with a foreleg to give him a firm kick in the ass. She wanted to hear the sound of fleeing footsteps.

When he curbed to the man's will, something eased within Glaukos. His rage burned low where it simmered, where he could control it and swallow it down, but beyond that was a sense of masculine pride which was shaken at his very core.

He hadn't kept his women safe. He hadn't kept Rivenwood working efficiently. He hadn't been in command of his own fate, or of his legion, the way he had expected. And now he had been laid low by a father and daughter duo—years of his training wasted, it felt like, while the world turned red around him.

Now that the rage had subsided he felt the keen throbbing of his wounds. The heavy, cold, slick feeling of the mud that held him. The clip of teeth from the girl as she landed one last blow; her words scathing as she went to march with her father.

Glaukos would leave without another word. He would go to nurse his well deserved wounds, and find a way to go on with his life.