Chapter 1: Thrown in at the deep end

The first thing he saw was an icicle passing about three inches in front of his nose. A split second later, his ears instinctively folded back as they were assaulted with a sudden crash of sound. Glancing about him, he quickly took stock of the situation.

He was in a great hall formed of gray stone, but sunlight streamed in from great rents in the walls and ceiling, the latter of which appeared to be seriously debating precipitately becoming the floor. There was a pitched battle taking place about him and the clash of swords and explosions of fireballs buffeted his sensitive hearing.

A second icicle grazing his shoulder shocked him into action, and he swung around to face the caster who had so narrowly missed him. Unfortunately, he had not accounted for his greater bulk or his significantly greater strength, and the effort which should have had him merely turn on the spot instead almost sent him headlong into a nearby pillar.

This was a blessing in disguise as it turned out, because it caused the mage to miss entirely with her next icicle, which passed through the spot where his head had been mere moments before. Stopping himself just short of the stone pillar, he finally got a good look at his assailant.

(Image by Birmit)

Standing about thirty feet away was a beautiful elf, dressed in flowing robes which unfortunately hid much of her figure, with long blue-white hair and a similarly icy expression. It didn't suit her, the monster decided as he crouched in readiness to avoid the next icicle, which was already forming at her fingertips. No indeed, she had a gentle face which should bear a smile, not this cold disdain. Glancing at the other combatants, he realized most were human or demon, with no other elves that his hurried sweep could detect. Setting that discovery aside for the moment, he focused on the elf, her projectile now splitting the air between them.

'Time to close the distance,' he thought as he leaped forward, angling himself to just barely clear the icicle, all too aware that while he was in the air his movement would be predictable. He miscalculated slightly, his jump taking him several feet higher than he had intended and nearly twice as far. His opponent's eyes widened as he bore down on her with near superhuman speed, but she reacted quickly. Trading stopping power for speed, she started dual-casting, throwing smaller but quicker icicles from either hand. The sudden barrage forced the monster to change direction, dodging to the side and stumbling again due to his new body. Cursing under his breath, he threw himself back the other way as the elf adjusted her aim.

Barely ten feet separated them now, providing the monster with barely any time to dodge the elf's projectiles, but on the other hand, she was clearly rattled by the speed with which he had been able to close this far. Her aim was much less steady, and she seemed to be attempting more to keep him at bay than to actually land her icicles. A brief stalemate opened between them, as the monster could dodge all the elf's projectiles but could find no opening to get closer.

Seeking to deny her any chance to collect herself, he leaped again, hoping she would not react quickly enough to line up an icicle before he could reach her. He felt two pass through the air directly behind and beneath him, and then, just as he connected with his target, he felt a burning pain in his side. 'Too late!' he thought triumphantly as his weight bore the elf down beneath him. Before he could hit the ground he released her, turning his tackle into something more of a hit and run so as to avoid crushing her beneath him. Slewing around on all fours, he spared a glance at the elf. She lay unmoving, and for a brief moment he thought he had inadvertently killed her until he saw she was still breathing.

Letting out a sigh, he straightened to two legs again, now free to more closely examine the fracas around him. As his earlier survey had indicated, most of the combatants were either human or demon, but what he had not noticed was that the demons were vastly outnumbered. While all of the humans appeared to be warriors of some description, uniformly equipped and well-armed, the demons were far more disorganized, few wearing any armor at all. Instead, most were rather scantily dressed, and fighting with the desperation of the cornered beast which knows its time has come. Interestingly, the demons were also all female.

There were about forty people in the room all told, and perhaps ten were demons. 'Nine,' the monster winced as he watched one demon's head part company from her body and arc through the air. Looking back at the soldier responsible, he was surprised to see a sadistic smile on the man's face.

"Slaughter them all! Show no mercy!" he shouted, a maniacal grin still spread across his countenance, before charging at a blue-skinned demon which looked nothing less than terrified.

"No, please!" she cried, cowering in place; her leg was streaming blood from a nasty cut, and she trembled all over as she waited for the blade to fall.

But it never did. As the sword went up, the monster saw red. In one bound he traversed half the hall, and in one fluid motion his claws ripped through the would-be murderer's throat, nearly decapitating him. Blood fountained, but the monster was no longer there. An instant more saw him with his claws embedded deep in another man's chest, then a whirl and another slash ripped through chainmail and the flesh beneath as though it wasn't there. Before the first man had hit the floor the monster was already disemboweling his fourth victim. Time blurred as he became nothing more than a red and black streak, his opponents dying faster than they could react. By the time they awakened to their danger and attempted to retreat, fully three quarters of them lay dead and dying upon the floor. Only one even made it out of the room. He was brought down by a flying tackle from the monster three steps beyond the door.

The monster whirled off the body of his last kill to find nothing but terrified demons and dead or dying humans. With no more targets, his fury abated, and he was left to try to comprehend what he had done. He did not regret killing them, to be sure. His shock was caused more by how quickly and easily he had done it, and the rage which had gripped him. Then he realized.

'Ah, of course, that was Berserk. I had no idea just how intense the rage state would be. If I lose my head like that at the wrong time... These guys were pushovers, but any competent opponent would take full advantage of my clouded mind.' He shook his head slightly in an attempt to clear his thoughts and focused on the matter at hand. 'Now how do I convince these women that I'm not going to slaughter them like I did everyone else?'

One of the demons, taller than most of the rest, with rosy skin and long brown hair stepped forward.

(Image by Derauea)

"S-sir, please, don't kill us. If you must, you may do what you wish with me, but please don't hurt the others." She flinched involuntarily as the monster turned his head to look at her. He realized he could smell her fear, and, oddly, a hint of arousal.

"I have no desire to harm you. Indeed, I believe my actions made a rather concrete statement as to how I feel about those who did wish to hurt you." His voice was deep, but warm and gentle, surprising him until he remembered his Warmth blessing. 'I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but I would like to sound more intimidating. -Oh, hang on, can't I disable that Blessing if I want to?' He thought better of trying it immediately, however. 'Poor girls would probably be traumatized if I tried it now. Well, more traumatized than they already are.'

The demon's shoulders slumped with relief. "Thank you, sir. Um, why did you come here? N-not that we're not grateful that you're here! But, um, just... c-can we do anything for you?"

"Yes, I expect so. But first things first. I see more than a few wounds among you, so we should focus on getting everyone patched up. What I need can wait." Walking over to the blue-skinned demon whose imminent death had triggered his Berserk, he kneeled beside her, giving her the gentlest look he could muster. "How are you doing?"

(Image by Reizo Ne)

"Just peachy, why d-do y-you ask?" she replied sarcastically, the effect being ruined somewhat by the way her voice shook from the pain of her injured leg.

The monster couldn't quite suppress a smile. 'She certainly bounced back quickly.' Then the smile was wiped from his face as he realized that of all the powers he had recently acquired, only one healed and that one only affected himself. 'Rather a large hole in my repertoire,' he mused.

"Is anyone here capable of healing wounds?" he asked the room at large.

The response was a collection of head shakes and helpless shrugs. The brown-haired demon stepped forward again, saying, "I can heal scratches and small cuts, but I don't know how to begin with a wound like that. Healing magic is really tricky, you can do a lot of damage if you don't know what you're doing."

The monster sighed, before quickly striding over to a dead body and tearing a strip of (mostly clean) cloth off its clothing. Fashioning it into a crude tourniquet above the sassy demon's knee and trying not to be distracted by the almost absurd smoothness of her skin, he told the other, "Just do the best you can."

She nodded, but the worried look didn't leave her as she knelt beside the blue demon's leg. "Okay, Koreen, you need to hold still for this, alright?"

"S-sure." Koreen clenched her teeth as the monster finished tightening the tourniquet. "Hey big guy, what are you even? I've never seen anything like you."

The monster paused for a moment, thinking, then smiled slightly as he replied, "I'm a direwolf. The first, I believe. You may call me Fenrir."