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Meanwhile, at the hostile prison camps, Sevlow woke up. The arms he lifted were still covered in fur despite the fact that he was supposed to revert to his human form upon passing out. Something must have been done to him to make him stay in this form. Thoughts entered his head at a rapid speed, thoughts wondering how and why he would be kept like this.

His pondering forcibly ended when his head throbbed in horrible agony equivalent only to the anguish of seeing his fellow Shifters killed. His heavy eyes were clouded by a layer of fog, and it took all his effort just to keep them open.

The walls, he recognized, were originally part of a city, now rebuilt. Sevlow found he could barely move his arms and legs because they were chained to the walls, which had been converted into prison cells. Every cell was packed to the limits with prisoners, all of them Maldoran and all of them infantry Captains or someone of equal rank or importance.

Many were stripped of their armor and in chains stretching them painfully far. Like them, he was surrounded on all sides by metal bars. But he knew he may be able to bend the metal bars if his arms were free. Sevlow recognized many of them; but they all came from many different Forts...

...then it hit him...

...the towns the people came from were no more. The citizens were massacred, and the prisoners he saw all around him were likely the only people that remained. Many of them looked like they had beaten and tortured, likely even after they had already surrendered.

"Looks like Wolfy-Boy is awake!" Someone suddenly said, right in front of Sevlow.

"Who are you? Want do you want?" Sevlow asked while snarling.

"What do we want? You should be grateful you're still breathing!" The man said angrily.

"Grateful to be alive? Why? So I can feel the pain of everyone you murdered?" Sevlow said, nearly roaring in rage at them.

The Captain, not expecting this sudden outrage, flinched when Sevlow yelled at him. He also saw that, unlike almost all of the other prisoners, this one wasn't resigned to giving up. He could be a problem if his attitude spread to the other prisoners.

He would need to be broken as soon as possible. Provided he could break. There were always a select few who were so strong that they couldn't break, only bend. From the looks of things, he could definitely bend. But could he break? That was a question he knew he would enjoy finding out.

A determined, angry, and mourning look was stretched across Sevlow's muzzle. If he had but an inch of slack from the chains he knew he'd be able to pull them out of the wall. But as it was, he was unable to get any momentum at all. Were he in his human form, he would be able to gain slack from melting it until it stretched.

"Oh, you will feel much more pain than that! This I promise!" The Captain said with a snarl as he saw him wince from discomfort.

"And you will pay for all the innocent people you murdered! This I promise!" Sevlow retorted with his lips curled in a snarl and his teeth bared at his foe.

"We will see who pays and who is rewarded, now won't we?" The Captain said as he glared at Sevlow.

"Yes! We will!" Sevlow replied with an angry snarl.

Three Suns later, Sevlow collapsed in his cell at the prison camp. His eyes blinked rapidly and his sore back loosened a bit upon relaxation. His mind became restless when the reason for him still being alive continued to escape him. The pointy ears on his head flicked back and forth rapidly as the various prisoners awoke from their sleep. Sevlow was instantly able to recognize several of them.

"You!" Sevlow said, aiming his pointy nose at the man. "I know you. But your name escapes me."

"Jardis, Captain of Morwynia. And you are...?" The man now known as Guard Captain Jardis replied.

"Sevlow, chief of all Shifters." He said as he pulled at his chains until he rose to his paw-like feet.

His arms, especially his clawed fingers, held on tight to his chains to maintain equilibrium. The thick muscles on his chest rippled as he held himself erect, making the huge, purple blisters scattered over his torso obvious and easy to see even through his thick fur. His eyes rapidly dashed back and forth, observing the men surrounding him in the attempt to determine if they may be of use to him.

Every single prisoner contained within the walls was a high ranking official, most of them Guard Captains, minus their weapons and, in most cases, their armor and even their clothes. Those few who still had their armor had hideous wounds on them which resulted in the armor being crushed and dented to the point of being nearly impossible to remove intact. Many were chained up, but a few were somewhat free to move around within their cells, and there was no apparent pattern in who was chained up and who wasn't.

Then, Sevlow twisted his hips as far as he could turn them. He felt his pockets were empty, filled with nothing, not even a spellstone. While he didn't need a spellstone to change shape like most other Shifters due to him being a True Shifter and not a Maldoran born one, it did help in maintaining his form over longer periods of time without tiring as easily.

"Alright, everyone listen up!" Sevlow said in a voice that could have ordered any man to do almost anything with the amount of command contained in his voice.

Heads turned, voices stopped, and all attention was focused on Sevlow as he spoke his peace.

"I ask only that you allow me to speak and that you listen." He paused and got no comments or complaints before continuing.

"Everyone in here was once a man of great importance in Maldora. A few of whom I knew personally, even quite well at that. I can offer many of you your freedom, all I need from you in return is cooperation. At some point during our imprisonment, an opportunity will arise for us to challenge our captors. That time may come without a moment's notice. If and when it does, I need everyone to act quickly, or the opportunity will be wasted, never to return. Those who do not wish to join will not be forced to." Sevlow exclaimed but was then interrupted.

"We're all prisoners here, and we all will either fight or die together!" One of them said and got hoots and hollers of approval and agreement from everyone else; making him grin wide.

"When the uprising begins, you will have only Blinks to react, so make those moments count. Wait for my signal to begin. I do not know exactly what that signal will be yet, but you will be able to recognize it. Even if we do not make it out alive, it is still better than staying in here to rot for the rest of our lives." Sevlow's head turned away at the last part and everyone did the same as they discussed if he was right with the person next to them.

After all of them had finished, they turned to the Shifter Captain and said, one after another, "Aye!"

Sevlow smiled, pleased that he was able to rally support in the middle of enemy territory. Then, he heard the last thing in the world he wanted to hear. The doors on either side creaked and then slammed against the wall with an ear splitting bang. His heart rose to his throat and he struggled to remain calm to present no suspicion.

Their captors paced back and forth along the corridor, eyes constantly swerving back and forth as if searching for signs of treachery or, Sevlow thought, monitoring the condition of their prisoners. A man stopped directly in front of cell and the two stared at each other. The man Sevlow stared down had a hazy black and grey beard that couldn't have been more than a few days old.

Their eyes never left one another, for Sevlow maintained his gaze. Then, at the last second before the man's gaze flicked to someone else, one eye closed then opened with lightning speed. Sevlow blinked several times, wondering if he had actually seen what his eyes told him.

The man's hands blurred and pulled the collar of his shirt toward his face as he whispered something. Sevlow's ears strained to hear what the man said, but he deduced it to be a signal to the rest of the guards to enter the room. Each prisoner moved then stayed completely still to watch the men when they got into a comfortable position.

Several more men entered the room; and each of them carried a tray of food. Sevlow had no choice but to watch as they brought food to their captives, many of which, himself included, had to eat using only their mouth; for their arms and legs were bound into immobility. Sevlow relaxed a little and felt the chains loosen up somewhat, making it more comfortable for him to hold still.

His vision focused only on the white fabric of the man in front of him when he leaned forward and slid the tray toward him. Sevlow bit back a gag when he saw the filth that passed as food among them, but then, he saw the man's hand rise to his face and rub at his newly formed beard exactly three times then swept back down as if it never happened.

Sevlow couldn't believe what he was seeing. Back when he was commanding his legions those many, many Turns ago, his second-in-command used the same gesture when in deep thought. He leaned his head forward a bit and dismissed the thought upon the realization that it was likely a habit common among humans.

The man in front of him nodded several times and when he left, Sevlow thought he saw the trace of a smile trying to force its way onto his cheek. He suddenly became worried and pondered what evil intentions the man had for the prisoners. Rather than tormenting his mind with the thoughts of his companions being in pain, he focused on the food tray in front of him.

His nose crinkled as he took in the scent of the gunk that was food before his lips slowly parted and he stretched toward the tray. He shivered as the horrible taste made itself known and his chewing slowed down. The food was gamy, and quite tough, but he saw no choice other than eating it; for he would need the energy it would provide him if his plan were to have any chance of success.

His eyes widened when he saw a small object that caught what little light there was remarkably well, and saw it to be composed of metal. He leaned in as much as he could and saw it was an old style key. A mistake so convenient for him? He was certain he was seeing things, but after squinting many times; he was finally convinced it was real.

He looked up, trying to find the guard who gave it to him, but he was gone. Sevlow seemed to be the only one of them who was given a key. He tried his hardest to reach the lock on his shackles but couldn't reach it. Then, he took a deep breath when he knew what he had to do. His pulse skyrocketed as he leaned in as far as he could, he grit his teeth tightly together, then gave a sharp twist and his shoulder dislocated with a sickening crunch.

Sweat gathered on his forehead as he leaned the rest of the way to the lock while the shackles pulled at his dislocated shoulder. It took all his concentration and disciplines not to scream from the agony it made. After a prolonged, tortuous period, he finally slid the key into the lock, and then twisted his head to the side, turning the key in the lock.

All that was left now was hope that it was the right key and that he wasn't deceived. Every degree he turned his head burned; not only from the pain, but also from the anticipation and anxiety. Finally, after what seemed an eternity to him, the manacles loosened and fell off his wrist. Sevlow sighed in relief and smiled in success.

Just when he was about to unlock his other arm, he was reminded that his arm was dislocated by pain stabbing into his shoulder. He tested how much slack he had; quite a bit more than he expected. Would it be enough to pop his shoulder back into place? He didn't care, and didn't have time to think about it. The only choice he had was testing it.

After taking a step back, he ran toward the wall facing him at full speed. There was a loud crack that made everyone in the room shudder and cringe, while his shoulder popped back into place, and Sevlow nearly bit his tongue to keep from screaming in agony. After the pain subsided, he gathered what courage he could muster and slowly moved his arm.

Despite being a little stiff, it was good as new. He then leaned down and picked the key up off the floor and unlocked his other shackle. It fell off and clinked when it hit the ground. He rubbed his chafed wrists before he bent down and unlocked the cuffs on his ankles. Midway through turning the key, more clicks came as the door at the end of the hallway slid open.

He frowned when he saw that it wasn't the one who slipped him the key standing on the other side, but just a normal guard. He stiffened and didn't move a muscle when the guard turned and looked at him. Luckily, his motionlessness didn't attract any attention or curiosity, and the man turned and faced the opposite direction.

Sevlow scrambled to wrap the chains around his hands with as little movement possible to make it appear like he was still bound. Whatever caught the man's attention went away, and he turned back around; staring Sevlow in the face. Sevlow took a silent gulp as the man took several steps toward him until he could see the Shifter's ocean blue eyes. The two gazes locked in a staring contest.

The man nodded then turned back around. A shocked gasp was all that was heard when Sevlow stepped forward and impaled the claws on one hand through the man's back and clasped the other over the man's mouth to keep him from calling for help. Gurgles of pain came from his attempts to breathe before Sevlow twisted his claws clockwise, severing the man's spinal cord in a wet slicing sound that made him go limp.

With that, Sevlow pulled his claws out and the man fell boneless to the floor while blood sprayed. He then used the key that was still in his ankle shackles and freed himself entirely. He slid the key into the lock on his cell and turned it. It slid open! The cell and the shackles were made with the same lock? He found it strange, but convenient. Sevlow went to the cell next to him and tried to keys on the lock, but they wouldn't fit. He hesitated not a moment longer and searched the dead man's body for another set of keys. He clawed through his pockets before he found what he was looking for and tossed them to the man in the cell across from his. The prisoner quickly went from key to key until he found the one for his door. Then it was passed to the next one, and the next one, until all of them were freed.

Soon, more than two hundred Maldorans, though unarmed and mostly without clothes, all of them were very angry, and were now free. It wasn't too big a step, but at least they were no longer bound and locked up. Sevlow stood at the front of the nearly single file line of the former prisoners as he pressed his back to the door and his ear to the metal to listen.

Suddenly, he felt a push from the other side. Sevlow, rather than trying to keep the door closed by pressing against it, simply moved forward when he timed the next push to occur. The door was shoved open and Sevlow instantly grabbed the man on the other side and pushed him against the wall with a claw pressed against his neck.

Sevlow loosened up somewhat when he saw it was the man who snuck a key to him to allow him to escape. Despite this, he kept him pressed against the wall but slowly pulled his claw away. The man didn't seem at all frightened from coming so close to being killed, and Sevlow decided to find out more about him like whether he was worth killing.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sevlow demanded of him.

"I'm Anthony Christman. I'm here to help." The man said.

"You are no Maldoran! You are not one of us, so why are you helping?" Sevlow asked, somewhat softer this time.

"No, I'm not one of you." He said, trying his best to hide his nervousness but failed.

"Then why are you helping us? Talk!" Sevlow impatiently demanded and pushed him back against a wall when he didn't answer immediately.

"I-I was drafted. I had no desire to fight." Anthony said, avoiding eye contact.

Sevlow loosened his grip when he saw no signs of dishonesty on the man's face. He knew there was something he didn't reveal, but also knew that the man was truthful about not wanting to hurt them. He curled his fingers and set his hands at his side in a calm stance. When Sevlow relaxed, all the other former prisoners did as well.

"Why did you help us, then?" Sevlow asked again, only this time, there was no brusqueness in his voice.

"I was forced into coming here. I had no desire to hurt anyone. When I saw how they treated their prisoners, I couldn't stand idly by and let them torture innocents. I had to help." Anthony said.

Sevlow searched his face for signs of dishonesty. When he found none, he nodded slowly, and agreeably. He helped Anthony to his feet when the door opened again. For the first time in his life, Sevlow was overcome by terror and nervousness. The man on the other side of the door drew his weapon as Sevlow charged at him with claws raised, but a bloody hole appeared in the man's chest before he could cover half the distance between them.

Sevlow looked back and saw Anthony holding a smoking weapon. He recognized the weapon as the type he was growing used to seeing on the guards. After quietly cursing himself for forgetting to search the man for weapons, he simply nodded his thanks to Anthony before he led the Maldorans through the door.

More guards were seen resting on the other side, though most seemed half awake. They saw numerous cups at the side of each man, and instantly knew they were drunk. Several stared at them in shock and their drunkenness seemed to evaporate into thin air. Anthony quickly opened up and shot them to death when he saw them turn to their weapons.

"Get their weapons!" Anthony said as he removed the empty rounds from his gun and replaced them with fresh ones.

Sevlow and his men quickly did as they were told, though none of them seemed to understand how they worked or how to use them. Several of the men held the guns with the barrel propped against their shoulders. Their man on the inside quickly approached and took Sevlow's weapon, propping the stock of the rifle against his shoulder and showing him how it was aimed.

He used a finger and tapped the aiming sight at the base of the weapon then did the same to the one at the end of the barrel, telling him that the two needed to be aligned. Anthony lifted his other hand and held the base of the weapon with it. He then handed the weapon back to Sevlow and he repeated the motions numerous times to show his ally how to work it.

Sevlow's men ran throughout the hallway and picked up everything they could find that could possibly be used as a weapon. Anthony went to each of them and quickly showed them how each one was aimed, and focused their attention on the trigger near the stock of the weapons. Many of the weapons had levers, and he explained that the lever had to be operated between every shot, and how that was done.

Sounds of movement came from both sides and the doors opened. Anthony's use of his weapon drew unwanted attention and now guards were being sent after them to quell the uprising before it got out of hand. Sevlow quickly ran to the door and pressed it closed with his own weight; he stared at all of his men and gave a blinking nod, giving the signal that their uprising had begun.

His men assembled in lines beside him and all had their weapons raised. The exact second Sevlow moved away from the door, more and more guards poured out only to be brought down by numerous shots from the Maldorans. Many of the shots missed their targets, but all the guards were shot down; hit from being so close together.

The enemies came again and again, and each time the Maldorans got a little bit better and wasted fewer shots. Random panicked shots came from the guards, but only or two found their targets. Soon, many of them spent all their ammunition and worried when their mighty weapons quit working.

Luckily for the Maldorans, the constant stream of hostiles ended just when all of them ran out of shots. When it ended, Sevlow shouted to Anthony and asked how they were to reload their weapons. He calmly showed Sevlow and ejected his spent clip and replaced it. The ejection required the turn of a switch, after which the magazine fell to the ground.

Like before, he had Sevlow repeat the process numerous times; his men watched intently and imitated his handling until they had a good idea how to reload. Not many clips were found and only a few of his men had fully loaded weapons. The ones with full clips were sent to the front line.

"Boys, let us get out of here!" Sevlow said as he signaled a charge.

The Maldorans cheered and became an unstoppable sea of motion and charged through the dozens of hallways, stopping only to retrieve ammunition and to break the cell locks with their guns; adding more and more to their already mighty force. After what seemed like a long time but was only a few minutes, they found themselves outside the compound, and free from their captors at long last!