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One: Last Will

“To my dear Daughter,

“This message means that I am dead. I know you will open this when you are not ready. It seemed that way when we stopped speaking to one another for good, but I never gave up on our relationship. I truly loved your mother, and I wanted to love you"-

I fasten my belt and sheathe my two blades in the scabbard on each side.

• “which is why I must request one thing of you despite your unreasonable hatred. I regret that our relationship was like that. I wanted to be close to you, and this is to tell you how much I care. I care about many that I have come to know, and regret what I failed of those that are dead."-

I fasten the laces of my boots and make as good of a bow in the knot that I can, and on the first try, the laces are secure enough to keep my boots in place.

-“What I ask of you is what many with fiancées, wives, sisters, or daughters wanted, but never did. My best friends had loved ones lost to the clan that once had your mother as a slave."-

I don my jacket, each arm placed through each sleeve, and look down to make sure that my hilts are concealed. I also make sure that I have the devices on which I rely in the pockets, and that they do nothing unless I trigger them.

• “There is a brothel called Mudbath, which is funded, and therefore controlled, by that same clan, east of Highcond, a terrible town called Grauk, one of many bordering north of River Numo. It is a base of many syndicates and clans. Enter one of their pubs or one of their brothels; there is a chance you will not depart alive."-

I secure my golden mask, my pointed ears fitting through the slots, braced over my muzzle, and I can see through the openings for the eyes.

• “I wish for you, the daughter that I never gave up on, for your mother if not for me, to do what all those female slaves' families wish they did years ago"-

I look in my hand mirror to know that the mask is fitted perfectly. My reflection shows the confidence that I have in this mission. I lowered the hand mirror to raise the hood of my jacket, and climb out the window of the house where I'd broken in, in preparation, and I follow a familiar and abnormal crow.

• “Burn the brothel to the ground."

---

Nine in the evening, the sun just setting upon the territory of filth and living scum, stenches of blight filling the atmosphere. Every house is made of wood, and many having decayed after so long, and decaying further. No gaslights are to be found in this area, which is why animals such as myself have to rely on our natural night vision, and it still gets darker with each second now. I walk casually along the road of only dirt, expecting someone to interfere in my mission. I then begin to stride on the path, as if someone pulls me toward my destination, but I fight the instinct to go running. Only once, I meet an interruption, in the form of a Shephard, whom I gave an uppercut to his jaw before he can finish his remark about finding an elegant she-wolf in a place like this. I walk past him and he doesn't bother to catch up with me.

It is dark now, no way of seeing in this area except with night vision. Just when the sun has completely set, I see the large sign: “Mudbath". I hear the caw of a raven, the same raven that I have followed, to navigate the area. I head to its back, and climb up what dried dirt the wall was made of, I can maintain a grip of as I do so. I force the window that I approach open, the one nearest me, and climb inside the room—

To find a naked brown wolf about to get inside a fragile-looking multicolour cat, who is as naked. Out of the surprise followed by the irritation, the brown wolf heads to the moldy dresser, where he has left his holster, along with his pistol. Before he reaches his pistol, I unsheathe one of my curved and hooked blades with my left hand, and the hook-like end is pressed below his jaw. He is lucky that I am not here to kill him.

“Step back", I command, and he does so, my blade still pressed against him. I then sheathe my blade, which confuses him, once I'm between him and the dresser. That confusion of his ends as I perform a left hook to the side of his face, which knocks him out. I then tell the young female cat—who I assume is only seventeen— “Get off the bed." She does so right away. I take the mattress from the filthy wooden frame and drop it out the window. The cat watches me just drag the unconscious wolf to the opening as well, and dropping out the window as well. As I hope, he lands on the mattress.

Turning back around, I inform the cat, who's still naked and as fearful as she is befuddled, “I am here to help." I approach her and hold her shoulders, instructing, “I need you to be strong. For yer friends. I plan t-destroy this place. Yeh must stay on this floor ter 'elp yer friends. Make all the patrons leave, and without their clothes or their coin. Tell the other girls ta take the money fer themselves. And their weapons, if their clients have any."

The cat asks, “Wha' ull yeh do?"

“Kill the guards and the owner. Rob the office. Then burn this place down."

“You're daft", the cat comments.

I let go of her, and respond, “No. I do this because it is the right thing to do. You can't be the only one who hates being here. You will know when the guards are dead and the patrons are away. When I am done with them, you leave. Then, I will set the building on fire."

The cat seems like she could cry, but she nods rapidly, and begins to put on her ragged gown, likely her best one. She then takes the gun and pouch that have been left by her client. She explains, “I dunno how you know about the guards, but don' underestimate them. One in particular living here: the owner agreed with the condition that the regular session with one of us be his pay; he's the strongest and most intimidating. The barwoman, Viola, can help you if you're serious about burning the place down. She knows where the opium is kept; you can cover the floor with it, but don't start the fire until you're outside, too." I have already been killing others. I kill the wrongdoers and rob every one of them because it is right, but I don't turn down contract kills either.

I head in the hall that's barely lit by candles in clouded glass, and down the wooden staircase with only one turn, the foot of which leads to the bar counter. The bar woman is a grey cat that looks blue, even having blue eyes, clad in a sleeveless dress with a closed collar. Just the bar counter and round tables taking up this part of the building has a difference between the top floor like night and day. The floor is only dirt.

The chatter dies down from the odd appearance of myself. Having gained everyone's attention, I announce, “I will say this only once to the patrons: get out. Things will get bloody." The patrons just laugh at that. I signal the barwoman over, and whisper to her, “If you want to be anywhere but here, you will help me." She nods. “One of the girls tells me you can get me opium to light on fire." That widens her pupils. I add, “I am dead serious. You want to leave this place, no? See your family again?"

She gathers herself before I hear a groggy whisper from the bluish-grey cat, “I will help you." She then heads to the back.

Focusing on the crowd again, I announce, “I will give you all a chance, but only one chance. The girls will be given the money that they deserve and you will let them walk out of here, to never come back."

After much hesitation, one guard approaches me, a Greyhound, slender as normal of his kind, clad in a brown business jacket with flashy epaulets over a white shirt and narrow beige tie. He asks, “What if we deny your demand?"

I answer coldly, “Then I will kill you all myself, and set this building on fire. Your boss will be among the dead as well."

Another dog, this one a Shephard, but with grey fur and as slender as her subordinate, seeming to have flat chest, says irritably, “Tell that to me face, yeh bitch." She approaches as well, warning, “Yeh're not the first meddler in me business. It seems we need make an example of whoever else thinks they can come in here and"-

I interrupt her with a punch to the nose, prompting the Greyhound to pull out a pistol, but as quickly I unsheathe one of my Khopesh with my left paw, I drive it in his midsection before he can pull the trigger, and I drive the blade straight up, making sure that he's dead, before I let the then limp body fall down.

The grey Shephard barks, “Ge' 'er, fools!" She then dashes away, expecting one of the guards to kill me. I pull out one of the devices from my jacket, press the button, and toss it. Where it lands, a table bursts into flames. I toss another and make another table become an improvised brazier. That brings enough chaos for patrons to start running. Enough of a distraction for me to get close to the guards that rely on guns.

I meet the centre of the dining area, where I unsheathe my other Khopesh and use each on the two guards near me, making an upward gash on their chests. I turn to another guard, this one a stoat, but I don't miss, slashing both Khopesh downward, but only coming out as impalements and he dies instantly. The next guards that I turn to, each rely on guns as well, and I slash across their midsections. After that short time, the fires on the tables dim until they're only embers losing their light. I duck quickly, just hearing two simultaneous gunshots. I jump atop a table and jump from it with a backflip, and then spread my arms like wings, tearing the weasels' jackets, and then I send the blades to a space between their ribs, killing them.

“So, it's up to me", I hear a gentlemanly voice state nonchalantly. I turn to where I hear it, seeing a dolphin, wearing only underwear, showing off all the muscle in his legs, arms, chest, abdomen, and back. He has a lot of muscle for a dolphin for sure, and holds a two-headed axe as if it's nothing. “Those men are nothing. You face the enforcer."

I make him prove that he is the strongest. Based on that he has no belt with holster or a sidearm, he doesn't care for guns. I thrust my dual Khopesh, still having the hilts on the pinky side of my hands. He dodges before swinging downward, and then upward, and I back away from both cleaves. I utilise the scissor technique, but the lock doesn't last long, as he shifts his axe toward me. I let go, and back away. I let him cleave at me thrice before I use the hooks of my blades to shift the axe up, and then kick his midsection. I leap toward him, managing to cut his shoulder, which makes him angry. Though reckless, he still has the potential to split me open with his axe. The dolphin swipes sideways twice, before cleaving downward, and I choose to leap aside, as that's my best chance of surviving. Turning, I cut his side. Even responding to that attack, he backs from the thrust of my other blade. The dolphin growls, and it's no pleasant sound. He performs a barrage of sideways cleaves until he backs me in a corner, and I crouch swiftly before he can deliver a fatal blow. After I get behind him, having slid between his legs, I manage to slash his throat with both blades in a reverse-scissor motion. He chokes on his blood as he stumbles to the side.

I look around, making sure that everyone I have slashed at is dead. Within seconds of the chaos dying, many females of a short variation of canines and felines walk down the stairs, fully dressed, walking down the stairs. I announce, “Get as far away from here as you can. Stop for no one. This borough's not fer any-a you." Those courtesans, having packed up what they could, head out the front door. That was just the select few not currently occupied.

“Madame", a voice called, and I looked to the bar, seeing the bluish-grey cat, having fulfilled my request.

I asked, approaching the counter, “How flammable is that?"

The deep female voice stated, “Sold as drug and explosive."

I then asked, “Which way is the office?" She points behind me, and I note the opening in the wall. Looking back, I told the bluish-grey cat, “Get your own things as well, along with what you think you deserve. The others are busy fighting their clients."

I head to the opening in the mud-moulded wall, which has a short line leading to a closed door. I have a hunch that a gun awaits me on the other side of that door. So, I think on a quick battle plan. I stand to the side before I slowly turn the knob and open it slightly before letting go, letting the door just open. I take out one of my incendiaries and press its button. I don't toss it too far, so I can create a burst of fire on the floor.

I seize that chance, turning to enter the office, which is like the difference between night and day even with what little the dim light shows. The Shephard has a pistol out, just like I predict. While she is disoriented, I charge into her, my elbow hitting her abdomen. I quickly grab her arm, so I can yank the pistol out of her hand and toss it out of her reach. She pulls out a knife, and in reaction, I pull out the Khopesh from my left scabbard, which I use to slash her right arm, making her lose grip of the knife as well. I then back her against a wall, the tine of the Khopesh pressed into the board.

I speak sternly, “Money. Where is it?" The Shephard hesitates. So, I rotate the Khopesh so that the blade's edge is against her throat. Without raising my voice, I press, “Tell me where the money is."

“I know… I know yeh'll kill me anyway… And there will be others after you fer this."

“Nothing new", I comment. “Is there a safe?" I get a hint that was the answer. “Combination?" I press the edge a little harder.

“Three dials… You will find it… In the desk…" She is right about one thing: I slash her throat with my Khopesh and release her, letting her limp body fall, still against the wall. I look through the drawer of the crude desk, finding letters and records of transactions. It's not long before I find the combination: 738. I also take letters to fold up and store in my inner breast pocket. I finally open the safe, revealing the stacks of bills and coins. I haul it all into the pub of the place and lay it all on the bar counter.

While doing so, many males run down the stairs, naked, and out the door, them being a short variety of species. The reason for them to be at a brothel is not my business. The bluish-grey cat takes a sack from the bar for later to split. I take a reasonable amount in the bills and coins before she gets it all. That's when the rest of the courtesans, now having packed up and are ready for the reason I'm here, meet. I tell them, “Everyone except Viola, get out of here now. Stay close together. You get to split the money from the vault once Viola catches up. She'll help me with the opium." They all hesitate. So, I add, “Do what I say." That's when they head to the front door as well. Per my… command, Viola pours the oiled drug over the floor as I do, after she has her belongings, along with two wine bottles next to the doorway. We even pour the substance over the corpses of the guards, except for one of two weasels that I'd killed. All the tables and chairs are pushed on their sides in the process. I strip the corpse and then bring it out, naked, with me.

Before she departs for good, the bluish-grey cat asks me, “Where can I go from here?"

“To something more of your liking", I answer. She heads out slowly, before striding in the street, leaving one of the canisters for me, probably to further express gratitude. At the open doorway, I toss my last incendiary with my eyes closed, and the fire begins.

I watch the fire grow instantaneously, the licks dancing madly. The pub takes all the damage, I know, but I make sure that the place is destroyed beyond repair. As I watch the rage grow, the raven that I've followed joins me, but alights upon the weasel and begins pecking at the open wound. He has no problem getting the gash to reopen, and I just smile at that moment of him enjoying feasting upon the flesh. I look to the burning building again. Thanks to the opium to soak the walls, the dirt gives way. The supports crumble until the walls begin to give and thus the collapse of the construct. With the holes to be torn, the walls end up tearing, and I dash away, making sure that none, if not the least, of the dust gets on my suit. The dust clears, and I work to burn the building further. As a last resort, I pull out a pair of flints and scrape them together repeatedly for a spark until I get a spark, which ignites the oil from the dim lamps, and another fire, though small, begins.

Now walking off, seeing the first part of my mission complete, I call to the crow, still indulging on the weasel's flesh, “Whenever you're ready."