Copyright Issues:
Nonprofit fiction. Bard's Song around the end is based off Bertold Brecht's poem "To our Posterity."
Intro:
The world of Dunia is similar to ours, where men and monsters evolved in similar forms, and lived side-by side with many continents and countries. The Continent of Ermor has two empires locked in a war for supremacy: Human Holy-Lescatian Empire to the East, and Mamono-Reik to the West.
Centuries long, this conflict was over land and resources, with increasing hostility against humans by "monsters", an amalgamation of races similar to humans, even biologically compatible but with wildly different features and societies.
Last decade the war escalated to a genocidal level when monsters banded under a God-King named Maou, an ancient Dai-Oni from the east. Ironically, around that time, male births started to lessen amongst monsters.
Theophilos is a young boy who fell to the kingdom of monstergirls, also known as "Mamono Reik" 10 years before the battle of Megiddo which was later defined as "The World War", where their leader was killed.
Around these times, Monsters had their males and uglier, man-eating counterparts as well, albeit declining.
His village was raided by Dark Elven raiders of the west, in an era when mamono, monsterkind, were still bigendered and bloodthirsty. He became a slave along with the humans taken from the coasts and sold to mines with his family, lost someone dear; eventually escaping and studying magic and combat in a changing world, his request for justice is denied since everyone likes to make love and forget as some mamono want to escape the past. This is a story when the consensus changes, and your personal pain is ignored amongst the chaos.
This is a story when you no longer conform to "live and let live", instead forcibly extract your wish when the world is quietly wanting to enjoy the moment, wanting you to "let bygones be bygones".
You appear on their bedside with a sword pointed at their throat, saying, "Settle the account first".
Dear reader, you'll encounter friends, relatives and many role models who claim that you should let all grudges go and sing songs of peace and die in a corner.
That is for dogs and slaves.
We deserve better than that.
ACT 1: Hounded, Hunted.
The Monstergirl Empire was celebrating Father's Day, when males even the lowest social standing were honored and raised up and the Empire celebrated paternity and the love of fatherhood, especially since all male monsters are long gone.he celebrations were installed after the first Monster-Human War which resulted in the death of Maou, Monster Emperor, a male Dai-Oni, a demonlike monster of the East. Today was a day of love and life. Monstergirls of all species freely mingled with human males, mostly slaves or freedmen born from humans taken in wars, who were treated like kings for a day.
Someone with a grudge stalking the streets had other plans than be cuddled and loved like some morality pet.
One of the ubiquitous features of a father's day, a monster-human couple fresh out of bar ambled ever-so-slowly and loudly towards their home. The monster one was a drunk minotaur girl who barely stood leaning to her husband, swayed and burped cutely. Her face was a mask of drunk joy, still careful not to hurt her husband with her horns and body that was, even with human influence, still ripped like a titan despite the wondrous curves that would make any grown man look twice. Taking another hoofstep, she was startled by a small hiss and a passing shadow, barely blurting out drunkenly:
"Wazzat a cat?"
Her husband shook his head and led her gently home, too scared to say what it was. A tang of blood and burnt sulphur was telltale signs of a threat not many knew, but some humans of the Reik knew quite well of an urban legend that watched over them.
For one second, the poor human man had seen a young man, barely an adult, no older than a score winters, pass him by. Steps like silk, wild, disheveled hair with a hint of greying at this young age, a 3-day stubble explained everything; if not the hateful glare, grinding teeth, sheathed weapons and constant darting eyes already didn't show his intentions.
"Let's go home sweetheart. You had too much to drink." He gently tried to steer her, only earn a snort, a lusty butt-squeeze and a nuzzle from the muscled minotaur girl.
"Ahm a minotauh! I kan drink azmuchazziwan-" Before she could take another hoof-step, she collapsed in his arms, snoring before mumbling: "I wuv you shnookums."
"I love you too, wooshums." He sighed, kissing her alcohol smelling, fluffy cheek. She was sweet, crude and cute, a snoring, 200 pound muscled beauty on top of him, gigantic breasts nearly suffocating even though she was the sweetest, cutest minotaur girl who had met him and made him love of her life after a skirmish.
"Wooshums...let's just go... You know the penalty for vagrancy..."
Sighing, he dragged her snoring, cute hide across the threshold and into the door.
**
The fireworks' rumble was the perfect cover for the glowing comet of a man to charge the adamantine gates of the sinister mansion. The shouts and music covered the clang of metal and screams of pain to come.
The figure came to stand before the massive gated mansion which had dull sounds of music and clinking of glasses coming from the inside. A party.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly cut his palm with a small dagger, smearing the red blood around his sword while whispering a syllable. Then, the man repeated the strange blood ritual, made a circle on his boots, mumbled arcane syllables, and stretched his limbs.
Chanting a few words, he felt his veins ablaze with anger and eldritch forces as a quiet, humming sensation of power coursed through his veins. Without further ado, he started running towards the ornate, gothic gate and leapt, landing over the crude wooden gate, kept running, and kicked forward when he saw a second gate made from a blackish metal.
