To Be Out-Smarted by a Dog

A new problem quickly arouse with the introduction of a growing population of werewolves and vampires in the area. The supposed murders rumored to be done by these supernatural races in nearby towns grew in numbers, even if the claims were largely false, were predictable. There was, however, a turf war between the new blood and the dark hermit sorcerer by the name Vater Sterbefall. Normally, Sterbefall was content with separating himself from the rest of the countrymen in a fortified castle built in the heart of the Armbrust Forest, far from the boundaries of villages, but the dabbler in black magic started to feel threatened by the empowered vampires and werewolves. Instead of challenging the groups directly, he, in his shrewd manner, found a way to heighten the conflict between the werewolves and vampires; thus, guaranteeing that the war would forever keep both parties of creatures solely focused on each other. These heirlooms---these enchanted devices---were given to them. The werewolves originally possessed the crystal to spy on the vampires, and the vampires originally wielded the necklace, which could entrap the soul of the werewolves’ pack leader as long as they could get it in contact with him.

It has already been a little over two generations since each respective faction swapped the heirlooms. The wolf leader could now heighten his own strength, and the vampires could better coordinate their race’s social and political functions. The trade was not mutually agreed upon. Rather, it came about through a battle, the Battle of Abend, that resulted in a swap and no real gain in territory or power. The fallout, instead, caused a decade of peace in which both parties proverbially licked their wounds. Well, not so proverbial in the case of the werewolves.

And there I was in a dank and musky tavern offering the Armbrust Forest Werewolves the chance to be the first of the two sides of a demonic war to ever possess both heirlooms at the same time. Whoever said that pool playing was a waste of time?

“If it my decision,” Treu said in a slow and careful manner, “then I must decline the wager.” The tavern became loud with shouts not necessarily for or against his decision, but more as a release of tension. “Which is bad news for you, Blue Boy,” he smirked, “Because I have found a flaw in your logic. It may be true that, if we should decide to kill you, we risk the chance of never finding the second half of the Vampire Crystal, but we would have a half of it. Meaning, even if the Reische Family should know or discover the hiding spot of the second half of crystal, they will still need to defeat us for this half if they ever wish to have their enchantment working again.”

I blinked. “Oh. I guess I didn’t think of that,” I said. Great. Just Freakin’ great. It was bad news indeed. It is never a good sign when you defeated in logic by an animal that lifts its leg to urinate on shrubbery. “I suppose we couldn’t talk about this, right?’

Treu, for the second time that evening, started to walk towards me with a maliciously wide grin etched across his muzzle. I was enjoying flashes of the abridged version of my life when Frost spoke, saving my life.

“Treu. Wait. Have you completely lost your sense of adventure? Take a look at the pool table. You are an eight ball away from winning the game. Do you doubt your ability to sink that ball before this boy can catch up? You were right the first time. He may not be making up his story---at least, not all of it----, but he was buying himself with enough time to think of a way to get out of here. Let him have his life if it means that our people can finally be rid of those blood suckers.”

“Yeah, and he doesn’t mean lawyers,” I broke in.