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A Digimon Epic: The Gathering of Heroes (PG-13 Tentative)

Well, this is the first in a long time I've actually written a story and posted it somewhere. Hopefully, I can keep this up and add new chapters soon. If not, I'm sure there's someone out there who'll kick me to get to it (yes, Griff, I'm looking at you right now).

This is a branch off story from the rps Unholy Crusade (by storymasterb) and then of Devil's Ascent (by Kamotz), though reading through them isn't necessary. This can be a stand alone story and can be understood without having to read all that text. This takes place many many years before the actual beginning of said rps.

Now, just to be on the safe side (and hanging onto habit):

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. However, I do own Fenrir Weissritter, and Griff4815 owns Tiwaz Koenig. Both are our respective characters in the Unholy Crusade Trilogy. The rest of the characters are all co-owned by he and I, excluding the antagonists that will appear later in the story. They're mine.

Links to Chapters and Acts:
Prologue - Act 1: The Beginning of a Long Journey a.k.a. "What Am I Getting Myself Into?"
Prologue - Act 2: The Hermit a.k.a. "Are you crazy!? What am I saying? Of course you're crazy!"
Prologue - Act 3: Of Legends and Crazy Old Geezers a.k.a. "Fascinating? You call me almost getting burned to death fascinating?!"
Chapter I - Act 1: The Trembling Earth a.k.a. "My peaches! My delicious peaches! Heavenly sweet but fiendishly left unconsumed! They need me!"
Chapter I - Act 2: Between Foolishness and Bravery a.k.a. "It's...a pie."
Chapter I - Act 3: Depths of the Earth a.k.a. "How am I supposed to make you look substandard if you keep on making astonishing feats?"
Chapter II - Act 1: Explorer Exploring a.k.a. “So who are you and how did you get stuck with crazy over here?”
Chapter II - Act 2: Feud of the Forest a.k.a. “Are all aged Digimon crazy or am I really that unlucky?"
Chapter II - Act 3: Terror of the Relic a.k.a. "I did nothing! Ask the flying book!"
Side Chapter: Mapping Out The Journey a.k.a. "What is this offending ball of wool!?"
Chapter III - Act 1: A Chilly Reception a.k.a. "Your most sacred duty in life is to eat food?"
Chapter III - Act 2: An Ocean’s Worth Of Trouble a.k.a. "I’d hit them on the head with my trusty hammer."
Chapter III - Act 3: Cold War a.k.a. "Maybe there really is a method to his madness…or maybe he’s just plain insane."

Now, without further ado...


Before Tiwaz the Valiant, the dauntless salamander, indomitable trailblazer, wyrm of the burning heart, was an impulsive idealist who only wanted to better the world.

Before Fenrir the Vanguard, the stalwart knight, agile master of the twin claymores, paladin of purifying light, there was a wandering swordsman who only wished to keep to himself.

Before Cogwej the Knowledgable, the learned sage, intellectual extraordinaire, scholar of steel and knowledge, there was a no-name hermit whose research lost him a life with others.

Before Pavamana the Adamant, the immovable mountain, hero of the volcanic soul, shifter of earth and ground, there was a blacksmith who knew little outside the walls of his home.

Before the Taranis the Tenacious, the thundering insect, electrifying man for others, wielder of lightning and thunder, there was an explorer who constantly searched for the unknown.

Before Odysseus the Cunning, the hidden strategist, adept of tricks and plans, native of the trees and wood, there was a young ninja who yearned for confidence.

Before Boreas the Loyal, the glacial barrier, guardian of the weak and the strong, warrior of the frozen tundra, there was a barkeeper whose only excitement was through the stories of others.

Before Tethys the Daring, the lovely mermaid, beauty of the seas, maiden of the everlasting ocean, there was a woman that longed for the thrills of adventure.

Before Anemoi the Noble, the bringer of justice, mistress of the skies, princess of unrelenting winds, there was a noblewoman trapped behind social bars.

Before Dämmerung the Elusive, the silent assassin, master of the hidden blade, rogue of the shadows, there was a man who felt restrained by chains of a destiny.

Before The Great Ten, champions of the Ancient Digimon, masters of the ten elements, champions of ancient history, there was a ragtag group who found strength in one another towards their destiny.

This is their story. This is their beginning. This is…

The Gathering of Heroes


Act. 1: The Beginning of a Long Journey

Also known as

“What Am I Getting Myself Into?”

The day was clear and bright. Clouds were scarce, but despite that, it was not at all warm, especially with the gentle breeze blowing. The morning sun shone brightly down upon the giant form that was the Bakhu Mountain. Capped with snow and gradually transforming into the earthy brown and green of the world, it was a wonder to see. The wind, cooled by the snow of the mountain top, traveled down lazily, caressing would be travelers and climbers. It continued down to the base of the mountain where a grassy plain began and flourished. If one listened closely enough, one would be able to hear the soft whispers of the wind in one’s ear, as if they were trying to tell a secret that can only be shared once.

However, not everyone can have the luxury of being able to stand and appreciate the scenery.

“By Buri, how large is this mountain supposed to be!?”

The loud voice of an EmperorGreymon resounded against the mountain wall beside him, echoing and then traveling past him towards the open, grassy field on his other side. With an annoyed look and impatient gait, the imposing dragon man walked down the dirt path that was supposed to take him to the other side of the mountain.

Typical of the Greymon of his species, he wore heavy red breastplate with draconic likeness. His shoulders were adorned with large shoulder pads in the form of dragon heads with a horned snout and shield-like frills. Both hands wore large gauntlets in the shape of a more avian dragon with two horns above the eyes. The gauntlets themselves were wide with a blue base that acted like shields. Further below, he wore more draconic armor, the golden knee armor wide and strong. The final dragon-like feature on his armor was his greaves, which had a silver ring circumventing from the front of his foot to behind his ankle.

He wore the orange helmet of his species, complete with the horn at the snout as well as the steer like horns from the side of his head. Beneath his armor, he had clear blue eyes that relayed the strong and passionate emotions he felt. Setting him apart from others of his species and sitting on the top of his head, over his eyes, however, was a pair of goggles that not only set him apart but also gave him an aura of boldness.

“Just take the shortcut, he says. It won’t take an hour, he says. Next time I see him, I’ll show him what I think of what he says,” he growled as he stomped on, leaving deep footprints on the ground. “That is the last time I am asking directions ever again, winged explorer or not. I bet the bird-brained idiot can’t even tell between north and south, let alone up or down,” he continued to grumble as he trudged on, looking for any sign that the far end of path was going to show some form of civilization. While he wasn’t able to find one, he did see a pond shaded by the mountain’s wall after turning at the corner of the dirt path.

“Might as well rest the legs,” he told himself as he quickened his pace to reach the watering hole.

The EmperorGreymon knelt down beside the pond, putting his hands in them and relishing the coolness of the water. Seeing that the pond was clear and clean, he decided to take a drink of the refreshing water.

After sufficiently quenching his thirst, he sat against the mountain wall, his trusty broadsword propped up beside him. “Gonna need to be quick if those bandits I hear roaming these parts appear,” he told himself as rested his arm on a bent knee. Just to be sure, he took a look at one side of the dirt path, actually hoping to see scale or hide of something he can take his frustration of being lost out on. After a few minutes of silence, he rolled his eyes, put his hands behind his head and laid them against the mountain wall, disappointed at the lack of enemies to bring to justice.

He was beginning to find the sounds of the wind blowing down the mountain peaceful and relaxing. It even helped cool down his slightly tired body, passing through the crevices of his armor. He began to close his eyes, feeling the strain of having to walk for so long with little to eat.

“Maybe,” he started, stifling a yawn. “It won’t be too bad to take a short nap,” he finished his thought as he finally closed his eyes.


Along that very same path, another traveler was walking with what most people would consider a leisurely place. Yet if one were to look at his face, it would’ve been clear that his mind wasn’t as carefree as his gait.

The traveler was a Beowolfmon, complete with the golden dual-bladed sword and the Garurumon helmet. The helmet shone under the heavy sun rays, creating shadows through the eyeholes that displayed serious, dark red eyes that looked like they could literally glare daggers. Behind his head, blonde hair fell, blown by the wind.

His body was adorned by the usual Beowolfmon armor. Three-clawed boots were on his feet along with five-holed armor around his ankles. Adding more support to his legs were dark blue cuisse and leg armor with golden rings. Around his torso, along with light blue suit, was a black leather belt, followed by the light blue breast plate and the spherical shoulder pads.

On each of his arms was the specialized weaponry that made him a versatile fighter. On his right arm was a wolf-paw gauntlet that covered the upper side of his forearm, acting like a small shield, with a black gloved hand hidden underneath it. On his left was the light blue polygonal rocket launcher, giving him the long-ranged capability that made him a formidable fighter.

However, his armor was hidden under a worn out cloak that looked like it had suffered through all kinds of weather. It was the proof of a long and tiresome journey that didn’t look like it was going to end anytime soon.

“Just a little farther,” he muttered to himself, not looking away from the path in front of him. “And then…maybe then,” he trailed off, closing his eyes and stopping for a few seconds.

He then sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t want to raise his hopes up. He wasn’t going to raise his hopes up. Not anymore. Not for it to only be broken down again…and again…and again. Not this time. His other leads hadn’t gotten him any closer to finding what he had been searching for years. This might turn out the same…

…but he still had to try.

The Beowolfmon took a deep breath and exhaled, hoping to breathe out the thoughts in his head that would no doubt bring him a bad mood. He stepped forward once, nodded to himself, and then took another one. He would walk forward no matter what.

Of course, looking forward also meant looking at the ground in front of him, and the ground in front of him had heavy footprints on them…which meant that someone was ahead of him. The wolf warrior frowned. He didn’t want an audience when he went to do what he sought to do. He raised his head and took a deep sniff of the air, relying on the blood of the Garurumon running through his veins.

It wasn’t someone he recognized, that much he expected. He was able to identify the scent of a male Greymon, although he wasn’t able to tell much more other than that. He hoped that whoever it was long gone despite the fresh scent; Greymon he met previously have been both hotheaded and difficult to deal with.

Of course, after a few more meters of walking, the scent only got stronger. The clincher was the faint sound of armor clanging at the corner of the pathway. It wouldn’t have bothered him as much had the sound stopped right about where the turn was.

The Beowolfmon narrowed his eyes. Whoever it was, he was waiting for him at the bend. Well, he would have to show him that he wasn’t that easy to sneak up on.


Back to the resting dragon, he was actually enjoying his relaxing time. He didn’t need to sleep; he only needed to rest his eyes and body and let the sounds of nature do everything for him. Only, the sounds of nature didn’t normally include footsteps.

He began to hear footsteps coming from the corner that he had previously came from. He opened and narrowed his eyes and stood up as silently as he could, grabbing the hilt of his Dragon Soul Sword and standing close to the edge of the corner, sticking against the wall. Judging from the number of footsteps, he deduced that it was a single person.

If this guy’s one of those bandits, then maybe I can get him to tell me where their hideout is,’ he thought to himself. ‘Maybe this little detour isn’t so worthless after all,’ he added to himself as he readied a hand to grab whoever would come from the corner. At the sight of something appearing, he quickly reached out his hand to seize the stranger.

“What the?” he said, realizing that what he was holding wasn’t a person but a cloak. And quicker than he could react, another hand came from the corner and grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the corner. The EmperorGreymon used the momentum of the pull to free himself from the hold and jump away, readying his sword.

He found himself facing a blue-armored man, whose armaments had distinct features that likened him to a Garurumon. He also found that the newcomer also carried a sword with him, albeit a peculiar one that had two parallel golden blades with a single hilt.

“A Beowolfmon, huh?” the EmperorGreymon said as he studied the other warrior. “I always wanted to beat one of you.”

The Beowolfmon narrowed his eyes, but didn’t reply.

“What? Gatomon got your to- woah!”

The dragon wasn’t able to finish his sentence since the Beowolfmon decided that moment to attack. Stepping back to absorb the blow, the EmperorGreymon was barely able to block the double-bladed sword with his own, locking the two sword-wielders into a blade lock He grit his teeth; he didn’t think that the wolf warrior would be that fast.

Digging his feet into the ground, he pushed his blade forward, grinning when he realized that while the Beowolfmon was faster on his feet, he had the advantage when it came to strength. He was rewarded with the Beowolfmon having to step backwards, although he didn’t look like he was worried in the least. Giving another forceful push, the EmperorGreymon couldn’t help but say, “You picked the wrong guy to fight with, buddy.”

“You talk too much,” the Beowolfmon finally said with a deep, calm tone. And then he stepped quickly to the side, sliding their swords as the dragon man began to fall forward due to how much force he put behind his pushing. Watching as the dragon man stumbled forward to keep himself from kissing the ground, he added, “And I am not your buddy.”

Regaining his balance, the dragon man turned with his expression alight with a grin. “So you can talk, mutt. And here I thought you were so scared that you couldn’t speak!”

Without waiting for a reply, he put his hand in front of him, palm facing upwards. “Now, I’ll show you something good!” he announced, his eyes sparking red. “Ignite!

At his word, a ball of fire suddenly appeared over his hand. The Beowolfmon had to step back in surprise; as far as he knew, no EmperorGreymon could do that. At the very least, no normal EmperorGreymon could. The dragon man grinned.

“Surprised, huh? How about when I do this?” he said, tossing the ball of flame in the air, readying his blade behind him. As the sphere fell downwards, his eyes sparked, and he swung his broadsword to cut right through it.

As the Dragon Soul Sword started to slash downwards, the ball of fire took the form of a gargantuan blade of fire that was heading right towards the Beowolfmon.

The wolf warrior cursed and quickly jumped out of the way, barely escaping as the large fire blade sundered and singed the ground all the way from where he had jumped from to the front of the EmperorGreymon.

The Beowulfmon, seeing that the EmperorGreymon recharging after his attack, dashed towards him. Stopping right in front of him, he thrust his blades right at the dragon man’s chest. Fuelled by adrenaline, the EmperorGreymon quickly raised his shield-like gauntlet, and the blades slid across it before shooting right at the dragon man’s side at the cost of a long scratch across the hand armor.

Of course, he couldn’t exactly stop the rocket launcher that was aimed right at him at point blank. “Cleansing Light!” the Beowolfmon shouted at the top of his lungs as the EmperorGreymon was blown away. The recoil forced the wolf warrior, however, to get knocked backwards as well, although he was able to land on his feet, unlike the EmperorGreymon, who landed on his back.

“Party tricks aren’t going to help you,” the Beowulfmon told the recovering dragon man.

Growling, the EmperorGreymon stood back up and stabbed his weapon into the ground. “Time to rely on the tried and true,” he told himself as he stood at full height.

With a loud yell, he ran towards the wolf warrior, dragging the tip of the Dragon Soul Sword along the ground, creating a deep groove. The Beowolfmon readied his blade to make it easier for him to dodge or deflect. His opponent surprised him, however, when he slashed upwards just a foot earlier than he thought he would. As the EmperorGreymon’s sword swung upwards, the Beowolfmon was given a shower of dust and dirt, forcing him to shield his eyes.

Squinting, he saw that the dragon man had raised the broadsword up above his head, and the wolf warrior jumped to the side, avoiding getting cut into half when the EmperorGreymon cleaved the ground he was just standing on into two.

Rolling into a crouching position, the Beowolfmon his other arm pointed straight at the dragon man. “Cleansing Light!” he yelled out as light gathered briefly at the end before firing straight from his hand launcher towards the EmperorGreymon. Unable to get away in time, the dragon Digimon found himself getting struck by the light missile, getting himself thrown back by the blast into the mountain wall.

The Beowolfmon stood up, waiting for the smoke that his missile created to disperse, when the EmperorGreymon’s voice rang loud and clear. “Dragonfire Crossbow!”

With only that as a short warning, the Beowolfmon was able to bring his weapon up in time to block the blazing beam attack that pierced right through the smoke screen. The force of the beam proved too strong for him to hold off completely, however, and a few seconds later, his blade slipped and the beam blasted his chest, sending him flying and landing on his back.

“Heh, you’re not bad for a lowly bandit,” the EmperorGreymon said as the smoke finally scattered and he walked through.

“Bandit?” the Beowolfmon said, standing up with a raised eyebrow. He lowered his weapon slightly, though still poised to defend himself.

“What? Don’t like that?” the EmperorGreymon asked as he charged, sword brandishing. “How about thief? Marauder? Outlaw? I think mutt suits you better, though!” he said as he sent slashes and stabs at the wolf warrior.

The Beowolfmon narrowed his eyes, evading and parrying each attack with finesse and agility. “I am not a-“

“Heard it before, mutt! You’re not gonna get out of this- what the!?”

The Beowolfmon caught the EmperorGreymon’s sword between the two blades, and though the wolf man staggered slightly when the blade struck the hilt, he stood readily and trapped the Dragon Soul Sword to keep the goggled Greymon from retracting his weapon. With a growl of effort, he turned his weapon to the size and wrenched the broadsword from the dragon man’s grip, quickly flipping it over his shoulder. The blade clanged against his armor before flying over and embedding itself in the ground behind him. And then while the EmperorGreymon was still surprised by his tactic, the Beowolfmon hastily pointed his weapon straight at his neck.

Regaining his senses again, the EmperorGreymon glared at his opponent with a bit of respect in his eyes…although he would never readily admit it. “What, you think I don’t know how to fight without my sword? I’ll tell you right now that my fists are just as-“

“Shut up already,” the Beowolfmon interrupted him, breathing heavily. “Before I change my mind about what I’m going to do,” he added as he took deep breath.

The EmperorGreymon raised his eyebrow and was about to ask what he was talking about when the wolf man suddenly dropped his weapon as it landed between the two swordsmen, harmlessly landing on the grassy ground.

“What are you trying to pull?” the EmperorGreymon asked, eyeing the Beowolfmon suspiciously.

“I’m not a bandit. Or a mutt,” he added when the dragon man opened his mouth, which he suspected was to suggest the offensive title

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?” With folded arms, the gogglehead didn’t let his gaze to stray away.

Rolling his eyes, the Beowolfmon bent down to pick up his weapon – with the EmperorGreymon bracing himself for the trick to finally appear – and then started to walk away from him. Blinking, the dragon man stared at him.

“…That’s it?”


“H-hey, hold on a second! GET BACK HERE, MUTT!”


“So, you really aren’t one of those bandits that have been roaming around Mt.Bakhu?” the EmperorGreymon asked once again, his weapon sheathed behind him.

“What do you think?” the Beowolfmon beside him replied, his own weapon sheathed and wearing a cloak that still looked like it could do its job despite its worn out appearance. He didn’t return the EmperorGreymon’s look and only stared at the path in front of him.

“You made it easy to decide since you attacked me out of nowhere,” the EmperorGreymon said with a defensive tone.

“Says the one that hid behind the corner with his weapon drawn,” the Beowolfmon retorted.

“It could easily have been one of those troublemakers!” he replied, narrowing his eyes and challenging the Beowolfmon.

“Why are you following me?” the Beowolfmon asked, deciding not to continue the discussion lest they get into another fight.

“I was heading this way. It’s not my fault you decided to go through here,” the EmperorGreymon said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like you having something to hide. After all, you’re not a bandit, right?” he taunted.

“Look,” the Beowolfmon started, looking at him with an open mouth, pausing.

“Tiwaz. Tiwaz Koenig. Knight-errant and living nightmare of unlawful curs,” the EmperorGreymon introduced himself with a proud air. He pushed out his chest and walked with his back straight, a large grin behind his helmet.

“Look, Tiwaz, this path leads to a dead end,” he started as his stride got longer, hoping to sound just as dismissing as he felt. “Just turn back now before you waste not only your time but mine.”

“Then why are you going there?” Tiwaz asked curiously, speeding up to keep from getting left behind.

For a few seconds, the Beowolfmon stayed silent. And then with a sigh, he said, “There’s a house that a hermit lives in. I need to speak with him,” he informed the EmperorGreymon.

“About what?”

This time, the Beowolfmon steeled himself. “That’s none of your business.”

“Come on! Maybe it’s something I can help with,” Tiwaz said energetically.

“Definitely n-“

“Great!” Tiwaz cut him off. “It’s decided then! I’ll make sure that we get you to that hermit’s house safely and then bring you to the closest town so that you don’t have to lift a finger!”

“What are you-“

“I saw how much effort it took you to get my sword from my grip. I bet you don’t have a lot of stamina. What’ll you do if you get mobbed by those marauders? Me? I could just sweep ‘em all away with a single swing!”

“Will you list-“

“First thing’s first,” Tiwaz cut him short, walking ahead of him. “What’s your name?” he asked, stopping in front of the wolf man, hands on his hips and with his eyes smiling.

The Beowolfmon stared at him incredulously. And then with a grunt of irritation, he closed his eyes, ducked his head and pressed his fingers against his forehead. When he looked back up at the EmperorGreymon, who was still all smiles, he sighed and shook his head.

“Fenrir Weissritter,” he introduced himself, folding his arms.

“Fenrir, huh?” Tiwaz said. “Well, then, since we’ve got names out of the way, come on then. We’re wasting daylight!” he said, turning away and then walking down the path in earnest.

Fenrir stared at the dragon man disbelievingly. He looked up to the sky with a questioning look. “What did I get myself into?” he asked, getting the feeling that his meeting with the EmperorGreymon was going to lead to all sorts of trouble in his life.

“Hurry up, slow poke! I thought you Garurumon were supposed to be quick on your feet!”

“Don’t make me regret not knocking you out when I had the chance,” Fenrir muttered under his breath at the dragon man who was already many feet ahead of him.
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No. 1 Grovyle Fan
Well since I beta read this there's not a whole lot for me to comment on.

The description and use of words were all pretty fluent and good. The fight scene was well executed. I'm looking forward to the part with this mysterious hermit. xD

I am quite curious as to what Fenrir is searching for exactly. As for Tiwaz, aside from the few things I mentioned in the beta, you're handling his personality and speech patterns pretty well, so good job there. If you ever need a reference, Bigwig from Watership Down is a great fit, speech-wise. xD Hmm... would it be arrogant to say I found him amusing? =P

Hmm... I may have missed this earlier.

“Hurry up, slow poke! I thought you Garurumon were supposed to be quick on their feet!”
Should it be "on your feet"? I'm not entirely sure if that's wrong or not.

I don't think there's any other problems. Like you said, it's a bit short, but it's a prologue so that's okay. Anyways, I'm looking forward to the next chapter. You can count on me to nag you if you end up getting lazy. =P


God of Monsters
Nice, it's short, but that's to be expected with a prologue. My suggestion as this goes further on is to keep the perspective limited to either Fenrir or Tiwaz so we get a simple perspective of the story. Though you may already be planning this, in which case...good.

Have you talked with Griff as to when this takes place in terms of the timeline of this world's history?
I am quite curious as to what Fenrir is searching for exactly. As for Tiwaz, aside from the few things I mentioned in the beta, you're handling his personality and speech patterns pretty well, so good job there. If you ever need a reference, Bigwig from Watership Down is a great fit, speech-wise. xD Hmm... would it be arrogant to say I found him amusing? =P
In due time. And considering it's a character you meant to be amusing, then, no, not really. And I'll keep that in mind.

Maybe I'll bring in a rabbit character just to see how Tiwaz'll squirm. xD

Should it be "on your feet"? I'm not entirely sure if that's wrong or not.
...I thought I caught all of these already. *headdesks*

I don't think there's any other problems. Like you said, it's a bit short, but it's a prologue so that's okay. Anyways, I'm looking forward to the next chapter.
Nice, it's short, but that's to be expected with a prologue.
Ugh, I knew it was short. >.< I just hope it won't stay that way. Some of the Acts I planned out aren't that eventful, so I might try to see if I can expand on those sooner or later. Length seems to be one of the main differences with me when it comes to multi-chapters and oneshots.

You can count on me to nag you if you end up getting lazy. =P
Please. xD

My suggestion as this goes further on is to keep the perspective limited to either Fenrir or Tiwaz so we get a simple perspective of the story. Though you may already be planning this, in which case...good.
I'll probably come off as semi-omniscient in this story since that's how I'm used to writing stories. I don't plan on making things too complicated to understand, though, and once the characters are together, I'm not gonna suddenly be switching it from Tiwaz's POV, backtrack, and then have Fenrir's POV of the very same situation. That sounds detrimental and redundant to me, actually. Anyways, I'll try to do what you're asking.

Have you talked with Griff as to when this takes place in terms of the timeline of this world's history?
Yeah, I have. It should be around an estimated 800 years before the Milleniummon event. It's not that much of a big deal for me when, though, so if that's any problem, then just inform us. Not that it'll actually appear in the story, though.
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Act. 2: The Hermit

Also Known As

“Are you crazy!? What am I asking? Of course you’re crazy!”

“How much further is this house you told me about? We’ve been walking for hours,” Tiwaz announced as he once again spotted yet another corner that would most likely to lead to more of no where.

The pathway they treaded on had begun to rise along the mountain wall. The path grew wider, giving the two more than ample space between the wall and the edge of the cliff. The grassy field at their side, slowly but surely, had turned into a drop that was gradually getting higher the farther they went. With the growing altitude came the cooler temperature and the stronger wind, but that did nothing to cool down the tempers of the two travelers.

“It’s only been one hour and half,” Fenrir informed the EmperorGreymon in front of him.

Within that time, he had already decided that Tiwaz was especially more impatient compared with normal Greymon. He kept on speeding up, stopping to look at him, yelling at him to walk faster, walk at the Beowulfmon’s pace, and then repeating the first step in a never ending circle. The only thing that changed with every cycle was Fenrir’s growing irritation with the EmperorGreymon.

“And we could have reached the house by then if you walked faster!” Tiwaz told him, folding his arms and looking annoyed at the Beowolfmon.

Fenrir grit his teeth and returned his look. “I didn’t ask you to come with me,” he told him. “Feel free to go on ahead and get lost again.”

“I did not get lost! Some stupid bird just gave me wrong directions,” Tiwaz huffed as he glanced at the side.

“Or maybe you’re too stupid to figure out simple directions,” Fenrir muttered to himself as he passed the other Digimon.

“What did you say?” Tiwaz asked lowly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the wolf man.

Fenrir stopped and clenched his fists. “I knew it was a bad idea to let you come with me,” he said, making sure that Tiwaz heard him.

“Well, sorry for trying to help!” Tiwaz retorted heatedly, boring holes at the back of Fenrir’s head with his gaze.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” Fenrir spat back, not bothering to look at the dragon man behind him. “Try to help when people don’t need it, let alone even want it.”

“Why don’t you say that in front of my face, mutt,” Tiwaz challenged him, walking so that he was just a foot behind the Beowolfmon. His hands were clenched tight, head was ducked, and his eyes were narrowed dangerously at him. “Then we’ll see what you-“

“You want to know what I see?” Fenrir interrupted him, turning around with his own glare. “I see an arrogant, hotheaded, impatient, hero-wannabe, lizard who doesn’t know how to keep his meddlesome hands to himself.”

“That’s a whole lot better than being a no respecting, judgmental, thinks-he-knows-it-all, socially inept, snow-as-snails, mongrel!”

The Beowolfmon narrowed his eyes. “You don’t even know me,” he told the EmperorGreymon.

“Well, isn’t this the pot calling the kettle black,” Tiwaz retorted, stepping up so that they were almost toe to toe.

“I know enough to understand that we are not going to get along, so why don’t you just save both of us valuable time and go back right now,” Fenrir told him, not backing down.

“Maybe I will!”

“Then go!”



“What are you waiting for?” Fenrir asked, with his eyes narrowed.

“For you to get out of my face!” Tiwaz said, his patience finally lost in a sea of indignation towards the wolf in front of him. Before he even had time to think about it, he had already placed his hands in front of him to shove the Beowolfmon away.

Stumbling backwards and just barely keeping himself from falling, Fenrir looked at Tiwaz with an astonished gaze. He took a deep breath and hardened his gaze. If Tiwaz were looking close enough, he would have seen the faint veil of light that surrounded the Beowolfmon, or he might have decided it was only the bright light of the sun shining over them.

“You…should not have done that,” Fenrir told the EmperorGreymon in a dangerously monotone voice, his fists clenching and unclenching alternatively. He just about had enough with the dragon man.

“Like you’ll do anything about it, you pansy,” Tiwaz said, folding his arms. He let out a smirk. “See? You’re not even going to defend yourself!” he said, seeing the Beowulfmon take his weapon and embed it into the ground. He then unbuckled his rocket launcher from his left arm, letting it drop with a loud thump on the ground beside him. To the dragon man, that meant that Fenrir was conceding.

Oh, how wrong he was.

“I don’t need my sword to do this,” Fenrir then told him, taking a fighting stance.

Tiwaz’s smile dropped, and his expression turned into a disbelieving one. “You really think you can beat me in a fist fight? Just look at those arms of yours – they’re scrawny!” he taunted, unfolding his arms. Then another grin on his face appeared. “But if you’re so willing to get your ass handed to you by yours truly, then go ahead! I’m going to enjoy putting you in your place!”

“I’m not the one who’s going to be put in his place,” Fenrir replied, agilely dashing towards Tiwaz and burying his gauntleted right fist into Tiwaz’s torso, right at the area where his armor didn’t cover him. The dragon man doubled over, unable to control the reflex after being struck right in his solar plexus. He did, however, see that Fenrir was readying yet another punch, and he was able to raise a hand to catch it right before it intercepted with his face.

“Didn’t hurt,” Tiwaz lied through his teeth, and he returned the Beowolfmon’s attack with his own open-handed strike at Fenrir’s gut, causing the Beowolfmon to let out a grunt. And then with a roar of effort, the dragon man straightened his body, bringing Fenrir airborne and then back into the ground behind him with a slam.

Wincing at the pain, Fenrir’s back met the ground with a loud thud, the back of his head painfully meeting the ground. Were it not for his helmet, he might have ended with more than just a bump.

“Had enough?” Tiwaz asked over him, smugly folding his arms.

Not yet,” Fenrir replied, reaching out to grab Tiwaz’s ankle. With surprising strength that Tiwaz had not expected, the wolf man was able to pull his leg from under him, causing him to meet the same fate that Fenrir had, albeit in a less painful way.

“How’s that for scrawny arms?” Fenrir asked, suddenly kneeling over Tiwaz’s chest. He then grabbed the horn on Tiwaz’s maw and pulled his head up, and then without warning, used the flat of his palm to smack his nose and force the dragon man’s head to slam back into the ground. His helmet kept any major injury from being caused, but the hard metal and ringing of steel was enough to make the dragon man grimace.

“Get – off - me!” Tiwaz growled, grabbing Fenrir’s arms. He pulled his legs up and then pushed them up, effectively tossing Fenrir over his head.

Fenrir landed with a roll that sent him facing the mountain wall. Shaking his head to regain his senses, he sat up. He then opened his eyes when he heard a yell that promised a lot of pain.

Deciding to act as quick as possible, he lay back again and then brought his legs above, using the momentum to get into back handspring. Landing on his feet, he was able to see Tiwaz’s aerial form jumping in the air, his two fists acting like a hammer and smashing the ground, creating cracks on the rocky floor.

Fenrir dashed towards him as Tiwaz caught his breath. He jumped into the air to execute a jump kick that landed on Tiwaz’s crossed arms, which the dragon man had been able to bring up just in the nick of time. Landing back on the ground, Fenrir performed an axe kick that Tiwaz blocked with the use of his gauntlet, making the foot slide against it to the side. However, Fenrir quickly followed it with a side kick at his torso that slammed the EmperorGreymon into the side of the wall. Seeing that Tiwaz was still recovering, Fenrir begun to spin around once, and then he leapt into the air, sending a roundhouse kick at Tiwaz’s face.

“Not again, mutt!” Tiwaz told him. Instead of making contact, Fenrir’s foot was caught by Tiwaz, who used the wall to support his back. With Fenrir still in the air, Tiwaz threw him to the side.

The Beowolfmon once again met the ground with a thud, though he was able to bring himself to a stand quick enough to properly bring his gaze back onto his foe. Said foe was breathing hard and regaining energy, glaring at the wolf warrior.

Then with a roar, the EmperorGreymon then charged, fist raised in the air. Readying himself, Fenrir stepped backwards to brace himself. He then felt the stepping of his foot give way, and it was only then that he remembered that he and Tiwaz were fighting on a pathway with a side that led straight down.

Fenrir stumbled backwards and before Tiwaz’s eyes, his foot, then his leg, his body, and finally his head vanished under the edge of the path. “H-hey! We’re not done here!” Tiwaz called out, his rage suddenly disappearing. The EmperorGreymon continued his run until he was at the edge of the cliff, and then he looked down.

“Hey, mutt! You okay?” he asked, getting on his knees. After a second, he spotted the Beowolfmon against the cliff face, a hand gripping tightly against a hole in the stony wall. He wasn’t that far from the edge, but it was far enough that it looked like his free arm wouldn’t be able to reach it.

Fenrir looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. If his eyes could speak, they’d have said, ‘What do you think?

“Right, stupid question,” Tiwaz said, looking around to see if there was anything he could use to pull the other Digimon up. Finding nothing, Tiwaz then lay down against the cliff face and stretched his arm at the other Digimon. “Quick,” he told Fenrir.

Fenrir, however, narrowed his eyes, and then he started to look around him, searching for a place to help him up.

“What are you doing? Are you deaf!? Grab my hand!” Tiwaz ordered, his expression incredulous. Instead of complying, Fenrir continued his search. “Look! Get your stubborn, proud head, along with that meter long stick, out of your ass before you take a shortcut to the center of the earth!”

At his words, Fenrir turned back at him, his eyes hard as steel and dark with barely concealed fury. “I am not going to accept help from someone that doesn’t know how to give respect,” Fenrir told him before returning to the task at hand. If he only had his sword, he’d be able to pull himself up.

“What are-“ Tiwaz started, before yelling in exasperation. If he had hair, he might have already started pulling at it. “I don’t like you even if your fighting skills are better than your people skills, but I am not going to be responsible for you or your ugly mug dying! So just take the damn hand!

The Beowolfmon turned back to him, an eyebrow raised. On one hand, he was sorely tempted to make a scathing retort, and on the other, he was certain that he heard a compliment in that insult. After a few seconds, however, to Tiwaz surprise, Fenrir grasped his hand tightly.

“You better not drop me,” Fenrir warned him as he began to pull himself up with Tiwaz’s help.

A few minutes later, both Digimon were sitting side by side, across the cliff face, leaning against the mountain wall, and panting heavily. Other than the sound of their breathing and the blowing wind, there was an awkward silence between them.

Beside Tiwaz, Fenrir finally breathed a hard breath. He then stood up, looking down the pathway. “Let’s get going,” he said, acting as if the fight and his almost fall just moments ago hadn’t happened at all.

Tiwaz looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Wait, what?” he asked, pulling himself up.

“We’re wasting travel time,” Fenrir told him as he started walking, much to Tiwaz’s chagrin.

“You mean to tell me that-“

“I appreciate what you did for me,” Fenrir cut him off, his head slightly turned towards his shoulder. Tiwaz looked at him with stunned silence.

“Now, we should get going before nightfall,” the Beowolfmon continued, putting an emphasis on the second word. “These paths are much more dangerous at night, especially when it would be hard to see the edge of the path when it’s dark.”

Tiwaz grinned a smug grin. “I knew you’d see it my way, sooner or later!” he said, hands on his hips.

Out of his view, Fenrir rolled his eyes. “Don’t push your luck. Now come on,” he told him as he started walking again.


Another hour had passed. Unlike the previous house before their fight, their walk was relatively uneventful, with Tiwaz being decidedly less impatient and eager to get moving, although it seemed like he was putting a lot of effort into staying at least a few feet in front of Fenrir.

Some things can’t be helped,’ Fenrir supposed as he turned his head to look at the view.

The pathway had turned in a way that allowed him the view of the west where the sun had already begun to set. The sky had begun to paint itself with the colors of the setting ball of fire: deep red, soft orange, soothing purple, soft pink. The clouds themselves took darker colors that contrasted pleasantly with the pastel hues of the sky. It looked like a masterpiece painting done by an artisan expert among experts.

“It’s beautiful, Remus.”

Fenrir halted in shock. He looked around wildly, searching for the origin of the voice.

“Something wrong?” Tiwaz asked, who had turned to him when the sound of his footsteps had ceased. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“I,” Fenrir started, turning to him with an unfocused gaze. “I thought I... Did you hear a voice?” he asked, looking nervous.

Tiwaz raised an eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about? There’s no one here but us!”

Fenrir scrutinized him, trying to see if the dragon man was kidding, and then he shook his head. Tiwaz would have no reason to do so, especially not in the situation they were in. The Beowolfmon closed his eyes and shook his head, pressing a palm against the side of his head.

“Well?” Tiwaz asked, regaining his attention.

“It’s nothing important. I’m just…tired,” Fenrir lied, turning back to him looking calm. “The destination should be close by now. We should hurry up.” Without waiting for a reply, Fenrir passed Tiwaz and continued walking down the path at a hastier pace.

He’s hiding something,’ Tiwaz thought as he stared at the Beowolfmon, boring holes in the wolf man’s back as if the truth would spill if he looked hard enough. It took him a moment to realize that Fenrir was already leaving behind, and he ran to catch up with him, yelling for him to wait up.

The duo quietly continued on, with Tiwaz frequently glancing at the Beowolfmon and Fenrir ignoring said glances and not looking away from the path in front of him. It was obvious that he didn’t want to fill the silence between them with any conversation. Tiwaz would have picked up on it even if he were blind; it was as if Fenrir was surrounded by a bubble that was meant to keep everyone else from approaching him.

Tiwaz rolled his eyes. Well, he knew that the Beowolfmon certainly wasn’t someone who would actively, or even passively, seek out the presence of others. He would definitely need to remedy that.

Minutes later, Tiwaz began to get eager and impatient again. With the comfortable silence gone and replaced with a tense atmosphere generated by Fenrir’s passive-aggressive aura, he had begun to feel the need to move and act and get things done faster. At the sight of the next corner, he opened his mouth to ask if they were going to arrive any time soon.

“Open the damn door!”

Tiwaz blinked. That was not what he was going to say. That wasn’t even his voice.

He turned to Fenrir, who turned to give him the same suspicious look. They both heard it. That was good. He wasn’t going crazy. The EmperorGreymon the nodded at him, and simultaneously, both jogged until they were both at the edge of the corner.

Fenrir, who had reached there first, stuck close to the wall. He leaned over and peeked over the corner to see what was going on. He stifled a grunt when Tiwaz suddenly pushed against him to get a better look, and he grit his teeth to keep himself from barking at him to get back.

Much to Tiwaz’ relief, they had finally reached their destination. The corner had turned into a wide spaced area that was surrounded by the high walls of the mountain, and in the center of the area was a hut. The building itself didn’t look all that large. It was made with wood that seemed to be sturdier than it looked, and it had a gray brick chimney that was vigorously blowing white smoke into the sky (Tiwaz would later growl at himself for not noticing it sooner). The house had two windows visible from the front, though those were peculiarly boarded up. The front door looked to be made from the same wood as the rest of the house. There was a sign in front of it that had the white letters of the words “I don’t have any money or food, so don’t come knocking unless you’re here to offer me some!” messily painted on it. Perhaps the biggest oddity of the house was the various, glowing drawings and lines on different places on it.

What drew the duo’s attention more, however, was the imposing group of twelve standing in front of the house. Fenrir narrowed his eyes, trying to identify them. He could easily recognize seven of them: four Ogremon and three BlueMeramon. Three more looked like darker versions of Monzaemon, a species that he had already met before. He assumed that meant they were WaruMonzaemon. At the very front of their group were two scythe-wielding ghost-like Digimon, one of which was decidedly made of steel rather than of any ghastly essence, a MetalPhantomon and a Phantomon.

Fenrir cursed. This was a whole lot more of an audience than he’d have liked…though whether these were the average kind of crowd was a question in itself. And then he remembered.

“The bandits!” Tiwaz whispered harshly behind him. “It’s got to be them! We’ve gotta-“

“Shush!” Fenrir said, putting a hand in front of the Greymon. “I’m listening,” he told the dragon man, who only narrowed his eyes.

Back at the house, the MetalPhantomon was banging his fist against the door. “I said, open up, you old geezer!” he ordered with his steely, raspy voice. “Before I break this door down!”

“Ha!” a muffled voice said. Fenrir couldn’t hear quite properly, but the voice was loud enough that he could roughly make out the words. “Like an ignorant science display of a skeleton like you can even break down this door! You’re better off being used to identify the partitions of a bipedal humanoid body in an education facility! Oh wait, you’re not even competent enough for that; you don’t have any legs!”

“Why, I oughta!” the MetalPhantomon growled, his clenched fist shaking in front of him in anger. “Heinrich!” he called out, still glaring at the door.

The Phantomon behind suddenly flinched and, in surprise, threw his scythe in the air. Realizing this, Heinrich flailed, trying to place himself where the scythe would land so that he could catch it, while the Digimon behind him scrambled as not to be the unfortunate target. When the bladed weapon came down, the Phantomon was easily able to catch it, showing his expertise.

“Heinrich! Are you listening!?” the MetalPhantomon yelled, turning over his shoulder to look at the other Phantomon.

“Yes, brother Dietrich,” the other ghost Digimon replied with an eager nod.

“For a thousandth time, it’s boss, not brother!” the MetalPhantomon exclaimed, pointing his own energy scythe at the Phantomon.

“Y-yes! Of course, boss!” the MetalPhantomon’s younger brother amended quickly. “What do you want me do to?”

“You study magic, didn’t you? Well, do something about this blasted old man’s runes!” Dietrich ordered, gesturing to the glowing runes all over the house.

“I can’t!” the Heinrich said, cringing when the older brother glowered at him. “T-the book we stole d-doesn’t say anything a-about barriers. And e-even if it did, I d-don’t even know how t-to use magic,” he tried to explain, floating backwards and away from the seething MetalPhantomon.

“And even if you did, you wouldn’t even be potent enough to go against this kind of magic! It’s the good, ancient stuff! So why don’t you just go along and haunt some ancient manse on top of a dreary old mountain instead of my home!” the voice behind the door once more pitched in.

“Graaaagh! Shut up, old man! Soul Predator!” the MetalPhantomon yelled, swinging his scythe three times, the energy blade crackling as three violent waves at the house.

The attack sped towards the house, but as it connected, the runes shone brighter, blinding those outside unlucky enough to look hard. A yellow field of energy appeared around the house, absorbing the impact of the attack, and sizzled as it forced the waves to dissipate. Then it disappeared, and the runes returned to their normal glow.

“See? I told you so!” the voice declared. “Now shoo! Fly away! Stop bothering me!”

Enraged, the MetalPhantomon screamed bloody murder and raised his plasma arms and weapon in the air and flailed madly. If he had legs, he would have been stomping the ground until cracks formed underneath.

“I’ve just about had it with you! Your barrier can’t last forever! Not when it has to deal with a nonstop assault of attacks!” Dietrich said, slamming the end of his scythe into the ground. “Okay, boys! Get ready to give it all you’ve got! We’re gonna break down this house if it’s the last thing we ever do!”

The bandits behind him gave a cheer of gusto as they all readied their attacks. Ogremon raised their clubs, Warumonzaemon prepared corrupt, dark energy hearts, BlueMeramon charged their flames, and Heinrich brandished his scythe.

Behind them and still in hiding, Tiwaz was gripping Fenrir’s shoulder tightly. “We got to go! Now!” he whispered heatedly in Fenrir’s ear.

“We can’t just charge in there,” Fenrir replied calmly, looking around.

“Yes, we can! If we don’t, that house might break down, barrier or no barrier!”

“We need a plan! Going in there unprepared will only increase the risk of-“

“Who dares, wins! Just follow my lead!” Tiwaz suddenly said, suddenly rushing past Fenrir, who looked at him incredulously.

The MetalPhantomon nodded at his bandits, seeing each of them were ready to fire off their most powerful attacks. Dietrich grinned madly as he pointed his scythe at the house. “Ready? A-“

Dragon Fire Crossbow!”

Right in the center of their group, the flaming attack exploded. Ogremon and WaruMonzaemon were blown away, the BlueMeramon, being flame-based Digimon, and the two ghostly brothers enduring the shockwave that threatened to slam them into the ground.

“What in all of damndest hell now!?” the Dietrich yelled, turning at the newcomer.

“Um, ‘damndest’ isn’t a word,” Heinrich told him, and then cringed back when the MetalPhantomon gazed upon him with enraged eyes.

“Well!?” Dietrich continued, glaring daggers at the EmperorGreymon that had dared attack he and his bandits. “What do you want, you overgrown lizard!?”

“That’s mister overgrown dragon to you, bonehead,” Tiwaz retorted, lowering his weapon to survey the damage he had done. He hadn’t done much. He had created a small, blackened crater, and apart from a lot of bruises and some minor injuries, all of the bandits were still up and raring to fight. “And I’m here to stop you guys from making a big mistake,” he answered, brandishing his blade.

“Will the number of idiots and pests today never cease to increase!?” the MetalPhantomon roared, his clenched fists shaking.

“Who are you calling an idiot!?” Tiwaz asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t see anyone else in front of me that is stupid enough to attack a group that outnumbers him one to eleven.”

“One to- what the!?” Tiwaz said, turning behind him. He didn’t see Fenrir at all, and he had expected the Beowolfmon to follow him when he went a’charging. He grit his teeth. “That stupid, cowardly mongrel!” he yelled.

The EmperorGreymon turned back to them, his eyes narrowed and his weapon ready. “I don’t need him! I can handle all of you lowlifes myself!” he declared.

With his brother beside him, the MetalPhantomon went at the front of the group, carrying his scythe in both hands. “You’re not gonna last long, lizard. BlueMeramon, with me!” he called out as the trio of flame Digimon stepped forward. “Heinrich, lead the WaruMonzaemon and Ogremon and handle the house. I’m gonna teach the lizard what happens to those that try to meddle in my business.”

“I-I would, b-but-“

“What now!?” he demanded, looking over his shoulder. His question was answered when he spotted two of the Ogremon bandits he recruited dissipating into data that was blown away by the wind. Both club wielding Digimon both looked like they had gone through a shredder. “The hell!?”

And then he was treated to the sight of a flash of light zooming past the last two Ogremon, both of which getting the same treated the same and consequently experiencing the same death as its brethren with a scream.

“No! Grywald! Havelch!” the MetalPhantomon proclaimed, turning back. “Show yourself, bastard!”

“Very well,” a voice familiar to Tiwaz said before missiles of light crashed into the ground in front of the hut, exploding and causing Heinrich and the WaruMonzaemon to retreat until they were back to back with Deitrich and the BlueMeramon. Smoke billowed from the attacks and was blown away, revealing the wolf man that appeared.

“I knew you weren’t going to leave me hanging!” Tiwaz called out to Fenrir, a grin behind hid helmet.

“Don’t assume I did this for your sake,” Fenrir replied to the dragon man, his gaze on the bandits between them. “They’re much easier to deal with when attacked from the front and back.”

“You’ll pay for that!” Dietrich called out, raising his scythe in the air. “Soul Predator!” he yelled, firing off the waves of energy at the Beowolfmon.

Like the shooting of a racing pistol, his attack signaled the onset of battle, Tiwaz charging with a war cry whilst Fenrir dashed towards the oncoming attacks aimed at him. The Beowolfmon evaded, jumped and sidestepped before any of the attacks could connect. He then took out the Beo Sabre, swing it upwards to lock his weapon with Dietrich’s energy scythe.

“I’ll kill you,” the MetalPhantomon declared, his hateful eyes glaring at the Beowolfmon that stared back emotionlessly.

“Unlikely,” Fenrir replied, angling his sword and putting enough power in a swing to force the MetalPhantomon backwards. Then he spun around, driving his blades into the ground and then back up, sending dirt and rock into the eyes of two WaruMonzaemon that were about to stab his back with their claws. Then he continued his turn, using the momentum he gained from his spin to slam his weapon with the energy scythe that was about to cut into him.

Once more in a weapon lock, he raised his rocket launcher towards the recovering Digimon behind him. The weapon started to create mechanized sounds as light gathered at the tip of the barrel. “Cleansing Light,” Fenrir said, not looking away from the enemy in front of him.

The projectiles fired and landed right at the center of one of the WaruMonzaemon, obliterating the stuffed toy in a blast and sending the other flying towards another evil bear-like Digimon and knocking both of them into the ground.

“Gragh!” the MetalPhantomon roared, putting much more force onto his weapon.

Fenrir narrowed his eyes, and he was about to slide the weapon off and attack once more, but he decided to jump backwards instead when he spotted in his peripheral vision. The MetalPhantomon quickly did the same before a blast of flame swept past him.

“Watch it!” Fenrir yelled at the EmperorGreymon that had been evading, enduring and duking it out with the trio of BlueMeramon.

“Why don’t you watch yourself better?” Tiwaz retorted as he swung his Dragon Soul Sword at one of them, seeing Fenrir return to his duel with the MetalPhantomon at the side of his vision. “Stop jumping around, you damn walking campfire!” he yelled out loud as the BlueMeramon dodged his weapon.

Behind the EmperorGreymon, the other two BlueMeramon were gathering blazing spheres of fire in their hands. “Cold Flame!” they yelled in unison, firing the freezing flame at him.

Tiwaz spun into a three sixty spin, his sword outstretched into a horizontal slash that cut both spheres in half. A second later, the spheres flared, completely surrounding Tiwaz in a blue, blazing hot fire.

The two BlueMeramon grinned in triumph. That is, before it was wiped away by the sight of the red-eyed EmperorGreymon walking right out of the fire, covered head to toe by their very own azure flames and looking very much like an enflamed demonic dragon straight out of their nightmares.

“You call this a flame?” Tiwaz growled, his imposing figure approaching the two BlueMeramon who were paralyzed by fear. They had never seen anyone do that with their own flames. “I’ve walked through infernos ten times hotter than this and back without getting a single burn on me!” he enlightened them as he suddenly charged towards them.

With a roar, he swung his flame-coated sword at one of them, knocking it away, and then he slammed the end of his hilt into the gut of the other one, causing the fire Digimon to double over before a flaming uppercut sent it flying into the air. He then grabbed his weapon with both hands, the blue fire around him gathering in a large blaze at the blade of the Dragon Soul sword, though he himself was still covered in it.

Hurricane Flame!” he yelled out, pointing the weapon at the airborne BlueMeramon.

As he did so, the fire around his weapon blazed, turning into a flaming tornado that flew towards its target before crashing into its center, trapping the flame Digimon within the spinning inferno. Then with a roar, Tiwaz swung the blade once more, bringing the burning hurricane with it. He swept the flame across the field in front of him, catching the other two BlueMeramon and the remaining WaruMonzaemon in the hurricane’s snare, before causing it to crash loudly against the wall of the mountain in a large explosion that not only decimated two of the BlueMeramon and one of the WaruMonzaemon and severely damage the other two, but also rocked the whole mountain.

Though Fenrir was able to ignore Tiwaz’s display of raw power, needing to focus on the MetalPhantomon in front of him, he wasn’t able ignore the small quake that Tiwaz created and tripped backwards while he blocked a slash from Dietrich, who did not have Fenrir’s problem due to his ability to levitate.

He landed on his back when the quake ended. He shook his head quickly and looked up, finding himself about to get impaled by the metallic ghost Digimon’s scythe. He quickly rolled to the side as the energy blade embedded itself deeply into the ground, and he quickly stood up while Dietrich recovered his weapon. He readied his blade to slash at the other Digimon before the scythe-wielder could react, but then the MetalPhantomon opened his mouth wide.

Grave Scream!” Dietrich wailed as his voice amplified itself to ear-shattering levels. To Fenrir, who had enhanced hearing and was in proximity with the MetalPhantomon, it was like blunt-edged daggers being driven into his ears. He dropped the Beo Sabre and fell to his knees, pressing his hands against the sides of his head.

Dietrich ended his wail, but the aftereffects on Fenrir caused him to be as vulnerable as a newborn baby. “I always knew that having really good hearing was a bad thing,” Deitrich said, raising his scythe in the air to deal the finishing blow. “Di-gwaaah!”

The MetalPhantomon felt something blast his side, though it wasn’t strong enough to knock him away. It was a big enough irritation, however, that he turned towards the direction it came from, and he saw Tiwaz pointing his Dragon Soul Sword at him.

The EmperorGreymon was no longer clad in blue fire, though his eyes still held the bright red shine. At the tip of his weapon, a ball of blue fire hovered, fluctuating and blazing wildly. “Get away from the mutt, you bag of bones,” Tiwaz ordered.

Deitrich, however, wasn’t listening to him and instead looked at the unconscious Meramon and Ogremon, lower forms of the henchmen that he had left, behind the dragon man. His rage grew.

“You! What have you done with my men!? Soul Predator!” he screeched at the top of his voice, sending a larger wave of energy at him. With a yell of his own, Tiwaz fired the blue fireball. The sphere collided with the wave in an explosion that caused dust and smoke to get kicked up, although it quickly settled back onto the ground.

Dietrich eyed Tiwaz with hate-filled glare, and then with a yell, he dashed towards the dragon man. In the next second, he was then pulled back, his cloak suddenly at his neck and restricting him from moving forward. “What the-“ he started, turning to his back, only for the side of his face to suddenly meet with a cold surface.

“That hurt,” Fenrir said, his free hand gripping tightly around the MetalPhantomon’s billowing cloak while his rocket-launcher mounted arm was pressing against the ghost Digimon’s head. Down the side of his face, one could see a trail of blood running down. “Cleansing Light!”

With a blast, the MetalPhantomon was sent flying, his weapon flying and his cloak ripping where the Beowolfmon held it. He crashed into the ground, creating a deep trench as he skidded to a stop. Deitrich didn’t move, but his body didn’t phase or disperse the way it would when he would’ve died. Fenrir stared at the ghost Digimon on the ground.

“Hey, Fenrir!” Tiwaz called, running over to the wolf man. “You’re bleedi- where’re you going!?”

Fenrir had begun to approach the MetalPhantomon, retrieving his Beo Sabre along the way, and then he stood right over him. He gave the unconscious Digimon an expressionless gaze as he raised his weapon, aimed to stab him where his digicore would be.

“Stop right there, Fenrir,” Tiwaz ordered behind him. “We did it. We won already. We don’t need to kill him,” he said, his voice slightly tinged with the tone of a warning.

“We can’t allow him to survive. He’s dangerous,” Fenrir replied, though he didn’t make a single move.

“So are we,” Tiwaz retorted.

Fenrir didn’t reply. Instead, a tense silence had begun fall upon them. Fenrir grit his teeth, and then he said, “Sometimes people can’t afford to be merciful.” He readied his weapon to thrust downwards.

Tiwaz was about to grab the wolf man by the shoulder, but he knew he wouldn’t be fast enough to stop the Beowolfmon in time. And then he saw a blur dash at the side and stop right where Fenrir’s blade was about to pierce through. Although startled, Fenrir was barely able to stop himself in time, the tips of his weapon just an inch away from a Phantomon’s face.

It was Heinrich. It was then that both Fenrir and Tiwaz realized that they hadn’t seen cloth or hide of the Phantomon during the battle, which meant that the ghost Digimon had hidden somewhere during all the fighting and only now came out.

Don’t kill him!” Heinrich pleaded, placing himself right between Fenrir and the MetalPhantomon. “P-please, don’t k-kill my b-big b-brother. Please! I-I’ll do a-anything! P-please!” he begged. His whole body was shaking madly in fear, but he didn’t move from the spot that walled the killing weapon from his the MetalPhantomon.

Fenrir stared at him. And for a few seconds of silence, they stayed that way. Heinrich then flinched, sensing the Beowolfmon move. Only…he felt nothing. No piercing pain, no agonizing injury. He opened his eyes, seeing the Beowolfmon walking away and walking towards the hut.

“Hey, kid!”

Heinrich flinched once more at Tiwaz’s voice, before he turned to the EmperorGreymon with fearful eyes. “Y-yes?”

“Get yourself and your buddies out of here before the mongrel changes his mind,” Tiwaz told him.

“I-I will!” Heinrich said, spinning around as his cloak suddenly spread out and covered his brother’s body. The runes inside the cloak suddenly glowed brightly, and the MetalPhantomon suddenly disappeared, much to Tiwaz’s surprise.

“How did…?”

“M-my cloak is m-magical. I-it allows m-me to t-travel through d-different spatial dimensions,” Heinrich explained as he quickly went to the two remaining henchmen and did the same to them. He then turned to Tiwaz. “Thank you for showing us mercy!” he said thankfully as his cloak started to surround him before he, too, disappeared.

“Magic, eh?” Tiwaz said as he turned to Fenrir, who was now standing in front of the hut. “Hey, Fenrir!” he called out, jogging towards the Beowolfmon.

The wolf man didn’t bother a reply and instead looked at the hut with observant eyes. He looked at the boarded windows and the runes, trying to see if the occupant inside was visible through any of the many holes and crevices the hut had.

“So, the guy you’re looking for is in here, eh?” Tiwaz asked, putting his hands on hips. He then noticed the sign in front of the door. “What kind of guy asks for food from his visitors? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

“He’s in there,” Fenrir then told the EmprorGreymon, ignoring what he said. “I heard him.”

Tiwaz eyed him. “You did?”

Fenrir nodded, not looking away from the hut. “I know you’re inside the building. Please open your door. We mean you no harm,” he said, watching and listening for any reaction. “I only want to ask you something.”


“Come on, be grateful! We just saved your house!” Tiwaz tried, looking around.

More silence.

“Damn, and we went through all that trouble,” the dragon man muttered, folding his arms in a huff.

“We should try-“ Fenrir said, but he stopped when his eyes caught motion from above.

“Try wh-…I must have used a lot more energy than I thought if I’m hallucinating,” Tiwaz said, blinking in disbelief at the object that was currently hovering right over them. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It’s a book,” Fenrir enlightened the dragon man, though he was just as surprised by the situation as well.

The levitating object, indeed, was a leather bound book that looked to be of average size. The side that was facing them had words and lettering that neither Digimon recognized. The surface looked worn and used, though it amazingly didn’t have any tears.

“Maybe we should- gwah!” Tiwaz yelled in surprise, about to touch the floating object right before it suddenly doubled in size. “It grew!” he said, grabbing the hilt of his weapon.

Fenrir did the same, jumping away when it grew once more. The book continued to grow larger and larger right in front of their eyes. In a matter of seconds, the book had grown exponentially, reaching a size that looked only to be a little larger than Tiwaz. Then it started to fly around, alternating between hovering over Tiwaz and Fenrir, before finally settling over the Beowolfmon.

“I…don’t think you should be standing there, Fenrir,” Tiwaz said, his body tense.

Before Fenrir could reply, the book suddenly opened, showing Fenrir the pages it held and the undecipherable lettering that it contained. Before he could try to even understand, however, the book suddenly shot down and closed around him, slamming loudly as the Beowolfmon’s body disappeared within the book’s pages.

“Fenrir!” Tiwaz yelled wielding his weapon. “By Buri! Who would’ve thought we’d run into a man-eating manuscript here of all places!?”

He then tensed up when the book faced him ominously. “Oh, no, you’re not! There is absolute no way that I’m dying because some old tome decided to turn me into dinner! So spit the mutt back out before I cut you into tiny pieces and burn you into ashes!” he commanded, charging towards the tome. He then tried to brake, his steps skidding, as the book once more opened its covers towards him. He was too slow to stop, however, and he soon followed Fenrir’s fate of being eaten by the large book as it slammed around him as well.

The book then started to float back up, shrinking back to its normal size as it did so. It started to hover erratically, zooming around the house, before it finally reached the top of the chimney where it flew down, leaving no trace of the two Digimon that it had trapped within its confines.


(next post)
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An Agumon pulled himself up from the grassy ground he laid on. He squinted and pulled his hand to put it over his eyes, shielding them from the bright rays of the sun that shone down on the green hill that he was on.

“Drazion? Is that you?” the young dinosaur Digimon called out as he spotted the figure of a draconic creature running towards him.

“Mhm. Who else would run here calling your name?” the Dracomon named Drazion replied, plopping down on ground beside the orange dinosaur.

“You never know. Maybe somebody was looking for us and needed our help or something.,” Tiwaz replied with a smile on his face.

“Maybe sometime in the future. Right now, we’re kinda still, you know, kids,” Drazion told him with a sheepish expression.

“So? I saved you when you were getting bullied, and I was still a kid back then too,” Tiwaz retorted with a smile. Drazion returned it with his own smile, remembering the day that he had met the headstrong but goodhearted Agumon.

“And look at us now! We’re the best of buds!” Tiwaz declared, lying back down with his arms above his head. He let out a sigh of content and then closed his eyes. “And in just a few more years, we’re going to get a whole lot stronger and join the military. Then we’ll really start to do the world a lot more good.”

“Yeah,” the Dracomon replied, looking over at the view that the grassy hill allowed him of the small village that he and his friend lived in. After a few moments of silence, however, he turned over to look at his friend.

“Tiwaz…?” he tried. He then got an exasperated look on his face. “Oh, come on! Don’t go day dreaming on me again!” Drazion said, going to stand over the Agumon. “Tiwaz!” he said, straining the last syllable.

“Tiwaz, wake up already before the guy starts undressing you.”

Tiwaz’s eyes shot open. “Before who what!?” he asked out loud. The EmperorGreymon blinked. That wasn’t Drazion’s voice. He turned his head to where the voice came from, seeing Fenrir leaning against a wooden wall.

“Fenrir?” he called out, blinking. He had been dreaming. He frowned through the veil of sleep that had temporarily covered him. “What happened. The last thing I remember is…something I’d rather not remember at all.”

“Well, that’s fine and dandy, but if you could please take off your heavier-than-a-knocked-out-Minotarumon-on-steroids armor so I can finally study your body in extra better detail, I’d extremely be in your debt,” a voice beside his head suddenly spoke. “And plus points if you have any runes under there!”

Tiwaz quickly jerked his head to face the source of the voice. And then he found himself facing a pair of brightly glowing yellow eyes surrounded by complete darkness and staring at him as if he were a frog on a dissecting table.

“Good morning!” the pair of eyes said.

Tiwaz blinked. And then he did the most sensible thing that came to his head. He shouted at the top of his lungs.

The EmperorGreymon quickly rolled his body from the eyes in an attempt to get away as fast as possible. It was only then that he realized that over his chest was a sheet of cloth, which his arms and legs got trapped in. His next realization was that he was on a bed. A really small bed. A really small bed that he was now rolling off of. And still shouting, he landed on the wooden floor with a loud thud, finding himself cocooned in the sheet of cloth that he rolled himself in.

Watching him, Fenrir shook his head and pressed a hand against his forehead.

“Hm. You don’t look like the singing and dancing type, but if you like it that much, then go right ahead,” the owner of the yellow eyes said from out of Tiwaz’s vision. “Though it would be a much more logical idea if you performed it standing on your feet, don’t you think? Or is this a new type of melodious vocalization that has somehow slinked from under my nose?”

Tiwaz growled, struggling to get himself out. “Can I get some help here!?” he asked Fenrir.

The Beowolfmon sighed but walked over to the EmperorGreymon and started helping him out of the mess that he had gotten himself in. “Better?” Fenrir asked, standing back up.

“Just peachy,” Tiwaz replied, pulling himself up.

“Oh, you have peaches on you?” the voice once again sounded, and this time, Tiwaz prepared himself and looked at the source. He blinked when he saw the cloaked owner of the voice: a Wisemon.

“I do love peaches! Succulent and deliciously sweet, I can practically taste them in my mouth right now,” the Wisemon told Tiwaz with obvious glee. “I’d happily let you keep your armor if you’ll give me some,” the cloaked Digimon said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

The EmperorGreymon grimaced. “No, I don’t have any peaches,” he said, folding his arms. “And that doesn’t mean I’m going to strip my armor off for you, so don’t even think about it, you damned pervert.”

“Who are you calling a pervert?” the Wisemon asked, obviously affronted as he too folded his arms. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you to respect your elders?”

“Elder? Ha!” Tiwaz exclaimed, a bemused expression on his face. “I’m old enough to have great great grandchildren if I had started,” he told the Wisemon in all seriousness, gaining Fenrir’s attention, although the Beowolfmon stayed silent. The hermit, however, wasn’t fazed in the least.

“Is that all?” the Wisemon asked, his eyes narrowed. He then pointed at himself with his thumb. “I’m so long-lived that I’ve forgotten my own moniker!”

Tiwaz’s jaw dropped while the Wisemon had the gall to look smug as he folded his arms. The EmperorGreymon turned to Fenrir, his eyes questioning. Without a word, Fenrir gave him a nod, his own eyes telling Tiwaz just how serious he was, and the dragon man turned back to the Wisemon.

“Right…then,” he said, still recovering from shock. “Uh, hey, Fen, we should get going, right? We still got to find that hermit of yours, right?”

“That’s him,” Fenrir deadpanned, causing Tiwaz to turn to him with an astounded expression.

“You…you’re joking,” Tiwaz started, turning from Fenrir, to the Wisemon, and then back to Fenrir, whose expression was completely serious. “This crazy old geezer is the person you’ve been looking to ask something to!?” he asked in shock. “Please tell me that you only came here to ask how he got this insane!”

“You break into song right after waking up, and you call me crazy and insane?” the Wisemon retorted, giving the dragon man the evil eye.

“I was not singing!” Tiwaz rectified, narrowing his eyes at the other Digimon.

“Right, you weren’t singing,” the Wisemon then said. “You were shrieking so horribly that your deadful voice probably brought about an alp of ice to break into tiny pieces! It’s a good thing this dwelling lost the windows years ago, or they’d probably on the floor and in fragments by now!”

Tiwaz roared, bringing his hands to the top of his head in ire as he glared heatedly at the Wisemon. “I. Was. Not. Singing! And this coming from a guy that tried to strip me while I was unconscious! You’re not only crazy, you’re a perverted degenerate that needs to be brought to justice!”

“Oh please, you are as attractive to me as an argosy of abhorrent moribund fink!”

Tiwaz’s eye twitched. He might not have understood half of what he said, but he knew well enough that it was an insult. An imaginative one, but an insult nonetheless.

“The only rationale your body interests me is due to your capacity to generate and manipulate conflagration – fire, for the ignoramus in the room – in rather pertinent ability far beyond the normal KingGreymon,” the Wisemon explained.

Tiwaz’s eye twitched. “It’s EmperorGreymon. And that’s all you want to know?” Tiwaz asked, seriously wanting to hit the Wisemon. “Well, here’s your answer: I’m a god of fire. Happy now?” Tiwaz said, turning to Fenrir, who was looking at him wide eyes. “We better leave right now before I wring this nuisance’s neck,” Tiwaz told the Beowolfmon.

“A…god?” the Wisemon repeated, strangely unaffected by what Tiwaz had called him. When the dragon man turned back to the cloaked Digimon, he was surprised – and slightly unsettled – by the mystified glow in his eyes. “You’re a god! Goodness gracious, I have a celestial being in my house!” the Wisemon said, suddenly grabbing Tiwaz’s wrist and then pulling him over to a stool, which he was forced to sit down on.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Tiwaz growled as the Wisemon dashed off towards a nearby wooden desk and came back with a notebook and a pen in his hand.

Ignoring the EmperorGreymon’s question, the Wisemon sat on a chair opposite Tiwaz’s and looked back at him with an excited gaze. “Is it true that as a god, you’re born from the elements of nature rather from two biological parents?” he asked with anticipation.

“What- why would I-“

“Or perhaps you were given your godly powers from someone of higher authority? Perhaps someone like Odin?”

“You don’t know what you’re ta-“

“Can you change genders at will?”

“What the he-“

“Do you choose the realm of godliness that you reign over or is it priorly decided before godhood?”

Tiwaz’s eye began to twitch as the Wisemon kept asking more and more words, not letting him say a single thing in between. And then he brought his hands to where his ears were.

SHUT UP!” Tiwaz ordered at the top of his voice, effectively silencing the Wisemon in mid-sentence. “You’re giving me a headache,” Tiwaz added before he lowered back his arms.

“Touchy, touchy. The only thing I did was inquire about the specifics and intricacies of a god,” the demon man Digimon said. “Now, if we can please continue-“

“No way,” Tiwaz interrupted, standing and walking over to Fenrir at a quick pace. “Come on, Fenrir, we’re leaving right now.”

“What? No! You still haven’t answered my questions!” the Wisemon proclaimed. “You have to! For the sake of science!”

“Like I care,” Tiwaz said over his shoulder before turning back to the Beowolfmon. “Let’s go!” he said, grabbing Fen’s arm to bring him over to the door.

“No,” Fenrir replied, roughly pulling his arm from out of Tiwaz’s grip. “I’m staying.”

“You’re what!?” Tiwaz asked in amazement. “What would make anyone decide to do that!? Tiwaz inquired, pointing a finger at the Wisemon. “Or maybe you haven’t asked your question yet? Well do it already!”

“I’ve already asked him,” Fenrir replied, his face as emotionless as his voice was monotone.

“And you’re still planning on hanging out with this guy? Are you mad!?”

“I still need his services,” Fenrir told Tiwaz, daring the dragon man to believe what he just accused him of. “And he needs mine,” Fenrir finished.

“What in blazes for!?”

“The Beofoxmon-“

Wolf,” Tiwaz corrected, his patience once again dwindling.

“- volunteered to help me with an expedition that is of the utmost importance,” the Wisemon continued, walking over with the calmest expression that Tiwaz had seen yet. He didn’t trust it one bit and was ready to bolt if the Wisemon was going to grab him again. “And I’m going to need all the help I can acquire. I had wished to ask you of the same thing, actually” he said, closing his eyes.

Skeptically, Tiwaz folded his arms. On one hand, he didn’t want anything to do with the Wisemon. On the other, while he had his doubts, he couldn’t ignore that this quest of his might be extremely crucial, especially since the serious Fenrir was actually going to help the Wisemon voluntarily. And then there was the chance that the strange Digimon was somehow able to control Fenrir in some way and making him do things he didn’t want to do, and if so, he needed to save the Beowolfmon.

And then he pressed a palm against his forehead. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s say I do go with you, what does this expedition of yours entail?”

“Wonderful!” the Wisemon said, rushing over to his desk again.

“This does not mean I’m actually agreeing with this!” Tiwaz told him, and he felt irked that the Wisemon seemed to be ignoring him. He turned to Fenrir. “I hope this isn’t some meaningless goose chase,” he told the Beowolfmon.

“You can’t imagine,” Fenrir told him, causing Tiwaz’ eyebrow to rise. The wolf man didn’t offer him any other information, however.

Instead, Fenrir’s eyes widened, and he quickly moved out of the way. Against his better judgment, Tiwaz turned back to where the Wisemon had run into…only for something looked to be a marble ball slam into his chest rather painfully. He gave an oof as his back met with the wall, and he looked to where the object had come from. He was met with the sight that was only less odder than being eaten by a man-sized book.

The Wisemon had brought out the two spheres that his species were known to have, and he had his own arms inside them. He momentarily wondered how the cloaked Digimon was able to do that before his eyes widened once more as the Wisemon took his arm out of the orange sphere, his hand holding a rather sharp looking dagger, and then threw it over his shoulder with a shake of his head. Tiwaz quickly ducked, the blade embedding itself on the wall he had his back against.

“Are you crazy!? What am I asking? Of course you’re crazy!” he declared standing up, only for his jaw to drop when the Wisemon, with obvious effort, pulled out a mini-fridge from the red sphere. The piece of machinery then flew out of the Wisemon’s hand as soon as it exited the orb…heading right towards the dragon man.

With a yell, Tiwaz jumped out of the way, the machine landing loudly on the wooden floor where it created a hole that it embedded itself in. Breathing heavily and lying flat against the ground, Tiwaz looked at the object that almost crushed him, seeing it open up to show that it was empty.

“Need a hand?” Fenrir’s voice said as a hand appeared in front of Tiwaz’s face.

“N-no. I can get up by myself, thank you very much,” Tiwaz grumbled as he stood up, patting his armor to dust away the dirt that had gotten on him when he fell on the ground for the second time.

“Ah ha! I found it!” the Wisemon’s voice suddenly said with enthusiasm. He turned to them, his eyes twinkling, a brown bag completely covered in white, glowing symbols in his hand. “Come here, you two; I have something to show you!” he said, walking over to his desk. Tiwaz frowned apprehensively, but followed Fenrir when the Beowolfmon walked over.

“Are these it?” Fenrir asked, stopping beside the Wisemon.

“They are inside the bag as you think,” the Wisemon said, placing the object on the table carefully. Both Tiwaz and Fenrir could see the outlines of different objects on the surface of the bag.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘they’, old man?” Tiwaz asked, his interest piqued.

“These are…the Spirits of the Ten Elements,” the Wisemon answered, his tone as if he were talking about something reverent. He let go of the opening of the bag, letting it fall down. It fell precisely in a way that the rims fell around the objects inside.

And suddenly, the room was covered in bright red, yellow and blue light.
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God of Monsters
A nice new chapter. I'm definitely getting a better sense of who these two characters are and what they're like. Their characterizations are quite in-line with how they've been portrayed in the RPGs.

What I'm not too fond of, however, is Tiwaz himself. I think you might be going a little overboard with the "hotheaded, arrogant Greymon" stereotype. He seems very much a caricature of himself, and also seems (at least to me) entirely unlikeable. I could see the Wisemon hanging out with him because he's kinda crazy, but Fenrir is just a bit too rational and level-headed to stay around someone who he's so infuriated with and hardly even knows. If Fenrir himself were a little more eccentric in some regard, or had a prior relationship with Tiwaz that would explain why he was so forgiving of Tiwaz's sheer un-likeability it might be a little bit more understandable. But as of now, I can't imagine for the life of me why he's still hanging around him.
A nice new chapter. I'm definitely getting a better sense of who these two characters are and what they're like. Their characterizations are quite in-line with how they've been portrayed in the RPGs.
I’m both pleased and a bit disappointed with myself at that. While they’re roughly the same in terms of persona, there are some differences I’d like to highlight. There’s a huge span between this and the rpg, and people can change during that time. Fenrir, especially, although since I don’t give him a lot of limelight in the rpg, although his base personality should be similar with how I have him now.

What I'm not too fond of, however, is Tiwaz himself. I think you might be going a little overboard with the "hotheaded, arrogant Greymon" stereotype. He seems very much a caricature of himself, and also seems (at least to me) entirely unlikeable
Ah, right. Griff tells me that I may be overdoing the arrogant part and need to tone it down. I haven’t got his personality right to a T yet, so to speak. Though as far as I can tell, Tiwaz really is hotheaded, at least when he’s not in battle (or so I’m told). And he’ll eventually break out of the stereotype, I hope. He has good points to him; they’re just not as obvious when he is around someone that’s his complete opposite (ie Fenrir). He'll come off as someone more likable when I get some of the other characters in.

And in his defense, the Wisemon could probably break just about anyone’s restraint.

I could see the Wisemon hanging out with him because he's kinda crazy,
You don’t know how happy I am that he came off that way! xD

but Fenrir is just a bit too rational and level-headed to stay around someone who he's so infuriated with and hardly even knows. If Fenrir himself were a little more eccentric in some regard, or had a prior relationship with Tiwaz that would explain why he was so forgiving of Tiwaz's sheer un-likeability it might be a little bit more understandable. But as of now, I can't imagine for the life of me why he's still hanging around him.
Well, Fenrir has his reasons. The first time he allowed Tiwaz to go with him was because of Tiwaz’s persistence and since he didn’t know the dragon that well. And then the second time, it’d be kind of…ungrateful to send the one that saved your life away. By the end of this act, Fenrir decided to go with the Wisemon, not necessarily with Tiwaz. Why he decided to will be revealed later in the story, but he is determined on helping the Wisemon with his task. That doesn't mean that he and Tiwaz are going to be on best terms or even friends. For now. He and Tiwaz are going to butt heads a lot as the story progresses.

And besides, Fenrir has his own storied past with infuriating people.


No. 1 Grovyle Fan
“I’ve just about had it with you! You’re barrier can’t last forever! Not when it has to deal with a nonstop assault of attacks!” Deitrich said, slamming the end of his scythe into the ground. “Okay, boys! Get ready to give it all you’ve got! We’re gonna break down this house if it’s the last thing we ever do!”
It should be "Your" and "Dietrich".

That was a fun chapter. Both of the fight scenes were written smoothly. I'm still having a bit of trouble picturing the scenary though, but I'm not sure if that's just my fault.

As for Tiwaz, I agree on the arrogance thing, as I've said. As for his hotheadedness... that depends on which definition of the word it is. Tiwaz's impulsiveness seems fine, but he seems a bit too touchy at times. Apart from that, he seems fine.

Fenrir does seem colder to me here than he does in UC/DA. And I wonder who Remus is...

And the Wisemon is as every bit as crazy as you told me he was. =P He seems like he should be in Back to the Future.

All in all, I really enjoyed reading it. The description was good and so was the characterization. The ending was a bit abrupt, it seemed, but there was a cliffhanger. I'm looking forward to the next one.
It should be "Your" and "Dietrich".
I hate it when those are caught in the last minute. >.< Fixed.

I'm still having a bit of trouble picturing the scenary though, but I'm not sure if that's just my fault.
And here I thought my forte in writing was my describing ability. I'll need to work on that then.

As for Tiwaz, I agree on the arrogance thing, as I've said. As for his hotheadedness... that depends on which definition of the word it is. Tiwaz's impulsiveness seems fine, but he seems a bit too touchy at times. Apart from that, he seems fine.
Yes, yes, I'll try to get him less barky and easily angered. Like I said, he will be more so when I introduce the other characters.

Fenrir does seem colder to me here than he does in UC/DA. And I wonder who Remus is...
In due time. -w-

And the Wisemon is as every bit as crazy as you told me he was. =P He seems like he should be in Back to the Future.
I have no idea what Back to the Future has anything to do with this. But if that means he's exceptionally crazy, then sure, okay. xD You have to know that there is a method to the Wisemon's madness. Maybe. Hopefully.

All in all, I really enjoyed reading it. The description was good and so was the characterization. The ending was a bit abrupt, it seemed, but there was a cliffhanger. I'm looking forward to the next one.
You're confusing me; am I good at describing or not? >.<

And I like cliffhangers. Hate them when they're done to me, but it keeps interest and keeps you guessing. Most of time.
Act. 3: Of Legends and Crazy Old Geezers

Also Known As

“Fascinating? You call me almost getting burned to death fascinating?!”

Bakhu Mountain was an imposing sight during the night. The snow capped mountains turned dark and black as the sunlight disappeared and the clouds covered the sky. It stood tall and wide like a formidable colossus, intimidating would be travelers that dared to traverse the treacherous and complex pathways after sunset. It should be said that the Bakhu Mountain contained on its surface many caverns and caves, entrances to the intricate pathways of its internal structure. And these caverns were home to the wild Digimon that forwent the luxuries of cities but gained exceptional abilities that no normal city Digimon would be able to know.

However, right at that moment, one cave was soon to become as uninhabited as it had been before its settlers decided to stay there one fateful night, many years ago.

“We need to get out of here, now!”

Dietrich the MetalPhantomon, a poorly wrapped and dirty bandage around his forehead and circling the bony shape of his face, opened an almost broken wooden door that led to the room of one of his remaining henchmen. “Rasher! This is no time for lollygagging!” he yelled, slamming his fist into the door and causing it fall down from its rusty hinges.

A Meramon quickly pulled himself up from the cot he was lying on, jumping down. “Sorry boss,” he replied under the gaze of his superior. “My body’s still hurtin’ from the last fight.”

“You won’t have a body to feel hurt with if you don’t get your flaming ass moving!” Dietrich told him fervently. “So do as I say and get packing!”

Stuttering his reply, the flame Digimon quickly did so, grabbing a nearby sack to put his essentials inside.

The steel skeleton reaper then exited the room and pointed at the other one of his remaining henchmen he had seen from the corner of his eye, a former WaruMonzaemon that was currently an Ogremon, who carried a large, worn-out backpack.

“Damsyn! I told you to pack only the essentials!” the MetalPhanotmon said, his voice harsh, but even that couldn’t hide the undertone of fear in his voice. “We need to be fast!”

“But boss, I only brought Griv’s and Dal-“

“They’re dead, Damsyn!” Dietrich told him, his eyes narrowed, and the Ogremon named Damsyn cowered. “And you will be, too, if you slow yourself down carrying deadweight! Their stuff isn’t as important as your life, are they!?” he asked heatedly, grabbing the Ogremon by the backpack strap and pulling the club-wielding Digimon close to his face. He then pushed him away, saying with a commanding tone, “Leave the stuff that ain’t for surviving, and hurry up before I decide to leave you behind!”

“Y-yes, sir! I mean boss!” Damsyn replied, hurrying over to the table and quickly emptying out the bag on his person.

“Morons can’t do anything right without me telling them what to do,” Dietrich said to himself as he surveyed the hideout that he and his gang of bandits had called base for years, the place that he and Heinrich had decided to call home the day the brothers stumbled upon it.

The cavern itself had a wide space and a tall ceiling. The walls were craggy and full of moss that had continued to multiply as the days had passed. Amateurish wooden doors, old and worn out after years of being frequently slammed, closed the pathways that led to the rooms that his bandits slept in. The floor was constantly dirty and had potholes every few feet that his legged fellows always tripped on everyday. The ceiling had three old oil lanterns hanging from oddly shaped stalactites, along with countless numbers of cobwebs. One large and wooden rectangular table where he and his buddies lounged, converse and ate on was at the center. It still had the large hole that the MetalPhantomon made during the time he had gotten so angry when his bandits wouldn’t stop arguing amongst themselves. The only real furniture around it had were three wooden stools, the others having to make do with large rocks.

It certainly wasn’t the kind of lavish living that any kind of royalty would have lived in, but in this cavern, he had been king. And it angered him to no end that he was being forced to run away from his own home, his ‘kingdom’, because of circumstances that he could no longer control.

“I’m going to miss this place,” Heinrich’s voice said from behind him.

“Yeah, well, I won’t. It’s a pigsty, and we’re going to find a place that’s a hundred time’s better than this old dump,” Dietrich replied, hiding the very same sentiment that his younger brother said if only to see if saying it would make it any true. He turned to his brother, most of his face covered by the shadow of his cloak. “You done?” he asked.

Heinrich nodded silently. “Everything’s packed. See?” he said, raising a small bag in front of his brother. The Phantomon then put his hand in his back, about to get something from inside. “I even found the old-“

“Good. Whatever,,” Deitrich replied, turning back to see how his other henchmen were doing. “Damsym! Rasher! Get over here now!”

“But, Dietrich, don’t you want to-“

“Not now, Heinrich! Damsyn! Rasher! Are you listening to me!?” Dietrich continued yelling, looking for the Ogremon and Meramon.

Heinrich sighed and lowered his arms. He looked down at the ground, as he always did when his older brother ignored him. It was usually when he was trying to get the others to stop arguing, and it was a peculiar feeling to be ignored when it was so quiet.

And that was the Phantomon realized. It was just too quiet, especially when the members of their group were always loud and rowdy, even when there were only two left.

“Hey, big brother, don’t you think it’s too qui-!”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me-“ Dietrich started, turning to Heinrich in a huff, only for him to stop in shock at the sight of his brother suddenly in the restricting hold of a white-caped, man that was covered in golden bandages and wore a headdress with a snake on it. A Pharoahmon. His body was far larger than that of the MetalPhantomon and the Phantomon, and proving that fact was that one of his own hands was encircled tightly around the latter Digimon, trapping the ghost in his golden grip.

“Heinrich!” The MetalPhantomon turned completely, both hands on his scythe as he glared daggers at the Egyptian Digimon. “Let my brother go, you bastard, before I turn you shredded toilet paper!” he ordered, raising his dangerous weapon menacingly in the air.

“Believe me when I say that that would not be a good idea,” the large, golden Digimon said, tightening his grip just enough so that Heinrich would gasp out in pain.

“G-gah! B-brother, h-help!” Heinrich rasped, his face scrunched up in pain under his cloak.

The MetalPhantomon growled in frustration. “How did you get inside without making any noise, bastard?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes scanning for a point of attack.

“I have abilities that you’re not aware of, Dietrich. It would be best that you don’t try your luck against them,” the Pharoahmon told him.

Deitrich cursed heaven and hell, realizing that he couldn’t do anything at the risk of his brother’s life before another idea struck him. “Heinrich! Use your cloak!” he ordered, charging his scythe the moment he had an opening.

Heintich gave his brother a despairing look. “I-I can’t!”

The glow that coated the bandit leader’s scythe disappeared as his face contorted into disbelief. “What do you mean you can’t!?” he yelled, angered not only by a spoiled plan but also at his inability to help his own brother.

“Your brother here is quite inexperienced with his own magic. It would have in both your best interest to have trained him in its use early, which you seem to have neglected as your duty as the older sibling,” Heinrich’s captor told Dietrich, ignoring the Phantomon’s futile struggle.

“Stop it with your superior act, bastard! You can’t tell me what to do!” Deitrich said scathingly.

“Oh, can’t I?” he replied, experimentally squeezing harder, enough for Heinrich to begin yelling, as Dietrich’s eyes widened in response. “My ‘superior act’, as you call it, is no act. I am in control in this situation, as you can obviously see.”

“We’ll see about that. Damsyn! Rasher! Where are you idiots!?” Dietrich yelled over his shoulder, though he didn’t look away from the intruder in his kingdom.

“I am sorry to disappoint you by saying that your henchmen no longer wander the realms of the living,” was the Pharoahmon’s monotone reply.

Dietrich’s jaw dropped. “Damsyn…Rasher…b-both of them?” he muttered as his fists gripped tightly the weapon in his hands. “You killed them!? Are you telling me that I lost all of my henchmen – my comrades in all of one day!?” he shouted in rage, glaring at his brother’s captor.

“Not quite all of them just yet,” the golden man replied once more. “There’s still the question of the one in my grasp, though your words will soon be true enough. You knew the consequences of your failure.”

Heinrich let out a cry once more, the hand around him constricting harder and harder, making him feel like he was being crushed by walls that were closing him on him. The agony running through was so strong that tears began to well up in his eyes. The worst thing was that he was beginning to have a difficult time breathing, his lungs feeling like they had no room to expand in, which was probably true. “I…d…on’t…w-want to…die…!” he whispered with a strained voice as the tears began to fall.

“No! Heinrich!” Deitrich yelled, feeling his own helplessness in the situation. If he tried to attack, then he was more than positive that his brother would get hit. He opened his mouth once more.

“Let him go!”

Dietrich blinked in surprise. His voice had somehow become deeper and stronger. And then a figure appeared behind the Pharoahmon, its body too heavily shadowed to be clearly identified. The MetalPhantomon then realized that his voice had been overshadowed by the figure’s own. That fact caused anger to bubble inside him; his own voice wasn’t even loud enough when he wanted to save his brother’s life.

The Pharoahmon turned to look over his shoulder. He didn’t consider Dietrich a big enough a threat to actually give him a lot of notice. “Gernot. Sir, what are you doing here?” the Pharoahmon asked, his voice just as monotone as it was before.

The figure so-named Gernot gave the Pharoahmon a look before turning to the writhing Phantomon in the large Egyptian Digimon’s hand. “I came here before you killed someone else,” he replied with that same baritone voice.

“Sir, you know that I only do this at the behest of-“

“My brother, I know,” the figure replied with a shake of his head. “But now I’m ordering you to let him go. You’ve done enough here.”

“I simply cannot comply, sir,” the Pharoahmon said. “These bandits still need to be taught a lesson.”

“I’ll be the teacher here, buddy!” Dietrich yelled, angered that he was being ignored. He dashed towards the Pharoahmon whose attention was being distracted by the newcomer, or so the MetalPhantomon thought.

The next thing he knew, he was being constricted by the same strong hold that Heinrich was being held in. If he wasn’t so surprised, he would have been asking just how fast this supposedly large and cumbersome-looking Digimon was.

“Did I not tell you not to press your luck?” the Pharoahmon asked, gazing down at the MetalPhantomon with his deep, red eyes.

“Faize! I command you to let them go!” the figure ordered harshly.

“I cannot do that, sir. This one needs to be severely punished,” the large man Digimon replied, squeezing the younger Phantomon in his hand harder.

“H-Heinrich!” Dietrich yelled, feeling more useless than he had ever felt in his life.

“Please, Faize. If you won’t let them go, then I have another proposition,” Gernot said from behind the Pharoahmon.

Faize stopped his crushing, giving Heinrich the ability to breathe once more. “Sir, we need to return to your lessons as soon as we return. It is hardly a proposition when you have your weapon pointed at my back, is it not?” the Pharaohmon asked, although he spared the figure behind him no glance.

“Perhaps not, but I know you. You won’t stop unless you’re given a good reason.”

“I am not one to act so half-heartedly, sir.”

“And sometimes that’s a good thing…so, are you willing to listen to what I have in mind?” Gernot asked, lowering his weapon.

“Very well, young master,” Faize relented, although he did not let go of either ghostly Digimon in his grasp. “I will listen.”

Gernot nodded. “Brother won’t be pleased that you failed, Dietrich, but I’ve pleaded your case with him. We’re going to give you one last chance to retrieve the artifacts from the hermit.”

The MetalPhantomon blanched. He didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, but if it meant that he and his brother were going to be released, he wasn’t going to complain. “Really? Great, so can you let us go now?” he complained, futilely trying to get out of the grip.

“I’m afraid that we cannot do that,” Gernot replied with a slightly sorrowful tone. “We’re going to need reassurance that you will not run away as you seemed to have attempted.”

The MetalPhantomon suddenly felt a chill down his bony spine. He couldn’t be saying…they wouldn’t.

“We’re going to keep Heinrich hostage,” Gernot finished.

“Very good, young master. Perhaps my teachings have not gone to waste on you after all,” Faize said, looking down at Dietrich. “Sir Gernot has spoken. Do not waste his mercy on you and your brother, bandit,” he told the MetalPhantomon before flinging the scythe-wielding Digimon at the table at the center of the cavern.

Wincing, Dietrich crashed in a heap, his body breaking the table. He then opened his eyes. “Heinrich!” he yelled, quickly getting up.

His jaw dropped. Just moments ago, the Pharoahmon, the figure and his brother were in front of him, and now, they disappeared, leaving only the prints on the ground to evidence their being there at all. “No…no, no, no!” Deitrich repeated, rushing out of the cavern and into the dark night.

He looked around, desperate to see some flowing cloth, that glint of gold that Heinrich’s scythe would have given off under the moonlight, footprints that might lead him to where his brother might be. All for naught.



Dazzling light. That was all Fenrir saw when the Wisemon let go of the bag and showed them what it contained. It was so blindingly bright that he was forced to cover his eyes with a hand, unable to look at it. And then, he started to glow faintly, the glimmer around his body imperceptible under the competition it had. And then Fenrir uncovered his eyes, the shine no longer bothering him as it still seemed to do to Tiwaz and the Wisemon.

“I forgot to inform you that these objects are extremely effulgent - radiant!” the Wisemon said, pulling the hood over his face to shield against the brightness.

“Thanks for the warning,” Tiwaz replied sarcastically as he used both arms to block the light, although he still had to shut his eyes tightly. Behind his eyelids, he was literally still seeing red. “Any plans that involve telling us how long this is going to last?”

“Well, you see, it won’t,” the Wisemon said, reaching for something on the table – far from the objects he showed them – as he continued to keep his hood over his head. “They’ will continue with their incandescent scintillation as long as they’re in proximity. Now where did I situate that weave?” he asked, blindly sweeping his hand, making sure to stay away from the objects that radiated so much power he could feel it.

Fenrir quickly looked around, seeing that he was the only one that could actually use his eyes, and spotted the cloth in the exact opposite direction that the Wisemon was searching for it at.

“I have it,” he told the Wisemon as he took the fabric and glanced at said Digimon.

“Oh, you do? Wonderful!” the cloaked Digimon astopped his searching and turned to where Fenrir’s voice was. “If you would please use the cloth to segregate each artifact in a manner where they’re all equidistant from each other. Two on either ends of the table will do quite nicely,” he instructed the Beowolfmon, apparently not fazed in the least that Fenrir found the cloth so quickly. “Oh, and do it gently!”

“Got it,” Fenrir replied, turning to the relics in front of him. He took his moment to look at the objects through the light.

There were three, each one exuding a different and contrasting color from the other. They all looked only to be the size of his palm, though their heights varied slightly. And though the hermit called them artifacts, they didn’t look the least bit antiquated, although the design on them was archaic. And there was definitely great power emanating from them; Fenrir could feel the raw energy from where he stood, and it made his skin tingle from under his armor.

The one that got his immediate attention was the one that shone scarlet red. It held the shape of a dragon rising from flames that came from a golden platform. The fire carving was intricate, and the light it exuded fluctuated, giving the impression that it was real flame. From the base of flames, the front and upper portion of a drake could be easily made out. Feathered wings that bore resemblance to a falcon’s rose from the creature’s back, opened as if it were about to take flight. Muscular front arms stepped through the fire carving, its foreclaws gripping at the edge of the base. They were connected to a wide chest that narrowed into a neck that featured a mane not unlike the mane of a horse. It ended with a reptilian head that contained three horns: two on either sides of its head and one on the tip of its snout. Its jaws were wide open in a roar, showing off carefully made teeth. Along with the bright red coloration that it bore were veins of gold that pulsed every few moments, like a heartbeat.

Another one shone a contrasting azure blue. Like the red one, it had a platform, but this one was a myriad of colors that reminded Fenrir of the sea with a mosaic design about it. If Fenrir didn’t know any better, he might have thought it was made of painted glass. The base of the statue on the platform was in the form of carefully carved waves spreading from the center, crashing and splashing against each other to create a whirlpool of water. The light from the waves, although ever bright, seemed to spin around, as if mimicking the motions of ocean currents. At the eye of the aquatic vortex arose a sapphire woman with long hair. Only the upper portion of her body was visible, with her arms covered in front of her to hide the proof of her womanhood. Her head faced away, intricately showing a beautiful face with a serene expression on her face, with her hair flowing in the opposite direction, shining the same way as the waves around her did. Behind her, jutting from the waves, was a spear that ended with three-tines: a trident. Like the dragon, the woman, too, had vein-like lines, although these ones seemed to slowly shift into the different colors of the ocean.

Fenrir then turned to the last of the three. This one shone brilliant yellow; there was no other way for the Beowolfmon to describe the extreme hue it had taken upon itself. Every now and then, it would flash bright enough for Fenrir to have to wince through it; it reminded him of flashing lightning. The base itself, like the dragon’s, was gold with zigzagging etchings on it. The base looked to be in the shape of large clouds, and though the light it shone was bright, its hues were mottled with small swaths of dark grey that seemed to move on their own accord. The clouds seem to whirl towards the center, creating a tower of clouds that ended with a spiny sphere that shone the brightest and was free from the dark color the clouds did. The most eye-catching feature, however, was the peculiar looking creature that seemed to be bursting through the pillar of clouds. It was vaguely humanoid in shape, although that’s where the similarities ended. Its two arms seem to end with three claws, the center claws being so long that they seemed to be scythe-like. Its head bore no resemblance to any being Fenrir knew of, although upon close inspection, it bore a resemblance of a MegaKabuterimon. Fenrir then realized that under where it seemed to be bursting through were six gem-like indentations that seemed to look like eyes that were staring straight at him. Finally, it had crisscrossing golden lines on it, flashing simultaneously with the light it shone.

Deciding that he observed each one enough, Fenrir nodded to himself and carefully laid the cloth over the one closest to him, the artifact that resembled the woman, and carefully placed it near the edge of the table to his side. He then did so with the dragon relic and placed it on the opposite side, near Tiwaz. As he did so, he realized that the light did die down significantly, although they were still quite bright. At the very least, they won’t blind anyone anymore unless gazed upon too closely and for too long.

“I’ve done what you asked,” Fenrir told the hermit, offering the Wisemon his cloth.

Pulling the hood over his head with one of his hands, the Wisemon looked at Fenrir with a gratious expression. “Splendidly done!”

“Ugh. Great,” Tiwaz muttered from the Wisemon’s other side. He blinked away the splotches of blackness that came with the bright light, trying to see the objects that nearly blinded him. “Hey, geezer, didn’t you say something along the lines of ten elements? Don’t you mean three?” he suddenly asked, blinking a few more times to readjust his vision with the light. “I mean, you do seem to have a problem with names.”

“I’ll enlighten you right this instant and mention that I am perfectly capable of recalling names and titles that are of significance to me,” the Wisemon replied, turning to the objects on the table.

It didn’t escape the EmperorGreymon the underlying context that his name wasn’t at all important to the hermit. And then he realized another thing. “Are you telling me that your own name isn’t significant to you at all?”

“I’ve never had a use for it,” the Wisemon replied nonchalantly. “And let me rehash my antecedent testimony. These are three of the Spirits of the Ten Elements,” he told his two visitors with awe and wonder in his voice.

“As their name suggests, there are ten of them in total, one for each element which they have reign over. The items here are Spirits of Flame, Water, and Thunder respectively,” he informed them, pointing to the red, blue, and then yellow relics. “The rest of the elements govern the elements of Light, Darkness, Earth, Wood, Ice, Wind, and Steel. And each one of them stores vast amounts of power inside their confines,” he said, raising the Spirit of Thunder close to his face, making sure that no part of him touched it by using the cloth to hold it.

“These little things?” Tiwaz asked, grabbing the red one that was closest to him and giving it a look over. “They don’t even weigh much,” he said.

The Wisemon then turned to him, his eyes wide in shock and panic. “No! Put it down now!”

“Put it down? Wh-“

Before Tiwaz could even finish his question, the relic in his hand suddenly burst in a strong blaze that blasted the Wisemon into Fenrir, who was right behind him. Tiwaz wasn’t quite as lucky; his whole hand was suddenly consumed by flames that crawled quickly up his arm and towards his body. And he didn’t know what was stronger, the searing pain of the fire or the surprise to find that it actually hurt, and it hurt like hell. Tiwaz grit his teeth, refusing to yell in pain.

“Let it go, Tiwaz! Before you get incinerated!” Fenrir ordered, his voice loud for once as he pushed the Wisemon off of him.

“I can’t,” The EmperorGreymon hissed through his teeth. Trying to pry his fingers off of the relic was extremely difficult; it felt like his whole hand had been super-glued right on the artifact’s surface. The fact that the blaze had almost reached his neck wasn’t helping. And then he felt something grab his forearm, and he gave in to the urge to yell as the act intensified the pain he felt.

“Bear with it,” Fenrir told him, grabbing onto the relic with his other hand, the cloth the only thing separating his hand from touching it. The Beowolfmon then grunted, realizing that the flame that consumed Tiwaz’s arm was taking another course up his own limb. He needed to be quick. And then he held on tightly with both arms and started to pull the relic forcibly from Tiwaz’s hand.

“Gragh! Not so rough!” Tiwaz yelled, trying to open his palm.

“Sorry,” Fenrir said, although his voice didn’t display any remorse, and he pulled once more. “This is…harder than I thought,” he muttered, the relic not budging from the dragon man’s hand.

“You think!?” Tiwaz retorted, the flame reaching his neck and only increasing the pain he felt. “By Buri, this is hot!” he said, shaking his head to try and take the pain out of his mind.

“Almost…there,” Fenrir growled as the relic began to slip past Tiwaz’s fingers.

“Tug harder!” the EmperorGreymon told him.

“Just a little bit more,” the Beowolfmon said, huffing as the heat and searing pain started to get to him.

“Hurry…up!” Tiwaz grunted, shutting his eyes tight as his head was finally overcome by the fire.

Fenrir gave out a growl in reply, his grip getting stronger as the object slipped further and further until…

He let out a shout, finally wrenching the flaming artifact away from Tiwaz’s hand. Due to how hard he was pulling, his arm retracted far behind him, and the Spirit of Flame flew from his hand, landing on the floor behind him with a rattle.

Almost immediately, the fire that surrounded them dispersed, and both armored Digimon fell to the ground on their knees, heaving and panting as relief flooded through them. Sweat ran down their bodies like rivers, dripping down to the floorboards and collecting into tiny puddles.

“You can let me go now,” Tiwaz then muttered, noticing that Fenrir still had a grip on his forearm.

“Ah,” Fenrir replied, nodding and doing so as he sat back.

“And…thanks,” the EmperorGreymon said, not looking at the Beowolfmon.

Fenrir gave him a peculiar and slightly surprised look before shaking his head in refusal. “Let’s say…we’re even,” he told the dragon man, pushing himself up.

Tiwaz gave a grin in response, pulling himself to a stand by using the table near him as leverage. “Works for me,” he said with a slightly raspy voice.

“Well, that was fascinating,” the Wisemon’s voice suddenly cut in.

Tiwaz frowned. “Fascinating? You call me almost getting burned to death fascinating?” he asked, appalled and slightly angry. Fenrir couldn’t help but feel similarly, and he turned to the cloaked Digimon with a raised eyebrow.

The unnamed Digimon was bending down to pick up the cloth and the relic that had fallen, making sure it was unharmed, before he turned back to the two of them with an amused expression on his face. “You misunderstand. Actual event aside, your exchange of words sounded quite intimate, and dare I say, suggestive,” he told them with a laugh that sounded just like what one would imagine to hear from an old man.

Tiwaz frowned. “What the hell do you mean?” he asked, folding his arms and giving him a questioning look. Fenrir, however, understood right away and scowled, remembering the words he said. Tiwaz saw the look and turned to him. “Do you-“

“You don’t want to know,” Fenrir quickly told him, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, let me enlighten you,” the Wisemon interjected, his disposition quite cheery despite what had happened moments ago. “It had sounded like both of you were-“

STOP. RIGHT. NOW.” Fenrir glared at the Wisemon intensely.

Tiwaz frowned at them. “You two made it sound like we just…we…oh…oh, Buri no,” Tiwaz said, wide eyed and his face flushed with realization.

“Told you that you didn’t want to know,” Fenrir said, sighing as the Wisemon in front of them just laughed in amusement. Tiwaz shuddered.

“Okay, can we please steer away from this…very very wrong conversation and get back to why you aren’t the least worried about our injuries?” Tiwaz said, trying to get the nightmarish images out of his head.

“Very well, though I will have to inquire,” the Wisemon said, turning to him with a blank expression. “What injuries are you talking about?”

Tiwaz practically glared at him. “Oh, I don’t know, the ones from that thing that almost burnt me into crisp?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Tiwaz, wait,” Fenrir then interrupted as the Beowolfmon looked over his body. He wasn’t surprised, he was completely flabbergasted. There wasn’t a single burn on him, and his white armor was just as white – or as white as it was after trekking through a mountain – as before. In fact, the only evidence that he was near a fire was the sweat on his skin. “I’m…I’m unharmed,” he said softly and slightly in awe.

The EmperorGreymon’s eyes widened as he noticed that he was just as untouched as the Beowolfmon. “What the hell?”

“As you can observe, you’re both quite hale, albeit more sudoric and mustier than a pile of bedraggled detelicts,” the Wisemon told them. “Though the danger of holding onto one of these artifacts is certainly fatal, being able to escape from it means that any damage made is completely undone. I’m not certain of the reasons why they work in such a manner, but I do believe that it is an act of protection rather than one of aggression.”

“To further prove my theory, these Spirits, as I have grown to call them, each have a specific course of action once in coming into contact with any living sentient being, and not all of them are as deadly as that of the Spirit of Flame’s. Some are not even life-harming at all,” he said, giving the red artifact a look over before turning to the one opposite to it.

“For example, the Spirit of Water,” he said, reaching out to grab it with his hand.

Both Tiwaz and Fenrir were about to stop him, both having had enough after their first encounter. To their surprise, the Wisemon did not burst into flames, suddenly turn into mush or whatever they thought the Spirit of Water might do to any innocent holder. Instead, right before their eyes, the artifact itself suddenly liquefied within the second that the cloaked Digimon’s fingertips touched its surface. As a fluid, it was as clear as water, though it did not run as smoothly. It did not return to its original shape until the Wisemon brought his hand away from it.

Tiwaz rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” he muttered to himself.

“To believe or not to believe, the facts will not change,” the Wisemon spouted, somehow surprising both his guests to find something from his namesake come out of his mouth. “And the fact is that these three Spirits are overflowing with power, and there are seven more out there.”

“Can you imagine the possibilities? What we can achieve if we can harness the energy that these artifacts can generate is practically limitless!” the cloaked Digimon declared, spreading his arms out wide.

“Like what?” Tiwaz asked, not liking the direction the Wisemon was taking.

“Like being able to create a fire large enough to roast a thousand sirloins that can feed a single mon for years and years!” the Wisemon answered, putting his hands together, his eyes turning vacant as he pictured out his words. “And with the Spirit of Wood, I’d be able to have as many peaches as I can hold in my arms every single day of the year!”

“Er…right,” Tiwaz said, unsure how to reply to that. Fenrir just stared incredulously. “So, what kind of cloth is that anyway?”

“And how comes we can hold the…Spirits…without getting hurt when using it?” Fenrir asked as well, looking at the fabric in the Wisemon’s hand.

“Oh, it’s just an ordinary cloth I procured it from a long line of wire hanging along with other articles of clothing that someone seemed to have just left about. A shame that anyone would dispose of perfectly fine apparel simply because it got damp,” the Wisemon said, sighing in what looked to be disappointment.

Tiwaz kept his mouth shut at the implications of the cloaked Digimon’s words. He knew that nothing good would come out if opened it. Fenrir shook his head in disbelief; for someone that seemed to be intelligent, the Wisemon lacked social sense and normal, albeit trivial, knowledge.

“The secret of the cloth is not in its material but in the runes I enchanted it with,” the Wisemon continued, opening the cloth and showing them its surface. The brown cloth did indeed have symbols on it, one on each corner and one at the center, each one different but sharing the same light gold glow. “It’s actually quite similar to the enchantment on my humble abode wherein they contain and redirect the flow of energy. In this instance, it’s only a matter of returning the energy flow back with the use of a reflective surface such as the thin barrier on this fabric.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Tiwaz stated, reaching down to sit on a nearby stool.

“Of course. I’ve been researching everything about these artifacts and how to handle them for more than half my life, if not all of it,” the Wisemon told him as he began to put the Spirit of the Elements back into the rune-covered bag.

“If you know so much about it, then why do you need our help?” the dragon man asked. “You look like you got it under the control.”

At least when it comes to actually getting that done,’ he mentally noted.

The cloaked Digimon seemed to contemplate on him for a few seconds in silence, which was just as strange as the times the Wisemon opened his mouth to say something incredibly odd. “Tell me, are you aware of the old proemial gods?” he suddenly asked them.

“Not much, but yeah,” Tiwaz replied as Fenrir nodded.

“What if I told you that these Spirits are, in fact, remnants from that age? That these artifacts are containers that store mere fractions the sheer incredible power of one of those gods?” he continued asking.

“Then…this whole thing is a whole lot more complicated than I thought,” the EmperorGreymon answered, folding his arms as he frowned, taking in the information.

“You’re saying that whoever holds these artifacts …” Fenrir started from the wall he leaned on.

“Will have the capability of becoming a god, yes,” the Wisemon finished. “I am not the only one that is privy to that piece of information. As such, there have been countless attempts on my life simply to obtain the Spirits that I already have in my possession.”

“Like the bandits,” Fenrir said, glancing outside.

“Yes, like those incompetent pair of brothers and their band of villainous vagrants,” the Wisemon decided, nodding to himself. “I’ve been forced to take shelter in this hut of mine to protect myself and the Spirits. I’ve been getting sustenance from vittles I had stored in orbital space, but I’ve found that instead of lasting a year, it only lasted me three months,” he then said, his posture making it seem like that was a far worse result than it sounded.

“Well then, between me and Mr. says-a-lot over there, you won’t have to worry about people trying to get to you anymore.” Tiwaz started, gesturing to the quiet Beowolfmon.

“I believe so, Tiway, which was why I suggested it to the Albinowolfmon in the first place,” the Wisemon replied.

“For the last time, old man, my name’s Tiwaz!” the EmperorGreymon said, standing up to full height. “And I’m an EmperorGreymon, and he’s a Beowolfmon that goes by the name of Fenrir.”

The Wisemon looked at him and then nodded to himself. “Right. Tweez the EmperorCrymon and Renfair the Bearwolfmon.”

“I can’t believe this.” Tiwaz palmed his face in disbelief. “No wonder you can’t remember your own name. You must’ve been messing it up so much that people don’t know what to call you anymore.”

It was then that a realization came upon the EmperorGreymon. “So since we’re gonna be traveling together for a while, what do we call you?” he asked the Wisemon in front of him.

“Hm…you have quite point,” the Wisemon replied, a finger in the air. “Oh well, I assume we’ll have to make one for me. I always did like the name Bartholomew. Or perhaps Aidan. Though I am partial to-“

“Stop your endless jabbering!” Tiwaz instantly interrupted as the Wisemon began to speak faster and faster, coming up with more and more names. “You know what? If you can’t even get our names correct, then you don’t have the right to name yourself!”

“I beg your pardon? I am quite well aware of your name, Emwaz!”

“Emwa- Gragh! ‘T’! Tiwaz, you crazy old geezer!” Tiwaz said, his hands on his head. If he had hair, he would have been pulling at them. And then he stopped, his expression switching from very irritated to inspired. “That’s it! From now on, you’re Cog…Cogwej!” he said, folding his arms, pleased with himself.

The Wisemon stared at him. “What?” the cloaked Digimon asked.

“Just take the first letters of the phrase ‘Crazy Old Geezer Who Endlessly Jabbers’ and you get Cogwej. Cog for short,” he told the newly named Digimon. “It helps that it reminds me that you have a few of them missing in your head,” he added, pointing at the Wisemon’s head.

“How dare you!? I won’t stand for such a…such a…horrendous, abominable, reprehensible, contemptible appellation!”

“If that means you don’t like your name, then tough,” Tiwaz told him, folding his arms and giving the Wisemon a stubborn look.

“Can’t I at least change the meaning? Like Charmingly Outstanding Genius Who’s Eruditely Jubilant? Yes, that would work!”

“No, it won’t!”

“Yes, it will!”



As the two Digimon degenerated to arguing about one of their names, Fenrir simply shook his head and sat down on a chair against the wall. That was not going to be a topic he wanted to join into. He didn’t want to have their names embedded in his mind anyway. As soon as he got what he wanted, he was going back to wandering solo. That meant he wasn’t going to need to remember their names anymore.

The Beowolfmon stared at his hands.

Am I really that close now?’ he wondered to himself, closing and then opening his hands. ‘I…I can hardly believe it…but I saw what those artifacts could do firsthand. They’re powerful enough to…

He clenched his fists tightly as he closed his eyes. ‘This has to be it.

“-right Fenrir!?” Tiwaz’s voice suddenly yelled, cutting into his thoughts. The Beowolfmon opened his eyes and turned to them. “What do you think?”

Fenrir blinked, realizing that both of them were not looking at him with intense expressions on their faces. “I think…”

“Yes, yes, go on. Don’t be afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings,” the Wisemon dubbed Cog said, glancing at Tiwaz in time with his vocal emphasis.

“…we should rest. It’s past midnight, and we need to have an early start by sunrise,” Fenrir finished, leaning back against his seat, folding his arms and closing his eyes to highlight his point.

“That’s not what I- what do you mean it’s past midnight?” Tiwaz asked, turning to the boarded windows. “There’s light coming from the spaces between the boards.”

“Those are from my runes,” the Wisemon then told him. “They emit stronger illumination by nightfall.”

“Well, you’ve got yourself some handy runes, Cog,” Tiwaz then said, nodding to himself.

“Of course,” the Wisemon replied. The meaning of his new name still differed greatly from the meaning from Tiwaz’s, but that argument seemed to have ended for the moment with Tiwaz’s realization. “Then I shall retire now then! Please awaken me the moment we are to depart,” he added, moving over to the bed in the room, the one that Tiwaz had woken up in.

Tiwaz nodded, and then turned to Fenrir.

“So, did you really fall asleep that fast?” he asked the Beowolfmon. However, he didn’t get a reply. “Huh, guess you did.”

The EmperorGreymon looked around. “There has to be one in an old house like- ah, there’s one!”

Tiwaz walked over to one of the walls and then sat down, leaning against it. Right beside him was a small hole, enough for one of his eyes to see through, that he could use to see the outside with. “I’m going to keep a lookout just in case. There’s no way I’m going to sleep,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

That’s just asking the crazy old geezer to strip me while I’m not aware of it’ the dragon man thought as he kept his eyes open, not convinced at all that Cog was satisfied with simply knowing that he was a god of fire.


(next post)​


Tiwaz’s eyes shot open. He raised his head from his chest, blinking away the remnants of slumber. “So much for not sleeping,” he muttered to himself, realizing that he had fallen asleep after half an hour of doing nothing but watch two other people go into sack time.


The EmperorGreymon frowned, realizing that what had woken him up was still going on in the form of the shaking of various objects, including the table beside him and the chair that Fenrir sat on. The Beowolfmon, too, was wide awake, woken up by the abnormal vibrations.


Fenrir instantly stood up as Tiwaz turned to check the eyehole to see what was causing the disturbance. He balked when he saw what was outside, stomping towards them at a slow but dangerous pace.

“Whu- what?” Cog muttered, being shaken up by Fenrir. “Is it departure time already?”

“Worse,” Fenrir told him. “We have company.”

“Big company,” Tiwaz added, standing and turning to them.

As if proving the EmperorGreymon’s words, yet another resounding boom echoed in the room, shaking various furniture and objects.

“What’s outside?” Fenrir asked as the Wisemon quickly jumped off of his bed and summoned his two orbs, stuffing various objects inside the temporal/orbital space inside them.

“Ghoulmon. Black and probably two-thirds the size of this house,” Tiwaz answered, relying on past experience when it came to dire situations and quick-fire plans. “Never seen one that color or that size,” the EmperorGreymon said, glancing at the wall from which the demon Digimon was behind.

“The black hue means the creature must be enraged,” Cog interrupted, one of his hands deep inside one of the orbs. “They’re much more dangerous in such a state.”

“Which means we’re going to have to engage it carefully,” Fenrir noted, grabbing the hilt of his Beo Saber. “The large size might mean it’s very strong physically.”

“The bigger they are, the harder they fall,” Tiwaz said, doing the same with his own weapon.

“We should wait before attacking,” Fenrir then said, looking outside.

“Wait? What for?” Tiwaz asked, appalled at the idea. “The sooner we get rid of it, the faster we can get out of here before some other walking disaster gets here.”

Fenrir opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off when a loud voice drowned out his own that caused both he and Tiwaz to look towards the direction of the Ghoulmon

Explosion Eye!”

A second later, the house shook violently, causing furniture to fall and a shelf by a wall crash into the floor. Two out of three occupants were barely able to keep themselves on their feet. A bright light shined outside, telling them that the barrier around the house was still functioning.

“We’ll wait until it has exhausted most of its power on the barrier,” Fenrir then said, turning to Tiwaz. “Then we strike when it’s at its weakest.”

Tiwaz frowned. “I am not going to stay here and wait when I can get something done right at this moment!”

“At the cost of taking more risks than the situation warrants,” Fenrir retorted with narrowed eyes. The lack of sleep didn’t do any good on his patience.

“The higher the stakes, the better the reward,” Tiwaz said back, narrowing his own eyes. “And who dares, wins. I say we get out and there and teach big and ugly a lesson.”

The Ghoulmon outside gave a beastly roar as yet another attack struck the room, this one stronger than the last one and knocking both armored Digimon to the floor.

“And there is no way you’re making me sit here and get knocked on my back every time the damn thing attacks!” Tiwaz added heatedly, getting back up.

“And even if we did follow your plan, I’m quite afraid the barrier won’t last long,” Cog’s voice suddenly cut in before the recovering Beowolfmon could reply. “In order to maintain its durability, it requires a charge nightly. I neglected to do so because I assumed that we would leave by morning,” he explained, looking around at his home.

“See? We need to get out there now!” Tiwaz then said triumphantly at Fenrir’s frowning face. “We need to show that ugly, one-eyed behemoth who's boss!”

“That, however, is not necessary,” Cog then said, drawing inquisitive gazes from both of them. It was only then that they noticed that the Wisemon was carrying a torch, the light of which blended with the light from the outside.

The cloaked Digimon then gestured to a floor beside him…only it had a trapdoor on it which led to darkness. It took both of them to realize that it was where the bed, which had been moved by the Wisemon, was previously situated at.

“This passage will lead us to the other side of the mountain peak. We should exit posthaste; we don’t have a lot of time before the barrier collapses,” Cog told them, already going down the stairwell under the trapdoor.

“Wait a second, are you saying we should just flee?” Tiwaz asked, sounding disgusted at the thought. He then spotted Fenrir walking towards the trapdoor. “And where are you going?”

“Down,” he told the EmperorGreymon.

“You’re just going to run away just like that!? I thought you were above such cowardly tactics!” Tiwaz said accusingly.

“You might hate the thought of retreating, but that act itself saved lives when those ignorant and foolish few that stayed get killed. So if you want to stay here and wantonly risk your life, then fine,” Fenrir replied, turning to the EmperorGreymon with cold eyes. “In fact, I’m not forcing you to go with us, and neither is the hermit. You can do whatever you want. But know this, we will leave you behind if you choose to stay. My responsibility now is to make sure Cog remains unharmed during his quest, and if I have to do that without you, then so be it.”

Without any further words or waiting for the dragon man’s reply, the Beowolfmon ran down the steps, running after the glow that came from Cogwej’s torch.

Tiwaz was about to shout after the Beowolfmon when yet another attack struck. This one seemed to have been much stronger, causing a wooden panel from the ceiling to fall down and the dragon man to fall on the ground once more. By the time he regained his balance, Fenrir was already too far in to hear him.

“Dammit,” the EmperorGreymon cursed, torn between following the two and going out and dealing with the Ghoulmon. He knew that dealing with it would take considerably longer without Fenrir’s help.

The dragon man then turned to the trap door and ran towards it, shouting out a string of curses with each step, making his distaste known as much as possible. He was barely able to spot the light that led towards the Beowolfmon and the Wisemon, and he immediately rushed towards it.

Behind him, the sounds of the Ghoulmon’s attacks slowly got quieter and quieter before it finally disappeared completely, the only sound coming from the clanging of his armor and the stamping of his footsteps.

“Quite nice of you to join us, Tamaz,” Cog said, hearing the EmperorGreymon’s footsteps behind him as he continued down the tunnel. “You have quite a larger vocabulary than I realized,” he then said, having heard his tirade.

“It’s Tiwaz, Crazy Old Geezer,” Tiwaz replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t like this plan,” he added, glancing at the Beowolfmon that regarded his appearance with silence.

“Is the tunnel long?” he then asked the Wisemon, turning in front of him.

“Not so. It takes an hour walking, so at our pace, it should take about less than thirty minutes,” Cog replied.

“Great,” Tiwaz muttered. “I should have stayed with the Ghoulmon instead.”

“If you keep on worrying about things you should have done, then you’re never going to move forward,” Fenrir told him, not even bothering to look at the EmperorGreymon.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Tiwaz replied, not concealing his irritation.

Silence ensued when Fenrir didn’t give him a reply. Their quiet atmosphere, though tense and unnerving, continued on for the following minutes after that; even Cogwej kept his thoughts to himself…until he spotted the light at the end of the tunnel.

“We’re close!” the Wisemon said excitedly, sprinting faster towards the exit.

“Finally,” Tiwaz said, doing the same as he and the Beowolfmon beside him quickly caught up with the hermit.

“Ah, how refreshing! We’re just in time to see the sunrise!” Cog said as he took his first step out of the cavern to see the horizon in front of him.

As Tiwaz and Fenrir exited, they saw what the Wisemon spoke about. The sun rose from horizon’s edge, coating the green land and cloudy sky with hues of orange and red. It’s morning light sped downwards and towards them, reaching the small waking town that sat at the base of the mountain.

“So we head down there, next?” Tiwaz asked, looking down to gaze upon the small settlement.

“Quite right there. We require supplies, after all,” Cogwej replied. “Plus, we still need to find the Spirit of Earth that slumbers in this mountain.”

The EmperorGreymon looked at him, startled. “The what!?”

“You mean the other spirit is right here under our noses, and you didn’t tell us?” Fenrir asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It didn’t seem important at the time,” Cog replied, already walking down the path that led to the town.

“…That crackpot is going to make me insane one of these days,” Tiwaz muttered to himself. And although Fenrir still didn’t feel like he and the dragon man were on good terms, he couldn’t help but nod his head in agreement.


Back at the hermit’s abandoned home, or what remained of the shattered and broken house, the Ghoulmon fell on its knees and hands.

All around it were the pieces of wood, along with crushed furniture. After the barrier finally ran its last leg, the house stood no chance against the fury of the demonic Digimon. Parts of it were charred black by its lasers, others pounded into sawdust. The ground was completely malformed, full of deep claw prints, trenches from the Ghoulmon’s lasers, craters from its attacks, and even embedded with planks of wood that had been blasted away.

The Ghoulmon then growled. “Where…are you…old man…?” it wheezed, its body shaking angrily. “Where…did…you…hide!?” it shouted, slamming a fist into the wooden floor beneath him.

To its surprise, its claws punched right through, opening up a stairwell in front of him. And then with realization, the Ghoulmon narrowed its one, large eye.

“So that’s…where you…went,” it snarled.

The Ghoulmon then stood back up, light gathering around it. “Just wait…for me…old man,” it said as it was surrounded by the glow and began to shrink. “I’m going…to find you…even if…it’s the last thing…I do…”

And then the light faded away, the Digimon taking on a more familiar form. “…or my name isn’t Dietrich Reynard!”


No. 1 Grovyle Fan
Well, that was a good chapter.

And you get bonus points for not killing off Heinrich like I assumed you would do. My favourite characters mostly always end up getting killed. I can't help but feel sorry for the two brothers though. I'm almost rooting for Dietrich, even though Tiwaz, Fenrir and Cog are the protagonists. xD

Let's see, the description was quite good in that chapter, especially with the artifacts. I could clearly imagine what they looked like, so good job there. Keep it up. The characterization was also quite good, with even the supporting characters becoming deeper (something which I'm fond of.)

For the most part, Tiwaz was better this time around. Keep on sticking to him being less overly animated, while still being enough for him to be involved in more comedic scenes. Striking a balance between over-the-top and too serious can be tough. But yeah, anything else here would just be rehashing what was said already.

It was also pretty amusing. The suggestive interaction (as interpreted by Cog) between Tiwaz and Fenrir was fun. xD I know you haven't watched Doctor Who, but Cog kinda reminds me of the Tenth Doctor a bit.

Hmm... what else? The plot you're forming is looking to be quite interesting. I'm excited for the next Act/chapter and I'm curious to see what the Spirit of Earth does. And I'm sure Tiwaz and Fenrir's rivalry will escalate too. I'm having quite a bit of fun with this. (And it's only going to make it harder for me when I have to write my short story...)

Anyways, I'm just rambling now. That was good. Review end.
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God of Monsters
I'll agree with what Griff has already said and not repeat too much. Props for deepening the antagonists and for the interesting and characterizing dialogue. We get a few hints of some sense of urgency (someone/thing) has a bone to pick with Cog. I had a problem with some of the names; Heinrich and Dietrich (and Faize to a lesser extent) all have similar structures and it gets a bit confusing.

I think right now the biggest issue I have is that I'm sympathizing more with Deitrich (the MetalPhantomon, right?) than I am with Fenrir or Tiwaz. Having a sense of mystery in Fenrir's motives is good, but you're three chapters in and there's still not real mention of his reasons for venturing out.
And you get bonus points for not killing off Heinrich like I assumed you would do. My favourite characters mostly always end up getting killed. I can't help but feel sorry for the two brothers though. I'm almost rooting for Dietrich, even though Tiwaz, Fenrir and Cog are the protagonists. xD
Props for deepening the antagonists and for the interesting and characterizing dialogue. We get a few hints of some sense of urgency (someone/thing) has a bone to pick with Cog.

I think right now the biggest issue I have is that I'm sympathizing more with Dietrich* (the MetalPhantomon, right?) than I am with Fenrir or Tiwaz
I can't tell whether that's a good or bad thing, to be honest. Dietrich'll be appearing again, and so will Heinrich, but my antagonists will always have their own agendas and motives. Not all of them believe what they are doing is evil, and truth be told, not all are evil or self-serving in origin. I can't make you like them any less than I can make people like Tiwaz and Fenrir more. I'll show more to the lovable duo later on.

Having a sense of mystery in Fenrir's motives is good, but you're three chapters in and there's still not real mention of his reasons for venturing out.
Hey, it's only the first three acts of the prologue. This is going to be quite long, trust me. Fen's reasons will slowly come to light, particularly when one of the characters will be introduced. Don't expect me to just blurt it. Fen's sensitive about it too, so he's not gonna tell people he just met...although Cog already knows.

Let's see, the description was quite good in that chapter, especially with the artifacts. I could clearly imagine what they looked like, so good job there. Keep it up.
Whoohoo! My life is complete! (aka: He loves making descriptions when he has the time to. xD)

The characterization was also quite good, with even the supporting characters becoming deeper (something which I'm fond of.)

For the most part, Tiwaz was better this time around. Keep on sticking to him being less overly animated, while still being enough for him to be involved in more comedic scenes. Striking a balance between over-the-top and too serious can be tough. But yeah, anything else here would just be rehashing what was said already.
I understand that. The fine line is more with Cog, really. Trying to make him smart while trying to show case his humorous side is difficult when my usual definitionof funny-smart are the smart-a[i/]sses and witty.

It was also pretty amusing. The suggestive interaction (as interpreted by Cog) between Tiwaz and Fenrir was fun. xD I know you haven't watched Doctor Who, but Cog kinda reminds me of the Tenth Doctor a bit.
You're right, but now I want to see it just to see the relation. Maybe it'll give me more inspiration for Cogwej.

And just so any readers know (and I hope I have them other than Kamotz and Griff), I may be able to get another chapter up by this week. If not, then it's more than likely that I'll get one up next week. Hopefully, I'm not going to be too busy.

Tundra, over and out.


No. 1 Grovyle Fan
Given that I more or less know about Fenrir (I think), yeah, I don't think you should reveal that too quickly. Especially since he's supposed to have an air of mystery about him. I'm wondering if you're going to explore and expand on Tiwaz, though, and if you need any help with that. Given our discussions about Tiwaz and Fenrir on msn, I wonder if that will help your characterization of them, at all.

Anyways, I'm looking forward to seeing what's going to happen with the Spirit of Earth.
I am soooooo sorry for the long wait. I have no excuses... Well, I do, but none of you would want to hear them, I'm sure.

Chapter I - The Blacksmith

Act. 1: The Trembling Earth Spirit

Also known as

“My peaches! My delicious peaches! Heavenly sweet but fiendishly left unconsumed! They need me!

Located right against the mountain, the small mining town of Bakhu was a rather simple settlement surrounded by a cement wall with an open entrance. Evenly spaced one and two-story houses were made mostly of cement and clay, some wooden ones dotting the outskirts of the town. The din of axe picks against metal and stone and of the usual bellowing of miners just starting, doing, or finishing their daily quota of labor that their work required from them. Shades of black, white and gray were the common colors, not needing the pastel hues of towns that travellers normally passed; travellers usually ignored the town despite the activity and noise that it exuded from a distance. Which is why, when a peculiar group of three walked into the town, a small commotion had begun.

“Why are all of these people staring at us?” Tiwaz had to ask, glancing around as children and a few adults stared shamelessly at them.

“This town does not get a steady stream of travellers,” Cog answered him, ignoring the looks they were getting. “Other than the usual resource cargoes, visitations with people that number more than two usually causes quite a stir!” the Wisemon explained with an amused laugh.

“Huh. They must not have a lot to do,” Tiwaz muttered to himself.

“Au contraire,” the Wisemon interceded. “These denizens are quite hard working. They produce more than half this region’s metal and ore, which is then used for various other utilities.”

Tiwaz and Fenrir turned to where the Wisemon then pointed, which was toward the mountain side which seemed to be riddled with entrances and rail tracks made by the town’s miners and prospectors. They could see Digmon lumbering to and fro, Golemon and Minotarumon carrying hammers and pick axes or pushing carts filled with chunks of stones and rocks.

“In fact, the reason why people gather when visitations occur is because the visitations are done by the wealthy who are looking to purchase the precious gems and metals that the miners oft uncover,” Cog continued as they walked into a rectangular shaped plaza where a few stalls were being set up and a large statue of a large humanoid with crystals on its back. Not any Digimon that Tiwaz or Fenrir were familiar with. “Their mayor, a Blastmon, is so fond of them that he regularly gorges on them!”

“We’re not here for jewels,” Fenrir stated, looking around and searching for stalls that sold any foodstuffs.

“The mutt’s right. The sooner we can get some supplies and something in our stomachs, the faster we can get to start looking for the relic,” Tiwaz added, nodding to himself as he turned to the Beowolfmon, who turned at another direction. “And where are you going?”

Fenrir stopped and turned to him, drawing the Beo Saber. “To find a blacksmith,” he told the EmperorGreymon, pointing the tips to the sky and studying the edges. “The blades haven’t been sharpened in a while.”

“Good idea. My Dragon Soul Sword needs to get a check-up too,” Tiwaz replied, turning to follow him.

Fenrir gave him a shake of a head. “You stay with Cogwej. Keep him out of trouble,” he instructed, turning to walk towards one of the pathways.

“Hey, I’m no babysitter!” Tiwaz retorted, putting his hands on his hips. “Besides, the old geezer can take care of himself. Right, Cog?” he asked, turning to look at the Wisemon...who was arguing rather heatedly with one of the vendors. “Oh, great.”

“That wasn’t a free sample, old man! You have to pay for that peach!” the vendor ranted, an open palm in front of him, asking for a form of payment from across the table Cog was in front of. He was a brownish-orange large creature that seemed to be made of rock and stone with the vague anatomy of a gorilla with large hands ending with humungous hands, spikes all over his body, and a very, very large nose. A prime example of a Gigasmon, if Cogwej ever saw one. If only it didn’t have such a sour personality.

“Well, I never! You were the one that inquired whether I wanted a peach, and I simply obliged you!” Cog replied, folding his arms and turning away with a humph. Before he could walk off, the Gigasmon grabbed the back of his cloak with his long arm.

“You are not leaving until you pay me for that peach!” he snarled, dragging the startled Wisemon backwards towards the stall desk. “That stuff is hard to come by!”

“Unhand me, fiend!” Cog yelled, struggling to escape from the grip despite beginning to hear his cloak begin to tear.

“Hey, let that crazy old man go!” Tiwaz’s roaring voice interrupted, the EmperorGreymon himself jogging towards them with an intimidating glare aimed at the indignant Wisemon and causing the both of them to temporarily stop their scene. “What the hell did you do!?”

“I did nothing other than what that this overgrown, heavily mutated piece of rock asked of me!” Cog replied, pointing accusingly at the Digimon behind him.

“Mutated!?” the Gigasmon repeated in an angered outburst, slamming his large hands on the desk in front of him and causing the table to splinter. “This coming from a freak that wears a cheap, ragged cloak all the time!?” he retorted.

“I’ll have you know that this cloak is of far better quality and definitely more valuable than all of the rather overripe and smelly spheres of oddments that you call fruits and vegetables,” was the Wisemon’s reply, complete with a rather fake look of disgust at the fruits, made known by the longing glance he took at the perfectly ripened basket of peaches.

“It is, eh?” the Gigasmon replied, a greedy glint appearing in his eyes, causing Tiwaz to narrow his eyes. “How about you trade me that cloak of yours for all of these then?” he asked, gesturing to his whole stand.

“…weeeeell,” Cogwej started just before Tiwaz abruptly pulled him backwards and reached for a compartment on his armor.

“Look, stop bothering the geezer. He’s definitely a lot crazier than he looks, and his cloak is as valuable as seaweed in a port town. Just let me pay for whatever he ate, and we’ll get out of your hair,” the EmperorGreymon said, giving the vendor a look that begot no arguments.

The stone Digimon growled and thought for a few moments before grunting. “Fine. The peach costs twenty digits,” the Gigasmon said, folding his arms and looking at Tiwaz seriously.

“T-twenty!?” Tiwaz balked, almost dropping the bag of coins he had procured from his body. “That’s a rip off! I can get a peach for a quarter of that price in the town I went to before here; like hell I’m paying that much for a damn peach!” he said, backing away and causing the Gigasmon to narrow his eyes at him.

“Look, lizard, maybe it cost that much there, but here, it’s twenty digits,” the golem Digimon told him. “Do you even know where we got this?” he asked, picking one of the fruits up and showing it to him. “Does it look like we get it locally? Do we look like we have farms and trees anywhere near here?” he asked again.

“Well, how else do you get it?” Tiwaz asked, folding his arms.

"We just can’t use the ground here; it’s too hard, not to mention infertile, so we have to get them from supply caravans that come by monthly,” the Gigasmon informed him. “We buy as much as we can afford and then sell as much as we can until the next month, or unless it’s winter where we have to make it last until spring when the caravans come by again.”

The Gigasmon shooks his head. “Not only food either. Anything we can’t get from the mountain or the river a few miles from here, we buy from them. Wood, glass, liquor, food; they’re all bought from supply caravans. We do what we can to survive,” he told the traveller.

Tiwaz frowned at the thought. He didn’t realize living in such a place that was far off from normal travel routes would have been so difficult. He pulled his pouch of coins out once more, saying, “I guess if that’s how it normally is.”

He took out a couple of silver coins and tossed them on the table, the pieces clinging as they landed. “There’s extra in there for the ruckus the geezer caused,” Tiwaz told the Gigasmon.

“Yeah, sure, just make sure he doesn’t come back to eat more of merchandise…unless he intends to pay for it,” the Gigasmon grumbled. “While we’re on the topic, you want to buy anything?”

“Maybe some other time. I need to make sure Cog doesn’t cause another scene,” Tiwaz replied, rubbing the back of his head.

“Too late for that,” the Gigasmon told him, pointing to behind the dragon man.

Tiwaz grimaced. He had half a mind to just not look behind him and feign ignorance. Of course, his conscience and his need to help others – not to mention his curiosity – got the better of him, and the dragon man looked over his shoulder. And then his jaw dropped.

Kyaaaa! Get away from me, you freak!” a female voice screamed. It belonged to a digimon with a tusked, tapir-like upper body connected to what looked to be a stream of clouds. She had a terrified, wide-eyed look, and she was flying away as fast as her, er, whatever she used to move around could take her. That wasn’t what made Tiwaz’s jaw drop.

“Wait! Come back! I only want to capture you and study your dream manipulating abilities!” Cogwej yelled, carrying a large glass jar the size of half his body under one arm as he chased after the Tapirmon. “Don’t fret; I made sure to riddle the lid with perforations for oxygen!”

Tiwaz watched in disbelief as the duo ran around the plaza statue. Then he palmed his forehead, muttering to himself, “I didn’t realize that when I agreed to protect the geezer, I was going to protect people from him too!”

“I wonder where the crazy guy got the glass from,” the vendor behind him wondered out loud, eyeing the jar that Cogwej carried. “I bet it must cost a lot to make it. Hey, you think you can get him to-”

“No,” Tiwaz answered right away, walking towards the scene had already begun to attract a small crowd of curious onlookers.

He stopped in front of the statue, waiting for them to pass him by. He ignored the female Tapirmon as she passed him by in a rush. Then just as Cog was about to do the same, he extended his arm and grabbed him by his cloak, forcibly halting him and inadvertently causing the Wisemon to let go of his jar, sending it flying and then crashing on the ground into many pieces.

What happened next shocked Tiwaz more than the scene that Cog had caused.

Someone yelled. The next moment, people, including the vendors, were scrambling towards the broken glass, grabbing for the pieces that it had broken into. The crowd had gotten so thick that Tiwaz had to force himself out of it, his hand hanging onto Cog’s cloak like a vice. It had taken them at least a minute to get out of the mass of people, Tiwaz grunting as he pulled the Wisemon out.

“-so peculiar that they’re this besotted with the glass. This town’s economical dilemma must be a lot more serious that I previously deduced,” Cog muttered to himself, somehow procuring a notebook and a pencil from somewhere on his body and writing it down. Then he continued his observations, still talking to himself.

Tiwaz rolled his eyes. “It’s just glass,” he muttered to himself.

“To one such as you, perhaps, but heated glass can be metamorphosed into intricate and rather expensive statuettes,” Cogwej told him, turning to him with the erudite gaze that occasionally appeared on his face.

“If you put it that way,” Tiwaz amended, turning to the crowd. They were causing such a ruckus that he had to frown. Then a louder sound pierced through their commotion.

What is going on here!?

As if someone flicked a switch, the crowd silenced, following by their rapid dissolution, scurrying away from the plaza. Tiwaz took the chance to glance at the area where the glass broke to see that the only remaining pieces were the ones that were too small to be any significant but still large enough to glimmer under the sunlight that shone down on the plaza. And then he looked towards the origin of the loud voice that had caused the townspeople to run off.y

“That must be the town mayor!” Cogwej said, having seen the source first.

Tiwaz blinked and then narrowed his eyes; the mayor’s visage was blindingly bright. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust and finally take in the town official. And then he realized he was looking at what looked to be the base of the plaza’s statue.

“Damn,” Tiwaz had to say. “He’s huge.”

Just as the EmperorGreymon said, the mayor was a large Digimon. His lower body and his arms were decked out in metal armor adorned with gems. His whole body, quite apparently made of reflective crystals, sparkled brightly under the sun. Even his head was composed of them, although his face was a flat surface with a pair of ruby-red eyes and a mouth. Trailing behind him was a tail encased in metal and ending with a blue sphere-like mace and a long black cape that billowed as he approached.

“What is going on here!?” the Blastmon mayor demanded. “Why has a disruptive commotion happened in my town!?”

“This might be a good time to leave the sc- Cog! Where are you going!?” Tiwaz asked, turning to see that the Wisemon had begun to walk towards the mayor.

“Good morning, sir mayor!” Cog greeted with a wave. “If you could please answer a few of my questions, I would be very- grmph!”

“Ignore him,” Tiwaz said, muffling Cogwej’s mouth. “He’s not right in the head. Now if you’ll excuse us,” Tiwaz said as he was about to leave.

“Halt!” the Blastmon ordered, causing the duo to look back at him tentatively. “You’re not from here, are you?” he asked with his deep voice.

“Er, no, we’re-“

“The cause of the commotion?” the Blastmon finished for him with a raised eyebrow.

“No! Er, well maybe-“

“Then that’s all I need to know,” the crystal man said, folding his arms. “If you know what’s good for you, you will come with me.”

“Maybe next ti-“

“Of course we will!” Cogwej interrupted, breaking from Tiwaz’s grasp and instantly getting beside the Blastmon. “Perhaps we can converse over a cup of tea and plate of sliced, fresh peaches?” he asked enthusiastically.

The mayor grunted and turned to walk away, Cogwej following beside him dutifully. And Tiwaz stared once more in disbelief.


The moment he stepped inside the smith’s shop, sounds of metal clanging against metal invaded Fenrir’s ears. Combined with the tapping of a foot, a humming of a deep voice, the strikes were being timed perfectly, turning what was supposed to be the dull and eye-wincing sound into a rather pleasant tune…although the Beowolfmon decided that it wasn’t quite his taste.

His eyes were treated to the sight of an ordinary blacksmith’s shop. Three wooden pillars stood in a triangular formation, adding support to the clay ceiling. One long, wooden desk spanned from the far end of the wall until a third of the way across the room. On the desk were the basic tools of trade for blacksmiths all over the planet, some of which Fenrir was already familiar with. Behind the desk were wooden cabinets and glass caskets filled with various metals. Again on the wall opposite from the entrance, a furnace burned brightly, the usual air pump and ventilation chimney along with it. Then Fenrir turned his head once more, and he then found himself looking at the source of the light song at the other side of the room.

Fenrir saw the owner’s back facing towards him. Said owner was sitting on a clay stool. Other than the ducked head, he observed two volcano craters set on the blacksmith’s shoulder blades and what was once a white scarf but was then a worn out one covered in soot and ash. He wore black armor with shoulder pads studded with spikes, and around his waist was a yellow belt.

It seemed that the smith didn’t hear him enter. “Ahem,” Fenrir grunted, making himself known.

Almost immediately, the tune ended and the blacksmith raised his head. He looked over his shoulder, revealing to Fenrir a face like a metal-mask with a horn protruding from the forehead area. Inside the eye sockets were eyes that were similar to Cogwej’s in appearance, the difference being the color, for where the Wisemon’s eyes were enthusiastic and yellow, the blacksmith’s were calm and white with specks of silver.

“…Can I help you?” the blacksmith asked in a low tone, standing and turning to him. In one hand was a large blacksmith’s hammer that looked like it was made of high quality metal. In the other looked like a pick-axe, although it one end looked less like a point and more like a square block. It was also bright red, meaning it was still quite hot.

PileVolcamon,’ Fenrir thought to himself.

To answer his question, the Beowolfmon unsheathed the Beo Saber and raised it horizontally in front of him. “Well?” Fenrir asked as the blacksmith’s eyes widened slightly in interest.

The blacksmith placed the pick-axe back on the anvil he had been sitting in front of and walked towards Fenrir, scrutinizing the weapon in his hand. “It’s not going to be cheap,” he said, although from the look in his face, Fenrir thought that he could probably get him to lower his price significantly.

“I can pay,” he replied after some short consideration as the PileVolcamon stopped in front of him.

“May I?” he asked, opening his palms for Fenrir to place the weapon in them.

Fenrir nodded, meticulously placing his weapon in the PileVolcamon’s hands. He stayed silent as the other Digimon weighed it in his hands, scrutinizing the edges and planes, as well as giving it a few swings. The Beowolfmon simply stepped aside with folded arms and watched. He could tell by the way he moved that the blacksmith was no stranger to a brawl.

“It’s lightweight, but it seems durable. The design is unique, as well,” the volcano-backed Digimon said in a low tone, glancing at the weapon’s owner. “Must be special if someone like you uses it,” he added, prompting a raised eyebrow from said someone.

“And what does that mean?” Fenrir asked.

“It’s how you carry yourself…like an experienced swordsman. Experienced swordsmen don’t carry around low quality swords,” the blacksmith said, turning to face him with the Beo Sabre in one hand. “It’s…a pleasure to work for you. I…don’t get to do a lot of metalwork on high-quality weapons,” he told Fenrir calmly, offering his free hand and a tiny smile. Tentatively, the wolf man took the hand and gave it a firm shake, which the PileVolcamon returned amicably.

“Pavamana Suchi,” the blacksmith told him. “But people call me Pav.”

“Fenrir Weissritter,” the white-armored warrior returned with a nod, returning his hand to his side.

“Nice to meet you,” Pav said with a soft smile.

“It’s going to take a while to finish it…since it has two blades. Then I need a replacement alloy. Light, but durable too,” Pavamana told Fenrir, turning to the furnace that was to one side of the room.

Fenrir nodded, understanding. It wasn’t the first time a smith had told him that. “How long?” he asked, not missing a beat.

“A night, maybe…if I focus on it.” Pavamana frowned a bit. “Rhodo…won’t like that. I need to finish the shovels and-”

“I’ll pay for the extra cost,” Fenrir said, not bothering to ask who the person named Rhodo was. It wasn’t his business, and he wasn’t planning to make it so. He was more interested in the fact that the PileVolcamon could finish the job in a single night when most smiths would have taken at least two days.

Pavamana’s small smile returned to his face as he put the weapon carefully on a desk to start the preparations. “Please. Rhodo won’t mind if you do that,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at the Beowolfmon.

“How much?” Fenrir asked, procuring out a pouch that clinked as he pulled it out.

“It should be- gragh!”

The words that came from Pav’s mouth were instantly interrupted by the sudden rumbling of the ground, followed by the sounds of glass crashing – the caskets behind the desk, Fenrir saw – and the screaming and yelling that came from the outside.

Earthquake!” Pavamana yelled, ducking under the desk and grabbing onto the leg for stability. “Get down and grab onto something!” he ordered Fenrir, who quickly crouched and held onto one of the wooden beams that held up the ceiling.

The quake lasted for five to six seconds, which was enough to cause most of the cabinets behind the desk to fall and break, spilling their contents on the ground. To their fortune, the wooden pillar held, although Fenrir could see faint cracks on the one that he held onto.

The duo stayed silent for a few seconds before standing up, Fenrir grunting as he brushed dust and debris from his armor while Pavamana went to check outside. Fenrir was about to follow a few seconds after only for the blacksmith to reenter, a frown on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked his client. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“I’m unhurt,” Fenrir replied with a short nod.

“Good,” Pavamana told him with a small smile. “Things are okay outside, but I’m worried for the other houses near the mountain. They’re…usually hit the hardest,” he said, more to himself as he went to pick up the pieces of metal on the floor. “I’m…sorry. You might have to wait a little bit longer.”

Fenrir went to do the same. “It’s fine. I can wait,” he told him. “Do you get quakes often?” he asked, glancing at the PileVolcamon.

He nodded in reply, although there was a frown on his face. “But…they’re usually minor. Just some shaking. Maybe a broken window. Now…they’re stronger. More common. I…I understand if you want to leave now” he said with a slight melancholic tone. Fenrir deduced that it the event must have at least happened once or twice before.

“I’ll be fineha. You just get the job done,” he replied, standing and placing the metals on the desk.

Pavamana stood up with a large grin. “I…won’t let you down,” he said with a subtle smile. “I’ll make it cheaper for you, too.”

Fenrir allowed himself a small smile. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand once more to the PileVolcamon.

“Deal,” he replied, giving the Beowolfmon a firmer shake than before. One with a lot more strength than the previous one, making Fenrir force himself not to flinch at the pressure.

“Um, Uncle Pav?”

Both the Beowolfmon and the PileVolcamon turned to look at the source of the voice, seeing a panting and tired looking Armadillomon at the door.

Fenrir froze. For a moment, he didn’t see the Armadillomon. He saw a young Salamon, covered head to toe in blood. The vision was immediately cast away at Pavamana’s loud, worried voice.

“Cammie!” the blacksmith called out, raising his voice for once as he rushed to the side of the rookie Digimon. “You’re leg is hurt!” he called out, noticing the slight flow of blood on the Armadillomon’s left foreleg.

“I only tripped, uncle,” the young Digimon said, blushing as the larger Digimon took her in his arms.

“During the quake? Didn’t your dad teach you to be careful during earthquakes?” the PileVolcamon asked, frowning as he looked her over to make sure she didn’t have any more life-threatening injuries.

Cammie nodded. “But he said I had to do something ‘portant for him,” she said, her eyes wide and innocent.

“Important? What?” Pav asked, his nonexistent brows furrowing.

Cammie turned to Fenrir. “He wanted me to bring him home,” she explained, pointing at the Beowolfmon with her tail.

Fenrir blinked, having recovered from his vision a few seconds ago. “Me?” he asked, pointing to himself in surprise.

“Him?” Pavamana asked as well, looking very confused.

“Yep,” the armadillo Digimon replied with a nod. “His friends are there, too!” she said.

Fenrir had to stop his jaw from dropping. Instead, he brought a hand to his face, covering his eyes and groaning internally.

What did they do now?’ he thought to himself. A second later, he decided that he was many times better off simply not knowing.


Fenrir folded his arms, sitting on a rather lavish seat in front of a large, round table that had a white table cloth over it with a glass statue of a jar-like creature with angel wings on its back. The room he was in looked pretty luxurious compared to the blacksmith’s shop, complete with a shelf of books and a red, silk curtains for the window. The wooden floor even had carpeting. Of course, the room would have looked better had it not sustained damage from the earlier earthquake, though it seemed like some cleaning had been done before he had arrived.

Of course, the other occupants on similar chairs around the table kept Fenrir from thinking too much on his surroundings. On one side of him was Pavamana, who had helped bring him to the house of the mayor, Cammie’s father and a close friend of the blacksmith’s. On his other side was Tiwaz, slumped on the chair and looking grumpy…or probably restless after the earthquake. Beside the dragon man was Cog, looking apparently unaffected from the quake and was chipper as ever as he munched on slices of pear fruit on a plate in front of him. And finally, directly across Fenrir was the mayor. Quite apparently, he was the Rhodo that Pavamana had spoken of.

“So…you’re telling me…that the cause of the recent earthquakes…is one of the ten relics?” Fenrir asked slowly, trying to absorb the information he was being fed.

“The Spirit of Earth, in fact, Endear,” Cogwej told him, licking the juices of the fruit from his fingers. “The quakes grew in amount and magnitude three months ago, simultaneous with my settlement atop the mountain,” the Wisemon said, reaching over the table for more pieces of fruit.

“Um…don’t you mean Fenrir?” Pavamana asked, glancing at the Beowolfmon.

“Trust me, I don’t think you’ll ever get the geezer to get our names right,” Tiwaz said, sounding more like a statement than an insult.

“Of course I will, Tybalt,” Cogwej said, affronted – though not quite affronted enough to lose his appetite as he took another bite of fruits. Tiwaz’s eye twitched. He was too exhausted to try and correct him. “In any situation, I have deduced that the presence of the other three artifacts within in my possession have caused the Spirit of Earth to react rather uncontrollably and erratically due to its prolonged exposure to the other three.”

Fenrir frowned. “But they’re within your magic bag,” he said.

“Yes, but as I have explained before, they are still powerful entities. It is possible that the Earth relic can still sense the Fire, Water and Thunder Spirits despite the shielding runes I cast on it. That’s how powerful they are!” Cog said gleefully.

“Powerful or not, I want them out of my town,” Rhodo cut in. “I don’t know how much longer we can handle the earthquakes, especially if they get any stronger than they’ve already become.”

“Long story short, he wants us to find the Earth Spirit for him and then take it out of here before it brings the whole town down,” Tiwaz summarized, leaning forward on the table. “Which is a lot harder than it sounds, considering we still don’t know where it is exactly.”

Fenrir raised an eyebrow. “So how are we going to locate it?” he asked.

Cog then cut in, pointing a peach slice at the Beowolfmon. “Elementary, dear Furor! We enter the mines and comb the caverns for the Spirit of Earth, using the artifacts I have in my possession as a compass,” he said, making Fenrir look at him with sudden realization.

Pavamana, however, frowned. “Um…excuse me?” he interjected. “Can…someone explain…please?”

“The spirits glow if they get close with other artifacts,” Tiwaz explained.

“And the closer they are, the brighter the artifacts will shine,” Cogwej finished, looking for more food to eat and frowning when he found none. He turned to Rhodo. “If you please?” he asked, his face contorted into a happy smile.

The Blastmon mayor looked over to his side where his daughter sat comfortably, looking back up at him. “Cammie? Be a dear and go ask Batton to fetch our guests another plate of fruits,” he asked her gently.

“Kay, papa.” The Armadillomon then exited the room to look for their house butler, thinking to herself.

“Wonderful!” Cogwej exclaimed happily. “Now, where were we?” he asked, turning back to his companions. Tiwaz and Fenrir had to roll their eyes at him.

“Before we go in, we need to get some supplies first,” Tiwaz then started. “Who knows how long we’ll be inside? We’re going to need some food and water if we want to search long enough to find the thing,” he added.

“And we need to start soon,” the Beowolfmon added.

“Before…something terrible happens,” Pav finished for them, looking down on his clasped hands on the table.

“It will take some time to gather all of them,” Rhodo decided, nodding to himself. “I will have everything you need delivered to your accommodations by tomorrow noon.”

“Which reminds me that we still don’t even have any place to stay,” Tiwaz noted, tilting his head a bit, causing both Rhodo and Pavamana to frown.

“That won’t do,” the mayor told them. He turned to the blacksmith. “Tell Den that our visitors are going to stay in his inn for tonight, and that I will be paying for the expenses,” he told him, and his reply was a quiet nod.

“We appreciate it,” Fenrir told him with a gracious nod, noticing that a Golemon wearing a black bowtie had entered the room, carrying one plate of fruits on one hand a plate of what looked to be tiny gems in another.

“Oh, goodie!” Cogwej started as the plate of fruits was placed in front of him, while the plate of gems was placed in front of Rhodo. Unlike the Wisemon, who immediately dove into his food enthusiastically, the Blastmon placed one gem at a time in his mouth, the sounds of crunching ringing out loudly in the room.

“I think we should go now,” Fenrir suddenly said, standing up. Tiwaz did the same, nodding.

“W-what? But I’m not yet finished!” Cog whined. “And I still haven’t acquired my answers for my questions for Roda!” he added, shaking his fists in front of him.

“It’s Rhodo,” the mayor corrected, folding his arms and turning to him. “And I can answer your questions at a later time. I need to speak with Pavamana about a private matter,” he said as he turned to the PileVolcamon, who blinked in surprise.

“Uh…sure,” Pav replied, looking at the mayor curiously.

“Unhand me, you fiend!” Cog yelled as Tiwaz pulled him up by the base of his hood.

“Come on, Cog. We’re going before you eat them out of house and home,” Tiwaz muttered as he carried the Wisemon out of his seat.

“No! My peaches! My delicious peaches! Heavenly sweet but fiendishly left unconsumed! They need me!” Cog wailed, struggling to get out of the EmperorGreymon’s grip as he was brought over to the door.

“Batton, please escort them to the inn,” Rhodo requested, turning to the Golemon that was still in the room. The golem Digimon silently gave a deep bow and went to follow Tiwaz and Cog, still complaining loudly, outside.

Before turning to do the same, Fenrir looked at Pavamana. “I’ll come back tomorrow for the Beo Sabre,” he told the blacksmith, who smiled slightly at him.

“I’ll be waiting,” he replied with a nod as the Beowolfmon left the house with his companions.

With their guests gone, the PileVolcamon turned to the mayor. “You…wanted to talk?”

The Blastmon nodded. “I…need your help.”


“So, this is the inn?”

Tiwaz was looking up at one of the few wooden buildings of the town. It had a red roof and two floors, judging from the placement of windows. It wasn’t too wide, which meant that it didn’t have a lot of rooms, which was reasonable when he considered how infrequent travellers came upon the town. It was a rather quaint little place, and it looked like it had some form of home that most inns usually lacked. He just hoped the place had good food.

“Once again, unhand me!” Cog demanded, his feet still not touching the ground due to Tiwaz holding him up in the air.

The EmperorGreymon looked at him accusingly. “Like hell I am,” he said as he followed the Golemon inside. “The moment I let go, I’m betting you’re going to run all the way back there,” he told the Wisemon.

“And that were a likely possibility, you are still not my keeper! I can choose what to do what I will, when I will!” Cog exclaimed, folding his arms and trying to look dignified despite the position he was in. And Tiwaz rolled his eyes. If anything, Cog was more like a pet.

As Tiwaz continued to deal with, Fenrir went to greet the lady receptionist at the desk where the Golemon butler waited. She was a large plump woman, her gender defined by the dress-like apron around her waist. She also had paws, purple and peach colored fur, and mole-like qualities, though she had a drill for a nose and claws. A Drimogemon.

“Oh, visitors! My name’s Rain, and I’m happy to welcome you at our inn! We haven’t had any of you in a long time, we haven’t!” she said, gleeful at having customers in her abode once more. “And straight from the mayor’s house too! We simply can’t let you stay in a simple old room, can we? I’ll let you have the suite! Though, it’s only has two beds, it has the comfiest couch you’ll ever sleep in, you will!” she rabbled on, rummaging through a desk to pick out the key for Fenrir to take.

“Thank you,” Fenrir said, taking the key before turning to the Golemon, nodding at him as well. He returned it before heading back to exit, nodding at Tiwaz and Cog as he passed them.

“What room number?” Tiwaz asked, already walking towards the stairs.

“Eight,” Fenrir told him as he lead the way.

“We’ll have some dinner out in a little while, yes, we will!” the lady Drimogemon called out to them as they climbed up the stairs. “I’ll have my hubbie call you down when it’s time,” she said as she waddled in the room behind the desk.

A few moments later, Tiwaz, Fenrir and Cogwej found themselves inside a room that was as appealingly-quaint as the inn itself. It had two twin beds, a wooden desk between them, one long couch, and small, round table at one side that had an oil-lamp on it. The floor had a simple red carpet, and there were three windows in total on two walls.

“It looks pretty comfortable,” Tiwaz observed, dropping Cogwej unceremoniously on the ground. Fenrir went over to sit on one of the beds, testing its softness and warmth.

The Wisemon pulled himself up to a sitting position, placing his hands over his stomach, which was grumbling and moaning its complaint. “I’m famished! I need sustenance!” he declared. Then he glared spitefully meaningfully at Tiwaz.

In exasperation, the dragon man sighed and shook his head. “You heard the lady; dinner is in a while. You can eat then,” he told him.

Feeling offended, Cog stood up and folded his arms. “Are you aware what kind of food they provision in establishments such as this? They would be serving me complete feculence compared to the kind of food they provided in the mayor’s household!”

Tiwaz folded his own arms and glared back. “Well, beggars can't be choosers, so deal with it, old timer,” he retorted back before turning to look at Fenrir. “Mutt, help me out here,” he called out.

Fenrir rolled his eyes. “We'll find you food tomorrow if you’re that adamant about it,” the wolfman said to the Wisemon, who balked.

“But I am dying of starvation at this very moment!” the cloaked Digimon announced. As if emphasizing his words, his stomach growled loudly.

Tiwaz rubbed the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tightly. He felt like he was dealing with a child rather than an old man. “Then suck it up and just go down and stomach the dinner the inn’s providing. It’s not like you’re paying for it since the mayor said he’d be paying for our accommodations, which I assume includes the food we’ll be eating,” he said, opening his eyes to look at said old man. “Besides, you had a whole pear earlier.”

In reply, Cogwej once again looked at him with frustration. He opened his mouth to once again start his tirade. “Did you not comprehend what I just previously stated? Food served at establishments such as this are-“

His rant was then cut off by someone knocking on their room door and the subsequent entrance of a familiar Gigasmon. “Excuse me, gents. My wife told me to call you down for din- oh, god, not you two again!”

Tiwaz had to slap his forehead, making Fenrir look at him inquisitively. “Just my luck,” he muttered to himself.

“It’s you!” Cogwej said, pointing at the Gigasmon in surprise. “The vendor that attempted to swindle my precious digits!” he accused.

“For the last time, I was not trying to cheat you!” the Gigasmon exclaimed loudly.

Den! Be nice and bring the good men down, or it’s the couch for you tonight!” the voice of the Drimogemon lady yelled, reaching up to their room and causing the Gigasmon named Den to cringe visible. He then turned over his shoulder.

“Yes, dear!” he replied with a slightly worried voice, causing Tiwaz’s eyebrow to rise.

“Well, apparently, it’s the wife that wears the pants in the family,” the dragonman said, folding his arms and grinning.

“Oh, what do you know?” the Gigasmon asked with a grunt and a slight embarrassed blush. “Now are any of you going to go down for dinner or not?” he asked, although he hoped that they weren’t. Especially the Wisemon that seems hell-bent on blaming him for something he didn’t do.

Fenrir shook his head in answer. Tiwaz folded his arms and thought about where he was hungry or not. Cogwej put his hands on his hips and faced away. “Ha! I am not falling for your wicked tricks again!” he declared.

Den rolled his eyes. “Whatever you-“


The Gigasmon winced at the voice of his wife once more, and then turned to look at Cog. “Look, old man, you’re not even paying for this, so why don’t you just be nice, forgive me, and go down for dinner before my wife decides to give me the boot,” he pleaded.

Cogwej made a scene of trying to think. “I don’t know,” he said, followed by the grumbling of his stomach, which caused the other three occupants to express their exasperation at him.

“We all know you’re hungry, Cog,” Tiwaz told him. “Just go down and eat already.”

“Hmm…will there be peaches?” the Wisemon asked, turning to the inn owner.

“Uh, I guess I can get so-“

“Well, why are delaying!? Let’s go!” Cog interrupted, his eyes gleaming as he rushed passed the Gigasmon, running down the stairs.

“Hey, no running!” Den yelled, running after him and ironically breaking his own rule.

Tiwaz couldn’t help but sigh. “I hope this relic business isn’t just some goose chase. Watching over the old geezer is taking years off of my life,” he muttered, plopping his behind on the couch. Fenrir simply gave a nod in reply, getting lost in his thoughts.

The room became pregnant with an awkward silence, at least in Tiwaz’s opinion. It made him nervous, or at the very least, restless. The dragon glanced at the quiet Beowolfmon. “So…” he started, causing the wolf digimon to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

Tiwaz gave himself a few moments to think before finally opening his maw. “Is your fancy sword getting the full treatment right now?” he asked as he set his own weapon down beside him, careful to avoid a position that would cause the Dragon Soul Sword to fall in a way that would harm him.

Fenrir gave a nod I reply, turning away again. “By the PileVolcamon from before,” he enlightened the EmperorGremon, knowing that explanations and introductions hadn’t really been properly made in the mayor’s house. It was difficult to when Cogwej was around.

“Right,” Tiwaz replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

Fenrir’s lack of need to continue the conversation or grace him with a reply caused yet another silence to ensue. Disturbed by it, Tiwaz stood up, feeling himself get restless. He started pacing around before turning to Fenrir once more.

“So…I guess you’re not a complete amateur when it comes to fighting,” Tiwaz once again started, willing himself to stop pacing. “Have you been at it for a while?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. He was sincerely curious about that, at least. He didn’t find fighters that could match him often.

The Beowolfmon’s only reply was to nod, bringing his legs up on the bed.

I feel like I’m talking with a wall! What does it take to get this mutt to actually talk?’ he wondered to himself with a small frown. “Military? Knight errant? What?” he asked, folding his arm in slight annoyance.

Fenrir sighed, feeling the same annoyance at being prodded with so many questions about himself. “Been…training since childhood,” he answered, hoping that it would appease the EmperorGreymon enough to get him to stop talking.

“Yeah? Me too,” Tiwaz replied, feeling slightly surprised to find that he had something in common with the Digimon in front of him that seemed like his complete opposite. And then Fenrir nodded again in reply. Before another bout of silence could start, Tiwaz asked, “Any particular reason?”

The Beowolfmon glanced at Tiwaz, his irritation showing in his eyes, but after a while, he answered. “…Family…” was all he said.

Tiwaz blinked. “Yeah? Did they want you in on a family business or something?” he asked, stepping a bit closer to the wolfman whose voice was beginning to lower with each reply.

Fenrir shook his head. “It’s…complicated,” he decided to say.

“Well, I’ve got nothing but time,” Tiwaz told him, already standing in front of him.

Instead of explaining, Fenrir looked away.

Tiwaz rolled his eyes, giving a dismissive wave. “Well, me and my best friend used to dream being in the military. I wanted to be just like my dad,” he said, grinning and folding his arms in pride. Then the grin fell. “Except, well, without the getting blinded part,” he said with a bit of sheepishness.

This caused Fenrir to think a bit. Men enlisted in armies don’t usually get to go gallivanting the lands, doing whatever they wanted, like helping an old and possible crazy man on a journey to collect a set of ten relics. Against his better judgment, he asked, “…you didn’t get in?”

The dragonman gave a hearty laugh. “If course we did! It just-“

He abruptly stopped, the smile he had on his face just a moment ago disappearing. His facial features began to darken, and he had to face away. “…wasn’t how I thought it would be,” he finished for himself. “Long story short, I left and never looked back.”

Fenrir’s ear twitched, hearing the undercurrent of anger in his voice. And under that was a tone of sadness that he was very familiar with. “…and your friend?” Fenrir couldn’t help but ask. He wasn’t even sure what possessed him to ask it in the first place.

For once, however, Tiwaz seemed to not want to answer him. In fact, the dragon man seemed to be trying to avoid changing his expression by making it as serious as possible, although his hands seemed to betray him by going up to meaninglessly readjust his goggles. He then glanced at Fenrir, looking surprisingly defensive. “If you don’t want to tell me about yourself, why should I tell you about myself?” he asked accusingly.

Fenrir had to roll his eyes. Still, he understood the feeling of not wanting to talk about the past. He didn’t say anything and just looked away, and Tiwaz went back to the couch to sit, apparently feeling a bit less active than before. He kept on glancing back at the Beowolfmon however…and Fenrir could sense it.

He sighed audibly. “Yes, Tiwaz?” he asked out loud, knowing that the EmperorGreymon was all too eager to avoid the apparent silence that had fallen on the room once more.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Tiwaz started, smiling a bit. Looks like there was hope for the Beowolfmon yet. “Why are you helping Cog, Fenrir? I mean, what’s in it for you?” he prodded, trying to lock eyes with the wolf man. “No offense, but you don’t exactly seem like the guy to help some random – and psychotic – stranger out of the goodness of your heart,” he told him.

Fenrir stayed silent, although he could already feel his walls coming up. He didn’t bother trying to put them down. “I can ask the same about you,” he replied in a level tone, not looking back at Tiwaz.

The dragon Digimon folded his arms stubbornly. “I asked you first,” he said.

“It’s…none of your business,” Fenrir replied, looking away and at a window.

Tiwaz made an audible sound of annoyance. “Is he promising you digits?” he asked. “The geezer can’t even afford a peach.”

Fenrir closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I am not that shallow.”

The dragon man raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity. “What then?” he urged. And then he blinked.

“Wait, maybe it’s one of those Spirit things that you want. Cog did say that they were artifacts of great power or something,” he started, but then he raised an eyebrow. “But you saw how one of them almost burned you and me alive…”

He stood back up and stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the Beowolfmon who stayed silent.

“Is that yes?” Tiwaz asked.


The EmperorGreymon raised an eyebrow. “So it’s power you want, is it?” he asked almost disbelief. “You almost bested me in a fist fight; do you really need it?” he inquired, hands on his hips.

Fenrir didn’t bother looking back at him. “My reasons for helping Cogwej in this endeavor are mine and mine alone, Tiwaz,” he finally said, his patience finally reaching its limit. “You would do well to stay out of my business, especially in this case.”

Tiwaz narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat?”

The Beowolfmon had to roll his eyes. “Make whatever you want out of it as long as you heed my words,” he told the inquisitive dragon. Then he lied down on his bed and closed them, trying to tell Tiwaz that this conversation was done and over with.

Tiwaz scoffed and walked back over to the couch. “Unlike some selfish people, I’m helping you two out of the goodness of my heart. All I ask in return is enough to feed myself,” he said as he sat down. “I think if you have the power like I do, you ought to use it to help people and make the world a better place,” he finished with a huff as he looked away.

Whether the world deserves it or not,’ he thought to himself.

Fenrir seemed to have not listened to him by the lack of reply, until he opened his mouth. “…Everyone’s selfish…” he said, his voice barely audible to the dragon man’s ears.

Tiwaz turned to him, a bit taken aback. “Just because you are doesn’t mean everyone is,” he said defensively. “Or is that what you tell yourself to help justify that part of you?”

And then Fenrir opened his eyes and looked straight into Tiwaz’s gaze, letting his wall down just for that one moment and showing the dragon man just how much hidden darkness he had smoldering inside of him. “Everyone, no exception, is selfish. And the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be,” he said in a dark and deep tone before looking back up at the ceiling, burning a hole through it with his glare.

It was then that it struck Tiwaz that the Beowolfmon truly believed what he said. And he stared at him for several moments until he was able to recollect himself. “What happened to you to make you so cynical?”

Fenrir grit his teeth. He wondered if the dragonman had no boundaries at all; he seemed so hypocritical, seeing as he didn’t even want to talk about his own self. He then sighed and closed his eyes, whispering in a tone too low for Tiwaz to hear, “…You don’t want to know.”

At no audible reply, Tiwaz exhaled, taking off his goggles and looking down at them. “…Even though many are, not everyone’s selfish,” he started, glancing up at the wolf. “What about the people who would give most of their possessions to the needy? Or the people who would throw themselves in front of an attack to protect their best friend? Do you think they’re selfish?”

Fenrir turned his head slightly away. “…Yes…I do,” he answered in a level tone.

Tiwaz sneered at him, clenching his fist. “And I think you’re full of shit,” he declared, glaring.

The Beowolfmon didn’t bother replying, or even looking back, at the EmperorGreymon. Arguing would get them nowhere.

Tiwaz looked away and carefully put his goggles on the table by the couch. “I’m going to sleep,” he announced, lying down in a way that his back was facing the Beowolfmon.

The other occupant of the room simply stayed silent, trying to let the darkness come over him once more for a night’s rest. But he did think of one thing.

The only thing in me…is a past that I’d rather forget.
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No. 1 Grovyle Fan
That was a good chapter...er, act... whatever. We got to see a bit more insight into Tiwaz and Fenrir. Not too much, but enough to pique one's interest (except I already know Tiwaz's, obviously. =P)

You did a good job with Pav, I think. I like him and his characterization seems fine so far. We'll have to see how it goes in the next chapter. Cog's as amusing as ever. And I see you've solidified his obsession with peaches. I also like the idea of a Blastmon having an Armadillomon daughter. xD

The descriptions are consistantly good, as are the characterizations. I like the description on how Bakhu operates. However, I'm still adamant on the fact of them mining Fanglongmon Ore/Chrondigizoit as well as gems and stuff, though. =P

The EmperorGreymon raised an eyebrow. “So it’s power you want, is it?” he asked almost disbelief. “You almost me in a fist fight; do you really need it?” he inquired, hands on his hips.
"in almost" or ", almost in"

Also "almost bested me"

Fenrir didn’t bother looking back at , him.

Uhh... Not sure what else to say here. There was more Tiwaz/Fenrir tension, but that's hardly a surprise. xD And we see Fenrir's motivations... sort of. Anyways, it was a good read, even though it was considerably tamer than the other chapters in terms of action, though that's not necessarily a bad thing. I look forward to the next one.