Update!

Good morning everyone!

I am just putting up a brief update to let you all know I am still alive, I have been rather ill for the past few days. It's been putting off my writing (not to mention my train of thought altogether), but as I'm recovering, content will start to pour out on a more frequent basis. And, I have been working on a new project (aside from Wolf of the West and Ranger of the North) that I intend to share with everyone as soon as possible.

Well, that's it for now. Hopefully the next post will be more content, and hopefully it will be soon!

Wolf of the West, Chapter 5, Part 2

“They’re waiting in there.” Chircter points to a small house; much more a shelter, if anything. Unlike the live, bustling streets during the daytime, the city is as quiet and lifeless as the docks. The vending stalls are empty, their merchants having packed their wares and left.

As Ryuden follows Chircter and Yanna towards the rendezvous, he looks down at his attire. Aside from the smell of time -- a mixture of countless aromas and odors -- heavy on the clothing, the garb is comfortable. Underneath the coat of black and crimson, a grey shirt clings to his form, yet proves limitless in flexibility. On the shoulder of his coat resides a patch; a feather of pure black reflecting the moonlight off its sleek surface.

“Wait here,” orders Chircter. He looks over his shoulder at Ryuden and Yanna. “Don’t want any accidents. They’re probably getting uneasy, having to wait for so long.” Pushing open the door slowly, Chircter slips inside the house.

As a few moments of silence pass, Ryuden grows wary. The silence is palpable, as if the entire world is holding its breath in anticipation of the pending. “Is it always this quiet?” he asks Yanna.

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Yanna clasps his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s understandable to be nervous on your first night with us. Never done something like this before?”

“Something like this,” yes.”

“What did you do?” She raises a brow. “Jump a traveler?”

“Something like that.” Shrugging off Yanna’s hand, Ryuden chooses not to push the discussion further in that direction.

“Let’s not waste time,” Chircter prompts, returning onto the streets. Following after him are three others of various forms; the first tall, the second bulky, the last frail.

“Who is he?” the tall one asks, disgust resounding in her voice. “When did we stoop so low, as to accept common riff-raff with knives into our fold?”

“Easy, sister,” the thin one says. “We do not know much of him,” he explains, gesturing to Ryuden. “Don’t tread down a path barefoot, just because the dirt looks soft.”

“I recognize the face,” the bulky one states. “Sorry for roughin’ you up before, lad, but business is business. Nothin’ personal. Anyways, I doubt he’ll be any hindrance to our plan, sister. Leave ‘im be.”

The tall woman folds her arms over her chest, shaking her head. “We’ll deal with this… issue later. We mustn’t delay the mission any further.”

“Then let us go over the plan once more, so we all know our roles.” Chircter points towards the silhouette of the spire against the moonlight. “There, the Onerian marshal is waiting to meet with the governor of Onat. Our client has informed me that the marshal intends to insert a new law enforcement policy into effect. It would permit officials to search private warehouses and transportation vessels without need of warrants or intervention on a higher level. This would essential sever the head of our underground network, since there is rarely a coin we’ve made that didn’t originate from smuggling. Needless to say, this policy must never reach the light of day.”

“How do we intend to stop it?” Ryuden asks. Undeniably, part of him is nervous. But, the excitement to apply his prowess for such a great impact easily overpowers his lesser demons.

“With cunning.” Chircter nods to the trio. “You three will deal with intercepting the governor and his escort. Yanna, you’ll be dealing with the Marshal. Take Ryuden with you, in my place.”

The trio of still-strangers depart down the street, the way Chircter had lead Ryuden and Yanna.

“Follow me.” Yanna leads Ryuden into the labyrinth of alleyways and substreets. After several moments of weaving through the countless twists and turns, she stops and turns around, showing Ryuden a frown.

“What is it?” Ryuden asks. Her unease makes his own doubled over.

“Not, it’s probably nothing. We’re near the tower, we just have to ascend, take care of business, and leave.” Yanna continues on, Ryuden in tow. She seems unphased by the stone colossus spiraling into the dark heavens when they finally leave the narrow passageways. Stepping into the open square, Ryuden stares up at it in awe, until Yanna tugs on his shoulder to garner his focus again. She reaches a pair of tall, oak doors leading inside. Pulling one of the doors open slowly, she peers in through the crack. “Stay quiet,” she whispers, “we want to get the drop--”

“On me?” a new voice says.

As Yanna whirls around to face the speaker, Ryuden draws his blade. He turns around to find guards pouring out of the surrounding buildings, blocking any obvious escape route.

Amidst the horde, a man pushes his way through, his offhand resting one the hilt of a concealed weapon. His sage cloak billows behind him, the golden embroiderment glistening in the moonlight. “Did you really think you would just slip by and cut my throat?” he asks, tapping his foot on the ground. In his hand is a piece of parchment. He grins, lifting it up for Ryuden and Yanna to see.  “Looking for this?” When no answer surfaces, he chuckles. “It has been a while since I’ve been involved with your line of work.”

“Sepon,” Yanna murmurs. Her quiet, fragile voice betrays sudden shift from confidence to a lackthereof.

Ryuden’s heart sinks.

“Yanna,” the man -- Sepon -- responds. Leaving the protection of his swarm of guards, he approaches Yanna, not paying any mind to Ryuden. He takes Yanna’s chin in his palm, forcing her to look up at him. “It warms my heart to know you have not forgotten my name.”

“Your name is that of a dead man.” Yanna shakes off his hand, looking away. “He fought to the last breath.”

“So you try to replace that man?” Sepon glances at Ryuden. “How cute. You even let him soil my clothes.”

“That’s enough out of you!” Yanna shouts, as she plunges her blade for Sepon’s torso. But, with a quick grapple of her wrist, Sepon forces her arm up and kicks his boot into her exposed side. As Yanna crumples to the ground, she gives a faint whimper.

Taking the opportunity, Ryuden leaps into action. His sword arcs downward, seeking to sink into flesh. It meets steel first, however; Sepon’s cutlass catching his attempt. Not wasting a second, Ryuden brings his body forward, his shoulder bashing into Sepon’s torso. The sudden force of one of the guards tackling him off his feet and to the ground knocks the wind out of his lungs. The struggle to breathe mingles with the sudden flurry of bludgeon blows barraging his limp body. The onslaught seems to go on forever, until it is finally stopped by voices shouting, and steel clashing.

“Get up!” Yanna pulls Ryuden onto his feet. She glances at his face, and grimaces. Supporting his body weight, she leads him into the tower. “You fool,” she mutters sorely, ignoring her own pain as she sets him upright against a wall.

“I’m the fool?” Ryuden croaks, not daring to move a muscle. Regardless, his body is wracked with pain. He watches Yanna close the doors, sliding a wooden latch to lock them in place. “I’m the fool for doing what you would have done? For doing our mission?” When Yanna does not reply, Ryuden continues. “What does he mean to you?”

“More than you can fathom, you blighted idiot!” Yanna snaps. “He is how we became who we are. He is why the Night Ravens are united, and why we do things the way we do. He is… he is the reason we all are leaders.” She kneels beside Ryuden. “I could not bring myself to destroy the husk of a great man.” Pulling a cloth from her pocket, she brings it to Ryuden’s face.

Frowning, Ryuden realizes how he can barely notice the sensation of blood pouring down his face. He probably would not have noticed if his crimson did not soil the virgin cloth. “I’m not faring well.”

“And I’m no liar. It’ll take a bit to fix you up.” Glancing over to the door, Yanna gets up. “A lot more than what I can offer alone. I’m going to join the others in the fray, and we’ll get you home when we shake them off.” Drawing his blades once more, she moves the latch and opens the doors. The sounds of the battlefield rush into the room as she rushes out, mitigated by the doors no longer.

His ears now audience to the sound of men shouting, steel clashing, flesh tearing and bone breaking, Ryuden is left in his agony. His attempts to stand up are countered by his body’s inability to do so. He would just have to sit and pray for Yanna’s triumph. Time passes by, and his eyelids grow heavy. The sounds of battle slowly die down, as he slips past the brink of consciousness.

***

“It isn’t mine!” snarls Ryuden. His back flush against the scarred trunk of a tree, he looks for some break in the ring of ‘brothers’ surrounding him. Tightening the grip on his blade, he readies himself for the impending death sentence.

“If it isn’t yours, then why did it rest if you?” Kelyn glares at Ryuden with scorn unhindered by blood. Taking a step closer than the rest, he only stops when the tip of Ryuden’s blade is just short of him. “Who is Valuda, Ryuden?”

Wolf of the West, Chapter 5, Part 1

“Again.”

The ringing of steel clashing against steel follows in succession of labored grunts. The light of day gives a shiny sheen to the sweat dripping down Ryuden’s face. His body grows more tired with each passing moment. As he circles Yanna, he tightens his grip on the familiar blade in his hands. He watches her stepping, waiting for an opening in her guard.

“You’re getting better,” says Yanna, a smug expression on her face. The confidence enveloping her is hauntingly irritating. “Maybe you’ll catch up to me, someday.”

“And if some day is today?” Lunging forth, Ryuden brings his sword upward in an uppercut motion. As Yanna parries with one of her two, he lets his body come forward, compensating for a loss of his balance with an advancing step. He brings his blade back, quickly countering Yanna’s attempt to bring her other blade up. Ryuden’s free hand grips Yanna’s wrist to keep the other blade from meeting his skin, and he meets Yanna’s focused eyes.

Then, Yanna hooks a leg around Ryuden’s, and pushes forth enough to knock him down. Her blades rush towards his throat, but stop with barely a gap between flesh and steel. “Not today,” she muses, before she pulls her blades away. She sheaths them at her hips and offers him a hand. “But, I’m impressed. You’re not as poor in swordplay as I had figured.”

Pulled up onto his feet, Ryuden sheaths his weapon, and dusts himself off, freeing him of loose dirt and leaves. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“So I see. Well, it’s time to put that practice into play.” Yanna leans against the thick trunk of a tall oak. “However, this job is a big one. Carry your weight, and not only will you survive, you will show the others that you can keep up.”

“The others?” Ryuden raises a brow. “Where have they been?”

“Right here.”

Twisting around, Ryuden’s eyes meet those of a stranger, a man who folds his arms over his chest. Despite his lack of lethal means, even being near the man is enough to make Ryuden a little uneasy.

“Don’t worry,” the man says with a warm grin, “had I wished to kill you, I would have done so the moment I returned. The rest of us are waiting at the rendezvous in the Shattered Spire, when you two are ready.” He takes a step closer to Ryuden, extending a hand. “You can call me Chircter, and I’m sure you’re well acquainted with our thorned rose, Yanna.”

“Ryuden.” Keeping his hands at his sides, Ryuden stares Chircter in the eyes. The way this man carries himself, his passive attitude, his seemingly open attitude, the blatancy; if forces Ryuden to compare him with Kelyn.

And makes Ryuden despise him.

“Have you already explained the plan, Yanna?” Chircter asks.

Yanna shakes her head. “I was just getting to it before you arrived.”

“That’s fine. It gives me to the opportunity to review everything with the others.” Chircter steps away from Ryuden, looking over to Yanna. “You may want to get a set of armor for Ryuden, it’ll make it easier for the rest not to butcher him by mistake.”

With a nod, Yanna heads towards the outpost.

“She’s one of the best,” Chircter says, turning his focus back to Ryuden. “I’m sure you’re more than ready for the job, if she’s willing to take you in under her wing.” When Ryuden says nothing in turn, he chuckles, looking down at the ground -- balded from countless hours of vigorous sparring. “The strong, silent type, right? I remember someone of that caliber in your place before.” Approaching Ryuden again, Chircter  lowers his voice. “The one thing about the strong and silent is that they are never heard when they cry for help.”

“Neither can they hear the pleas of others.”

Grinning, Chircter takes a step back. “So, you’re a man of more than just one word, after all. What has Yanna explained to you as far as our code goes?”

“Nothing.”

“I see. Well, there are three things you must adhere to.” Chircter raises three fingers, as if to help Ryuden keep count. “We don’t trade the blood of our brethren. We do not let our hearts steer our blade.”

“And the third?” asks Ryuden.

With a chuckle, Chircter looks past Ryuden. “Yanna, do you have his garb?”

“There is a problem with that,” Yanna says, a bundle tucked under her arm. “Our nightsilk stores are depleted.”

“Empty?” Chircter frowns, his lips curving in a way that amuses Ryuden. “I fail to understand. How do we go through our entire store so quickly? What if we need to mend our armor?”

“That is a matter to tend to after the contract is over with.” Yanna offers a simple shrug, before offering Ryuden the bundle. “This belonged to one of our order, before…” She clears her throat. “I think it will fit you.”

“Yanna!” Chircter steps in between her and Ryuden. “We both know better than to give him those--”

“Why? Because pride outweighs necessity?”

“No,” Chircter replies. “Because it is bad luck.”

“Luck?” Yanna glares at him, the warm, tender veil over her calloused attitude lifted. “What place does superstition have amongst cutthroats who feign honor? Especially one who shifted loyalty with the clink of a coin?” Earning Chircter’s silence, she walks past him, regaining her composure before offering Ryuden the bundle. “Take this, we’ll set off when you are ready.”

Minor Update

Hey everyone! I just wanted to apologize for these lengthy amounts of time in between each continuation of the piece. Not only does it have to do with things such as school, sports and get my daily fill of social interaction, but it is also my writing process. You see, I physically write everything down on lined paper. Everything. In fact, I always have a pencil and paper at hand for when an idea comes into mind. It takes a while to write down something to the length of this update and comb it over for obvious errors. Then, I have to type everything down, while checking it for further grammatical errors, spelling errors, things I need to rephrase, logical errors (i.e. saying  the protagonist is in Uskbight, but it's hot and sunny), and even omitting pages of work that I found redundant towards the plot of the story. But, I'm determined to keep posting onto this blog, and I will bring more content as I create it.

TL;DR - Sorry for slacking on the post dates, life's hard, writing's hard, sob sob, I'll put up more content as I deem it available to share.

Wolf of the West, Chapter 4, Part 2

Warmth tickles Ryuden’s cheek as his eyes open. No longer in the destroyed inn, his eyes adjust to the dim, grey glow of crystals placed in torch sconces lining the walls. There are no other furnishings in the room, spare the bed he lays on. A single door -- the only way out -- is made of wood as black as night, spare a grey feather painted into it; some kind of emblem.

The door swings open, and through it comes the blonde woman -- Yanna. “I trust you slept well?” she asks. “I know the accommodations aren’t quite that comfortable.”

“You’re smarter than you look.” Ryuden sits up at the edge of the bed. “Had you not disarmed me, I would have put an end to you this conversation already.” He glares at Yanna, his fists clenched.

“Easy, easy.” Yanna raises her hands with an innocent expression. “If you do that, you’d kill the woman who saved your life twice.”

“Twice?”

“You think my companions wanted to keep you alive?” Yanna closes the door, taking a few steps closer to Ryuden. “You single handedly cost us one of our most frequent employees. I convinced them to not feed you to the dogs. You could at least show a little gratitude.”

“For kidnapping me? Knocking me out cold? Nearly strangling me to death?”

Yanna chuckles softly. “For realizing what you can be.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, she observes the crystals. “Tell me; why did you kill that man in Oner? Was is for coin?”

“I have my own reasons.”

“Don’t play games. You had not the slightest idea where you were the night prior, and you suddenly hunt him down and murder him. And, I take it you were told to by the innkeep.”

Quiet for a moment, Ryuden stares at Yanna. She is pressing her luck. “Information.”

“Much better.” Yanna smiles, standing up. “I have… a proposition for you.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“I bet it does.”

“What do you want?”

“I won’t talk circles around you.” Yanna looks at Ryuden. “You have such potential, that killing you would have just been a waste for both of us. I want you to grow with us, to become a Night Raven.”

“Night Raven?”

“We are a ring of assassins,” says Yanna, running her fingers over one of the light crystals. “We have a few rules and regulations, yes, but we take contracts and kill just like any other individual in this line of our work.”

“Why train with you?” Ryuden stands up, approaching her with an unmoved frown. “You left me with barely any clue of my whereabouts--”

“-- which you were able to cope with --”

“ -- and came back strangling me --”

“-- which you survived. Listen, you don’t understand what you’ve done.” Yanna stands up, in front of Ryuden. “You killed a kingpin in the guthryl trade, along with his wife and cousin. A score of dealers and producers want your throat to sheathe their knives, and they would have their way if not for us taking you in.”

“They’d more than welcome to try,” Ryuden retorts. “You wanted me to join your ring, the Night Ravens?”

Yanna nods. “We give you the tools and talents necessary for this profession, and in return for your contribution--”

“I care more of my freedom than coin,” Ryuden interjects. “Tell me what price could justify being put under another’s rules.”

Biting her lip, Yanna takes a step back, sinking in thought. She starts to slowly pace back and forth around the room. “You wanted information, correct? We can get information. We know people who let not one uttered word be forgotten.”

“I would have had what I needed, if you didn’t kill --”

“You killed our client as well. We both lost out on something important.”

“And that is?”

“None of your concern.” Yanna runs her fingers over the legacy of seared flesh on her palm. “Are you going to join us or not?”

Ryuden is silent for a moment. As it stands, her offer is the only one that can lead him back to the others from Uskbight. And, perhaps after she gives him the information, he could just desert them. Sighing softly, he gives Yanna a reluctant nod. “I want all the information you can find --”

“Not so fast,” Yanna says. “I require you do two things, first.”

Ryuden frowns.

“They’re simple necessities if you’re going to join us. I need your name.”

“Ryuden.”

“Interesting.. that sounds like an Ar’taian name.”

“What makes you stay that?”

Yanna gives a light shrug. “I used to study Ar’taian culture. They’re an interesting civilization, despite their infamy as horrid slavers. That aside, you will have your chance to prove yourself to the others soon.”

Ryuden raises a brow. “How so?”

“We’ll need as much help as we can for an upcoming assignment. Come, let’s see how well trained you are.” She opens the door, leading Ryuden up a narrow stairwell. The walls and floor imitate the dull features of the first room.

“This is the home of a group of assassins?” asks Ryuden as he follows Yanna further up. The breeze of cool air flows by him as they reach the top.

“A facade,” Yanna explains. “We don’t want to have the lawmen raising too much suspicion over an abandoned outpost.” She stops at a large, wooden door. She opens the door, revealing a room without light. Leaving the doorway, she slips into the pitch darkness.

Following her, Ryuden stops as the door closes behind him. He frowns as his visual perception is all but stolen from him. “What is this?” he asks, trying to feel his way through.

“You were sly, using the darkness of night to keep hidden before,” says Yanna, seemingly from everywhere. “The shadows are your allies, your weapons, your armor. But, they are not yours alone.” Yanna is quiet for a moment, before her voice comes from right beside Ryuden. “You’re just as vulnerable as your targets are, should you not learn to discern the denizens of the shadows.”

As Ryuden whirls to face Yanna, a shove from behind sends him staggering forth. “How am I supposed to do so?” he asks, recuperating his balance.

“The answer is rather clear.” Yanna’s voice echoes from near and far. “You’ll either find out how to function without sight, or I’ll have to start actually beating you.” She giggles as Ryuden is sent backwards by another push. “It’s up to you how long this training lasts, be it from mere moments to hours.”

Ryuden manages not to fall over, listening past her words. They are but a clever disguise to her true position. He focuses until he can hear his own heart pumping blood through his veins…

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.. thump.

The third beat is not of the heart. It is a footstep, as quiet as snowflakes hitting the ground. And, it is coming f--

A hard shove to the side knocks Ryuden onto the ground.

“Come on now, Ryuden; think faster!” Yanna’s order holds onto the slightest hint of genuine encouragement.

Picking himself off the ground, Ryuden listens for the unnatural thump again.

… Thump-thump, thump.

Behind him.

Whirling around and grasping forth, Ryuden grips tightly on Yanna’s shoulders, squeezing them with an iron grip. “This ‘training’ is over,” he states, shoving her away. As a door opens, light floods into the empty chamber, and Yanna clasps Ryuden’s shoulder.

“Pretty good, for fresh blood,” she comments, walking across the chamber. “You’ll need more work, but I have a feeling you’re well on your way.” Another set of doors await her. The quality of the outpost may be poor, but it seems endless in size. “Are you ready for your next test?”

Ryuden nods. “Where do we begin?”

Wolf of the West, Chapter 4, Part 1

The glow of dawn’s light warms the bones of a tired Ryuden and his horse. It illuminates the familiar landscape near the settlement’s inn, and dissolves the thick shadows trying to pour out from the forest. The chirping of birds coexists with the rhythmic pounding of the horse’s hooves against the dirt road.

While physically there, Ryuden is elsewhere entirely in thought. The question left unanswered from the night before caught him off guard. He has butchered countless people, but it has always been in the name of his own survival. Surely, either he had to die, or they had to, right? He did as he was ordered to. And, if he had not killed the couple, they would have alerted his target, and he would have lost the opportunity for information. With the inn in sight, Ryuden spurs the horse in his impatience.

Despite it being early morning, nobody is outside. A lone crow greets Ryuden, perched atop the inn.

Dismounting the horse, Ryuden approaches the inn. Reaching to open the door, he stops his hand from touching the handle at the last second. The door is open, already. Pushing it open wider, he tenses at an alarming scene; broken glasses, toppled tables, and the half burnt logs of a fire are scattered about.

Drawing his dagger, Ryuden approaches the bar. His frown only deepens when he finds the innkeep. There he lay, face down and motionless. Climbing over the bar, Ryuden kneels down to examine the body. Though the back shows no signs of injury, a large gash through the throat is revealed when the body is flipped over. “Siyerrod plagues me,” mutters Ryuden. There lays his chance, dead on the floor. He closes his eyes, fists clenched.

Someone clears their throat.

Whirling around and standing up, Ryuden feels a hand grip him by the throat. His feet leave the ground, and his body is pinned against a wall. His dagger having slipped out of clutch from the sudden attack, Ryuden swings his fists frantically at his attack. Though his blows land over and over, they only serve to anger his attacker, who makes it impossible to breathe.

“Let him go,” a familiar voice says.

“Why should I?” asks the attacker. “Could be another Inquisitor--”

“An Inquisitor who comes alone, and ill-prepared?”

Ryuden pries the hand at his throat to grant himself more air. When he is released completely, he slumps to the floor. Air rushes into his lungs as he makes no effort to retaliate to his attackers. Though in sight, his dagger is well beyond his reach.

“Well, it seems we were destined to meet again,” the familiar voice says. The blonde woman from before kneels next to Ryuden, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I apologize for the rude greeting. We were waiting for the lucky man who slaughtered one of my clients. Would you happen to know where he is?”

Ryuden says nothing, trying to regulate his breathing.

“You say he’s right in front of me? Why… that must put you to blame, then.” Taking her hand away, she presses cold steel against Ryuden’s throat. “The Ravens of Night have a very… vague rule when it comes to stealing or ruining a contract. It says the wrongdoer must be punished, but does not specify the punishment. I could part open your throat, or slap you across the face.” Smirking, she pulls her knife away. “I have a much better idea, however.” The woman stands up, picking Ryuden’s dagger off the ground. “You may call me Yanna.” She motions to the quiet, bulky figure who attacked Ryuden.

The figure looms over Ryuden for a moment, and -- without warning -- strikes him over the head.

***

“What’s the matter?” Kelyn asks, standing behind Ryuden .You think it’s over? That the Wolves have perished?”

“An army came in and killed off nearly all of our people.” Ryuden folds his arms over his chest, giving a nod towards the bandits huddled around a campfire. Even under the heat of flames, the snow barely melts around them. “Those who did escape are hopeless for sanctuary now.”

“You are looking at it from the wrong angle, son.” Kelyn places a hand on Ryuden’s shoulder, unphased by the old. “We were -- are, group of warriors that could only be stopped by an entire army coming down on them. Do you know what that means? We can rebuild, and once we are stronger than before, no physical force in the world can stop us. It is time for a new home, wouldn’t you agree?”

Raising a brow, Ryuden looks at Kelyn. “Where would you propose we go?”

Kelyn scratches his beard. “We ought to find one of them forts in Oner. We’ll take one over.”

“The Onerian Army isn’t that weak.”

“They are if their forces are too engaged in their war with Omem.” Kelyn leaves Ryuden, heading towards the campfire. “Listen up, you cattle-tongued fiends! We leave Uskbight by dawn. The Wolves of the West will find a new den, and grow stronger than before. We were forged in the crucible of ice and death, now let us share this might with the world!”

Ryuden sits back against a tree, listening to the cheers amongst the survivors. They would grow stronger, as they had before. Back when the ‘Wolves of the West’ was one man and his innocent boy.

More Wolf of the West on the way!

Good morning!

I can't go into much detail, but due to some conflicts, I had to halt progress on Wolf of the West. But, after dealing with the issue, I can continue the dark story of Ryuden. I should have the next chapter up by tomorrow evening, so stay tuned!