The Wolf's Dominion

By Billy Easley II

Sunday, January 8th, 2006

The work was hard. The pay was low. There was one major upside about it though.

"The kill." Calnus put his pencil down when the hunter finished his statement, and looked over his glasses at him with a disconcerting stare. The hunter barely noticed, instead he chose to take another swig of the drink the scholar had decided to buy him. The drink was, after all the only reason why he had decided to talk to the boy.

The bar was not as rowdy as it usually was at this hour of the night. Most of the men had gone to war at the Council's "request" unless, of course, the men had enough money to pay them off. Those men of wealth rarely decided to venture outside of their realms of luxury and visit a lowly bar like the Gun's Barrel.

This scholar, Calnus, was an exception. The bar was a seedy place, so far as to perhaps be called the definition of the word. It stank heavily of cigarettes and liquor. The smell was to such an overwhelming degree that the hunter was fascinated that the scholar had decided to wait for him. Of course, his face was contorted slightly, as was to be expected from a boy of noble birth to do if he was around such a place. The Gun's Barrel was not a place for nobility. The hunter was surprised by the fact that the boy managed to find his way to the bar. To be precise, he was surprised by the fact that he was able to find his way to bar in one piece or not tied to a rope and held for ransom. Nothing surprised the hunter anymore, so it was quite a feat for the hunter to raise his eyebrows in surprise at anything.

The second he had come inside the bar, he had told Calnus about his last mission, in which he had tracked down and killed a group of six werewolves, with the help of his companions of course, three of which had died in the attack.

"Did anyone get bitten?" Calnus asked after the hunter had explained the details of his mission. The hunter took another swig of his beer and stared at the gun hanging on the wall. It was a rifle, decorated with an ornate design. Guns were a rare find in the Creedmore, so it wouldn't be too uncommon for a bar to be named after it.

"E-Excuse me, sir," Calnus asked, "did you hear-"
"I heard your question, and the answer, is yes."

"Well, what happened to him?"

The hunter sighed, "He begged for us to spare his life, and we killed him."

"Did you kill him?"

"We have specific ways in which we handle things." The hunter answered, as he stared into his brew. "If a man doesn't die after being bitten, we all shoot them or, when there are no bullets, which is often the case, we all draw our swords, and stab them to death."

"What if you were bitten?"

"What if I was?" He replied gruffly, "What difference would it make? I'd expect the same thing to happen."

Calnus breathed deeply, and was silent for a time, and then shook his head before he spoke.

"Are you that afraid to become that which you hunt?"

"Afraid?" The hunter laughed heartily, and Calnus eyed him curiously at his strange reaction, "Son, we're afraid to become something so evil and hideous as those demons."

"Have you ever thought the Council is simply using you hunters as a tool for their own purposes?" Calnus asked.

This time the hunter started chuckling and didn't stop for a good long time. He slapped his hands against his legs and shook his head. He almost looked as if he was going to cry. Calnus was a bit insulted. It was valid question. It was no secret that the Council had been using werewolves as scapegoats for their problems just to draw attention away from the war. It was common knowledge, and the hunter knew it as well.

"You think most of us care about that? We just want to kill them. That's all, and if we get payed for it," The hunter looked directly at Calnus as he continued and flashed a large smile, "well, how can we argue with that?"

A few moments passed, and Calnus slapped a few copper coins on the bar before standing up.

"I think I've got all the information I need, sir, thank you very much for speaking to me for my project." After that, Calnus stood up, grabbed his coat from the chair and began to walk out of the bar.

"Wait a second," the hunter said, Calnus stopped, and turned around. "Don't you ask your "subject" what his name is? I thought that was the first thing you do in an interview?"

Calnus shrugged, "I forgot. So, what's your name sir?"

"Regal is what they call me."

"Who are they?" The hunter smiled at the question, obviously pleased at the fact that it was asked.

"The ones I hunt. The Silver Regal is what they call me, because of my sword."

"I seeā€¦that's certainly interesting."

Calnus thanked him once more for talking to him, and left the bar. The hunter called Regal continued to drink his beer, and stayed in the bar for as long as the bartender would allow before he decided to leave. He walked out on the empty streets of the city and began to walk into the night, searching for another job. He knew he would find it. The world always needed killers.

Author's Note: See a load of mistakes here? See something that makes you totally say "he didn't look this over before submitting it?" Read the author's note on Chapter 2 for an explanation. Don't be afraid to notify me of my mistakes though, I might've made them even if I wasn't tired. Idid both these Chaps. at the same time, but decided this was a good place to cut them apart, so the next installments will be of the average size instead of 8 to 9 page monsters I have to slay at once.