Thread: Valkyria Chronicles - The Unwritten account of the Warhounds

The moment she reached out, the Leader, Zeppel, pressed his hand onto his combat knife, a tense stare down between the two. She spoke very highly for a Pig who was faced before a slaughter, her noble words earning her quite the silent admiration from a few. His jesting smile softly melted into a frown, her challenge going against all that he had expected. Why did she not reply with anger or with rage? Why was she not consumed by hate or by contempt of him! As the children softly clutched each other in fear, Zeppel's hold softly shook. Was this the power of her resolve? Kughuh-! he grunted in anger, slapping her face so very hard with his hand. Zeppel removed his aim at the children for a moment as he grasped Isara from her collar, lifting her up slightly. His face showed a different kind of anger it was an anger that transcended reason itself. Good choice. Kill them. Commanded Zeppel. As his loyal servant, without hesitation Rat drew his gun and shot the one at the right, a hole clean through his heart. Painless yet brutal, the young child bled on the ground, slowly losing his own life. The other children began to cry as Rat simply executed the eldest, shooting him at the forehead without the slightest provocation. The remaining child of age 9 simply froze on that one spot, the cruel 'Big Brother' he had traveled with now slaughtering all of his playmates. You think we're being cruel? We're kinder than any other Company! We decided to waste bullets putting swine like you to rest! We could have used Knives, Clubs and even nooses to destroy you Pigs for all I care! he aimed the Barrel at her forehead, just as Rat did to the young child. By then, Miol had long passed, another four other children crying as they huddled together under the watch of another Mercenary. Pinning her body flat on the ground, he knelt one leg on her back, forcing her head up as he grasped her by her ebon black hair. This boy here...did he tell you? Well then, I'll tell you a cute little story. He was abandoned even by your People during his childhood. he stated, pressing down his leg a little bit for added pain. Rat looked away from his master and Isara, refusing to look her in the eyes while the reality of his past was revealed by his own 'master'. The Darcsen of Nad Lazen hated- No, they loathed him. He was an orphan who lived in the streets, starving and abandoned by the very Darcsen nurse who cast him away. The adults wouldn't even dare include him in their communal meals no matter how hard he pleaded with them, drinking murky water from drainage pipes in shanty homes and eating garbage. He was often beaten by children of his age, calling him degrading names and blaming him for the atrocities that the Darcsen experience! You talk all that about Community and Friendship, but I ask you why would they leave a soaking wet Orphan to starve to his death? Had it not have been for me, he would have died as a pathetic, nameless brat. I didn't twist his mind...your people did. ...Was that truly the extent of his suffering? His gesture did not attempt to disprove any of this. Was this...the inconvenient truth? It sounded almost like a lie... With a fateful snap of his Fingers, Rat nodded as he shot the last child, right between the eyes as the young child collapsed, bleeding. ...You wonder why he hates the Darcsen? Now you know because in his time of despair, not even his own people held their hand out for him. To them, he was nothing more than a soaking wet Rat who lived near the gutter, waiting out his death.