The Betrayers of Osiris

(Character descriptions in this post)

Wolfram frowned as he concentrated on the hieroglyphs on the papyrus before him on his desk. His frown deepened as he found it hard to concentrate because of all the other hundreds of pens scribbling in the background, well, they weren't pens, they were just sticks sharpened to a point, which you dipped in a slab of black gum next to you for ink.
Wolfram is a scribe, and since it was so hot in the vast scribe halls, the uniform consisted of just a white loincloth.
He tapped his hooves against the floor impatiently.
Yeah, hooves
Wolfram is a 17 year old Faun, with brown, slightly curly, thick hair reaching to just above his shoulders. His eyes are dark brown and he has a slight stubble on his chin. His torso is leanly muscled and his ears are pointed and his furry, strong hindquarters are the same colour as his hair.
Finally, after about two more hours of immense boredom, the gong sounded and everyone, including Wolfram, stood up and started to leave the halls. There was little change in temperature when Wolfram managed to get outside, the sun blazed down on him as he walked to the center of the Egyptian city.
This is where he hoped to meet his longtime friend Foxglove, a female Faun, same age as Wolfram, who had hair like his but longer and black, and black hindquarters; Foxglove's eyes were the same colour as Wolfram's though.
Wolfram was disappointed when he remembered what the date was.
"Festival of Osiris, Foxglove will have to be in that! She was chosen as one of the Seven Daughters of the Nile, she's the Bearer of the Cloak" he thought sadly.
He kicked a nearby apricot tree, leaving a hoof-shaped mark on it's bark. Wolfram raised his eyebrows as a roll of papyrus fell from one of the branches of the apricot tree. He picked up the papyrus and unrolled it, his eyes widening in horror as he read it. The writing on the papyrus claimed that the festival will be the last for this town. Wolfram quickly put the papyrus back in the tree and started to walk off. He couldn't do anything to stop whatever disaster was going to happen, who would believe a scribe anyway? Even if he showed the city guards the note, they would think he wrote it, and they are already disbelieving of scribes, just because scribes could read and write. Wolfram scuffed his right hoof against the stone ground and looked over at the island where the great Palace of the Seven Daughters was, sighing.

"Stand still!" commander Karg said to his well decorated unit of minotaurs, who were all reasonably smaller than him. For his battle experience and prowess, along with his size, and sheer strength, Karg had been appointed as the commander of the special section of militia who were to be present at the ceremony later that day. "You are a very important unit!" he began. "You are to be the honor guard of the ceremony today, which is one of the most important honors available. If you mess this up, it is likely that we will all be put to death, and I am sure none of us want that. I will dismiss you all, and I would like it if you could all keep your ears open, because I have a hunch that this ceremony will not go as planned. Listen carefully to anything. Basically, I am telling you all to eavesdrop and report to me when the sun dial reaches one hour before the ceremony. Dismissed!" karg turned away and joined the crowd of people at the market. He was hungry, and realized that he craved melon bread...

"Hey, Minnow."
Standing on a sand dune near the town was a woman wearing thin, white robes. A small sword was slung over her back, and she wore a pair of bracers -- one on each forearm. She cocked her head to listen to the speaker, the jackal's black fur offseting the sand as she rose an eyebrow.
"Yeah?"
"I caught sight of someone running away from that town... had a backpack on."
"Not that odd."
"I said running." the other person said, a human. "In this heat."
"...Wierd."
"D'you think this'll interfere with our plans?"
"No."
"Then we keep going?"
"Yes."
With that, the pair hauled themselves onto a pair of horses before making their way to the town.
"We have to keep a low profile." the jackal woman said. "Don't go crazy with that blade of yours."
"I know, I know."

Wolfram continued to stare at the Palace, thinking of Foxglove. His mind went back to the note in the tree and he shuddered. His ears perked up as he heard the Minotaur leader talking to his unit. He turned around and saw the leader wander into the market. Summoning courage, he went over to the tall Minotaur.

"Uh...Sir? I think I may have imformation regardin' people plannin' on the festival goin' wrong" he said, with all the courage he could muster.

The commander turned with surprise. Politely, he offered the stranger to wqalk with him. "Tell me what you know, scribe. Anything could be of help. If anyone knows what they're talking about, i'd bet a scribe would. Aside from some high ranking militants, no one else can read, thus i'd place bets that a scribe is much more knowledgeable. Anyway, please disclose any information you have concerning this afternoon's ceremony..."

Wolfram accepted the offer hesitantly.
"Well, sir, I found a note in an apricot tree, like it had been left for someone, it said that the festival was going t' be this towns last. The note didn't look like it was written by just anybody, the 'glyphs were too fluid" he explained. "I'll go get the note if you want, sir"

"Please do..." he said gruffly. "I've had a hunch that something was to happen, but I promise you, not on my watch."

Wolfram nodded and went back over to the apricot tree and found the note again, he took it back over to the Minotaur and handed it to him.

"Must've come from some sort of cult, sir" Wolfram said.

Commander Karg, eyes wide, hollared out for his unit to come before him for another briefing. Hesitantly, they all did as prompted, but did so as if it was the ;ast thing they wished to do. Their tiny break had been interupted. "Men, it has come to my attention that my hunch is very likely correct. A scribe has just shown me a message that had been placed in a tree, and this message says that something malevolent is to happen at the ceremony, thus a change of plan is in order. I will station three of you at each of the twelve checkpoints I had prepared incase of the eventuality. From there, you will watch over a designated section of the ceremony. I have taught you all the call of the malaysian blackhawk, so I want you to use it to signal the rest of the unit if there's trouble. The people in every odd numbered section, meaning 1,3,5,7 and so on for those of you who can't count, will then monitor double, wheras every even number will rush to meet up with the unit where the whistle came from. I want any trouble swiftly taken care of. Phineas and Gratch, come here." Phineas and Gratch, a huge wolfman and another minotaur, came before the commander. "You two are assigned the personal guard of the pharoah, who is to be present. Tell him Karg assigned you. We go way back..." Karg turned to the scribe. "Thanks." he said sincerely. "I promise that no harm will come to anyone at that ceremony aside from the perpetrators" The scribe and the commander clasped arms, which was awkward because the scribe knew nothing of such military gestures.

Having put away her horse, Minnow sat on a bench in an alleyway. Having heard all of the minotaur's speech, the woman slipped away with a low snarl.
'Damnit.' she thought, shuddering. 'They're bringin an army with them... this won't be as easy as it should be.'

Later, at the Festival...

Wolfram sat on a high wall, he had put a smart shirt on for the occasion, he sat somewhere where he could see the Pharoah and the Seven Daughters enter from the palace.
A huge table had been set up in the middle of the town square, with every kind of food imaginable. Decorations had been hung up on every building, mainly banners with pictures of Osiris on them. At one end of the great table stood a massive staue of Osiris, carved out of the finest basalt. Peasants hurried about, taking various orders from the nobles, and a few high class scribes were taking notes of the event. Since he was a lower class scribe, Wolfram was excused of this task. Truthfully, he should've been taking orders from the nobles with the rest of the peasants, but he just couldn't stand being bossed about by the stuck-up gits that some of the nobles are.
Wolfram's ears perked up when he heard the fanfare of the Pharoah's arrival, he turned his head towards the palace gate and watched. The Pharoah came in, escorted by Phineas and Gratch. Wolfram was suprised to see the Pharoah was actually walking, he usually got carried around on some sort of chair thing by his servants.
People cheered when the Pharoah walked past them, some of them falling to their knees in worship.
Wolfram looked at the palace again, just as the Seven Daughters came out. He spotted Foxglove instantly, she looked stunning. Foxglove's long black hair was braided with gold ribbon, she wore a simple white sleeveless dress trimmed with gold. Her hooves had been painted gold and she had two gold bands on each wrist and upper arm. Foxglove held the cloak in front of her as she stood in line with the other six Daughters. Wolfram watched as each of the Seven Daughters in turn placed the objects they were carrying at the feet of the statue of Osiris. Foxglove looked around when she had placed the cloak at the feet of Osiris and flashed a smile at Wolfram when she saw him. Wolfram returned the smile but he was on edge, he waited for whatever was going to happen at the festival to happen.

Standing in with the peasants that were around, Minnow's head was bowed in false prayer as her eyes scanned around under the protection of her hood.
'Where is he...' she thought to herself. Since hearing of a planned attack, the jackal was on edge, worried that her target would be heavily defended; or even not present.

Phineas and Gratch stood one step each in front of the pharoah, one on the right, and one on the left. They were ready for anything. If an arrow flew at the pharoah, one of them would take the shot. After one last change of plan a few hours back, one guard was assigned to each daughter. It was beginning to look more like a mass wedding than a ceremony of worship for the god, Osiris. A guard stood directly at the side of each daughter in a neatly organized formation. It seemed as if everyone who knew was on edge. All the guards, and even the pharoah. Phineas had informed him of the impending plot, but he said that the ceremony must continue. Karg was basically the pharoah's eyes, standing in the Pharoah's tall shadow. The pharoah was a huge bald man with a muscular bull neck. He had two braids, one on each side of his upper lip and a single braid under his chin. Ofcourse, he was dressed in the formal outfit of a pharoah. Karg, too, was edgy. No one had a clue who was on the inside and who wasn't. The soldiers of the unit were untrusting even of eachother. Karg, too, did not trust his unit, which is why he took this post. The hawk on his shoulder could see much better than he could, and it was his companion aswell as his warning beacon. Were the hawk to percieve a threat, it would caw, and that would alert everyone who heard it. Sinai was a usefuil companion and the only real friend Karg had. Being a military commander, he figured he had no time for relationships of any sort. Some of his soldiers thought he was unfit for the job because he refused any offers of comraderie aside from battlefield teamwork. Sinai flew up a few feet and took to a hover, scanning the horizon.

Sinai suddenly cawed a loud warning, everyone gasped as an arrow flew through the air at the Pharoah. Phineas leaped in and took the shot, falling to the ground. Another arrow came in and this time Gratch leaped in, the arrow grazed Gratch's arm and hit the Pharoah in the right side of the chest. It would have hit him in the heart if Gratch had not changed its course. The guards all ran forward and made a human barrier around the Pharoah, leaving no openings. The shaft of the arrow was lodged in the Pharoah's chest and he fell to his knees. Karg and Gratch quickly carried the Pharoah underarm away from the attack site.
Wolfram jumped off the wall and ran to protect the now vulnerable Foxglove. He cursed as an arrow hit him in the right thigh and he fell to the floor. A storm of arrows was now coming in from the desert, people were dropping like flies. Wolfram crawled on his belly across the ground, gritting his teeth at the pain in his right leg.
Foxglove hadn't seen him yet, she was taking shelter in the doorway of a building. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Wolfram reached a stone pillar and used it to pull himself up, blood was streaming down his leg. He saw Foxglove sitting huddled in the doorway a meter or two away.
"Foxglove...!" he gasped loudly, before fainting from the pain and blood loss.
"Wolfram!" cried Foxglove and had to use all her strength to pull her unconscious best friend over.
When Wolfram had fainted, the arrow had gotten caught in a crack on the stone pillar and had been pulled out, so now the wound was bleeding more than ever.
Foxglove put her hand over the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, using her other arm to support Wolfram's head and shoulders.

"Dmitri, take my place with the pharoah!" Karg ordered. "I have a favour to return. If it weren't for that scribe, the pharoah wouldn't even be alive. I'm going after the scribe and Foxglove. I owe him, and I saw the way he looked at her." Karg dashed out into the pandamonium of the attack. "What are you doing?! Get over there with the pharoah!" he shouted to some confused guards, who obeyed. One of them was swiftly taken down by an arrow that whizzed over Karg's head a split second before. Karg drew his blade and diced a few arrows that came for him. He felt a sudden pang in his left shoulder. He'd been hit. He sheathed the blade and pulled the arrow free. He cursed when he pulled out a broken shaft. The arrow itself was lodged in the wound. He dashed through the panicking croud and came upon Foxglove and un unconcious wolfram. "Tear his shirt off!" he said loudly to the panicked daughter of the Nile. "After you have it off, rip it in two and make a bandage out of it. It should slow the bleeding long enough for us to get him help. After it's on him, put pressure on the wound, but not alot or else it'll just make it worse." Karg knelt beside the unconcious man as Foxglove obeyed. "Damn it!" he screamed as he took a pulse at the scribe's neck. "His heart is slowing. we need to move fast!" Karg stood. Can you carry him?" he asked her.

"I...I think so..." Foxglove sobbed.
She brought Wolfram closer to her and picked him off the floor, then stood up with a little difficulty.
"The hospital is over by the palace" Foxglove told Karg.
She was beyond tears now, as she and the Minotaur commander made a dash for the hospital, with Wolfram in her arms. Arrows where hitting everything around them, Foxglove
sprinted through the curtain at the entrance to the hospital and lay Wolfram down on one of the beds. Healing priests rushed over.

Karg stared each priest in the eyes in turn with a terrifying raptor gaze. "You will heal him, and you will do it to the best of your ability. Don't you dare say it's beyond your power or i'll have your heads. Understand?" Karg went and stood by the entrance to the healing chapel. "I'll stand guard. No one gets in here..."

"Yes sir" said all the priests at once and began to work on healing Wolfram.
Foxglove sat by the bed and held Wolfram's hand tightly, watching as the healing priests undid the current bandage and cleaned the wound with damp linen, then proceeded to apply a paste made of healing herbs and water. The priests then got some fresh, dry linen and bandaged up the wound.
"He'll need rest, he lost a lot of blood m'lady" one of the priests said to Foxglove.
Foxglove nodded, the priests bowed and backed away from the bed. Foxglove rubbed Wolfram's hand with her thumb.
"Don't you die on me" she muttered.

Suddenly, there Kark drew his sword. "Quickly, take him to the back room!" he shouted. It was slightly difficult for him to wield the massive blade with only one arm, but he was a hulk himself. He'd manage. Je jumped back and two mysterious individuals wearing black shrouds and strange masks entered the room. Both were equipped with assassin blades. They ran in opposite directions and met Karg in the center of the room. "Nowhere to run..." one hissed. He thrust a blade and Karg dodged it, bringing up his massive sword and lopping off the man's head. The other was not even surprised by this and frontflipped, using Karg's head for support. In an instant, he had his blade to the commander's neck. "What would you do if I told you your entire force was dead..." he whispered into the commander's ear. Karg sneered. "What of the pharoah..." The man, seemingly angered by the question, tightened his grip and drew a small amount of blood from Karg's neck. "Oh, we'll have him soon enough... aswell as those daughters of the nile..." With a mighty roar, Karg lifted both arms. Good and wounded. Before the man could slit his throat, he grapped him by the head and threw him out the door with such force that only the body flew. Karg threw the severed head in the corner. "It's a good thing they moved before he came in here..." he said to himself. "If he wants the daughters of the nile, he'd most certainly know who they are..." Karg entered the back room where Wolfram was still being tended to. "It's not safe here... It's not safe anywhere near here..."

Foxglove nodded shakily.
"We'll have to go in the desert, there is a safe place hidden away in the hills far away from here, but to get there we'll have to go through a dead town" she said and shivered, despite the heat.
Wolfram twitched his head, Foxglove looked at him. He slowly opened his eyes, wincing as he pushed himself up.
"Careful" Foxglove said gently.
"Foxglove..." Wolfram said hoarsely.
Foxglove smiled before leaning in and hugging him. Wolfram hugged her back tightly.
"I heard you talking about where we have to take the pharoah and the other six daughters" he said, gently releasing Foxglove "Thank you for taking me here" he added to both Foxglove and Karg.

"Yes, it would be best were we to take the pharoah with us, but i'm afraid that some of the daughters may not have made it. I've yet to see to figuring out casualties. Can you walk, Wolfram?"

"I think..." Wolfram replied.
Foxglove watched as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood up. His wound twinged but that was expected. Wolfram practiced walking around the room, Foxglove noticed he was limping but that would wear off. She stood up as well and took hold of his hand, she then surprised everyone by saying:
"I know how to use a scimitar, that'll help a bit"
Wolfram stared at her in wonder, Foxglove smiled.
"Don't ask" she said.
"I know how to use a bow" Wolfram said when he had pulled himself together.

Karg suddenly fell to his knees, clutching the wound in his shoulder. Unexpectedly, his form changed completely to that of a human. Long, sheeny blonde hair took the place of the horns that were on his head moments ago. He let his arm drop, and the wound was gone. "I have some explaining to do." he said simply. "I'll make it quick though, because we don't have mush time." He stood. He was still huge, with bulching abdominal muscles. Sweat gleamed from the hulking man's bare chest. "I come from a race of shapeshifters, but we cannot take forms of anything we have not defeated. I suppose this is rather disgusting, but to gain the form, we must consume a small piece of our quarry. The fact that i've killed a minotaur is what netted me the rank in the military that I now posess. I can also shift into a wolf, a centaur and some sort of lizard man. We best find ourselves some equipment. I'll escort us to the weapons cache in the barrack." He heaved his massive sword over his shoulder with great effort. "As you can see, a minotaur is much stronger than a human but much less agile..." He could not carry the sword without hunching, but he would keep it with him until they reached the cache safely. "Come. We have no time to waste."

Foxglove was a little surprised. Wolfram was just plain confused. But they followed Karg anyway, the storm of arrows had stopped, but they had to walk in the shadows to avoid being seen by the shrouded assassins that lurked around.
Wolfram's left hand was still in Foxglove's right as they crept along behind Karg, finally coming into view of the weapons cache.

He turned, sensing the confusion. "Oh, by the way, Karg's just my minotaur name. Call me Fynn." He turned and walked briskly towards the Barack. When they got there, they entered the empty cache. It was full of armours and weapons of all sorts. "Take what you want, but no more than you can carry and use efficiently." Fynn went into a shadowy corner and when he emerged, he was wearing what looked like the most majestic outfit anyone had ever laid eyes on. He wore a pair of black trousers, and a black overcoat covering his chainmail. The coat came down past his hips and was split at the bottom into four. At his hip, he wore a conventioonal sword with a golden hilt and a series of glyphs wired into it. He also wore a black cape with a golden outer ring sewn onto it and a silver band on each wrist, also covered in strange glyphs. On his back, he wore a bow and quiver full of arrows. He wore metallic golden boots and a sweat absorbing white cloth around his head. It was the outfit of the pharoa's right hand man.