• PROLOGUE


    The year is 1539. The foolish king has gotten the country into another terrible war. From this war, a high cost in items has surged. Only the rich can own a house these days. The others, forced to live on the streets like animals, have started their very own war. A war against one another. People have started to form Alliances, and together fight for land. These people are called Weazles. A never-ending turf war is emerging. Have they become like animals? Maybe. Alliances are packs, and every pack has an Alpha. The Alpha is like the king. So, has the entire population become as foolish as their king?


    The streets of Vynn
    A teenage boy was running through the streets, with a spear in hand. He stopped, allowing his shoes to skid on the cobbles. He looked at the rooftops.
    "Okay boys, come on down." he said. Many dark bodies jumped down, landing on the cobbles with a huge slam. About 15 muscular men looked at the frail boy in front of them.
    "Fafnir." One of the man said. "We're gonna strike you down here and now. Even an alpha like you can't take all of us!" The frail boy crossed his arms. A few seconds later, his voice chimed in from another direction.
    "Over here, guys." The real one sat on a rooftop above them. The men were shocked to figure out the one they were looking at was nothing but a ice sculpture, created with his extraordinary ice magic abilities. "Even Titan's Eyes can't kill the Alpha of Sheepskin." he said with a frown on his face.
    "Oh yeah? Get 'im boys!" Yelled one of the Titan's Eyes. They pulled out large axes, and slowly swung at Fafnir.
    "What pushovers." he said. He threw his spear up in the air, and jumped at one of the attackers. He kicked him in the face, and bounced to another enemy. He punched this one, who turned into an ice sculpture at the touch. Fafnir jumped off of it, grabbed his spear (which was still in mid-air), and tossed it in the middle of the crowd. A small ice pillar grew from the ground, freezing the rest of the enemies.
    "If you can't handle ice, you don't deserve my spear!" he yelled. He landed on the ice pillar, smashing it, and his assailants into millions of pieces. He grabbed his spear and walked to a wall. He carved a ram-shaped symbol into the wall, signifying his rule over this area.
    "It is done." he whispered, and walked away from the wall, leaving nothing but water and corpses.


    SHEEPSKIN HEADQUARTERS
    "Guess who got us some new Turf?" asked Fafnir. The crowd inside the HQ cheered. This is where they all lived. A meat-packing plant. They finally had a new place to call their own.
    "You didn't have to go out there. We could have done it." said Ilios, the team Monolith. He was in charge of the fighters, so he thought it was wrong of Fafnir to go alone.
    "Whatever. Loosen up,bro!" he replied with a scoff. "Who wants a cold one?" The crowd cheered. He got a alcohol from the fridge and handed them out.
    "A toast. To new Turf!" he yelled. They all cheered, except,of corse, for Ilios, who looked at them with disgust. Fafnir started to drink.
    "That's terrible." said Ilios. "You're 16! You could go to jail!"
    "Cops can't catch us!" yelled Fafnir. Another cheer came from the crowd.


    LATER THAT NIGHT
    A loud shot could be heard outside. This was a very rude awakening to all the hungover Sheepskins, who looked around hazily. A cannonball came through their ceiling, smashing a few of them. They opened the door and saw a group of muscular men holding a cannon outside.
    "Haaaaaaaahahahahaha!" said one. He was smaller than the rest, and wore a green scarf. He walked up to Fafnir. "You guys are hungover as hell. This is the perfect time to kill you all!" he said. he pulled a large sword out of a hilt on his back. "Goodbye, Sheepskins!"


    TO BE CONTINUED.....