Good news and Bad news.

LISTEN UP PEOPLE! I have good news, and I have bad news (Like the title says) GOOD NEWS! The prequel to Reconnected is already confirmed! It's 100% fleshed out and plotlined! The bad news? I got an inspiration bug and started writing it today instead of working on Reconnected build 3 haha. The Other good news? DON'T WORRY! I'll pick Reconnected back up tomorrow! I just wanted to get this down on paper when it was in my system, and it's out of my system now! As always, this is a ROUGH DRAFT! It is UNEDITED and will GET BETTER when I actually finish Reconnected and revisit this. Yes, I am aware it cuts off in the middle of a sentence haha (It's a ROUGH DRAFT!) I highly advice you listen to the music listed as you read, It makes it bang that much harder! Without any further Ado, I bring you, "Vulperia United!"

THIS IS NOT VULTERUS FROM RECONNECTED. THIS IS VULTERUS'S ANCESTOR, 10,000 YEARS AGO WITH THE SAME NAME. THIS LORE IS EXPLAINED IN RECONNECTED BUILD 3!





Vulperia United

Black screen> outdoor sound effects

(Three sheets to the wind, Scott buckley)

The winds softly whisper outside my tent, carrying promises of victory and honor.

A warm sun, soft dew… and thousands of vulperian troops rising from a restless slumber.

What a beautiful symphony to wake up to, and what a beautiful day for war.

Today is the day… the day the Frost Wolves learn their place in the world… underneath a Vulperian claw.

A yawn tears from my heavy muzzle, and my muscles stretch to their limits as I prepare for the battle looming on the horizon.

???: “Master? Are you awake yet?”

The familiar voice of my squire, Pollus, tentatively echoes past the tent flaps.

Vulterus: “Yes, Pollus, I’m up!”

A happy giggle meets me in response, one just as excited as I am.

???: “I hope you’re not sleeping naked again, because I’m coming in!”

Incorrigible squires… he’s lucky I love him so.

Vulterus: “Yes, you little fiend, I’m decent.”

(Insert Pollus happy)

Pollus: “A great day for a battle, master! A great day indeed!”

Pollus: “Are you ready for what lies ahead? I hear the soldiers speaking your name through the camp…”

Pollus: “They say the Frost Wolves are calling you ‘The Shadow of The West’, and it seems our own troops have taken quite a liking to the title as well, sire!”

I grumble a bit as I sit up straight, my towering head nearly brushing the roof of the tent.

Shadow of The West, huh? Kinda cool… I don’t mind that… I don’t mind that one bit.

Vulterus: “If it’s increasing morale, then who am I to revoke such a title?”

Vulterus: “Besides, those Frost Wolf scums do have a knack for poetry…”

Vulterus: “It sort of rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? ‘The Shadow of The West.’”

I repeat the title, enjoying the way it tastes.

Pollus giggles again, bringing me my breastplate.

(Pollus smirk)

Pollus: “Ever the humble one, aren’t you, master?”

Pollus: “Far be it from me to contradict the great and mighty Vulterus! Oh no, sire, I’m just the squire, after all!”

His mischievous grin spreads wide, like a child that got away with stealing a quick coin.

Cheeky bastard… knows just how to get under my hide…

Vulterus: “You’re so very lucky I favor you, Pollus. Oh, so very lucky.”

Vulterus: “Any other master would have had you drawn and quartered for such insolence!”

He starts to fasten the breastplate to my torso with well practiced care… which I should hope he has, considering how many times he’s had to do it.

Pollus: “Aye, and I’d deserve it too! But tell me, Vulterus, if you had me drawn and quartered… who’d keep you entertained with such lively banter!”

Pollus: “You wouldn’t make it a day without me, and you know it!”

I mean… he’s right.

These long marches would be far more boring if that damned weevil wasn’t around all the time.

He finishes fastening my armor to my shoulders, and steps back to admire his handiwork

Pollus: “There you are, master! Just as devilishly handsome as ever.”

Pollus: “The jet black fur, the height, the bulk, the muscles! I’m surprised you can even walk with all the women that throw themselves at your footpaws!”

I scoff loudly at his remarks.

Vulterus: “Gotcha, Pollus! How can you label me as having an ego when you go around saying such flattering things!”

Pollus, who is now fastening greaves to my calves, flashes me a sly wink.

Pollus: “Because I didn’t say they were true… but you believed them all the same!”

Dammit…

No matter how hard I try, I can’t get a paw up on him in these silly battles of wit.

Vulterus: “Clever squire indeed.”

Pollus laughs, shaking his head.

Pollus: “So tell me, Vulterus the great and humble… is the armor too tight? Do I need to loosen it a bit? Wouldn’t want you tripping and slamming your muzzle in the mud in front of the whole Vulperian army, now would we?”

I get to my feet, flexing my foot claws and wiggling my toes.

The cool metal is rigid and unyielding, but there’s just enough space for me to keep my grip if I needed to make a hard turn.

Vulterus: “Flawless as always, Pollus.”

Vulterus: “I guess now it’s my turn to stroke YOUR ego… if such a thing existed.”

Pollus passes me my gauntlets, forged of black ore like the rest of my war attire, which I hastily put on.

Pollus: “It exists… but that doesn’t mean you’re ever going to see it.”

His eyes soften, and his normal playful smirk gives way to a grimace of genuine concern.

Pollus: “You… you are going to come back… right?”

Pollus: “Promise me this isn’t going to be the last time I see you?”

My breath catches in my throat, and it has nothing to do with the heavy armor.

War is always a risk… but I have never lost a battle yet, and I don’t intend to have that change today.

Vulterus: “I know that day will come… eventually… but it’s not going to be today, Pollus. I promise you that.”

He looks up at me with affection heavy in his eyes, and something that might just be a hint of a tear, even if he’d never admit it.

Pollus: “As much as I still need you around, your troops… your people… they need you even more.”

Pollus: “I don’t need to tell you how much they admire you… do I?”

Pollus: “Vulperia would be a nation in shambles if it wasn’t for you.”

Pollus: “And as much as you hate it when I say things like this… but… dammit… I admire you too.”

He wipes a paw at the back of his eye, and shakes his head to ward off these sudden sappy emotions.

Vulterus: “Don’t fret, Pollus. Some mangy Frost Wolf isn’t going to be the thing that takes me down.”

Pollus passes me my visored helm, and raps his short claws against my breastplate.

Pollus: “Well, thank the gods for that!”

Pollus: “Now, are you going to make an appearance, or mope around your tent all day?”

Pollus: “The troops need their leader! I already have your thragg saddled and ready for you.”

I laugh a little at his eagerness.

Seems someone was up early… or perhaps I’m up late?

I’m probably up late…

The metallic thud of my greaves clanks off the soil as I step out into the camp.

A piercingly bright sun shines overhead, a good omen for victory.

The heavy scent of salt and steel permeates the air as soldiers prepare for what’s to come.

The entire camp is buzzing with life and energy.

Squires scurry about, gathering armor and weapons as they bring them to their masters.

Birds flit and flap overhead, enticed by the promise of plenty of carrion for days to come.

I stretch my arms high above my head and start to make my way to the front of the camp… it’s almost time to head to the battlefield.

Pollus: “SIR!”

My footpaws pause mid step, and I turn over my shoulder to see what the annoying squire has to say.

Vulterus: “What is it, Pollus?”

He rushes over to me, a large scabbard across his arms.

Pollus: “You almost forgot your sword again, you dumb brute!”

I walk over to him hastily, and draw the blade from its leather home, quickly checking its sharpness.

The black blade glitters in the morning light, dazzlingly bright and perfectly whetted.

Ah, Soul Rend… what a terrible name for such a beautiful weapon.

Pollus: “It looks just as hungry as ever, master… make sure you feed it well out there.”

He shoves the scabbard into my chest, and I fasten it to my belt.

Vulterus: “I will, Pollus… I will.”

As I trek through the camp, I can’t help but notice the whispers and glances the soldiers throw my way

‘By the gods, it’s The Shadow!’

‘Ayy, squire! Come take a look! It’s Vulterus! He’s gonna lead us to victory!’

‘What a sight to behold, sir! I wish you luck out there, not that you’d need it!’

They all bow respectfully as I pass by, well aware of the respect their fearless leader deserves.

Well… as fearless as I can be… I’m not a god, after all.

As I reach the front of the camp, my massive thragg is waiting for me, stamping its claws restlessly into the dirt.

He sees me approaching and charges forward, slamming his enormous head against my chest, toppling me to the ground.

Vulterus: “OOF! Down, Scuzzy! Down!”

Scuzzy, my faithful companion on the battlefield.

Him and I have seen our fair share of conflict together, and there’s no beast more noble in all of Vulperia…

Even if he is an ugly son of a bitch…

His barbed tongue flicks out, tickling at my muzzle, but he knows exactly how much force he can apply before it starts to hurt.

I swat his head out of the way, and I swear he smiles as I roughhouse with him in return.

My paws grip his curbed ears as I use them to heave myself back onto my footpaws.

Vulterus: “Must you ALWAYS embarrass me, Scuzzy?”

The thragg tilts its head, looking up at me curiously.

Its dark brown fur bristles across the mane, and he bends low, allowing me to mount myself in the leather saddle across his back.

Once I’m firmly in place, I give him a soft kick on the flanks, commanding him to rise.

He turns tail and starts to gallop towards the hill near the camp, well aware of where the battle is going to take place

He can smell them… the Frost Wolves.

At the sight of me heading towards the ridge atop my companion, horns burl and call forth, heralding that it’s time to begin.

A cacophony of sparks and steel chorus behind me as the camp moves out, setting a brisk pace in my wake.

Today is the day… in a few hours time, the Frost Wolves will be crushed, and the blood sun will rise over a new Vulperia.

A strong Vulperia… one safe from the threats that lie in the north.

Tall trees and brush lie far beyond me in the distance, creating a backdrop to the picture I intend to paint with sword and blood… and this field is my canvas.

The sounds of a panting creature pull me from my ruminating, and I look down over Scuzzy’s flank to see one of our scouts, sprinting to catch up to me.

As he approaches, Scuzzy lets out a deep snarl, warning the scout of the consequences for getting too close to his master.

Vulterus: “Easy there, Scuzzy. Plenty of time for that soon enough, boy.”

The scout holds out his paw to me, a tiny scroll clutched in his fingers.

???: “Vulterus! General Thorne sends word that his troops are in position on the flank!”

???: “Your strategy worked flawlessly, the Frost Wolves wont suspect a thing!”

A sly grin spreads across my muzzle.

I’m just the distraction. Frost Wolf pride is going to be their downfall today.

They assume that The Shadow of The West will be seeking glory and honor… but that’s not the case.

Today, the honor will go to General Thorne. I just have to hold the line long enough for the flank to work, and when they have nowhere to run, the Frost Wolves will crumble.

They’ll never see it coming.

A flawless strategy. Reputation is a weapon as sharp as any sword, and as precise as any bow… if you know how to wield it.

Vulterus: “Thank you, lad. Best get back to camp, and make sure it’s ready for our return.”

He gives an exhausted nod, and sprints off back down the hill, shouldering past soldiers stretching out as far as the eye can see.

As I crest the hill, I see the Frost Wolf lines starting to form near the woods, and a deep growl rumbles through my throat.

Scuzzy sees them too and I feel every muscle in his strong body tense beneath me, but he keeps his pace measured and controlled.

In what seems like only a matter of moments, the tall grass is creeping up beside me, tickling at my black fur as we arrive.

This will be the place where I leave my mark on the world.

This is the place that will go down in history as the place where Vulterus the Conqueror defeated the Frost Wolves.

My soldiers get in line behind me, spanning the entire length of the field, shoulder to shoulder.

Rows and rows of vulperian troops pile in, quivering in anticipation… well aware of what is going to occur in just a short while.

Now is the time.

(Golaith, Scott Buckley)

I ride across the lines, Scuzzy’s powerful paws slamming against the stones and soil as my deep voice echoes loud enough for all to hear.

Vulterus: “Brave soldiers! Listen to me well, and heed my words!”

Vulterus: “Today is the day we quell the Frost Wolf threat forever.”

Vulterus: “Today is the day that we safeguard our homes!”

Vulterus: “Look beside you, men! Look around you!”

Vulterus: “These are your brothers, your sisters! We do not fight as one Vulperian alone, but as one tribe! As one nation!”

Vulterus: “Our hearts beat as one, and together, we shall NOT be defeated by our enemies!”

Vulterus: “Think not of what this means today, but think of your families!”

Vulterus: “Today, we fight to protect our wives, our sons and our daughters from those that would do them harm.”

Vulterus: “Steel your resolves, men. The Shadow of The West rides with you, and I will fight until my dying breath!”

Scuzzy halts, rearing up high above the ranks and causing a deafening cheer in response to his dominant display.

Vulterus: “WE WILL SHOW THEM WHO WE ARE! WE WILL SHOW THEM WHAT WE STAND FOR!”

Vulerus: “NO LONGER WILL WE TOLERATE THEIR VILE WAYS. NO LONGER WILL WE SIT IDLY BY!”

Vulterus: “TODAY, WE TEACH THEM WHAT IT MEANS TO BE VULPERIAN!”

Vulterus: “TO ARMS, MY BROTHERS. SHOW THEM THE MEANING OF THE WORD ‘FEROCITY’!”

I throw my visored helmet over my head, and draw Soul Rend high into the air like a beacon of light and virtue.

My piercing blue eyes scan over my soldiers one last time as Scuzzy can hold back no longer and tears across the field like the avatar of death itself.

Vulterus: “FOR THE SHADOW OF THE WEST, AND FOR A VULPERIA UNITED!”

Vulterus: “CHAAAARGE!”

The battle cry behind me nearly knocks me off my mount, and the very ground beneath me trembles and shakes with the force of my beloved army rushing to face our enemy.

The Frost Wolf horns blare into the air, and I see the first of their ranks sprinting to meet us head on.

I will not falter.

I will not fail.

I am Vulterus the Conqueror, and I have never known defeat.

Today will be no different, the blood sun shines down upon Vulperia, and Vulperia alone.

The wind rushes past my ears, drowning out everything but the sight of my enemy.

Time seems to stand still, drawing out for as long as I can recall, and yet in the blink of an eye… the battle has started.

Scuzzy leaps into the air, and his paws crush the first Frost Wolf with a sickening squish.

Snarls and fangs gnash all around me as Soul Rend dances through the air, severing heads and limbs alike.

Blood splashes up into my mouth as a scream of agony pierces through the air.

Metal and claws clash together as each side refuses to relent, unwilling to give up a single inch.

A terrifying roar echoes from my chest as I begin to cut a path through the front lines.

I just need to hold on long enough for General Thorne. Just a little while longer, and I’ll have my victory.

Adversary after adversary falls to my blade as I tear through them without mercy.

Just then, I’m yanked off Scuzzy's back and I slam hard into the ground.

The air surges out of my lungs as my spine crashes against my breastplate, and my vision hazes over for just a moment.

As I regain focus, I see the curved blade of a Frost Wolf soldier arcing towards my deliciously exposed throat.

I throw my paws up a crash of steel surges through my body as my gauntlets deflect the blow.

The very next thing I see is Scuzzy’s jaws clamp down over the soldiers head, enveloping it fully as he rips it clean from the Frost Wolf’s shoulders with a vicious squelch.

The thragg stands over me, refusing to let any harm befall his master, even if it would cost him his own life.

I roll out from beneath his paws, and get to my feet, holding my blade defensively in front of me as another Frost Wolf charges forward to take his fallen comrade’s place.

Lowering my shoulder, I slam into his chest, taking him clean out of the air with my vastly superior size, breaking his ribs with only one blow.

Soul Rend is all too eager to finish his suffering, spawning a river of blood beneath my armor clad footpaws.

Where the FUCK ARE YOU, GENERAL THORNE!?

WE CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS!

All around me I see the corpses of Vulperians and Frost Wolves alike littering the field of battle.

Scuzzy snarls at my side, and together we leap back into the fray.

Frost Wolf after Frost Wolf falls beneath us, but for every one that dies, two more take its place.

Wave after wave crashes against us, but like a mountain in the sea, we stand strong.

Scuzzy roars in pain as a Frost Wolf blade plunges into his shoulder.

Fury rises into my throat and I dash forward like a bolt of black lighting, cutting off the villain’s arm and soon after his head.

Vulerus: “YOU ALRIGHT, SUZZY BOY?”

He snarls his affirmation and rips the sword from his flesh, casting it into the enemy ranks.

A soldier falls against me,

General Thorne: “FOR A VULPERIA UNITED! CHAAAARGE!”

Out of the corner of my visor, I see an entire battalion of thragg riders break the tree line, slamming into the Frost Wolf flank.

Hope wells up inside me, and I press forward with renewed vigor.

Right on time, General Thorne, right on time.

Let’s finish this, once and for all.

Screams and wails of agony sound from the rear of the Frost Wolf lines as General Thorne descends upon them with an unparalleled bloodlust.

The opposition’s morale crumbles, and I see them turning head, only to be met face to face with a vicious pair of thragg fangs and Vulperian steel.

Vulterus: “ONWARD BROTHERS! VICTORY IS NEAR!”

The heralding shout spurs my men forward, and the energy practically sparks from soldier to soldier as we slaughter foe after foe.

The savage roars of reinforcing thraggs is music to my ears, and soon enough, the Frost Wolves are fleeing back into the woods.

???: “SURRENDER MEN, THE DAY IS LOST! LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS!”

The plea of their general choruses over the battlefield, and the Frost Wolves obey, dropping to their knees and cowering beneath our might.

Cheers erupt from all around me, and Scuzzy’s thick head thrashes from side to side as he seeks out his next victim.

I pat him lovingly on the muzzle as I attempt to calm him from his frenzied state.

Vulterus: “Easy, boy! Easy! It’s over! WE WON!”