Zeroth Directive

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Coming of Age? Within the Pack, everyone's rite of passage is different. For some, it's completing a solo hunt. For others, it's closing a complex business deal. The Pack doesn't seem worried about these youngsters messing up. They boldly assign critical matters as trials to the young wolves, a practice that would seem utterly insane to anyone outside the Pack. As for Rossina... Hunts and business deals? She'd already pulled those off at an even younger age. To her, they were just routine. So the Pack arranged a special trial for her. They left Rossina in a deserted village, with only five luckless bandits for company. Those outlaws were desperate men, each already eyeing whatever meager means of survival the others had left, just waiting for a chance to stab each other in the back. The five of them kept each other in check, none daring to make the first move. But ... if that delicate balance was broken... Rossina's first task was simply to survive the bandits. That wasn't enough on its own. Beast attacks were also frequent there. Sometimes a lone predator, sometimes an entire group. The Elder Wolves dropped her off and left without a second thought. They seemed unconcerned whether she could survive in such an environment. When they returned to the village two weeks later, the sight that greeted them left them stunned. A fence had been erected around the village. The five bandits and Rossina were taking shifts on watch, vigilant against beast attacks. On days without raids, some of the five would go out hunting, others would gather fresh water. They had actually shaped into a proper, functioning team. Those men once constantly viewed each other with suspicion. No one knows how Rossina got them to follow her lead. In her own words, she just "made them understand the only way to survive." It's also worth mentioning that Catello went through the same trial. Well... He spent a few days killing all the nearby beasts, left enough food behind, then slipped away without anyone noticing. He only returned at the end of the trial. — Interview Transcript with Pack associate, Marco Wulfhowl Luppino

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"The Pack sent a tiny pup to talk? Did old Rozzan and his crew kick the bucket or something?" Rossi glanced at Erik, who was roaring with laughter along with his crew, and instantly lost any interest she might have had in the leader famously known as the "Cannon of the Wildlands". This was Rossi's first time handling the clan's ... "business". A week prior, a merchant convoy bound for the Luppino family had been intercepted by Erik. Out of respect for the Pack's name, they hadn't dared touch the couriers, but a sizable portion of the goods meant for return had gone missing. With Catello absent from the clan at the time, Rossi had volunteered, eager to prove her mettle with this particular "deal". But at that moment, Rossi was starting to regret her decision. This trip was even less interesting than a hunting trip in home turf. The so-called "Cannon of the Wildlands" was wriggling his bulky, bloated body while slapping the table with his hand. From the moment she'd walked in, he'd done nothing but attempt to provoke her. True strength is reserved, unyielding, never showing a crack. That was a lesson Rossi had learned within the clan. No one, not even Rozzan or the Elder Wolves, ever boasted so crudely about their violence. "Nonno Rozzan told me this is 'business.' From where I stand, every deal has one side that profits, and another that takes the loss." Rossi's eyes swept across the tent. The scent of gunpowder drifted to her nose, and she pinpointed where the other side had planted the explosives. The amount was small. Clearly, killing her wasn't the goal. A live wolf seemed far more useful to them. "The Pack doesn't mind letting our business friends wet their muzzles a little. Unfortunately, I haven't passed my rite of passage yet, so I'm not a true member of the Pack. And I only want profit. I don't do losses." "Looks like the Pack isn't planning to sit down and talk this out properly, eh?" A flicker passed through Erik's eyes. The bandits around them grew serious, some already resting their hands on their weapons. Two swordsmen, two axemen, and probably several casters lying in wait outside the tent. Judging by their positioning inside, it'd be tough to clear them out quickly. So— Having assessed the situation, Rossi toyed with a fork on the table, waiting for the right moment. "Listen. From the very first day I set foot in this blighted place, someone's been blabbering non-stop in my years. I can't do this. I can't kill that. I must follow the rules — the Code of the Pack." Erik's agitation grew. He stared hard at the girl who'd come alone. All these preparations were meant for Rozzan of the Pack. But the old man sent a bratty girl instead... Erik felt insulted. "The Code? It's written by those who are bigger and holds more power!" Erik hefted his cannon. The Pack prized their kin. Taking this girl hostage could prove far more useful. In a flash, a fork shot toward Erik. Rossi sprang from her seat and suddenly disappeared. Erik swatted the utensil away and raised his weapon to aim. "Behave and be still." A dagger pressed against the back of his neck. The surrounding bandits finally drew their weapons, but it was too late. "STOP! DON'T GET ANY CLOSER!" Erik yelled, feeling a chilling prick of cold against the back of his neck. "Counting on those casters at the door to bail you out? But that's odd ... it's way too quiet. Seems my clan wrapped things up even faster than I did. What were you saying again? Oh, right ... the Code..." The icy tip of the blade seemed to press an inch closer. "Do you understand what the Code of the Pack is?" Rossi sheathed her dagger. Erik whirled around, furious. All his careful planning, ruined by a child like this? "I gave the goods to the Bonekrushers. Try and take them back if you have the guts for it! Once they've wiped you out, then I'll be writing up a new Code for this turf!" "What did you say?" A killing intent he had never felt before radiated from the girl standing before him. Erik didn't know the price of bringing up the Bonekrushers around this girl, but he was about to learn. And soon. Looking at the wrecked tent, Rossi couldn't help but sigh. "Business is such a hassle."

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Three tolls of the bell sounded. One by one, the people at the gathering removed their hats and stepped forward to place fresh flowers into the cold coffin. Some wept quietly, others bowed their heads in silence. Rozzan scanned the surroundings, but he didn't spot that familiar crimson figure anywhere. The last of the Elder Wolves who survived the incident laid in the casket. He spent the rest of his days in pain. Though the Bonekrusher's haze ravaged his organs and their blades pierced his limbs, the Elder Wolf held on tightly to the swaddled young pup ... until he passed her into the arms of another boy... "She's still not here..." The words reached Rozzan. He gave a slow nod, then quietly passed the rest of the service over to another Elder. He knew where to find her. Whenever she was upset, she'd lose herself in the training grounds and stay there until late into the night. Rozzan watched the girl in silence. She noticed him too, but neither said a word. With one last fierce thrust, she drove her sword into the training dummy and collapsed to the ground. No one knew how long she had been pushing herself here. "He's gone." Rozzan approached Rossi where she lay gasping on the ground, his voice quiet and flat. "I know... I know..." Rossi pulled her hood down over her eyes, but her voice shook uncontrollably. Ever since she was old enough to understand, she had visited the wounded Old Wolf every single week so he could see that she was growing up strong and well. To her, he was the last living thread connecting her to those lost souls. "You should have been there. He would have wanted you there." "But ... it was because of me... He did it all for..." Rozzan hoisted her up and slung her over his shoulder before she could finish, carrying her toward the courtyard where the funeral was being held. "I can't face him ... it was all my fault... I don't want to..." Rossi thrashed and bit against Rozzan's shoulder. Her nails scraped his skin, her teeth sank into his arm. Rozzan's expression didn't flicker. He just kept walking toward the funeral. Soon, Rossi's strength gave out. She slumped against Rozzan's back, arms hanging limp. "I didn't become the wolf the Pack could rely on..." Rossi murmured, unsure if she was speaking to Rozzan, or to someone no longer there. "I never learned to stand on my own. I couldn't lead anyone. I haven't done a single thing right... I didn't deserve their sacrifice..." Rozzan came to a stop. The courtyard was empty now, save for the ashes of burnt offerings and a solitary coffin. Inside, the elder lay peacefully, covered in flowers. "Every time you came to see him, he'd always pull me aside afterward to talk. Maybe age caught up to the wolf and he never remembered what he told me. Just kept ranting the same stories on and on." Rozzan set Rossi down. He rested a hand on the edge of the coffin, gazing at his old friend. "He'd always go on about the glory days, the few times we butted heads. But the details ... those kept changing. One day he was the one who messed up, the next it was me. The same story was told different every time. Only one thing he ever said never changed." Rozzan reached over and ruffled Rossi's hair. "Every single time, he'd say that saving you was the greatest thing he ever did." Rossi lowered her head. She took off the pale pendant from around her neck, the one the elder had given her, and placed it among the flowers. The coffin sealed. The young wolf never cried again.

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