//------------------------------//
// For the Fatherland...? 
// Story: The Thin Line 
// by TerribleSpeller 
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Rottendam, Feathisia 1016

The sewer system of the centuries-old city of Rottendam was an envy of the world, the newfound success of Feathisia and the trade expeditions across the world brought enormous wealth to the Duchy, allowing them to do many projects and improve their living conditions while most of the world was still stuck with open sewers that merged with rivers. 

With a flashlight in his grip, a bag slung around his neck, Rijtsfaal walked with fear as he walked through the old sewers. Occasional creaks, water drippings, or the usual mice would cause him to jump around in fear. The rotting smell of faeces and decaying food filled his nostrils, but that was a mere inconvenient to him in comparison to the fear of a sudden ambush. In this sewers, with the Imperial Authorities hot on your tail, fear of anygriff just behind a corner was a reasonable fear. 

The reason for additional fear was the news that was emerging out of Cloudsbury, the supposed story of a Republican Extremist Group which had begun a guerilla war in the countryside and cities of the former Griffonian Republic. Of course, the Imperial authorities denied it, but the fact train trips to Cloudsbury were suddenly suspended only strengthen the claim.

Turning a corner, Rijtsfaal was met with the sight of light emerging from what seemed to be an open door down the sewers. Shining his flashlight around, the Griffon continued to walk down the narrow pathway between the wall and the horrid water infested with Boreas knows what. 

While walking down to the Hallway, Rijtsfaal's mind turned to his family, he hasn't seen his family for several years now. He worried about what happened to his sister, Anna was studying at Yale when the war between the Empire and Feathisia occurred. Hopefully, she was fine. Anna was a strong girl. 

Turning his attention back to the present, Rijtsfaal had reached the door, and he peeked his head through. He was greeted to the sight of several boxes stacked neatly in one corner and several, what seemed to be empty bags in another. There was a table in another corner with some paper strewn about. Rijtsfaal walked over to the corner full of boxes and lifted one of the covers open.

Rijtsfaal looked in it to see the box half full with the E-4 explosives. He didn't exactly know why the Resistance Command wanted to gather all the explosives they had in a single location, but he knew that if word got out about it, the Resistance was screwed. 

Opening his bag which was stuffed full of more E-4 Explosives, Rijtsfaal took each piece carefully and placed it in the box. He counted about seven pieces of explosives, all roughly twice as big as his claw. After closing the box again, walked over to the pile of papers strewn about on the table. Maybe that would explain Command's weird orders. 

Reaching the table with all the papers on it, Rijtsfaal picked up one using his claw and examined its content. It was a map of Rottendam, there were several circles on the map, with most of them having been crossed out. With only one circle not crossed off and marked with red ink saying "Perfecte locatie!".  He didn't exactly know why the restaurant on a three way intersection was marked as so. It probably was a place for weapon drop offs or something. 

Rijtsfaal placed the paper back on the table, and Rijtsfaal left the room, closing the door before him. Turning his flashlight on again, he began navigating his way through the sewers, heading for the exit. 





Two Days Later

Rijtsfaal sat at a coffee shop, sipping his coffee and looked out at the street which he had a perfect view of from his position. He merely wore a scarf and a jacket on days like this. Gebakken had contacted him and told him to meet up here.  He thought it was weird, Gebakken was never a coffee griffon, preferring alcohol instead.

Rijtsfaal focused his gaze on his coffee again when a griffon with a scar on her right eye entered the cafe. The Griffon's feathers were messy and the hat she was wearing was full of dust. Not to say her clothing was better either, filthy and dirty.  She seemed to look around the cafe for a moment before spotting Rijstfaal and walked over to him.

Rijtsfaal looked up from his coffee to look at the red-feathered griffon taking a seat in front of him. 

"I thought Gebakken would be meeting me today, Säls," said Rijtsfaal, not taking a glance at the cafe. He knew full well he had to play the role of a surprised friend, just in case, there were some Imperial spies in the cafe. Rijtsfaal kept his gaze on the dishevelled griffon in front of him.

Säls was a salesgriff, well former salesgriff. The factory in which she was working in being nationalized and converted to an arms factory caused her to lose her job. She - like Rijtsfaal - at first didn't want to join the resistance. But having your husband being shot upon by Imperial soldiers tended to cause griffons to snap and join a resistance force against an oppressive government. 

"Gebahkken's got some shit to deal with, Rijts," said Säl, even from half a meter away, Rijtsfaal could smell cigarette smoke reeking off her. Her accent gave away where she came from, Katerin. "So, I've come in his place,"

"Any idea what type of stuff?" Asked Rijtsfaal. Taking a sip of coffee.

"No idea," Säl said, "Anyways, everything is set in place, the higher up are going to begin our new project today,"

"Which project exactly?" 

Before Säl could answer, the sound of wheels screeching interrupted their conversation. The entire cafe turned to the source of the commotion. A truck swivelled on the road and crashed into a building a bit down on the street.. Luckily, from the look of things, no pedestrians got hurt. 

Just as Rijtsfaal was about to get back in the conversation when the back end of the truck opened up, and several masked griffons emerged from the truck, carrying weapons. 

Rijtsfaal grabbed Säl and ran for the door as gunfire soon filled the streets. Griffons screamed and chaos enveloped the street. 

Exiting the cafe and taking a hard left, the duo ran for about ten minutes before stopping at one of the Resistance safehouses. Säl fumbled with the keys before managing to open the door. Rijtsfaal collapsed onto to the wall in the front room while Säl collapsed into the chair. Still gasping for air, Rijtsfaal turned to Säl, "By Eyr, we just got out of there,"

"Yes, yes indeed," Said Säl standing up, tiding her clothes. "Wouldn't want the higher-ups finding out one of their members died to one of their own operations," 

"Yeah, and- hold up," Rijtsfaal narrowed his eyes with suspicion, "What did you mean by 'their own operations'?"

"It was in the briefing, RIjts, did you pay no attention?" Said Säl, nonchalantly.

"No, I was in a different province!" Shouted Rijtsfaal. He walked closer to Säl, an accusing finger on her chest. "Explain,"

"The Riverlanders want us to direct attention away from the front, and since a year ago we haven't delivered them what they wanted if don't do, as they say, I doubt we'll be able to establish an independent Feathisia by the end of this war,"

"Did the higher-ups try negotiating?  Blowing up more railways and factories? Or something else other than shooting innocent bystanders and our griffons!?" 

"It wasn't effective enough, Rijtsfaal," said Säl "A factory thrown out of commission can be easily repaired, so is a railway, we weren't creating enough chaos. And the higher-ups decided that a terrorist attack was the only thing that could cause the chaos we needed to keep our RIverlander suppliers satisfied,"

Rijtsfaal looked at Säl with disbelief, "I can't believe it! You're trying to tell me, that the higherups are okay with the FOLF becoming a terrorist organization!? Just like those Prywhenian Communists!?" 

The Prywhenian Communists, while being an ally to the Feathisian Organization, were renowned for their aggressive resistance methods, often engaging in brutal house to house fighting against garrisons. Often the not racking up the civilian casualties.

"We were already a terrorist organization from the start, Rijts!" Shouted Säl, "Blowing up factories? Blowing up railways? We're striking terror into the hearts of the enemy Rijts, we were meant to create terror, and with only terror can we liberate our Fatherland!" 

A scream echoed throughout the house as Rijtsfaal claw collided with Säl's face. Säl touched the place where her face and his claw collided to see some blood. Now, it was Säl's turn to stare at Rijtsfaal in disbelief.

"If what it takes to liberate our fatherland requires killing innocent lives, then it is better our Fatherland isn't liberated," said Rijtsfaal in a low voice.

"Then you are a coward, Rijts," Säl said, "You are not willing to do the things needed to free this land from its occupiers, but the rest of we are, soon our greatest ever operation will occur, and in its wake, the Emperor will be dead,"

"What? There's no fucking way you could assassinate the Emperor who's always in the Palace," 

"Are you dense, Rijtsfaal? He's visiting Rottendam in two days, along with his regent. With our stockpile of tens, no hundreds! Of explosives, both of them will be dead,"

Rijtsfaal froze as he finally understood the higher-up's plan with the boxes of E-4 explosives in the sewers, the map with a busy market place marked with "Perfecte Locatie". 

"So that's why you needed those explosives in the sewers..." Rijtsfaal muttered. Säl nodded. "No, no, you're not saving it, you... you monster," muttered Rijtsfaal, moving to the door, "You're going to take so many innocent lives...  just to liberate our country... I can't do that Säl, I can't do that," 

"You're also a monster, Rijtsfaal, you helped us," said Säl. 

"Yes, I'm a monster, fooled by other monsters to become one," He said. "I cannot let this continue,"

"Then I'm afraid I can't let you leave, Rijtsfaal," 

Before Rijtsfaal can comprehend what the griffon meant, he felt a scrutinizing pain in his shoulder and he looked to see a spot of red spreading out from it. He turned around and looked at Säl who held a gun in her left claw, still smoking from the barrel. 

Rijtsfaal lunged at Säl and threw the gun out of her claw. The two griffons fell to the floor, and Säl attempted to reach for the gun but Rijtsfaal began punching the griffon. The two struggled on the floor continuously as Säl grabbed Rijtsfaal's throat and threw him to the side. 

Säl got up and attempted to reach for the gun but was brought down to the floor again as Rijtsfaal grabbed her hind legs and jumped for the gun. Manging to grab the gun in his claws and rolled around onto his back as Säl just got up and lunged at him.

A gunshot echoed throughout the house. The body of Säl fell onto the floor, limp. Her eyes will still fill with determination as she laid on the floor.

Rijtsfaal got up and looked to see blood staining his clothes. And taking one last look at the body of Säl, Rijtsfaal placed the pistol in his pocket and ran straight out the door. As he ran on the street, with bloodstain clothes, the streets were filled with the sound of military vehicles as the Imperial Feathisian Garrisons were dispatched to the scene of a terrorist attack.