Wolves of Brennenburg - ch.5 (Amnesia fic)

Title: "Wolves of Brennenburg" - Chapter 5
Author: Lady Scale
Summary: The Baron of Brennenburg is the owner of several wolf-like dogs.
Just one of the many oddities Daniel finds during his stay at the castle, his curiosity revealing mysteries and intrigues. Savory descriptions, intimidating hounds, peculiar servants, and a plethora of delicious references Amnesia fans are sure to love.
Fandom(s): 'Amnesia - The Dark Descent'
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Later that same day, when the Englishman walked the corridors it was with one of the dogs. Nina, the one with the star on her forehead and the tuft of white fur just under the collar, was pretty much the only one of the hounds he felt safe with.

She walked by his side, him lightly combing his hand in the dark fur of her nape, occasionally hooking a finger into the collar whenever he felt unsure.

Daniel faintly heard cheering, and going to investigate, he increasingly felt the smell of wine along with a hint of clove. With Nina's coat brushing against his side as he made it to the kitchens, he encountered a good number if not all of the servants there, and they were clearly celebrating.

There was merriment all around, the room filled with the sounds of voices and clinking mugs of ale. The centerpiece was this huge simmering pot where the workers poured themselves and passed around beer steins full of wine.

He's greeted and one of the servants, smelling of wine and clove, with a whiff of sage, shoves a stein of hot wine in his hands, slurring something in German he couldn't understand. He politely declined the drink.

It was then that the baron came into the kitchens, glad to have found him, telling him dinner was ready soon. Daniel made his way to join him, Nina close on his heels. Alexander turned to convey something to those gathered there, their steins raising and cheering in response, before both of them made their way out and left them to their party.

"So, what's the reason for the celebration?" Daniel asked, rubbing the fur on the dog's neck.

"It's a momentous occasion today, Daniel. You see, Shatzi just had puppies." Alexander said. "You can come and see them after the celebratory feast." he added in response to his keen expression.

The mother wolf herself, of course, already received the leanest, most tender lamb meat. The nobleman heartily conveyed to him how their feast's main event will be a time-honored and sublime dish of Cockentrice. A banquet made to resemble mythical beasts of olden times' fancy, he explained to the Englishman's tentative question. Finally, the servants received a couple of days off, which they welcomed with some much-loved Glutwein, or spiced wine as it's called.

Daniel followed Alexander to the wine cellar, Nina having wandered off elsewhere. The baron was looking for a bottle to go with their dinner.

Among the graph of the cellar layout and the mysteriously locked door, the Englishman regarded the shelves of rose petal jam stored there, and his mouth watered. Daniel had developed a fondness for those jams. He requested some every breakfast, they were so good.

From the various wine bottles there, some with brightly-colored labels and covers, he picked out one which caught his eye. Its cover had a heraldic motif which included ribbons colored with stripes arranged in a peculiar pattern - black, yellow, red, yellow, and black again. He set it back and picked out another one.

"What about this one?" he asked, holding aloft a wine bottle which had a yellow-and-black colored label. The pattern vaguely reminded him of a hornet.

Alexander turned to look and swiftly snatches the wine from his hand. "No, Daniel! …not this one." He said before setting it back. "Choosing a Cabernet Franc is just misguided. Such a festivity calls for something more like a… Merlot." he suggested, picking a wine with an aged, yellowed cover which had a blazon etched in black and white.

Startled by the baron's heated flash, Daniel excused his inexperience, for he was not as versed in wines as he.

Dinner itself was… interesting. After a beef tripe stew seasoned with garlic and vinegar, the much-anticipated Cockentrice was finally revealed.

It was roast animal halves… sown together. On the plate there was the top part of a rabbit sown to the bottom half of a chicken and the upper half of a chicken fused with the lower half of a rabbit. The sight baffled him. So this is what it meant by resembling mythical beasts. The fact that the concept of the dish is as old as the dark ages made a lot more sense now.

Though it looked odd, it was finely cooked and tasted superb, with selected seasonings, stuffing, and garnish. He was also pleased to find that a plate on the side had black pudding – something the Englishman was entirely familiar with. The baron called it 'blutwurst', but no matter. The feast was concluded with 'apfelstrudel', meaning apple pie.


~~~= (@) =~~~


Every day the Englishman wrote in his journal, jotting down any oddity he felt was significant. The gardens, the memorial foyer, strange Prussian customs, why he even scribbled about the cuisine he enjoyed at the castle. And often he sighted. He missed Hazel. He wished his little sister could be here to experience it all.

Not the predicament with the Shadow, of course - heavens no. He wished she could enjoy all the strange and wondrous things of visiting a different country. Something better than being bedridden in a hospital.

And about the Shadow, Daniel asked again if they could do something about the orb. Do something to dispel that constant sense of dread which always remained at the edge of his mind and bearing over his shoulders, leaving him unable to truly enjoy his visit. And again, the baron urged him patience. The time to act shall come when it comes.

Through all the time spent at Brennenburg, the hounds still unnerved him. Oftentimes when he went through the castle, always with someone else, he would glance behind and see them looking straight back.

One wolf would be in the other end of a room when he'd pass a doorway, and when he'd enter the next room from there, he would look back – and it would be right there in the doorway, never far behind. It would send phantom nips across his back.

And there was this one time which truly put him on edge.

They both witnessed one of the wolf-dogs carrying a dead rat in its mouth. He heard Alexander curse, hurriedly stomping towards the culprit. He followed suit.

Seeing them approach, particularly with such vitriol from the baron, the grey-pelted hound backed away, until some others in the room got up and ceased chewing the ever-present and prized cattle bones. They snarled and barked, cutting off its path and making it freeze on the spot.

Alexander's voice lowered to a threatening rumble, demanding Rothschild to drop it.

The hound actually growled, refusing to relinquish its hold. The baron grabbed the other end of the dead rat. He did not tug, and he only glared down at the dog.

Rothschild snarled, showing teeth and red gums, brow creasing venomously.

Daniel's heart leaped in his throat. With trepidation he was awaiting an accident. He honestly thought the hound was prepared to rend flesh.

The other dogs continued to bark, as if insisting their comrade to listen.

Alexander maintained the staring match.

The tension was palpable.

Rothschild let go.

The rat carcass dangled in the baron's grip. "Guter knabe." he said, stroking the dog's nape.

And just like that, the tension evaporated. The wolves ceased their snarling, docile once more. Once more the baron proved his potent brand of power.

The way Alexander instilled obedience, and with such seemingly simple gestures, didn't cease to amaze. Daniel continues to wonder the effectiveness of his technique, whether it somehow borders on some… supernatural influence.

After the encounter, the nobleman relayed to him another rule: Only after Daniel had firmly proved and asserted his dominance, could he attempt to stare the dogs down into submission.


~~~= (@) =~~~