Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lornaine Forest

as written by Tiko and Knosis

"I'll be fine," Desmond reassured her. "There's no one out 'ere but us."

His shirt joined his jacket upon the branch and he kicked off his shoes, but he left the rest for now as his eyes found hers. The energy that coursed through Chloe left goosebumps raising on his own arms as it coaxed the wolf within him to the surface.

His eyes had taken on a golden amber, and his blood quickened with the pounding of his heart as his body began to prepare itself for the change.

“Very well, then.” She whispered. She sounded almost relieved. The feeling in her was both torturing and thrilling, and it frightened her as it always did when she knew the wolf was close. Years of forcing the werewolf side back drove her to instinctively to push back, and Desmond could see her wince as she did.

“I’m tired of fighting you..” She muttered to herself. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She seemed to physically relax, as if accepting a fate. “Just go.”

The words were like triggers. As soon as they left her lips, she folded, grabbing her sides as muscle and bone began to crack and writhe to their new forms.
 
as written by Tiko and Knosis

Desmond moved swiftly to join Chloe as her body contorted with the change that overtook her. He stripped the last of his clothes before doubling over to catch himself as his skeletal structure twisted and popped beneath realigning joints. Fur sprouted rapidly as his faced elongated into the muzzled visage of a wolf and a minute later a massive black wolf was shaking itself off.

Yellow eyes stared out from beneath thick fur as Desmond stood poised. His stance was strong, his head and tail high, but there was no aggression in him. His body language spoke of a watchful confidence, with no trace of threat.

Shifting is never easy. For Chloe, it had always been excruciatingly painful for the long years she had fought it.

This transformation, was no different.

Even willing herself to transform, as soon as the pain took over her natural defenses shot up in reflex. So it would come to no surprise there was an angry ball of red and white fur with sharp teeth bared in front of Desmond once it was over. Green eyes glared angrily up at the black wolf, a deep rumble escaping her throat.

Still, he could see that there was some difference in this time. There was acknowledgement in her eyes, and not a blind rage that had driven her before.
 
as written by Tiko and Knosis

Desmond let out a somewhat amused snort before turning and bounding off into the woods, an open invitation for Chloe to follow should she choose to.

Chloe's ears flicked back, but bounded after him in a full tilt run, determined to catch up to him.

As Chloe overtook Desmond, he gave his shoulder a shove against hers followed by a mischievous nip of his teeth before redoubling his speed as his paws pounded against the earth and his tongue lulled free of his jaws.

Undergrowth and low-hanging branches snapped beneath his size, but his thick fur protected him from their raking grasp as he sought to draw Chloe deeper into the thick of the woods.

The red wolf stumbled slightly and let out a soft 'yip' as Desmond nipped her and darted past. She snipped as well, but missed skin and only grabbed a teeth full of his black fur. This seemed irritate Chloe further, and spurred her to push herself faster. Needless to say, he had her full attention.

If he could have grinned, he would have. He felt the swipe of her teeth as she landed a mouth full of fur, and he veered off-trail as he plowed through the underbrush to avoid the log he knew lay across the trail up ahead.

His knowledge of these trails lent him an edge in keeping just out of Chloe's reach, but his bulky size also proved a hindrance as Chloe could pass through denser brush than he could.

Chloe was panting heavily by this point, but she was steadily gaining ground. Once close enough, she let out a growl and pounced, attempting to land on him with her full weight and to sink her teeth into the nape of his neck to pull him with her.
 
as written by Tiko and Knosis

Desmond let out an oomph of breath as her weight knocked into him and he twisted about, snapping his jaws closed around loose fur. As they hit the ground he let out a rumbling growf as he tried to regain his footing beneath her weight.

She growled softly and tugged at his skin enough to pinch, but not hurt. She racked her claws against his fur, but it did not seem the intent was to hurt him. She let him go and pulled at his leg playfully for a moment while he mouthed at her in retaliation until she let him go and bounded back off of him. She was laying down, her ears were up, her eyes big.

For all purposes, she looked like one giant puppy.

He rolled to his stomach poised for a moment before he half rose to his feet as if to spring back upon her. He froze though as she prepared for him to bound after her, and a moment later he sprang away from her and back into the underbrush with her on his heels.

They went on like that for some time, romping and rough-housing through the underbrush until Desmond finally flopped down on the earth, panting heavily. Chloe's rough-housing was met with an amused growf as he flopped over onto his side and left her to her antics.

She panted heavily and stood there for a moment, tilting her head at Desmond. Her maul opened as she let out a whimpering yawn and flopped to the ground where she had been standing. Her breathing slowed and her eyes drooped slowly as the need for a nap closed down on her.
 
as written by Tiko and Knosis

Desmond rolled over onto his stomach and rested his chin atop Chloe before joining her in slumber.

____

Afternoon was giving way to early evening when Desmond finally roused from sleep, but there were still several hours of daylight left.

He let out a lazy yawn before snuffling at Chloe and nudging at her with his snout to rouse her.

Chloe winced in her sleep, grumbled and pushed at Desmond ratherly noisely. She had been having such a nice dream. It wasn't until she realized where she was, did she sit up and looked into the big yellow eyes. "You know, that's not a face I think anyone can get use to waking up to." She murmured grumpily.

Desmond let out an indigant snort before he sat up and shed his wolfish form. Bits of dirt and dead leaves pokes out of his hair as he sat there, and he ruffled it out with his hands.

"Feelin' better?" he asked.

"Well I am glad I didn't eat your arm off this time." She admitted. "No worse for wear, at least."

She sat in silence for a few long moments as she pondered his question. She honestly was glad she hadn't hurt Desmond. It was obvious they scuffled, but she still had no memory of what happened. But the important thing was, she shifted on her own will.

When she answered, she still hesitated to give it. "I feel.. Less like I'm going to explode at any moment. Less stressed." She admitted. "But.."

She looked up to the sky. "It still hasn't answered the questions swimming around in my head. So that pressure is still there, nagging me that the weight will return." She looked over to Desmond. "That make any sense?"
 
as written by Tiko and Knosis

"You need to get yourself into a routine," Desmond said. "If you an' the wolf are out of synch, 'tis going to muck up everythin' else in your life too."

He leaned back on his hands to watch her while they talked.

"This isn't a one-off fix. 'ow many years 'ave you kept that side of you locked up every night? It'll tear you up if you don't let it out now an' again. You need to get out for a run at least once a month, once a week if you can manage it. Once you sort yourself out an' find that balance, I think you'll find the answer to those questions that be troublin' you."

She knew his question was hypothetical, but still she answered. She felt the need to anyway. "Seven." She said. "Well. The first year, I don't remember much anyway. I was always in and out of conciousness so often, I wondered if I was truly dead and I'd just gone to some hell." She murmured. She leaned back, remembering.

"That first year was the worst after the attack. I had nearly been slashed in half. My shoulder wasn't attached and the doctors had done their best to put me back together. But the fever.. My god the fever never went down." She trailed off for a moment, her eyes far off.

"That first year.. I accidently killed every single person who ever meant anything to me." She admitted. "Went down in the books as, 'revenge killings' for the PD I had been working with. They couldn't prove it was me, but they couldn't prove it wasn't. So they let me go." She shrugged. "After that.. Well.." She touched some of the scars on her wrists. "Lets just say I know how hard it is to kill me."

She looked at Desmond, her eyes focusing back on the present once more. "So.. Its going to take some time to understand all of this, when it has already torn me up.."
 
as written by Tiko and Knosis

"What 'appened wasn't your fault," Desmond told her. "You didn't choose this. It's easier for those of us who were born into it. But I think that's enough for today. Come on, let's head back. It'll take us a while to make the walk back to the city."

He gestured over her shoulder to where a familiar tree was felled across the trail up ahead. Through their romping it would seem he had managed to bring them full circle.

He knew she was still a long ways away from being in full enough control of herself to be safe around people, and he intended to have her back to the city before it got too late.

She slowly stood, brushing off leaves and dirt off her skin. "You know.. I'll be glad when I can at least remember something from when I transformed.." She picked a stick from her hair. "This waking up thing can be a bit.. Unsettling."

She pulled on her shoes after getting dressed and bit her lip. "You're part of my problem, Desmond." She stood up and started walking back the way they had come haphazardly. "Part of why I am so conflicted." She turned frowned at him. "I've got to make a choice soon. And you know it as well as I."
 
as written by Tiko

Desmond watched Chloe getting dressed, having not yet made any move himself to get up, and his brow was furrowed at her words. It was almost as if I didn't quite know what to say to that.

He finally shook his head.

"There isn't any choice that you need to make that won't keep well enough 'til you're good an' ready to make it," he told her.

He finally got up to join her as she seemed to be waiting for him, and let her lead the way once he was finished getting dressed.
 
as written by Emperor Jester and Tiko

The forest was silent now, at least compared to several minutes ago. Three women had been brought here only hours past. During that time, they'd been mutilated and despoiled, ruined beyond compare if even they were to survive. At the center of the carnage sat a veritable giant of a man, though demon was more apt, considering his appetites. Covered head to toe in sweet, crimson sanguine, Nox sat there.

Snapping through bone with jaws of death.

Slurping down strips of flesh.

Handfuls of blood gulped down like an alcoholic would a beer.

Around him were tattered remains. Entrails, limbs, segments of flesh, clothing ripped to shreds. Around him cried the souls of his victims, or at least thats how the Caer liked to imagine it. He hoped that every life he ever took was nearby, watching him grow stronger with every kill, knowing that their rest would only come with his destruction. Let them watch, the spectres of his past kills. It excited Nox. Still, this was hardly what he would call a home, a part of the forest with a dug out fox den for a sleeping chamber. It was incredibly hard to keep his white coat clean, but he'd done his best. During the slaughter, he'd stashed it away somewhere else, another home, one more suited for humans. Drier, cleaner. With a chortle, he popped a beautiful golden-hazel eye between his fangs before snapping them like a bear trap, letting out a moan at the wonderful taste of virgin blood and flesh. Tonight had been an amazing haul for him...

____

It was through the haze of his wanton gluttony that her voice came to him, a soft whisper on the wind. Like a sirens call, it beckoned him to come to her, to join her beneath the silver moonlight that filtered down through the trees to illuminate the dead like some macabre art piece.

"God will save his fallen angels, and their broken wings he'll mend... When he draws their hearts together, and they learn to love again. All their sins will be forgiven, in the twinkle of an eye..."

The lyrical melody held a captivating lure to it, and should Nox pursue it to its source he would find Sanina kneeling there within the forest running her hand over the chest of a massive wolf.

There was nothing remotely natural about the animal, and a luminescent green light burned within its undead eyes. Upon its back a set of bat-like wings had been grafted to the animal, and where its saliva fell, the grass withered and died.

____

Nox tensed for a moment, unsure of the source. The mention of a god instantly made him paranoid, perhaps some zealot from the church had gotten his trail. Some religious extremist, bent on making a name for themselves by slaying the last Caer. But then, through his paranoia and blood filled senses came the clarity to remember the voice.

And the captivating female behind it. Nox did indeed follow the sound, not caring to move silently or discretely. He simply walked there, leaves and twigs crunching wetly beneath his sanguine covered boots. He brought with him a gift however, an uneaten, unspoiled heart, still dripping, twitching, in his clawed hand. It would be for her, as a man should always bring a woman a gift, especially on a moonlit night. With his ancient and powerful voice, Nox soon stood nearby, a thin smile on his lips. "Hello, Sanina."

____

"Such ravenous appetites," she mused softly. "To have been caged so long."

It was difficult to say if she speaking of the animal before her, or the crimson coated abomination that lingered at her back.

Her hand fell away from the wolf and it turned and padded off into the woods without a look back.

"You have brought me a gift?" she inquired

She tilted her head inquisitively, but she didn't rise to face him. She seemed comfortable and at ease in his presence enough to not grow guarded by his arrival. Perhaps she had even anticipated it.

____

With a nod, he strolled forward and placed the heart in her hands before retreating back to sit down across from her. The only part of him that wasn't red, one shade or another, were his blue eyes. So blue and cold, filled with an undead light, and his eyes would never leave hers once he found them.

"Of course. This is what I'm used to. Not fifty years of hiding. I have to make up for lost time, lost blood." Nox calmly explained, "I have some news for you. Though I'm sure you've already heard some of it." Then, with narrowing eyes and a growing smile. "Perhaps even the whole story."

____

The heart withered within her palms, decaying before his eyes as she held it. "News?" she inquired. "Our plans proceed as expected then?"

She lay the withered heart upon the ground as her fingertips reached instead for his chest where they brushed across the blood still hot on his skin.

As before when she had lain her hands upon him at her manor home, the prickling sensation of her necrotic touch gave the sensation of some dead thing crawling beneath his skin, but the sensation was fleeting enough.

As she withdrew her hand she brought her fingers to her lips, brushing the blood upon them - the smallest of tastes.

"Regale me with stories of your success... and of the city. I wish to hear... everything."

She envied him his wanton displays of carnage, but for now her place was in the shadows.

____

"While it is hard for me to get general news, even from the shadows, I have acquired a girl to do that for me. She was part of a hunting team sent by House Sylvestre." He paused at her touch, so soft, so much killing power, and it made him shiver, though not just for any one reason.

"I broke her mind. She belongs to me now, for the time people. She'll keep tabs, run messages, report to me. On a thought, I could break her beyond repair, and I still might, but she's proven useful for now."

He then indicated to his form, as if just remembering. With choked laughter, Nox's eyes glowed stronger with his words. "I've been making quite a mess, you see? Leaving my house mark wherever I go. The city will remember my family soon. Word will spread and the fear will creep back into the streets!" He seemed happy beyond words now, almost giddy.

____

Sanina was pleased. Among the carnage Nox was causing, no one would notice the occasional disappearances as she bolstered her own house numbers. Though a house full of youngsters wouldn't stand a chance against the might of House Sylvestre...

She hadn't yet confided her intentions with the werewolves to Nox, but soon perhaps. He had proven himself trustworthy, and his assistance had proven an invaluable asset.

"Tell me of the packs?" she asked. "The ones that make their home within the city."

She lay down upon the soft earth, her head resting upon one arm as she watched him. She looked like she belonged in some Victorian painting as she rested there languidly, her visage one of innocence even as the foliage beneath her wilted and died. It was as if she were an anathema to life itself.

____

"The Bloodstones and the Scions have been causing a war in the street as well. A lot of chaos around Lupaix, a lot of it focused on the casino. Full on riots and gang wars. I'm not the only one causing a large scale distraction. Thats about all I know of them though. For the most part, I've been dodging around at night, moving slowly out of the city. Sporadic, making sure not to leave a pattern. "

A pause as he gazed at her. Something in Nox found Sanina absolutely fascinating, and Nox was never one for subtlety. "Truth be told, the werewolves are a faction I had completely forgotten about until recently. I've been fighting a desire to meet with them, any of them, but I don't believe Father had a good relationship with any of the clan leaders of past. I doubt they'd trust his heir."

Nox didn't need the beasts, but they might prove useful. The lycans had always been powerful warriors, and in taking down the accursed Sylvestre there would need to be fodder in the front lines.

____

"Would you be a dear, and find out what you can for me about these... Bloodstone and Scions?" she asked. "Make no attempt to contact them though, not yet."

She picked up the decayed heart from where she had set it upon the ground, examining it with all the inquisitiveness of a child.

"But first, tell me about your kills?" she asked. "What is it like... to feed as you do."

____

"Its glorious ecstasy. I truly can't describe it, but it thrills me beyond words, and I'd do it an injustice. I feel pity for those among our kind who can dine on blood and blood alone, who never feel the invigorating shiver as one gulps down flesh and bone." Nox explained, raising his hand to his face, examining it.

"Some people call it barbaric at best, or at worst, the definition of insanity and meaningless slaughter. Those critics on my family's eat habits are just mistaken. Its a dance of pain and blood, and almost nothing satisfies me more." His eyes became suggestive as the prodigal son of Caer gave her form a look over.

"It does make a mess however. That is the one downside I could see being universally negative. Aside from that however..."

____

Sanina sat up slowly, still lounging slightly to one side as she looked at Nox.

"Do you trust me?" she asked him.

____

It was a loaded question. On one hand, she'd been a more active and reliable ally than he'd ever known. On the other hand, trust does not come easy to the undead, let alone the Caer.

"Of course. I trust you as much as I can afford to, given our talks and shared goals. Why do you ask?" Nox questioned in kind, one eye brow raised in curiosity.

____

Sanina slowly extended a hand out to Nox, palm up, an invitation for him to take it.

"May I?" she inquired.

____

Politely cautious, he laid his hand in hers, almost laughing at the difference in size. Her hand seemed so delicate next to his, but once joined, he felt a strength there, a darkness.

"May I inquire to the purpose of this...?"

____

"I wish to... see... as you see," she explained. "If you would entertain such fanciful notions with a glimpse."

The necrotic nature of her touch was as expected, and his flesh crawled beneath her touch as she moved the other hand towards the side of his face, her eyes finding his own.

There was a hypnotic weight to her crimson eyes, and to the lyrical sound of her voice, but she kept it at bay should he find aversion to her request.

____

Nox did not quite understand, but he felt something at work here. Something almost familiar to him, something he felt like he should know. Still, he made no moves to stop her.

In truth, he welcomed it. If she meant as he assumed she did, this might be similar to browsing his memories, recent or long gone. To most, this might be troubling, as no one wise wished to be an open book. But if she wanted to see through his eyes, his glory, triumph, and power, Nox welcomed her to it.

____

As he let her in she stripped away the veil that lay behind her eyes and her power filled Nox with a sickening caress. The earlier brush had offered only a glimpse of what lay beneath, and her imprisonment at the hands of Riaze had not gone wasted. Each and every life Riaze had taken had swelled her own power, and what Nox felt filling him was ancient... far more ancient than her youth should have made possible.

She hummed softly and the sound of it reached deep, permeating each layer of Nox's mind as it coaxed him towards a trance with its hypnotic lure.

The memories of his nights kills passed through his mind, but it was distant as if he were the observer watching it play out from afar. The taste of the blood, the tearing of flesh, and the fracturing of bones... it was all there at Sanina's fingertips as the veins beneath his skin began to blacken from her touch.

There was nothing hostile in her actions, but neither were they entirely without lingering effects.

To delve so deep would leave traces of her passing, lingering seeds of her taint upon his psyche. The traces were so light as to be near non-existent and yet some part of him would find an affinity with her power in the days to come. Some part of him would recognize her touch, recognize the softness of her voice within his mind.

The corruption that snaked its way through his veins began to edge its way towards his heart, and he would feel the brush of lethality that lay within her fingertips, but she withdrew her hand lest she do any permanent harm from the prolonged contact.

He would experience a sinking sensation as the veil between thought and action faded away leaving him in control of his senses once more.

Sanina's brow furrowed to one of concern as she hovered her hand just above his skin where the angry black lines spread outward like spider webs. They were already beginning to fade though.

"Did I harm you?" she asked.

The concern laced within the words seemed genuine.

_____

Nox remained calm throughout the entire procedure. At least, he would've liked for this claim to be true. It was for the most part. During his youthful days, receiving training and tutelage in the ways of reading and controlling the minds and memories of others, he'd experienced many things like this before. It wasn't new to him. Nor was the sensation of a new presence in his thoughts, even those of the past. Delving into memories, watching them like they were happening before one's eyes, implanting one's self into another's perceived reality. Nox knew the feeling of all these things.

But then. The cold hand of death. Squeezing at his core for the briefest of moments. The Caer's eyes shot wide, filled with rage, terror, self doubt, genuine fear. Nothing had ever made him feel close to the eternal, true sleep before. It took all of his self control to not lash out. A part of him wanted to rip her head from her shoulders. His pride, his most cherished possession, had shrunk back, a frightened child.

A tall child for his age. With black hair as long and soft as a starless sky. With bright blue eyes. Crying, soiled, tucked into a corner of an ancient home, one of blood and fear. Begging for it to stop. He wanted his mother and father. His real parents. He almost screamed. This forgotten memory hidden deep in the darkest corners of his mind sprang forth like a viper and bit down hard on his withered soul.

Nox fell away from her with a soft whimper, the beast replaced with a boy, if only momentarily, his chest heaving hard despite no need of breath.

He was silent.

____

Sanina's concern did not abate and doubt found it way into her own mind. Had her whimsy led her to push too far, too fast?

She withdrew her hand as he fell away, and her eyes followed the trail of black corruption that had snaked its way beneath his flesh as it slowly continued to fade.

No, this wasn't caused by her necrotic touch. Not directly anyways.

Whatever ailed Nox came from within, and her concern turned to the briefest of frowns as she stood and stepped back from him, almost as if she had been exposed to something repulsive.

She turned away, resting one hand on the trunk of a tree as she stood with her back to him

____

After a brief moment, Nox himself also stood, already pushing that memory deep back below the surface, where it belonged. Brushing himself off, he once more stood tall and proud. He'd always been a Caer. His father was Securis Caeruleum. His mother was Amara Caeruleum. His brothers and sisters beyond count. Or were.

'Focus, Nox.' He thought to himself. 'Remember your mission. Your goal. Revenge and resurgence. The destruction of those above you, and the rebirth of your family. You cannot surrender yet.

Finally, he spoke, his eyes filled with a dim, blue light. "No permanent harm done. I apologize for my sudden...lack of decorum, Sanina."

____

"The error was my own," Sanina answered gently as she heard him standing at her back. "I should return to the manor... you will seek me out when you find the information I require?" she asked.

____

"Of course. Then by your leave, we both depart. I'll continue my...activities. And of course, keep tabs on the various clans, as you requested." With a low bow, Nox too turned his back to her, beginning his departure. Flakes of now dried blood falling from his giant form like crimson snow as his figure once more vanished into the pitch blackness of the woods
 
as written by Ronin

He came from the west through a clearing in the trees, flurries of dust and bark leaping behind the tread of his motorcycle. He was armed in plates of close-knit steel which had gleamed once but were now bruised with mud and grime and the shit of beasts. The scent of sweat leaked through the lines in his armor like oven fumes. All was clad save his jaw where the bands of metal squared beneath his nose around his lips. His mouth was dusted and scabbed and drawn into a tight, bloodless grimace. Before him the village of Carseau smoldered.

He kicked his bike into a begrudging rumble and bore it down a long grass hill where he saw the body of a man, face-down, hands death-gripping great fistfuls of soil. Little shards of frayed purple pierced his hamstrings and the edges of his spine where maggots frothed in the bloated flesh. The line of crushed, darkened grass trailing him from the outskirts of town showed that he had crawled nearly half a mile before succumbing to his injuries.

The bike grumbled closer and its rider beheld the hamlets and little townhouses all blistered and charcoaled. The fire had burned through the town for two days without ceasing before it reached the edges of the brook and suffocated itself. Now only a few homes still smoked. On the blackened wall of the closest cottage was a woman crucified by the same purple tendrils. Her eyes glazed breathlessly out of her rotted sockets and watched the traveler pass with exasperated stillness. The rider regarded her once and moved deeper into Carseau.

Bodies putrefied the streets – all ages, all stations. A farmer slumped beheaded over the wagon of chaffy hay he had brought into town to sell. On the steps of a nearby tavern a bulbous man in a fur coat lay with both arms cut from his shoulders. His belly had been sliced at the middle and the curdles of lard and intestine lay rotting in the open air. The rider kept moving and found the severed arm clutched by a gutted woman in a silk gown not thirty feet from the tavern. She had died smothering her face into its elbow. Not far off, a shopkeeper and three youths wearing matching aprons stood spitted on spears of magenta. The shafts piked between their thighs and exited from their mouths where they gaped into the sky dumbstruck.

In the deeper villages the cruelty became an art form. On every corner some abomination greeted the rider, the contorted jokes of corpses arranged and displayed as if exhibited to an audience. A man’s arms and legs had been severed and replaced with four different screaming heads. An elder lay pinned by a tendril to a fencepost where he had been skinned from his neck to his waist and the porous flesh sloughed off his bones and festered in the naked sun. Two stripped youths rotted over one another as if in coitus but the boy had no hands and the girl no eyes and he lay slumped over her in a fit of exhaustion like a spent lover. At the edge of the square a girl of four years lay impaled through the heart on a purple spear and her outstretched hands clutched a cotton effigy of Saint Selene whom she had thrust forward in her last moments to protect her.

The rider saw all of this. He observed each spectacle in muted reserve, watching, acknowledging, but moving. Always moving. He moved through the rank of decay and the clouds of flies breeding in the flesh of the dead. He moved past blood-specked doorways broken at the middle and the driblets of charred gore lining into the darkness of buildings where whole families had been slaughtered in their homes. He moved without slowing through the murdered town of Carceau, through the mangled bodies of sixty-two men, forty-seven women and thirteen children, stopping only at its eastern border over the slumped figure of a final corpse.

The last was a boy, young. In his hand was a little fletching knife with initials carving the hilt. Great gashes chewed his arms and legs and his bony hips – he had suffered before he passed.

Wordlessly, the rider dismounted and walked to the body and knelt at his side and looked into the eyes of the dead boy. They were without cowardice. Brows furrowed. Eyes, striking blue even beneath a milky film, ripe with strength, with indignation, with the kind of honest, shameless fear that breeds the truest sort of valor. Even now they glared defiantly into oblivion, challenging the death that had already taken him. Even now he fought.

The rider gently rested the knife from the boy’s hands and tucked it into his belt. He rose and lifted his visored eyes to the cliffs above the tree line where a cave gaped into the shadow of the mountainside.

He mounted again and left the town of Carseau behind him, treading his cycler through the forest brush and powering its mammoth tires up the cliffside. It took him two hours to scale the mountain. Behind him the sun had already touched the cloudline and the meridian soaked in blood whereabove the sky dissolved into the darkest shade of blue. The rider dismounted his bike and regarded the dwindling sunset before turning to the mouth of the cave and looked into the blackness echoing into the rock. He drew his sword. From his belt came a small flat disc which he twisted, and a brilliant light shone from it. He fixed the light to his pommel and stepped into the jaws of the cave and spoke clear and true into the black.

“Come,” he said. His strong voice echoed off the cisterns and jagged acoustics of the cavern and twisted in the spires of stone and copper perforating the abyss. “Come” his voice returned to him in a clotted, hissing croak. “Come come come”

He nodded and walked forward, light shimmering against an envelope of black until he had gone too far from the mouth to be seen, until the shadows festering in the cave swallowed him whole.

Into the darkness, the Paladin came.
 
as written by Sentry and Ronin

There was hardly a sound out of the dense blackness that attempted to stifle the Paladin. Droplets of water slid down toothy stalagmites and plopped onto their counterparts. Each footstep echoed with a painful racket that disturbed the peace of the cave. The wind feathered the entrance and whistled. For the longest time, no other sound seemed to exist. Soon enough, however-

Squish.

It was subtle at first. Easily mistaken for a misstep into cave mud. But then, a second time! Squelching, cracking... a soft, indistinct growl. A pitter patter of rain from above. It only took one glance upward for the Paladin to end his search.

Funny, how the first thing the paladin would see was a pair of very pale feet. Above that, legs, a torso, and a head hidden within the confines of a nightmare's maw.

In no way was the creature delightful or natural. It wasn't beautiful even by the standards of monsters. Its skin was a patchwork of rot, eyes filmed over and slit, turned vertical. One arm was shriveled and blackened, as though by flame, and its jaw unhinged by its ears to fit the body within its inflated gullet. A myriad of dark tendrils oozed from its back and latched onto the cave walls, keeping it aloft.

Upon seeing the Paladin, the creature reared back, and with a mighty splutter ejected the body at him, oiled in foul digestive fluids.

____

The Paladin looked upwards, following the droplets of gore to the vaulted ceiling of the cave. The light outlined the murderer and its latest victim for the briefest of moments. He looked at it - visored eyes betraying nothing, his exposed mouth twitching into a small, hateful grit. Here was the monster. Here was the dark.

His hand was already halfway to his belt when the beast reared, launching the putrid corpse out of its maw towards him. Swiftly backhanding his blade, the Paladin turned and rolled across the floor with surprising quickness given the encumberment of his armor. A wet smack echoed through the caves as the half-digested body hit stone. The Paladin's free hand shot to his hip mid-roll, his lawkeeper freed and ready just as he found his feet. The weapon snapped upwards, the light from his pommel re-aligning in the space the monster had been. If it was still there, he would shoot it - firing three .40 caliber rounds directly into the beast's face.

If not, he would stay at-ready, pistol on his right hand, sword in his left, shining his light into the black and listening for the creature's approach.

____

The monster had dropped down from its perch as the paladin hopped out of the way of the thrown body. Tendrils at its back rocketed over its head in the direction of the paladin, looking to pierce his armor to reach the flesh beneath. The movement was unnaturally swift, but possible to follow.

____

The frayed tendrils whipped towards him with surprising speed, forcing the paladin on the defensive. He threw his left shoulder forward, meeting the sharp spikes with the armoured surface of his pauldron. As they struck, he twirled his blade in his hand, bringing it around in a single, swift motion to intercept the striking tendrils at their midpoint. If successful, he would sever them, blade singing as it cut the attacking ropes clean in half.

He would waste no time in returning to the offensive. He changed stances again, back handing his blade and bringing up his Lawkeeper with trained swiftness. No sooner would the creature be in his iron sights then would the knight unleash a flurry of rounds, aimed for its torso. The roar of gunfire echoed through the caverns like hollow thunder.

Any tendrils below his belt, however, may have found their mark. Though it would be difficult to pierce his plate armor, he could be grappled or ensnared.

____

As the paladin's sword ripped through the tendrils that attempted to pierce his armor, the creature launched itself into the air and folded a wave of tendrils over its body. The bullets pierced deep, severing many of the threads she spun, but it slowed all but two that landed in her hip. With an eerie wail, she skittered across the ceiling and shot herself behind the paladin, the tendrils that she wrapped herself with catapulting from its knot to bowl over her opponent.

____

"Ughn!" the paladin grunted, knocked off his feet by the creature's attack. His Lawkeeper flew out of his hand and skittered away into the darkness. He was on his back, the creature atop him.

Grunting, he brought his sword in for a sweep against the monster's torso, attempting to wound it before it had a chance to pin him. His legs shuffled to create distance, trying to free his foot so that he could stomp his heel into the creature's chest and kick it away.

____

The sword only managed to lessen the thicket of thready limbs that had bowled him down. However, the kick landed its target, and the creature stumbled back. Sprawling her arms, she regained her balance and spun one of her tentaclelike appendages onto a column, another toward the Paladin's wrist, holding the sword.

____

Flexing against the slimy tendril gripping his sword arm, the paladin moved - not away from - but towards the beast, diving the tip of his blade forward into the stretching mass and attempting to severe it.

If successful, he would charge the creature, thrusting his blade into the mass of writhing pseudo-limbs, attempting to penetrate into the creature beneath.

____

Though his bind was severed, the monster was far too agile to be caught by the blatant charge. Lifting herself up to the ceiling once more, the Paladin's target skulked away into the dark, her feelers draped across the floor, taking the fallen gun with her.

The path she lead down was steep and slick with water. There was hardly a path through the numerous columns below.

But there was the gun, hanging by a thread, ever so slowly being pulled into the dark.

____

The paladin growled, watching his primary firearm slide across the stone floor into the darkness. She was mocking him. His Lawkeeper had been his best offensive tool against the beast. With only his sword, he had lost a huge advantage.

He knew better then to sprint forward on a wet, uneven surface to try and retrieve it. Instead, he followed her with steady, careful footing, the light of his blade illuminating the twisting pathway before him. He would remain alert, cautious for any chance of sound or movement other than the scrape of his pistol on the floor.

____

As he followed the rocky path deeper into the belly of the cave, he would find it wasn't going to be uneventful. From the shadows, something bulleted for the Paladin's head. It blurred by him and pierced the ground- a familiar sight from the village. A purple lacelike object.

No sooner had the first been launched did the second come towards the Paladin's chest.

____

The paladin's head snapped to the shard of purple, his pupils dialiting beneath his visor. Shit. He barely saw the second one shoot from the shadows, and had just enough time to angle his torso, allowing the amythest spear to glance off of his chest plate rather than impale itself dead-on in the steel. A loud clang reverberated through the room, a large dent surfacing on his cuirass. Had he not turned, it would have penetrated.

Grunting, the paladin swiftly took cover behind one of the columns. Only now did he realize his position. The creature had ranged capabilities - and with the light fixed to his pommel, knew exactly where he was at all times.

He began to move - winding through the forest of stone columns, keeping his ear trained for the monster following him.

____

At times the path would widen or thin, putting the pally in a dangerous position, having to squeeze a bit between tight walls or low ceilings. The journey did not last him very long past these obstacles.

The gun was carried into a large chamber, lifted, then plopped inside a small gaping hole in the wall. Something that the chamber itself was lined with. It carried the similarity of a beehive with its design; something that wasn't at all natural to the cave.

And to greet him, a lance from the ceiling, whistling as it fell.

____

The paladin stopped at the entrance to the room, shining his light around the strange honeycomb chamber. He saw his pistol in one of the spaces. Bait. Now where was the trap-

The spear struck his side, penetrating the steel, kevlar and nanofoam, drawing blood at his hip. The paladin growled in pain and swung with the impact, but - without missing a beat - wrenched the lance from his body with his free hand, shone his light upwards in the direction it'd come from and twirled the spear in his fingers, couching it on his pauldron. He had a javelin at-ready. If he caught sight of the monster, he would throw.

Hit or no, he would endeavor to keep his light trained on the beast. It lived in a dark cave; it probably had low-light vision. Prolonged exposure to a high intensity beam might drive it off and give him a chance to retrieve his pistol.

____

Sounds from the thing's skittering in the maze of tunnels reverberated from the walls and mislead its true position. It wasn't a dumb creature: it knew exactly what it was doing.

Seeing that the Paladin was struck, it sent out yet another lance from his back, but didn't pause there. Making it quickly to higher ground it leaped from one of the orifices itself to wail down on its target.

____

The second lance struck as the paladin reeled from the first, his body turned against it. As such, it struck arguably the most armored part of his body - his pauldron. The spear penetrated two layers of steel but was unable to wretch past the kevlar, sticking in his shoulder like a gargantuan splinter.

With sword in one hand and makeshift javelin in the other, the paladin's light caught the beast just as it lunged against him. He leaped back just as it landed, its tendrils whipping through the space he just occupied and slamming into the floor.

The knight wasted no time. It was in close-quarters. Now was his chance. He lunged forward with a two fold attack - a feint to its head with the magenta spear, intended to be blocked - followed by a swift slash to the monster's leg, intended to strike true. He would slip around the monster with careful footwork, not wanting to get too close to the abomination's grappling tendrils but neither wanting to give too much room to escape. All he had was a sword. Melee was his best option.
 
as written by Ronin, SerinaBloom, and glmstr

"Let's hope it's just you," Jonas said. They were in the thick of the forest now. Long twisting branches extended overhead and darkened the sun. The calls of foreign animals chittered from the shadows just beyond their line of sight. Leaves rustled, twigs snapped.

"Look, up ahead," Jonas pointed to a small clearing. The side of an overturned wagon was visible from behind a spiny thicket. The paladin powered his bike through the brush - mammoth tires pulverizing the barrier of vegetation - hopefully followed by his two companions.

It was a massacre. Corpses slumped over the grass and the sides of the splintered wagon, putrifying, their flesh bloated and swarmed with flies. Strange lash marks covered their limbs and torsos, cutting great clean gashes into their bodies. It was as if they'd been whipped to death. Some of the crates from the wagon had been torn open - namely the food barrels - with many of the contents missing. The cargo was otherwise intact, including several boxes containing precious jewelry.

"What do you think happened here?" Jonas looked around, asking of both Crista and Aurelie.

____

Crista powered her bike forward close behind Jonas. When the path was cleared by the tires to reach the clearing Crista was both shocked and sickened by what she saw. She went a bit pail and covered her mouth. When Jonas posed his question she swallowed and composed herself. "I don't know."

____

"I'm suspecting garoux. Vampires would have drained their blood and taken the jewelry, many of the local Houses are quite extravagant with whatever wealth they can acquire," Aurelie stepped towards the wreckage and crouched over one of the bodies, turning the corpse over a few times to look at the damage, as well as collect a drop of blood on her finger. She briefly lifted her mask and smelled the red drop, before lowering her mask again and putting small samples from most of the corpses into glass vials.
"We should try to attract the assailants back here, have any raw meat or anything similar? Garoux wouldn't eat these bodies any more, they've already rotted beyond being edible. The stench is quite repulsive, even through this mask."

____

"Perhaps," Jonas answered, "though these lash marks don't look like claw scratches or bite marks. None of them look eaten either - just killed." He kicked over one of the bodies with his boot, stepping down to examine the corpse. "This one has what looks like rope marks around her neck. She was strangled with... something... Before she died."

Jonas looked over at Crista. "What do you think, sister? Is this the work of wolves?"

____

Crista looked stared at the bodies, her expression crinkling in disgust at the scene. Inwardly she was thankful to see the lack of teeth or claw marks on the bodies. Taking in what she saw of the wounds she looked away.

"I've seen plenty of work from wolves and this looks nothing like that. Sad to say it's likely the work of human bandits."

____

The hunter paced around the scene of the crime, hoping to find a clue or at least prompt something to show its face.
"What kind of bandits flay the people, then only take the food and leave the valuables behind? I've heard rumors of people going mad and attacking others in the forest, but I just assumed it was idle hearsay," she twirled one of her daggers idly around her pointer finger and glanced to the others.

____

"Not wolves, and not bandits," Jonas mused, "at least, not any sane humans." He looked at one of the food barrels. The wood had been ripped apart, the food inside savaged as if eaten directly from its container. "Hm. What about..."

A loud cracking resounded to their right, and a massive wolf leaped from behind a tree. He stood on his four legs in a low crouch, fur bristled, fangs barred. He was inflicted with the same wounds that the corpses around him, deep lash marks lining his hide in bloody strips. He kept pressure off his right hindleg.

The werewolf stayed where it was, growling, but not attacking. Jonas stepped back immediately, hand reaching for his Lawkeeper.

"By Selene!" he swore, preparing to draw.

____

"Wait..."

Crista quickly raised her free hand, stopping Jonas for a moment. She could see from the way the werewolf was carrying itself that it was severely injured. It's right hind leg looked broken or at the very least sprained and seeing as it carried the same wounds as the victims here Crista doubted it was the culprit. She whispered to Jonas.

"This werewolf has the same injuries as the people here and if it was the one behind it, it would have attacked us by now."

____

Aurelie connected the hooks in her blades and flicked her wrist sharply, whipping the left dagger in an arc around the right one and locking into place as a single weapon again. She carefully grips the handle of her pistol and slowly approaches the wolf, still cautious of what the creature might do next.
"Well, what possibly could have attacked it AND the shipment?"

____

Jonas blinked at Crista. "Sister, are you sure? Look at it! It's clearly hostile."

The beast took an unsteady step to the left, fangs still barred. It looked between the three hunters, ears perking slightly in confusion. Why hadn't they attacked already?

Jonas rested his hand on the grip of his Lawkeeper but didn't draw. He watched the wolf with clear disgust. "What do you propose we do then, Crista?"

____

"I can take care of this one."

Crista continued to hold her sword as she took a steady step closer to the werewolf, but in a way that she hoped possed no threat to the creature. She had dealt with several instances like this before. All that needed to be done was for one to stay calm. Werewolves and other supernatural beings who were still sane at least, are just as concerned with survival as humans are and Crista had reached that level of understanding.

____

Aurelie slowly drew her weapon, holding her cape over it with her other hand to keep the wolf from seeing that the barrel was pointed directly at it. She wasn't planning to fire, but her finger was ready just in case the wolf tried to bite.

____

The wolf growled at the first step, but as Crista continued forward without making any threatening gestures, it stopped grumbling. Though he made no movements towards the advancing paladin, his bristled fur went down. He took a few cautious backsteps, still unsure what to make of the warrioress. A low whine escaped his throat as he accidentally stepped down with his right hind leg.

Jonas was keeping his eye on Crista, half worried that the beast would jump on his partner at any given moment. He looked down at the nearby corpse, brows furrowing as he noticed a symbol etched into its thigh. He'd missed it on his initial examination.

"Even if he didn't kill these people, what's a garoux doing here, in a condition like this?" Jonas shook his head.

____

Crista was a mere five feet from the werewolf now and she was reaching her free hand out to him, the hand that had been stroking the patch of werewolf fur in her pocket. She whispered to the werewolf in order to hush it and calm it down.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

____

"Well, we still haven't found what even did this yet," Aurelie began to idly wander around the scene, keeping an eye out for anything else that's still alive.

____

With the words, the wolf lowered its guard, the anger leaving its body with a weary huff. Extending its neck towards the knight, it allowed itself to be petted.

"Hm," Jonas grunted, "didn't expect that." He walked up behind Crista, eyeing the garoux suspiciously.

"You there," he nodded at the wolf, "why are you here? Did you see who killed all these people?"

The wolf slunk away from Jonas, retreating closer to Crista. Behind Aurelie, one of the corpses twitched violently.

____

"Everyone, watch out! Something's wrong with the corpses!" Aurelie leapt onto the twitching corpse and pinned its arms down with her knees, holding her blade to its neck and the pistol to its forehead.
"If you can still think, tell me now before I pull this trigger," the hunter growled at the thrashing body underneath her

____

Crista pet the top of the wolf's head gently and scratched behind his ear, making sure to avoid touching any injuries. He attention turned though to the twitching corpse down the slope near all the rest. Her eyes widened.

"Look behind you!"

____

The corpse's only response was a clotted moan, craning its head upright, it glared at Aurelie with milky eyes ... before spewing a line of projectile vomit out of its mouth.

The other corpses began to stir as well, each body croaking in agony as their dumb limbs forced themselves off the ground into slouched, upright positions. There were ten of them.

"Well goodness me. This is a surprise..." a low, smooth voice resounded from the shadows. A man stepped out of the shadows, smiling a devilish grin. He wore a simple blazer with puffy slacks tucked into boots. In his fingers he twirled an ebony cane adorned with a silver skull.

He looked between the three hunters and the wolf, eyes flashing with delight. "Two paladins and something out of the plague." He chuckled, a pleasant, joyful sound. "My my, what a curious little party you are." He bowed low. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Eledin Crawley." He spread out his hands, gesturing to the newly animated corpses.

"And this is my family."

____

"Well Mr Crawley, you better start giving answers before I put your 'family' back in the ground," Aurelie fired her gun into the head of the creature below her and stood up, wiping off some viscera from her coat and cocking her pistol again. She twirled her sword into a reverse-grip hold, and pointed her firearm at the necromancer.

____

Crista now had her sword drawn, in defense against the necromancer and the corpses. She stood in front of her werewolf companion, knowing his injuries where likely cause by this man.

____

The bullet splattered the zombie's brains. Crawley only laughed. "I wouldn't speak so disparagingly of my family, little missy. You're about to become a part of it."

Jonas stepped forward, drawin his Lawkeeper and aiming it at the necromancer. "Eledin Crawley, in the name of Saint Selene and the state of Lutetia, you're under arrest for the suspected murder of..."

"Suspected," the necromancer scoffed. He walked forward, twirling his cane in his fingers, "let's not stand on formality here, paladin. I killed them all, made them into something better than they were." He grinned. "You should be thanking me."

Jonas' grip tightened. "If you admit to it, the what's stopping me from blowing your brains out right here?"

The necromancer perked a brow. "Why... this."

At that moment, the zombies lunged - not the slow, stupid lumbering typical of most undead, but focused, dexterous movements. Five of them went straight for Aurelie, roaring, attempting to dog-pile her and rip her limb from limb. The other five came for Jonas, Crista and the wolf, circling them before charging forward. They thrust their limbs out, attempting to grab the paladins and pull them to the ground.

____

Crista immediately targeted the heads and arms of the zombies, slicing and decapitating them with a broad sweep of her blade. The viscera didn't bother her at the moment but she didn't have time to be repulsed as she had to fight them off for her partner and her animal companion.

____

Aurelie gasped for a moment, instinctively thrusting her weapon into the nearest zombie and firing her gun once at the necromancer, before holstering it and reaching her other hand to grip her blade. She then split the blades handles and wrenched the wicked hooked blades from the innards of the zombie, kicking the now-mangled zombie away like a fleshy door ripped from its hinges. An undead hand managed to grab her shoulder as she attempted to escape, but she simply grabbed its arm and yanked the mindless undead to the ground on top of her, breaking the creatures fall with her daggers as gravity impaled the monster onto her weapons.
The hunter rolled over and stood up, tearing her bloodied tools from the zombie's torso and reconnecting them into their larger curved-sword shape.
"You've got to do better than that, I thought you were going to at least be competent at your craft," she sneered at the man in the suit, "I could have hired a child off the street to practice necromancy better."

____

The zombies fell under Crista's well-placed strikes, two falling headless while another one lost both of its arms. The wolf growled, lashing out and bringing it to the ground with its teeth. Jonas cocked his Lawkeeper, placing an expert shot into the brains of another zombie a dozen feet away. Though the monsters gripped and flailed, the paladin's plate armor was more then sufficient to protect him from the simple blunt force trauma.

Aurelie was kicking ass. The undead had aimed to overwhelm her, but her sheer dexterity and agility left them all in the dust. Her shot at the necromancer failed to strike, however, the round splintering the tree behind him as he ducked out of the way.

"Why me dear," he cackled with laughter, "we've only just begun!" He gripped both ends of his cane, twisting and seperating them to reveal two long, vicious whips, glowing with a foul green energy. He struck it forth with expert grace, attempting to knock Aurelie's gun out of her hand just as the remaining two zombies enclosed on her.

Meanwhile, one of the surviving zombies was rapidly stalking towards the wolf as it mauled one of its companions, taking advantage of its distraction to sneak up behind him

____

Crista seeing her wolf companion under attack raced forward to the sneaking zombie and decapitated it as well. She was not about to relive a tragedy. She know glanced around to see who to protect further, her partner or her companion.
 
as written by glmstr, Ronin, and SerinaBloom

Aurelie simply dropped the gun and let the whips knock it out of the air, splitting her sword again. The huntress hooked her blades around the ends of the whips and wrapped the cord around her magnetic blades several times, firmly anchoring them to her weapon. With as much strength as she could muster, she pulled her blades backwards, clothes-lining the two leftover zombies and attempting to either snap the wire or simply yank the whole thing from the necromancer's hands.

____

The zombie fell headless at Crista's feet, the wolf grunting his thanks - maw bloodied with zombie gore.

"Crista! Support!" Jonas called out, grappling with a zombie that had managed to evade his perimeter. He was trying to draw his sword, but the beast had him in a crushing bear hug that pinned his arms to his torso. The monster was beating its head against his chest plate.

As the hunter wrapped Crawley's whip with her blade, she would find the material extraordinarily hard to cut. Neither would it yank out of his hands, though her swift tugging did force the laughing necromancer closer to her. Her close line trick worked to an extent - one of the zombies was decapitated entirely, but the other merely fell down. As he was picking himself up, Crawly lashed out with his second whip, attempting to catch her leg and trip her ... where the remaining zombie stood, ready to finish her off.

____

Crista growled slightly in frustration, a habit she picked up from company she used to keep, as she sprinted forward towards Jonas to free him from his attacker. With a precise swing she sliced of the arms of the undead and stabbed it through the head as it fell to the ground.

"Sorry about that."

____

"Gah!"
Aurelie wasn't ready for the other whip, and it managed to trip her and inflict some minor cuts to her ankle. She fell to the ground but did not stop fighting, grabbing a throwing knife from her belt to use as a temporary weapon. She waited for the last zombie to swing at her, and kicked it back to let her scramble to her feet. The huntress threw her knife at the zombie to slow down or possibly kill it, and then gripped the sword with both hands again and continued to pull the necromancer closer to her.

____

"It's fine," Jonas grunted, pushing the butchered undead off of his breastplate. "Let's just focus on finishing this fight." All of the zombies - save the one tormenting Aurelie - were slain. It was just them and Crawley.

Unfortunately, the moment that Aurelie scrambled to her feet, Crawley yanked back on the whip - likely sending her sprawling to the ground once more. The knife went wide, missing the zombie who continued to advance on the hunter. He gave the other whip a careful twirl, attempting to spin the end around Aurelie's blade and free itself from the trap.

"Ha! Burn for me, little knifeling!" he smiled a toothy grin, whispering an incantation under his breath. All at once, the whips caught on fire in a sickly green blaze, the flames funneling over the material and raging against whatever they touched. If Aurelie couldn't free herself, she risked accumulating serious damage.

____

"Right." Seeing only one undead left alive Crista charged for it.

"Jonas, take care of the necromancer. I've got this one."

As Crista approached the final zombie she thrust her blade into it's skull, impaling it.

____

Aurelie, running out of options, unraveled the second whip from her sword and split it in half again, scrambling to her feet and charging head on into the necromancer in an attempt to reach him before the flames reached her. Upon getting closer, she raised her two hooked blades in order to drive them directly into his chest, if she could reach him in time.

____

Though she'd managed to avoid his attack, Aurelie still had a long way to go before she could reach Crawley. Halfway through her charge, the necromancer grinned - bringing the ends of his whips together and unleashing a powerful explosion of green flame that would likely knock Aurelie on her back next to Jonas and Crista.

Jonas trained his lawmaker on the necromancer. "It's over, Crawley. Surrender."

The necromancer laughed, waving his hands in the air in front of him and casting a quick ward. "Did you think it would be that easy, hunters?" His head went low, his eyes smoldering in green. An insignia tattooed to the back of his hand glowed bright.

Every mangled corpse in the clearing began to tremble, rumbling in the grass as if affected by an earthquake. Then, all at once, they flew up into the air, soaring across the field directly at Crawley. Body after body plastered itself over his frame. Torsoes molded themselves into legs. Entire arms became claws. A gaping mass of human faces became a single, gruesome head. Using the bodies of his victims, Crawley had crafted himself a suit of corpses - a monster made of rotting human flesh, three times the size of an ordinary man.

When the transformation was complete, the abomination looked down at the three hunters ... and smiled.

____

Crista's mouth hung open in shock and watched wide eyed as this transformation occurred. She was chilled by the necromancer's eerie smile but gripped the hilt of her sword, prepared to fight, or die trying.

____

"Aagh!" Aurelie was caught in the explosion and sent tumbling along the ground, some of her garb charred and her mask knocked off. She struggled to her feet and gathered her sword and gun, holstering the latter.
"Do either of you have any holy water by chance?" The huntress brandished a few more throwing knives and glanced at the others. "We could always try peeling off some of those corpses and throwing it on him."

____

"I have a better idea," Jonas grit his teeth. He activated a tumbler on his Lawmaker, the ammunition clip switching inside the barrel. Explosive slugs. "This should penetrate." He racked up his gun. "You two distract him while I get into position. Once I blow the bodies away, strike fast and hard." He sprinted off quickly.

Wasting no time, the newly-formed monster lumbered forward - bodies squelching on the grass with every step. He raised his gargantuan hand and swung it down against Aurelie and Crista.

____

The huntress nodded and put her knives away, rolling away from the beast's arm and taking a few moments to hack at the body parts making up its hand. While it wouldn't do realistic harm to the monster, it would at the very least hamper some of its attacks.

____

Crista dove out of the way, narrowly rolling to safety. After getting back on her feet Crista took action and ran to attack the legs for the putrid creature while Jonas got closer for his attack.

____

As Aurelie attacked the beast's hand, one of the corpses comprising its arm rose up out of the flesh, throwing a viscous jab at her exposed face before molding back into formation. Crista's sword found purchase in the leg of the abomination, though the monster hardly flinched. Winding back his leg, he attempted to kick Crista with an enough force to send her soaring.

"Little gnats," Crawley's voice resonated from within the creature, deeper and more monstrous than usual, "surrender to me. Become a part of perfection..."

____

Too close to dodge such a large object Crista grunted and was sent flying and fell hard to the forest floor with a groan. Luckily she managed to keep hold of her sword, and used it to assist her in getting back to her feet. Once she composed herself she sprinted back into the fray of battle, going more for distraction and evasion this time to let Jonas get close.

____

Her arms occupied, Aurelie simply ducked her head away from the hand, and then bit it. She sank her teeth into the putrid flesh and tore off a large chunk of meat, spitting it out in disgust.
"I wasn't expecting a prime cut of meat, but by the gods that was rancid."

Before the larger monster's hand could lift itself up, she climbed onto the back of the creature, hacking at any appendages from the smaller bodies making up the larger creature that attempt to hit or grab her.

____

The moment Crista was swatted away, the wolf sprang into action, growling in rage. He jumped on one of the monster's toes, ripping off the shin that comprised the appendage with one bite. The beast grumbled.

"Foolish dog. I didn't want to sully my family with your body, but if you won't stop meddling, I'll have to put you out of your misery..."

One of the bodything's other toes sat up, shoving the wolf to the ground with a vicious push. He landed on his bad leg, whining, trying to rise but failing. The monster's massive foot rose high, preparing to squash the garoux beneath a heap of flesh and bone.

Atop its back, two more bodies separated themselves waist-up from the central torso to engage Aurelie, swinging limbs at her. With the entire mass moving and swaying, it would be difficult to keep a grip.

____

Crista's attention was drawn to the wolf as she heard him whine and the necromancer addressed him. She saw him unable to escape the incoming blow. Almost on instinct she sheathed her sword and sprinted towards the wolf, diving under the shadow of the monstrous foot. She scooped the creature up in her arms and just as the foot was coming down she evaded it. She ran a safe distance away before placing the wolf back down. She knelt by him and looked to him seriously.

"Thank you for your help, but we can take it from here. You can't fight with that leg. Go."

She unsheathed her sword and ran back toward the monster once again.

____

The huntress began to lose her grip, so she fired a few silver bullets into the creature's mass of flesh for little reason other than to show contempt, and then jumped off of its back onto the ground again. She felt a dull pain in her side, moderate burns and the occasional nick from the zombies must have created a small (but rather painful) wound under her coat. The garb immediately surrounding the wound began to slowly stain red, most (but not all) of the blood there belonging to her. Aurelie winced and stumbled slightly, holding her side with one arm and clutching her sword with the other.

____

The bullets spattered against the bodies, but failed to penetrate to the necromancer beneath. As Aurelie jumped from his back, he turned to face the both of them, hardly even damaged.

"It's time," he spread his rotting arms wide, "no more games. No more fighting. The two of you will become a part of..."

"Hey Crawley." A voice rang out behind him. The bodything turned just in time to see Jonas directly beneath him, Lawkeeper pointed up. The paladin smiled.

"Burn."

Three successive rounds roared out Jonas' pistol, the explosive slugs slamming into bodything's torso and detonating with ferocious impact. Corpses went flying, entire chunks of the beast's build scattering off of its frame in shockwaves of fire and sound. It roared in pain. As the last explosion hit it, a small space opened in its center, revealing Crawley's side.

____

Crista stood back from the explosion, but still ended up splattered with gore here and there. Seeing the open space, revealing a chance to attack she tried to get close.

____

"You're mine!"
Aurelie leapt into the beast's exposed chest, separating her daggers and ripping them through the monster's (and master's) flesh in an adrenaline fueled frenzy. With each swipe her panting grew more ragged and filled with anger, impaling the blades up to the hilt into any nearby flesh before tearing the hooked edges back out at a different angle. She was tossing aside flesh, blood, viscera, anything that stood in her way between her knives and Crawley.

____

The beast whined as Aurelie's attacks struck true, her blades sweeping aside corpses and hitting Crawley's own, living flesh.

"Damn you!" he roared, "you could have been a part of perfection!" He would make a final strike with what remained of his right hand, attempting to throw Aurelie off of him, before turning to escape, hobbling on the marred wreckage of the bodything.

____

While Crawley was distracted by Aurelie and tried to escape and ran at his legs and once again tried to cut him down or slow him at the least.

____

Aurelie pulled herself off of the creature and fired a last few shots at Crawley's exposed body. She kept pulling the trigger until it clicked a few times from an empty magazine, and then dragged herself to go grab her mask that was left on the ground.
 
as written by Ronin, SerinaBloom, and glmstr

The combined sword slice and pistol shots further hampered Crawley's movements, but he still lumbered towards the forest edge, attempting to escape.

Jonas raced up to Crista, pistol smoking. "Sister! Do we pursue?" They had their destriers and firearms and could go after Eledin if they wished. On the other hand, they'd suffered a few injuries during the fight, had a wounded civilian and were without backup other than Aurelie.

____

Crista was panting and glanced between her companions and the escaping figure. As much as she wanted to finish the fight now. They were in no state to do so.

"Fall back for now. We need to recover."

____

"I-I don't want him slipping away and disappearing. Please, throw a few of these at him," Aurelie reached into a pocket and handed the two paladins what looked like over-sized paintballs. "These are brightly colored, smell strongly, and are just about impossible to remove from skin or clothing when the liquid inside stains it. This will make sure others can find him easily, as it should last for a few days."
The huntress shambled towards one of the motorcycles and leaned against it to hold herself up.

____

Jonas took the paintballs from Aurelie. "Alright, wait here. I'll try and stick him." The paladin mounted his bike, kicked into gear and rode off into the forest after Crawley.

Not soon after he left, a small voice called out to them.

"Um. A little help ... please ..."

Where Crista had left the injured garoux was now a young boy, bruised and battered. He sat up in the grass, wincing at his right leg. He had no clothes. Despite his condition, he looked conscious and alert.

____

Crista, resting assured thats Jonas could take care of marking the enemy when to the boy's side. She removed the cape from her armor and wrapped him in it. She looked down at the youth with care.

"Are you alright?"

____

Aurelie took a few steps towards the small boy, holding her mask in her hand.

"I can tie a splint for your leg if you'd like, but that's about as much as I can do for you. Crista, would the Order provide shelter for him even with his, erm, condition?" The huntress hobbled over to the wrecked wagon and pulled free a broken plank of wood she estimated to be about the length of the boy's leg, and dragged that back to the other two along with some strips of clean clothing cut from the shirts and pants of the other victims.

____

The wolf wrapped the cape around him. "Th-thank you." He nodded, still breathing heavy. "I was a part of the wagon shipment. We were almost at the city when..." He stopped, shivering all over and speaking no more.

Though werewolves weren't viewed favorably by much of the Order, they did have autonomy under the authority of the secular Lutetian state. Unlike vampires, werewolves were considered full citizens. In light of his current condition, it was probably best that the wolf go to a hospital.

____

"I think so but right now I think it's best to get him to a hospital."

Crista looked to the boy again.

"What's your name?"

____

Aurelie silently began tying the plank of wood along the boy's leg, taking the weight off of his bones and muscles but rendering it unable to bend whilst in the makeshift brace.

____

"Luka," he replied, breath slowing. The adrenaline of the fight had left him and he was beginning to feel all of his injuries. He grunted as Aurelie splinted his leg, nodding thanks. Garoux had enhanced healing abilities, but they were usually not competent enough to fix broken bones or serious injuries without help.

At that moment Jonas came back, destrier roaring out of the brush into the clearing. "I pegged him with every ball," he said, "most of them hit the corpses, but some of them might have stuck true. Either way, we'll have a trail to follow when we come back." He nodded towards the boy. "What do we do with the wolf?"

____

"We're taking Luka to a hospital in town. Come on you can ride with me."

I helped Luka to his feet and started walked towards my destrier and helped him up onto it.

"Do you think you can hold onto me?"

____

Aurelie shambled over to Jonas' bike and climbed onto it, holding on to him with one arm but clutching her side with the other. The straps that held her mask on had snapped, so she simply stuffed it into a coat pocket to fix later.

_____

"I... I think so," Luka took a moment to center himself on the bike and situated his splinted leg in a way that wouldn't hurt him. When they were both mounted, he wrapped his armed around her waist. "Okay. I should be good."

With Aurelie on board, Jonas revved up his destrier. "Alright. Let's get back to the city."

____

Crista started her destrier and sped off towards town, glancing back towards the boy to make sure that he was alright.

____

"I'll need to see a doctor in town, could you take me to one?" Aurelie felt her side and looked down at the stain in her coat. The bleeding was slowing down, and it didn't seem like very much more than some large cuts and a few burns.

____

"I can take you to the Monestary. The clerics will have a look at you - much better than the hospital."

Of course, if the clerics examined Aurelie, it was possible that they would discover that she was a vampire. Without waiting for Aurelie's response, Jonas kicked the bike into gear, roaring out of the clearing and back to the city.
 
as written by Sentry and Ronin

Originally Posted by Rōnin
The second lance struck as the paladin reeled from the first, his body turned against it. As such, it struck arguably the most armored part of his body - his pauldron. The spear penetrated two layers of steel but was unable to wretch past the kevlar, sticking in his shoulder like a gargantuan splinter.

With sword in one hand and makeshift javelin in the other, the paladin's light caught the beast just as it lunged against him. He leaped back just as it landed, its tendrils whipping through the space he just occupied and slamming into the floor.

The knight wasted no time. It was in close-quarters. Now was his chance. He lunged forward with a two fold attack - a feint to its head with the magenta spear, intended to be blocked - followed by a swift slash to the monster's leg, intended to strike true. He would slip around the monster with careful footwork, not wanting to get too close to the abomination's grappling tendrils but neither wanting to give too much room to escape. All he had was a sword. Melee was his best option.​

The creature did not block the attack and instead flattened itself against the floor, dodging the faint entirely, but without anticipation of the second strike, wasn't able to summon the amount of limbs to stop it. Her back was nearly skinned, the bulk of her weapons cleaved away. She skittered backwards like a roach, leaned to one side. A dark liquid trailed her path.

That gunshot had done something after all.

Lashing out with what it had left, the monster jetted its tendrils skyward for a volley on the Paladin from above.

____

Remarkably, the paladin readied his blade against the incoming volley. With near inhuman agility, he whipped his blade in quick, decisive circles, deflecting the first few spears with parries from his sword. The lances skittered about the room, the ping of every deflected projectile drumming about the hollow dome with ominous resonance.

Of course, he could get them all. As she let loose all the remained in her inventory, several found their mark. One scraped his thigh, another his calf on the other leg. Two struck his pauldrons to no effect, but a last struck clean through his right shoulder just where the extra protective plating ended. "Ugnnnn..." he staggered, glaring at the monster through a hateful grimace. His grip on his blade tightened as he struggled to support himself, free hand flailing for the wall to support him lest he fall. Red blood poured down the steel like fine paint.

____

Crookedly, the creature stood up, arms hanging limply at her side. The wounds at her back bubbled as the bulk of the tendrils began to regenerate. However, something was wrong. The vinelike appendages that had so aptly wound their way around the Paladin were sloshing to the ground like dead branches. Realizing this, the monster reached toward the nearest of the portals within the chamber, the muscles in her arm tightening as she gripped something.

____

Realizing that the beast was retreating, the paladin wasted no time. He rushed through one of the honeycomb exits, purposefully picking a hallway with a low-hanging ceiling. Resting against the wall, he snapped the impaled pike at both ends till it just barely nubbed out of his chest. Reaching into his belt, he procured a small red vial and opened it. Salve. He applied it to his wounds, dipping his fingers into the sanguine gel and smearing it on the broken patches of his armor.

He dropped the vial, rolling one of his shoulder forward. He used the edge of the wall as cover and barely peered out into honeycomb atria, listening for any sign of his foe.

____

There was a click. Then a very loud boom.

From within the tunnel a bright light burst, and a bullet was fired toward the Paladin's face. The aim wasn't perfect. It ricochet on the stone walls angrily. There was a growl from inside the tunnel, frustrated.

____

The paladin jerked backwards, pressed flat against the wall. The .40 caliber round thundered through the cavern in ricochets of lightning. It had his gun. It could shoot it.

Shit.

Her aim would only improve. He didn't want to imagine what would happen when she learned to use the ammunition tumbler. What rounds did he have loaded in his Lawkeeper...? In addition to the standard ammunition, he had scatter shot, armor piercing and a flare round.

Flare. It was a lowlight creature. If she fired it, it might blind her...

He growled, breaking off the two spears stuck to his pauldrons and twirling them in his hands. He would have to improvise. He turned and descended deeper into the cave he was already in, deciding to stick with the path with the low-ceilings. At least this way she wouldn't be able to crawl out of his reach. The cavern was wide, but not wide enough for either of them to pass each other without noticing.

He walked backwards facing towards the honeycomb atria, darkness enveloping him. His fingers came to the light at his sword and and turned the dial, decreasing the brightness by slow increments ... until it had shut off completely.

"Come," he challenged her as the black wrapped over the plates of his armor and the darkness swallowed his lips.

"Come."

____

The sounds of movement within the chamber were unmistakably the monster's, but from which side of the cave, it was difficult to tell. A rock fell here, behind him, the pitter patter of feet here-

Click.

The creature hadn't any idea what was in that gun, but she knew it was deadly. Caught off guard, vulnerable, perhaps it would kill him.

____

The acoustics of the cave masked the monster's approach well - he heard the soft pad of her hands and feet on the stone echo around him in a slow, cushioned drumline, absent of definitive origin or direction. Still, he knew she was either on his left or right, and so situated himself so that his most armored fronts were facing these directions.

The click. A deafening bang, a flash of light. The creature illuminated in a brief strobe, hideous maw painted white before the flaring muzzle of his gun. The round exploded outwards, the shattered slug bursting in a maelstrom of tiny lead bits.

They did nothing, the low-caliber scatter shot ringing against his plate mail to no effect. He braced himself against the blast, and on the very same movement, was pivoting his feet towards the monster, pike at-ready, throwing the spear like a javelin directly into the center of where he'd last seen the creature.

____

There was a very loud squelch in the dark. The gun clattered when it hit the ground. Gagging could be heard where the creature had been, followed by scraping that neared the paladin.

It was crawling towards him. Badly injured, the spear sticking from the side of its bulging throat, but it was nearly upon him. The tendrils picked up weakly and spat themselves at the Paladin, searching for the crevices in his armor.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
as written by Ronin and Sentry

He felt the tendrils snake up his arms and legs, straining against the grasping cords and struggling to pull away. It was in vain. His numerous injuries had weakened him considerably. The other spear dropped to the ground, and he swung with heavyhanded strokes at the offending snakes, his strikes precise but slowed. Even his sword hand was being grappled.

"Nng..." he growled, ears perking at the sound of his fallen pistol. He had a mental image of the surrounding cavern. Even in the darkness, he thought he knew where it was...

____

Hands grasped at the armor on the Paladin's back, lifting the creature with immense effort to try and avoid the swipes of the sword. The purple liquid spilled from the monster's back and into any crack or weakness the armor had, curling around it's prey's neck tightly.

____

"Yagghh!" the paladin growled, the digestive enzymes seeping in through the cracks in his plate armor and searing his flesh. She was on top of him. He tried to drive his sword upwards but the tendrils embedded in his arm kept his blade from rising too high. He couldn't reach her. She was pouring his acid down on his head and he couldn't do a damn thing-

The gun. It was his only chance. He closed his eyes, mentally envisioning where the monster had been when she shot it and where it must have dropped. Visualized, he charged forward, attempting to bull-rush his way out of the creature's grip towards his weapon.

____

Though the creature's fingers slipped from the Paladin's armor, its tendrils, curled around his neck, stayed in place, dragging the creature behind him with a snarl. It could barely move now, but the struggle continued, trying to strangle its target to death before it perished, itself.

____

Gasping, the paladin unclasped his helmet and threw it aside. The tendrils had already slithered through the cracks in his pauldrons to enwrap his neck - it was useless protection. He reached up with his free hand, yanking down on the suffocating whips, attempting to give himself enough slack to reach his pistol. His sword hand shot out, the blade's tip frantically tapping the darkness like a blind man's cane, searching for his pistol. Nothing.

Panic seized him. Fear was not something unfamiliar to the paladin. He was a slayer, a monster hunter, a killer of killers. Terror was something that never went away entirely. In his years of training, he had learned to master his emotions, to put fear in the backseat of his mind - acknowledging its existence without every truly succumbing to it. But as the tendrils around his neck tightened and bright yellow spots shot up in his vision, his mastery of fear grew weaker and weaker. Words slithered through his psyche, whispers haunting the edges of his consciousness. He was going to die here. This thing was going to wring his neck and crush his throat and eat his flesh. Images flashes over his eyes - his flayed corpse cast over the stone, bulging eyes gazing dumbstruck into the empty shadows. Darkness. He would die in darkness, in fear and pain, in the clutches of malice and cruelty, left without hope, without light...

...light.

He mustered his failing strength, bringing his shaky hand down to the pommel of his sword and clasping the deactivated circle. He wretched it from the blade's hilt, raised it high above his head and brought his thumb around its circumference three times. Maximum power. He shut his eyes as tight as he could.

Light exploded out of the circle - huge beams of white shining from its epicenter in an all-consuming beacon of shadowless bright. It would have blinded even someone accustomed to daylight. The paladin only hoped it did the same for this creature.

____

It did more than blind the creature. Light at this magnitude hurt it, burning the skin until it boiled. The tendrils shriveled and broke away, until they were blackened and broken upon the ground. Shot, speared, burnt and beaten, the monster lay on the ground, wailing like the trapped animal it was.

____

The paladin fell to the floor, gasping, but not stunned. He scrambled for his gun, putting his lawkeeper in one hand and hefting his sword in the other. He stooped and decreased the light intensity a smidgen so that he wouldn't be blinded by its beam. He looked at the smoking, wailing monstrosity at his feet. He caught his breath.

"Speak," he rasped, his voice strong and stern despite the pain wracking his body, "speak if you can, demon. Tell me who did this to you. And I will seek justice for the girl that was."

The paladin was a trained student of monster lore. This was no documented paranormal beast or work of science or nature - this was the product of a curse, a horrible hex placed on an innocent woman. He had a hunch that the cause of this creature's curse was a flayed corpse at the bottom of the mountain, but he wanted to be sure.

____

There was no answer given to the paladin, lest he had been looking for a bloodfilled gurgle and a hateful roar that the monster managed in its final breath. Its head hit the floor, and the monster perished, melting away into the darkness.

____

He watched her die, glaring at the beast as she offered her final screech and withered, flesh sloughing of its bones and melting into the shadows. He raised his Lawkeeper and put two rounds in its decomposing chest. Better safe than sorry.

Gathering his things, he stopped before the creature's corpse and hacked off its head and tore off a piece of his cape and wrapped it. He attached his light to his pommel and limp-walked back the way he came, back through the hexagonal catacombs, up the water surface leading out of the depths, passed the half-eaten corpse swimming in stinking acid ... until he emerged from the gaping maw of the cave itself, light gleaming before him.

He stood on the edge of the cliff and looked out into the town below. Sunset had passed and the night was thick upon the forest. Stars gleamed in the sky like embers and a sliver of moon waned like a knife's edge in the deep black.

The paladin watched this for some time. His eyes - a simple, burnished brown - looked at the town of Carseau. Even from the distance he saw the speck on the side of the road - the boy's corpse. The boy who would have been a paladin.

A rustling to his left. A bright-grey bird perched on a wicker tree, eyes watching him with fixed intelligence. He nodded to it. The animal spread silver wings and leaped from the cliffside, feathers white in the moon.

Turning away, he limped to his destrier and picked up his radio.

"This is Sir Savien Durandet. The assignment is complete."
 
as written by SerinaBloom and Ronin

Claude was resting close to the ground his dark eyes looking towards the skies and listening closely to his surroundings as he kept watch. It was a silent night, and he preferred it that way. Lately that hadn't been a luxury as many members of the pack were riled over the plans that were being discussed. The leader of their pack was devising a plan to get revenge against the paladins for killing their kin and it was soon to be put into play. The killing of the member who had deserted us was not very much mourned but it was surely the last straw.

____

Despite the atmosphere, it was a somber scene. Their recent skirmish in Lutetia had left many of them wounded and sore for supplies. The paladins had driven them out of the city with their tails between their legs. The shame doubtless hurt more than the scars.

Not far from Claude, two pups - Raul and Marcus - rolled around in the dirt in their wolf forms, yapping and snarling at each other as they wrestled. The snap of their jaws and the occasional yelp increased in volume and intensity as the scrap evolved into a more dedicated fight.

One of their pack, Balum, leaned against a tree trunk in human form, fishing bits of shrapnel out of his naked thigh with a knife. He grit, plunging the blade deep into his flesh, spooning the bloody shards from his muscles. The cuts began to heal over quickly.

"Shut them up," he growled.

____

Claude turned his head to the two pups and though he would rather let then continue saw it in their best interest not to enrage Balum further. He barked lowly at the pups, letting them know to be quiet.

____

The pups continued, too far gone in the fight to notice or care for Claude's bark

____

Claude barked again a bit more sharply, making sure to get their attention. He gave the two pups a cool look with his black eyes and then turned back around.

____

The louder, sharper bark got their attention, and they stopped in mid-fight ... one of them with his teeth sunk in the others ear. They separated slowly, heads low.

A rustling, the parting of bushes and branches. From a nearby clearing came a massive wolf - bristled fur grey and black and stained with dirt and dried blood. In his jaws he held two fully-grown elk by their necks, their limp legs dangling above the grass. As he neared the camp, every other pack member stirred and watched. It was Rand. It was the alpha.

His mouth opened and the two elk fell at his feet.

Eat. His deep, almost-grumbling voice resonated in the minds of every pack member. He turned away, leaving them to the feast, walking towards the post that Claude held.

____

Claude kept his eyes locked on Rand. While the other members of the pack went to eat Claude lied still and watched Rand as he came towards him.

____

Any sign of them? He walked to Claude's side but did not look in his direction - blood red eyes scanning the forest line. Behind them, the handful of pack members dug into the meal with beastly vigor. Balum, still humanized, ripped a leg off of one of the animals and began to eat it raw.

____

Claude looked back out towards the expanse of the silent forest. No. Not tonight. It has been pleasantly silent.

____

Rand was quiet, quick eyes flitting between spaces in the trees. A low, thrumming growl escaped his throat.

They'll come, he said. We left too many tracks getting here, and they're not afraid to come into the forest. The fur below his mane bristled. His teeth barred.

After a few seconds, he relaxed. He turned and looked and Claude, eyes dissolved from a sharp, bloody red to a dull, thoughtful maroon. You're not hungry?

____

I don't have much of a appetite tonight Claude continued to look ahead.

____

Rand nodded, watching the others eat. Nor I.

Quiet. The wet squelch of raw, masticated meat sloshed in conjunction with the slimy rendering of bloody muscle tissue.

"Did you see John die?"

The question came out of left field - though it wasn't completely off topic. John's abandonment of their pack had been the reason they'd tried to enter the city in the first place. Now, his death fueled their driving hatred against the Order.

Still, only Claude had been in his house when the paladins had stormed it. Only he would know if the man were truly dead or no.

____

Unfortunately, yes.

He spoke in an unwavering tone. The loss of John himself didn't upset Claude but the fact that he, the most innocent of his kin present that day was the on to get killed. He had been completely defenseless at the time and made no movement that could have been perceived as hostile.

____

Rand's head shook slowly side-to-side. He should never have left us. The alpha watched as Marcus and and Raul nipped at each other over a string of intestine. Why would he back to -them-?

____

Who can say. He never gave me a clear answer. He only said he left because he didn't agree with our methods.

____

Our methods? An annoyed grunt loosed from Rand's lips. Our 'method' is survival. It's keeping alive in a country that naturally hates and distrusts us. He looked off to the side. John knew that. He orchestrated his own death.

____

Claude nodded, agreeing with that thought. John was naive and too idealistic for his own good. It had been the end of him.

____

Rand's anger held for a moment, smoldering in his eyes ... before his frustration left him in a weary sigh. His whole frame heaved, the tension leaving his body.

But I was still his alpha, he remarked almost to himself, I should have protected him. I didn't.

He turned. The Order will pay for what they did, but we can't strike at them from out here. We need to get back into the city.

____

Claude looked back to Rand now. What is your plan to get back inside the city walls?

____

We're going to be subtle, he explained, only a few of us will go in. We'll find the knights that killed him and end them. He drew a breath. There are some other packs in the city. We'll see what they know about the Order.

____

I remember the face of the man who killed him. I can help to find him.

____

Good. If we can kill him, I'll consider John avenged. He turned away. Eat, Claude. You'll need your strength. Tomorrow, things are going to change.

____

Claude nodded in agreement, standing from his post and walking towards the rest of the pack to get his meal.
 
as written by Sentry

The white bird flitted above the forest before sinking down below the canopy, darting between woven and twisted branches. As the sun died below the mountains in the distance it left a trail of red bleeding through the sky.

As the forest grew dark, tiny lights began to pop up down a path, one by one. As each was lit, the flame illuminated a pale face before it.

"Naz," said the shadow as it snaked down the path. "You were gone so long I became lonely."

The bird extended its talons and plopped itself upon the shade's shoulder. Its silvery feathers struck a stunning contrast against its carrier's long hair. "It is my greatest hope that all went well."

Squawking, Naz lifted his golden crest. The shadow gave him a ghostly smile. "Ah, all has gone well for the willful Paladin. What is your truthful opinion, Naz? Is he the one?"

A high trill was the only answer she needed.

"Very well, we shall wait then."

The drag of cloth along the path left the only trace of the two strangers as they departed.
 
as written by Sentry

In the dark of the night, the dark haired witch rocketed from her bed with a yelp. No, more than that. It was a scream.

Everything in the room roused with her, but the first to come to her aid was Naz, the gold-crested bird who had spied on the paladin days before. He fluttered onto her lap, head tilting. He tweeted softly up at the woman, advancing with a slow patter. Swathed in sweat, the witch ran her fingers down the bird's back, calming herself. She breathed through her teeth. As she glanced around the room, a hundred eyes peered back. Dogs, cats, mice, snakes, a bear. Everything that had surrounded her cottage invited itself in, sensing her duress. Her fingers smoothed her bangs from her face, moving her mass of hair to the side and over her shoulder.

"I felt like I was dying," she whispered to the bird, holding him close. Simultaneously, they drew their gazes to the spot above the fireplace. Above it was a large pistol, dark in color save for bits of silver. She placed her hand on the center of her chest. "The bullet feels like it's still there. I can still feel the pain."

Naz dipped his head and nested away from the witch's gaze, as though shameful. The woman brushed her fingers against his wings. "It wasn't your fault... but that wasn't just a dream."
 
as written by Krysis and and Peachy00Keen

"Herbs and roots and berries, oh my." Babette hummed in satisfaction as she moved about the woods. Her carry basket was almost full, and her moon pale dress caught the light as she moved about, making her look somewhat like a ghost.

Even in her human shape, the rabbit was fleet and swift of foot, but she had actually driven out to the gathering spot, where the midnight-blooming flowers she particularly desired grew. They were safely gathered already in plastic tubes in the bottom of the basket. With a flick of her long brunette hair, she bounced back towards the road, barefoot on the fallen leaves.

At least, until another sound caught her ear. The pale creature froze and listened to something rather far off. A half mile at least. Peeking around a tree, her expression softened from wary defensive blankness to sympathy and grief at finding someone lost and apparently injured, wandering so far from light and safety.

Babette would step out of the shadows then, putting down her basket and just waited with her sharp pointed human nose only occasionally twitching. It wouldn't do to frighten the poor creature after all.

____

Pandora shuffled along through the fallen leaves. She had been hiking for hours, tripping over roots concealed by leaves. She had no idea where she was. The land was completely unfamiliar and, even if she hadn't been nursing what felt like a mild concussion and countless other physical aches, she wasn't sure she'd be able to make sens of her surroundings.

She stopped abruptly in her tracks. Something moved across the path, far ahead of her. Adrenaline flooded her system and the aches vanished. She jumped behind the nearest tree and drew one of her knives from her leggings. As quietly as the leaves beneath her her feet would allow, she crept toward where the figure had been, all senses on full alert.

____

Babette stood very still, with a friendly smile and open hands held out to either side. Barefoot and in a long white dress, the leggy female did her best to seem non-threatening. When she judged that the injured woman was close enough, the erstwhile shopkeeper spoke, low and clear, "I'm not here to hurt you. I was gathering, and my basket is by this tree."

She turned slowly in the direction she assumed that the other woman was in, from the sounds and smells coming from that direction. "My name is Babette, and I will help you, if you let me."

____

"What are you?" Pandora called out to the disembodied voice coming from up ahead. "Show yourself!" Her face twisted into a snarl and she crouched low, like an animal preparing to pounce.

____

Babette moved slowly to where she could see the warrior woman, so, presumably, could also be seen. She gave a little shrug then, smiling blandly. "I am a woman alone. I run a shop in Lutetia-- I'm not a werewolf, or a ghost, if that is what you are asking."

____

"I was more concerned you were some kind of bait, or maybe a trap." She lowered the knife; "I've had a hell of a day, and I'm really not in the mood for any games of hide and seek."

Pandora looked the creature up and down, assessing her through narrowed eyes.

"You may not be a werewolf or a ghost, but you're not human." She kept her grip firmly on the knife's handle. "'A woman alone,' you say. Alone why? What's your business in the woods -- alone. You don't have a scratch on you, yet you expect me to believe you wandered out here from your village alone," she sneered, repeatedly emphasizing the word with sarcastic disbelief.

____

Babette bent slowly and picked up her basket to show the heap of greenery, roots, and a bowl of berries to Pandora then. "Okay, so not human, I'll concede that point. Though I would appreciate it if you kept that tidbit to yourself."

All of the things in her basket were either medicinal or poisonous, but the pale creature would cover it with a bit of cloth as she tilted her head towards the road. "My car is there. I came out to gather things for certain friends because I have a good sense of smell and it is easier for me than it is for them to find things."

Then she stepped closer quite suddenly, holding up one hand that was dirty from digging, but also tainted red in places, "Now if you want to stab me, go ahead. I won't stop you. However, I am the only friendly soul you'll find out here tonight. It might be me that you have to thank for not being drugged in a brothel right this moment."

____

Pandora growled, muttering to herself as she reluctantly sheathed her knife, returning it to its rightful concealed post on her leggings. The adrenaline had begun to disperse from her system and her head began to pound. She grunted softly as she moved toward the strange pale woman. If whatever she was was going to make a move, Pandora trusted she would still be able to react in time to keep herself out of harm's way. She waved away the thoughts. They only made her more dizzy.

"Where are we going to go?" she asked, her voice beginning to slur. "I don't have enough money for lodging... or anything really. I was... stars and stones, I was abducted." The reality of the day's events suddenly struck her with such clarity that she felt sick to her stomach. "How could I have been so foolish to let my guard down like that?" Her heart began to race; "what about my family, the herd, the village... What if they're in trouble?"

Pandora whirled around, prepared to take off running back from whence she presumed she came. The sudden change of balance was too much for her. She fell to the ground, dizzy, dazed, and nauseous. Her stomach began to heave but she forced it calm.

"I need to go back. How could I have... Where even am I...?" The slurring became stronger as lingering effects from whatever drug had been used to knock her unconscious began taking its toll. The world began to spin. She screamed, just a yelp, before the world faded to black.
 
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