FateGuard

[Hydronine]

Alyss shook her head slowly at Corben, more in confusion than anything. She knew the question was not being directed towards her, but she responded to his words, mostly out of disgust and awe at the corpse. "It's such an angry killing... I'm surprised to see something like this- I've read some about shifters... but not much- My.... Mentor disapproves of texts on anything other than healing and herbs... and he's... quite insistent that I don't face off with monsters." She gave a small smile, though her left hand, holding her precious bow, was white-knuckled and shaking. "I do not know much of shifters, but I will do what I can and lend what power I have to making sure our people are safe." In a few moments, she spoke again, "I suppose by the end of this, we'll have learned a bit about them..."

Alyss was disturbed by the body, and was more than slightly absorbed in looking at it- trying to soak in every little detail. Then she looked to Malwin, studying him quietly as well- something about the man set her at ease, and at the same time, made her feel wary.

"I'll escort him if necessary- if you don't mind being escorted by a woman." Alyss spoke directly to Corben on the first part, and on the second part she glanced at Malwin, with the smallest glimmer of a smirk. She wanted to make sure that there was a back up plan in case that the best choice for a body guard was unable to arrive in time. She glanced once more at the body and shook her head slightly, unable to glance at it any longer- wanting to know what kind of beast did this- to see it, and at the same time, something about the body aroused fear in her.

This body... the creature that supposedly caused it... It reminded her of a childhood memory- something shortly after she had entered the care of her mentor.

People stared at her, afraid of her for his skin temperature, and her preference to stay silent if possible. She rarely took trips outside of the mentor's home, disliking the behavior from the people- unable to understand their looks- as if she had a second head, or was outrageously disfigured. She'd play with the servants in her mentor's home, or she'd ask questions- she asked many questions of him when she was younger. One in particular was the reason for the people's continued stares at her- to which he told her not to mind them.... and when she continued on the subject, asking what the people thought of her- what did they think she was, he told her that they did not know who she was, and couldn't help their behavior.

But at the question of "Why do they seem frightened of me?" He had stopped answering and grew silent. She had repeated that question twice more before he knelt down and held her close, telling her that he would talk to the people. Sure enough, people stopped staring- when they thought she could see them. Her mentor refused to answer why they reacted the way they did. To this day, asking of her origins was a taboo subject- though she could tell that he knew something... and now... she felt that this was what the people had feared. A monster pretending to be just another of the townfolk, tormenting them with random attacks.

She grew silent again, lost in thought and memories.

 

[Warmaster Death]

The cold air and near silence of the muted discussion surrounding the corpse made the approach of the Armored figure even more obvious, his tabard flapping softly as he marched towards the scene of the crime, and his helmet tied by a leather strap to his belt, Riktor Heydrich held a well worn and very large leather bound tome under his left arm and wore a large, ancient greataxe across his back.
Unbeknown and unseen by the others, a ghostly figure followed Riktor, marching in step, though the apparition wore full plate armor, although it was broken and battered and like his face, covered in many small acid burns.

He ignored the demanding questions of the youth Aidan and the reproachful looks from his colleagues for his tardiness, instead kneeling besides the corpse and holding the tome in both hands as he close his eyes, as if to meditate.

His Ancestor knelt next to him, Dieter's eyes, burning with wychfire as he surveyed the corpse
"A Lycanthrope did this young one, and an evil one at that. it is a shame that the family talent dried up with your great grandfather, and my powers left me when i escaped deaths clutches to live in this half life, though i suspect your friends are already aware of this fact, but, the Necronomica Encaeclopeadic should bear the right answers, if you can find the right page" Dieter's voice was but a whisper, and when his ancestor finished speaking Riktor opened his eyes slowly, opening the large tome and searching for the correct page

"There is more than one book that deals with the evils of the night my friends, and the book i hold in my hands is an Encyclopedia of all things Necromantic, Lycanthropic, and should anything evil dwell in the darkness waiting to ensnare the innocent, it will be mentioned here" Riktor muttered, finding the page at last and moving to show Corben

"Here Ser, i believe this is the relevant entry" he said, directing Corben's eyes to a particular passage at the end of the entry.

 

[Fel of the Eternal Forest]

Alexander was of course still asleep by the time he was awakened by one of the shops apprentices. Twilight had just come to the city, and he had been in town again perhaps a few hours.

The boy, an earnest child of perhaps nine or ten, shook him awake. Alex grunted, reflexively grabbing the child before stopping. It was dark true, but he was home. And, the boy was yelling: "master Alexander! Master Alexander! A message for you! A message for you!"

"Alright, boy, I heard you the first dozen or so times." He grunted again, lifting his upper body off of the cot. "What is the message this time?" Alex was a tad gruff to the boy, but he was sore and he figured that warranted a little grouchiness.

"Master Corben sent word to meet them on… What street was it now? HEY, RODDIE, WHAT STREET WAS IT NOW?" Of course… the Swords master thought, they sent the boy who couldn't read the message. The boy, Reggie, was unabashedly grinning; the excitement for the night – for he hadn't quite grasped the horror of the city after dark – had just begun.

A squeaky voice from the other room came: "Helm street – I think!" Roddie, too, couldn't contain his excitement. At thirteen his voice was also comically sporadic, and so it came more like "HeLM STReet – I thINK!"

"Yes, yes!" Reggie piped up, "Helm Strit!" Boy can't even pronounce street… no wonder he's an apprentice baker… Alexander was now standing by this point, and with a renewed sense of urgency was donning his armor.

"Help me with this, boy, and pray tell, how long have you been trying to wake me?"

"Just about twenty minutes, my best guess."

Sighing, he replied "and how good is your best guess, exactly?"

The boy was a tad sheepish now. "Not sure, sir, never really tried to tell time." Oh, dear lord… Alex though. Well, he'd reprimand the boys later. Now, the night was fresh, and he was on yet another mission. Today wasn't going to end, was it?

----
Yet another ten minutes or so had passed in the time it took him to don his armor and bind his sword around his waist, relatively by himself, as Reggie wasn't trained to be his squire. And he bounded, somewhat lamely out the door.

He'd taken his rest, sure, but he was in no way recovered from the one way ticket to the ground the dragon gave him. His armor was now ill-fitting, covered in deep dents, especially around his midriff. But, bound down the street he did, cursing himself and the boys all the while that he was late. Thankfully, however, the night sky bore no fire breathing monstrosities. How was he supposed to know, after all, that a more earthbound terror was afoot?

Another few minutes and he found himself winded, more staggering down the street toward his comrades. He was however on Helm 'strit,' and that was a damn good haul, by his current measure of gain.

Unfortunately he was in a ripe state to miss his allies in the alley way the first time around, and bounded backwards as he realized that he'd seen a cluster of people in one a block and a half back, hand twitching in effort for not grabbing his chest as he ran. Might have to get that checked out…

"Ho, sir," Alex called as he entered the alleyway, recognizing his compatriots at last. "What've we here? The boys didn't tell me much, probably took them twenty minutes to pick up for me to come here."

Summary

Alex gets there (after a fashion) and asks what the hell is going on.

 

[Asmodeus]

Eric and Atlas had no chance to answer. In the space of moments the Twins had arrived, followed by Dyne, Riktor and Alexander. There were more questions, words between Alyss and Malwin, heated looks between Derek and Tahan. Alexander seemed ready to collapse. And now Riktor was standing before him with an open book.

It was a mark of tension. All were waiting for Corben to act.

The Marshall took the Encyclopaedia Necronomica from Riktor and glanced across the pages of gilded ink and charcoal sketches. "I admire your certainty." He hefted the grimoire, feeling its weight. "This is almost a century old. But it was written by our ancestors - by warriors telling war-stories and priests sat in libraries. No scholar of Gothenheim can know for certain all the creatures of the night."

Better to join the old with the new, Corben thought as he craned his head to the poisoner behind him. "Malwin. Fetch your research. Take Alyss with you. Be quick."

As the pair departed, Corben led Aidan and Nadia to the ruined hovel where the body had been found. "He was killed last night, partially devoured. Find me this creature's trail before it kills again."

He left them to their work, standing aside so Alexander could likewise get a look. Corben was reading the book now, pacing between one end of the alley, where Leonardo and Tahan watched, and the other end where Eric and Atlas stood. The language was old. Corben stumbled on some of the words.

"...Luna Servus... Wir Wolf... Four-score years ago, ere the Wall was built, yon trappers and huntsmen of the Pilgrim Fleet forsook the Law of Ganthor. Thence unto the Forests of Aborhen, deep in the west... they took to caves and cabins. To this conceit they held... that Evil would not touch them as it did the city flock. Thus it followed... for one year and a day... and they were safe in their retreats... till the night of the blood moon, when fortune turned in one fell spin. Then from the forests great discord, heard in the city, of men in terror's stupour. Through the witching hours their screams prevailed, of thrashing and primal panic... and the Guard who watched that night could fast discern each trapper by his particular cry. Thicker and faster came the din, till as one chorus howling at the moon. Upon the morn, when Old Castanamir ventured from his logging track... he found no dead as testament to the night's uproar... only trees and cabins rended through... and shadows slipping into the deeper woods..."

Corben's breath misted in a shudder. He wished now he had taken the time to don his armour.

 

[unanun]

Tahan quietly took in the hub-bub, the muted beehive of activity that swirled around the murder site, not unlike flies coming to lay their maggot-eggs in the rotting flesh. The corpse, with its mouth slightly agape, seemed to be engaged in rictus, a final mockery or scream against its unknown assailant.

A vague feeling of idleness overcame him, and it made him want to shuffle his feet. A sharp pain lanced over his right shoulder, and he spun to face the pain, allowing it to center once again in the middle of his chest. He leaned forward to catch Leonardo's ear.

"The creature is on the move." Surely it would not descend on this group, but it was about to do something. To the north.

A subtle shake of his right arm dropped a smooth spike out of his robes and into his hand. It was a fragment of a dragon's tooth, carved and polished to a spike. As of yet, they were still unable to hone the tooth into a reliable edge, and thus without the aid of his armour he was unable swing the imperfect blade with the strength needed to cut the carapace of the unholy.

 

[BulletVixen]

Nadia breathed as shallowly as possible. The dark scent trying to caress her nose strongly. Slowly dragging herself to follow Corben's lead she sniffed gently over the body, then lifted her head to see if she could gain the same smell anywhere nearby.... Ah! There, turning her head towards farther back in the alley her unseeing eyes caught some of the rubble near the feet of the body. Not paying attention to what the others were doing she fell into the almost trance state that her nose would drag her into. Almost crouch crawling she sniffed down by the rubble seeing blood and then. Fur? Yes it was only a few strands of fur gently tucked into some of the glass and and wood. She sniffed up again like a cat trying to find it's prey. Turning she walked over to the main wall of the alley, slowly she pressed her fingers into a large imprint in the wall. Sliding her fingers along the body of the scar on the wall she again found another clump of fur holding itself with spots of blood. The thing is the blood didn't smell like the human's. It was most likely the beast's which she was rather sure was SOME sort of shifter. Whether were-wolf or not it was definitely NOT a normal beasts smell. Turning her head to her brother she lifted it slightly, telling him she wanted him. He slowly nodded and paced over to her leaning down.


Aidan crossed his arms tightly against his chest and leaned down to hear his sister. "What is it? Oh." He heard the gentle movements of the tiny threads of fur in the wall. Able to tell they were animal he brushed his sisters arm, she would know what kind of animal. She merely continued to caress the large mark in the wall with her elegantly nailed fingers. She suddenly jerked her head to the opposite side of the alley, "It's something shifter, weather were-wolf or not it's animalistic, and it's still extremely nearby." Aidan turned to see a house farther down the road, the house was lit up like a house on fire in his gray view. There were lanterns on the walls, the door, inside the windows. Unfortunately the curtains were drawn so seeing movement in the house was unlikely. Aidan turned to where Corben and the others stood. "Sir this way." And he lifted his sister to her feet as they began heading towards the house.


Nadia quietly stood trying to gather herself. Looking back at the group she smiled at Alyss as she began to take off with Malwin. Nadia and her brother enjoyed the company of the Fateguard when it was on quieter terms, and for some reason Alyss's silence made her wish they could be friends. The girls long white hair reminded her of her own and many things about the girl reminded her about herself. She silently wished her brother and herself weren't such an oddity to the others. Perhaps they could've made more friends. Turning to glance quickly at Derek a small smile ran across her face. If her brother wasn't around as much, she thought to herself. Then pushed the thought away and stared at the ground following her brother quickly and quietly. What ever made her think a man like him could be intrigued by a thing like her? Who knows, she tended to think random needless thoughts and they always got her no where. What made her think now was any different. She sighed softly with disappointment and quickly slid onto the deck of the lantern house. Quickly sniffing about she found flasks upon flasks scattered about and another scent caught her. Pulling herself slightly too close to the door she found another small dab of blood, but then a horrid scent flushed her nose. Gagging again she held her throat as she pointed to the door signifying Corben and Aidan should listen. "This place is a disaster. It smells as though whose ever in there has peed on every belonging they have. And it smells like animal urine and wet dog. It also smells like they dumped a keg of alcohol on the floor and the food does NOT smell edible in any shape or form. Whatever is in there is drunk, probably has food poisoning and is absolutely NOT human." She spoke the entire thing in a low whisper so not to harm her brother as he tried to listen to see if the creature was at home, and also so not to awaken or notify the same being to their presence on it's porch.

 

[Deathrillz-Assassin: Class A]

As Aidan walked along the street he heard his sister pause and look back to the others. "She's probably looking at that Derek. Why... how does HE intrigue her?" He shook his head of his thoughts, trying to ignore them. "Her thoughts are her own I shouldn't question them." Stepping up on the porch he stopped closing his eyes to listen as intently as possible. After a few moments he heard his sister describe the smell of the place, then his body tensed. As she stopped speaking the sounds from the house suddenly barraged him. Breathing, very labored breathing came from the top of the house. Aidan crouched trying to concentrate. What was it, the breathing was too deep and heavy to be natural. It was large, crouched like himself but it's hands over its head. Was it hiding? Or trying to erase itself. Aidan shifted looking back at Corben with terror written across his face. "It's still in there, and still in it's other form. And it is FAR from happy." The pulse running through his body made his heart patter and his body tremble in its crouched position. Suddenly he heard a tiny shift in the weight of the house, and then large patters.
"FUCK! It's moving, and FAST!"

 

[Asmodeus]

In their haste to get to the alley, most of the FateGuard had not noticed it. The house at the alley's end, where it met the main stretch of Helm Street, was lit up like a Christmas diorama. Corben counted at least twelve lanterns hung on the eaves or mounted in the windows. As the Marshall followed the trackers, one hand on his hilt, he took a moment to survey the scene.

They were at a crossroads of sorts, with Helm Street to left and right, and another smaller alley opposite the one where the body had been found. And at the corner, this house stood. It was small - a peasant's hovel of mud and thatch built against the stronger stone of an adjacent grain store. Some wood decking around the door was covered with discarded flasks and the smell of lantern oil still lingered. Someone had been lighting the lamps in a hurry.

But the curtains had been drawn behind the window lanterns. Strange. The light was clearly not meant for the inside of the house.

He kept his distance from the trackers as they checked the door, approaching only when Nadia whispered to him. Keeping in a low crouch, next to Aidan, he nodded at their comments then signalled them to pull back. As one they returned silently to the alley where the others gathered round.

"Aidan says the beast is in that house. The light is perhaps a defence - to blind our nightvision. Keep one eye closed until you're inside." He began pointing to each of them as they huddled. "The house is soaked with oil and spirits. We cannot use torches. The Twins will enter first, then Alex and Dyne with me. We'll be fighting in the dark. Elayna, Eric - hang back with Leonardo and the boy, in case it should get past us. And Atlas, whatever protections you can give us, grant them now. Ferrick, you'll bring up the rear."

"Should we not wait for Aloysius?", Ferrick interjected. "Or Arkavenn?"

"No time," Corben replied, drawing his blade as he straightened and turned towards the house. A grim smile crossed his face. "Derek, Riktor... I heard that door say something about your mothers."

 

[Delnoir]

Derek glanced over at Corben, "If you want me to take point just tell me," if it wasn't for the helmet Derek would have given the Marshal a look that would have told him to never do that again. Derek glanced at the house and folded his arms. This had to be some kind of trap. Should he really go kicking in doors? The regalia would protect him from fire no problem. It was magic he was worried about.

Derek took a deep breath, approached the door, and closed his eyes for a few moments to make sure that his eyes were as adjusted to the dark as they would be. Rather than kick it in he waited for Riktor to join him before drawing Alondite. In one mighty swing the door broke into splinters. As they bounced off his armor Derek charged in, opened his eyes, and brought his sword to a defensive position.

 

[Woodrat]

"Will do Corben, just to let you know this is a bad idea." Eric called out. He disliked the idea of charging headfirst into a house without any idea what they were facing. The series of events were suddenly occurring rapidly. How the hell were they even sure this was a "werewolf" anyway? To Eric this felt like a trap. It was not that Eric did not trust the instincts of the twin oddities; but everything was laid out too easily. The killer would not hold up in a place so close to the scene of the kill, at least, if whatever it was had any sense.

As Derek and Riktor broke down the door Eric brought his sword out and held it firmly his hand. He fully expected the worse.

 

[Kitti]

By the time that Erilyn had found her way to where the others were gathered, no help from Arkavenn who had yet to show himself, she seemed to have missed out on some key information. They were easy enough to find from the close proximity, since they were making no huge effort to be quiet. In fact, judging by appearances when she arrived, they were attempting to bust down the door to a house. Absolutely wonderful, protecting the city one day and barreling into homes the next? She hoped that there was some reasonable explanation for it and was fairly certain there would be, as Corben appeared to be heading the door busting operation.

"What in the name of the mist is going on here?" Erilyn asked, her eyebrows raised even if the difference could not be noted under her helmet. Before she could ask any further question, she caught sight of the infamous twins and she shied away a little. Some yet unintroduced fellow, looking as sullen as the day was bright, was present as well in this debacle and she was sorely tempted to question whether or not Corben was trying to get them all hated by the townsfolk. Sure enough, Erilyn had little cause for worry since they seemed convinced that her goal was to usurp the beloved king, but for some of the other more respected members... Erilyn braced herself, trying to rein in her thoughts. Rumors and evil whispers or no, they were comrades this night and every other night that they took arms to defend the city. Even those ill omen twins were risking their life. Remember to respect their sacrifices too, she chided herself. Best to not be blinded by appearances, for narrow-minded superstition is the downfall of the flock.

Erilyn was in time to hear some of Eric's skeptic remark to Corben and it drew her eyes to the door of the house. This night was making little sense, but it seemed that something dangerous might lurk in that house. Who'd heard of some monster locking itself away in a house, anyway? Shield held loosely at her side, she looked between Eric, the door, and Corben.
​

 

[Lady of the Dragons]

[DASH=gray]Aloysius suddenly noticed Erilyn and walked up to meet her. While his face didn't hold its usual glow, he still attempted to show some warmth in it. He gave a half smile at her.

"Erilyn, I'm glad to see you...Yes, I am fine. Thank you. Erilyn..." His face turned serious. "There's a FateGuard meeting on Helm Street. There's been a murder. And..." He gave a sideways glance, as if scared of someone overhearing their conversation. "...it's not good. After I gather up Ark, I will return to Helm Street. Though something tells me I should be there now."

Aloysius swallowed hard. He wanted to sprint back to Helm Street and join his FateGuards but he needed Ark in tow.

"Dammit, the lumbering fool takes so long to answer." He gave a smile filled with dry humor. "But that's Ark, as you know."

A feeling of dread came over him. He shuddered slightly at the feeling, pushing it away. What was making him feel so anguished? What were the strange vibes that he was getting from the murder? Were they good or bad? Aloysius hated having so many questions. Finally, he simply shook his head.

"I need to go. Ark surely knows where he must be. I feel that something critical will--or is--happening and we'll be needed. Let's go, Erilyn. Ark will find us."

So Aloysius sprinted besides Erilyn back towards Helm Street. He skidded to a halt, barely missing Derek, and looked around frantically. He missed some information, which only added to his anxiety.

"What have I missed?" He asked quickly, still looking around rapidly.[/DASH]

[SPOILI]Aloysius meets up with Erilyn, telling her about the meeting. Then he runs back to Helm Street, trusting Ark to know where to go. He still feels a strange feeling of dread for whatever reason.[/SPOILI]

 

[XC]

Arkavenn had been reading as he waited for the FateGuard to call upon him. Yes, he had been reading.

Not drinking.

Reading.

He was sitting by a lamp and he had a pair of reading glasses that were far too small for him on, and when Aloysius knocked on his door he panicked, fumbling the book and it flew out of his hands. Before he could reply he found himself assailed by half a dozen things. In his rush to recover the book he had knocked over a pitcher of mead, a bookshelf, broke a chair and a few other miscellaneous stuff. "Oh fuck," the giant swore as he scratched his head, looking at the pandemonium before him. His mother was going to kill him when she came to clean up. Yes, Arkavenn was a grown man and his mother still cleaned his place for him. But who was going to say that to his face?

It took him about five minutes to don his armour - Hey, it wasn't easy, okay? He didn't have a squire and his armour was pretty huge. Now encased and looking more battering ram than human, Arkavenn charged out of the house. Helm Street, right? Or was it Helm Avenue? Or .. Helm Boulevard?

Fuck.

And Aloysius was gone.

Double fuck.

"I guess I'll have to .. Pick and choose."

Helm Boulevard it was.

Three minutes later.

"God, why do you play tricks on me?" Arkavenn lamented as he looked up at the sky. The rich people were starting to stare, all dressed in their suits and dresses and other fancy clothes at the giant standing on their street clad in full plate armour and wielding a giant mace in his hands.

Five minutes later.

"I'm here, I'm here!" Arkavenn yelled as he sprinted down the street. The civilians were in a dilemma - One moment they were fleeing the scene, not wanting to get caught up in the crossfire of the FateGuard, and the next moment they were running back towards the scene, away from the giant block of metal that was charging down their corridors. Wait, so who- what were they supposed to be running away from?! In the end they decided that cowering in a corner was better. Leave the rest to luck, you know?

Arkavenn's face displayed a look of annoyance when he noticed that the door was already kicked down. Who the hell knocked down doors without calling on Arkavenn first? Well. Technically it was his fault because he was late but .. At least he was sober this time around, okay? He joined the group of the FateGuard standing at the front of the house, one or two of them already entered the place.

"If you want to break into a house, guys. Do it right." Arkavenn growled at them, as he stood in front of the mud wall adjacent to the door. He could smell the oil and spirits the house was soaked in, so he briefly stopped to snuff out the lanterns on that wall before he drew back the giant mace he held in his hand.

Letting out a loud, guttural roar that had been known to turn back undead beasts, the giant swung his mace right into the wall of the house and knocked the entire section of the wall down, opening up more space for the FateGuard to charge in and by doing so, allowing the light from the street to flood into the house, greatly increasing the visibility of the place.

Summary: In short, Ark's late. He knocked down the wall beside the door after snuffing out the lanterns so no fire.

And ..

Video to his battle cry.

 

[Zen]

A curt nod was given to Corben in recognition of his orders. Without thinking, the mage rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows. His face, already pale from the previous protections, was starting to perspire; he had not let up on his spells. Despite the cold night air, it did nothing to help the mage's rising temperature. But weakness was never shown in the Fateguard. It would always be pushed aside for the betterment of the group and for the city.

He waited for the others to get into position, standing behind Dyne and in front of Corben. With bated breath, Atlas watched the door. All those that Corben had assigned to barrel through the home would feel the air change dynamically. The temperature would rise significantly, matching that of a warm summer evening. Their skin would tingle with the new enchantments, which were meant to protect them from fires and small wounds. If Atlas was charged with protecting one of their own, his shields would be able to repel the enemy, and send it flying. But since his enchantments were spread across several people, his magic worked less effectively.

If one were to look at the mage, they would see a focused man intent on saving every last one of them from harm. He trusted all of them to defend one another, no matter the cost.

 

[Kino]

Dyne listened intently to all the discussion around him, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. It was a bit difficult for him to fully comprehend it all after being tossed into the situation, especially after his time away. However, he knew what was important. They were expecting to encounter a Shifter of some sort, most likely a werewolf, and soon.

As Corben gave his orders to everyone, Dyne nodded upon hearing what he was to do.

"Yes Sir."

He brought his helmet up from under his left arm and put it on his head, shifting it a bit until it was in just the right position. He then drew his two swords from his back and closed his left eye as instructed, keeping close behind Corben as they awaited their turn to enter the building. There had been mention of a fire risk, which did not make Dyne nervous at all since his armor was enchanted specifically for such events, so any fire that might be started wouldn't harm or hinder him.

 

[Asmodeus]

Derek had charged in without waiting for the Twins. He would regret this. For the moment he crossed the threshold, the thing inside the house made its move.

Something struck Derek clean between the eyes, knocking his helmet off-centre. He brought his hand up to correct the visor, but not before a second object hit his shoulder.

Aidan rushed in on his other side, immediately stumbling on something. There was a snap and then a great clatter of objects. Derek and Aidan disappeared in the darkness, grunting in pain. Nadia followed, caught up in the momentum, then immediately dodged back. Smells were coming towards her... lots of them... flying through the air. She twisted this way and that, trying to interpret the stimuli. Then Corben, Dyne and Alexander charged through doorway behind her. Alexander immediately got entangled with Nadia, the two of them stumbling to one side, before something small and fast lunged at Alexander's leg. Another object struck Dyne on the helmet. Liquid splashed through the visor and into his eyes, stinging them with pain. He faltered as Corben pushed ahead, only to have a crushing weight brought down on his foot. The marshall yelled and fell to one side.

"Marshall!" shouted Ferrick, who was the last one through the door. Instinctively he brought his torch up, trying to get some light into the room from the doorway. But all it illuminated was the thing flying towards him.

Eric raised an eyebrow as Ferrick tumbled out of the doorway, along with the pieces of a shattered packing crate. Apples and oranges rolled around the man as he landed in the mud.

Then Arkavenn smashed an Arkavenn-shaped hole in the front wall, which allowed the moonlight to finally pierce the interior of the house.

"DIE, WEREWOLVES!"

"Arf! Arf!"

An apple clonked Arkavenn on the head. He blinked and peered into the hovel as a dog started barking. Then an orange stuck his sternum. Then another apple. The giant tilted his head and looked at the old man in the corner.

"I'll send ya back to hell ya pox-ridden hell-beasts! Have at you!" He kicked his leg out, making his boot fly across the room and thud against Arkavenn's chest.

"Arf! Arf!" barked the man's mangy dog, which was snapping at Alexander's leg.

Dyne was by the doorway, picking pieces of orange out of his visor, whilst Aidan and Derek were getting up from the pile of pots and pans that had fallen on them when they triggered the booby trap. Nadia was against the wall, framed by a circle of apple splatters that were slowly sliding to the ground. And Corben, meanwhile, was on the floor clutching his foot.

It stunk of urine and booze. The old peasant was wearing three heavy fur coats that reaked of sweat, and as he ranted his breath wheezed heavily. "Back again, eh? I'll give you a second thrashing, witch-swine!" He smacked Corben's other foot with his frying pan.

"Agh! Get him off me!" yelled the Marshall.

"Arf! Arf!" barked the dog.

 

[Delnoir]

Ahhh, what a unique brew of emotions Derek stewed in. Self-annoyance that he had gotten distracted thinking about his mother. Embarrassment that he had let himself trigger such a childish trap. Wonder at how such a chain reaction could occur amongst a group of well trained fighters. Relief that he had taken the hit from the pots and pans as the alternative would have ended with the unarmored Nadia and Aidan taking it instead. And finally...

"Agh! Get him off me!"

A rapidly growing frustration. As Derek rose to his feet he centered his visor with one hand helping Aidan up with the other before striding over, stumbling over some of the resulting wreckage from Arkavenn's wanton wall smashing. Arriving next to Corben he leaned down and grabbed the scruff of the man's three coats before hoisting him off the ground using his strength enhanced by Alondite. He glanced down at Corben and then to his allies, "Um...sorry. That was...my mistake."

His apology probably was dulled by the rather offensive odors coming from the room and the incessantly yapping dog. Derek involuntarily coughed a few times. The stench of booze was almost overwhelming, "Bloody hell. I think this guy drinks more than you do, Arkavenn!" As if the dog and the odor wasn't enough now their ears were assailed by a new sound.

CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG

The sound of metal hitting metal. The peasant had taken to futilely hitting the chest of Derek's armor.

"Damned witches! Sending living suits of armor after me too?! Take this!"

This went on for roughly ten seconds, over which Derek steadily became more and more annoyed before audibly growling, grabbing the frying pan as it came at him again, wrenched it out of the man's hand, and threw it aside, "Will you stop that!? We're the FateGuard you insufferable jackass!"

Somehow he suspected the man would be too drunk to care...

 

[unanun]

As his eyes played over the developing scence, a rather new emotion rose from within his chest. The edges of his mouth curled upwards, and he felt like coughing. The feeling was uncontrollable. A smile passed over his face, the faintest, impish quirk at the corners of his mouth, and he laughed. It was a rather light sound, and it was punctuated by his attempts to hold it in, but his eyes crinkled in genuine mirth, even as he bent over slightly, clutching his knees, the dragon's tooth falling from his grasp and clattering to t he floor.

His necklace seemed to agree with him. The jaws on the small iron skull were opened wide in silent mirth.

 

[Kitti]

Not a part of the group who had broken down the door into the house, since she still wasn't sure what was going on, Erilyn had been closer to the back. She was not disappointed in her interested attention, since the group who flung themselves into the house were promptly beaten with a pan by an old man, who kept howling at them something that sounded like "Get off!". Erilyn tried to fight back a smile but the whole affair was so positively hilarious and Derek's comment made it even better. Unable to suppress it any longer, Erilyn's frame shook with her hearty laughter and she clamped her hand over her own mouth.

Stepping back so that anyone who wished to exit could do so, Erilyn's laughter tapered off and she wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes. The scene would be forever etched in her mind and if she died this night, at least she got to witness that. Her comrades did not seem quite so amused but since she hardly knew what was going on anyway, she couldn't be too terribly somber about the affair yet.

"That was priceless, you guys. But, now, I must know. What all is this about here? I haven't an idea what's going on right now. Could someone fill me in, please?"
​

 

[Jack Shade]

They quitted Corben and the rest without word, taking alley and main road toward Malwin's house. The moon rose above them, pregnant with silver possibility and their footsteps were eerily quiet on the cobblestone. Malwin led by a stride or two, always keeping just ahead of Alyss as they passed beyond even the keenest ear of the Fateguard. Turning a corner into an alley, Malwin waited for Alyss to turn as well and took her roughly by the shoulders, pushing her against darkness and stone. Her skin, as always, was cool against his own. It always felt like he was on fire when he touched her, that she was drinking the life from his body, the passion in his soul. His mouth found hers and one hand tangled in her hair, pressing himself insistently against her.

It was only for a moment, and he pulled away with a faint smile. He could still taste her. "Good fortune we weren't sent with any other companions," he said, peeking around the edge of the alley and stealing toward his house, "I've been waiting a week to catch you alone." He glanced back with a smile, one only for her. They had been lovers for nearly six months now, all in secret. There was a strange kinship between them, a mutual taint of the beyond within their skin. For Malwin, he felt the night complimented Eryss' looks the most magnificently. She was a pale moon amid the darkness. His pale moon.

He stopped near the door, nodding at her to stay outside and passed within. Briefly he stopped at each of the beds where his dearest were asleep. He ran a finger across his wife's cheek, feeling the warmth that followed it. Stood a silent minute over his daughter, taking her tiny hand in his and clutching it. Neither woke and it was just as well.

Taking his tome from beneath the bed he paused to collect one of the vials from beneath the floorboards. He held it up, only halfway full. It had taken some time to gather the blood. Pocketing it, counting on using it only in an emergency, he reemerged from the house, closing the door softly.

"We have time, Alyss," the assassin breathed, stepping close enough to her that his words held the physical weight of his breath on her skin, "Shall we return to them early...or find another use of our time?"



Summary: Malwin gets the book and reveals he and Alyss' relationship may be far more than it seems.