W
Woodrat
Guest
Eric quietly maneuvered behind Ferrick, his back against a pile of rugs, his sword ready in hand.
He did not believe that Ferrick was the werewolf; too much seemed off with that concept. There was the possibility that he was enthralled. It would not be the first time a member of their illustrious order had been compromised. All things considered, the evidence pointed more toward Ferrick being used. But if Ferrick attacked then he would have to be disabled.
The tension in the air, as more heavy mists flowed into the room chilling everybody. Ferrick's torch was the only light source in the room, casting macabre shadows off of the walls. Leonardo held the crucifix toward Ferrick's chest; the watchman seemed to be confused, as if watching everything from a distance. Eric tensed, waiting for any sudden violent actions.
He did not believe that Ferrick was the werewolf; too much seemed off with that concept. There was the possibility that he was enthralled. It would not be the first time a member of their illustrious order had been compromised. All things considered, the evidence pointed more toward Ferrick being used. But if Ferrick attacked then he would have to be disabled.
The tension in the air, as more heavy mists flowed into the room chilling everybody. Ferrick's torch was the only light source in the room, casting macabre shadows off of the walls. Leonardo held the crucifix toward Ferrick's chest; the watchman seemed to be confused, as if watching everything from a distance. Eric tensed, waiting for any sudden violent actions.