Of the Night

Status
Not open for further replies.
Lillian breathed a little sigh of content when the werewolf closed her eyes, bright green eyes that were clouded with exhaustion, becoming lidded as her body accepted the demand for rest. Poor wolf-lady. The girl scooted down from where she sat and crouched beside the woman, uncaring as her dress jacked up above her knees immodestly. She ran her tiny fingers through the matted, scarlet fur, untangling whatever knots they came upon with ease, not even needed to break the hair to do so. Aside from playing tag for the sake of fun and to avoid the werewoman's pursuers, there was also the hope that she would get tired and fall asleep, as she had. It hadn't been very likely or all that easy, but Lillian was happy that it ended up as so. Imagine trying to attach an oversized leech to an oversized wolf, where the leech doubled as a bloodthirsty spirit, and the wolf being twice the size of a normal one and having human intelligence. That would be hard, but with her snoozing it would be much easier. As she continued to stroke the sopping fur into submission, she started to sing, soft and sweat but tinged with an unfathomable sadness.

The notes carried on a wisp of air that had spiraled from the sky in order to hear to sound clearer and having been inspired, it gathered the released voice up close around itself and blew away, sprinkling the sound wherever it pleased as it continued its travels. Many of the things that the breaze passed through had no ability to enjoy the music, until it came to a clearing where there stood a small collection of people. It was only able to share a breath of the song with the group before a larger, more fearsome gust of wind rushed at the gentler one, consuming it and the lyrics it carried on its back. The heated night air relished the consumption of the cooler one, using it to pick up speed and travel to the nearest town just outside of the forest, ignorant to the soft sound it pressed against the ears of the living when it passed them.
 
"Huh, I'm not exactly what you'd call a prime example of a law enforcer, though."

Iuno kept his eye on the nearing crowd of defeated men while he listened to his companion's inquiries. He wasn't surprised that the man didn't realize his point immediately so he had already formulated an outline of what his explanation would be. "And I mean my words as they are: I'm going to be hunting some game myself, a feisty one too, if I may add, and I thought that you'd be just the kind of man who would be interested in this sort of thing, so I decided to extend an invitation to you."

Obviously he didn't entirely mean everything he just said, since he figured that any man who could serve as his unconditional meat-shield-and-diversion-in-one would do. And it just so happened that this large man

"Of course, you don't have to help me bag this hunt if you don't want to. I perfectly understand freedom of choice in this sort of scenarios and I'm willing to adjust my goals for the night if necessary." He continued monotonously as he turned away from watching the crowd below. Reaching for his crossbow, he raised it up to his eye level to inspect his aim.

"... I suppose telling the boys back in the garrison how a certain drunkard rampantly running around on a certain time tonight toppled a few torches here and there, which inadvertently caused this evening air to become a great deal warmer is a viable option too. I might even get a few coins for my trouble too."

With smirking eyes, he looked back at the man, waiting for the slightest hint of reaction from him. If he agrees; Iuno will extend a hand and introduce himself before they set off in a hopefully-epic quest. Otherwise, a net trap hurtling across the air can be expected.

"So... yeah. Definitely your choice. No pressure, though."

…

Thanks to the countless training drills that she had to go through, the stride across the woods while being burdened with her chain mail didn't even warrant a gasp of air from Sylva. In a few seconds' time, she's already managed to close the distance and arrive in what seems to be a clearing filled of flowers.

And standing amongst the greenery were, to Sylva's surprise, three figures, all of which are staring in her direction, aware of the noises that her gear had been making. Two of them, as she expected were the two females that she heard conversing, although she didn't anticipate that one of them would look like a youth prepared to do some sort of mischief while the other had skin in almost the same hue as the grass under her feet. The third figure, the one that she had failed to notice earlier, seems to be a small boy who happened to make his way to this deep part of the woods. However he did that, though, she might never know.

But this is no time to pass silent judgment on anyone. She reminded herself. She knows that there's no way she's going to get anything accomplished by herself, so she has to set aside her misgivings and rely on these questionable characters, even for a while.

"Ah, do forgive me for the intrusion, but there is a pressing matter that I must address..."

With that, she bowed her head down, as she was accustomed to do whenever she's to ask for anything resembling a favor.

"I am Sylva, captain of the Guards of the Central District. I have come in search of a red wolf-like creature prowling around in this part of the woods." She declared audibly. "Might I ask if you folks have noticed anything of the like coming through?"
 
The smile returned to the young boy when Elizabeth decided not to use her painful poisons and go with his plan instead, "Oh, good!" he voiced, ever naive to the words 'self-defense' and 'self-preservation'. Perhaps it would always be so, especially since he no longer had to worry of harm coming to himself and certainly only thought once over any harm that could come to others. That didn't make him dangerous per say, but it did turn him into a somewhat reckless creature when strong emotions of the negative kind got involved with his personal affairs. So, it made him all the happier when others and himself all agreed with one another. However, as it may have been apparent some minutes later when a silver hair woman appeared, he didn't like agreeing with things that contradicted... other things. Or, more specifically, ideas and plans that went against his own ideas and plans, unless they belonged to his sister or someone else he cared about. Then he might take them into consideration first before flat out denying them. So, it was with the tightly pursed lips of a child hiding something, that Gabriel shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, a smile still pulling upwards at the corners of his mouth and a teasing light in his eyes. He wouldn't outright lie, no, Izzy had taught him and Lillian not to do that anymore, but surely he could feign innocence at not understanding this Sylva's words. It wasn't necessarily lying either, he hadn't specifically seen a 'red wolf-like creature' that was 'prowling around in this part of the woods'. He had seen a bright maroon, canine-like creature who was certainly not prowling, but running full sprint after little Lillian. What everyone else saw though was up to their own minds to determine.
 
She stirred in her slumber. A sad tune echoing through her ears. Irritation soon became evident on her face. She moved around, her eyes opening as she winced. Looking down Bevan noticed fur beginning to recede from her skin. She watched in confusion. Had she slept through the night already? Was it finally morning? Could she go home now? If she found a way to return to the city. Subtle sounds of pain escaped her lips, the sound of bones cracking and popping were louder than her sounds of pain. She tightly shut her eyes as it all slowly came to a halt. opening her eyes she looked at the ground before her. Her skin was pale in the dim light. Looking up she frowned. It was still night time, the moon shinning brightly in the middle of the sky. Why had her body turned back? This was the second time in the night, it had never happened to her before. Bevan sat down and brought her knees up to her chest. She rested her forehead against them as a few tears ran down her cheeks. There was another presence that she could feel, looking up she wiped away her tears.
"Who's there?" Her voice was tired as she looked around. "It is not safe for you to be near me..." She explained. Clenching her jaw she studied the area that surrounded her. She could see no one but she could feel someone. "Show yourself, please."

Her hair was wet, her body drenched as well, it wasn't sweat, as she looked across the pond she remembered the rapid waters and the child she had been following. She could recall all the running and panting. Bevan had been confused, how was she recalling instances from her night thus far? She could never remember events that took place while she wasn't human. How was this happening? Were these twins the reason behind all this strangeness? "I know that you are here somewhere, can you please come out?! I just want to speak to you..." The last few words were more of a mutter. Rolling her neck bones popped and cracked as she tried to rub the sore area. "No...not again..." she muttered in sadness. She felt her spine rise and push against her skin, against her fingers. The red haired woman sighed heavily. Bringing her arm back to the front she tightened her hold around her knees, bringing them as close to her chest as she could, her forehead rested against the top of her knees. She shook her head in sadness, she tried to force her body not to change. Trying to think of the things that made her human. She hoped she could stall it, just until she could get some answers.
 
  • Like
Reactions: 2 people
"Now now, I didn't say I wasn't going to join you. But-", and he said this with one hand nervously massaging his nape, and the other pointing at the men from the forest, "judging by the looks of that crowd downstairs, I'm guessing this isn't gonna be an ordinary wolf-hunt?" The crowds from the forest were thinning out, with most of the men heading on over not to their respective homes nor even to the site of the fire but to the local graveyard. He winced at the sight of the dead, all mangled and completely devastated, limbs and organs and flesh and sinew out of their proper places, hanging down their sides like articles of jewelry. He'd seen worse, but not at this scale.

Back to the guard. "You see, I'm not entirely sure if I'd rather risk losing my life that way than get jailed or, hell, get mobbed. Coz' you see, at least when I get mobbed, I'd die not by my own hand, but by someone else's. Not by my lies or stupidity, but by a certain town guard breaking his oaths of honor. If I joined you and died in the hunt, I'd not be dying by the..." a pause for thought, as by then he knew it wasn't gonna be a mere wolf that the guard was planning to hunt,"I'm guessing werewolf? Werewolf's hand, being a dumb creature, but by my own-", and here his head suddenly throbbed, for his body realized that he was now sober, having rested for quite an amount of time. "OW! stupidity... could you get me a drink?"
 
Iuno grimaced as he reached for the waterskin that's placed beside his cot and tossed it to the man. It contained nothing more than just plain spring water so he wasn't bothered at all in sharing it. More to the point, he even forgot that he had been keeping one so safe to say that the contents had been sitting in there for a little more than few days now.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but a guard actually acting within the bounds of honor and fealty to his land comes like once in a blue moon. You must be mistaking us with those paladins with those faithfully blind paladins or something..." As he said that, the image of a certain stern and uptight silver-haired woman came into his mind. "Most of us are probably just some random sellsword from taverns and mercenary from some guild, looking to make ends meet with what few coins they could put in our stipends."

In Iuno's case, however, he's one of those wandering adventurer type who took up guard duty in his hometown just because there's a downtime in finding interesting adventures to take part in.

"Anyway, you insult me. I'm not calling on you so we could just march on towards our death, hand in hand, without any sort of plan. I'm not queer, you know." He continued indignantly as he looked back towards the crowd. Just as he did, he saw a single man look back at him, eyes filled with mixed anxiety and urgency. He broke away from the group and headed towards the tower where Iuno and his companion are standing.

He could already guess the man's purpose to him. Sighing heavily, as if some kind of a bothersome burden was placed on his unwilling shoulders, he looked back at the man beside him.

"Time's running out. If I can have your answer now, that would be terrific."
 
And as the guard gave his speech to Osweald, Osweald was busy trying to wash away the headache with the water from the skin given to him. However, his attempts bore no fruit; for how can plain spring water defeat the might of alcohol? "You know, when I asked for a drink, I did not mean this..." he remarked while in pain. "But anyway, yes, I am joining you. Isn't that what I said?"

A slip as he stepped aside to let the man from the crowd in. Another great throbbing of the head. "Don't think I'll be much use in this state, though. You best find me a cure for this ache, first. Hair of the dog often works for me."
 
She sheathed her blade. "If that... Thing... Tries to rip my head off I'm still sticking it with this."

A newcomer entered the clearing, asking for the wolf-beast.

"There was a beast over that way. Though if you intend to harm it, I'd watch out for flying books."

Whether or not the latter part of what she said made much sense, saying she would face the wrath of an angry spirit child was near as insane. This newcomer had a way about them that made Ryn respect her. She didn't seem to be weak or pathetic or all the things that many people were.
 
Like Ryn, Elizabeth also had respect for this newcomer, Sylva. In fact, she had respect for all women, especially for independent ones (like her, if she may so add). The witchdoctor nodded her green head respectfully in greeting. "Well met," she replied, putting away the now empty bowl back into her bag. "I'm Witchdoctor Elizabeth, and yes indeed we have seen such a creature. However," she paused, showing the captain the giant book in her hand. "I believe we have a possible solution to the problem."

And so she opened the book once more, showing the captain what Gabriel had shown earlier. After flipping through a few pages, she pointed her thumb at the floating boy. "He's got the cure," Elizabeth mused, glancing at the.. 'thing' that was sitting on Gab's head. "All we have to do is put it on her." Then she closed the book and looked away from Syl and squarely at the boy with the 'cure' on his head. "But are you sure this will be fine? Because frankly, I didn't like the last part with the googly eyes."
 
At Elizabeth's question, the boy could not help it as his smile turned to that of a more sheepish origin, his feet finally sinking into the rich green of the grass as if he were at last made up of a solid substance. His new found weight shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, body bouncing slightly on the balls near his toes with pent up energy at the unaccustomed intensity of the witchdoctor's gaze. "Uhm... Well... We- I think so, but, uhm, actually, uhmm... there may be the smallest of tiniest of chances that," he started off blunderingly. Aside from his peculiar lack of physical movement, or restraint, his eyes darted around in an almost dizzying display of speed, never staying on anything longer than half of a second before jumping to the next item that happened to capture his immediate attention. This did not seem to suffice though, for too soon he started to talk at speeds that were unintelligible and purposely mumbled, only slowing down at the last few 'sentences', his simple hand gestures suggesting that he was trying to explain something that was complicated for his young mind to express.

"Sowhenthespiritcreaturethingofoursgrowsintoademon,wemaybeabletocontrolitforlongenoughofatimesothatyouallmightbeabletorunorcallforhelpormaybeyoucouldcontainituntilmorning'causeitwouldbecompletelyuselessifitdiedbeforesunrise.Itreallyisonlyaonetimethingythoughbecauseaftertonight,itshouldgobacktobeingsmallbutthentheladycanstillkeepherhumanbody.Oh!Wecouldtrytomakeanotherdealwithitthoughsoitdoesn'thurtanyoneforalittlewhilebutI'mnotsureifitwouldlikethatverymuch.Thepaymentissupposedtojustbeherbloodbuttheyliketogetextrabecauseitstheonlytimetheycananditdoesn'thappenveryoften..."

If 'sentences' could really be the appropriate word for his meshed together words. He paused in question, though not for air, allowing the spirit to gurgle its disappointment in answer at even the suggestion of such an idea, clearly capable enough at understanding him. Gabriel shrugged away the sound of rejection in denial of it but his pause had seemed to help temper his speech. "But, uhm, heheh, nevermind though, we'll take care of it, Izzy, don't worry." He rubbed at the back of his neck like the grown-up men did sometimes when they felt guilty or embarrassed but were too proud to admit it, the sheepish smile faltering. On the plus side, he had stopped bouncing and his eyes were once again still, now quite unable to look away from the woman's, though something within him was dying to flee the scene. Quite obviously, he didn't like being pressured, in even the gentlest of ways.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The small girl that was Lillian gazed curiously through the branches of a large tree that sat some lengths away from the woman, debating whether or not to come out. She was supposed to be waiting for Gabriel once she was asleep but he had yet to come and now it was too late and she was awake. From where she sat, she could see the shiny rivulets of salt water run down the woman's cheek, making her suddenly filled with concern. They were trying to help her, so why was she crying? Curiosity overcame her and she decided to unnecessarily climb down the tree that she could have just as easily leapt from. Head tilted, she skipped over to the curled figure and after studying her body position, mimicked it by sitting down with her knees tucked neatly to her chest, arms wrapped around to keep them there, but with her cheek pressed against the cap of her knees so that she could continue to look at the woman. She went unblinking for several more moments, knowing many, many things that could be said or asked of the lady, but only deciding upon one. "Does it hurt?" she asked in her high, squeaky voice, eyes wide. She wasn't supposed to be changing back and forth like this but maybe she was. The pictures hadn't shown what happens to the person after the spirit dies, but maybe because blood was still taken, then it would still work for a little bit. What else did those symbols say?Maybe they also explained what happens when you try twice in the same night. It really was a pity that she couldn't read yet, she could write her name though, and she was proud of that achievement.
 
Sylva was still too preoccupied wrapping her mind around the series of otherworldly images that the witch doctor Elizabeth had shown her from the book she has on her arms to even take note of whatever the rambunctious boy had been going on about. She stared at his small form with doubt-filled eyes, because she was sure that this kind of plan would always have an underlying motive which could only be of benefit to one of the parties involved. That much she learned from the small ventures of politics that she had to go through thanks to her position.

Although she wouldn't even bother to try and hide the fact that she didn't like the looks of a couple of images back there and that, basing from what she saw, this idea of relying on a creature possibly coming from another plane is too suspicious to put her trust in, she knows that there might not be any other plans immediate to her that has any actual chance of succeeding in subduing the beast efficiently as much as this one. Quite frankly, she should probably be thankful that she was presented with a bloodless option, which is the exact opposite of what she had originally intended.

But... this plan has too many loose ends. Should I really just stand down and let that... thinghave its way?

… Time is of the essence. The longer she takes her time staring at the leech-like creature sitting on the boy's head with repulse, the longer she delays her duty to her mission and to her land.

"... I understand. If you seek to repress that werewolf as well, then you have my unbridled assistance in doing so." She said, placing a hand over her chest and bowing her head once again.

As for what kind of 'assistance' is expected of her, though, she has no way of knowing at this point in time.


…


"Iuno, the captain calls for you! She's--"

"Gone and buried herself in her own grave and you want me to dig her out, right?" Iuno interjected the harried man before he could even get halfway through his words. Then, with a sigh and a scratch on his blond-haired head, he added, "No worries, I've got it covered already."

Turning to his large-bodied friend, he smirked. "Hear that? Our damsel's calling for us already, so I don't think we have time to hit the tavern before we go. This should tide you over for now, though."

As he said that last part, he unhooked the leather canteen hanging by his belt and tossed it over to his companion. Unlike the first one he offered, this one contains a good amount of this town's finest ale, which, admittedly, isn't really all that good compared to the bigger towns. However, it is decent enough for him to take an occasional swig while working on the long hours of guard duty.

"Consider that as the down-payment. If we manage to cash in a lot from that thing's pelt, we can probably afford to buy a barrel of it later."

Not that he cares that much for alcohol. He really doesn't drink much in the first place, but it seems that the opposite could be said for this other man. A fact that Iuno intends to make use of.

As he made to leave, however, he remembered something with a pang.

"Oh, by the way, the name's Iuno, not Bob. Don't ever call me that out again in public." He said as he started to step down on the ladder. "You should probably tell me what's yours too. Otherwise, I might just call you out 'big lug' or 'dunderhead' later or something..."

But, honestly, he might still call him like that even if he does give his name out.
 
Osweald failed to catch the canteen, and it fell flat on the ground, spilling a few drops of its precious contents. Quickly did he stoop down to get it, and hold it dearly, like a rich merchant's pocketbook. He opened it, then released its precious contents into his parched mouth; once the alcohol hit the bottom of his stomach the pains left his head. Vigor and alertness had returned to him, and his reply to the guard's question mirrored this. "Call me..." A short pause. "Well, d'you really think my name will matter? Osweald, Osweald's the name." A gesture at the canteen. "Thanks for this."

Then to the courier. "Now let us pass, we midwives of the world; for now we go to take with gentleness; an ashen daughter of our mother earth." The courier stepped aside, whilst puzzled by the misplaced poetry from Osweald's rhetoric. The vigor the ale had given him may have been a bit too much (or maybe Osweald had, once the hangover left him, thought of something dear? Dear and sinister, perhaps?). Osweald then approached the tower's exit, and motioned to the door. "After you, Mr. Iuno, sir." The oddest of smiles. "Our damsel in distress awaits."

"Ah, but before we go, I seem to be in need of a weapon. This is a wolf-hunt after all, and I can't go out there unarmed, now, can't I? Have you anything to give me? An addition to your advance?"
 
Iuno winced as he listened to Osweald's sudden change of disposition while he walked past the two. It's amazing how the attitude of men drastically change once their lips touch alcohol that he still can't get over its effectiveness, despite having played this card in negotiations many times before.

"Eh, weapon? You still need those even though you have those huge hams for hands?" He repeated in jest before he looked towards the direction of the other man, who was eyeing them with suspicion. Iuno could easily tell that, behind his rounded eyes, he's doubting their capability to aid their precious captain in any significant manner. As he thought of that, Iuno had to suppress a haughty snort from getting out.

"You can grab whatever he's carrying; I don't think he'll be brandishing them any more tonight." He said, nodding towards the standard issue short sword and buckler that the man has. "Preferably, I'd have you swinging a bigger one, but I guess that'll have to do. You do know how to swing a sword, right?"

And then, without waiting for any answer, he continued speaking as he turned back towards the exit. "Anyway, we've wasted our time long enough. We've still got a lot of ground to track and the night's not going to get any longer."
 
"I'll have you know, I've survived many a fight with sword in hand", he remarked with pride (and a hint of irony), swinging his sword here and there with much gusto (but little ability). "Although I don't think I've fought with a buckler before... Maybe I'll need a bit more protection than just this." He grinned wryly at the courier. What reply he received was one rather disturbed look of puzzlement, then a few words. "I'm not giving my armor to you..." the courier told Osweald, hinting at his lack of confidence in Osweald's apparent lack of skill.

Then a bound to stage right, or the window facing the fire. It was still alive (the fire); however, its life was now in the hands of the townsfolk. Though it still blazed like one of the circles of hell, the heat that it emanated throughout the town had grown much weaker. The inferno was dying. "And I thought I was going to get a final kiss from the Hearth-mother from over-" a quick cough; for though the fire was cooler, it was no less smoke-filled. "-here..."

In fact, because the fire was now fueled mostly by embers, it produced more smoke than ever. Even the tower, which was quite a distance away from the fire, was getting consumed by the smoke. Lucky for them that they were now making their exit.

"Now again, Mr. Iuno, sir", (he said,) as he pointed at the exit, "after you."
 
The movement was feint in Bevan's ears. A subtl smirk played on her lips. She was happy that the child was coming out. The sounds got slightly louder and soon stopped. A small high pitched voice entered her ears. The red-haired woman raised her head and looked at the child while she wiped away the few tears. "Why do you have such an interest in me?" She asked the child. "How is it that you affect my body?" Bevan looked up at the moon as she remained confused. The small stabs of pain were evident but she was easily able to shove them aside. She clenched her jaw. "Is there something you want from me? From this curse I bear?" Her voice was slightly irritated. She realized quickly that she was speaking to a mere child and sighed. She wouldn't speak to her children in that manner or tone. This young one was not at fault and Bevan had no right to be so rude to the child. She was simply scared and confused.

Shaking her head she sighed and looked at the child once again. A slight nod came from the woman. "Yes it does hurt...it hurts a lot and it's scary." She answered the little girl's question. "What's your name?" Bevan asked simply. A wince of pain escaped her, her face twisting for a moment. It was a sharp pain that spread through her body. It was followed by a few disturbing cracks and pops. Eventually it faded allowing Bevan to exhale in relief and meet the gaze of the young girl once again.
 
And so, providence's seemingly ever-late hand intervened; a bolt of lightning struck a faraway hill, which signaled the coming of a heavenly torrent. One drop, then two, then double that, double that, triple that, and more and more and more until they could be counted no more! The fire, weakened by the hard efforts of the townsfolk, was finally extinguished. And the fire-fighting folk, returned not they to their homes, but instead stayed in the open, to clean themselves and wash away the soot. They cared not for what illnesses this downpour could bring, for thought they "what things worse than this inferno could come from this rain?", having not heard the vain warnings of the Alchemists, who were by then long gone and far away. For the chemicals stored in their basement had been broken out of their ceramic containers by the heat of the flames, and then the rain-waters did cool them and brew them, brew them into poison...

This cooling and smothering of the flames had made the smoke that filled the town heavy, and so the descent Osweald made, after deciding that the unreponsive guard was being polite and allowing him to lead the way, was not plagued by lack of clean air. However, rain is not without its perils, and Osweald, upon finding the rungs of the ladder he descended with wet and slippery, did slip and fall and make a quick descent to the muck of the ground, hurting rather terribly his bottom. This did not faze him, though; and he jumped back up again with the swiftness of a lightning-bolt, eager to face his doom (due totally to the glee-bringing alcohol, of course; a more sober Osweald would be less joyous for blood).

But he could not continue on without the guard's direction, for he had naught skill in tracking. Again he waited, calling out the guard with the words, "Mr. Iuno! I've gone down, now it's your turn! Can't save the damsel with-out your help!"
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top Bottom
Back