Deserters (Closed~)

[Salt Lord]

The sound of trumpets blared. A thundering roar of countless soldiers rolled over the hills and through the forests. Tons of rusted steel blades and shields clanked together, some of them emanating with the flow of magic and others not. After years of famine and suffering, the people from the lesser kingdom were determined to make their last push into the City. This was the final battle, and they could not lose, for the lives of the peasants and blacksmiths up to the nobles and royalty depended on them.
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The disease needed to end. The starvation needed to end. The poverty and homelessness and broken economy needed to end. The concept of prosperity could only be retrieved from this one last glorious battle--the war to end the war. The sounds of the metal and cries of men and women alike were the army of the invading kingdom, searching for the glory and victory that would end the suffering of the people they represented.
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Conri Mac Giolla Eion was among this army. He was scattered in the very back of the mass of soldiers, hearing the least of the trumpets and seeing the least of what was soon to be a gory fight. The man was completely sure he wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to roll in the glory in which a final win would bring. He was born and raised outside of the confines of the kingdom that rivaled the City, but he considered himself a citizen with all of the confidence in his heart. This was his war.
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At least, that was what was going through his head when he had joined the army days prior. But now that Conri could hear the blaring of horns, and the enemy City's military could be seen on the horizon even from behind thousands of men, he had his doubts. Alone, he was strong. He stood a whole foot taller than the average soldier, being able to lift about three--with armor. However, when he was faced against thousands, even with people to support him... Blood from animals was a sight he could take. It was common during hunting. But murder and hunting were not the same thing. Especially considering that much of that blood could be his own.
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And when that blood did end up being his own, what would it matter? Even if his kingdom came out victorious, and people prospered for hundreds of years, what would his name matter? Would he just be forgotten along with the other people who had died? What would their names mean anymore? And that was considering that they won to begin with...
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With each step, each stride in his march, Conri's confidence dwindled. There would be death either way. The sight of blood was inescapable. He alone could make no difference. At least, not as long as he stayed there.
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Making his final decision, the man sheathed the makeshift battle axe he was given within the makeshift shield... and ran. As fast as he could, as far as he could, and for as long as he could, he sped through who would have been his fellow soldiers and made out for his life. He was determined to never stop, not until the horns seemed silent, and the outlines of an army were no longer visible. He wanted no part of this 'glory'.
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​

...
​

 
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Hours later, Conri's wish was granted. He could hear no trumpets or roars, and see no swords or shields... or most importantly, blood. Though now, he was in a part of the woodlands that he didn't recognize. The trees were just like any other, but the terrain was completely foreign. Not like it mattered, at least not then. If the wildlife was anything like he'd seen, he wouldn't be bothered while he slept. And so, Conri climbed up to a high branch on one of the hickory trees, albeit very slowly, and allowed himself to rest from all of the miles he had ran to get away from an inevitable waste of a life...
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[StoneWolf18]

Elara had finally escaped.


Or...sealed her own fate of a gruesome death.


But at this point, none of it seemed to matter as she slipped through the back lines and sprinted as fast as she could in such a weakened and malnourished state. Tossing the chipped and rusted blade that had been pride from the countless hands of dead men to the blood stained and withering grass, the woman clumsy shrugged off the overly large brestplate that was clearly built for a man. She knew that if she was caught, she would've tried for desertion. But after withstanding a siege of countless years and being forced to make one last effort, either option was suicide. And she'd rather pick the lesser of the two.


The drow kept her eyes focused on the treelike ahead of her, the only thing that kept her moving was shear determination, fear, and the intoxicating amounts of adrenaline that coursed though her system. It grew nearer by the second, the horrific sound did battle and death being left far behind. Yet how near it actually was had been an illusion, the woman having ran for hours, threatening to stop more than once but pressing herself forward. She wasn't about to give up, so close yet so far....


A hopeful and excited glee filled her once she dove in between the thick oaks hours later, the brush swallowing her and her trail whole. Pushing through blindly, Elara ignoring the burning in her heaving chest and legs as the forest continued to stretch before her. But it was short lived as the toll of the journey finally settling upon her. Stumbling the drow reached out and half crashed half leaned on a large tree, trying to catch her breath and collect herself. Unaware of the man only feet above her.

 

[Salt Lord]

Only minutes after Conri had fallen asleep in a branch, someone had ended up a few feet under him, just as exhausted, and there for the same reason as him. Yet he wouldn't have known that if his already death-like state of rest hadn't been interrupted by the man falling off of his branch and landing with a pound on the dirt and a loud grunt, inches away from hitting the person who had decided to lean on the same tree he was on before. He looked around in panic, worrying that the battle had been taken to what was going to be his new home, but it was just a girl. Not a girl, a woman. A woman who was wearing as little armor as he was, and without any weapons or anything of the sort... yet seemed like she had run the same distance he had. She couldn't have been native to this forest, could she...?


There was no other possibility. 


Still regaining his air from the fall, he was stumped on whether he should say something or not. She might have been able to help Conri find shelter, and even more importantly, food. But what if she was hostile? This forest was unknown to him, after all. Him simply hitting the ground in front of her may have already startled the elf-like creature. Maybe she wouldn't attack him if he just played dead?


And so Conri did, hoping that rather than assuming him a threat, she would take pity on him, as well as being able to help him up to his feet. He knew that he couldn't do it himself...

 

[StoneWolf18]

It took Elara quite a bit to stifle of a cry of surprise and the man fell inches from her, she having to stumble back from the tree in shock. It didn't help that she recognized the armor he wore. He was part of the siege... the very thing that caused her to flee from her home. Unsure what to do, seeing as he lay unmoving, the woman took a few steps away from man, not knowing his intentions. He was much taller than herself, easily able to overpower her if he wished. Conflicted, she remained still, breath unconsciously held as if waiting for him to make the first move.


Yet even though both of them were frozen, time wasn't. The sun had slowly faded below the horizon with a chill creeping through the air, it beginning to tear through the thin dress she wore. What if he was dead? Could she search him for supplies? Not wanting to wait any longer, Elara shifted closer to him with an outstretched arm. Aiming to check his neck for a pulse.

 

[Salt Lord]

Several minutes had passed, and in waiting for help up, Conri had ended up falling asleep long before the woman checked his pulse. Were it not for the slight touch on his neck to make him panic again, his breathing would have turned into a snore. With the small nap he had snuck in, he was able to roll around, which he did, but when he looked at her again, he could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. She was... scared of him? The man stretched, his back and just about every other part of his torso crackling, before he looked at her again. Conri quickly tried to think of something to say to make himself seem less of a threat, to no avail... Just more grunts. He began feeling guilty for not being of any use, just sitting there and staring... At one point, he noticed that her skin almost seemed to be glowing. Then he figured out that she wasn't glowing, but that it was nighttime, and the moon was shining proudly and brightly. It was also full, and he knew what happened on full moons.


He stood up and, still assuming that she was harmless, lifted the woman up and set her on the branch he had been laying on beforehand. The man was going to transform into some kind of wolf-beast soon, and he'd end up hitting things like he always did. Conri didn't want anyone innocent to get caught in that, and despite lacking brainpower, he knew that he got even dumber in that form, to the point of not even bothering to look up. "Uh... stay there, or... try and get higher if you can," he mumbled, before taking one last look at the moon for the night.


...


Sounds of pained howls filled the air as his body... well... transformed. Rather than looking even remotely like a person, he was a ten-foot-tall monster in a brown coat of fur, growling at the slightest of movements and pacing around shakily. It looked down and noticed that there was a flower swaying with the breeze, so it clawed and bit and tackled it until that spot of grass was just a patch of mutilated soil. Then it looked behind it, and noticed that another flower was swaying with the breeze. It shared the same fate as the one beforehand. It would continue for the next one, and the next one, and the next one, until the werewolf realized it was straying away from its resting space... so it went back. Its aggressive growling calmed down, at least somewhat, but it was still keeping an eye out for dinner...

 

[StoneWolf18]

Once it became clear that the man was indeed alive, she quickly withdrew her hand, still unable to form any words. She knew it wasn't smart to remain near the giant man, yet she didn't have much time to decide when he grabbed her. Making out a choked cry, she tried to squirm out of his grasp, although her current state made the struggle useless. When he set her on a moderately thick tree branch, she grasped the truck while frowning deeply as he mentioned something about remaining there and climbing higher if possible. The drow opened her mouth to ask what the hell this was all about when his body collapsed, taken by violent convulsions. Before long the wet snap of bones breaking and reforming filled the air as his form swelled and grew. Fur sprouted any bare patch of skin as his face stretched into a muzzle. It was a gruesome sight, but what was worse was realizing that she was only five feet up in the air. Eyes wide as she held her breath, watching as the werewolf was distracted by the flowers before slowly trying to stand on the branch she occupied. It being difficult to remain upright due to the chill that encompassed her limbs. Reaching above her for the next bough, she cursed for being short and tried again, hoping the beast wouldn't notice for his condition was surely infectious.

 

[Salt Lord]

The beast's hostility came right back when he heard scraping against bark and shaking leaves behind and slightly above him. Conri looked up, his pupils growing against his yellow, glowing irises, and he could make out the shape of a familiar person. In the span of a few seconds, he was hungry enough to crave even non-animal flesh, and soon, a powerful arm would make its way in an arc at the drow, claws out and "fingers" extended. While the claws missed the flesh and hit the tree, the force was more than enough to leave bruises and fractures of all kinds... and just knock her off of the branch in general.


The werewolf prepared another swipe when his prey was on the ground, hoping to make sure that there was no fight left by the time he feasted... but he himself would be left open for some form of attack. Despite this, the night would be long, and it would take more than a few hard hits to keep Conri from eating...

 

[StoneWolf18]

As the wolf noticed her presence, she froze in her struggle to climb the tree and looked at the beast with wide eyes before he swung a massive clawed paw in her direction. Easily knocking Elara out of the tree, she landed roughly with a gasp of shock. Taking a moment to collect herself before scrambling to her feet and breaking into a run away from the monster. He was twice her size, there was no way she could feasibly outrun him. Yet fueled by adrenaline that quieted the protesting of her sore legs and aching lungs, she ran into the forest. Determined to try and stay alive for as long as possible, despite how foolish it seemed to run.

 

[Salt Lord]

Thanks to the slowness of what would have been his final swing, the drow was able to get up and travel meters away from him and counting… Meanwhile, Conri’s claw was stuck in the ground. It took a few attempts, but he did manage to get it out, and even if it had taken him longer, it would have only been a slight annoyance. What would have been a quick snack was now a chase--and werewolves liked chases. Getting on all fours and growling, he sprinted and caught up in the same amount of time it took for her to get as far as she did. Wanting to keep his prey alive for a few moments longer, Conri only shoved her to the ground and leaned into her face with his own, jaws open and taunting his prize with intimidating snarls. He went to take a bite and get it over with, but there was a small part of him keeping his mouth stuck… It was the very same part of him that recognized this lady as a person rather than a meal.



A conflict grew within him, arguing over whether he was hungry or not, and soon enough, the werewolf was frozen over the drow. She wasn’t getting away anytime soon, but after a few minutes of being pinned, it seemed there was more than enough time to think.

 

[StoneWolf18]

She ran as if her life depended on it, because partially, it did. But eventually the 10 foot monstrosity finally pushed her to the ground rather harshly. Brusies would be aplenty the next morning, that was for certian, the act causing her to cry out in pain before he kept her beneath an outstretched paw. The sadistic, wolffish grin he wore was enough as was his breath of rotting meat. But the fact that he was delaying the inevitable made the whole ordeal oh so worse. Her breath had quickened to a dangerously fast level, her eyes wide and darting around the beast's face as she threatened to slip into unconsciousness. She had known that leaving the battle and staying were both suicide in their own way, but who would've thought that her life would've been taken hours after her flight by the jaws of a werewolf. This realization caused her vision to fade as she grew dead to the world out of shock, her mind and body unable to cope with the stress.

 

[Salt Lord]

The werewolf’s struggle continued, his primal instincts clashing with his human morals, still having a hard time deciding on whether to go in for the kill or not. For a few seconds, the primal instincts won, and Conri was able to get a nibble into the drow’s shoulder, far enough to draw blood. The moment before he could get deeper and tear her whole arm off, his morals took control again. Though this time, they wouldn’t be held back. Continually, his rage and hunger dwindled, enough to the point in which he now had control over his own body--even if only partially. Bit by bit, he pulled himself off of what was earlier his prey and stepped to the side, looking to see if she was unharmed. Unharmed, no, dead, no… Maybe…? She wasn’t moving…


The werewolf knelt down and lowered his head to her chest, finding that although hardly, she was still breathing. He looked at her again and saw how damaged she actually was, and even felt remorse for what he did. If he was able to use magic in this form, he would have at least tried to sooth her wounds, but that would need to wait until dawn. Dawn, however, was a long way away… would she be able to make it?



Conri stayed silent and continued to look down. He may have just taken a life that didn’t need to be taken...

 

[StoneWolf18]

With the pain she was in as well as the millions of other things that were affecting her along with just having been bit by the werewolf... it was safe to say she wasn't waking any time soon. As time past, her condition seemed to worsen with the rise of a fever causing a film of sweat to glisten upon her brow and breathing even more shallow and ragged than it had been before. An onlooker might've guessed her wound had grown infected. Which wouldn't be surprising and rather accurate seeing as a werebeast's mouth was hardly sanitary along with her immune system being nearly nonexistent for obvious reasons. But the kind of infection that now plagued her was more than a raw, puss-filled wound. It was deeper, rooted now within the woman whether the man had intended it or not. It was this that then caused terrible fever dreams to spark within her lucid and barely comprehending mind. Twisted and warped scenarios of wolves within the city she once called home, devouring her and those she knew before her eyes until it began all over again, continuing in an endless cycle. On the surface, however, it was clear her body was facing some sort of internal war of its own. A physical one mind you, as she was quick to transition from sweating to shivering within moments of each other. Soft moans escaping her cracked lips and dry throat, the sound originating off of a swollen and dehydrated tongue. Elara needed to eat, drink, rest. But it was uncertain if any of those things were to happen.


As a few more hours past and the sun slowly rose, she managed to force her eyes open a crack, the sunlight while stil fresh in the coming dawn, was as blinding as a torch being lit right in front of one's face. Her stomach felt as if it were a hollow pit, mouth filled with sand. The wound she had sustained burning similarly to a thousand suns while her bruises caused pain with every movement. The uneaven and harsh forest floor wasn't helping in the slightest as she groaned weakly. Not having the strength to see if the man or beast was still around much less wonder why she wasn't dead. 

 

[Salt Lord]

He had been there to see it all. The occasional twitching, the groaning that did not sound happy, the constant sweating and shivering... and the sight of infected blood dripping from the wound on her shoulder. Conri knew what all of this meant, as the stories from when he was a child had sunk deeply into his brain. If this woman lived to see another full moon, she would end up turning into the same monster he was himself, and inflict the same harm onto other people that he had done to her. It would be a neverending cycle of carnage, all because he couldn't control his own emotions. Being as guilty as he was, he sat down and kept an eye on her all the way until sunrise, when his body slowly and painfully reverted back to human form, and even then, he sat in mourning for a while.


But there was nothing he could do by moping. Standing up, not bothering trying to put his ripped armor back on, he skipped the whole 'clothes' thing and went out to see if he couldn't find the necessities to keep two people alive. He walked alone for hours, keeping a mental note on what would make a good landmark and what wouldn't, until he heard faint rustling in a mass of bushes. Among that mass was a tree that stood out, small red berries on every couple of leaves, which Conri recognized as tart cherries. The rustling had to be an animal of some sort, probably eating from that same tree. Satisfied with his own survival skills, the man grinned and walked forth, hands ready to grab at whatever was within those bushes. The berries were something he couldn't carry right then and there, but he knew where they were. He'd be back.


...


His body was covered in scratches, and none of the wounds looked very pretty at all. Some were bleeding and some were just plain swollen... But that didn't stop Conri from wearing a smile over his face. His ability to hunt without weaponry even as a human pleased him greatly. That being said, he was holding a fairly large and fairly dead rabbit by the ears in one hand, and a sharp stone in the other; a lack of blood covering any of the two things he had picked up. He had the food and the thing he needed to skin it (even if it would turn out to be a mess). Now all he needed was water. And a way to carry that water all the way back to the drow. Of course, he would always be able to make a basket out of twine, even if it took a while, but the actual source of water... These woods were foreign to him. There was a chance that the closest lake was still days away. If that were the case, he might not even make it himself... It turned out that a lake wasn't entirely needed, as it wasn't too long until he came upon a creek. That creek was almost as the same width as his body and hardly flowed at all, but it would have to do. 


Conri set the rabbit down beside him and the stone on top of it before lowering to his hands and knees and drinking the water straight from the fun-sized river. It was cold... and refreshing. he had the urge to roll and try to swim, but the part of his head that used logic said it wouldn't work, and for once, he followed it. Actually, he and the lady might be able to settle down at that particular spot. Maybe he didn't even need to make a basket to carry water back. And so he got back up, trusting nothing would come to steal the rabbit, and ran off back to the spot he had come from. 


...


The remorse from the night before meant nothing to Conri now. If he could keep the drow alive and happy, he would have done himself justice. Confident in his ability to make up for the horrible things he did, the man smiled and set her down before the cold water, waiting for her to take a drink. It was a while before realizing that she was still unconscious and close to death. "Oh." Conri took it upon himself to pour water from his cupped hands into her mouth a few times before feeling that maybe she was a little less close to death. Though she still wasn't awake... Hoping it just took time and not effort, he went on to skin the rabbit with the rock, careful not to make too much of a mess. The last thing someone would want to wake up to was... that. 

 

[StoneWolf18]

Elara had drifted back to the edge of unconsciousness as she had been picked up and carried to the edge of the stream, only waking somewhat when the water had been poured down her throat which had been greedily swallowed. The man was lucky she had been awake for he could've easily caused her to drown. Slightly renewed by the fluids, the woman slowly tried to coax herself to sit up, but got only a few inches off the ground when pain shot through her wounds. Stifling a cry the best she was able, the drown laid back down with a groan, mumbling a question the man hopefully would catch. "H-how long...?"

 

[Salt Lord]

Conri was still busy working with the stone when he heard weak mumbling coming from beside him. Looking over and realizing that he had managed to un-kill someone, he smiled. The day just couldn't get better. Though there was the fact that when she realized she had asked him "how long", he couldn't quite tell, as he hadn't kept track of the time himself. "Since last night," was all the man knew what to say, hoping she wouldn't end up asking for hours. He continued skinning, wanting to get mealtime done and over with, as it was likely that the both of them were starving. Fortunately, they wouldn't have to wait too much longer, as the rabbit was basically already peltless, and the whole forest was one huge source of firewood. 


...


And firewood there would be, as Conri had gotten up to breach small branches off of trees to toss them over by their temporary settlement. If he could keep on providing long enough for the native to recover from his attack, maybe she could lead them to shelter. He wouldn't ask her about it until he knew he could provide food, however, and while he had the resources to cook, he wasn't able to make fire himself--not easily, at least. Feeling that the small pile of branches would suffice to cook a rabbit being held over it, he walked back over to the one he injured and assisted her in sitting up. "Can you make fire?" he asked rather abruptly, hoping she knew he was hinting at fire magic rather than fire on its own, not feeling up to nearly setting himself on fire rubbing two sticks together.

 

[StoneWolf18]

At his response, Elara didn't respond but tried to think the events over quietly. If her sluggish mind was able to function properly, she would have an easier time in doing so. What she was able to make out, however, was that a werewolf had attacked her last night. The man they currently was aiding her.


The stench of blood from the rabbit wasn't all too pleasant but who was she to complain in such a state? It was food and that's all that mattered. As the still unnamed man tried to get her to sit up, the pain was extraordinary, causing her to flop back down onto her back. Not having the willpower nor the energy to stay in such a position. As he asked if she could start a fire, she gave a slight shake of her head. She could've done so if it was necessary, but with the condition she was in, the drow couldn't talk herself into moving least her discomfort would grow.

 

[Salt Lord]

Pulling his hand away from the drow, fearful to put her in another state of pain, Conri decided to just leave her alone until there was proof that the wounds had healed. He would have used a soothing spell long ago if he was able, but there wasn't much magic to be done without energy. For those who relied on strength, the arcane was more tasking than just looking for supplies, and the supplies he needed to take place of his magic were probably in this very forest. Of course, he wouldn't go around to look, because there was a very small chance he'd be as lucky to stumble upon them as he was to stumble upon the creek and the food. Speaking of...


He sighed upon learning that she was unable to make fire. Of all of the skills someone native to a forest could have... But he had no room to talk. Conri grabbed a stick from the pile he made, used the stone to slice it into long shreds, stuck the end of another  into the shreds, and proceeded to twirl the stick. He sat and went at it for what seemed like an hour, the stick smoking after a few minutes, then the smoke blowing away, with more smoke appearing. These very moments of smoke were often followed by annoyed sighs and cursing. When an actual flame appeared, the man blew at it desperately to keep it from dying as the embers did before, then held it daintily to the nest of branches behind him. "Yesss..." he said with relief in his voice. Conri pierced that rabbit with yet another stick and proceeded to hold it over the still growing fire rather sloppily... but for something built and carried out so quickly, it would work. "Now we wait..."


The man looked back at the drow and smiled, not minding if she didn't have the energy to do the same back. She would soon.