Fantasy The Silver Lining (Exif & Willowmere)

[RhenVao]

Sir Roland kept his eyes on the road. Night had fallen about an hour ago, drowning the forest in darkness. The lantern he carried with him did little to dispel the shadows. It was dangerous traveling the roads at night. There was always potential for highwaymen to ambush and rob you. But Roland paid them no mind. He wasn't some merchant, and the average highwayman had enough common sense to not risk their necks in battle against a Knight Errant.

Really, the scariest thing about the woods at night was what the human imagination conjured to fill the void of what went bump in the night. The howl of a wolf could be mistaken for a lycanthrope. Abominable things. Tonight, the gods had blessed Roland with the harmonious hymn of chirping crickets and croaking toads.

There was a hoot. Roland's eyes spotted the glowing spheres of an owl watching him pass through from its home within a tree. Adelaide sputtered nervously, the poor thing. Roland rubbed a soothing hand down the horse's neck, finishing off with a gentle pat. "Easy, girl. It's just an owl."

Adelaide had been Roland's steed since the academy. She was considered a problem horse by the stable masters, a strong but unruly brute that sent would-be riders flying through the air in a comical display of defiance. Roland was one of those riders. But he didn't give up so easily. While many dismissed her as a lost cause, Roland alone visited her late at night with peace offerings of food and company. Every day, he tried again and again. Slowly but surely, Adelaide had grown to reciprocate his affection. By the end of his four years with the academy, master and steed were inseparable. In spite of all the bruises she inflicted upon him, Roland wouldn't trade her for any other horse.

The lantern highlighted the shape of a sign up ahead. He tugged the reins just slightly, motioning for Adelaide to stop. He removed the lantern from his satchel and held it aloft to bathe the sign with light.

Toomes Peak: 20 Miles​

Just my luck, thought Roland with a disheartened frown. It would be at least another hour before he reached the next town, but the alternative was to set up camp and hope mother nature was in a generous mood.

Then, his nostrils flared. Roland sniffed the air and his face scrunched with suspicion. He recognized that smell anywhere.

Fire.

Roland's head swiveled about, trying to locate the source of the odor. Had some hapless peasant tried to set up a campfire and it got out of control? Was there an arsonist looking to saify their perverted desires? Where there was fire, there was smoke; Roland looked upward. Even against the dark indigo backdrop of the sky, Roland could see the billowing black vapor reaching for the stars like a rancid shadowy arm. "Let's go, girl."

With a firm snap of the reins, Adelaide raced toward the smoke like a fierce arrow released from a tempered bow. Up ahead, Roland could see a flicker of light bleeding through the darkness like an open wound. Like a moth to the literal flame, he proceeded onward.

When he broke through the treeline, Roland discovered a wooden cabin being consumed by ravenous fires not unlike hungry ants picking apart a grasshopper. Smoke bellowed from the top and was expelled into the night sky. It was a ghoulish sight, the flames within flickered in the windows like hellish eyes staring down the lone knight, daring him to enter its doomed confines.

Adelaide dug her heels in, unwilling to approach the site any further. Roland dismounted and pet his loyal steed on her head. "It's okay, girl. You don't have to get any closer." He focused on the burning house, brow furrowed behind his helmet. Who would set a cabin ablaze in the middle of the woods and why? This couldn't have been a random act of arson. Could someone be trapped inside? Gripping the hilt of the sword, Roland proceeded toward the house.

Willowmere

 

[Willowmere]

Mynnow had never expected her life to turn out as it did. It was supposed to be quiet and simple- The daughter of two hunters, going out to hunt an animal or two every so often, and occasionally trekking all the way to the nearby town to sell carcasses and leather. She once shared her brother's thirst for adventure, but once he had left to never return she reconsidered. The pair of lycanthropes that had attacked them a few years ago was an extraordinary event, and she thought it would be the most excitement she'd ever feel in her life. Something that had disappointed her a little, in a way.

Now though, as she woke up with ash and soot choking her throat and burning smoke searing her lungs, she regretted ever thinking in such a manner. She glanced around in a panic, bringing her arm to her face as she tumbled out of the bed and into the floor with a loud thump, tangling with the fur blanked her mother once made for her. She struggled until she got one leg out of the mess, then another and she stood up in a hurry- only to be forced back into crouching once the swallowed a lungful of the thick black curtain of smoke gathering above.

She headed for the door as quickly as she could and entered the common room to gaze upon a burning inferno. There was fire everywhere, but her tired eyes managed to notice that the door leading in and out of the house was where the flames rose higher. Her father had told her of how angry peasants would set fire to the houses of those they hated, starting them at the entrances so they wouldn't escape. A terrible chill went down her spine as she felt the heat of the flames lick at her skin. She shook her head and tumbled into the door leading to her parent's bedroom.

What she saw inside made her stomach churn.

The fire had not started on the entrance of the cabin. It had started in the room her parents.

Brilliant oranges and yellows consumed her vision, with the room being almost entirely consumed by dancing flames. An acrid smell assaulted her nose, like how the meat her mother would accidentally burn while cooking smelled, but ten times worse. Tears welled in her eyes as she recognized the two lumps lying on the ruins of the bed as her beloved mother and father.

She felt her muscles starting to grow and contract and her sense of smell begin sharpening, which only let her smell the charred corpses of her family in even clearer detail.

Mynnow screamed.

 

[RhenVao]

Even with his helmet on, Roland had to press his face into his forearm to minimize inhaling the black fumes that threatened to scorch his lungs. The hot, dry air had already drawn sweat from his pores and his heavy armor would only exhaust him quicker. He couldn't stay in this house anymore. He had to leave, now.

Roland turned toward the door, but froze in place before he could take a step. A shrill scream pierced the air. Someone was in the house! From the sound of it, they had to be a young girl. Roland briskly turned around, his head snapping about, desperately trying to locate the source of of cry. Nobody was present on the ground floor, but the staircase leading up presented a hint of where the girl might be located.

Roland coughed. Damn this smoke! He didn't have much time. If he stayed in this inferno for too long, the smoke would get to him before the fire did. But a girl was in trouble. He couldn't just flee with her life depending on him.

"Hold on, I'm coming!" He called, rushing for the staircase. Using the arm railing, he skipped every other step to quicken his ascent. Once he reached the top. He came upon a hallway with two doors on each side and a window at the very end, giving a view of the moon in the sky. Roland clenched his fist as he coughed once more. "Where are you?!"

He started with the nearest door, finding a bathroom swallowed by flames. A heat wave struck Roland, sending him back with a cry. Roland couldn't dwell on it, moving to the next door. It was already open, revealing a bedroom with a small bed with a bundle of sheets. He instinctively rushed in, hoping to find the girl rolled up within the sheets. He threw them to the side, finding only a stuffed bear in the middle of the mattress. He scooped up the bear, panicked concerned seeping in. He knelt down, peeking under the bed; nothing. He snapped to his feet and flung open the closet; again, nothing.

Roland coughed again. Any longer and he'd passed out, for sure. He had to find that girl and fast! He spilled back into the hallway and ran for the next door, finding a master bedroom. A wave of relief washed over him as his eyes fell upon the girl standing before the bed, her back to him. It was a miracle she was still alive!

"Hey," Roland called to her. "Hey, come on. We can't stay here. I'm here to…" He trailed off as his eyes fell upon the two charred lumps that rested in the mattress. A lump formed in Roland's throat as he pieces together the identities of the deceased. He clamped a hand over the girl's eyes and swept her up with his other arm. "Don't look! I'm getting you out of here!" He spoke softly, hoping to calm her down as best he could. If she started hyperventilating, she'd only inhale more smoke.

 

[Willowmere]

Mynnow grasped her hair, crying. She muttered unintelligible words under her breath as she looked at the corpses. She could feel her blood pumping and her heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest at any moment. She could feel it gnawing at her mind, tearing at her control. She felt the fur growing on her back, and her muscles contracting violently against her will.

Her ears were drowned out by a constant drum of adrenaline, as if an army was marching on her ear. She felt her mind becoming ever more fogged, and her arms were trembling so much it felt as if they were going to fall off. She didn't move even as her skin got singed by the ever approaching flames, and she wept as her body underwent a myriad of internal changes.

For a moment, everything stilled. She no longer felt the drumming on her ears. She no longer trembled. Her breathing calmed down and her heart began to slow. Almost as if she was falling asleep, even through the constant crackle of fire and the sudden sounds of the cabin collapsing. It was a lull she was all to used to whenever her other half took control.

Then someone covered her eyes. Picked her up and screamed something.

The rage overcame her. Whoever was holding her did this. They had to be. The cool feeling of metal armor was unmistakable, and there was only one group who would do this to her and her family. She felt her nails growing, sharpening, and her teeth getting longer. Her body mass increased and fur began to cover her body. Her vision became red. All the practice she had done to remain in control while on this form flew away like a leaf in the wind.

She screamed again. She roared. and pushed back against the man, throwing him against the wall with animalistic glee. She could feel herself growing taller, becoming stronger every second. Her lycanthropic instincts flared out, coveting her attention, and they demanded blood.

She fell on the ground in all fours and turned around to face her prey. She bared her fangs at him and tackled him again as he tried to stand up, throwing both of them into the hallway. She fell on top of him, and as she saw his helmet, so reminiscend of the templar she knew where responsible for this, her bloodlust peaked and her jaws began snapping at his face even as her claws ineffectually tried to find purchase on his armor.

 

[RhenVao]

Roland didn't even have a second to register what was happening before he was suddenly and violently cast against the wall with such force, Roland was certain he cracked the wood. He slumped into a seated heap on the floor and groaned. His armor, thankfully, absorbed the brunt of the impact but that didn't stop his ears from rattling.

Roland craned his head up and his eyes widened behind his helmet. The girl had undergone a transformation, growing in size and gaining dark fur that covered his entire body. Her legs contorted in a backward angle and her fingers grew sharp claws. The pointed ears and snout were a dead giveaway.

She's a lycan?! Roland's mind raced as he tried to piece together what had just transpired. He reached for his sword, but the lycan lunged at him, slamming into his chest, knocking his weapon to the ground and spilling them both into the hallway, the beast on top of him, clawing at him, gnashing its teeth with killing intent. Roland jammed his forearm into the lycan's throat, just barely holding its jaw at bay, a mere few inches from his face plate. Even with his armor, one good bite was all a lycan needed to put down a fully grown, trained knight. It swiped its claws at him, trying to knick any exposed weak points. Fortunately, this lycan was only an adolescent. Its claws, fangs, and strength weren't fully developed, but he couldn't afford to be reckless. A young lycan was often the most unpredictable.

Damn! She's strong! I can't hold her back much longer! He coughed again, much harder than before. God, my vision is growing blurry! I need to get out of this house! Roland strained to turn his head, spotting his sword just inches away. Grunting, he reached for the hilt, hoping to wrap his fingers around it just enough to draw the blade. This momentary shift in focus allowed the lycan to draw closer to his neck, fangs dangerously close to his jugular. Even with chainmail, he didn't want to take his chances letting this thing use his throat as a chew toy.

His fingers found the hilt. With a firm pull, Roland ripped the sword free from its sheath, unveiling refined steel that reflected the flames in its pristine surface. Roland yelled as he drove the sword straight into the lycan's shoulder, the blade puncturing its hide and hitting muscle. The act wounded him as much as it did the beast. Beneath that monster, there was a scared child who needed help, not the business end of a sword. Roland pressed both his feet against the lycan's chest and launched it off him with a firm shove. He was very fortunate this lycan wasn't as big as a mature adult or it could have crushed him under its weight alone.

Roland scrambled to his feet, blade raised defensively. He called the girl, "Child, can you hear me in there? Listen, this whole place is coming down! I'm trying to help you. I don't want to hurt you!" He positioned himself in front of the window at the end of the hall. If the lycan charged again, well, at least they had an emergency exit.

 

[Willowmere]

The anger seeped deep into her mind, casting any rational thought into a deep chasm. If she were calmer, she might have been able to remain in control but she had long since lost her composture. Even as her shoulder dripped thick crimson fluids into the wooden planks underneath, all she could think of was ripping open the man's armor and feasting in the sweet flesh within.

When he spoke, her ears twitched. Though her thoughts were blurred, she still recognized the words being spoken- but her anger was too great. She ignored them and crouched down on all fours, ready to pounce at any moment. She watched the man and his sword warily- still conscious of the wound on her shoulder even through her hazed stated.

But when she saw him standing back against the window, with the moon glowing at his back, she a memory from long ago briefly flashed through her mind.

It was her brother, talking down to her and speaking of the many monsters he would slay and trophies he would collect once he left the house for the world beyond. She remembered how they laughed together and the hug they shared. How he promised to come back and bring with him many gifts and stories to tell her and her parents. It was a memory that filled her with joy. She had still held hope that he would return even after four years had passed with no news at all.

He promised to come back.

He never came back.

And now here he was, bringing with him neither gifts or stories, but fire and death. Her mind twisted the image before her into that of her brother holding up a sword with a cocky grin on his face. She was a monster. He knew she was a monster. Of course he did! Who else would? And he had come back to slay her once and for all. A deep sense of disgust welled in her gut.

She looked into his eyes, and saw them falter for the faintest second. Whether it was due to the smoke or something else she didn't know. She didn't care. It was an opportunity and she would take it.

She leapt at him, their bodies crashing through the window. As they fell, they tangled with each other, a brief struggled that ended up with her falling down first with her back against the ground. The would land on top of her, and as she prepared to tear into him, she crashed into the ground and something hard hit her head.

Everything started to go black as she lost consciousness, and began reverting into her original, human form.

 

[RhenVao]

The hot air stung Roland's eyes and he instinctively blinked. That proved to be all that was needed. In half a second, the young lycan had crossed the hall and tackled him right through the window. The crash of glass filled Roland's ears, followed by the rush of wind as they plummeted from the second story toward the earth.

Roland instinctively rolled with the lycan through air, ensuring the beast would break his fall. They crashed into the ground with a dull thud, kicking up a dust cloud. Roland tumbled off the fallen beast and rolled off to the side, lying flat on his stomach. He could hear the startled whines of Adelaide close by. He turned his head, checking on the lycan. It had landed head first. It hadn't moved since the impact. Only when the fur retracted into skin and the beast's massive frame shrank into the unconscious form of the girl did Roland release the breath he'd been holding.

He sat up, rubbing the back of his head as he took large intakes of fresh, clean oxygen. The foul odor of smoke was still close, but at least he wasn't directly inhaling the stuff. He felt Adelaide's snout rub against the side of his face and his hand stroked it affectionately. "I'm fine, girl. I'm fine."

He looked at the unconscious girl, his eyes swelling with pity. Could she have been why the fire was set? It wasn't uncommon for scared, outraged peasants to work themselves into a frenzied mob that called for the blood of the beast that terrorized them. But how could they condemn the parents to the pyre for the crime of loving their child in spite of their affliction?

He stood up and trudged toward the fallen girl, kneeling beside her to get a closer look. She couldn't have been anymore than thirteen or fourteen-years-old. Such a young age. He scooped his arms under the child's body and lifted her up. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you away from this place."

Toomes Peak wasn't an option anymore, at least not until he could be certain the child wouldn't have another outburst in public. She'd be hunted down by the city watch or worse, someone would call the Templars and she'd have no chance of survival.

He would have to camp for the night.

 

[Willowmere]

When Mynnow woke up, she was greeted by the embrace of an unfamiliar linen sheet instead of the fur blanket she had slept with for years. 'Where am I?' She wondered as her bleary eyes recognized her surroundings as the inside of a small, simple tent.

The morning sun's glow soaked through the thin walls of the tent, and a familiar stuffed bear lied on a corner merely an armsreach away. She sat up and rubbed her eyes before flinching. Her arm was bandaged, though she could barely feel any pain from it. It had probably mostly healed while she was sleeping, one of the few positive gifts of her curse.

She peeked outside and saw she was in a clearing somewhere in the forest. A horse was tied to a tree with a thick rope and chewed lazily on the grass while an unfamiliar person tended to it, and in the middle of the clearing were the burned remains of an extinguished campfire.

Burned remains.

She held her head and shut her eyes with a grimace. She took in deep breaths and suppresed the image that had wormed it's way to the front of her thoughts, blinking away budding tears.

The stranger was busy tending to the mare with his back to her. She slowly stood up and realized that her clothes had several rips and tears, but thankfully still were serviceable. She hadn't completely transformed.

She took her old bear and slowly walked out of the tent, careful not to make any sound. The stranger didn't look like a Templar, at least the few she had seen in her life, but she wasn't entirely sure what his intentions were.

She was halfway through to the treeline when the mare made eye contact with her and suddenly neighed, startling her enough to trip. She spun in the air just enough to land on her uninjured shoulder, though she still let out a grunt.

Her head snapped to the stranger.

RhenVao

 

[RhenVao]

"Whoa, girl!" Roland held up his hands, trying to calm Adelaide. "Easy, easy!" He stroked her neck and petted her head to ease her nerves. "What's got you spooked?" Adelaide sputtered and raised her snout, pointed behind Roland. He turned to see the little girl sprawled on the forest floor, looking up at him with what he could only guess was apprehension and fear.

Roland slowly turned his body to face her, keeping his hands raised to communicate he wasn't a threat. "Hey there," he said softly. "You hit your head and I carried you away from the house. Did you sleep well? I hope it wasn't too stiff." He stepped toward her, keeping eye contact through his helmet. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. Okay?" When he got close enough, Roland slowly knelt down, then removed his helmet, setting it on the floor beside him.

He was a young man in his early thirties with weathered, fair skin that gave him a gritty visage. His short brown hair was messy, sticking up in small tufts of spikes. A short beard covered his lower jaw and his brown eyes had a soft gleam that he hoped would ease the girl's nerves.

"You gave me quite a scare last night." He tapped his fingers along his armored kneecap, chewing his bottom lip. His eyes gravitated toward her bandaged shoulder and felt a twinge of guilt. "Sorry about your shoulder, but I had to defend myself. I patched it as best I could." This was getting awkward. He finally settled on proper introductions. "I'm Roland." He gestured to himself, pressing a hand against his own chest. "Sir Roland Lionel, Knight Errant of Nadal. What's yours?"

 

[Willowmere]

"I-I..." She stuttered. "Y-you are not a templar?" She mumbled, sitting up and scuttling back. 'Of course he isn't!' She chided herself. 'I would already be dead!'

"I... My name is Mynnow." She finally answered as she looked at his face. "Just Mynnow." She added sheepishly after realizing he had given him more than one name. Commoners like her didn't get surnames.

'That doesn't matter now.' She told herself. Why had he helped her? Her memories weren't very clear, but she was sure that he had seen her transform. She had even attacked him! Tried to kill him! Rip out his throat and-

She shuddered and sighed wearily, her hand trembling and her good arm crushing the old, soot covered bear against her side. She was still not at her most emotionally stable moment.

"Why are you... Why did you save me?" She asked with a frown, avoiding his eyes. Her parents told her that if she ever met someone with more than one name, she should be careful of offending them in anyway.

 

[RhenVao]

Roland raised a brow when asked if he was a Templar, then wondered if the girl had ever seen one before. Templars wore very distinct armor that was of greater quality than even the best state-issue knight armor. Thick black plating with white highlights, their helmets sporting the holy cross that was etched into the front plate. Their armor stood out and anyone who spotted their cross-marked helmets did well to stay out of their way, lest they and their families regret it.

The girl replied with her name; Mynnow, no surname. It wasn't uncommon for Nadal peasants to lack a surname. Surnames were reserved for individuals who had attained a status of importance or established a known lineage. Royalty, barons, even upper-tier knights. This was to ensure no one rode to success on the name of their family alone, but through their deeds. Roland thought it a silly law all the same, but such was the way of bureaucrats.

Mynnow avoided his gaze, asking why he'd saved her life. Roland was surprised with how immediate his reply was, "Because I couldn't live with myself or be worthy of knighthood if I left an innocent child to perish." He bent over, trying to catch her eyes. "Mynnow, please look at me." He made sure to use her name, hoping it would attract her attention. "I don't know how you're suffering from lycanthropy at such a young age, but it makes no difference to me. You're still a child and are as deserving of life as anyone else." The image of those burned bodies together in death flashed through his mind once again. He extended his arm, offering a hand to help her up. "Come with me. I'll look after you for the time being."

 

[Willowmere]

Mynnow felt conflicted as she met eyes with the person before her, Sir Roland, but she carefully took his extended hand. His grip was firm, but she suspected it he was being as gentle as he could. Could she trust him? Should she?

She didn't have much choice. She was... Alone, now.

"I um. Thank you sir Roland." She said, her tone so low it might have been a whisper. She stood up with his aid and took a short step back. He claimed to be a Knight Errant, something she wasn't so sure what it meant, but if he was a Knight then maybe he could be trusted after all.

"D-do you have clothing I could use?" She stuttered. Her simple dress was somewhat damaged after the... Incident. Though she doubted a wandering knight would go around with clothing fit for 14 years old commoners.

Her stomach grumbled lightly, and a small blush came over her cheeks. "And some f-food?" She mewled in an even lower voice. If her other half had been justified in something, it had been in hunger.

 

[RhenVao]

Roland smiled as he helped Mynnow up. He'd successfully gotten his foot in the door with her, which was a step-up from her wanting to tear out his throat last night. Now, there was the problem of clothing and food. The transformation had left her thin night gown in tatters and she hadn't had a good meal since last night at the very earliest. Come to think of it, he was feeling famished himself. Fortunately, he had a short-term remedy.

"One moment," he said, then walked toward Adelaide. He opened his one of satchels strapped to her harness and procured a cloak and some bread wrapped in cloth. He threw the cloak around Mynnow and fastened the hood over her head. The hood nearly covered her entire face. Roland stifled an amused chuckle. She was awfully small for its size, but it would suffice until he could find more appropriate clothing.

"This should keep you covered until we get to town." He deposited the bread into her hands. "Here, eat this. It's not much, but we'll eat a real meal soon."

After collecting his camping materials, Roland picked Mynnow up in his arms, then walked toward Adelaide. The mare whined nervously. "It's alright, girl. She was just scared, that was all." He set the girl onto Adelaide's back, then climbed on himself. "We're about an hour out from the nearest town, but they should have fresh food and clothes."

He flicked the reins and guided his steed back onto the stone-laden path toward Toomes Peak. They were still a ways out from town, but if he picked up the pace, they could be there within the hour. He could definitely use a good meal after the craziness that unfolded last night.

One lingering question still wormed its way into his conscience, though.

Just who set that fire?

 

[Willowmere]

Thadeus Helsen felt the biting cold of the night slip through the gaps in his helmet, and scrunched his nose in discomfort. Besides him stood Bethesda Marath with her metallic mask gleaming in the moonlight. Even when alongside his humongous frame, she was imposing on her own.

They walked along the desolate dirt road of a small rural town. Ashwood was large enough to no longer be considered a village, or so it's Lord- a budding Baron- claimed. Most residents were asleep this late at night, and they specifically chose to come slightly after midnight in order to take their target by surprise.

If they were correct though- and they were- the vampire would be preparing to go out to sink it's disgusting fangs into the neck of an unsuspecting neighbour. The guard had let them through without a word, and several pairs of eyes watched them from alleys and closed wooden windows as they confidently strode through the town in silence, but soon they stood before what should be, by all means, an absolutely normal house.

It was an old thing, made mostly of wood with a cobblestone base, but the smoke coming out of a chimney was all they needed to see to know that their target- a man in their mid twenties with ginger hair- was still in the house.

Thadeus verified that there were no exits other than the entrance door and a small wooden window slightly off to the side, before looking at Bethesda and signalling her to watch the window before knocking on the door with a heavy fist.

A young woman opened the door, dirty blonde hair and freckled face. She looked confused, then scared as she took in their weapons and armour. He didn't miss the sweat forming on her brow.

"Inquisitor business. Where is your husband."

 

[RhenVao]

Bethesda stood off to the side, letting her more imposing partner start the conversation. That was their usual routine. It put the subject more at ease if the more obviously intimidating person came across as calm and reasonable. Her eyes scanned the inside of the house, her metal mask reflecting in the window.

"My apologies, Inquisitor," the woman sputtered, still overwhelmed with shock. "I'm afraid he is out of town."

"There's been word of strange activity around your home," Bethesda said. "Whispers of a nightwalker. As you know, it is our duty to inspect these troubling reports."

The woman gulped. "I understand, Inquisitor."

"We shouldn't discuss this here. It would make people nervous. May we continue this inside?" Her tone was even, firm, but non-confrontational. Confronting her immediately would only make her clam up.

 

[Willowmere]

They stepped into the house, making sure to close the door behind them. They entered a small living room with a chimney set into one wall. There was a rough table with chairs around it in the center of the room and a black iron oven in the wall opposite the chimney.

The woman invited them to sit, but Thadeus refused. He looked around the room, noticing two doors at the far back. If their target was still in the house, then he would be in one of the rooms.

And if he wasn't, then he would be back before dawn.

"A fair home, you've got here." Thadeus pointed out, laying his back against the wall to keep his field of view across the entire room.

"Thank you sir." The woman replied a bit too quickly. "W-would you like something to drink?" She stuttered, avoiding looking at them directly.

Most people were intimidated by the inquisitors. Rightfully so, Thadeus thought, given their appearance and demeanor.

Only the guilty were afraid.

"No need. We are just going to ask a few questions." He replied and gestured for her to sit at the table with a gauntleted hand. She complied.

He let it up to his partner to talk to the woman as he watched the two doors for any movement.

 

[RhenVao]

Bethesda helped herself to the chair adjacent from the woman. She took a moment to watch the young lady squirm. "Something wrong?"

The woman pursed her lips together. "My apologies, ma'am. I'm just a little nervous. I've never had Inquisitors in my home before."

Bethesda rested her left hand on the table, her clawed gauntlets lightly tapping against the wood with dull, gentle thuds. "As long as you cooperate and answer my questions honestly, you have nothing to be nervous about." She kept her voice soft, soothing even. "What is your name?"

"Jennifer."

"I assume you know our job, Jennifer?"

"To kill monsters?"

"That's the most basic interpretation of our motto, but not inaccurate. Specifically, our duty is to ensure humanity's continued survival against the dark forces that infect this world we call home. We swear to defend the whole of humanity from all threats, be they foreign, such as monsters, or domestic, those who would betray their fellow man for power promised by these dark forces." Bethesda procured a book from a satchel bag that hung loosely at her side, then set it onto the table. She opened the book, its leather spine crackling as the pages fluttered open. "This here is a record of all residents in Ashwood that was conducted six months ago. Every family, every man, woman, and child was accounted for. Four months ago, a women, Maria Vonkursk, disappeared for a week before she was found dead in the street. Stripped naked, drained of blood, two bite marks in her neck."

"A horrible thing, what happened to her," Jennifer said, her voice shaking as she remembered the day the corpse was discovered.

Bethesda hummed, then flipped the page. "The following months, three more women would disappear before they were found, all stripped naked and drained and of blood. One body a month. We've established a pattern. Most of the activity occurred within the vicinity of your home. Also of note, your husband is absent during the timeframe of the victims." She shut the book, then glared across the table. "Protocol dictates that we conduct a thorough search of your premises. If any irregularities are found, rest assured they will be, we are to file a report and take you in for lying to an Inquisitor and abetting an abomination."

Jennifer's face was growing pale now. Bethesda continued, "However, if you have something to tell us that would render a search unnecessary and make the execution of our duty easier, you will not accrue a severe punishment. This is a crossroads, Jennifer. The moment that could decide your life."

 

[Willowmere]

Jennifer felt her heart sink as both Inquisitors watched her carefully. She hid her sweating hands under the table and looked down, trying to supress the grimace forming on her face.

"I-" She started, "I don't know what you are talking about." She said, meeting the eyes of Bethesda. "My husband is out of town and we have never had anything to do with any nightwalker."

Thadeus frowned under his helmet and stopped leaning against the wall. "Then we will have to search your house." He spoke gravely, staring at the woman. She avoided his gaze, looking at the table with a concerned face.

He grunted, and turned to the two doors at the back. They were both wooden and nearly identical. He walked up to the one on the left and unsheathed a shortsword coated in silver- his halberd was too large to be used inside such a small building.

An empty bedroom greeted his eyes. He slowly entered it, eyes turning left and right. A shared bed, a small nightstand and a wooden closet in the corner.

He looked under the bed. Nothing.

He threw open the closet, blade in hand ready to impale anyone hiding within.

Nothing.

He turned towards the door, and just as he was about to head out, he stopped. He tightened his hold of his blade, before looking up at the roof.

A pair of nervous eyes met his.

---

A man came flying out of the bedroom and into the living room, startling Jennifer. He crashed against a wall and quickly stood up. His eyes darted around the room in a panic, searching for thr door between ragged, panicked breaths- with a pair of unnaturally long and sharp teeth visible on his mouth.

Thadeus stomped out of the room, sword in hand, but the vampire was already darting towards the exit. "Bethesda!" He shouted as he began to give chase.

 

[RhenVao]

Bethesda knew of the second presence the moment they'd entered the house, and fully expected him to flee Thadeus when he investigated the bedroom. With one swift motion, she flung her arm outward and hurled a knife that embedded itself into the fugitives back, earning a satisfying cry of pain as their body crumpled to the floor. She folded her arms behind her back and calmly approached the vermin as it feebly clawed its way across the floorboards, still trying to reach the door.

"Thadeus, watch her," she said, referring to Jennifer in her seat. She would be dealt with in time; for now, this monster demanded her immediate attention. She stomped her foot onto the fanged creeper's hand, producing soft cracking noises as her boot crushed the knuckles. He yelled out in agony, then pressed his head against the floor, gritting his teeth in hopes to swallow the pain. She grabbed him by the hair and forced him to look up at her. "Your bloodletting days are over, fiend."

"Please," he said, his voice quivering. "I can't help it. I just get so hungry! If I don't have blood, I'll--"

Bethesda withdrew a dagger from the sheathe in her hip and pressed the edge against his throat. "This blade has been blessed by our most experienced Apothecaries, specifically to purge the likes of you. I can end it now or end it slow for every dame you seduced into your clutches."

"Please!"

Bethesda felt her heart jump. She loved it when they begged, the moment the monster realized they were, in fact, the hunted. And what sweeter feeling than being hunted by the race they victimized for so long? She said nothing as she yanked the vampire to his feet and brought him into a headlock. She pulled his head back, exposing her throat and ensuring Jennifer had a clear view of what she would do next. In one motion, Bethesda slashed open the vampire's throat, leaving a gaping wound about an inch deep that sprayed blood all along the walls and floor. Bethesda's expression was hidden behind her stoic mask, but she took perverse pleasure in the thing's desperate struggles and gurgled gasps for air.

She didn't stop holding his wound open, even when the blood spattered onto her once clean uniform. She waited only he stopped making noise before letting his body fall to the floor. Then, she sheathed her knife, folded her arms behind her back, then walked toward Jennifer. With a tilt of her head, she asked, "Did you know he was hiding in your home?"

One more chance. She would offer one more chance for redemption.

 

[Willowmere]

Jennifer's heart sank as she watched her lover fly across the room and crash against the wall. Then she watched in horror as a woman around the same age as herself nailed a knife throw into his back as he desperately attempted to flee.

She cried out when he was brought to her, and stared at his eyes while he was mercilessly executed before her. How they were full of fear and desperation. How he begged her to do something with just the look on his face. How the life slowly left him through the slash on his neck and the light faded from his eyes.

Then the Inquisitor asked something. She didn't listen. Her gaze was glued to the corpse of her dead husband, unbelieving and unable to comprehend.

She started crying.

"That's enough." Thadeus spoke, his voice firm and stern. "This woman will be taken to trial." He said venomously, his hand gripping Jennifer's shoulder with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

He took no joy in the suffering of others, but this woman had allowed her husband to murder four other, innocent people. For that, little better than the bloodsucker in his eyes.

He was even slightly tempted to strike her down on the spot as Bethesda no doubt also was, but murdering a defenseless woman would leave him feeling distasteful.

"Our job here is done." He said to his partner. "The guard will come soon."

 

[RhenVao]

Bethesda heard her partner's counsel and, mercifully, backed off to give the grieving woman some space. Their business was concluded, the target was eliminated, and soon things could return to relative normalcy and the afflicted families had closure. Then came the least appealing part of her job. Paperwork. Lots of paperwork. Ensuring a detailed report was on hand allowed the Templars to keep track of what town was afflicted, which ones were clear, what targets were active and so on. She hated bureaucracy, but acknowledged its importance.

When they had left the house, she said, "Cross Ashwood off the list. One afflicted, one conspirator. The town watch will hold her until the company passes through to take her into Templar custody for trial."

Technically, Ashwood's Baron should have held the trial as this fell under his jurisdiction, but he lacked the spine, or perhaps had the wisdom, to say defy the decree of an Inquisitor. Besides, she doubted his ability to dole proper punishment; anything less than death would have been a grievous miscarriage of justice.

And justice mattered more to Bethesda than anything else. These beasts deserved death. Every single one, with extreme prejudice.

---

Toomes Peak was one of the bigger towns on the East side of the White Mountains. A sprawling civilization carved into the side of the mountain itself, the average citizen had easy access to a view of the whole valley before them. It wasn't uncommon to find villagers spending time on one of the many observatories just admiring the view as they talked of familiar things.

It didn't take much convincing for the guards to allow Roland entry. Knight Errants were highly respected and most cities were open to them, be it on business or personal ventures. So long as he didn't cause trouble, the gate guards wouldn't fuss.

Roland's first act upon arrival was to hand Adelaide to the stable master and have her taken care of. Once done, he knelt before Mynnow and offered his hand. "Alright, let's get you cleaned up and we'll grab us a meal. Sound good?"

 

[Willowmere]

Mynnow spend the majority of the ride in silence, her eyes mostly staying on the road. Though it was a trek she had done many times before, riding along the road instead of having to walk through the forest was a novel experience to her, but one she couldn't bring herself to fully enjoy. She watched as the trees went by, the forest seemingly empty and devoid of any visible fauna except for the occasional bird watching them from a tree.

Eventually, they broke through the treeline and into a vast field, with the familiar walls of Toomes Peak now visible in the distance. She was slightly surprised to have arrived so quickly, being unused to horseback transportation, but nevertheless she held the cloak closer to her body. She had never been in the town without both of her parents by her side, and coming here with a man she'd just met felt unsettling.

They were let through the gate with minimal fuss, yet another unexpected thing, and they soon found themselves leaving their horse at an stable.

"Alright, let's get you cleaned up and we'll grab us a meal. Sound good?"

Mynnow nodded, but didn't take his extended hand. She was brought to an inn, where she discarded her tattered clothing in exchange for a simple linen tunic and pants, and soon found herself seated at a table with a warm stew before her, still wearing the cloak- though with the hood drawn back.

The stew felt bland and somewhat tasteless, unlike what she was used to have, but she still took spoonfuls from it at a slow pace. There were many other tables, with other people talking to each other loudly- some of them slightly drunk, even at this hour of the day-, with a lively fire in a hearth bathing the large room with a slight orange tint. For her, though, it all felt muted and colorless except for the bright orange flames that she did her best to ignore, even as they danced and bent and twisted themselves in a golden dance, attempting to get her attention.

Across from her sat the man who had rescued her, her saviour. She didn't know how to feel about him. Grateful? She was, deep down, but she also felt a small amount of bitterness. Would her family have been saved if the man arrived a few minutes sooner?

She knew it was not his fault, however, and cast away those thoughts. It was too late now, and it didn't matter. Not anymore.

"I don't know what to do." The girl said suddenly, her eyes flitting to the stew. She really didn't know what would be of her. She knew she was a monster, though her parents had never called her such. She had relied on them for essentially her entire life, and now they were gone.

She felt empty and lost.

 

[RhenVao]

Roland ate with Mynnow in relative silence, neither willing to strike up conversation. It wasn't for lack of subjects to discuss, but after the harrowing events of the previous night, it didn't feel like the appropriate time or place. He kept his head on a swivel, eyes surveying the inn around him. Although he had no reason for anyone to assume Mynnow was anything more than a quiet child, he still couldn't help but be plagued by lingering feelings of suspicion. Inns were a nice place to relax and decompress, but sitting across from a lycan had a way of polluting that natural ease one would feel in such a public environment.

He lowered his spoon, letting it rest along the rim of his boal when Mynnow voiced her uncertainty of what to do. His heart immediately ached for her. No child in her predicament should ever have to ask that question. She was still so young, dependant on her parents for support, and those pillars were cut out from under her. He wanted to reach out and offer a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she seemed to shy away from physical contact earlier. His words would have to do for now.

"It's going to be alright," he said. "I won't leave you to figure this out on your own. Do you have any other immediate relatives who can take care of you?" It felt like the natural question to ask, given the circumstances. But then a while slew of questions flooded his conscience. Do they know of her affliction? Were her parents shunned by their own family because of their daughter? If this were a secret and they found out, would they report her to the Templars? A chill slithered up his spine and stung his neck.

 

[Willowmere]

Mynnow shrank slightly in her seat, pondering the question in silence. Her parents had never spoken about the wider family, at least not in front of her. Whenever she inquired, they told her not to worry about it. Her grandparents- all four of them- were deceased, and she had no uncles or aunts to speak of.

Other than her parents, the only relative she'd ever truly met was her brother... Who had yet to return from his so called adventures.

Mynnow shook her head lightly and continued drinking from her stew, trying to wash away the thoughts of her estranged brother. Perhaps he was still out there, fighting monsters and plundering riches.

Or dead in a ditch.

"I have no one else." Mynnow said softly, ignoring the deep, growling voice in her head. It was just her curse, trying to weaken her resolve and take over her mind once again. Make her lose herself.

She stared into the baleful orange flames, still crackling in their fireplace. "It's just me now."

 

[RhenVao]

Roland frowned. Poor thing. Her parents were all she had in this world and in one night, they were gone. No immediate relatives to speak of. He stood up and rounded the table to kneel in front of her, eyes locked onto hers. "Not anymore. I'll look after you." At least until I can find someone better to care for her..

He wasn't a parent; in fact, he deemed himself the least qualified person to undertake such a responsibility, but his personal code dictated he assumed the role of guardian until he could ensure Mynnow's future. He forced a smile and rested a hand atop her head, gingerly ruffling her hair. "I won't let anyone hurt you, that is my promise to you as Knight Errant."

A Knight Errant's word was highly respected. If they gave their word, they were expected to keep it. Going back on your word was as an egregious form of misconduct among Knight Errant circles. Roland, like his comrades, placed much stock in his promises, and by gods, he would keep them.

He removed his hand from her hand and held it front of her to take. "If by death I can protect you, I will."