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The Chronicle of the Wolves
Part TBD - The Hunt Continues

Part TBD - The Hunt Continues

Jeanne slowly opened her eyes, a soft glow from two candles resting on a small table placed next to the bed. She grabbed her head as a terrible headache broke the drowsy fugue fogging her mind. Dark beams stretching across the roof of the ceiling above her. “Where am I?” she asked.

“Back at the inn,” Leonidas said calmly as he wrung a wet cloth over a bucket of water. “You’ve been out for a few hours.”

“Don’t know what on earth I feel like, but it isn’t good.”

“I can’t imagine,” the doctor replied, “whatever magic you used was intense to put it lightly.”

“Oh, I feel a lecture coming on,” she said, resting her head back onto the pillow.

“I mean, this isn’t the dumbest thing I’ve seen you do with magic, and circumstances didn’t leave us with a lot of options.”

“I still feel like this should be leading up to a chewing out.”

“That’s because I think you’re prone to such things,” Cid said, as he entered the room. “How is Jeanne faring, doctor?”

“She recovering just fine,” Leonidas said putting the wet towel on her head. “Her body’s acclimation to magic means whatever she had less of a strain than someone completely unfamiliar with the energies.”

“You mean you don’t know what she did?”

“Wait, what?” Jeanne replied.

Leonidas shrugged. “I mean. I’ve heard of people being able to do feats like what you did, Jeanne, but most of the literature we have are myths, legends, and songs of warriors in the days before even the Rubicon Empire or The Age of Heroes. And lot of that we have to take with a great pinch of salt for artistic embellishments or some other ulterior design used to influence the narrative.”

“So, we don’t know what’s going on with me?” Jeanne asked, propping herself up with one arm, staring at Leonidas while holding the damp cloth to her head.

“As of right now, no. There are a few ideas I might have, but if we’re talking about confirmed postulations …”

“Laymen’s terms, Doc,” Jeanne replied.

“… sure ideas,” Leonidas continued, “then we’re going to be lacking on those for a while.”

Cid gave a low growl at the thought. “I’m not thrilled with not know what’s going on with you, Jeanne.”

“That makes two of us,” Jeanne replied.

“Until we get a better idea what’s going on, I’d prefer you take charge of support and Kel tend to front line duties.”

Jeanne scowled. “I’d like to note I’m not happy about this.”

“Duly noted, anything else?”

Jeanne shook her head. “No, I just wanted that in the records.”

“We should’ve had Hypatia up for that one,” Leonidas said to Cid.

“True,” Cid replied. “I’ll assess her on that for the time being. However, that doesn’t mean you’ll be holding down the fort until we leave.”

“Oh?” Jeanne replied with interest.

“Maeryn and Gabriel both have the brothers’ scents, now, and we can start following them with greater effect.”

“Well, that makes my mood a bit brighter,” Jeanne replied.

“I thought it would,” Cid said, “so get some rest, and be ready to move out in the morning. We have vampires to hunt.”

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***

Jeanne watched Gabriel, her spear resting comfortably in the folds her left arm, at the front of the group, with Kveldulf, Benkin and Cid following closely behind. The others were moving behind Jeanne, with Maeryn picking up the rear.

Jeanne rested her hand on the head of her hammer, her eyes moving around the forest as they progressed down the winding road before them, curving into deep darkened recesses of woods. This did little to temper her hand’s as they shook and jerked at perceived threats. She could feel her clothes begin matting to her skin from sweat while her toes tingled.

Turning back, she spotted Maeryn, who had an arrow notched and the string to her bow partially pulled back. The elven archer eye’s daring back and forth, occasionally turning to sniff the air or listen to a faint sound. But nothing came from the deepness of their surroundings than the scent of wet leaves and whistles of birds.

Perhaps this was the Sheperd’s way of giving us a reprieve, Jeanne thought to herself. Certainly, wouldn’t be turned away at this point. Jeanne wondered if the brothers were still watching from the distance? Were they holed up in some hole in the earth, waiting for their wounds to heal and be back on the move again? What thoughts were going through their minds as they were planning their next moves? Was there any thought process to their madness, or was madness all they had to offer?

Then a thought came giving her a cold shiver up her spine. What of those women who were traveling with them? What horrific existence were they forced to endure at the hands of two hell-born curs? And … weren’t there children with them too? Sheperd’s mercy, Jeanne thought, unable to fathom what a life like that must be for a child.

Gabriel stopped, holding up a flat hand to the others. Everyone halted in their steps as she turned back and signaled, A log cabin, single story, smoke coming out.

Kel, take Ben and Gab and scout the place out, Cid signaled, Everyone else, take cover and wait for orders.

Jeanne positioned herself to where she could see across where Kveldulf, Benkin and Gabriel were moving from the front of the cabin. The building was small, even for most cabins residing in the woods. The chimney jutted up tall, and there was only one window at this part of the house, and it rested near the doorway.

The door itself was closed, and the light from a fire inside illuminated some pots and pans hanging from the wall near a stove. Jeanne could smell the faint scent of meat cooking, one she couldn’t recognize before. As the three made their way to the building, Jeanne began hearing her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She felt her right hand firmly grip the handle of her war-hammer while her left formed a rock in her hand she was gripping tightly.

Gabriel using the head of the spear to press against the door slab. Gently pressing the door open, she slowly moved inside. Kveldulf followed with Benkin shortly behind. Once inside, there was a long silence throughout the area as Jeanne watched the front of the house. She pressed her lips together as she her finger tapped the ground rapidly.

She turned to see Cid and Maeryn looking at the house with a steady gaze. Leonidas and Hypatia looked around the area, trying to keep their anxiety from getting the better of them while they waited for the others. Silvius was wiping the sweat from his brow, his brow furrowing as the tension grew with each passing moment.

She began to feel a cold sensation come over her as Kveldulf walked out of the home. He showed no signs of physical harm, but his stance was stiff and his gaze was distant. The handle of his sword hung loosely in his fingers as he shuffled his body out into the open. Cid walked out of the brush, with Jeanne and the others shortly behind.

“What’s in there?” Cid asked.

Kveldulf slowly turned his gaze to their commander. The color now gone from his face and tears rolling down his cheeks. “It’s a slaughter house,” Kveldulf said in a hushed whisper.

Maeryn covered her nose, groaning as she turned away and began dry heaving. Hypatia and Silvius both tried comforting her as Jeanne threw a piece of cloth around her face and began moving into the home. Benkin moving from the home, his face frozen and eyes unable to close as he stepped out into the light.

As Jeanne walked in, the stench of putrid flesh hit her, even with the cloth on her face. She winced, recoiling at first before slowly becoming acclimated with the horrid scent. Inside the home was nightmare brought to life before her eyes. Much of the walls, floors and even the ceiling of the home was covered in dark blood. Furniture was broken and shattered, much like back in Sunnybrook. Some of the broken pieces were used as kindling for the hearth in the middle of the home.

The bodies of a man and woman were ripped apart. Skin removed, tongues and eyes were gone, and the torsos ripped open and whatever organs were inside had been taken out. The limbs had been severed and thrown onto the hearth to cook, some of the meat partially fed on. “I thought vampyres didn’t cook their meat?” Jeanne said aloud.

“They usually don’t, it doesn’t sustain our bodies much and some don’t take well to cooked meals,” Gabriel said, her voice was weak and beginning to break. She was sitting next to a crib, the frame broken and the blankets inside ripped to bloodied shred. A small stuffed animal made to look like a rabbit rested next to the bed. Large lacerations across its front, with the stuffing pouring out of the wounds.

“Was there anyone else in here?” Jeanne asked, looking around in horror.

“Two children,” Gabriel said, beginning to break down. “We think there were two. And we don’t know where the infant is.”

Gabriel began choking up, her arms wrapped around her chest as Jeanne came over.

“Come on,” Jeanne said, “you should get some air.”