He looked exactly as David had described, from his bare, scar covered, muscular arms, to the bizarre armor he wore. The mix of chainmail, steel plates, and exotic looking beast hides all combined to give the man, who stood just as tall as Lucas, an appearance that was equal parts intimidating and confusing. It almost looked as if it had been pieced together by someone who didn’t quite understand how armor worked. None of that stood out half as much as the distinctive wolf-shaped helm the man wore, the eyes of which gleamed crimson with a clearly magical light.
“Captain Darlow,” the man growled. “You have let filth fester in your city. You have accepted bribes, and punished innocent men to cover up your own incompetence.” He bit out each word as he stepped into the room slowly, raising one clawed finger to point at the stunned, furious Captain.
“Who do you think you a-hk,” Darlow was cut off as the hand the man had pointed towards him abruptly shifted, stretching unnaturally as it crossed the room and clamped down on the older man’s throat. Then the hand… hissed?
Indeed, where the man’s hand had once been, a long, pitch black serpent now lay, attached to the end of his wrist and hissing menacingly at the adventurers as it tried to crush the Captain’s windpipe.
“You can leave,” The killer offered. “Don’t need to kill you. Just him.”
Lucas responded by taking a swing at the absurdly long ‘body’ of the dark scaled serpent with his glaive. The weapon bounced harmlessly off the snake’s rock hard scales, but still managed to elicit a growl from the monstrous man.
“Fine!” He snarled, a sudden rage filling his voice as the adventurers closed in around him. “Then Beast Knight will hunt you too! DIE!”
He moved with blinding speed, his snakelike arm retracting to pull his prey towards him even as he leapt past the adventurers into the room. For a moment, Lucas felt a flicker of satisfaction. His enemy had made a critical error almost immediately, abandoning an easy choke point and moving to the middle of the room where he could be easily surrounded by the guards now streaming down the stairs to come to their Captain’s aid.
Then, the mountain of a man that stood before them roared, and all hope was lost.
Lucas felt his muscles lock up as his blood turned to ice in his veins. He knew it was some sort of mental magic, but unlike the trap from the dungeon, it was so overwhelmingly powerful he couldn’t break free, couldn’t move so much as an inch. He was stunned, paralyzed by dread and an all-consuming certainty that if he so much as blinked, he would die.
He wasn’t the only one, either. Every living person in that room, other than Beast Knight himself, felt that overwhelming terror…
Yet one of them could still move.
Vivi darted forwards, unimpeded by the dread brought on by the feral shapeshifter’s roar. Her blade lanced forwards, catching the killer by surprise and piercing straight through his arm at the point just before pale skin turned to black scales. He jerked back, snarling in pain and surprise like a wounded beast and releasing his grasp on Darlow as his hand returned to its original state.
“HOW?” he demanded as she pulled her blade free, his words coming out in a halting snarl. “You move? Should know death! FEAR!”
Vivi smiled as she ducked under an abrupt swipe of the man’s freshly grown claws.
“I fear many things,” she said quietly as she held up one hand, her palm held outwards. “Death is not one of them. Shatter!”
The sound of thunder filled the tower as the monstrous shapeshifter staggered, clawing at his own helmet as he howled in pain.
The frozen warriors nearly fell to the ground as the terror locking them in place fell away. One of the guards actually did fall, his armor clattering as he fell down the stairs. Beast Knight moved on pure instinct, his head snapping in the direction of the sudden noise as he leapt backwards… and leaving him distracted for just long enough for the freshly freed Lucas to slam his glaive into the man’s stomach with all his strength. The blow was never going to do much to hurt the killer, blocked as it was by a thick steel plate, but that had never been the werewolf’s intention. The force behind the blow, even blunted as it was, sent the man stumbling back a step - right into a gout of flame from one of Damaia’s gauntlets. Snarlingin pain, he whipped towards the source of his pain, turning one of his hands in a massive draconic claw and using it a shield to block the fiery assault. Spotting the horned girl, he threw himself through the flames and wrapped his scaled fingers around the engineer's torso, her armor screeching in protest as the metal began to deform.
Terrified that he might simply choose to crush the felblood, Jubel acted on instinct. He’d never been properly trained in the ways of magic, never taught the dangers of uncontrolled casting or shown the graphic, magically recorded images of what the aftermath of catastrophic spell failure looked like.
That’s why he had no idea that, from the perspective of a caster, the spell he was channeling looked like an empty, suicidal threat. Pointing the empty hilt of his magical weapon at the shapeshifting murderer, the half elf focused, pouring every ounce of strength he had left into a single spell. The world shimmered and twisted around him, pitch black flames flickering around the edges of his quickly fading vision as he spoke softly in words nobody else could understand.
“Embrace your end - Void Lance!”
A spear of darkness with a head nearly as tall as the half elf himself tore the air, studded with gleaming points of light and swirling constellations of raw energy as it slammed into the murderer, slamming him into the far wall with enough force to crack the stone. For the second time that evening, Beast Knight’s grip was forcibly loosened, and his foe, his prey, escaped.
Snarling, the dazed killer rolled to his feet as best he could, glaring at the half elf that had managed to wound him.
Jubel was swaying, the room around him blurring as his body tried desperately to fight off the oncoming wave of exhaustion his spell had left in its wake, but it was no use. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.
That didn’t dissuade the vicious shapeshifter now barreling towards him, though. If anything, it seemed to infuriate Beast Knight further, as if being wounded by someone so weak was a grave insult. Lucas threw himself at the man, trying to knock him to the ground before he could reach his friend’s prone body, but to his horror, Beast Knight simply grabbed him out of the air and tossed him across the room in one smooth motion.
Dazed and winded, Lucas could only watch in horror as the furious monster neared Jubel’s unconscious body and raised one massive, beastly claw high above him-
Only to be interrupted by Vivi for a second time, the girl darting past him and slicing at the backs of his legs with a blade now wreathed in a shimmering, crackling field of magical energy. While the furs wrapping the killer's legs were sturdy enough to stop her from hamstringing him, they couldn’t block the blows entirely, and fresh blood began to drip to the floor as he turned towards her with a growl.
“Enough,” he snarled as he blurred into motion, grabbing the elf by the throat and slamming her into the cold stone floor. “You die first!” He slammed her head against the stones once, then twice -
The third blow was interrupted by Damaia, who leapt on the bastard’s back and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to choke him, but it was no use. Beast Knight snarled, turning his arms into serpents once more in an attempt to reach and restrain the desperate felblood as her desperate flailing managed to grab on to something near his neck.
A small, silver pendant in the shape of a crescent moon gleamed in the fading light streaming in through the doorway, pressed tight against the murderer’s throat as Damaia tried to use the chain holding it as a garrote.
Lucas froze, staring at the pendant. He recognized it. How could he not, when the second half of it lay just beneath his armor?
He didn’t even realize that he’d transformed until he was already almost on the bastard. His clawed hands left a deep gash on the murderer’s arms, slicing through the thick scales protecting them with ease. The snarl he got by way of reply evoked something primal in him - an overwhelming desire to tear the man apart, to prove his strength -
He held it off, instead taking the chance to cut the chain around the man’s neck, sending Damaia toppling to the floor and throwing the armored killer off balance. The opening was brief, but Lucas didn’t waste it.
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The werewolf lunged for the serial killer’s throat, only to be blocked by the massive, draconic claw that seemed to be one of his opponent’s favorite forms.
Lucas bit down anyway, feeling his teeth hit bone as his fangs effortlessly pierced the false dragonhide. This time, he drew a pained yowl from the self proclaimed Knight, and felt a rush of satisfaction.
It didn’t last.
Beast Knight’s body rippled as the already dim rays of the setting sun faded further, and with a surge of unbelievable strength, he ripped his wounded hand out of Lucas’ mouth and slammed his free hand into the lycanthrope’s chest with enough force to send him hurtling through the air once more. This time, the former soldier leapt to his feet immediately, not wanting to give his opponent the chance to press the advantage, only to see the ruined flesh of his enemy’s right hand visibly knitting itself back together.
Lucas was precise, disciplined, and deadly. He struck at his enemy’s weakest points, feinted, created openings and exploited them ruthlessly. He was a blur of fangs and fur, a deadly beast powered by righteous fury.
He was also utterly outclassed.
The Beast Knight threw him around like a ragdoll, slamming him into one wall after another, cracking his bones with every wild strike he landed and tearing through steel and flesh alike as he demolished Lucas’ armor.
For as long as the fight may have felt to him, it lasted a mere 30 seconds. The battered werewolf fell to his knees as pain overwhelmed his fury, and closed his eyes. He waited for the end, for one last sharp burst of pain to finish him off… but it never came.
“Give to me,” Beast Knight snarled. Lucas opened his eyes to see the monstrous form of the self proclaimed night stepping ponderously towards Damaia, who was forcing a pair of potions down the throats of their unconscious teammates. He howled at the felblood, rage, desperation and panic distorting his voice. “MY KILL! MY TREASURE! GIVE IT TO ME!”
Lucas ignored the sudden dread that threatened to overwhelm him with practiced ease. It didn’t matter if the fight seemed hopeless, or if the guards still scrambling to draw their weapons seemed as afraid of him as they were of the monster he was facing.
Those words drew out something feral in him. Something primal. Memories of a bloodstained camp flashed through his mind as the scar on his arm where he’d once been bitten began to itch.
He wouldn’t let that happen again.
He leapt at the monster that wore a man’s skin once more, his lips curled back into a feral snarl as he loosened the mental chains restraining his inner Beast. He grabbed the man shaped thing, and with all his strength, smashed his foe, his prey, into the cold, unforgiving stone floor. He didn’t strike with closed fists or overhand blows. He didn’t bash the bastard against the rocks repeatedly, as the man himself had so recently done with Vivi. Instead, he gave the wolf within free reign, watching with grim satisfaction as his claws tore the Beast Knight’s armor apart and set to work on the flesh beneath. He felt a flicker of pain as one long, snakelike arm rose from the floor and sank its fangs into his shoulder, but he ignored it. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now. Nothing but reducing the Beast Knight into a pile of bloody viscera. How dare he claim that pendant was his?! How dare he attack his team?
HOW DARE HE MAKE HIM REMEMBER THAT DAY?!
Then, he was hurled through the air once more, slammed into the wall with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. He tried to force himself to stand, to breathe, but his muscles refused to obey him.
Beast Knight stood before him, blood covering every visible inch of his ruined flesh. “You,” he said slowly, “are not prey.” He was shaking, though whether it was from pain or anger, Lucas couldn’t tell. The Beast Knight snarled as a few of the guards tried to approach him, their weapons drawn, but made no move to attack. He was staring at something. Lucas looked down and realized that, with his own armor ruined, the small sun shaped pendant he’d kept beneath it was now visible. In a blur, the man reached forwards and snatched the precious keepsake from around his neck, effortlessly snapping the silver chain that held it.
“Find the Fangs of Bleakwood,” the man said as the last rays of light from the setting sun began to fade and the moonless night began. “Bring my pendant. We will settle things there.”
Then the room went black. The guards scrambled, panicking once more as they tried to find and light the torches that lined the room, but by the time the flickering light of those feeble flames returned, he was gone.
----------------------------------------
Vivi groaned as her eyes fluttered open. Her head was killing her! And why was it so damn bright?
She blinked, staring up at the branches overhead. She could’ve sworn she was just inside - and wasn’t the sun just setting? Come to think of it, shouldn’t she hear the sounds of battle?
Now she lay atop an enormous hill, at the base of a massive, oddly familiar oak tree. The sunlight streamed through the leaves, warming her face, and the world was entirely silent except for the rustling of the leaves in the warm summer breeze.
Or at least, that was the case until a soft, familiar voice spoke from somewhere nearby.
“You’re finally awake.”
Vivi’s eyes went wide, and she scrambled to her feet as best she could, her head throbbing and vision blurring as her gaze fell on a pair of brilliant blue eyes.
The young woman that sat only a few feet from where she’d been lying was breathtakingly beautiful, doubly so in the elf’s eyes. Her shoulder length black hair was clean except for the large green leaf that seemed to stuck just above her left ear - a rounded ear that left no doubt that the girl was, or at least had been, human - and her long, black robes had a brilliant azure trim that glowed faintly with a magical light. That would’ve been the most eye-catching thing about her, if not for the fact that she hadn’t seemed to bother closing said robes all the way. A narrow strip of skin was visible from her neck to her navel, where a loose sash the same brilliant blue as her trim just barely held the edges of the robe together.
“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “awake is probably the wrong word. Your mind is here, but the rest of you is unconscious, so you’re… Aware? Let’s go with aware.”
“You…” Vivi swallowed hard, tears obscuring her already shaky vision as she held out one trembling hand. “You forgot to close your robes again,” she finished lamely, fighting back the urge to sob.
“Easy there, hun,” the girl said soothingly. “You’ve had a rough day. This is the second time in as many months you’ve almost died! Remind me to scold you about that later, by the way. If I still had a body, you’d have given me a heart attack!”
Vivi took a deep breath as she looked around at the picturesque, familiar hillside before turning back to the girl with a sad smile. “I’m dead, then? It’s… over?”
“You always were better at talking than listening,” the dark haired girl said in a slightly exasperated tone as she rose to her feet. “I just said, didn’t I? You nearly died. This isn’t the afterlife, it’s… a waiting room, I guess? Way prettier than the actual afterlife, as far as I’m concerned. But then, its built from your fondest memories, so I suppose I might not be the most objective judge of that.” She looked over to the elf with a sad smile.
“How many days did we spend beneath this tree?” she said wistfully.
“I… I’m sorry,” the elf managed to croak out. “I didn’t… I wasn’t -”
“Don’t,” the young woman held up a hand, cutting her off. “Wasn’t 40 years of beating yourself up enough for you?” Her smile turned sly. “Or are you secretly a masochist? You should really tell me these things, love. I’d be happy to -”
“STOP!”
The dark haired girl cackled at the furiously blushing elf. “If you want me to stop teasing you, you gotta have a less adorable reaction!”
“Be serious for once,” Vivi grumbled.
“Fine, fine. I guess that would be for the best… we don’t have much time, anyway.”
The elf shot the dark haired beauty a look of alarm. “What? Why?!”
The girl looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “You gotta go back, hun,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “If you don’t go one way or the other soon, you’ll end up… well, like me!”
“But I don’t want to leave!” Vivi insisted.
“Yes, you do,” the blue eyed girl insisted. “Take it from me - being dead is no fun.”
“But-”
“I don’t want to hear another ‘but’ unless you’re complimenting mine,” the girl interrupted, folding her arms huffily.
“Please stop that.”
“The wordplay, the innuendos, or the way I’m pushing up my cleavage?” the blue eyed girl asked curiously.
“Yes!” the elf half shouted
“Spoilsport…”
“I thought we were being serious?” the elf grumbled.
The young woman hesitated at that, flushing slightly. “You’re probably going to vanish soon,” she half whispered. “Like I said, you gotta go but… I missed you. Missed us. I just… wanted to feel normal for a minute.”
Vivi stepped forward, pulling the girl into a tight hug.
“I missed you too,” she said quietly.
They stayed that way for a long moment, enjoying each other's presence. Then, the robed girl reluctantly pulled away.
“We really don’t have much time left,” she said softly.
“I’ll bring you back,” Vivi whispered.
“I know you will,” the azure eyed young woman said softly, “but please… be careful. Oh, and try to relax every once in a while. If I told you once, I told you a thousand times, you’re way too tense! You should really get -”
“No need for that,” the red faced elf cut her off as the blue sky above began to fade. The dark haired young woman chuckled.
“Fine, fine. But you really should relax sometime! If you work yourself to death, who’s going to save me, huh?” The tree was gone now, and the ground was crumbling all around them. As the world began to fall away, Vivi felt soft lips graze her cheek, and heard that familiar voice whisper in her ear.
“Next time, let’s meet up on your side.”