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Message: <blockquote data-quote="jayaint" data-source="post: 1393984" data-attributes="member: 6154">Chapter TwoOnya and Thyr sat in the inn’s Great Room with concerned faces. Bhannimann had quickly been appraised of the situation and had found some blankets for the soaking arrivals. Onya tended and cured their wounds with another small flash of magical light. The two sat on low wooden chairs near the fireplace trying to keep warm. The four of them stared blankly ahead, not returning each other’s glances. Bhannimann kept trying to refill mugs or offer something from the larder.     Finally, the innkeeper pulled up a chair himself and sat, nervously looking from one face to the next.     The girl spoke out, stumbling over her words, speaking too quickly.    “I am very, very sorry. I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t know what those things were, or who was controlling them. I just didn’t know. I have endangered each of you, and I’m sorry.”    Onya cut her short, “Its okay. I promise it’ll be okay.”    She looked at him solemnly.     Onya spoke again, “Can you tell us who you are?”    The half-wolf, still short of breath with heaving flanks, stood up suddenly. Thyr leaped up in an instant also, though Onya’s hand was a calming presence on his arm. The half-wolf grunted uncomfortably and winced as though he was feeling intense pain. His body began to twitch and blur, like wax melting in the sun. Bhannimann felt ill watching muscles slide under skin of their own accord. Slowly the form settled and stilled, and a mild mannered elf of moderate height and sleight build stood peering back at them. Thyr’s mouth, though hidden under an unkempt moustache, was open in astonishment.     Onya smiled to himself, and patted Thyr’s muscular arm to have him retake his seat. His companion eased himself back down upon the chair.     “Well, that is quite an introduction, my friend,” Onya put forth, speaking in Elvish tongue.     The elf looked at Onya curiously and replied, “There are not many speakers of my tongue left in this world. And my name is Kantan’ner…”    “Which means ‘shapeless’,” Onya finished for him, “And it pains me to feel the growing absence of your language. My name is Onyanaa Qunataen'val” He switched to common and asked, “Tell us your story?”    The young girl looked up at Onya and inhaled.     “My name is Seren. I met Kantanar soon after running away from home. He was hiding in the woods around my hometown, stealing bits of food, and living in the wild because he was unable to control the beast inside of him. He threatened me, but I stood up to him. I was not going to allow my running away to end within sight of my home, within hours of leaving. I,” and she stopped here momentarily, “could sense his strife and confusion. He had good days and bad days. There would be times where I would not see him for days. But he would always come back and find me. We traveled a great distance away from my homeland.”    Kantanar spoke up, “I didn’t know where we were headed, and I don’t think Seren knew, either. But as we traveled, with her help, I was able to find ways to control this malady that plagues me.”    “Kantanar and I found this river about three weeks ago. We had come through a very rough and overgrown section of forest, and down through the rocky mountain passes. Upon reaching the river, we decided to camp for a day or so to rest. The first night, last night, we were set upon by a collection of creatures like none we had ever seen.”    The elf shivered at the thought, “They were gross distortions of humans or elves or something. Misbred, or pieced together, I could not tell. They seemed bent to their task as though under an invisible whip. We fended them off, but were unable to kill or drop one of them to get a better look. We packed our things this morning and set out along the river.”    Onya and Thyr looked nervously at each other. Uneasy, they remained silent and listened to Seren resume the tale.     “This evening, we could tell we were getting close to this settlement and our day seemed normal. There had been no signs of any disturbances near us. And as the rain clouds swept in over us, so did the sound of flapping wings. Those black reptilian creatures swarmed us just outside of town. I ran, thinking Kantanar was right behind me. But as I came into sight of this inn, I looked and he was not there, nor were the creatures. I, I… thought I had left my only friend in the world to die.” Her eyes welled with tears.     Kantanar looked at his companion with soft eyes. “I had chosen to lag behind. For survival’s sake, my body is able to do some things that it should not. I closed my eyes and concentrated intensely. I could feel the wings ripping out of my back and unfurling in the first drops of rain. I crouched and took to the air, taunting those scaly beasts. I flew just barely in front of them, tossed and turned by the growing storm. I landed on your roof, innkeeper.” His eyes were no longer soft and out of focus. They bored straight ahead into the floor as he spoke. Bhannimann and his two guests from earlier looked on in suspense.     “They surrounded me, however, keeping their distance from my shapechange, I believe. I found my body unable to hold its form any longer and my skin rippled and I crumpled up as I returned to my true self. They attacked.”    Seren wiped her cheeks and bit her lip, remembering. “I saw Kantanar on the corner of the roof and ran towards the inn. When I saw the creatures pounce upon him, I kind of blacked out. I felt a great surge of fear or excitement pass through me, and then I came to on this floor. Kantanar crashed to the ground just outside the door. You al know the rest.” Her tears began to fall again. Bhannimann leaned over and offered her a cloth napkin to dry her eyes.     The elf spoke up, “I guess that the stress from Seren’s mind had some effect upon my body, as did the surge of adrenaline from fighting. I was unaware that I had taken my wolfen form until the creatures flew away, and that… that thing tried to kill us.”    Onya stood and paced along the grain of the floorboards. Thyr sat back and exhaled loudly in amazement. Bhannimann, most likely in shock, just sat there silently, fidgeting with a loose thread on his trousers.     Seren and Kantanar finally seemed to catch their breath fully. Seren ran her hands through her tangled hair, shaking out some more rainwater.     Onya stopped pacing and looked at the other four in the room. His friend, the half-dwarf was fidgeting with his trusty warhammer, itching for another chance to fight. The elf was still looking at the floor, obviously carrying a larger burden than this nights fight and the pack on the ground next to him. Seren was trying to keep the blanket wrapped around her for warmth.     He knew there was much more to her than met the eye. His mind had opened up to hers in that moment of stress with astounding clarity. And as the pressure caved in on them, and the mysterious figure above them threatened to end their life, it was some kind of projection from her mind that caused him so much pain.     They all looked up at Onya when he spoke. He told them to all get some rest, and that they would be heading out together in the morning. As Bhannimann led the two newcomers up the stairs to their rooms, Thyr stood next to Onya and looked out into the storm that was still raging outside.     “What are we going to do,” asked Thyr.     “I don’t know,” Onya replied, “I don’t know.” He paused. “I guess we continue on. I wasn’t expecting to come face to face like that so suddenly.”    “I know,” Thyr said.     Onya spoke with a grim look in his eyes, “All I can say, right now, is that we are in so much more danger than any of us can fathom. I don’t know which way to turn.”     A silence hung between them for a long time. Thyr turned and trudged up the stairs. This was going to get a whole lot worse before it got any better.</blockquote>

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