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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 271361" data-attributes="member: 227">Grr, it's been really difficult for me to post on the boards in the evenings recently, the entire thing seems to be slowing right down... oh well. Without further ado, the latest update of Wolf's Company:Wolf's eyes had narrowed at Kale's announcement. Finishing off a bite of breakfast, he asked, "Any idea what happened to them?" The warrior seemed suddenly tense. The others could feel it too; a sense in the air that something was very, very wrong. The innkeeper stumbled in from the kitchen entrance, alarm printed over his face as he shouted to get the attention of the patrons in the tavern. "There's a... a body out back," he said, shuddering, as alarmed customers got to their feet. "Shredded... I don't know who it was..." The blood had drained out of his face, leaving him pale and terrified. In the corner, one of the patrons began to laugh loudly, apparently greatly amused at the situation. "Well, looks like time I set to work," he said through a mouthful of food, tearing the last pieces of meat from a cooked chicken leg. Everyone else looked at him in confusion. The man tossed the chewed bird bone aside as the customers turned their attention to Wolf, who had just drawn his blade and was staring suspiciously at the man in the corner. A well-built, stocky man in commoners clothing, he appeared to have decidedly wolf-like features; suddenly Kale, Burl and Wyshira realised that the reason for this was his features were changing... With a sickening sound the man shifted form, the werewolf appearing as a gaunt, lanky canine humanoid, hunched over and covered in scraggly matted fur. Snarling, the leprous beast lashed out with both claws and siezed a terrified nearby man by the shoulders, talons biting into flesh as blood spurted from the injuries. The man screamed as the werewolf leapt onto him, overbearing him to the ground. Others started screaming, yelling and running, a few of them clearly more hardened travellers as more weapons came from sheathes. The innkeeper somehow still clung to his wits, reaching under the bar for a weapon of his own. Wolf made a half gasp, half mutter. "Gods, not werewolves, not here..."Baring teeth of his own, Kale reacted instinctively to the carnage. Sense demanded flight, but there could be no escape even if he could bear to leave the beast to mangle the poor man on the ground. The bystander screamed as more of his blood showered forth, pitched sounds that no man imagined he could produce, until he watches his own body being ripped apart. Growling in defiance, Kale reached for claws of his own. The ropes of his neck stood out as he hurled his missiles with a huge overhand throw, mad energy speeding the darts to their viscious target. He didn't know whether the normal weapons could harm the fabled beast, nor did he care. Encountering the horror, it was critical that he do ANYTHING besides nothing. Manuvering to advantage, he covered a flood of escape while willing all blades in the room to encircle the wolf-monster. The world shrunk to just a pinprick of existance: his companions, his beating heart, and a bloody monster that simply MUST be destroyed. * * *Confusion. Wyshira was still trying to wrap her mind around the idea that the steadfast, chestnut mount that she had ridden for untold miles, and nicknamed Otter, was dead - no, not just dead, mauled! - when the innkeeper stumbled into the common room from the kitchen yelling something about a body out back. What in the name of the Goddess is going on around here? She was just beginning to step toward the pale and shaking taverner to see if there was anything she could do to help, when raucous laughter from the corner stopped her cold. "Well, looks like time I set to work," came the voice, and the evident amusement with which the owner seemed to view the situation made her shiver with revulsion. She heard Wolf draw his blade, and in that instant, everything began to sink in. It was real; the horses were dead; there was a shredded body outside; and the horror was here with them, closing in. She followed Wolf's gaze toward the corner table, feeling as though she was turning in slow motion. What she saw there was almost too incredible and hideous for her to believe: a man becoming a wolf-beast, changing right in front of her eyes. Before she could even take a breath, it leapt upon one of the inn's patrons, rending with its terrible claws, and knocking the man to the floor. A couple of darts came flying from nowhere toward the beast. Kale, Wyshira thought, and her comapanion's swift response prompted her to take action herself. All of her thought was upon the poor man that lay bleeding on the floor. She had to get to him, and help him. She had recently felt Ishrak grant her a new blessing, a holy, magical weapon that she could call into existence, and that would attack as she directed. She sang out the words to the spell and with graceful motions, grasped at and flung an imaginary javelin toward the wolf creature. A silvery, blue force-javelin sprang into being in a flash of lightning, and sped toward its target. Hoping that the weapon would distract the monster, Wyshira ran without hesitation toward the downed villager.Although Burl was used to death and dying, the actual rendering of a man or a beast, complete with splattering blood and tissue always turned his stomach. Seeing that a number of the inn’s patrons, including Wolf, readied their arms and moved to try to help the man or to protect themselves, he decided on a course of action. Burl began to speak and move his hands in an intricate pattern. Shortly after Wyshira’s javelin flew at the werewolf Burl finished his incantation, two bolts of energy left his hands flying true into the furry body of the creature.There was a gristly crunch as the wolf/man hybrid bit into the helpless man's throat, gouts of blood spattering over its muzzle and the now-corpse's chest and features. Standing up from its victim, it swung its head round to gaze at the other occupants of the room; fearful innocents cowering in the other corner, a handful of hesitant armed men and the mercenaries facing it in a line. With a zip Kale hurled his darts; the beast moved insanely fast, quicker than the eye could see. It jerked around to face Kale side-on to dodge the first dart, which thunked into the wall uselessly. The other dart struck it, hitting solidly, but the werewolf didn't even flinch and Kale could see no evidence that he had actually hurt it at all. The energy javelin that Wyshira had summoned lanced towards the agile creature, but it dodged the attack with ease as the spiritual weapon drew back for another stab. It couldn't dodge the energy bolts that Burl hurled at it though, however hard it might try, and the magical missiles made it yelp and snarl in pain as they struck true, thudding hard into the werewolf. The ring of men, emboldened, began to approach the creature, but it gave a half-snarl half-sneer, and howled loudly, gaunt muzzle pointing upwards. From outside the inn, other howls answered its call. Snickering, it turned and hurled itself out of a window, glass pane shattering around it as the beast disappeared through and out of sight. Everyone's attention was quickly drawn off in another direction, as the tavern door splintered and another gaunt, leprous form stood silhouetted there, red eyes boring into the crowd of people within. It began to growl, stepping forwards, when it seemed to be illuminated for a moment from behind, as if there was a bright, golden light outside the front of the inn. Then the werewolf erupted into flames, howling pitifully as fire consumed it in seconds to leave only a heap of ash and some badly scorched paws.The glimmer of light on armour showed Evant's entry to the inn, wisps of smoke drifting up from the paladin's gauntlets. The warriors face was spattered with blood, apparently not his own, but he looked exhausted as if he had been fighting hard for a while already. "Everyone, move! These things attacked our camp last night and snuck into the village; they've killed quite a few of the locals already. My men are rounding everyone up and escorting them to the temple of Solanthar; it's defensible, and this way we know where everyone is. If you want to survive this, I'd advise you all come with me now to the temple." The sussuration of worried chatter amidst the tavern patrons as they quickly began to gather their belongings hung in the air as Evant strode over to the mercenaries. "I'm sorry I couldn't warn you earlier about this; they've been making hit and run attacks on our camp since before dawn, and we only just managed to fight our way into the village itself. There must be a whole coven of bloody werewolves; my guess is they're here to reclaim the woman we tracked down. They control several buildings on the western outskirts of the town, we know that for sure, and several have infiltrated further in. It's hell out there, since my men aren't locals and don't know who's a villager and who's a werewolf. We're pulling everyone back to the temple for safety." "I hope you've got silver, Evant," Wolf growled. "I doubt Wyshira and Burl's magic alone would be enough to kill off a dozen werewolves, and we can't fight them with steel. Unless you've got a whole lot more of that sunstrike left up your sleeve, we're screwed." "Most of the men are already armed with silver, since we were tracking a werewolf after all. The Inquisitor ensured we were allocated a crate of firebombs as well, which we've transported to the temple." The Templar pondered for a moment. [color=yellow"I think we've got enough to fend them off." [/color]People began to file out of the building, Evant moving to take up the rearguard of the column and motioning for the mercenaries to follow him. "Since you lot are mercenaries, I'm figuring you can help us out in the defence. Apart from our militia band it's mostly farmers and I don't want to see what happens when you pit several dozen farmers against werewolves. It'll be a massacre unless we protect them. You two," he gestured to Wyshira and Burl, "You can do magic? Is there anything you can do to help us?" he asked in a hopeful tone. Burl answered, “I will do whatever I can to help these people and ourselves. I have a few things that I can try.” Wyshira tried to shake off the shock, and the nausea, and the fear of what she had just seen; she stood straight and tall, remembering that she represented the Church of Ishrak, and with an effort she answered Evant's questions without letting her voice quaver. "I can use magic, yes. I'll do everything I can to help, but I'm afraid that I'm not prepared for something like this."* * *"Kale," Wolf said quietly to the younger mercenary, "here's a little test for you." It seemed something totally out of place to be speaking of in this dire situation - but it was also clear that Wolf was making Kale the sole target for his words, speaking so softly that no-one else could hear. "When you are faced with opponents that are little more than animals, what do you do?" "Exploit their instincts," He replied evenly, unsure how that would help them in their current situation. Wolf grinned unpleasantly. "Exactly.""They're werewolves - part man, part beast. Did you watch it carefully in the fight? If we retreat to the temple, they'll have time to consider our position, to watch, learn and think. Their human side'll come through, to let them take advantage of it best. If we sit around, we're giving them time to plan." "When they're fighting though, when they're hunting, they let the beast side take over, let themselves devolve into killing machines. They don't think straight, can't think straight, since they just let themselves loose without higher thought. That can be taken advantage of by us.""Maybe take out their alpha? Without a leader, what effect would that have?""I don't know what effect killing their alpha would have, if they have an 'alpha'. Probably no more effect than killing the leader would have on any band of troops. I'm pretty sure we could try and lead them into a trap though - but we'd need bait. Someone for the werewolves to chase - I bet if they saw someone running away they wouldn't be able to resist chasing..." "You feel like running?" Kale asked Wolf rhetorically as they neared the Temple. Not yet, whoever ran- the bait would have to run when everyone else was safe. For now, Kale walked slowly, alert, mainatining order on the way to the strong oak doors of the temple. Dusty brown boots made silent steps down the dead street. Sides hard for support, tops oiled for full motion, Kale walked limber steps toward the temple. There was only one suitable choice for the task ahead... "Hmm... hazard pay for the rabbit?" Kale pondered, walking alongside Wolf. You can't be serious... Kale thought to himself. Up ahead the temple of Solanthar was visible, other houses, silent and empty, lining the street in its direction; it seemed they had already been evacuated, their inhabitants moved to the safety of the sanctum. The front of the temple revealed the forwards part of the building to be single-storied though high, with tall and wide stained-glass windows of yellow and orange hues allowing a great deal of light into the interior. Further back, beyond the main chamber, a second storey probably provided chambers for the resident priest. Thick oak double-doors opened into the prayer chamber, a half-dozen militiamen clad in leather armour and clutching light crossbows scanning the deserted street nervously. The T-shaped plan of the building, the doors at the bottom of the T and the cross-piece of building being the area with a second storey, sat in a square of property that was walled off with a low stone perimeter wall, some four feet high. The convoy moved cautiously down the street, the guards at the front of the building seeing Evant and relaxing a little. As they slowly got closer to potential respite, Evant continued to speak with the two spellcasters. "What kinds of things do you think you can do to aid the defence?" Burl answered cautiously. “I am not the great spellcaster that you really need, but only a fledgling in the arts. However, I do have a few minor magics that I could use as well as some alchemist’s fire in my backpack.” Wyshira shook her head slightly as she cast about in her mind for ways to help. "I- I can call for Ishrak's blessing on all those who will fight the creatures. Do the beasts know fear? I could perhaps frighten one of them away... I know, that isn't much. I might be able to tell who is a werewolf and who is not, if they give off a magical aura. I also have a scroll that will grant a priest sanctuary for a very short time." With a sigh she glanced over at Evant. "I'm sorry. If I had known what we were to face this morning, I could have prepared better." Then she turned to Burl. "I don't think these could help in any way, but I suppose it is possible." She reached into her pack and withdrew the pouch holding the crystalline globes. She held a couple of the bluish glass balls in her hand, showing them to the necromancer. "Can you tell me anything about them now?"Inspecting the little crystalline globes that Wyshira had offered him again, Burl once again couldn't dredge up anything about them from his memory. Certainly, they'd never appeared in any arcane text he had ever read about, and once again he found himself unable to offer any useful new information on the odd objects. At Wyshira's question, Evant shook his head. "A lycanthropes shapeshifting isn't magical - it's natural, if a twisted mockery of nature, so they don't give off an aura of magic. Frightening them is hard but I don't see why it'd be impossible..." * * *"Hmm... hazard pay for the rabbit?" "How about you have as much chance of surviving this if you bait them as if we all just sit in the temple anyway, and I'll be impressed if you lead a bunch of werewolves on a wild goose chase," Wolf replied with a grin. "Evant mentioned they had firebombs in the temple - you might well be able to make use of those. Fire hurts werewolves too, as well as silver." * * *They made it to the temple without further mishap, the last few feet being covered with urgent steps as the militiamen ushered them all into the interior of the temple. The long, rectangular prayer chamber led up to the altar and doors into the back rooms at the far end, pews arranged along the room and tall stained glass windows pouring in light. Huddled and fearful villagers clustered in the middle of the room, sitting on pews and talking in low, hushed tones. Some small children and babies cried, women sat cradling them with tears on their own faces. On a couple of pews, injured men were laid out, their pitiful groans echoing around the chamber as blood stained their clothes and the church upholstery. The local priest tended to them, fear and anxiety imprinted on his own face; the aged man was probably a local himself, and hadn't expected anything like this horror to ever happen. In the corner, partially obscured there lay an object rolled in a blanket, Burl guessing one who hadn’t made it. Militiamen prowled around the room, peering out of the stained glass windows or wandering in and out of the doors at both ends of the chamber. Clad in leather armours of various types, most clutched light crossbows and wielded short, silver headed hunting spears. Two of them were aiding a man into armour at the altar end. Stocky and muscular, Inquisitor Latorath must have been in his early forties yet was still energetic and strong; the elaborately decorated and heavily spiked armour he was putting on pointed to his capability as a warrior. Instead of any blade or spear, the man pulled on heavy plate gauntlets from which long blades jutted forwards a foot, covered in silver; once fully armoured he smashed his fists together in readiness and looked up to see Evant and the newcomers. Pulling on a full helm, eyes peering through the slits, he hailed them. "Ah, Evant, you're back. Those are the mercenaries you spoke of, I assume... welcome, gentlemen," he nodded respectfully, "and lady." "Looks like the wolves're holding off just yet." "They've been prowling around, howling occasionally. I believe they are being directed by the most intelligent member of the pack, probably some sort of coven leader, so they'll just prepare to attack us on their own terms. I fear we may well have to wait until tonight before they choose to make their move." Crates were scattered around the entrance to the chamber; mostly military supplies, ammunition, and suchlike, but one full of carefully cushioned vials of viscous liquid. Kale still couldn't resist lightly touching his neck while staring at those foot-long gauntlet spikes. But he's on our side... "Favor, Inquisitor, there may be a way to engage the beasts on more our own terms," he began, seeming slightly out of place that he was offering battle plans to a spiked veteran, flanked by his Solar Templar Champion, of sorts. Yet, the plan wasn't all his, and unlike certain Fuldarian fools, he had a feeling the suggestion would be weighed by its merit, not by the rank of the one proposing... "Wolf supposes that were one to run, the hunters would give chase without heed to more common sense. We could flush the wolves out, into ambush, and before nightfall, if only we can appeal to that animal instinct." Kale continued evenly, though he was unsure how the others would take the plan. It was a plan, open to suggestion, but he made sure to speak with conviction- if any hope or chance was to come out of this scheme, it would have to start with him. "I take off down the road, desperate. The wolves give chase. Within one of the houses, I can slow them and double back, but no matter how animal they may be, even a pack of wolves will trail a rear guard to make sure I don't make it back to the temple." Steeling himself, he continued."Only the temple isn't my goal, for as soon as the wolves have all eyes on me, men can take station here, and here," Kale pointed to houses opposite the road, second story windows with a command of the passage, "Haul me the hell up, and rain silver and fire. When things go awry, a reserve of spears and... spikes can deploy from the temple, flanking the beasts while the archers have the high ground." He didn't end with a flourish like this was some kind of hero finale. It was a plan, a bloody, dangerous, unlikely figment... but it was a figment Kale believed could just work. Burl was standing at the rear of the group when they were introduced and the Inquisitor threw out his ideas. He was totally taken back when Kale stepped forward and presented his plan. He had heard him mention a rabbit before, but he had thought that Kale was merely hungry. Burl couldn’t let his companion do this on his own, “Sir” speaking to Latorath, “If you propose to let this young fool ..." "Every village needs one..." Kale murmured deadpan as Burl continued, "attempt this, then I must ask that I be one of those in the house to help give his some support. I saw a crate of what looked like alchemist’s fire over there." pointing to some crates to the left. “Let me take several of those and combined with a few arcane castings that I might employ, I think I could be of use."A pained expression crossed Wyshira's face when she heard Kale suggest himself as bait for the werewolves. No! Someone else can do it... she wanted to interrupt. But she bit her tongue. Maybe she had the wrong attitude for a mercenary: she couldn't stand to see the other members of the group put themselves at risk. But at least she knew enough to realize that Kale wouldn't thank her for objecting to his idea. Burl volunteered as well, and she quickly stood beside him, indicating that she too would go with the support group in the houses.  Latorath stood in silence for a few moments, pondering the young mercenary's proposal and the indication of the others of their willingness to support such a plan. Then the Inquisitor shook his head. "No, I cannot agree with this plan. Spreading men out amidst the houses puts them in a very vulnerable position; I have little doubt a werewolf will go through a barricaded door with few problems. Once we start splitting up and scattering amidst houses we open up a whole series of opportunities for getting torn to shreds. What of not all the wolves chase you? What then? As my men move across the street they could get caught in the open - the werewolves can make us of crossbows as easily as we can - and with such a weakened guard at the temple," he swept one armoured arm to indicate the sheltered villagers, "one werewolf getting in here could cause carnage amidst these innocents." "That is indeed alchemical fire - firebombs," he replied to Burl's question. "Some two dozen vials of it still remaining; fire hurts werewolves, we know that much at least." "Young man," he spoke again to Kale, "You are right to consider that our werewolves will follow their instincts, but your plan is simply too foolhardy for me to allow my men to follow it. I think they have a clever leader, and it would be able to exert enough command over the coven to make their wholescale duping by your ruse unlikely." "Still, couldn't we try and lead some of them into a trap? If we're going to have to face off with them come sundown, surely we should try and whittle down their numbers a little?" "If you can think of something a little less risky, then yes. After all, with this silver you have brought us," the innkeeper in the huddle of people sighed at the thought of losing all that coin jhe had brought in his strongbox, "we can make a number more weapons to fight the beasts, and to arm you and the others who are capable of combat. Yet we'd need to get to the blacksmiths forge, to get enough heat to melt the silver.""The blacksmith assures me it is a defensible building of stone, so once we get some men entrenched in there they can make the weapons and hold out - but to get them there in the first place we'll need a diversion, and possibly the same to get them back out again. If we could, as you say, try and lead some of them into a trap, it might prove the diversion needed to sneak some men to the forge."Kale listened soberly as Latorath broke it down by the numbers. Taking a deep breath, the mercenary considered, upset that he didn't have the experience yet to come up with good small unit tactics. Too risky, the plan could not be hazarded, but maybe there was something else that could be done. Considering their position, Kale thought for several moments, then spoke. "If the leader is biding his time, then it will be much easier to get a force to the forge than to get them back. Judging from the howls, aside from some p</blockquote>

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