Battles, Both of the Body and Heart. The Lord of December, Redmane, Sir Bravil, and Thomas battle a great beast.

The shadowy mass of claws and squirming flesh comes oozing through the hole above with Thomas riding its back like some demented rodeo clown in a werewolf costume. It hits the floor with a sickening crunch of bones. Shaking its head and growling an unnatural, guttural, growl, it draws upright, it's maw spreading far wider than it should be able to. It spreads its talons and lurches forward! Its first target, the elders; unarmed and unarmored. Its slobbering tongue wags in anticipation for canine flesh!

And unfortunately, it finds some. Its maw starts to close around the white wolf; the leader of the pack. The white-wolf's growl quickly becomes a howling shriek. "Dammit, I don't think so," Thomas growls and quickly loops the remainder of his rope over the top of the creatures head and yanks backward, trying to keep the jaws from clamping down completely.

Redmane hurries forward, and tries to jam her shield into the monster's mouth to jam it open.

The heavy bronze-plated shield's lower half slips in between the beast's teeth and digs into the gums to keep it from closing its mouth completely, and Redmane puts her shoulder into it to try and pry the jaws further apart.

As Thomas and Redmane try to keep the creature's jaws open, Sir Bravil takes a bit of initiative himself and attempts to pull the elder free and take her out of harm's way.

Lord December now moves towards the creature with near animalistic speed, sword drawn and cocked backwards. "Release her," he snarls as his own fangs start to extend from his jaws as he tries to attract its attention. "Your fight is with me!"

The stink from this creature's breath up this close is almost overpowering to both Redmane and Bravil. Both should be thankful that neither have the senses of a wolf or they might be retching.  Thankfully, they both manage to keep their somewhat recent meals down. As Redmane forces its jaw wider, Bravil is able to lift the white wolf to safety.

Bravil hefts the white wolf in his arms effortlessly and carry her to the sidelines of the fight, where a male wolf waits rather anxiously. This, presumably, is the elder's mate. Bravil lowers her onto the male's back and he hurries away, taking her to safety.

"Strike through the upper palate My Lord, while Thomas has the head drawn back!" Redmane advises, trying to keep the head from pulling away as well.
Lord December's yellow eyes narrow as his ears lengthen, thicken, and get a fine coating of gray fur on then. With a feral growl his sword comes up. With the creature's head held still by Redmane, the Lord's sword easily hits the mark and sinks into the softer flesh of its mouth.

Its red eyes flare brightly and there's a vomiting cough of black blood from it, spraying over the Lord's hands as well as over the side of Redmane's face. The creature is far from dead, though ... and it drops low, then suddenly surges up and backward, tearing Lord December's sword from his hand and taking Redmane high into the air as the creature topples backwards, attempting to crush its rider as well as slam Redmane into the floor.

"Pony ride is over!" Thomas declares as he finally lets go of the rope in his hand and pushes off with his legs. He hits the ground and rolls to absorb some of the impact. He comes up in a spread-leg, four-limb stance, wolven lips drawn back as he growls at the creature.

And up Redmane flies, limbs flailing in the air as she is thrown almost completely across the inner chamber of the cathedral....until she is stopped short by a large man in armor, who appears to catch her just as effortlessly as he carried the white wolf from the fray. "Are you unharmed, Knight Redmane?" Bravil asks, peering down into her face.

"My left arm is a bit sore," Redmane admits, still a bit daze. "I can still fight though."

Bravil coughs a short laugh, then sets Redmane on her feet again. He draws his own sword and makes a quick gesture to the creature, as if to ask:  Shall we?

Redmane nods to the larger knight, and charges back in with both swords once more.

The creature thrashes and rolls back upright. Violently, it shakes its head back and forth, sending Lord December's sword one way, and Redmane's bronze shield the other. And there ... it spots Lord December where he dropped when the creature jerked away. It clambers towards him, jaws spread wide; black blood dripping from its mouth and splattering on the ground.

Hoping to use the creature's fixation on the Lord to her advantage, Redmane slices with her blades at the monster's throat.

Bravil comes forward again with Redmane, hoping to intercept the creature's attack on his Lord. He glances at the other knight as he charges, to see in which direction she will go, so he can attack from the opposite direction. Since she is going for its throat, he attempts to slice somewhere near its belly.

Both knights aim is true. Redmane's blades, though, find a great deal of resistance when they hit the creatures throat. Both of the blades even through a few sparks out of the shadowy mass. Bravil's blade, thankfully, seems to have found a soft spot. The large blade sinks deep into something. An ear-splitting shriek echoes from the creature as he falls sideways and thrashes ... trying to yank or dislodge the weapons of its attackers.

While Bravil manages to hang onto his weapon as it slides out of the creature with a sucking sound ... Redmane has a moment of sheer luck. She feels the blades slide, then catch on some sort of section between possible armor plating ... so as she draws her swords away, she saws them both deep into that joint. She can feel flesh give way ... followed by a disgusting jet of its black blood.

Thomas now charges in and leaps high into the air, landing square upon its back again! He rears back and his jaws spread wide ... right before he dips down and bites into the back of its neck!

"Blast!" Redmane curses as she draws her weapons free. "It feels like it has a gorget protecting its throat under the flesh!" She changes targets to something more obviously vulnerable (and less likely to spew ichor on her): she goes next for the monster's closest eye.

It appears the ichor has it in for Redmane ... because her foot lands square into a thick puddle and she goes sliding past her target!

And right into its tail as it whips around and catches Redmane right in the gut! thud! She can feel her armor and her bones vibrate from the impact.

"Guuuff!" the woman grunts, and staggers back. With the possibility of hidden plates of bony armor under the skin, she thinks of other likely vulnerable spots. With Thomas on the monster's back again, she looks to see if its thrashing is exposing the armpits.

The larger knight blinks for a moment as he watches Redmane attempt to stab the creature's eye, slip, and then go sliding away on black blood! However, he manages to recover and take up position where Redmane had been, and stab for one of the monster's eyes as best he can.

Meanwhile, Lord December has finally recovered his sword and is heading back towards the fight. He's moving cautiously, lest he get in the way of the knights' attacks.

Thomas' head is thrashing back and forth as he tries to dig his teeth into it. There's a sickening sound of something tearing and he whips his head to the side. A boney chuck of flesh goes splattering across the floor. Thomas' expression is one of someone who looks like they've been visited by the God of Hangovers and desperately wants to vomit.

The creature's head whips to the side and Bravil's blade bounces off the creatures apparently armored hide that exists beneath its shadowy exterior. Meanwhile, Redmane isn't having any luck at getting a clear thrust into its armpits.

"Hamstrings it is then," Redmane mutters, and aims instead for the monster's nearest hand with her blades held across one another for a scissor-stroke in hopes of severing a tendon if not clipping the forepaw off completely.

Cursed armored flesh! Both of Redmane's swords bounce off harmlessly. And ... she also just got its attention. Its head whips around and it tries to take a bite out of Redmane!  It's a good thing Redmane is also armored or she would have some sizable teeth buried in her torso. Still, she can feel her armor slowly caving in as it bites down harder and harder.

Redmane cries out in anger, and starts stabbing at the creature's face with her swords.

Thomas' head shakes as his attention comes back (and he feels a little less sick). "Murieinn!" he calls out in a panic, then dips his head down to tear at it again!

Bravil recovers his grip on his sword and curses his rotten luck. Taking a different tack now, he feints to the left and goes for the creature's leg, hoping to cripple it somewhat and keep it from moving around quite so swiftly. Plus, it may distract the thing and prevent it from biting Remane in half!

"Let her go," Lord December orders as his blade sweeps in now to strike at the creature's neck.

As Lord December's blade hits, a small chunk of its flesh is shorn away and thrown across the room where it splatters on the wall. Redmane's chaotic stabs seem to have some effect as she can feel her blades fine the seams between some of the armor and begin to sink into its head!

Meanwhile, Bravil's discovering that the creature must have thick armor on its arms and legs, just as Redmane did. His sword bounces away in a shower of sparks. This unfortunately earns Bravil a bit of the creature's attention ... as that leg lashes out! Sparks fly as its claws shear through Bravil's breastplate. Pain quickly follows the line across his chest and the knight smells blood; his own.

"Hah!" Redmane crows as she finds a seem in the armor, and tries to drive the blade in as deep as possible. "You've bit off more than you can chew, Afagdu!"

Bravil cries out hoarsely as the creature's claws had found their way through his breastplate and rake flesh. He falls heavily to the stone floor, barely managing to hold onto his sword...but now he has been pushed clear of the fight. He struggles to rise, trying to shake off the pain.

Redmane can feel her armor on the verge of collapse and beginning to dig into her flesh .. right as her iron blade sinks to the hilt into the flesh of its head, near the eyeball. She can feel the iron in her hand vibrate violently and get hot. An ear-splitting scream comes from the creature ... causing both Lord December and Thomas to clasp their heads. Thomas falls off the creature's back into a pile ... and December just staggers backwards. There's a sickening smell of burning flesh as the creature thrashes and twists, its jaws finally loosening from Redmane's torso. And then ... the creature shudders and collapses on the floor. It lays there, unmoving and its tongue laying on top of Redmane's left foot.

"This is worse than a corset," Redmane gasps, and tries to get free of her crushed breastplate. "It was fey under all of that armor after all."

Lord December moves towards the fallen creature and prods it with the tip of its sword. It sputters and rolls its head, eyes leveling on the fey lord. "You ... you think you have won? Your family may have killed me again ... but no matter. You will never kill my lord," it wheezes. "He has more power than you could ever dream. He brought me back from the edge of oblivion where your ancestor left me. He promised me new life if I undid the House of December." It coughs, black blood splattering on the floor as the shadows fade from its body twisted and scaly body. "I failed him and deserve the embrace of nothingness. My only regret is that I will not see the day when you family lives eviscerated at his feet." A small cackling laugh from the creature is then cut short when the Lord drives his blade into its eye and growls, "Just die already you abomination of nature."

"Geh, what a horrible stink," Thomas complains with both of his hands clasp over his muzzle. "I feel sick."

"That bodes ill," Redmane comments on the monster's dying words. She finally gets out of the bronze breastplate, and asks, "Was anyone struck by the claws?"

"Not I, but I wish it would have cut my nose off," Thomas complains as he goes to check on Redmane, one paw still clasp over his nose tip. Lightly, he touches the woman's back as he checks her for injuries.

Bravil, meanwhile, has planted the end of his sword into the floor and is now trying to pull himself up into a standing position by it. "Only I, I believe," he grunts out. "The prize goes again to the Knight of May, it would seem" he jests, smiling briefly.

"Thomas," Redmane whispers, "Did you find the lair?" Out loud, she reminds Bravil, "The claws are poisoned, Sir Bravil. Try not to exert yourself until we can carry you to Valeska."

"I found where it was staying, yes," Thomas notes in a whisper when he finishes checking Redmane for injury. Louder, he says, "I think your old armor is ruined."

"Have no fear of that," the other knight returns, swaying a little on his feet, although he is trying hard to hide it. "It will be a while before I can exert myself in such a way as this again."

"I'm having new armor made anyway," Redmane notes. "Did you see anything else in the lair? Supplies, paper.. remains?"

"Knight Bravil, Knight Redmane," Lord December says as he crouches before the misshapen beast. "Thank you. You have earned December's favor this day."

"I didn't exactly have time to look around," Thomas notes. "I was busy trying not to get eaten."

"I am ever at your service, my Lord," Bravil replies, almost automatically.

"We've done our duty, My Lord," Redmane replies automatically. "But I fear we've felled a single dark weed, while the root may still remain."

"No, you are not," Lord December notes with a kindly smile to the battle-worn knight. "Until those wounds heal, you are not in my service. I believe it is called ... a vacation."

"And I'm fine, Thomas," Redmane tells the wolf-man, even as she rubs her left arm. "But you need to wash your mouth out with something as soon as possible, or I may faint."

To Redmane, Lord December nods grimly. "Nothing is ever simple. One evil falls and another rises to take its place. Such is the way of things. All we can do is remain vigilant," he says.

Thomas grins a wide and bloody-black grin. "Don't fancy a kiss, then?" he offers and waggles those wolven brows.

Bravil bows slightly to Lord December, but looks somewhat bemused by the concept. Apparently, the larger man hasn't really experienced a 'vacation' before.

The heads of wolves peer out from around columns and doorways now that the creature is dead. Slowly, they slink over and sniff it.

Redmane turns a bit green at Thomas' offer. She stands up, and pats Thomas on the shoulder. "Maybe after you've cleaned up a bit," she tells him, then goes over to Lord December to whisper to him, "I do not think this monster wrote and passed that message you received. There are still threats within your house to see to, My Lord. You might want to bring some wolves back with you that you can trust."

"Well, I'll go clean up, then. And see about losing the fur coat, of course. Now, where are my old clothes...?" Thomas muses.

"I will show you where they are kept," comes a feminine voice. Around the door walks the woman Redmane met on her first night here; the one who was caring for Thomas after he was beaten. Thomas blinks a few times when she takes his hand, then follows her out of the room.

Lord December draws a breath, then says, "Thank you, all of you. Please, take some time to rest and recover. I will be speaking with the wolves and start the mending of our alliance for the remainder of my time here. Come morning, we will return to Lunafell." And with that, the wolfish Lord leaves the chamber.

Forgotten Baths
The old town once held a marvelous bath made of carved and polished stone. But, the years have not been too kind to it; the stones are all cracked and pitted and the central bath is only half full of water with steps leading down into it. The place is currently warmed by a couple fireplaces that burn dimly. Some heated stones have been set in the water to help warm it as well.

Redmane doesn't have to do much to find out where the baths are, she can just find the drippings of black goo from Thomas. As she approaches the outside of the old stone chamber, she can hear talking inside...

The woman pauses to listen, not wanting to interrupt anything too private.

"You would be welcome to stay," Redmane can hear the woman say. "I've heard a few ... rumors, that you were being considered for pairing..."

There's the sound of water splashing, then Thomas' voice. "Ah, pairing is it? Impressed a few wolves, did I?" he says, sounding amused. "Well, I did make for one handsome wolf..."

Oh dear, Redmane thinks. Thomas probably needs rescue. She heads on into the bath, saying, "Ah, there you are."

The woman that lead Thomas off earlier growls a bit at Redmane, as if to say mine. Thomas' back is to the both of them; he's down down in the backwater, rinsing off the black goo. From this angle he looks more or less back to normal, pale skin and all.

"I couldn't help but overhear a little," Redmane notes. "You know, he doesn't have to become a wolf in order for.. that. The line will breed true between wolf and fey. Although I don't know how you'd hope to keep the puppies out of trouble." She sits down and starts unlacing her boots.

The woman just crosses her arms and glares at Redmane, still growling. Thomas glances over his shoulder, noting, "If you want to wait, I'll be done soon and you can have the bath to yourself."

"Are you kidding? I still have ichor crusted on me from the first fight," Redmane says, and keeps disrobing. "Besides, the water will be warmer with more bodies."

"Your reputation," Thomas notes, sounding amused. The woman sniffs loudly, then storms out of the room and slams the door behind herself.

"And I think you made her mad," Thomas adds, then dips under the water briefly to rinse.

"So, were you going to take her up on her offer?" Redmane asks, and gets into the bath next to Thomas. "If they don't require you to stay, I don't see why you'd turn it down."

"Why do you ask?" Thomas inquires by way of answering the question. "And you do realize that wolves mate for life, yes? So, it likely would require staying."

"Ah, then I've rescued you!" Redmane says, and drapes her arms over Thomas' shoulders from behind. "Let's see.. you rescued me twice at least during the fights with the monster, so I think you're still one up on me."

Thomas actually twitches when he's touched and looks down at the arms draping over his shoulders for a minute. "Who said I needed to be rescued?" he asks, not exactly trying to extract himself from Redmane's arms.

"I saw her look," Redmane notes. "She missed catching you the first time, so she's looking for a second chance. But I imagine you and your Hawks are going to be pretty busy following up on the monster's claim of serving a greater master, yeah?"

"Oh, I have theories on that, but yes. I'll be dealing with that issue personally," Thomas notes. The fey then turns until he's now facing Redmane and looking up a bit. Grinning, he drapes his arms around her waist and he counters, "What about you? What will you do next? I suspect you've earned a lot of good will with the fey from this when they hear about it."

Redmane shrugs, and then leans into sniff Thomas. "That's thinking too far ahead, for me," she says. "I don't have a wolf's nose, but you still smell like you've been in a fight. I know I do," she claims, and then kisses Thomas on the mouth without any warning at all.

"Bnorf!" goes Thomas, eyes wide as his feet scrabble a bit on the floor beneath them. Down the pair go into the water! Thomas comes up sputtering and grabs onto the side of the bath.

"What, I didn't bite you?" Redmane notes, as she wipes water from her eyes.

"No. You kissed me," Thomas points out as he wipes his hair from his eyes. "It was ... unexpected."

"I've ran I don't know how many miles through the snow today, nearly been bitten in half, and smell like a wet monkey," Redmane says. "I'm bruised, nearly exhausted, and still feel full of blood-fire. So why not celebrate a little?" she reasons. "It could be ages before we see one another again - unless you'd like to ride back to Court with me?"

"And after this warm up quest, we won't take it easy on you," Thomas quips with a grin, then squirts some water at Redmane with his hands. "So, that's how people celebrate back home where you're from?" he asks next.

"No, but that sort of celebration is more like another battle," Redmane notes, and starts advancing on Tom again. "And you don't have to worry about puppies with me, either. I know I'm not compatible with the fey."

"And just how do you know that?" Thomas inquires as he slides back a bit in the water.

"Oh, I was captured once by the sidhe," Redmane explains, showing her teeth. "Took me a long time to escape. You can probably imagine what they did to me in the meantime."

Tom actually cringes. "I'm sorry for that," he says, slicking back is tangled mop of black hair.

Redmane makes a lunge for Tom, saying, "I'm sure they thought they were being very rough!"

When Redmane is right up to Thomas ... he suddenly disintegrates into so much steam. Some sort of Glamour? "You may not see it the same as I ... but what they did, rough or not, was wrong," Thomas voice comes from behind Redmane now.

The woman growls like a wolf now herself. "Always teasing, aren't you?" she says, and then just sits down until the water is up to her shoulders. "Or are you only interested when I'm smaller and weaker?"

"No! No," Thomas says as he wades over to Redmane, setting down right before her. "Look at me. What do you see?" Thomas asks.

"A pale and somewhat frustrating man," Redmane answers bluntly. "Although I'm never certain if what I'm seeing is real with you."

Up close, it's hard to see, but there are numerous faint (nearly invisible) scars that cross over his body. "You barely know me," he says with a small shrug, "But you know I'm older than I look and been through much. I've loved and lost many times in my life; more than I want to remember now. There came a time I just couldn't tell someone else that they could live their entire life with me, but I couldn't promise to live mine with them. I'm no knight Redmane, I never will be. Most of the time I don't even know where I'll be tomorrow or what I may face. I don't want to put anyone else through that. You deserve better than someone like me. Truly."

"Better?" Redmane growls, and waves her arm around the baths. "Oh, I'll just pick one out of my throng of admirers, shall I?"

"Redmane. Murienn," Thomas says, "I'm sorry that not everyone sees you the way I do. Sees the beautiful woman; regardless if you're fey or not. I just ... I'm not even sure what to say here." He actually manages a grin, adding, "Part of me feels that I'm taking advantage of you because you have no family and few friends in these lands. That I'm only interested in you because of the ... physical possibilities."

"When I was a wolf, you wanted me to revel in what it could feel like," Redmane notes. "Now that I'm back to normal, you'd rather I didn't? I just wanted to feel alive and loved for a little while, Thomas, nothing more. You said I smelled lonely, remember? Well the closest thing I've gotten to love has been from the sidhe who captured me in battle. Among my own kind, I was untouchable; the freak who was a failure from birth because my father wanted a monster. A real monster."

"Remind me that if I ever meet your father, to tell him where he can shove those opinions about you," Thomas says as he now drapes his arms over Redmane's shoulders. "And I will keep saying this until you believe it; you are not a failure, a freak, or a monster. You are a beautiful woman with a good heart. I believe you will shine in these lands and I hope to see it." And this time ... it is Thomas who kisses her without warning.

Redmane's response is not so heated as before - her mood seems to have cooled down a bit. "Will you come to Mirari with me?" she asks afterwards. "It's a long journey, and a cold one."

"Yes," Thomas answers, "I won't vanish this time. And if you still want tonight, or those nights, I'll make it a warm journey. You aren't untouchable here."

The knight smiles then and holds Thomas in an embrace. "Well. I suppose we could at least scrub each other's back then, while we're here..."

"Maybe in a little bit. I'm rather comfortable where I am right now," Thomas notes with a lopsided grin. He reaches up and brushes some of that fire-red hair to the side, adding, "If it hasn't been said yet; thank you for coming to our lands. Welcome home."

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.