by Kindred Ult
"Strange way to greet honored guests." Janije grumbled as he began to remove his shoes and armor.
"I think that they are just looking for something to obsess over besides the murders. That vampire did do quite a number on this village, after all." Brand removed his heavy trench coat and large hat before sinking on the bed. They sat in silence for a time, but then they started a small conversation, and in minutes they were arguing.
"No, you see, vampires are the more evil of the two races, They know exactly what they are doing, whereas werewolves have had their personalities warped and altered by the bloodlust inside them." Brand stated emphatically.
"Bah, but ye're daft." Janije huffed. "then werewolves're smarter 'an any of you people give them credit for. I even heard two of 'em talkin' once. They know exactly what they're doin', maybe even more than the vamps. That's the problem with you high and mighty races, you always think that the ones under ye' are stupid. Besides, vamps only kill humans 'cuz they need their blood, but them wolves do it fer pleasure."
Brand sat up and faced Janije. "No, you're missing the point. Once a human becomes a werewolf, they lose the ability to think rationally and they cannot control their killing instincts. Vampires can control themselves because they have no such instincts."
Janije suddenly seemed very serious. He was no longer arguing. "Everythin' can control itself lad, those that don't just ain't tryin' hard enough."
"You just do not understand the power of the werewolf infection my friend."
"An' you underestimate the power of a being's will."
The discussion would have continued far longer, and probably would have ended in a duel, but then the doors burst open and the townsfolk rushed into the room. Janije made a lunge for his hammer, but his legs were too short and he hit the ground several feet away from it. Before he could scramble to it a large group of them grabbed him and held him above their heads as they carried him to the Town Hall. Brand eyed the rest of the mob and they parted, wisely choosing to let him walk with his own feet.
The Town Square was covered with banners and bright, magic lights. There was a big building right in the middle of it that had been filled with all of the provisions for the feast and it seemed like all of the town was waiting inside of it when they entered. Once they opened the doors the entire group turned to cheer at them before returning to their drinks. The group walked, with Janije still protesting, up to the front and plopped him down in a highchair. His protests were soon lost as he looked over the small mountain of meat that had been piled in front of him and the oversized jug of beer just within his hand's reach. A large smile spread across his face and he grinned at Brand. "Knew we chose right."
Brand sniffed the air for a bit. "This is very bounteous, and we thank you heartily." He sat down of the other side of the large table that dominated the room and was surprised to smell a wide variety of vegetables and fruits. A cook behind him spoke up.
"Yea, we heard that you elves're vegetarians, so we got you some of our best greens. Our head cook is making you some tomato soup as we speak."
Brand thanked him before settling down to sample the foods in front of him. He could sense the mayor to his right side, and Nasoren past him. Brand thought that this would be a good time to get some information on Nasoren.
"So, what exactly are we celebrating here?" Brand tried to sound enthusiastically curious.
The mayor must have already had his fair share wine. His cheeks were flushed and his large nose was darker than blood. He was very happy to answer any questions Brand had for him.
"You see, Sera over there became a paladin after Mark was killed. None of us thought that she would make it very far, but in only two months she became more skilled than others who had been there for years. We even heard that, if she has two more years there, they'll have nothing more to teach her." The enthusiasm of the mayor was making his throat expand again.
Brand would have liked to continue the conversation, but for some reason the murmur of the crowd around him turned to an uproar. Once his nose caught the bittersweet smell of wine and mead, he knew why. Brand rolled his eyes in annoyance. He could never comprehend why humans, dwarves, and even some elves became so excited at the thought of imbibing such liquids. He was still brooding over this personal annoyance of his when he heard a thump and knew that someone had placed a rather large cup filled with…he sniffed…mead in front of him. He was about to gratefully decline the drink, when the entire crowd became quiet. He did not need his eyes to know that they were all looking at him, and he knew exactly what all of them were thinking.
'Can an elf get drunk?' It must have been written all over their faces. Even Janije noticed the mood and set down a large leg of meat to watch the event. Janije laughed.
"Yea, he sure as hell can mates, but it takes a bit more than's in that cup. Let me tell you that. Unless, or course, his manhood's feeling a little weak tonight." With a self-satisfied smirk, Janije took a swig of beer and settled back down to working on his leg.
"Shunted little diminutive troublemaker." Brand breathed through his teeth. Once that happened he knew that he had no choice but to begin drinking. He took hold of the cup with both of his hands and drained it with one breath. It was larger than he had guessed, and he could feel the fiery liquid course down his throat and settle in his stomach.
Brand hoped that his feat would have satiated them, but immediately after he polished of his first cup, another of the same size was replaced it. Brand cursed under his breath, but he was in a determined mood. He grasped onto that one and drained it as well. The second one was filled with wine, and Brand berated himself for not checking it. Mixing drinks only got him drunk faster. He tried to deny the third one, but eventually he drank it as well, although it took his two breaths. When the fourth one was placed in front of him he looked at the waiter and smiled.
"Exactly how soon do you want to die?"
A small, high-pitched peep of fear came from the waiter, and he quickly found that someone else required his assistance. Brand was proud of his denial, but even with it he knew that he was drunk. He hated getting drunk because it made him feel like cloth was stretched over all of his olfactory senses. His sight, smell, hearing, taste and touch were only at a human's level when he was drunk, and that made him uneasy. For now, though, he would have to just enjoy the party and hope that nothing happened.
About halfway through the party, another waiter stood behind Brand and placed something in front of him. Brand tried to smell it, but he could not pick up anything. He turned to his waiter.
"Wh-what's this?"
The cook probably smiled. "It's your special tomato soup, I made it especially for you, since we heard that you're vegetarians, elves."
Brand thanked the cook and realized that he was famished. He had eaten sparingly of the vegetables before his drinking bout, and had had no more since then. He needed to get something into him to help make him sober, and food had always helped. He sniffed the bowl one more time before he tilted the edge to his lips and let the broth flow down his throat. It was thicker than normal tomato soup, which he equated to his weaker sense of touch, but it was somehow surprisingly delicious. He wanted to stop and think about it, to try to realize something that spoke to him from the back of his mind, but he was in no condition to do so at this point. Once he was finished with the soup, he became lost in the revelries and had no more memories of what transpired after that moment.
When Brand awoke, he was lying face down on the bed that was inside the house that had been given to Janije and him to use during their stay. He would have slept longer, but he had no shirt on, and had apparently just fallen on the bed, without getting inside. A cold breeze had awakened him, and he slowly got up, favoring his throbbing head. Once he collected his thoughts enough to start calculating what was going on, he noticed that a candle was lit, and that Janije was sitting on the bed across from Brand's. Janije had apparently been awake for awhile, as he was just putting on his armor.
"Ah, decided to get your bloody lazy ass awake have ye'? Good thing too, I was about ta' use my age-old cold water attack to wake you up. Pity, I wonder what I'll do with this bucket." Janije seemed perfectly fine, even though it was a given that he had drank at least twice as much as Brand had last night.
Silently cursing Dwarves' extreme resilience to liquor, Brand stood and began to get dressed. Luckily, there was still plenty of vegetables left from the feast, so at least he ate well. Once he was done Janije pounded his fist on the table.
"Alright 'leader,' time to shape up, get yer weapons and whatever else ye' need, we got work to do."
Brand did as he was told and stumbled after Janije into the early morning mist. The guards who were at the gate let them out without question, and they headed towards the still-obvious burn marks in the grass. Brand figured that it was at most six in the morning.
"Remind me again what I'm doing out here?" He absentmindedly sifted through burnt grass, as if what he was doing was important.
"WE'RE looking for clues." Janije wasn't any happier for having to be awake this early than Brand was.
"Seems pretty straightforward," they followed the arrows embedded into the ground and after that the footprints that lead farther into the woods. "Vampire kills bandits, sells bandits' weapons, kills boy, returns to steal back weapons, kills the store owner and two guards, and makes his escape."
Janije harrumphed. "Ye're just sayin' that 'cuz ye had too much ta' drink last night. Bloody elf lightweight. Ye' said yerself that it couldn't be that easy. How could the vampire have returned the next night if we have evidence that he headed straight fer those other humans? An' while we're at it, how did that boy fight after getting' stabbed in the back?" They continued to follow the footprints absently.
"Maybe it was the power of love." Brand's head was still pounding like he had his own personal gong right next to his ear, and he was in no mood to wax philosophical.
"Don't get smart bub, I'm just saying that maybe there were two of 'em. I mean, why would the vampire return to the same shop he sold the bandits' weapons to?"
"Maybe it was to try and see that girl again. Vampires have long been known for their lecherous ways, and she's not exactly the ugliest one in town. Heck, I'd probably fight off a vampire that stabbed me in the back too if I were protecting her. And I've only seen her life-force." Brand could not tell if he was being sarcastic anymore, and he cared even less.
"Kinda' projecting aren't you? That girl ain't even pretty. She needs a proper beard, and don't get me started on her height." Janije spat reflexively.
Brand was about to reply, but then he stopped in his tracks and began to rub his temples. Janije continued on for a few steps before he realized that Brand was no longer walking with him. He turned around with a quizzical look on his face. "What's wrong lad? That wine acting up again?"
Brand screamed in agony as fur began to sprout all over his body and his beautiful elven face was contorted into a ferocious snout. He felt his tailbone break out of his skin and grow into a sweeping tail, and his eyes, which had once been blind, now saw with deadly clarity as the cloth around them burst apart. He screamed again as his muscles burst from his skin and he grew even larger than before as he morphed into the first class form. As his skin formed itself back over his arms, he came back from the pain that had overtaken his thought process with a blank slate for a mind. He wondered where he was, who he was, and what he should do. Even he stared down at the small being in front of him, however, the answer to the two latter questions came to him. He was Deathbreak, and he was going to kill. Janije slowly drew his hammer.
"Aww no lad, I knew there was something strange about that soup." Janije leapt to the side as Deathbreak lunged at him. Deathbreak's large claws raked across Janije's armor, leaving large gashes in them. To his credit, Janije retained his balance even after being struck and spun around to smash his silver hammer into Deathbreak's back. Deathbreak howled in pain, but he used that pain as a catalyst. He turned around and smashed down with one fist. Janije leapt to the side of this, ran close to Deathbreak, and slammed his hammer into his knee. Deathbreak roared in pain and collapsed, but unfortunately for Janije, he fell on top of him. Before Janije could wriggle his way out, Deathbreak rolled himself over and grabbed Janije with both of his hands. He held Janije up in the air, his hands almost enclosing the entirety of Janije's frame. Janije looked into Deathbreak's new, feral eyes.
"Please lad, don't do this." Those were the last words he spoke before his head popped off of his neck and blood spewed from the hole it left. Deathbreak popped his knee back into place and began to eat Janije. It took him a bit to tear his way through Janije's armor, but once he was through the corpse tasted delicious.
When his meal had ended, Deathbreak's first bloodlust, the strongest werewolves ever receive, took full control of him. He turned his bloodshot eyes towards the town of Valestren. He had a feeling, but for a moment he could not articulate it. Then suddenly he remembered how to speak. The word came out grated and slurred, but it conveyed everything he needed it to.
"More."
As he was about to race towards the town, though, a golden figure blocked his path. Nasoren had been following the two of them, and now she was determined to stop this werewolf that had somehow appeared. In one hand she held her standard-issue crossbow and in the other she began to make the sigils for a fire spell. Both of them might have been enough to deal with any normal werewolf, but they were a meager defense against a first class, and she knew it. For a moment, as Deathbreak seemed to hesitate, she wondered what had happened. She had been following them and then they were both dead and a werewolf was attacking the town, but then she realized that only Janije's corpse could be found, and that Brand's ripped shirt and pants were on the ground near them. All of this evidence hit her at once, and she gasped when she finally comprehended the entirety of the situation.
"Brand, is that you?"
Deathbreak paused. There was something inside him that fought against his instinctive desire to just rip through this insignificant child and devour the entire town. He could not place his claw on it, but he felt the unmistakable feeling of control settling over him. Something was screaming at him to stop, screaming at him to control himself. He screamed back his desire to kill and kill until there was nothing left to kill. It was not like he could control his instinct anyway. He was about to win too, but then, from somewhere in his subconscious, he heard a familiar voice. Janije's voice.
"Everythin' can control itself lad, those who don't just ain't tryin' hard enough."
Brand screamed inside his head. 'I don't want to be like this!' Deathbreak fell to his knees, his claws digging into his head. He—It wanted to just kill, but Brand would not let it. Slowly, he pushed Deathbreak back with sheer will, making his ferocity stay in a cage within his mind. Once he was done he looked up and saw Nasoren looking at him with a very strange expression. She was wondering what was going on. He found his voice again.
"It's okay Nasoren, I'm fine." He was surprised at how low and guttural his voice sounded.
She stared at him for a moment longer, before exploding into noise. "Okay? OKAY? Look at you! You just killed your partner, almost killed me, and were about to murder the entire town. And besides all of that you're a werewolf…How is that okay?!"
Brand looked back to see Janije's armor and weapons lying in a puddle of blood and chunks of meat. He desperately wanted to deny that he had done it. He wanted to blame it on Deathbreak. Deathbreak had done it, not him. Slowly, however, he realized that it had not been Deathbreak, it had been him. He had killed and devoured his partner and best friend. He knew that this was not something he could allow himself to blame someone else for. He had to accept the horrible crime he had just committed, and he did. With acceptance came determination; if living for centuries had taught him anything at all, it was that the past could never be changed. There was, however, one thing that could be changed. There was one thing that he could fix
in honor of his friend. Brand forced himself to focus on that instead of his sorrow for his friend, maybe if he tried hard enough he could take his mind off of his agony.
"That cook, and his waiters?" He began.
"That's actually what I came here to tell you two. They all left earlier in the night. They were headed into Darkoven forest. If we move fast enough we might be able to catch them."
Brand was already searching for the cook's scent. He found it surprisingly easily, and once he did he growled. "Fast huh? Jump on my back."
The First Aftermath
7
The First AftermathDamian stopped right before the last bend in the hidden path to check his appearance. His wounds had healed long ago, and he had stitched the tears in his clothing, so he figured that he should be at least passable in the vampire court. He was not very anxious, though, because he figured that the seven werewolf hearts he was bringing with him would offset any offence that he might cause to the honorable council members or to the rulers. Six of the hearts, the ones he had taken from the werewolves that were with Wulf, were for the Patriarch and Matriarch, while one, a class two werewolf that had tried to track him down on his way back to vampire territory, was for a special friend.
