A Wolf in Drow clothing (Closed)

[Leoric]

(Closed thread)

Leoric stepped outside the tavern and stumbled onto the street. He turned around to take a look at the name of the Tavern he had just left. Moose Piss Tavern "Great name for a Tavern" He scoffed as he drunkenly stumbled down the street trying to find a tree to piss on.

"Man, why can't we just have a place to piss inside. Would save me the hassle of walking." He murmured as he dropped his trousers to piss on the trunk of a nearby tree.

Warm wind wrapped around him as it blew through the mostly deserted streets. The breeze carried a familiar scent along with it, but Leoric was too inebriated to realize. The Drunken Brawler turned to head back to the tavern when something called out to him caused him to pause. The rowdy tavern barely audible over the voice in his head. The dirt road kicked up a breathe of dust that circled around him before pushing past him. He shielded his eyes from the dust and stumbled as he quickly spun around. When he opened his eyes there was a sickly white glow coming from a white wolf. The wolf was just standing in the forest staring at him. He blinked and rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. The wolf's gaze pierced through him and wrenched on his soul.

A feeling of guilt flooded through Leoric as the 'Moose Piss' came back up. He quickly fell to his knee's sputtering and coughing as his Heart felt heavy. He glanced at the wolf as a memory forced itself back into his consciousness.

~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~

It had been a few months after the forest hermit had agreed to train him in the ways of the Quaking palm.

"Leoric! focus on the magic within and around you. Just like the meditation exercises we have done up to this point. Once you have the magic welled up inside you. Imagine the force making a fist. Then push it forward as if you were about to strike an opponent." His Master bellowed out from behind him.

"If it was that easy I would of already done it you daft old man" Leoric mumbled as he closed his eyes and began to focus.

"I heard that, Jackass. Now you continue your training. I will be back momentarily. no slacking!"

Leoric had begun his inner search for the magic he had found earlier. within a few minutes of calm meditation and self reflection the tiniest of flames lashed up inside of him creating a sick grey glow, Within seconds he had managed to form it into a ball and send it to his fist. Now came the tricky part, forming it into the shape of his fist, He tried to pull up an image of what he remembered his hand to look like. He created almost an exact duplicate with the magic and opened his eyes. His hand felt powerful, coursing with magic and ready to strike. He deftly executed a palm strike out against a nearby rock that had some rotten, mushy, vegetables resting against it. His palm stopped mere inches from the vegetables and almost instantly he let the magic surge forward past his hand. The rotten vegetables splattered all over the stone and showered him in a rather unceremonious fashion. He immediately jumped for joy and took off running in the direction his master always went. Looking forward to telling him the good news. He had managed to execute the quaking palm strike.

"Master I did it! I really did it!" Leoric exclaimed as he turned the corner and saw something he never thought he would see, Visible 'Chakra'. His master was sitting on a rock clearly struggling in meditation. The little flame of magic that he saw flame up inside of him was clearly visible around his master and mentor... pushing out such a sensation that Leoric thought that he was about to be blown backwards from the force. A few moments later Ghostly Luminescent creatures began to form in the flame and dart out and around his master. They stopped once they got to a nearby tree turning around to look at the now glowing man. as the time passed and the young brawler grew more fearful, more creatures were created and joined Leoric, and other creatures, around the tree edge. A wolf formed and after a few seconds of dancing around his birth place charged directly at Leoric startling him and causing him to fall backwards over his own two feet.

~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~*~~~~

Leoric gasped for breathe as he was shot out of his flashback. This Wolf was identical to his masters, Ghostly, Luminescent, and definitely terrifying. Leoric knew his master to be dead, he buried him himself. So why was this Wolf just standing there staring at him?

"You're dead! how can you be here? it isn't possible!" Leoric cried out in frustration. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he remembered his lost master. "What are you doing here!"

The wolf slowly blinked as if it was saying it was alright. Leoric went to say something else as the wolf turned and ran a few steps before looking back at the now sober man.

"What? Do you want me to follow you? What will this accomplish! You are dead!" The wolf hung it's head for a second before taking off at a sprint through the forest. Leoric, now feeling sober, pulled up his trousers and took off as fast as he could manage to follow the wolf.

[Sinovera Of Bloodmoon]

The night was alive with the sounds of wild-life underneath the half-moon. The cicadas sang, the predators of the night made the leaves crunch and rustle 'neath their strong limbs; even a distant wolf could be heard howling to its night mother. Near the edge of a lone village that lay at the edge of a forest was a cloaked woman. Her gaze was set upon the tavern that was eloquently named “Moose Piss Tavern”. Her eyes nearly seemed to glow like a cats as she looked about. The area was relatively quiet except for the rambunctious noise that was filtering out from the tavern.

The woman was sat upon a high, strong tree branch. The cold night air tumbled through the trees and played with the woman's silvery white hair. Her callus-hardened hand went to a black ribbon that was tied to her wrist. She deftly untied it and wrapped it around her silver locks to get them out of her face. A few strands fell from the tie, however, and fell around her delicate face. She let out an irritated sigh; but before long her irritation was long forgotten as a cloaked figure stepped out of a shop and went to the tavern. She felt her ebony lips curl into a vicious little smile.

“There he is,” she hissed to herself before climbing her way down her perch. Once she reached the mossy forest floor she roughly dusted off her black, studded leather armour before making her way into town. Her footsteps nary made a sound as she lightly stepped on the cobbled road that spanned the length of the village. When she looked behind her to check if anyone was following her she saw what seemed to be a white wolf of glowing white fur. It almost seemed like it was waiting for someone there. She paid little attention to it however; for she knew that it would never raise a paw to her.

As she neared closer to the tavern the music began to reach a crescendo before completely cutting off. The roar of drunken applause was quickly replaced by the screeching wail of the first stroke of a string instrument. The woman lifted her hood to hide her features before she entered. When she entered she was happy to find that there were other men in the tavern with hoods masking their faces as well. She wouldn't stick out quite at sorely in the candlelit tavern.

She swiftly made her way to the most tactical place in the tavern and found that there was a young couple sitting at it. Their lips were locked together and they were making disgusting noises that nearly made the woman sick. She came to a stop mere inches from their table and just stared at them. After a few moments they came up for air and noticed her.

“What do you want, bitch?” the greasy faced male said in a snobbish manner. If it hadn't been for his peasant attire the woman would have believed he was a noble. As it was however, she didn't buy it.

“I would kindly ask you to leave this booth and to desist in calling me a bitch,” her voice was in a monotone as she stared at him. She could clearly see that the both of them were getting nervous, but they didn't want to give up their seats.

“We were here first,” the girl said, not making eye contact.

“Yeah, bitch, now get out of here before I start smacking your around,” he growled, trying to seem tougher than his appearance ever could allow.

The woman simply chuckled at this as she noticed the bruising marks on his little girlfriend. “From the look of it, you have already beat up on one woman. I assure you, if I catch you beating her again, or even attempting to touch me, you won't live to see tomorrow.” She pulled her hood back just enough so that the candlelight caught her eyes. One was a deep sea blue, and the other was brown with many golden flecks scattered in it. She grinned at them, showing rather sharp canines. That was enough to scare them off. Soon the table was vacated and she took her seat. She settled in, quite happy that it was less lightly lit here, and that her back was to a wall.

Before long a servant girl made her way over to the table. She had an ample bosom and a pleasantly plumb face. Her hair was done up in a bun with a single jade clip holding back her shorter hair. “Greetings milady; could I interest you in a drink or a meal?” she had made her best attempt to sound polite, but it was obvious that the young wench had already grown tired of the night. The woman had felt keenly sorry for her.

“I do apologize; I already had my supper and drink at home. I am here meeting a friend,” she would have offered the woman a smile if it hadn't required her to look up and reveal her face. “Thank you very much for asking, however,” she tried to sound sincere, but she knew that her cold exterior was seeping into her voice. The only thing she saw next was the woman walking away from the table. A heavy sigh escaped her dark lips before her mismatched eyes searched over the cloaked figures across the tavern. It wasn't long before her keen eye fell on the man that she had been looking for.

The only thing that distinguished him from the others was the little gold stitches that edged the entire cloak. Most wouldn't have been able to see it, but those trained to see the tiniest details could see it as a bright as day. She settled into her seat and proceeded to pretend to have fallen asleep. Her gaze was down just enough that her eyes were hidden from sight, but she could see the feet of her target. If he rose from his seat, she was sure to know.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

About an hour had passed and no movement from her target, but a commotion was beginning to stir in the middle of the tavern.

“You bloody codger, I am going to fucking kill you!” The woman looked up to see a brutish man with a beer gut, and arms the size of tree trunks. He was at least twice the size of the man that he was threatening to kill. This other man was smaller, but far more attractive. Blue eyes stared up fearfully at the beefy man, and rich brown hair was plastered to his forehead as he sweat.

“It isn't my fault that your woman is a whore!” he cried out. He very narrowly dodged a meaty fist that was aimed at his face.

“Dun you dare call 'er tha' you 'itlle midget!” Another swing found its target. A loud snap was heard and the smaller went down like a lump. The woman then simply watched with a smirk as the larger man was surrounded by nearly every woman in the tavern. They all had been a beauty in their own right, and every one had the same murderous intent in their eyes. A bark of laughter escaped from ebony lips as the women jumped atop the brute and brought him down with nails, teeth, and hard leather shoes to tender places. Her barks calmed to chuckles as she thought about the damaged pride that he was bound to suffer from later that night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few hours later the tavern was the loudest it had been that night. The bards playing had been drinking their fill of the “moose piss” that the bar wench had been serving them. Their inhibitions were out the window and they were just playing like crazy men. The “crazy men” part was emphasized when the words of the song sounded as if they were describing a dwarf fucking a goat. The entire tavern was joining in as well.

The sensitive hearing of the woman was beginning to give her a headache and she had been contemplating leaving when the man finally rose from his seat and moved towards the door with a few other men. She waited for twenty beats of the heart before doing the same. She tightened the cloak around her body so that it hid her gender with the loose fabric. Her slender fingers then went to the iron daggers that were strapped to her wide hips.

When the tavern door shut behind her she was thrown into darkness. It took her mere moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The natural light that her eyes picked up flickered like a candle; almost acting as if a stiff breeze would plunge her into darkness. She focused her eyes on the large boot prints that were angled towards the forest and immediately began to follow.

She looked behind herself once more to see if she was being followed, but was only greeted with a drunken man stumbling out of the tavern and towards a tree, already undoing his trousers. She proceeded further into the woods so that she wouldn't be seen before settling down to watch him to make sure that he wasn't going to break his nose on the tree. Her eyes suddenly went wide when his pants fell, however, and she turned away quickly. She waited until her cheeks cooled to a grey colour again before following the boot tracks, smirking at the image of the well endowed man.

A few minutes later she heard a scream. She turned to look, only to be set upon by two men. She attempted to jump away from them, but they both caught a hold of her thin arms. She snarled as she struggled and hissed out Elvish curses all the while.

“Looks like we got a live one, dunnit?”

“She looks pretty lively, now dun she?” one of the men brought a hand to her hood and yanked it back, revealing a Drow woman. Her skin was beautiful gray, her hair was a beautiful silver, and many scars littered her exposed skin. This didn't impede her beauty however. It merely gave her a feral vibe.

“This looks like the bitch,” one of them sneered. His hand slowly went up her arms and drifted down to her chest, causing her to snarl. To get away from the both of them she quickly used their grips on her arms to lift herself up off the ground, then her legs went opposite directions and caught both of them in their midsections. They let out cries of pain and fell away from her. She landed in a crouch and attempted to leave the both of them behind by running. She got about as far as a small clearing in the forest before she was stopped by a wall of bulging muscles and armour. She attempted to turn but she found the same thing. She was surrounded by men equipped with either iron or steel.

Right on the edge of the clearing was her target. When her eyes made contact with her he pulled back his cloak-hood to reveal an almost pleasant looking face. “I was wondering when you would catch up,” he clicked his fingers and the men closed in tighter around her, leaving him just outside of the circle. “I really would love to chat, Sinovera Bloodmoon, but I really must run. Tata!” He called out before walking out of the clearing in the superior manner of a noble.

Sinovera had given a slight surprised noise at his use of her name, but that surprise was only in place for about three seconds before she finally realized her situation. She was highly outnumbered.

“So boys, what were your orders?” There was a seductive tone to her voice as she spoke.

They all answered at the same time, “To kill you, slowly.”

“Ah, well, since I am sure that I won't be able to get out of this; would you terribly mind to give me one last wish?” Her hands went up to the buckles of her armour and slowly began to undo them.

“What would that be?” They all looked at her, some with gullible smirks, others with apprehension as her armour slowly slid off to reveal more dark skin that was marred with scars. They stood there, just staring at her, until they heard the first crack and saw the feral, wild look on the Drow's face.

“Fuck off and die,” she hissed before her body went into spasms. An array of squishing, cracking, and screams came off of her in waves as her entire body began to morph. Skin was pierced by fur, lips were pierced with large fangs, and her Elven ears began to move up her skull. The most horrifying thing to see however, was the bottom of her spine piercing the skin and extending outwards. Bare bone shined in the moonlight before blood, muscle, skin, and fur began to grow over it, making the tail.

Most of the men scattered away from her, some were just too dumbstruck to look away, and some just fainted right where they were. There was only one brave enough to raise his spear and bring it down upon her. She only barely managed to roll out of the way of a fatal hit, but the spear went into her leg quite deeply, causing a half human, half wolf howl to rip from her throat.

[Leoric]

Panic, fear, hope, and joy flashed through Leoric as he gave chase through the moonlit Concordia forest. Panic ran through him as he had just seen one of his masters techniques after him being dead for going on eight years. Fear that his master might have remembered the accidental killing blow that Leoric had placed. Hope that his master was back alive, he had been repressing everything he could about his past with booze and whores. Joy that he would finally be able to see the first, and really the only, person he had ever cared about outside of his mother.

Leoric's strong hand grabbed the trunk of a tree and went to use it as a slingshot to catch up with the wolf that was falling away from view. It was only a faint glow off in the forest at this point; but instead of being flung around the tree and catapulted towards his goal he got a thick tree branch directly to the bridge of his nose. A bloom of dust and dirt enveloped him as he hit the ground, clutching his nose in agony.

Obscenities flew out of his mouth under his breath as he rolled on the ground. He only stopped when he heard some movement going on nearby. Still clutching, what he assumed to be, his broken nose he glanced out from around a tree and saw a rather dark and beautiful Elf stuck in some kind of ambush. As he studied her for a quick second he realized that she was not actually an Elf, but a Drow.

He smirked as the booze that swam through his body made him wonder what they were like in bed. His body was instinctively getting ready to intervene. He was about to jump into the fray, ignoring the blood steadily dripping from his nose, when the Ghostly Wolf made an appearance just a few tree's away from him. The gaze that pinned Leoric in place was an eerily blue colour.

“What?” He mouthed as he stared into the wolf's eyes. After a moment he realized that the wolf was trying to get him to wait for the perfect moment. The blood-covered brawler decided to listen to his drunken hallucination and got into a crouched position, ready to pounce at a moments notice.

His eyes grew as wide as saucers just a few moments later when the change began. First it was shock and fear of what was happening to the young lass, then it was fear of what she was becoming and if she actually needed his help or not. He even gave a small thought as to if she was going to kill him if he appeared. Before he could finish his thought processes however, the shrill cry of a wolf howling into the night triggered his launch.

He took off at a full sprint towards the two closest bandits who were, at the time, backing away slowly from her. He quickly slit one's throat and quaking palmed the others chin. His head turned rather quickly to the side, making a sickening snap. Leoric then lowered his sword so it was blade side down and took off at a quick pace. His profile was small as he was almost hovering across the ground. His target was the man that had attacked the beautiful Drow. Even if she was covered in fur, claws, and fangs it strangely just added to her allure. As he got within striking distance he saw the white ghostly light that was emanated from the wolf engulf him and move with him, dissipating only as he slashed upwards across the brute's torso.

[Sinovera Of Bloodmoon]

The pain of the spear and her transformation weighed heavily on the half-changed Drow woman as she screamed to the moon. Her vision blurred and her head twirled as she reached for the spear-shaft to yank it out of her leg. She was met with very little resistance as she yanked the spear from her leg and tossed it to the side. Without the hindering effects of the spear in her leg she was able to continue her transformation with much less pain. When her eyes became focused again she saw a sword swing into the side of her assailant. She took this opportunity to lunge herself forward off the ground. Her limbs disagreed with the sudden movement, but she was able to sink her fangs into his throat. Her fangs sunk in like a hot knife through butter.

Copper-tasting liquid burst into the Lycanthropes mouth, causing her to let out a small, almost unintelligible growl. Fists pounded at her chest weakly as the hot liquid filled her mouth and overflowed to fall down her neck and chest. Soon the brute lay still as his life blood drained from him. Sinovera let his body fall with a loud thump as it hit the ground. She looked down at her handiwork with a wolfish grin when a commotion to her left drew her gaze. The large white wolf that she had seen earlier was running towards some more of her assailants. She quickly closed her eyes to take advantage of the distraction the large wolf created and she was soon finished with her transformation.

When she opened her eyes she found that instead of the sickly white wolf, there was a tall, handsome man fighting in its. She nearly laughed when she realized that it was the man she had seen pissing on a tree. She took in a deep breath to find that the air around her was filled with the musk of man, blood, stomach acid, and foul watered-down ale. Her nose crinkled for only a moment, then she saw a movement at the corner of her eye. She swiftly dodged to the side, just narrowly avoiding the heavy blow of a mallet. Had the ground not been damp she was sure she would have seen the ground crack under the blow. Instead the area directly around the mallet splashed with mud and dead leaves.

She crouched where her feet had landed in the roll and faced her assailant. Her wolfish muzzle curled in a vicious snarl, and what nearly sounded like a laugh came from her as her eyes twinkled with murderous intent. The man attempted to raise his weapon to defend himself; but before he could Sinovera was upon him. She landed on him with full force, causing him to lose his grip on his weapon and fall to the ground with an “oof”. Sinovera's fangs were soon wrapped around his throat. Instead of wasting time in cutting off his air and filling his lungs with blood, however, she simply shook her head and pulled back until his throat tore. Blood dripped from her fangs as she looked around at her surroundings for any other assailants, but the only others she found were either distracted by the man that had come to her aid, or were on the ground attempting to nurse crippling wounds.

A growl once again escaped her and she lunged at one of the last assailants whilst the man dealt with the other one. This one had been ready for her, however, and raised his steel daggers in a defensive stance. When she came within striking distance he slashed one dagger up, catching her across the face. This took off a good bit of fur and skin, but the adrenaline was coursing within her veins and she didn't even feel it. She did, however, reflexively close her jaws around his hand from the side. Her maw was big enough to completely envelop the hand, and the strength of her bite was enough to slice joint from joint, leaving nothing but hand and plenty of coppery liquid, in her mouth. The scream he uttered was ear-deafening and he fell to the ground, down and out of the game. She cruelly dropped the hand right in front of him, grinning sadistically as she saw him grab it and try to shove it back onto his profusely bleeding stump to no avail.

She then turned away from him to face the brown-haired man that had come to her aid. He had just struck the finishing blow to the last man standing in the clearing and turned to see her. Feral eyes met bruised, slightly unfocused eyes. She nearly gave a thought to covering herself up, for her torso was still that of a curvy young woman, but the fur was thick enough to where there was nothing but an outline showing. She opened her maw to speak to him but a sound brought her ear to twitch. She looked at him for only a few moments before running off in that direction. The adrenaline that was pumping through her veins allowed her to ignore the pain that radiated from her leg and face as she neared closer and closer to her target, rage fueling her even more.

[Leoric]

A smirk broke out across Leoric's face as he felt his sword slice into the assailant's side. However, before the man was able to feel the pain from Leoric's sword his throat was crushed under the maw of the beautiful yet terrifying beast before him. The bar brawler withdrew his sword and turned to face the last of the few assailants that still had the nerve to stand. Albeit one of them had soiled his britches, but he was still standing. Leoric looked at the man and then down to his britches.

“Now, now, I know I may be a tall, dark, and handsome man but why urinate yourself? That is not a way to show affection,” Leoric grinned with a hint of sadism as he brought his sword up in an arc slicing the man into pieces. With all the action that had been happening he had forgotten just how paranoid he had been feeling only moments prior. His masters return was definitely something to be puzzled and concerned about. Yet he couldn't leave someone to an ambush all by their lonesome.

Leoric flicked the blood off of his blade as he put it away in it's sheaf and looked at the blood spattered wolf-lady in front of him. This left him with a moment of hesitation; what would he do? One wrong move and he could be her next meal. Leoric looked straight into her mismatched eyes and saw something he had never seen in anyone's eyes before...beauty. He had spent years staring into ladies eyes as he bed them, making them think he loved them. These eyes were different, they called out to Leoric in a way he had yet to determine. Before he could ascertain as to what was going through the She-Wolf's head she twitched an ear and took off running.

“Phew,” the brawler sighed as he turned to see where she went. “Guess she had better things to do.”

“You! You are Leoric Bagua, aren't you?” A voice cried out from behind him.

Leoric turned and rose an eyebrow in question, “Could be, whose asking?”

“Me!' The man cried out as he went to punch Leoric in the gut. The bandit's fist made an unexpected stop against his leather chest piece only mere seconds before the forest was filled with cries of agaony and pain yet again. “What the fuck is your stomach made of?”

“Oh, you haven't heard of me yet? You knew my name so I thought you knew. I am Leoric 'Ironabs' Bagua.” He smirked as he watched the bandit get back up.

“Yeah, well, you are still no match for Verlain!” The bandit cried out as he stumbled a few steps.

“Verlain Cordone? The Silver-Tongued coward? That Verlain?” Leoric asked as he grabbed his leather gloves and began to put them on.

“He ain't no coward, you, you, you dick,” he said as he began to take a few steps away from Leoric.

“Why, yes, I do have a dick,” he paused for a moment as he began to walk towards the retreating bandit, “And yes, I use it often. The ladies like it when it comes out,” He smirked as he lunged forward and quaking palmed the guy in the face. As the bandit soared through the air Leoric remembered something. Verlain had always been able to get away from attacks aimed at his head. Be it the most experienced bounty hunter or the sneakiest assassin. Wolfy-chick may have been in trouble still.

Leoric took off in the direction that she had headed and he decided he would try his best to get behind Verlain. That way when he inevitably tried to run, Leoric would be waiting for him.

[Sinovera Of Bloodmoon]

“Come back here you son of a whore!” The wolf-creature howled out. She knew that she was letting her rage get the better of her, but she also knew that this man had no power that could keep a blood-lusting Lycan at bay. He knew that his companions were to fall beneath claw and fang, he had simply been buying himself time to get to his modem of escape. Sinovera wasn't going to allow him to escape, even if she ended up passing out from blood loss.

It wasn't very long before she was upon her opponent. She announced her presence by barking viciously. She saw him fall forward, startled by the sudden noise that had invaded his ears. Sinovera ended up sailing over him and landed just a few feet away from him. She turned in place so that she was faced towards him, crouched low, and stared him in the eyes. When his eyes widened at the very sight of her she allowed her face to split into a feral grin. Sharp, blood-soaked, ivory fangs shone in the moonlight. Her injured leg shook just a tiny bit under her weight, but blood-lust had numbed any pain, allowed her to revel in the hunt. Her very blood coursed with the need to shed the blood of her enemies.

Her ear twitched when she heard someone come the direction she had just come through. “No more running, Verlain,” she placed her front paw-hand forward, growling viciously. It was almost purr-like as her very skin tingled with the blood-rush of smelling fear in the air. The man rose to his feet at that moment. He was attempting to not show that he was scared shit-less, but the shaking of his shoulders and the slight watering to his eyes showed this quite evidently.

“Ah, Sinovera Bloodmoon. It would seem that you have finally caught up with me,” he had an air of arrogance about him that Sinovera knew was just him trying to stay his fear. His eyes constantly flitted from her own eyes to the rest of her strong, lithe form. “So, who was it this time?” He paused, taking a dry gulp to try and wet his bone-dry mouth. She remained silent and let out another growl. “I see that you have completely lost your wits!” Sinovera simply growled a bit louder and made a sudden lunge; more for intimidation purposes than anything else

The pompous ass fell back to try and get away from her, instead of dodging another lunge for him he found her just mere inches from his face. Her breath was hot against his face, the smell of copper filling his nostrils. His cloak had now fallen from his face, revealing more of his face to the moonlight above.
His hair was the colour of salt and pepper, his eyes the colour of a stormy day, and face weathered with age. He was not unpleasant looking, but his personality more than helped Sinovera ignore it.

“What, no snarky remarks?” She leaned in closer so that the only thing in Verlain's vision was her mismatched eyes. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. He saw no soul, however. He only saw himself. His own, quaking, frightened self.

“There is one thing that I would like to say before you do what you are thinking about,” he cringed away from the she-wolf when she let out another growl.

“And what is that, you puny little man?” She grinned viciously.

His face then suddenly transformed from one of fear into one of sadistic, evil intent. “You forgot that I am magically inclined!” He began to cackle with laughter as his eyes lit up in a bright silver. Sinovera didn't have enough time to move before he touched his hands to her chest. White hot pain filled her entire body, causing her to howl in pain.

When she recovered her senses she found that she had been flung several feet away from Verlain. Her entire side was a large ball of pain because of the tree that she had slammed into. When she looked up she saw the man standing there with a sadistic grin on his face, and a man behind him in the shadows. She attempted to move, but her side twinged as she felt, her side flare up with the acute pain of broken ribs.

“Poor, pathetic little dog. Do I need to find a muzzle and take you to see the animal healer?” He sneered at her, raising his hands. She saw them glow with fiery light and she quickly lunged. She didn't even think about what she was doing. She lunged herself forward, catching the man off guard. She then dug her claws into his flesh, lifted him over her head, and then flung him at the man in the shadows. She heard a sickening crunch as he hit the other man. When Verlain rolled back from his bounce on the other figure, Sinovera could see that his neck had been shattered. His head was turned completely the wrong direction. A life that had avoided so many tragedies and ailments, dead in the span of five heartbeats.

Sinovera allowed herself to grin for a moment, feeling accomplished in finally killing her target. She slowly looked up at the man that she had tossed Verlain at as her vision began to blur. Her hand went to her side, cupping the broken ribs. She almost wanted to laugh when she recognized it as the man who pissed on a tree before she fell unconscious. Then, as Lycnathropes tended to, when they pass out they revert back to their human form. Soon after there was nothing left in the clearing but a dead body, a large, handsome man, and a small, naked, Drow woman.

[Leoric]

Leoric rounded a tree and saw the confrontation in front of him. He smirked to himself; even with her injuries, she just wouldn't slow down. The thought that she may be dangerous was mildly intoxicating to him. Before he could even begin to think about how she could tear into him, the skill of her opponent was slammed into his chest, and not in the good way.

“Uf!” Leoric grunted as the sound of bone shattering filled the air around him. The Brawler hit the ground and rolled back a few feet before coming to a halt. The force was all that really hurt, and after close inspection, he was relatively unharmed. He thanked the Enchanter that had fixed up his chest piece to be as strong as Damascus as he got back to his feet. He chuckled as a funny, humiliating comment came to mind. “Poor bastard, what did I tell you about forcing your head on mine? I told you that you would end up breaking your neck at some point,”

Leoric rubbed his stomach as he stepped out from behind the tree to check on his little, unexpected partner in crime. She seemed to be nude, of course it was the first thing Leoric noticed, and she was unconscious. She was also losing quite a bit of blood from her leg wound, a wound on her face, and her side was already beginning to turn purple from her impact with a tree. Instinctively the training his 'Father' had given him sprang into action.

The Brawler rushed to her side and quickly took off his leather chest piece and draped her in it. He made sure to cover the 'fun bit' that on any other day he would of enjoyed looking at. He then quickly took out his sword and sliced off some fabric from the bottom of his pants leg. He quickly tied it around her wound and made sure it was nice and tight to stem the flow of blood. Sweat trickled down his face and he quickly wiped it away as he stood up. He then felt an acute shiver run through him as a gust of wind blew past him and back into the forest. Another shiver ran through his body when his mind fell onto a thought. The leather chest piee wasn't going to keep her warm for very long, if at all. So he quickly gathered some wood from the immediate area to start a fire nearby to keep her warm.

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Leoric shivered for the umpteenth time as he sat next to the fire. It was keeping the front of him warm, but his back had been taking the brunt of frigid night air. It had been many hours since their confrontation and someone was bound to be coming for the dead sooner or later. He turned around to look behind himself to make sure no one was sneaking up on him when heard some rustling coming from just the other side of the fire.

“Well hello sleepy head, don't try and move too much,” Leoric said with a smile on his face as he crossed his arms across his chest as the night sky began to light up a brilliant blue hue.

[Sinovera Of Bloodmoon]

Snow drifted down from a pure white sky, filling the empty space of the ground gradually. Sinovera sat in a small patch of sunlight that shone through the fluffy white clouds above. The sun was warm and welcoming, but on the edges of her little sanctuary there was a bitter cold. She felt the need to move, but she dared not for fear of running afoul of the cold. So, instead of moving, she sat there with her knees up to her chest, hiding her ample bosom from sight. She looked down at her legs to find that they had taken on a bluish tint. She didn't feel cold, but looking at her skin almost made her feel the bitter cold drifting just a foot away from her in all directions. She closed her eyes for just a moment, wondering just where she was. When she opened them back up she looked across the snowy plane to find something in the distance.

A tall, black figure moved towards her. She had no idea as to how it could stay out in the bitter cold, for she was sure that if she were to reach her hand out she would lose a finger or two. She let her eyes wander down to her own, blue tinted body and wondered if it would be so terrible to give in to the cold. Surely she had lived long enough, and survived enough that she deserved a rest. The idea was quite appetizing to her. She slowly ran a hand down her leg. Her hand lingered on her ankle however; she couldn't feel her hand resting on it. She could feel the pressure on her hand, but the ankle itself had no feeling to it.

This puzzled her to no end, though when she looked back up the wonder disappeared from her mind. She found that the black figure that had been a couple of yards away from her was now in front of her, staring at her with mismatched eyes. Sinovera took a steadying breath to calm her heart that had nearly beat out of her chest at the sudden appearance. She stayed seated where she was, knowing that moving in any direction would mean the cold would touch her. The Lycanthrope seemed to be hesitant to cross the line of snow and grass, anway.

Sinovera cast an appreciative eye towards the creature that stood just a foot away from her. The fur was a beautiful glossy black colour, the muscles that held her up were nice and strong, and its beautiful eyes. One was blue, and the other was golden. Sinovera looked into her own eyes, only in the eyes of the Lycanthrope. They were both attempting to find the alpha in the situation.

Slowly, without breaking her gaze, Sinovera arose from the ground. She firmly planted her feet on the warm grass beneath her bare feet and stood before the wolf, naked and unafraid. After what seemed like hours of unblinking stares Sinovera had began to notice that it had been slowly growing cooler within her circle of sunlight. She risked a look away from the she-wolf to find that the clouds were slowly closing over the sun. She turned her gaze back to the creature only to find that it was slowly inching towards her as the sun disappeared.

Sinovera didn't dare to move, not even when the sun completely disappeared, completely enveloping her in bitter cold and even more bitter darkness. The only heat that reached her was the warm breath of the wolf creature that was now merely inches away from her. Sinovera could only see the faint glow of mismatched eyes staring into hers. The rumble of a growl was clearly heard as it opened its mouth. However, instead of lunging for her throat, it spoke.

“Awake,” it said before disappearing in a sudden blinding light, then she was plunged into complete and total darkness. Rustling in the darkness began to stir her from the clutches of sleep. She uttered a soft groan when she had regained enough of herself to do it, then she attempted to move her hands so that she could lift herself up into a seated position. She took in a deep breath to prepare herself and paused at the strong scent of blood, piss, and the strong musk of a man.

“Well hello sleepy head, don't try and move too much,” Sinovera heard from across a fire that hadn't been there earlier. She attempted to get to her feet so that she could defend herself, but the second her injured leg had pressure on it she let out a cry of pain and fell back down, clutching her head as it became dizzy. The cry wasn't as soft as she would have wished it to be, for she didn't want to draw the attention of anyone beyond the man that was there with her. She took in deep breaths and let them out just as slowly to calm the spinning in her head. Then when she had sufficiently calmed her hurts she lifted herself up into a sitting position like she had been in her dream.

She looked down at herself to find that she wore the chest-piece of the man that sat across from her. When she attempted to toss it off of herself, her side burst into white-hot agony as her bruised side was disturbed. She carelessly, and quickly, tossed the leather piece off of herself and tossed it at him. She tried to hide the tears that had welled in her eyes from the pain as she then hid her body from sight as best she could and let her upper lip curl into a sneer.

“Who are you?” she growled at him.

[Leoric]

The wind had picked up slightly and was blowing all the warm air towards the unconscious lady that laid on the opposite side of the fire. Leoric was alright with this because she really needed the warmth more than him at that moment. The shivering man stood up and decided that in order to keep warm he would keep moving. He did a quick perimeter check about a medium sized range around their camp to make sure that they were relatively safe. Once he was sure they were in no danger he went back to the fire to quickly warm up.

“As much as I rather keep her warm, I kinda do need my own clothes back,” He shivered again and looked back through the trees, looking towards where this whole escapade had began. The clearing was only a few trees away. Leoric figured he could make the dash in roughly thirty seconds. So after another quick scan of the forest he took off in a sprint.

Just as he was about to enter the clearing, and the adrenaline had wore out of his system, his body reminded him of how much alcohol he had consumed earlier that night. The inebriated brawler tripped on a root that stuck out of the ground and smashed his face off a nearby tree that he had fallen towards. His desire to stay upright had also caused him to place his foot on the edge of a loose rock, rolling it. He hit the ground and cursed under his breath. His nose was bleeding...again, and his ankle was now killing him.

He managed to get up and hobble over to where his injured 'companion' had transformed earlier. Sure enough, her equipment had been right there. Leoric had then dropped to his knees and let out a deep sigh as he began to gather up her equipment into a bundle. He made sure nothing had been damaged and quickly began his hobble back to the fire. He made sure he could always see where the fire was, just in case someone decided to try and take advantage of the unconscious woman. Luckily, no one had come around, the battle sounds and the fierce cries must of scared off anyone in the area.

Leoric dropped his companion's belongings behind a log and quickly plopped himself down. He was a mess at that point. His face was bleeding, he couldn't put any pressure on his right foot, and to top it off he was still drunk. The adrenaline from before had clearly over-ridden his feelings of being impaired. Much like the pain he was feeling was now doing. He grabbed his pants leg and ripped off some more cloth to bind his ankle. He had to keep the swelling down. His face... that was a little trickier. It was going to take some more work to make that look good again. Once the binding was done he spotted a fairly large leaf nearby and picked it up. It was covered in dew, just what he needed. He used it to wipe away most of the blood on his face before he thew it into the fire.


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Leoric shook his head from the flashback when the she-wolf asked her question. “Leoric, the man who saved you, not once, but twice now,” Leoric smirked as he put on his leather chest piece again. The leather was still warm from the Drow's body and he sighed in relief as warmth began to return to his skin. He then reached behind the log he was sitting on and grabbed a bundle of material and tossed to the Drow. “If you are going to talk you are probably going to want these.” Normally, Leoric would have rather stared at the sexy, slim, naked figure in front of him. Today, however, after seeing the ghost animals of his master he wasn't in much of a mood.

The wind blew carelessly through the forest, rustling leaves, blowing a cool gust over their makeshift camp. Leoric shivered as the young lass turned away to hurriedly get dressed. Leoric, after making sure the perimeter of the camp was secured again he returned to the clearing to see his 'companion' fully dressed.

He waited a few moments before speaking again. “Look, I know you have no real reason to trust me, besides the fact hat I Just saved you. Twice. But we need to get out of here soon before reinforcements or scavengers arrive. I am in no condition to defend up, and you, as gorgeous as you are, don't look to be in the shape either,” Leoric sighed as he looked down to see his ankle as it throbbed. “How 'bout we head back to town? I got a room at the Inn we could use until we are back to working order?”

The wind blew through the forest again, penetrating Leoric to his core, causing him to close his eyes and shiver. As he opened his eyes he stared directly at the lady before him. “I never asked your name, I apologize. What is your name, my shape-shifting compatriot?

[Sinovera Of Bloodmoon]

Sinovera looked at her equipment as it landed beside her for a good long while, listening to what he said in silence. Her beautiful eyes seemed to be drained. Bags had appeared under them and nearly looked bruised. Her shoulders also had a small shaking to them. She showed no emotions, as was the Elvish custom, but it was obvious that she was distressed. Slowly her upper lip curled upwards, revealing a growing canine.

“My name is Sinovera,” she paused a moment to reach out and grab her equipment. She then raised her gaze to the giant man's gaze. “You seem rather formal and polite for a man who was piss-drunk not too long ago.” There was venom in her voice, but she relaxed her shoulders of some tension before getting up and slipping on her leather armour. She had a great amount of difficulty because of her black and blue side. With the distraction of pain she hadn't particularly cared if the man saw her naked. She was sure that he had enough of a look, and a feel, whilst she was passed out. She kept a cold gaze on Leoric as he made another perimeter check as she buckled the buckles of her armour. She then swooped down to pick up her weapons. When Leoric arrived back into the clearing she saw that his skin was quite blue where it was exposed.

She raised a silver eyebrow in his direction, “Also, you seem to be in rather high spirits considering that your face has been smashed, your skin is blue from cold, and you smell as though you were recently frightened,” she paused a moment to give him an appreciative once-over. “You don't seem like you could be frightened by much.” She let out a sudden grunt of pain as her leg twinged as she shifted her weight. She was attempting to ignore the pain as best she could, but the leg wasn't going to heal like a small cut, it was going to take at least a few days to heal to a scar.

“So, tell me, why did you choose to step in and save a 'Shape-Shifting Compatriot' instead of just walking on your way?” She leaned herself against a tree, just outside of the heat of the fire. This was simply for a more mysterious effect, but it wouldn't last for long since the sun was lighting up the sky.