It had been a while since Kesh’gar was in the comfort of the forest and, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was deeply at ease being so far removed from everything. There was no real rush for Kesh’gar to get back to camp so he figured he would take his time and enjoy the forest at night. A true scholar needs time in isolation to think. The woods have peace that the city just can’t match. Kesh’gar stopped to survey silver reflections of light that fell off of the leaves and grass around him. Most creatures would find great discomfort in being so exposed in the dark but to Kesh’gar in came as natural as being on cobbled roads in the day. Each nocturnal sound was an easily identifiable creature to Kesh’gar’s honed ears and his stature and presence deterred any of the typical predators that would normally stalk their prey during this time.
Understanding the intent of nature seemed easier to Kesh’gar than trying to make sense of the motivations of other people. Already since leaving his home he had been rejected from the school of magic and hastily recruited into an adventuring guild that he was hardly familiar with. I just need to finish this quest and get my recommendation letter and my life will be back on track. Kesh’gar felt a rush of excitement at the thought of hours spent in spell tomes. He pondered what specialty he would focus on or whether he could master multiple. Why limit myself? What if I’m a prodigy? Transmuting didn’t seem like a specialty that Kesh’gar would thrive in. Turning lead into gold was a cheap thieves trick and not worth the talent that he felt he had. Why would I need to transform anything when everything is already perfectly balanced out here?
As much as he tried, Kesh’gar knew he would miss this scenery once he became a student in Yellowfield. There were no ivy covered trees in the city, nor were there the symphonic sounds of insects. All of these experiences were perfumed in the fresh aroma of bark and leaves and thoughtfully delivered to Kesh’gar and he trekked back towards his friends at their campfire. He was truly eager to get back and finally rest his feet for the night. He was so distracted at the thought of rest, Moss almost couldn’t detect Hazel approaching through the trees. She floated just a few feet above the ground on her broom but stopped once she ran into the half-orc.
“What are you doing out here?” Kesh’gar inquired. Despite her feline disposition, Kesh’gar knew that Hazel possessed no ability to see in the dark like him or his brother.
“I was looking for my way back to camp.” Hazel replied in Kesh’s general direction. “Since I’ve found you I must be going the right way.”
“Kind of. I was taking a slight detour to get a better lay of the forest while I had time. I can go ahead and take you back to camp though.”
Kesh’gar expected a response of agreement but instead met with a sudden change in Hazel’s disposition. He watched her quickly dismount from her broom and glance around while pulling two small blades from her belt.
“What are you doing?” Kesh’gar reached for his spellbook trying to think of a quick way to disable Hazel. Before he could get his tome fully unstowed, Hazel had already hurled one of her daggers at his head. Kesh’gar’s eyes were well adjusted to seeing in the dark and he knew he could easily dodge the blade, but the blade seemed to be thrown at an off trajectory and would just narrowly miss him. The half-orc decided it was best to not take chances and dove out of the way regardless.
“Have you finally lost your mind?” Kesh’gar shouted as he rolled back to his feet. It was taking all of his willpower not to reach for his ax. Hazel was still focused on the blade she had thrown. She hadn’t even turned to face Kesh’gar in his new position. He decided not to let the opening pass and began to lunge at her, but in the time it took to get to his feet another form had already placed itself between him and Hazel. Kesh’gar realized the true target of the dagger when he saw it protruding from the chest of the beast in front of him.
The werewolf was an uncommon but well known cursed beast. These creatures had many origins. Some were born as werewolves and are true descendents of the curse while others are formed from mortals who make bargains with dark and powerful beings in exchange for power. Kesh’gar knew that if there was one werewolf here then there would likely be more. A pack of werewolves gone unchecked by a hunting guild would explain the disappearances of travelers in the forest. What was unclear to Kesh’gar was how a pack managed to form so quickly without being noticed sooner. Kesh’s thoughts were interrupted by a high scream from Hazel as the creature closed in on her and dug its claws into her frame. Hazel seemed to squirm under the weight of this monstrous beast but was tightly wedged between its claws and the hard ground. With her free hand she swiped at the creature's face, dragging her last blade across trying desperately to get it to release her.
Seeing Hazel struggle, Kesh’gar began to panic. He tried to recall any of the spells from his spellbook that could help her but he didn’t have the time to review the incantations. Kesh’gar decided to utilize the strongest spell he could remember at that moment. He began chanting the incantation and interweaving his fingers. As he pulled his hands apart small strands of lightning flickered between his palms and fingers creating tiny, yet brilliant, flashes of light. With each bolt of electricity followed a deep boom that grew more boisterous until Kesh’gar finished the incantation. He pulled his hands fully apart, tearing the strands of lightning and releasing a deafening burst of thunder. The werewolf immediately pulled its hands to cover its ears, but by that point it was too late. The sound traveled with such aggressive force the creature was deafened and stunned staggering back from Hazel and falling against the trees.
In an attempt to stop the sound, the creature lunged at Kesh’gar next. The orc didn’t even bother to move and the werewolf staggered to the side of him, fully missing any attack.
“It must be difficult to fight without a sense of equilibrium” Kesh’gar gloated.
Hazel tried to make out what Kesh’gar was yelling out to her but she was distracted by the forest floor spinning beneath her. She could feel her blood pooling beneath her but forced herself back to her feet regardless. Hazel charged the beast while it was focused on Kesh’gar and leaped aiming to land on its back. The monster turned around in time to face its ambusher but not quick enough to prevent Hazel from landing squarely on its chest and plunging her last dagger into it. Hazel, fueled by adrenaline and survival instincts, refused to let up until her body fully gave in and grabbed her other blade protruding from the werewolf and yanked the knife out with a sharp twist before digging it back in further.
Kesh’gar did not want to let the opportunity that Hazel created pass. He could feel currents of electricity still running through his fingers from his earlier spell. A small jolt seemed like more than enough to finish off his foe. Kesh’gar went to place his hands into the werewolf’s fur, but the beast swung around whipping Kesh’gar down with deadly claws. Hazel could feel her grip fail and was easily swung off into an already unbalanced Kesh’gar. The two crushed all of the undergrowth beneath them as they crashed into the thick tree roots behind them. Kesh’gar tried to stand before the werewolf could strike again but the creature was already lunging forward towards Hazel. The most Kesh’gar could think to do was to put himself between her and her assailant.
Hazel had come close to death several times but never so frequently in such a short span of time. She wasn’t sure if maybe that was the reason she could feel her thoughts straying from the danger at hand. It was easier to reflect on her time spent with her mothers. She let herself drift back to less stressful days of practicing shifting under her mother’s tutelage. She used to struggle significantly to switch back and forth. Now she was going to be killed by a creature that had no difficulty embracing its feral side. Kesh’gar was fully blocking Hazel by this point but she knew he had no chance of defeating this monster if he took a direct hit for her. She tried to push Kesh’gar back out of the way but his body was firm and unyielding.
“Move!” That final word was the only sound Hazel could get out of her body before she heard a blow land. She was expecting the sound of muscle tearing but instead she was mesmerized as streaks of ghoulish pink and purple light crackled in front of her. The werewolf’s screams were almost drowned out by the electrified air booming in front of her but Hazel listened and watched the light be torn from the eyes of her foe. Hazel could feel the adrenaline leaving her system and began to slip into blackness. The last sight she had, the half opened glassy eyes of the now dead werewolf laying in front of her.
Kesh’gar, still alert for an attack, knew he couldn’t tend to Hazel until this new attacker was deadly with.
“Was there only the one?” A wash of relief fell over Kesh’gar upon hearing Roze.
“So far, yes.” Kesh’gar responded while turning to assess Hazel’s condition. “Be careful though. These things usually travel in groups. There may be a second one lurking around here and if not, I would be worried for everyone left at camp.”
“You don’t have to worry. Your brother continued to check in on Niera and Rhenigan but I’m pretty confident they will be fine if you were able to handle one of these.” Roze mocked.
Normally, Kesh’gar would have found Roze’s inappropriate comedic timing more amusing but he knew the severity of fighting werewolves and the risk that came with it. “Niera and Rhenigan have barely fought experienced bandits before, let alone cursed werewolves. They are not going to be prepared to fight them.”
“And what about yourself? Look at you! Look at Hazel! You both barely managed to scrape by. If I hadn’t shown up you’d both be dead. At least Niera will have sense enough not to do something reckless like throw herself directly in front of the thing.”
Roze began lifting Hazel onto her back but Kesh’gar pulled the weight onto himself. “Grab her broom,” He directed, “We need to get back to camp quickly.”
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