"Damn!" growled Freya, as the wyverns circled high over the heads of fighter and thief, far out of reach of Coran's arrows.
"I've never seen wyverns act this way," confessed Coran, puzzled. He brushed back his auburn hair from the side where he wore it long, though it immediately flopped back into his face. "Why don't they try to eat us? Hey lizard! Come on down! Fresh meat right here!"
He turned to his new travelling companion. The sun bore down on her mane of golden hair and her grey eyes flashed with annoyance as she scanned the sky. She was a good head taller than the elf, indeed she towered above most human men too, like the avatar of some war goddess. Above her their great scaly prey circled angrily, bearing their poisoned fangs and making snapping motions but coming no closer.
"I don't get it," he shrugged, "It's almost like they're scared of us!"
"The scaly little gits must be able to smell me," Freya muttered, frustrated. The heat was becoming unbearable. After a while, the pair of them left the glade and retreated to the shade of the trees. There was a pleasant breeze down here and a sweet smell of fungi and rotting leaves.
She closed her eyes and breathed in and out deeply. He had only asked her to join his hunt a couple of days ago but already he had noticed that this was her habit. Every time they went anywhere new, or anything about the scenery changed, the very first thing she would do was close her eyes and inhale. Coran gazed at her lustfully. She was the most stunning human woman he had ever set eyes on, and his eyes got around.
"Smell you? Come now Freya, I know you've washed at least once since the bridge!" he laughed. He bent his head slightly too close to her neck and sniffed teasingly. At that same moment Freya gave a great yawn and threw her arms back to stretch her muscles. As she did so, she accidentally caught Coran a heavy blow across the chops.
"Sorry," she yawned mildly as he stumbled back. Coran regained his balance and rubbed his jaw. It seemed for all the world like an accident, and yet this sort of thing happened so often that he was beginning to suspect that she was doing it on purpose. Not that this would put him off! He had watched from a bridge as the unarmoured young woman had fought off two giant spiders and a cave bear while hardly breaking a sweat. Barring only the elf-queen herself, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever set eyes on, and at first he feared that he had crossed the path of one of the human pantheon.
A brief introduction had rapidly disabused him of any notions of her divinity. She was blunt, rowdy and had a sense of humour that was a bit vulgar even by his standards. However, judging by her rusty swords and chewed up boots she was also short of cash. Perhaps, despite numerous other adventurers turning their noses up at his scheme, his luck was finally changing.
"An adventurer without armour?" he had quipped, raising an eyebrow. "Some might call that reckless. Suicidal even."
"My armour was stolen," she had replied grouchily. She stomped up onto the bridge in front of him, clearly in a foul mood. Their first meeting was off to a poor start. "Now get out of my way before I decide to take yours!"
"Who would steal from a lovely lady like yourself?" Coran flashed her his best, winning smile. The beautiful young lioness merely looked irritated, but at least he had her attention. "And let's face it who would be capable of stealing from you? You're enormous! I suppose you could steal my armour but you'd probably crack a rib trying to put it on. Really though, who took your stuff?"
"I had to take it and my pack off a few weeks ago to stash them overnight or they would have gotten… damaged," said Freya evasively. "Somebody must have seen me hiding them."
In fact, Freya knew perfectly well who the mysterious 'somebodies' were. Some hobgoblin bandits had watched her hide her valuables under a dense bush at full moon. They had seen her veer off deep into the wood carrying nothing but padlocks and chains. They could have taken her things and made a clean getaway, but instead they made the mistake of following her after they robbed her. No doubt they were of a mind to bring their masters a new slave. This had turned out to be a fatal error of judgement on their part.
The hobgoblins had caught the glint of moonlight reflected from a metal chain wrapped about a huge, ancient oak. Except as they rounded the tree, instead of the lone semi-naked woman they had been expecting, the unlucky mercenaries had found themselves face to face with a fully-grown werewolf. The chain was long and the hobgoblins were slow. Their meat turned out to be revolting, so when they all lay dead, the bored wolf had turned her savage attention to her own belongings. By the time dawn came and she resumed her human form, most of them were unsalvageable.
"Well it seems Tymora smiles upon us both today!" beamed the elf. "My name is Coran, thief and archer! I have been alone in this wilderness for far too long!"
"There are things in these forests that can really make you appreciate being alone," Freya had barked throatily. "I'm one of them. Now move!"
She shouldered the elf out of the way with ease and he wobbled dangerously on the edge of the bridge. The merry, bubbly little river below him was not so deep that he could not stand up in it but the water would ruin his things and leave him cold.
"Wait!" he called. The woman let out a long, irritated snarl, but she did look back. "I need some help to collect a bounty. I'd share the reward with you if you would help hasten the hunt! You interested in hearing more?"
A muscle spasmed in Freya's jaw. She could not travel in a party like other adventurers. It was too great a risk, partly because she was taking on the Iron Throne. Partly because after running and leaving her Dad to be slaughtered she was not in the mood for company. Yet mostly because once a month she turned into a feral bloodthirsty monster. However, she had no armour, no food and barely functional swords. Money was becoming an issue.
"What sort of reward and can we do it fast?" she demanded, turning reluctantly back to Coran. If she could get the job done and lose the elf before full moon, this might solve her problem. It was only days away though, so they would need to be quick about it.
"I'm glad you're smart enough to recognize opportunity when it comes knocking," grinned Coran. "The deal is this: I've been hired by the mayor of Beregost to hunt down a great winged dragon that's been plaguing the caravan routes."
"You seem a little… delicate to be taking on dragons," remarked Freya.
"He's offered two thousand gold for its head," Coran continued. "Now before you get cold feet-"
"A thousand gold each? Done! Where's this dragon?" laughed Freya, drawing a bastard sword and slashing it expertly. She had a great, booming laugh like the bark of a St Bernard. As soon as he named the bounty she had transformed from grumpy and indifferent to glowing like the shining sun.
It was infectious. Coran had found himself laughing too, unable to believe his good fortune. Eye-candy, strong and mad enough to take on a real dragon! Of course, there was no dragon. As he had explained to Freya on their stroll through the woods their real quarry was a wyvern's nest. They had tracked it down in a couple of days without much difficulty. The elf had been watching the skies for over a week and had a fair idea of where to look.
Yet as soon as they got within a few hundred yards of the nest there was an explosion of wyverns. The whole family; female, male and all of their babies flew into the air and refused to come down. Coran could not understand it. A human and an elf? To a wyvern family that ought to mean an entrée and appetizer. What were they playing at? What could possibly have them so spooked?
Freya looked up at the venomous barbed monstrosities frolicking about in the cloudless sky. It was no good. The blasted things could obviously smell canine on her as clearly as she could scent their acrid acid. What a sodding nuisance, that gold was badly needed.
"I don't think this is going to work," she groaned, shaking her yellow head. The auburn elf grinned at her playfully. She shrugged. "Well, nice meeting you. See you around."
She turned and started striding away, back toward the bridge where they had met. Coran blinked and ran after her. She was only walking but because of her long strides he had to scurry to catch up with her. The woman's height and sheer power meant that the thick brambles posed no more obstacle to her than they would a passing rhinoceros, but he was getting badly scratched.
"Woah, woah, woah!" he cried. "Hang on! What's the hurry? So the wyverns don't want to play today! Let's head to the nearest tavern. Even the most prolific adventurer must take some time to rest. Why don't we relax and get to know each other until the next time there's a storm? They'll have to go back to their cave then."
"Rest already? You tire out easily for an adventurer don't you?" asked Freya, raising a perfect eyebrow.
There was a sudden ripping noise. The seam of Freya's torn and damaged pack had given way under the weight of the heavy chains inside it. She threw back her mane and cursed the sky as they clanged noisily to the ground. Coran looked at them, and the great metal padlocks, eyes gleaming.
"Well here's fun!" he cried.
"And you can go bugger a goat!" retorted Freya, her voice cracking. She froze. Her voice was always the first thing to change whenever she started to lose control. Full moon was one thing but if she started letting the wolf take over when it was days away… no, Dad would have wanted her to get a grip. She focussed on Selune, patron goddess of non-evil lycanthropes and breathed in counting to six and out slowly. When she spoke again her voice was normal.
Coran was trying to inspect the chains and found to his surprise that he could barely lift them. These were dwarf forged and whatever they were made from it was no common metal.
"Wow, I think I'm changing my mind about flirting with you," he quipped. "You obviously have some terrifying kinks."
"Praise Selune for small mercies," Freya muttered.
"No, no, I was joking!" cried Coran hastily. "I'm totally up for exploring… whatever this is!"
Freya turned back to look at him, shaking her head exasperatedly. The elf wanted his wyverns and, quite unsubtly, to get laid. Neither of these things were on the cards. What was a potential outcome of travelling with her was being eaten alive next full moon. Gorion had hired Selunite monks to live with them at Candlekeep and years of therapy and meditation had taught her to control her transformations… but only just.
Ever since that gang of thugs had murdered her Dad (as she had run away and let them) she had been completely losing the plot every full moon. The chains had gone from being a precaution to an absolute necessity.
"You've got the wrong woman," she said. "Trust me."
Before Coran could open his mouth to argue, a third figure came stomping out of the underbrush. If Freya had been in a temper when he had first run into her it was nothing compared to this woman. She walked with a bullish stoop, clenched her teeth constantly and an angry vein kept flickering in her temple. It was unusual for him to meet any representative of the female gender and immediately decide 'no' but there was something about her that felt off-putting even to him. As she approached, she drew her sword, glaring threateningly at him.
"Stay behind me," Freya instructed Coran, stepping between the pair of them.
"Hold travellers! I am Shar-Teel and I challenge your best warrior to a dual!" she bellowed from under her horned helmet. Freya shrugged and hefted her bastard sword, not even bothering to draw the second and dual wield. The woman shook her head grimly. "I don't fight women so only men should step forward."
Freya glanced back at Coran. He was less daintily built than she had been led to expect from elves. There was definitely some spare tyre and the beginnings of a double chin going on. Nevertheless he was shorter than this woman and decidedly lacking in muscle tone by comparison. No doubt he was an accomplished thief and perhaps an adequate archer but a dual? She laughed again and shook her head. Coran scowled. He liked to make stunning women laugh, but laugh with him not at him.
"Sure," he grinned recklessly. "What are the rules and the rewards for winning?"
If he won perhaps his dazzling new friend would be impressed. If he lost then maybe she would nurse him back to health and he could win her heart that way? It had to be worth a shot.
"You're gonna get your arse kicked…" Freya sang to him under her breath.
"I win and you give me twenty gold," Shar-Teel declared. "In the unlikely event that this male bests me I will pledge my sword to your cause."
At this, Freya groaned inwardly and made a silent appeal to her patron goddess to get her out of this mess. The last thing she needed was to be saddled with another travelling companion. She wondered which one the wolf would make a midnight snack out of first.
"Ok, catch you two later," she declared hastily. "Have fun!"
"Hold up!" cried Coran, "What if she injures me? Are you seriously just going to let me bleed to death in the forest?"
"Wait, what?" cried Freya. "Why the hell not? You accepted the dual you cheeky sod! What did you do that for? We don't even get a decent prize if you win! What in the name of Selune's shining arse are you going to do with this nut job if you 'win' her services?"
Coran thought for a moment. Then his eyes lit up deviously. He drew his sword and twirled it with, admittedly, more skill than Freya would have given him credit for.
"You still want your share of the dragon bounty?" he laughed wildly. Freya nodded. She had run out of food and was fighting without armour. She very much wanted that gold. "Then stick around and find out what I'll do with her if we win!"
"Ah sod it, what the hell?" muttered Freya. At least the fight might be entertaining to watch and she could always intervene if it got too serious. She plonked herself down on a fallen log. It had been drying long in the sun and burned slightly through her threadbare trousers but she ignored it and at length her own shadow cooled it down. As the two fighters approached each other, she idly picked pieces of dried moss from the log to plug some of the holes in her boots.
Shar-Teel, it seemed, had some sort of personal vendetta against men. She was strong but she swung her blade with a furious savagery. It seemed to Freya that it wasn't so much that she lacked skill as that she did not respect the man sufficiently to bother using it. Coran was extremely nimble on his feet. She swatted at him with her blade as though he were a buzzing fly. This was appropriate since he seemed almost as evasive as one. At one point his heel caught on a protruding root and he stumbled backward. Shar-Teel advanced on him sword raised in both hands but he rolled out from under the blow and hopped back to his feet.
"Oh, come on!" barked Freya, annoyed at not being able to join in the fight herself. "If you hadn't gone for a killing blow you'd have had him then! You should have slashed his leg!"
"I wanted to kill him!" panted Shar-Teel, with a vindictive smile. Her eyes were glittering with anticipation.
"Cripple him first and then kill him!" cried Freya, adding under her breath, "Fucking amateur."
"Hey! Whose side are you on anyway?" cried Coran. For a second, Shar-Teel glanced at Freya, curious as to her answer. The elf lunged in like a hungry crocodile and brought his blade down upon her sword hand.
She cursed and came at him again, slashing and stabbing more ferociously than ever before so that Freya was sure she might have had him, were it not for the fact that blood is only sticky when it dries. Hers was pouring straight from her hand, fresh and slippery. She was losing her grip on her sword. The wolf in Freya caught the scent of the blood, reminding her sharply that Shar-Teel was not the only one at risk of losing her grip.
"Wrap it up!" she commanded impatiently.
Neither Coran nor Shar-Teel had any particular reason to lend authority to Freya, but the werewolf had a vastly inflated charisma. When she gave direct orders people, even quite authority-averse people, tended to lean toward obeying them. Coran ceased dancing around trying to wear his opponent out and pressed his advantage. Shar-Teel was livid but the pain in her sword hand was growing overpowering and she was struggling to retain her grip on her own blade.
Finally the elf spotted an opening and flicked the sword into the grass in a splatter of its owner's blood. Freya closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, savouring the delicious scent for a moment before she caught herself. She shook her head and opened her eyes again to see the elf looking at her with his head cocked to one side thoughtfully.
"I can't believe a male beat me!" spat Shar-Teel. "Very well. I shall pledge my sword to your cause."
"That's just peachy," groaned Freya. "Now what?"
Coran grinned mischievously, sheathed his sword, and led the way back to the clearing where the wyverns circled. When they reached the treeline, he motioned to Freya to stay under the cover of the leaves.
"You know sweetling," he murmured with a shrewd grin, "I'm starting to get the impression that it might be you that these beasts are afraid of. The lady who carries chains wherever she goes and relishes the smell of blood so much. Best not let them catch a clear whiff of you, eh? But be so kind as to lend me those lovely shackles of yours and get ready to come running out when they swoop!"
He made Shar-Teel stand in the middle of the clearing and instructed her to smear her own face and arms with the blood from her hand. Suddenly, without warning, he snapped a heavy manacle around her leg. Then to her fury, he chained her to the tree that was jutting out furthest into the glade, breaking off branches so that the hungry wyverns could get a clear view.
"That should get them nice and riled up!" he chuckled, darting back into the trees with Freya. High above them, the wyverns began to screech. Shar-Teel helped to attract their attention by flinging herself against the chains and screaming abuse at both of them.
"Screw the pair of you!" she hollered furiously. "The first thing I'm going to do when I get out of here is slaughter you both, oath or no oath! I'll do you nice and quick Freya, but Coran? Coran are you listening? I'm going to gut you! I'm going to slice off that sad little worm between your legs and make you eat it! I'm going to chop off your testicles, gouge out your eyeballs and swap them around! I'm going to-"
"Cut it out!" called Coran jovially, pointing to Freya who was bent over double, wheezing with laughter. "You're distracting Freya! You need her alert and focussed if she is to save you from the wyverns, my fair damsel in distress… Woah!"
At that moment a wyvern really did swoop, missing Shar-Teel by inches. The rush of wind as it passed swept up the fallen leaves into her face and hair. She scowled at it defiantly. It was the male. Freya got the impression that it really would matter to this mad buffalo of a woman which gender she was gobbled up by. The Selunite drew her swords and tightened her grip on the hilts.
"Don't kill the male outright," Coran whispered. "Try to incapacitate him. If you can ground him the others will follow but if you slay him they'll retreat and keep attacking the caravans."
Freya nodded. As the wyvern dived again, she darted out from the trees and slashed his wing. The creature roared with fury and turned around, swinging his barbed poison tail. Shar-Teel flinched back as it almost sliced into her. This monster may not be a real dragon, but he was still a formidable opponent. He snapped his fangs at Freya, catching her sword in his jaws. She yanked it hard back and forth. It must have been shredding his tongue and gums but the wyvern refused to let go.
In the end Freya gave up on retrieving it. She pulled back with all her strength, he braced himself and pulled with all of his. Then quite suddenly, she released the blade. The wyvern's head jolted backward and the sword went with it pricking the back of his throat. As Freya slipped under to slash the frail, thin skin of his second wing with her remaining sword, the wyvern bent forward, choking. She did not have long to savour the win however. Around her she could hear the solid thumps of landing wyverns and she was down a weapon.
"Coran! Little help?" she barked.
The elf, who had been watching her fight with a mesmerized expression, jumped to attention and started shooting. He concentrated his fire on the smaller, weaker wyverns while Freya handled the female. The male was too distracted trying to dislodge the sword from his throat to pose any real threat. One of the young wyverns tried to help by reaching into its father's mouth to pull the blade out. It clamped its mouth around the hilt, but when the male felt the blade move, he snapped his teeth closed over his unfortunate offspring's head. The poison from its punctured glands gushed down his gullet, finishing him.
Freya and the female wyvern were locked in a sort of dance. The creature was royally pissed off and came at her with everything, from swinging barbed tail and ripping claws to snapping venomous teeth. The werewolf was dodging but barely. She landed a solid blow on the wyvern's scaly flank but her hide was too thick for it to do any real harm. Unlike the male, this one was leaving her no opening to duck under the wing. Then a young wyvern came up alongside Freya and she was obliged to decapitate it before it bit and poisoned her. This gave the female wyvern the chance at a free blow, and it used it to swipe her sword from her hand.
"Damn, damn, damn!" yelled Freya, as the sword spun in a shining arc over their heads, lodging in a distant tree. "Once again Selune, in her infinite wisdom, has donned her divine dildo and fucked me in the arse!" With that sword gone and the other buried in a dead wyvern she had no chance of retrieving either. There was only one option left now.
"Freya!" Coran cried out urgently. The young wyverns were all dead, but his arrows were bouncing uselessly off of the female's sizable bottom.
"Er, so don't freak out and shoot me or anything…" Freya began, edging cautiously away from the wyvern to buy herself time, "But there's something you probably ought to know…"
"I'm about to see what those chains are for aren't I?" he called back.
"Yeaaaaarrrrrgghh!"
Shining golden fur erupted from her skin and her already large muscles began to expand. Her clothes, though rather battered, must carry some sort of special enchantment because they were transforming with her. The nails on her hands lengthened into claws and her face was elongating in a quite fascinating way.
"Oh damn, she has a tail…" Coran sighed longingly, as certain parts of his own anatomy underwent a rather less dramatic transformation.
In a few seconds a great blonde wolf was hunched on all fours, snarling at the wyvern. They were two truly magnificent monsters, and the elf wished that he had some skill with a paintbrush so that he might capture this moment for posterity. Though Freya spoiled it slightly by letting a large blob of drool splash from her muzzle and onto the ground between them.
Freya leaped at the wyvern and brought her fangs down hard over its snout. Fortunately, she missed the poison glands, which Coran had neglected to warn her about, but the injury prevented the female from using her best weapon. There were still the claws and the tail to contend with however. It slashed at the werewolf with both sets of talons. The first missed but the second tore a deep gash into Freya's shoulder, staining her fur with luscious red blood.
Coran tried shooting at it again, this time aiming for the face. Even there her armour was fairly impenetrable. Unless he were to actually manage to hit her in the eye, but that was a tiny moving target. Nevertheless, it did succeed in distracting her. It is impossible, even for a monster, to ignore fast-moving projectiles approaching one's face. Freya's bite was not enough to penetrate far into the wyvern's throat, so she switched to claws instead. Soon the wolf was slashing over and over and tearing out scales a few at a time. Finally, when the floor of the glade was coated with hard green discs, Freya had torn a large enough opening in the beast's neck to put an end to the battle. Coran released a final shot into the gap and it pierced her gullet. The wyvern made a hacking noise and dropped to the floor, writhing.
Freya changed back into a human and bounded over to Shar-Teel who was strangely quiet. The werewolf wrenched the other woman's sword from its scabbard, but the warrior made no objection to the theft. Then she returned to the dying wyvern. Broadswords were not her specialty but this creature was suffering and she needed its head to collect their bounty. She raised the blade high over her bleeding shoulders and brought it down. The first blow put the wyvern out of her misery, but two more were required to part the head from the body.
"Done. Poor devils," panted Freya. She glanced over at their bait, still chained to her tree. "Hey Coran! What's wrong with our princess?"
"Poisoned!" called back Coran, checking Shar-Teel's pulse. He pulled a green and a blue potion from his backpack and poured them both into her lolling mouth. "She'll be ok now. One of the wyverns must have pricked her."
Freya nodded and began to untie Shar-Teel, who slumped heavily onto the floor, sending up a flurry of fallen leaves. With a neutral expression the werewolf picked up the other woman's unbroken pack and began pulling Shar-Teel's things out and shoving her own chains in.
"Ah, that's better," Freya grinned, shifting the pack on her back. She rolled the warrior over and propped her up against the tree, just as Shar-Teel groaned and came around. "I'm taking your sword, seeing as you pledged it to our quest," Freya told her with a wink. "But I'll leave you your gold. I'll have plenty of it this time tomorrow if Coran is to be believed."
Shar-Teel tried to say something in reply, but her voice was so feeble that Freya could not make out the words. She bent down, putting her ear to the poisoned warrior's lips and flicking her blonde hair out of the way to hear her better. Then she let out another of her loud barks of laughter, sending small birds scattering out of the treetops in panic.
"What did she say?" asked Coran curiously.
"She said next time she'll be happy to fight me instead," laughed Freya. "Shar-Teel has dubbed me an honorary man."
Freya's good mood held up on the journey to collect the bounty, despite the increasingly pungent smell emanating from the wyvern's head. Her grey eyes danced with pleasure when the mayor of Beregost handed over her share of the gold.
"Ever had a thousand gold coins?" grinned Coran.
"No, not even a hundred," Freya breathed in awe. She stashed the money into her pack, then looked at him almost regretfully. "Well that was fun but I'm going to need you to bugger off now."
"What?" cried Coran in dismay. "You can't mean that!"
"You're a sound lad," said Freya, clapping him on the arm in a brotherly sort of way. She hitched up her pack and set her sights on the road they had just come from. "Too good to eat. It'll be full moon tomorrow. I need to do my shopping fast and get myself away from civilization. Best of luck Coran."
"The luck is all yours because I'm coming with you!" Coran declared with certainty. Freya started to shake her head, but he interrupted her. "You don't need any extra muscle, I'll give you that, but who is going to pick locks for you? Find traps? You can charm the men, but who will charm the ladies?"
"Well actually…"
"Come on Freya," said Coran earnestly. "I'll even watch your stuff for you at full moon. How's that?"
Freya hesitated. Taking on the iron throne would be a lot easier with the aid of a thief and Coran was right, she was vulnerable chained up alone at full moon. All it would take was another pack of hobgoblins and she'd lose all her bounty and be back to square one.
"Alright," she said. The elf's face broke into a broad smile, but Freya fixed him with a dark expression. "But I'm going to tell you one thing, and if you don't listen to me the consequences are on you."
"Ok…" said Coran slowly.
"People, wyverns, any creatures with a brain, are afraid of werewolves for a reason," said Freya, with unusual seriousness. "Don't come near me at full moon ever. Not if I'm under attack, not if you are and seeking protection. And never forget that the wolf is cunning. She won't attack right away. She'll let you edge closer and sniff your hand and lick you and let you think you're having this beautiful call-of-the-wild bonding moment. Don't fucking trust her! You understand me? As soon as you get within reach of her chains that bitch is going to rip off your face and eat it!"
"I understand," said Coran, and for once he added no jokes or sexual innuendos. Satisfied that he was treating the situation with the gravity that it deserved, she nodded. They set off into town for armour and supplies. As they walked about the town men turned to stare at her, and despite his presence by her side some even tried to make conversation, but she barely seemed to register it. The werewolf refused to stay at an inn that night and they set out from Beregost just as the sun was setting in a blaze of purple and gold.
"So," said Coran, feeling oddly contented. Despite a vague instinct that was telling him that theirs was not destined to be a romantic relationship, he was quite delighted with his new canine companion. "Where to next?"