A/N: This takes place in an AU version of Eberron that has no alignment or resurrection spells and effects.


Blood stained the oak floors of what had once been the Wayside Temple of Dol Dorn. The wooden altar lay cracked in two, snapped in half by supernatural strength. Freshly dead acolytes were strewn around the room, crimson fluid seeping from their motionless bodies.

Crouching next to one of the bodies was something inhuman.

The creature was some tall, misshapen hybrid of man and wolf. Save for a pair of pants stretched far too wide, he was nude. Blood stained his claws and black fur as he searched the corpse's robes. He let out a grunt of frustration and then reared up, sniffing the air.

"It's not here," he said. His voice was low, guttural. Animal.

Behind the ruins of what had once been a pew, two figures crouched. The taller of the two, a shifter woman, clenched her fists and took a tentative step forward – only to be stopped by the other, a dwarf of about forty years.

"What are you doing?" the shifter said. "I am the only one who can stop him!"

"Anya," the dwarf said, shoving something to her stomach, "securing the Scripture takes priority. You need to leave now."

Suddenly, the werewolf spoke. "I can smell you two. Come out or I'll rip you to shreds." It was a wry joke on the werewolf's part, of course – if they came out, they'd be ripped to shreds anyway.

Anya's face paled. "I must fight him, Oskar. They must be avenged."

Oskar turned to Anya. In the moonlight's pale glow, she could see tears streaming down his face and beard. "If you let him take the Scripture, they will have died here for nothing," he said, his teeth clenched.

Anya boiled with rage for a moment, but then closed her eyes and sighed. She took what the man had shoved to her stomach and ran. The werewolf had barely begun to start after her when Oskar jumped in the way. In his left hand, the dwarf held up a scroll of paper.

"Creature! I challenge you to a duel!" Oskar took out his axe and pointed it at the werewolf. "You'll get this Scripture when I've gone to Dolurrh, monster!"

The werewolf seemed to grin in the moonlight, baring his fangs and claws. "Terms accepted."

Outside, Anya had barely mounted the horse when she heard the screaming begin. She bit back tears, then took the reins and galloped away.

The werewolf wiped his claws of Oskar's blood and picked up the scroll. Blood stained the paper as he opened it – as he watched blood splatter onto the symbol inscribed within, his teeth bared into a snarl.

He shredded the parchment to bits. "A fake. Smart."

By the time the beast had stepped out, Anya had already disappeared into the night. It did not matter. The Eldeen Reaches were vast, but he'd tracked onto her scent, and the nearest town was not a great distance away...