Welcome to chapter two for this story. Sorry it took so long.
As usual, DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for original characters
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The worgen had come over the wall and through the forest much more quickly than most had even become to realise. They had turned on their masters, their feral nature too large and too wild for one man to have controlled alone. Bastiaan's face soured at the thought. They should have known better than to mess with forces they hardly understood. They could be heard through the silver-barks of the forest in the north, their growls and howls chilling him to the bone. With his son on the ground trying to hold his wound together, Bastiaan knew he had a decision to make as to what was to be done. He was absolutely terrified but he was there for Thorsten. He had to be, the boy was his only son and heir. With all the evil in the world, family was the sole thing that kept hope alive and that was important to any parent.
He took precious seconds to eye the landscape for worgen too close for comfort before he helped Thorsten to quickly wrap the shoulder with Bastiaan's over-shirt. The journey back to their house was a long one, their fields were by no means small. The cattle and horses brayed loudly in their paddocks and were nigh on threatening to stampede. There was a hunger that lay heavy in the air and both Gilnean's could not fault their livestock for being scared. They were too. They weren't soldiers, paladins or any sort of knights. They both might be able to handle a gun or a bow but they weren't trained for any sort of real combat. Bastiaan held Thorsten up as they headed back, their step frustrated with a want for haste hampered by Thorsten's wound and subsequent blood loss.
"Y-you should leave me, Pa..." Thorsten breathed out, wincing heavily as they moved.
"Never, my son!" Bastiaan replied and readjusted his grip as they continued on down the hill towards their homestead. Bastiaan Buckmane was not the type of man who left a man behind, much less that of his own kin and blood.
Bastiaan would readily sacrifice his own life for that of Thorsten's even though he knew that Thorsten could eventually succumb to what fate the worgen's bite would present. The bite itself hadn't looked normal... and the rumours that had flung around the local town had not made him feel any more confident. Had the creature not knocked Thorsten down so hard, he knew the lad could probably have gotten back by under his own weight. As it was, that was not a possibility. Any time the boy tried to get his own footing, he almost collapsed if not for his father's help.
Thorsten had been bitten many times in the past and he had known he was like to many times over again in his future. It was a natural hazard of his occupation. He had been bitten by horse and dog, it didn't stop him from being able to help them in return. Those had been painful but not like this. The bite felt more like a snake's bite than that of the canine-like creature that had driven its jaws into him. It was painful and was there was a dull ache that sank and plagued into his muscles and bones that he had not felt in the initial bite.
Father and son continued on down the pastures with the Worgen on their backs in the forests behind. Their treads were quick, heavy and ungainly as they pressed on, a father's stubbornness and will to ensure the life of his son forefront on his mind.
"Kayla! Light... Kayla!" Bastiaan's yell carried easily towards their homestead and sure enough, a woman's head poked out of the doorway. Her face was first that of confusion before the howls that broke the silence of the still air gave her the reason she was searching for and her expression was quick to change to fright and concern.
Her hands went to her mouth when she saw her son and the blood that ran down the front of his tunic. As soon as they got close, she helped bring Thorsten inside and shut the door, bolting it. Percival whined from his place at the bottom of the stairs as their one and only son was taken to the living room. Kayla rushed about the house grabbing all the bandages, cloths and water she had quick access to. Bastiaan had pushed everything off the dining room table before helping his son to lie on it, telling the boy to shut up and do as he was told when Thorsten protested amidst his pains.
As Bastiaan sought to fortify the windows against the invasion, Kayla busied herself with dealing with her son's wound. She pushed Thorsten's head down several times when he tried to resist as she removed the bloodied shirt. She tried to not look at the wound too much but the wound was big and was changing from the natural tan to something far more disturbing. She worked on the dressage quickly and looked at her husband. Neither of them knew if Thorsten would make it but they both had to hope that he would.
They both jumped and stared as the door banged against its hinges, almost being flung right away from the frame but the numerous bolts that Bastiaan had locked held against the weight. Both blinked before Kayla looked back down to Thorsten and tried to hurry in what she was doing as Bastiaan continued to bolster what he could of their modest abode.
It was needed too as Kayla struggled to hold back the tide of blood that escaped the wound made by the feral worgen that had attacked her only boy. A cry by a bedroom door made Bastiaan turn to console Thorsten's younger sister of four years, Beryl. It was a little while longer before Kayla managed to stem the bleeding and make a dressing for the wound in such a way the joint could still be used with some difficulty without losing more blood in the process.
"We need to get out of here!"
"The trap door. Quickly! Beryl!"
The little girl blinked, her little hand clutched her little roughly-treated teddy tightly as she nodded fearfully. Her eyes were tearing up as she went to tug and pull at the rug that kept the trapdoor hidden from sight. It was there in times of such need. Bastiaan never believed in not preparing for the worst, but the worst he had expected was nowhere as close to what they might face now. She cried with the effort of lifting the trap door as Bastiaan retrieved his rifle and moved to Thorsten. Kayla helped him to get Thorsten to sitting position, drawing his legs over the side but when they tried to get him to stand, he placed his hand around his father's wrist with a strength that made his father wince.
"Leave me..."
"Son, no," Kayla shook her head and pulled him on but he refused.
"No ma... I'm bit... If they can't stop them then every minute you waste here is going to be more dangerous. Just, go! While you still can,"
Thorsten was moved by their need to try and get him out, to save him but whatever this bite was doing to him, he knew it couldn't be good. It was becoming far more painful by the minute and his muscles felt is if they were on fire that doubled tenfold at every movement. The flesh wound felt tight and hot, as if he was being stabbed by a hot poker than the true nature of it all. It was nothing like anything he had known before. He tried to fight it but this wasn't some fox he could chase off or a belligerent bull, this was something entirely foreign to him. Something from which he could not escape. Light, I did not know a bite could feel this bad...
Thorsten winced as his father raised his hand in a sharp movement, the palm catching the back of his raven-haired skull with some clout. His father rarely raised a hand to anyone except when in dire need or when drunk, which was an occasion very rare and few between. He reached to rub the spot where he'd been struck and looked to his father who gave him that stern look that brooked no further argument on the matter. If they said they were taking Thorsten down past the trapdoor with them, than he knew that's precisely what he was to do. He supposed they couldn't stomach the sound of a bunch of feral worgen ripping their only son apart and he couldn't blame them. He knew he'd be the same if it had happened to his parents or his little sister.
Still, he was forced to accept his father's aid as the bite mark flared again; the howls, scratching and slams of the doorway hastening their way to the trapdoor. He watched his mother descend bringing Beryl with her. The girl hid behind her mother as husband and wife somehow between them negotiated Thorsten down the small rings of a worn ladder. Bastiaan paused only to turn and reach up to haul the trapdoor close. None of them, except for little Beryl who was too young to understand the danger completely, were naïve to believe it would stop the worgen altogether but they prayed it would give them enough time to reach the end of the tunnel and get out.
With each step as it had been on the fields it grew harder on Thorsten to continue and he was glad that his mother and sister were a little way ahead of him and his father. The pain wracked through his body like wildfire and Bastiaan wished he could help his boy. However this was a magic far beyond his understanding, beyond anyone's understanding. He was painfully aware that he was losing quite a lot from his life and set to only lose more if the fates were against them. He hoped not. Family was everything, as long as his family unit was complete, that was all that matter.
The tunnel was dark, damp with grim and water that had trickled through the earth and rock over time, it was an old tunnel and not the only one in the city. There were a fair few that had been made for times such as these. Bastiaan frowned, they would have to go closer towards Gilneas' capital before they could branch off towards the sea. Any chances of escape through the Wall were surely cut off by now he thought as he carried his son's weight against him. They moved slowly, the howls of frustrated feral beasts echoed down from the trapdoor. Beryl cried out in fright clutching her teddy closer to her as they hurried along as quickly as they could, her mother herding her before the two men.
"Nearly there…" Bastiaan murmured, daring to not speak any louder should the beasts behind them hear and hurry their pace. Before long they reached the end of the tunnel. They had to get out of the tunnel to head for the next one heading out of the city towards the city which was a little walk away. Bastiaan and Thorsten waited with baited breath as Kayla carefully checked to see if the coast was clear, lifting the trapdoor with a low creak in the hinges. She waited nervously and then nodded, opening it fully and quickly getting out before turning round to lean down and lift her daughter up free of the tunnel. Bastian followed soon after and both parents had to help Thorsten out of the tunnel. He sat breathing deeply as they shut the trapdoor and barricaded it the best they could with what they had around them
He swallowed hard as he looked about the city, a place he only really come to on market days, and Thorsten shook his head. The city was awash with screams and howls, the sound of cannons and an army trying to defend against a rabid enemy was thick in the air. Beryl squeaked and threw herself in her brother's arms sobbing into his chest. He looked at her and brushed her hair back, he hoped that despite whatever happened to him that she would make it out alive as he wrapped his own around her return. He knew he could stay with them for much longer. He was a danger to their safety and he didn't know entirely what this bite was doing to him. There was so much uncertainty it made his head spin just trying to think about it.
"Don't cry, little sister. You've got to be strong, for Ma and Pa," he breathed, holding her close because he didn't know when he would get the chance ever again. Bastiaan's rule on family had passed into him and he was loathe to let her go, to let any of them go even though he knew he may have no choice but to. He held his eyes shut briefly as the wound flared again and he felt a little hand on his face causing him to reopen his eyes. Beryl nodded at him and kissed his nose in that way that said she could make everything better. He smiled and nodded back, proud she had such a strong little heart and mind. stronger than him some days.
"You gonna be okay! You gotta!" she nodded with a new-found insistence, even as their mother coaxed her away from Thorsten's arms.
"Up you get, son. This isn't over yet," his father intoned, lifting his only son to his feet upon legs that felt as though they were lead.
Thorsten had no doubts it wasn't over yet. from the way this bite felt, it had only just begun.
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