Jhade spun slowly, watching the cloak ripple around her body, almost more liquid than solid. She let out a long breath and glanced one more time at the scribbled-out map before shoving into one of the cloak's many pockets.
"I really don't know how to thank you, Muirna," Jhade said, trying to force a smile onto her face, despite the knot forming in her stomach. "You don't know how annoying it is, having to put all my armor—not to mention clothes—on after I change back into my regular form. And, thank you. For—for Murdoch. I—" She was stumbling, her cursed tongue not knowing which words to put where.
Muirna chuckled. "Oh, the stories I could tell you about that particularly embarrassing quirk of the druids… As for your brother, no need to thank me. I only wish that I could come with on the adventure, but…" Her gaze drifted up towards the swaying branches of the Grandfather Tree. "I made a promise to this forest, long ago, and I intend to keep it."
"Of course, I—"
An ear-screeching yelp split the forest, a blast of white light, and a wolf—no, a werewolf crashed through the brush, opening its mouth to drop something. After a second's glance up at the two druids, it whimpered and ran.
It was only then that Jhade realized she had jumped into her fighting stance, staff at the ready. She glanced over to see Muirna smirking broadly (She must have been the one that hit it, Jhade thought), before turning her attention to the thing the werewolf had dropped.
Oh, heavens.
"Oh my…" she said. "Odell?"
He looked up at her, his breathing heavy and slightly erratic. His shoulder looked as though it had been dislocated—again—although she couldn't see the full extent of his injuries. His hands were bleeding, his nails broken and his fingers showing evidence of more than a few scratches.
What on earth happened?
"Oh, hey, Jhade," he said, before clearing his throat. "How'd your meeting with the archdruid go?"
Muirna placed her hands on her knees and leaned over Odell, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So much for teleporting them, eh?"
Jhade resisted the urge to roll her eyes and smack them both over the head. This was hardly a lighthearted situation.
Odell's face transformed into a sheepish grin, obviously realizing his mistake. "Sorry. Uh… the archdruid, I presume."
"Mm. You would be correct." She held out a hand for him. "One of Jhade's friends, I presume?"
He nodded back, echoing her "You would be correct," before accepting her hand. With ease that surprised even Jhade, she had him back on his feet, his dislocated shoulder pushed back into place within a matter of seconds.
Odell let out a surprised yelp, his knees crumpling to the forest floor. "Freakin' ahhhh—" He hissed in pain, hand grabbing the joint. "A little warning would have been nice."
"What happened to you?" Jhade said, trying to hold her voice at a normal volume. She glanced over his shoulder, but the werewolf was long gone.
"Werewolves," Odell said, his voice soft as he stood back up for the second time. It was only then that Jhade saw the full extent of his injuries. His neck was covered in blood, his lip split, his once clean sleeves dotted with blood and grime. Jhade bit her lip, her chest tightening. She shouldn't have left them alone, she was their healer.
Healers didn't let their companions get hurt.
At least… not like this.
"I'm okay, really," Odell said. "Just a bit busted up, nothing serious." He gave a short laugh, but it sounded forced. "You never mentioned there were werewolves around here."
"There… there didn't used to be."
As she spoke the words, something inside Jhade tightened, hardened. Werewolves. Werewolves in my hometown.
The fierceness of the thought almost startled her. She's never cared for this place.
Except for the animals, living peacefully out in the woods.
Except for Daniel, the stableboy who was kindness itself. Except for the old shopkeeper who'd laughed and offered Murdoch a job for when he was older (which Murdoch had immediately refused).
Except for them.
"They are just a sampling of some of those that worship Malar. I managed to scare it away just now. Usually they keep away from the town, keep out of the High Forest, but this is much closer than they have been in a long time." Muirna turned to look at Jhade. Her eyes had lost their twinkle. "You must act quickly, my dear. I fear that perhaps this situation is worse than we originally believed."
Jhade bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, refusing to think about what the woman's words were implying. They're getting bolder.
"Where are the others?" It was a question that came automatically, without much thought. Those thoughts were filled with one thing right now: Murdoch.
"They're not too far behind; the fight took a lot out of them."
"…Fight?"
Once again, she struggled to listen, to focus her mind, when so many things were crowding it.
"Yeah. I'm telling you, werewolves are rough. Owen's pretty beat up, but he's alright, nothing too bad. I think Balasar is too, but he was out of magic…juice? I don't really know how that works, but he was out of whatever mojo he has to make things explode."
"How did you get out of there, then?"
"I uh… I went for a ride, I guess?"
Of course, that werewolf had dropped him out of his mouth. She should have known, she would have if her mind would just stop for one second… Poor Odell.
She scrunched her nose. "That… doesn't sound nice."
"No. No, it was not," he said, and she believed him.
"Right. We should get back to them." Get back, go find Murdoch. Simple.
She grabbed River's reins from where she had looped them around a tree branch—small wonder the mare hadn't run off at the sight of the werewolf—and sprang onto the mare's back. "Will you be alright to ride?"
"Should be." He took her hand and heaved himself up behind her. River's ears twitched back, and she stomped a hoof at the extra weight, and Jhade almost smiled.
"Good luck," she heard Erik call, and frowned. How long had he been spying on them…?
She felt Odell jerk behind her. "Jeezums man. How long have you been—?"
Jhade bit back a snort and kicked River with more force than necessary, causing the mare to kick up her heels with a snort, before bursting into a quick canter.
She didn't like the way Murdoch's face had flickered.
"Are you okay?" Odell asked, his voice quiet.
Someone laughed, a dry sound, bitterness tinging the edges.
"Am I okay? Am… am I…" That rough leather in her hands. Dry, cracked, in need of a good oiling. "Honestly I don't know. We think… we think Murdoch was k—" Forcing the words out, making them real "—kidnapped. He's—he's probably still there, at some cultist's place, I'll be able to show you—"
Stop. That was assuming he'd come along. She couldn't assume.
She swallowed, feeling the last of her stubbornness and pride go down in that gulp. Murdoch was more important than those things.
"I…" She let out a long, shaky breath. "I won't ask you to—"
Please.
"You don't have to." Pressure on her shoulder, a gentle squeeze. "If you want me to be, I'll be there."
Warmth bloomed in her chest, lifting her chin, just as her shoulders relaxed under his touch.
"Thank you, Odell."
"Always, Jhade."
Jhade leaned low over River's neck and squeezed her legs against the mare's sides, even though the mare was already going at quite a brisk canter. Wind whistled in her ears, her pounding heart keeping time with the mare's pounding hoofbeats.
"Any time you'd like to inform us as to why, exactly, we're going to this group of cultists, that would be wonderful," Balasar called out from his place at the rear of the party. To be fair, his mount, Bolt, was trying his best.
Jhade glanced back just in time to see Odell shoot him a look before downing another healing potion. Since they had those in excess, they decided to use them to repair the worst of their injuries and set out right away.
"You mean, besides getting back at them for setting werewolves on you?" Jhade called back.
Balasar urged the large black stallion forward, so that he was nearly next to Jhade. "You've been acting strange lately," he said, frank as ever. "You're distracted. And I want to know why."
"I'm not distracted." Yes, you are.
"You're the only one is this party who's any good at healing spells," the dragonborn continued, his face as calm and undisturbed as ever. "It is imperative to this party that you stay focused. So—" He cleared his throat. "You may as well tell us what's bothering you."
Was that… concern in his voice?
Balasar, the one who loved nothing more than to cause the occasional dismembered limb, explosions and general mayhem… was concerned?
She glanced down, rubbing the reins back and forth between her thumb and fingers. "While I was gone… I found out these cultists… they're holding someone captive," she said, glancing back to make sure Owen heard as well. Don't think about who, don't break down, please. "Someone… from my town. Someone close to me."
"Do you know why?" Owen asked.
Jhade shook her head. "No. No I don't."
The air hung with the smell of ash. A fine layer of the stuff coated everything, from the ground, where a few blades of grass were struggling to push their way up, to the blackened sticks that had once been trees.
Directly in front of them lay a large stone temple, the jagged edges reaching up to scrape against the clouds of ash that hung in the air. From what Jhade could see, ivy had once tried to ramble up the side, but like everything else, it was burned black.
Her entire body was trembling, her very soul quivering inside her chest. If this was what they did to their land… what had they done to her brother?
River let out a piercing neigh, jerking Jhade back into the real world as the mare reared under her.
Two stone creatures, shaped somewhat like lions were crouched in front of the small group, snarls rippling from their gray throats as their crumbling tails, brushed with lichen, lashed back and forth.
Jhade flung out her hand, her mouth opening to say the thornwhip spell. Before she could speak, A blast of fire collided with the stone monster. Bits of stone crashed down onto the gray-speckled ground. For a second, Jhade blinked, unsure of what had just happened. Then she glanced back and caught a glimpse of Balasar's grin.
A howl to her right. She jerked her head towards it just in time to see Shatterspike collide with the other monster's head, cleaving it from its body. Odell let out a short huff, reaching up with his free hand to rub his shoulder. "Didn't think that'd actually work."
She glanced at him, then back at the bits of rubble. Distracted. Unable to focus on the danger at hand since she was so focused on the danger her brother might be in.
But then she caught Odell's quick glance towards her, that split second check he did to make sure she was alright. Then Owen's soft, reassuring smile, Balasar straightening his hat before dismounting and sweeping aside the rubble with one booted foot.
"You don't have to carry this burden alone."
And something eased inside of her.
They left the horses outside the temple. A bit unfair to the horses that had served them so well over the past few months, but there was no use bringing them inside and causing even more noise. They decided that the best way to do things would be like they usually did them, try to stay out of sight and gather information, fighting if necessary.
Odell took up the lead like usual, Balasar in the back, and Owen slipping along like a shadow somewhere in the middle. Jhade trailed behind Odell, a little slower, a little farther behind than usual.
She stepped carefully from one pool of light to the next, feeling the air warm, then cool as she passed by each torch. Odell kept glancing back at her. Light flickered off Shatterspike's blade as it swayed back and forth gently in time with his footsteps.
It felt like a lifetime ago that he'd gotten that sword. Back on their first adventure together. Back when they'd met up in that hole of a bar, when she was just a lonely druid apprentice looking for cheap ale to lift her spirits for a bit.
A low muttering slipped into Jhade's ears and she tensed. Ahead of her she saw Odell raise his sword.
"Oh, great Malar, god of werewolves and provider of the most precious prey that we hunt…" The speaker droned on, sounding completely uninterested in what he was saying.
Jhade felt her jaw clench. She strode forward, pushing past Odell and rounding the corner. A short, pudgy man sat in front of some sort of alter surrounded by candles, continuing to mutter.
Within second, Jhade had her scimitar resting against his neck. She much preferred magic attacks over physical weapons, but right now she was in the mood for holding someone at swordpoint. "Get up."
"Oh my!" the man squeaked, whirling to face them, his robes crinkling at the movement. "Visitors!"
Jhade blinked. The man hadn't been kneeling down. He was a gnome, a gnome wearing robes that were much, much too long for him. It was enough to throw her off for half a second, and by that time the small gnome had pushed her blade aside and threw out his hands as if to embrace her.
She stepped back so that she was standing next to Odell. The blacksmith was gripping Shatterspike with both hands, his eyes narrowed.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice low.
"My name is Aston Gimble Rasdon Fellen Nesni Yospos Manarb. But I suppose you can just call me Aston. Now," he said, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. "I can't tell you how pleased I am that we've got guests! I don't know how long it's been, I'll have to give you the full tour—"
Jhade jerked her scimitar back up. "Stop." She said. "Stop blabbering and tell me where I can find Murdoch the half-elf."
"Murdoch?" For a second the gnome's face scrunched. "You couldn't possibly mean Murdoch Galanodel?"
She didn't answer.
Galanodel.
She didn't need to turn around to know Owen and Balasar were putting together the pieces.
The gnome cocked his head, his mouth sliding into a werewolf's grin. "Oh hoh, so you've heard of our young… what do they call him? Ah yes, our 'magnate.' He's a bit busy at the moment, but I certainly will be able to take you to him." His grin widened. "We do love when visitors come."
Why were they fighting?
They should have beaten this man long ago. If that's what he was. But, the stupid idiot… he kept dodging their attacks.
(Aston had left them here with a wink, letting them know he'd be back. Mere seconds later a man appeared in his place, more giant than human. But still human. Still easily beatable. Or so she'd thought.)
Jhade let out a yelp and jumped back, feeling the man's knife skim across her fur, ruffling the hairs. A long knife, halfway between dagger and sword, double-edged.
She'd shifted into her dire wolf form. She'd be faster this way. (Because this way she didn't have to try and explain why she'd followed Aston, she should have known better than to follow him anywhere.)
Because she now had her druid's cloak and didn't have to worry about loosing her clothes or equipment when she transformed. (Because she wanted to save at least one healing spell for when they found her brother—when things—if things went wrong. They were going pretty wrong already.)
Because she didn't like the sight of red blood staining her already mud-splattered sleeve—a lucky slash on her arm that she should have dodged.
(Because wanted to feel her teeth sink into this man's flesh—)
(The very man who had taken her brother.)
She let out another snarl, the sound bouncing around the small tunnel, lit by out by the flames of the flames of Balasar's failed magic attacks. She lunged at the huge man, but he twisted out of the way and her teeth closed over empty air. There was a glimpse of a smile pushing up his long, tangled beard, then he swung the knife at Owen, who was struggling to get up, blood dripping from the back of his leg.
Owen, move! she screamed, but all that came out was a high-pitched yelp. The thief jerked his own dagger up, just in time to parry. Odell took the opportunity to rush forward, swinging Shatterspike…
It all happened so fast.
A sickening sound, a crunch, a squelch.
The man had turned away, but not quick enough. His beefy arm was raised. Shatterspike had cracked clean through his leather arm guard.
His knife was buried up to the hilt in Odell's side.
"Dad!"
The word ripped out, a strangled howl. She dug her claws in and lunged forward. Her body slammed into the man's and they tumbled to the ground, paws pinning his shoulders to the ground, letting her claws sliding out.
Then his widened eyes crinkled.
"Jhade," he said in that bass voice that she now remembered. "So nice of you to come back. You really have turned into an excellent hunter."
She snarled, about to—
Then the pain exploded in her right side. It felt like her lung had erupted into fire, the pain flooding down her side.
Silence.
The world had whited out.
And everything was silent.