Author's Note: Skipping the context, getting to the fight. The first rounds are much longer than actual battle ones. I just wanted to use them as a point of reference.

Characters: Chris the abomination, male priest (vestal), Ebony, antiquarian, crone, hateful virago.

Antiquarian skills in this: Nervous Stab, Get Down!, Flash Powder, and Fortifying Vapours.

Priest/ vestal skills: Divine Comfort, Illumination, Hand of Light

Round One:

Priest: He was already fumbling to get the key even as he briskly walked to the back entrance of the chapel; not wanting to trip or stumble over and waste precious time that way. He had no idea who would possibly want to break into the building like this, there was nothing of value kept inside other than tomes and a precious few holy relics gathered by the adventurers and mercenaries throughout the months, and it was even open to all who wished to come in everyday up until the time he left during the evenings. The only thing that came to his mind was one of the monsters searching for easy prey, and even then the farmlands were a better choice.

Chris: He overtook the priest and, loosening the chains around himself, coiled the slack around his arm, preparing them to be thrown at a moment's notice or to simply act as armor against an attack. Alone, he did not cast a very intimidating presence, but most did not know what he truly was. He was no mere human, the scars all over his body and brand on his face told as much, and the eldritch mutation within his veins had another benefit than simply making him stronger and sturdier than most.

Round Two:

Antiquarian: She heard footsteps and the rattling of chains from beyond the wall and moving toward the door she had blocked with a chair, and quickly turned to inform her mistresses. "They come! Hide yourselves!" She whispered before turning her head toward the noise once more. The elder of the two sighed, hissing as it did, and pointed to the other, smaller one. After a brief exchange of only a handful of words, all in a strange tongue and some she wished she did not know, the two entered the adjacent room where what they had come for was and shut the door, but not before leaving their watch with a means to defend herself: a dagger and a mysterious censer of fumes and vapors.

Priest: He moved to unlock the door, but stopped before he touched the knob. The padlock he always used was missing. He stepped away from the door, gestured to it, and took a deep breath before he spoke. "I know your secret, and I will back you up. God watch over us." He said, adding a small prayer under his breath, and took hold of a gilded cross of wood from his waist.

Chris: He stepped toward the door and turned the knob, but the door was stuck closed from the other side. He turned his head to the priest, who gave a single nod, and then used his chain-armored arm to bash the door open with his elbow. It took him a few strikes before could get to the chair that was blocking the door, and then bashed it in half before pushing it in. He held his free hand out, gesturing for the priest to stay back, and scanned the room for anyone.

Round Three:

Crone: There was plenty of fuel for the fire, as well as reagents to use, but it was up to the Virago to direct her in the ritual of transformation and growth. These people were a disease upon the land, cutting down the trees and exhausting the natural resources. They called the Coven of Witches and Daughters of the Hidden Moon cultists, corruptors of the forest and its groves, but they were more like druids, seeking to return the rule of the estate to nature. First, personally, it was time for the crone to move up in the ranks, and become like her elder sister and mistress.

Virago: Such a troubling week... First, the youngest daughter of the Great Mother is killed by a group of thugs, and then her supplies, most importantly the mother's cauldron, are taken from the forest and into the this 'civilized' domain. The precious few pots they had made, enchanted by the Mother's own hand, and losing even one meant their progress of nature's restoration would greatly slow. To say nothing of the materials and time taken to craft the pots, the reagents to enchant them took months to gather and prepare.

Secondly, a new servant of another great one had come, and she had the gawk to call the estate her territory. Should this servant of the Hungerer enter the Weald again, it would be the final trespass she made. Perhaps the brigand leader could deal with her and the rest of the town, but those brutes were driven by their own greed and generally unwilling to work with the cult unless there was something in it for them...

Antiquarian: She had to buy her mistresses time for the elder one to change the younger if she wanted to continue her own research into power of this land and the knowledge within. The cult, the coven really, was a means to that end. For what she wanted, she would do anything, even if she had to bloody her own hands.

The door was struck, an arm plunging through the thin wooden door, and she hid within the confession booth; waiting to ambush. As she waited, she examined the dagger, more of a knife really, and the contents of the censer; some crushed charcoal and ground herbs with a few embers inside. These did not contain the same powders and spores of the Weald, a good thing in her mind as she did not want to become like those creatures, but she knew how to use the vapors and fumes produced by burning specific herbs. In her hands, these were decent enough tools.

Chris: Once inside and after looking around, he did not see anything that drew his attention immediately, and he was not sure what was changed, if anything was. Other than the door being blocked, all seemed normal enough. The pews and benches were all in order as far as he could tell, so he turned his head to the priest, hoping he might see something different.

Priest: He stepped inside after the abomination and took in the surroundings. There was only one thing out of place, and he pointed it out. "That door; it was open when I left. It is were I keep relics for purification and cleansing rituals." He informed, and then stepped past Chris only to be stopped and gently pushed back toward the door. He was confused for a moment, but then nodded his understanding. "I am sorry. You go ahead, and I will provide support as best as I can."

Round Four:

Crone: After a moment of thoughtful recollection, she was ready for the pot's embrace. Carefully, she climbed into the partially filled pot of oats and water. She wore only her cloak and carried a small dulled knife and a doll, made from materials inside the room, in her hands. Around the cauldron, piled for kindling, were broken pieces of wood, shredded clothes, and torn pages; not perfect for their ritual, but they would do. She sat within the iron confines and did not move even as a lid was placed over the top and latched shut above her.

Virago: A small curse escaped her lips when she heard the clack of the latch, it's sudden, deep sound echoing in the silence, and she made haste to start the fire beneath the pot. As the kindling took flame and began burn, she began to recant and chant the words and invocation of the ritual.

From death comes life.

Four simple words that meant defined their beliefs. It was only in death that life could be reborn, and only those who embrace the truth of that grim fate may be allowed to keep their minds while the rest are given to Nature after their rebirth. This younger had seen the truth years ago, and their watch would take the younger's place in rank if this ritual went undisturbed and completed.

Antiquarian: She consider her options and chose her safest option: a satchel of flashing powder and took a deep breath. She was no fighter, she was a researcher, and it was impossible for her to completely stop her uneasy shaking, let alone hold a weapon in a fight. Still, for her research, she would do anything to further her goals. Grasping at the small pouch within the larger pack at her hip, she moved from her hiding spot, quickly identified the larger threat, the one with the chains, and hurled the pouch at the man's head.

Chris: Something struck him in the head, spreading a fog of dust around him before it began to flash like light reflecting off the surfaces of a million tiny mirrors. The effect was blinding, painful at first, and forced him to close his eyes as he tried to find his bearing once more. He stumbled, taking careful steps, before he began feeling around for something to hold onto as he rubbed his eyes.

Priest: Shocked by the sudden attack but unaffected by it otherwise, the priest turned toward the direction the thing had come from to see a cloaked figure near the confession booth. "You there!" He called as he held up his cross in one hand and made a gesture with the other. "Illumination!" He spoke, loudly and clearly, and a flash of light flared into existence near the booth.

He was past his prime, his heart already beating fiercely in his chest, and he had to remind himself to stay calm.

Round Five:

Crone: The air grew thin and barely breathable, but she continued with her part of the ritual. She used her dagger to cut hair from her hair, strips of flesh and meat from her legs, and the soles from her feet. With this material, the hair was tied to the doll and used to hold the other pieces of her body to it, the soles of her feet cut into halves and wrapped around the dolls arms and legs, and the meat stuffed into the doll's belly, and the flesh wrapped around the doll's torso to seal it.

It was bloody work, painful had she not already been wrapped in a trance, and her hands were slick with her own blood and sweat. Her cloak, now sticky with stains of crimson and growing mold, served only as a rag to wipe her hands on... but she could already feel it becoming a part of her back as fungus roots dug into her skin.

The final part of the ritual required the swallowing, no chewing, of the doll. As she worked it down her throat through careful muscle movements, she pulled her cloak closed around her form, like freezing child would a blanket, and waited for her new life to come from her old one's death.

Virago: They were loud, but at least they did not interrupt the incantations. Soon, she and the coven would have a new sister to aid in the reclaiming of the land, the killing of the corruptors and foresters, and the nurturing of the life that will grow from their fresh corpses.

The one thing of concern was that that servant of the Hungerer. She knew they were here; she could feel the eyes of that one on her. If she was not reacting now, perhaps that meant the servant was too busy to stop them. In which case, it would be possible to have a little fun of her own.

Antiquarian: She screamed and retreated back into the booth when the light burst into existence. She had been expecting an attack of some kind from range, a crossbow bolt or an arrow or a blade, but not a sudden light. Her eyes teared up and she had to collect herself, crouching and hiding within the thinly wooden structure. She held her censer in one hand as the other moved to the dagger, making herself a more difficult target.

Chris: The initial surprise gone, he let out a roar, beastly in nature and furious in tone, as he let the eldritch blood in his veins flow freely; changing and altering his form until he stood a head taller than before, his arms and shoulders nearly twice as thick and broad as before, and his hands morphed into claws; the left one much larger than the right to the extent that the chains broke off of them. Such a sight, a man turning into a beast, was not without notice and, needless to say, unnerving to the priest who gasped and stumbled over himself as he took a step back; even turning his cross to the abomination.

He turned his angry eyes turned toward the confession booth, and then he charged toward it, head down and horns out, and ran straight through it, smashing the wood apart and just missing the woman hiding within. Had she not ducked low, he would have impaled her.

Priest: He knew Chris was not a normal man, that tainted blood flowed through him, but he did not know such blood made him into a demonic beast. He took a deep breath, attempting to regain and strengthen his nerves... but he failed to do so.

His courage broke at the sight of the unholy creature his companion had turned into, and his mind told him that whatever had hit him must have sped the mutation along. "God help us! God help us all!" He shouted as he ran recklessly out the door from fear.

With labored, panicked breathing, he found the strengthen and reflex to run away from the fight.

Round Six:

Crone: She lost consciousness and ran out of breathable air, but her posture remained as she sat up, hands in her laps, doll resting in her stomach, and the final stages of the ritual beginning. The air within the cauldron fed the now festering rot that grew on her body and in her lungs. The fungus began to sprout and grow from all over her skin and flesh, the mushrooms growing and producing spores on exposed and covered skin to further the spread.

She did not die, at least not all at once. It was more precise to say that as her body died it came alive again in a different form.

Virago: She put her head near the cauldron, not enough to touch it but enough to just tell that its inhabitant had succumbed to the heat and began to fester and become like herself. There was no need for her to remain any longer, and so she turned her attention to the noise that had been so irritating her.

She opened the door, and stepped outside, never looking away from the scene before her. The imposing creature, the wrecked hiding spot of their watch, the old man running away and out the door, and the the researcher woman holding her censer in one hand and reaching for her dropped dagger with the other.

It was a pathetic sight, but not the first time she had seen it. After all, the researcher, hers and her younger's watch, was not yet indoctrinated into the coven.

Antiquarian: Her eyes were wild with fear as a sudden beast, like a goat on two legs, tore through the wooden booth with ease, just missing her as its bulky, muscular legs carried its much larger torso and deadly arms inches from her. The horns, from what she could see in the moment, were like spears or lances. She did not know where that man with the chains had gone, but she was too terrified to look as she fled her ruined hiding spot.

Swiftly, acting without thinking, she made a mad crawl toward the door in time to see it open and the Virago exit the room. Her eyes went wide and she smiled with joy as she crawled to her feet and ran toward her mistress; seeking safety within the stronger female's presence.

Chris: He let out another roar, letting the eldritch rage wash over him, and turned his attention to his prey as it scurried away. He breathed heavily as he stomped his now hooved feet into the wooden floor, much like a bull preparing to charge, and his eyes locked first on the figure crawling away and then to the one, new and larger, at the door the priest had pointed out.

In his feral, maddened mind, he identified the one on the floor as weak, and so he turned his head and lowered it, horns out and left hand to the ground, and charged toward the taller one. His claw dug into the wood, tearing planks from it, and furthered increased his momentum.

He wanted- NO! He needed its blood to soak his fangs and claw-like hand! There was no stopping him, and, when he hit, his claw would rake against flesh.

Round Seven:

Virago: She did not care about the weaker female's cowardliness, and so she did not stop moving forward even as the other one fled behind her. She took a deep breath, and then released a gas of noxious, poisonous breath toward the demonic creature. Care had to be taken to avoid attracting the immediate attention of the servant of the domain, it did promise to protect its patrons after all, and she had to first find out if this was one of those patrons.

However, she had no time for patience for a beast out for blood. Poison was, after all, deadly only if left untreated for an extended period, and the wounds she'd take from this creature were insignificant at best.

Antiquarian: She took another pouch of her flashing powder, her last one before she had to make more, and tossed it at the charging demon. Her aim was off, not striking it in the head, but she did hit the area just in front of it. The powder flashed on impact, creating a small bang as well that deafened it, but otherwise did nothing to harm; except perhaps making it angry.

Chris: The powder and vapors stung and clouded his eyes, making it nearly impossible for him to see his prey at the end of his charge, but, by a lucky twist of fate, he felt himself run into something as he swung his left claw, but then he lost his footing and came crashing through the door and into the other room.

He tumbled into something hard and warm, but otherwise he was not hurt enough to prevent him from fighting.

START EDDITING HERE!

Round Eight:

Virago: She dodged out of the way of the beast, but then shrieked in rage when she saw it had burst into the room the younger was in. Their ritual, she knew, had been interrupted, and it would need to be done again with a new source of blood!

So full of anger, she drew her dagger with a flick of her wrist and pulled the straw doll from the belt at her waist. Her eyes locked on the creature of her discontent, and, slowly, she drew the tip of the dagger across the doll from its right shoulder to its left thigh.

Antiquarian: She shrieked in shock as the chained beast charged toward her again; while not actually trying to hit her, being even remotely in its way was scary enough for her. She took a breath after it passed, and then turned to look where he had stopped only to become immediately frightened by what it had hit... she knew the implications of what this meant even without the the angry cry.

Chris: He blinked his eyes, trying to cleanse them, before he felt a cutting pain across his front. It felt like a blade, but, when he swept his claw, there was nothing there and it continued to rake from his shoulder down to his thigh. He roared and kept swiping blindly with his left claw while using his right to feel his way around the wall toward the door.

He had to recollect himself to set his mind right, find out where the priest went, and clear his eyes of whatever was in them.

She blinked her eyes when she saw someone running from the chapel, and slowed a little but did not stop. The person, an elderly man she recognized as the priest, noticed her as well, but, seeing her as she was without the her clothing, altered his course to avoid her...

But she did not want this intersection to be through looks alone.

She sped up again, running toward the priest, and, being faster than him, was able to run over, trip him, and catch him before he hit the ground; face first but saved by being grabbed by his collar.

She turned him around, jumping over him and twirling in the air, so his back was to the ground and she was on his other side. She then pulled him closer to her face, and her yellow and black eyes locked onto his before she spoke only a few words. "Get the nurse." She said, and then helped him back up onto his feet and resumed her dash toward the chapel.

The priest took a breath, shocked at first, but then calmed himself as he watched the creature run away at a remarkable pace. He was sure she had a large mouth along her body, nearly splitting her in half, but he was unable to tell for sure in his panic and the little time he had to see her.

She stopped suddenly, and he just had this feeling that she had turned her head to look at him... and he heard those words once more; only in his mind.

"Get. The. Nurse."

And then he started fleeing toward the medical building.

Ebony ran toward the nearest door she sensed her patron, grabbed onto the door knob with one hand, put her other hand and both feet onto the door, and tore the knob from the frame in one motion.

She landed on the ground with a thud but quickly rose again, pushed the door open, and gripped the door with one hand and the frame with the other as she stared at the scene before her...

Her body was not a normal body, but the mouth of her one true master, The Hungerer. At the moment, her breasts appeared more like eyes, the skin peeled back and white and black iris locking onto her targets, and her larger mouth, from her crotch to her breasts and continuing to her back, opened slightly, drooling saliva onto the ground and a tongue sticking out to wet her dry lips.

She was hungry, her Hungerer was hungry, and all she was the wild livestock fit for slaughter.

Round Nine:

Ebony start: She grinned widely as both pairs of her eyes locked on the virago, taking note of its body shape and the abnormalities growing from its back. The fungus, for one, caught her eye and her imagination while the slim and lithe arms and waist looked ripe for stuffing and seasoning.

With her mind made up, she dashed forward, past the beast-form abomination, over the tipped cauldron, and under the virago before leaping up from behind it and grabbing onto the virago's mushroom skin with her hands and locking the finger-like toes of her feet on its shoulders... and then began to rip the flesh and skin.

Virago: She ceased her attack on the abomination and instead turned her dagger to stab at the servant on her back and shoulders as it tried to to tear her skin creature's strength was greater than it appeared and she could feel her skin peeling like one would pull a scab off, stretching painfully over her form until she could feel it separating from the rest of her body and blood beginning to bleed.

She stabbed the smaller creature in the foot, and immediately regretted it as the creature's blood, a vile and hateful substance, burned and fester where it touched her. Before she could truly react, the other foot released its grip on her shoulder to grab at her wrist as the injured foot tightened its grip, pricking the toes into the skin, and twisted the dagger from the hand.

Ebony: She twisted the dagger free from its owner's wrist and snatched it with her foot before it could fall, her leg stretching very briefly to allow for the reach, and then used the dagger to slice off the patch of the virago's skin she had nearly ripped free. The virago flailed in pain, trying to shake her off, but her foot's grip was too strong, and the virago only succeeded in swiping her around and under her arm.

Ebony took this chance to stab her newly acquired weapon into its previous owner's armpit, and then slice down its side; washing herself in its blood and opening the virago's body from the side.

Antiquarian: She screamed in horror at the sudden appearance of this new foe and its sudden, brutal actions against her mistress. She raised her censer and shook it toward her mistress, sending a cloud of fortifying vapors to hopefully stop the bleeding and ease her mistress's pain so it could regain some of her strength.

Chris: He rubbed his eyes with his right hand and was able to make out the blurry visions of three characters. There was a tall one, a small one, and a middle-sized one that he could make out as moving, but his heightened sense of smell could pick up the scent of vapors, burning, and a lot of blood.

The sounds of battle told him that the three were fighting, but, in his current condition, his rage was turned to uncertainty, and so he reverted back to his human form; his body shrinking and his hands moving to grab his chains for protection and attack. He took a deep breath and worked his gag reflex until he felt bile rising from the back of his throat, and then spattered the corrosive stomach acids in the general direction of the blurs when he saw the smaller one move aside.

Ebony end: Prize in hand and most of the blood dripped off of it, she rolled the patch of flesh up longways before holding it to her larger mouth. Of its own accord, the mouth opened and took a bite of the fungus covered flesh, the tongue darting out from the top of the jaw to take the rest of it. She stepped back, avoiding the bile from Chris, and tossed the dagger from her foot to her hand.

Round Ten:

Ebony start: She turned her head to Chris, now in his human form, but the larger eyes on her chest were still looking at the virago with a deep hunger in them. "Hi Chris! Hungry? I'll have something for you in a moment!" She said quickly and turned her head back to the virago; now with a weapon, but she had already made her cut.

She dashed back toward the virago, faking it out by stopping short so it could miss it's retaliatory strike, and stepped back to its wounded side. In place, she plunged her hand, up to her elbow and using the other for support, into the grisly wound, and, seeming to delight in the blood that covered her, grasped hold of an organ.

Virago: Pain and torture were not the right words to describe her current situation. Anguish and damnation were perhaps the closest as she was being bled and gutted alive by the smiling, giggling demon near her. She gasped and breathed a cloud of noxious fumes on her attacker, but, rather than react in pain, it giggled and continued its gruesome work.

Did it not care that there was poisoned gas filling its lung? Or was it just that the fumes did not harm it as was fit for a normal creature.

Ebony: Rather than cut the organ out, she pulled the mass of living tissue from the body, exposing it to the air, and swiftly bit it free with the teeth of her head, not her larger mouth, and slipped away from the virago. She tossed the organ, the liver by the looks of it, into the air as she backed away, dropped the dagger back to her foot, and caught it in her hands.

To prepare it for Chris, she briefly massaged the organ, squeezing most of the blood out of it, and then tossed it onto the cauldron. With that done, she stepped toward the virago, and then back flipped away, cutting it from the groin to chest with the dagger in her foot.

Antiquarian: She shrieked in horror as she watched the little monster tear into her mistress, giggling and acting like some kind of cheery girl at play. She raised her censer and dagger in front of her, pointing the censer to her mistress and letting the healing vapors seep out of it while keeping the dagger trained on the creature.

Her hands trembled, and yet her fingers were white where she tightly gripped the handles of the dagger and censer. "I don't want to die... I don't want to die..." She mumbled to herself as she trembled in fear. She wanted to run, but she was afraid to do so. If her mistress and her younger could not fight against this thing, then what could she do if she could not run?

Chris: "Ebony?" He asked. "You... you came to save me?" He asked, perplexed. He was still unable to truly see what was happening, but he could guess. He knew her to be a sturdy and agile creature, but he was worried about the amount of blood he kept smelling and hearing spill.

Ebony end: "Don't be silly!" She called out to her patron. "I'm here to feed you!" She said from nearby the cauldron. She snatched the liver from the pot and moved toward Chris. "Open wide and don't choke!" She said as she leaped toward him, her legs and free arm grappling him to keep herself in place, and shoved the raw organ into his mouth. "I can't feed unless you eat! And there's a whole pig I have to finish butchering." She said with a cute, if not manically, giggle.

End of combat:

The virago, at this point, tried to hobble away to save itself, even going so far as to push the antiquarian toward the creature that had so badly wounded it. It was difficult, instinct to get away clouding its judgement and knowledge that it was about to die, but there was nothing else it could do but try to flee as far from it.

Ebony, after removing her hand from Chris's mouth, let go of him and dropped to the ground, her limbs turning unnaturally to catch her body before her back hit the floor. "Hey now, where do you think you're going pig?" She asked with a smile before beginning to crawl toward the fleeing virago.

Four limbs, things between arms and legs, with a head at one end and tail at the other, stalked toward the mushroom backed virago in its cloak, moving as though it were waiting to leap on top of its prey and begin tearing into its flesh.

The antiquarian's will broke and she shrunk down as Ebony approached her, dropping her censer and dagger to the ground, and put her arms over her head. She shut her eyes as tight as she could and tried not to think of the sounds around her and her encroaching doom.

The man that turned into the beast was chewing and choking, her virago mistress was panting and dying, the small monster was laughing and giggling sadistically, her younger mistress inside the cauldron was dead for all she knew, and there was the scent of burning that still filled the air near the cauldron... and then she heard her dagger and censer drop, bounce, and roll.

The laughter stopped then, followed by a thunk noise, and she felt a hand on her shoulder and a shake. Ebony had stopped her crawling and rose, throwing the dagger from her foot into the back of the virago's head, killing it instantly, and frowned as she looked at the censer.

With care, she bent down and picked it up with reverence, looking it over and moving her hands across its surface. She then looked at the cloaked woman. "Take better care of this. It's more important than you think." She said before pushing the censer between the space at the antiquarian's shoulder and neck. She turned her head, speaking causally but still frowning, and looked at Chris. "Are you going to be okay? There's more to eat, you know?"

"Are you mad!" He called out, gasping for air and coughing. "You choked me!" He said before hacking up a small spray of blood. His chest still hurt from whatever the virago had done, but he was able to stay on his feet thanks to the minor healing he received from turning back into his human form.

Ebony smiled again, her voice becoming more cheerful. "It's not like I was trying to kill you. You know I need my patrons alive so I can feed. Now, sit down, catch your breath, and wait for the nurse to get here. I've got a pig and a cauldron, so I can make meat stew for the two of you." The voice said before giggling, and then turned her head to the other woman. "I'm still hungry... and you two are the only ones that can feed me right now."