Oops. Six days.
Well, erm . . . I sort of have an excuse. I was overcome with a sudden desire to play Warcraft 3 again. So, that's what I did. And so my writing was slowed down because of it.
Erm . . . heh . . .
10 – Unleash The Beast
Kathryn
Taking the cobblestone path that led down to the farmsteads on the shore below Duskhaven, Kathryn started contemplating life at the present moment and pulled a face.
To matters of importance: Liam. It was obvious he hadn't been going positively psycho for a very long period of time – he wasn't that worse for wear. The mess he had been attempting to put himself in to was obviously induced by recent discoveries, and Kathryn had a nasty feeling it had something to do with him finding her as a worgen. She had only been, ahem . . . retrieved about a week ago, as far as she knew. And, she wasn't having a sense of her own importance or anything, but she could tie the two together. Liam was just that sort of person, she guessed. He was a prince . . . and felt the need to sulk when things didn't go his way.
No, she was lying to herself.
He wasn't like that. Quite clearly.
But the fact that he had almost gotten full on drunk because of her actually made her feel rather horrible. Thank the Light she had caught him when he was just bordering on tipsy. She was also relieved that he was rather sane when alcohol was in his systems. The worst he was doing was stumbling all over the place, though Kathryn wouldn't have wanted to see what would have happened had she not intervened when she did. Really, he ought to have been a little more sensible. However, understandably, grieving sometimes did that to people.
But, she thought, pausing half way down the slope, was he grieving?
Did he actually care? The thought of it made her laugh bitterly. Not a chance. To start off she had been an absolute cow to him (still was), and now . . . and now . . . and now she was, well, something very close to a wolf. But a lot more savage. And being completely honest here, how could anyone like someone . . . someone like her? She wasn't fishing for compliments; she just knew it wasn't possible. She was already being discriminated against by the small population of Duskhaven. Against the rest of the world . . . she wouldn't stand a chance.
There were a small scattering of farmsteads on the expanse of land at the bottom of the slope, and in the fields healthy corn crops were thriving. A low, stone wall bordered some of the small streams the ocean had created and cobblestone paths led to each doorstep. Outside the cellar of one of the houses, two guards and their dogs were positioned, guns in hand. Upon seeing Kathryn approach, they raised their guns and their dogs growled. She resisted the temptation to growl back and instead focused on the men.
'I've been sent to help Godfrey,' she said flatly, not amused in the slightest by their hostility. Recognition seemed to cross both of their faces.
'You're that one, aren't you?' one of them said, turning his back on her and unbolting the door. 'The prince was your beau when you were normal, wasn't he?'
Kathryn just about nearly tripped over in surprise. 'What? No!'
'Certainly kicked up enough of a fuss about it when he thought you were dead,' he muttered.
Kathryn was seething. Actually seething. 'I'll have you know,' she started, her voice shaky from rage, 'I knew him for about two hours before – before this!' She gestured to the whole of herself, and the other watchman snorted. 'You're making me start to question why he did that, miss. Pardon me, but you don't seem like the happiest of sorts.'
Kathryn's eyes narrowed. 'You try and go through half of what I have, then come back and tell me how you're feeling.' She gave him a glare for good measure and made her way down the cellar steps.
The cellar wasn't exactly crowded – there were about ten people in there and it was large for a cellar. Some spare artillery had been stacked up. Godfrey, who had been speaking to a brown haired woman, looked up at her entrance. His eyes narrowed, but he crossed the room to her regardless.
'The Forsaken are here in full strength, Kathryn,' he said, his voice low. 'We barely have enough men to hold them back.' He took a slow inhale, looking her up and down. 'I'm not going to lie. I don't like the idea of having worgen among our ranks. Who knows how long til Krennan's concoction wears off and you're trying to chomp one of our heads off. Until that time, however, we can make ample use of your ferocity.'
Kathryn didn't say anything, but she was slightly confused. Was that a good or bad thing?
'I want you to go out in the battlefield and kill as many of those Forsaken as you can, in as brutal a way as you can. We're going to put the fear of the worgen in them, Kathryn.'
'So now I'm your weapon,' she said slowly.
'Do you want to help or not?'
Kathryn couldn't find an objection that she particularly felt like voicing.
'Now, I've a plan to kill two birds with one stone. You're the stone in this plan. Take out the machinists manning the catapults out there. After this, use the catapults to launch yourself aboard the Forsaken ships. If your aim isn't terrible, you should be able to land safely. Once on board, go below decks and take care of each ship's captain.'
The brown haired woman, who had been hovering anxiously behind Godfrey this entire time, stepped forward to talk to Kathryn, a look of pure fear in her eyes.
'The military will not allow me outside the cellar, but my children are still in my farm!' she whispered. Kathryn suddenly felt rather sick. Oh no. The woman grabbed her by her hands (paws?) and looked right at her as she spoke. 'Please, you must go find them.'
'Melinda, come now -' Godfrey started tiredly. She ignored him completely and continued talking.
'The Forsaken have no regard for innocent life - my kids are in great danger!' She seemed so desperate that Kathryn was inclined to help – that was, if the children were still alive.
'Their names are Cynthia, Ashley and James,' Melinda said. 'If you find them, bring them back here. I'll be forever in your debt.'
Kathryn stepped back. 'I – I'll keep an eye out.'
'Thank you.' The woman's eyes were shining with tears. Swallowing lightly, Kathryn turned on her heels and made her way back to the steps out of the cellar.
Looking at the shore outside, the chaos was almost indescribable. The ground was swarming with Forsaken and their numerous, skull adorned catapults, while at the docks, two ships were anchored and firing towards the distant silhouette of Duskhaven.
Taking immediate action, Kathryn raced through cornfields and shot out the other side of them, pouncing on her victims and viciously ripping them apart in front of their allies, before turning on them. Flesh was shredded, bones snapped and heads sent flying. And, Kathryn enjoyed every second of it. This animal instinct really knew what it was doing.
She stopped her attack for long enough to remember that she had children to look for.
In the cornfields by the nearest house, she could see a blonde head of hair hiding amongst the crop, running to the house. Kathryn dropped to all fours and ran towards it before one of the dead noticed. When she got there, a small boy who was about seven stumbled backwards in terror, watching Kathryn with fearful eyes.
'Your mother's in the basement next door. Get to her now!' Kathryn said, getting onto her back two feet and pointing with a clawed hand. James' breathing was harsh.
'Don't hurt me!' he cried. 'I was just looking for my sisters! I think Ashley's inside that house!'
Giving a small nod, Kathryn watched as he turned and ran, not moving until she was sure he had disappeared down the cellar. Then, turning and smashing open the door to the house, she ran upstairs, looking about wildly. A five year old redhead with two braids screamed and ran at the sight of her, bolting herself in the bedroom. Knowing it wouldn't be the best idea to smash her way in after her, Kathryn simply decided to be civil about it and not terrify the poor girl any further.
'Join the others inside the basement next door.' She jiggled the door a bit, and by the sound of it the lock slid out of place. 'Hurry!'
Ashley pushed the door open and her brown eyes pierced Kathryn's through the small gap.
'Are you one of the good worgen, miss?'
When Kathryn nodded, she pushed the door open and stepped out. 'Did you see Cynthia hiding in the sheds outside?'
She shook her head, and Ashley started running down the stairs. 'Please find her!' she called as she disappeared from sight.
Quickly glancing through the window, Kathryn spotted the shed Ashley must have been talking about, then watched the little girl run to the cellar. Turning and running down the stairs for herself, Kathryn jumped the last five steps and shot out the front door, making a beeline straight for the shed. When she was almost there she heard a piercing scream, and reacting instinctively, she burst into the tiny clearing of dirt and flattened the maliciously grinning corpse-man who was raising a lethal looking blade. Kathryn ripped off his head and tore apart his ribs with her claws, tossing his rotting remains deep into the field. The little, three year old blonde girl who had been hiding against the shed was still wailing. Kneeling down so she was level with the girl, Kathryn pointed and gave directions.
'It's not safe here. Go to the Allen's basement.'
Cynthia sniffled. 'You are scary! I just want my mummy!' She turned and ran barefooted through the fields, and standing back up again, Kathryn could just see her reach the house she was supposed to.
At least that didn't fail.
She swiped a machinist off the catapult he was firing and dealt with him appropriately before leaping up into the mechanism. Gritting her teeth, Kathryn turned it so it faced the nearest of the two ships, then had a fiddle with the angle before she deemed it about the right height. She had never worked one of these things before. She would most likely die doing this. Well, here goes nothing. She crawled out onto the arm of the catapult and reached out to smack the button from where she was.
The reaction was instant. The arm flew forward and so did Kathryn, soaring through the air as the ship became closer and closer. Now she just had to land this without injuring herself.
The mast was a good idea, she realised.
Reaching out before her, right as Kathryn hit the wood, her claws stuck into it. She then wrenched her hands out of it and slid down the wooden pole, landing on the deck. No one seemed to be around. Her best assumption was that the captains she was searching for were below deck somewhere. At least one of them had to be on this ship.
She ran into the cabin and took the stairs down under the deck, squinting slightly in the dim, eerily green light. Cobwebs adorned the walls and the beams that ran overhead, almost as though they were delicate chandeliers the spiders had created themselves. Or perhaps this was the sort of taste the Forsaken had in regards to décor. For all Kathryn knew, that could be the case.
Where the stairs led out, there was a long room with rows upon rows of cannons, all poking out of holes in the ship. There was a room astern of the boat, directly opposite her. Through the doorway, she could see movement.
Dropping down onto all fours and moving as quietly as she could, Kathryn crept in the shadows, keeping low and ensuring her breathing was light. She could barely hear herself, and she supposed that was why worgen were such good hunters. Being as lightweight as she was, the gentle creaking the ship occasionally made wasn't actually caused by her, but was due to it rocking slowly on the water.
Kathryn moved up against the doorframe, where she could hear the captain muttering irritably to himself.
She needed to time this right, preferably while he was looking away. There was the sound of boards creaking as weight rested upon them, and Kathryn started to count in her head.
Three . . .
Two . . .
One . . .
She sprung out of her hiding place and leapt upon the unsuspecting captain, knocking him to the ground. There was the sound of splintering bone as his arm hit the ground at a wrong angle. The additional weight Kathryn put on it didn't seem to help that. The captain growled in pain and stabbed violently at her with a knife. Kathryn dodged the blows and rolled sideways, making sure to tear a chunk of flesh off his ribcage while doing so. She spat out the filthy, rotten taste and dove back on him, closing her jaws around his neck and ripping his head clean off. The body fell limp, and trying to ignore the feeling of revulsion she got whenever doing this, Kathryn tossed the head away and got to her feet.
Right. One more to go, then.
For once, Godfrey actually seemed remotely pleased to see her.
'Well done, Kathryn,' he said, giving her a nod of approval. 'You might be a bloody beast, but you're our beast.'
Kathryn bristled, but otherwise chose to ignore this comment.
'Excellent work so far,' he continued. 'Our scouts have identified the leader of the Forsaken ground assault. One of Sylvanas' handpicked dark rangers is overseeing the battlefront from the Walden house near the shore.' He held out a dog whistle in his hand and Kathryn eyed it angrily, feeling like this was supposed to be some sick, mocking joke. 'Take this whistle and use it when you're close to her.'
She didn't move.
'I'll have my men let loose our attack mastiffs to take her down,' Godfrey explained, humour gleaming in his eyes. 'Be careful, Kathryn. You don't want to engage her alone.'
Upon exiting the cellar and looking around, Kathryn instantly saw her. Dressed in black, purple and gold robes, the pale skinned dark ranger sat atop an armoured skeletal war horse. She was just outside a house to the south, past where the low, stone wall curved slightly inwards.
Kathryn looked at the dog whistle in her hand then up at the ranger again, before stuffing the whistle in her pocket. Then, deciding that there was no better way to do this, she dropped onto all fours and charged at the ranger.
The other woman didn't look up from the attack she was surveying until the last minute, which was when Kathryn leapt up again and blew the whistle. It let off a shrill, piercing sound which hurt her ears. The ranger didn't seem to be able to hear this, and let out a cold laugh, drawing two blades. They seemed to glow red, just like her eyes.
That was when the dogs began streaming out of farmsteads, houses in Duskhaven – they seemed to come from everywhere. The ranger evidently hadn't been expecting this. She let out a cry of fury as she was tackled by viciously snapping dogs, which turned to pain when Kathryn joined the fray.
After a good minute of the violent bloodbath, Kathryn ended her misery by snapping her neck, and the groups of dogs dispersed, leaving Kathryn on her own beside the corpse of a dark ranger. Once again, she felt sickened with herself. She really couldn't control this violence, could she? The worst thing was that at the time she was always . . . enjoying it.
This curse really was going to be the death of her.
'You did it, Kathryn,' Godfrey said. 'That should take the wind out of their sails.'
There was a huge rumbling noise and the ground seemed to shake violently. There was yelling as those in the cellar tripped over or slid sideways.
'What's happening?' Melinda cried.
'Hold your positions, men!' Godfrey bellowed, getting a firm grip on his firearm. Kathryn tumbled over and landed on her backside, letting out a yelp as she collided with the stone floor.
It stopped just as suddenly as it started, and everyone got to their feet, starting to recover from the shock.
'What in the world was that, Kathryn?' Godfrey asked, turning to her. 'Those were not cannons or catapults, that is for sure.'
Kathryn got unsteadily to her feet.
'Go outside and see what is going on,' he said. Kathryn looked over at the cellar door, which had slammed shut. She made her way over to it and up the steps, pushing it back open.
What she saw almost made her heart stop.
Review!
Last edited: 16/1/16