Disclaimer: I do not own the "Fighting Fantasy" game-books or any of the series characters or concepts. This story is purely a work of fan fiction. No profit is being made from it.

Author's Note: This story takes place after "Vault of the Vampire."

Nastassia idly hummed a tune to herself as she removed pieces of bark from the willow tree in front of her, taking care to not damage the tree. Her grandmother Svetlana's rheumatism had been causing her pain the last few days and the bark would help ease it.

Despite being only seventeen Nastassia was a gifted healer, with a remarkable knowledge of the medicinal properties of certain plants and herbs. She was also a beautiful young woman, with long auburn hair, light skin and deep blue eyes. A simple light blue dress clung to her willowy figure.

Content that she had enough bark to help her grandmother she put the pieces into a leather satchel hanging on her left hip and started for home; the small coaching village of Leverhelven. As she walked she admired her surroundings and marvelled at how they had changed. The forests around her village had long been known to be dark and foreboding, but with the vanquishing of the evil vampire Count Heydrich, former ruler of the land, the forest was now a beautiful place. The trees grew strong and tall while colourful flowers bloomed, filling the air with their fragrant scents. The formerly bare earth now had a covering of bright green grass.

Just then a faint sound reached her ears. She stopped and listened carefully. It was hard to tell but it sounded like someone was groaning in pain. Concerned, Nastassia followed the sound into the woods.

"I'm sorry grandmother" she whispered. She had promised Svetlana that she would always keep to the path when going into the forest (after all it would be foolish to think that Count Heydrich's defeat had gotten rid of all dangerous creatures), but if someone was injured then it was her duty as a healer to help them.

She soon arrived at a clearing and stopped in dismay at the sight before her. Laying face-down on the ground and groaning pitifully was a small figure, about a metre tall, wearing brown and green leathers. His right ankle was caught in a bear trap, its vicious steel teeth biting into his flesh. Blood had soaked into his green breeches and flies were buzzing eagerly around the wound.

By the gods that's a little boy she thought. She ran over and crouched next to him.

"Hold on I'll help you" Nastassia said firmly. She quickly found a sturdy tree branch and used it as a lever to manually pry the steel jaws open, allowing her to ease the boy's leg free of the trap. It snapped closed again and she let it fall to the ground. The boy tried to crawl away but he was so weak that he could barely move.

"It's all right, I'm not going to hurt you" she said reassuringly as she started looking through her satchel. He rolled awkwardly onto his back and her eyes widened.

The figure before her wasn't a boy. Despite his size his features were those of a fully grown man. His ears were pointed, and his eyes and nose were too large to be human. She recognised him from her grandmother's stories as a Woodling. At once his eyes filled with fear and he tried to scramble backwards only to wince in pain as his injured leg bumped against a stone.

"Don't be afraid, I can help you" she said gently. He said nothing but the fear in his eyes faded, replaced by wariness. He watched as she prepared a poultice of herbs. "I'm going to put this on your wound. It will stop the bleeding and keep it from becoming infected. Do you understand?"

He nodded. She applied the poultice to his wound and bandaged it with a piece of cloth. Cautiously he stood up and looked down in surprise at his bandaged leg.

"Is that better?" she asked.

He looked at her with a bemused expression. After a moment he spoke, his voice thin and reedy. "Thank you" he said. With that he promptly turned and hurried away into the forest.

"Wait" Nastassia called but there was no reply. She considered trying to follow him but decided against it. Her grandmother had told her that Woodlings were adept at hiding in bushes and trees. If he didn't want to be found then he wouldn't be. She had also said that they were very distrustful of other beings. If she followed him that might only frighten him more.

"I hope he'll be all right" she mused. "I treated the wound as best I could and he seemed fine but still…"

She sighed. There was nothing more she could do for the Woodling now and no point in dwelling on it further. She returned to the path and made it home without further incident.

A few weeks later…

Nastassia resisted the temptation to curse as she hurried along the path through the woods. She had gone to Castle Heydrich to treat Lothar the castellan after he had eaten contaminated food and gotten seriously ill. Fortunately she had managed to prepare a potion that had healed the sickness and left him sleeping peacefully. However it had taken longer than she had expected and the sun had set before she could get back home. Even without Count Heydrich and his monstrous servants it was still dangerous to be out in the forest at night.

Grandmother will be so worried she thought guiltily. I have to get home quickly.

There was a full moon and a clear sky so she could see where she was going, but she was so focused on her objective that she almost didn't notice a prone figure laying on the path. Just in time she managed to stop before she tripped over it. Thankfully he was still breathing. Upon taking a closer look she recognised who he was.

"Barandrun? What's wrong?" Nastassia asked as she bent down to examine him. The forester preferred to live alone in the woods but occasionally he ventured into Leverhelven and she had met him a few times. Despite being a loner he was a good man with no enemies. Why would he be laying on the ground like this? Had something attacked him?

With a groan he rolled over onto his back and Nastassia gasped as she saw a large, savage bite wound on his shoulder. He was also in the grip of fever, his face flushed and sweat trickling down his face. Breathing heavily, he looked up at her with eyes that were unnaturally bright.

"Nuh, Nastassia?" he managed to say.

"Yes Barandrun, it's me" she replied gently.

"Wuh, werewolf" he said weakly. "Fought it off but it bit me."

"It bit you? Oh no." The bite had infected him with lycanthropy. There was only one way to save him now; he had to eat a sprig of deadly nightshade, or belladonna, before the transformation into a werewolf was complete. She did not have any in her satchel but she knew where to find it.

"Hold on, there's some belladonna not far from here. I'll go and get you some" she said as she stood up.

"Too dangerous… I'll, ugh, come with you." He tried to stand up but was too weak. He slumped back down with a groan.

"Don't worry. I won't be long" she reassured him. With that she hurried away into the forest.

It did not take long for Nastassia to arrive at a great oak tree. One of the oldest and biggest trees in the forest, it towered over its neighbours. Nestled comfortably in its roots was a cluster of plants with green-tinged purple flowers. She hastily took two sprigs.

The irony was not lost on her that while it could cure lycanthropy the plant was also highly poisonous. Thankfully her satchel did have some leaves that contained a natural antidote.

Just as she was about to head back to Barandrun, a menacing snarl reached her ears and she froze in place. She turned around as something emerged from the trees with a rustling of leaves.

The creature was huge, easily twice the size of a regular wolf, with jet black fur and yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dimness. The werewolf had not come away unscathed from its attack on Barandrun. Across its snout was a long cut and a second ran down its right foreleg. Both cuts were matted with blood, but they only added to its menace. It growled, lips curling back to display its large fangs.

She pressed her back against the oak tree, her eyes wide with fear as the werewolf tensed its muscles, ready to pounce. In desperation her eyes darted around, looking for something she could use to try and fight it off, like a large stick or a rock. But she couldn't see anything suitable.

Something glinted in the moonlight as it whizzed through the air and hit the werewolf with a faint thud. The creature threw back its head and howled in pain. Nastassia looked over in the direction the object, a dart which was now stuck in the werewolf's back, had come from. To her surprise she saw the same Woodling she had helped several weeks ago peering out from behind a tree.

With a growl the werewolf plucked the dart from its hide and hurled it away. It then turned and began to stalk towards the Woodling. He looked afraid but he stayed right where he was. She was about to call to him to run away when the werewolf suddenly convulsed. It dropped to the ground, limbs flopping around like fish out of water. After a few seconds it went still, eyes fixed open and unblinking. Slowly it began to revert to the form of a man, its black fur receding into its skin, limbs twisting and crunching as the bones restructured themselves.

She looked over at where the Woodling had been standing but he was gone, leaving no trace he'd ever been there except the dart laying in the grass. A dart that had been coated in poison she realised.

"Thank you" she said.

Nastassia quickly returned to Barandrun to find that his fever was worsening. Despite the mild night he was now drenched in sweat and he was struggling to breath.

"Here, chew these" she said. He opened his mouth and she dropped the belladonna sprigs and the antidote leaves into it. Immediately he began chewing them while she stood back and watched. Several moments passed with awful slowness but eventually it became clear that his fever was decreasing. He stopped sweating and his breathing returned to normal. The lycanthropy had been cured.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Much better thanks to you" he replied. He tried to stand up but again he collapsed back down to the ground.

"Take a moment to rest. You're still very weak" she said.

"No time. We have to get out of here before that werewolf comes back" he replied.

"We don't have to worry about the werewolf."

He looked up at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

Nastassia told him what had happened while she applied a dressing and bandages to his bite wound. She explained how the Woodling she had helped had slain the werewolf. Barandrun nodded in understanding.

"It's a good thing you saved him from that trap. Otherwise I doubt he would have done that."

"Well my grandmother always says one good turn to deserves another" she replied.

"Good advice" he commented. By now he was sufficiently rested and he stood up easily.

"You're welcome to come back with me" she offered. "I'm sure my grandmother wouldn't mind."

"I will, thank you."

"Nastassia!" Svetlana exclaimed as her granddaughter entered the cottage. She rushed up to her and hugged her tightly. "Where have you been? I've been going mad with worry."

"I'm sorry grandmother" she said as she returned the hug.

"It's my fault Svetlana" Barandrun said as he stood in the doorway and pointed at his bandaged shoulder. "I managed to get myself injured and your granddaughter had to patch me up."

"I see. Well you did the right thing by helping him. I'm proud of you Nastassia."

"Thank you grandmother. Um, since Barandrun's hut is far away can he stay here for the night?"

"Certainly. We should always show hospitality to others."

He nodded. "I appreciate this Svetlana."

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll prepare some stew for us."

As she wandered over to the cottage's simple kitchen and began chopping ingredients Nastassia whispered to Barandrun, "I wonder if we'll ever see that Woodling again."

"I highly doubt it" he replied. "The forest people don't think much of humankind and he was injured by something made by a human. Now that he's repaid his debt he'll probably stay far away from this village. Still, stranger things have happened."

Soon afterwards the three of them were seated around a table enjoying a delicious stew prepared by Svetlana. As they talked and laughed none of them had any idea that a small figure, no taller than a boy, was standing outside with his ear pressed to the door.

As he listened to the sounds of talking and laughter his usual dour expression became a small smile. Satisfied that the human girl was well he slipped out of the village as silently as he had entered it. Idly he wondered if he would ever see her again. He doubted it but stranger things had happened.