Thread: The Darkness in Addersdale (E404UserNotFound and ErinKate424)

The sound of hooves thundered over the plains to west of Darrendale Keep, the horses pounded the ground, leapt across the rocky ground and snorted in frustration as their riders pushed them harder and harder across the earth. With each sprint forward, Vesh, Knight of Darrendale and servant to her the Duchess, knew he was gaining on Allexia, it wouldnt be long, he thought, before he would find the Rebellious little cunt as he now called her, at least in secret to his men who rode along with him. After hours of riding he pulled the reins of his mount and gained a full stop, throwing his arm up in order to stop his men, and when halted, the horses snorted and hooved at the ground anxiously to get moving again. Any sight of her? he called out, removing his helm from atop his head, turning to look at one of his Lieutenants. No Sir, not a sight from what I can seebut Lady Donparthy has quite a head start on us. The next time I want your professional estimation of how far we are behindIll ask you Dalton, until then, keep your mouth shut and just answer to what you are asked. He said with a scowl, not liking the fact that he had been outfoxed by a young girl. After several moments he frowned and looked up at the sky, the moon was rising already, the sun would be down soon. She wouldnt move at night most likelyand neither would he, the chances of passing her up would be too great. We camp here. Said the elf, sliding off of his mount and tossing his sword to the ground in frustration. The earth was damp with its blood. A dark red stain crept into the soft earth of Addersdale forest, the stag that lay on its side was gasping for air, its wound deadly and deep. There was no hope for the poor beast and before long, if not aided, it would slid into a cold death from its loss of blood. However, no event would occur. Moments later, a large gaping maw clamped down around the throat of the once proud beast and shook its head roughly, ripping it from what was now the carcass of the antlered animal. With a loud growl he the beast threw its head back, swallowing and chomping down on the meat that it had torn from the animal. A face covered in the blood of a fresh kill only made the beast look more fearsome, though without the blood it certainly maintained such a status. The feral werewolf stood proudly on two legs as it ate, its unnaturally long arms hanging down by its side, clicking its claws that were coated in blood. It look every inch the bipedal wolf with dark black fur, but grown to the stature of a man, nine foot tall and deadly. It maintained almost all of its wolfish features. The blood came again as the beast dug into the carcass and after he had finished feeding, a contended sigh came from the beastleaning back on its haunches and standing protectively over the kill. In this part of the world, werewolves werent like the traditional strain that sometimes haunted cities or carried off people In the middle of the night. Here in this forest, the rumor was that there were beasts that could turn into men, not men that could turn into beasts. Rask, as he called himself, had been a proud warrior once, in his time. From a tribe of elves that had come down from the mountains to hunt these forests. But fifty years ago, his troop had been attacked and he, the lone survivor, was infected with lycanthropy. This strain however kept him in this state, like a wolf, only to change back to his true state for a period of ten days each lunar cycle. He had lost most of his conscious thought when in his more feral form and felt every bit like the beast he was. Travelers knew to stay away, and they certainly knew not to bring their wives and daughters.Rask had needs, after all. Needs that had to be satisfied. There were no more of his kind in the area. But now, content with his meal, he fell hard to his back in the soft grass and groaned, happy, full, and stained with blood.