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Edric heaves the man onto his horse which, as the largest and strongest of all their steeds, seemed best equipped to handle the extra weight. Slipping off his breastplate he hands it off to Vosil. "We'll ride better if I'm not wearing this. We'll need to be as swift as possible to make it back to Concord in time! Swinging up onto the horse behind the bound man he whispers in his ears. "I mean you no ill will. Fight the transformation until we return to Concord and we can secure you safely. If you give in or flee then the wolf will not be enough to save you from my goddesses light!
With that Edric mutters a word in varisian and his steed leaps forwards, pounding into the rapidly gathering darkness.
Hopping on her horse, the Viscountess starts off trailing Edric... and fails to make up any ground. Despite her familiarity with Apple, the horse seems to fight Talia's every intention to spur her faster, and before long, Fairhaven's General has dissapeared beyond the horizon.
Sighing, the Viscountess slows Apple to a trot. She'd intended to buy some better reins months ago. Mentally admonishing herself for not doing so, Talia hopes that the others make it in time to quarantine the menace...
Even burdened with the unfamiliar weight of Edric's armour, Vosil just about keeps pace with the paladin, arriving into town only moments behind him. Quickly tethering his stallion to the nearest fastening, he dismounts and helps Edric wrestle the burly Kellid into a secure cell.
"Let us hope that can hold him - and that Asha has the magic to heal his affliction."
Dregan easily keeps pace and goes ahead to open the doors for those carrying the werewolf.
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Naralesh and his mare Susan have known each other for the horse's entire life, and he is more than experienced with such hard riding. He keeps pace with the others at first, but as Talia begins to fall behind, he glances back at her. The viscountess, alone without an escort? The powerful form of Edric charges ahead, rushing toward Concord. The others can handle the beast. If something were to happen to Talia out here...
Naralesh slows his horse. "Edric will get him there in time. I've rarely seen a rider move so fast." He pulls alongside Talia. "And I think it will be safer for both of us if we do not leave any of our number behind."
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Edric, Vosil, and Dregan ride hard in the dying light, leaving Naralesh and Talia to follow as best they can. Darkness falls deeply in the Greenbelt, and the first stars are already showing as you pause for a moment to let your horses catch their breath. The lights of Concord twinkle far ahead, easily seen on the hillock on which the castle sits (and the town is built around). It is a clear, flat mile from where you sit before you reach the town. There is no gate - you haven't built that yet - but you can see the lanterns from the watch as they walk their patrol routes.
The first light of the rising moon begins to show behind the trees, bringing a low rumble from the bound Kundall. He shifts uneasily in the saddle in front of Edric. The paladin urges his horse forward, Vosil and Dregan in pursuit. The horses practically fly over the even ground, glistening with sweat. Concord looms as a dark mass growing larger as the race plays out.
A single watchman spots the horses thundering toward the town, raising his lantern to get a better look.
"Ho there! Halt! State your names and business!" But the man dives out of the way as Edric and company nearly ride him down. The lantern tumbles into the street, the fall snuffing out the small flame. In the near-darkness of the street, the watchman does not recognize you, and shouts out a warning.
"Alarm! Alarm! 'Ware three riders! Alarm!"
The edge of moonlight now peeks over the rooftops of Concord, the moon not quite visible, but continuing it's inexorable ascent. Doors and windows clatter open, spilling light into the dark streets. Just as quickly, people duck back into their homes to avoid being trampled by the three.
You round the corner onto the main street before the jail. Already a troop of watchmen is forming under the night-sergeant's experienced eye. Another warning is shouted as you race forward. The sergeant calls his men to arms and issues a challenge.
"Ho there! Riders! Halt!"
Sitting with head bowed in front of Edric, Kundall emits another deep rumble, and a low moan escapes from his lips...
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Vosil lets the hood fall from his face, grabbing his Everburning Torch from his pack. "It's us, sergeant! Look! Your General!"
He earnestly hopes that there aren't too many Shoanti hereabouts: Edric should be pretty recognisable. "We've captured the man who committed those murders - now help us get him into jail before the moon rises!"
An afterthought. "And send a man to fetch Kesten Garess!"
A deep breath.
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Edric doesn't even dismount, riding past the sargeant he bellows in a voice that has been honed on the parade ground these last few months. "Sargeant Martun. Get your men out of the way and cell doors open or by the gods above you will wish latrine duty was the least of your worries!"
As his horse surges right up to the prison, Edric slides off, pulling the semi-conscious Kundall with him. "Vosil, get the guard in here and secure the building! I'll get him to the cell! Lock me in if you must!"
Edric and Vosil dismount and give orders to the soldiers nearby. Dregan stands nearby on his horse, keeping an eye on Kundall. The men's initial confusion is replaced with haste as Sergeant Martun barks: "You there! You heard the General! Get a move on!" Two men step forward to take Kundall by the arms as he slumps to his knees. Another grabs the iron latch of the heavy oaken door of the jail and yanks it open. A third rushes of to find Kesten while the remaining men head into the jail to clear the way.
The bright edge of the full moon peaks over the rooftops of Concord...
Kundall jerks violently and falls on his face on the cobblestone street. The two soldiers reach down to get him up when the man convulses, a low growl issuing from his lips. The men stand up in alarm, backing up a step, fear written clearly on their faces. The prone form of Kundall convulses again...twice...three times. In the flickering torch light on the street in front of the jail, the dark form grows larger, heavier; long claws sprout from his hands as he gets to a knee.
Sergeant Martun turns back from where he was issuing orders to those who went inside to see his men frozen in the street. "Get moving you lot! I said...get...moving!" He steps forward to grab the dark figure by the arm.
A snarl...white fangs in the moonlight...a flash of claws in the dark...Sergeant Martun falls away, hands clutching at his abdomen as his entrails spill into the street. A howl of victory rolls through the lanes of Concord.
The form of what was once a man stands fully 8 feet tall in the lane, bloody claws raised to the full moon. It wheels around to face you, eyes full of hate. Whatever Kundall was, the creature before you is no longer that man.
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Naralesh and Talia, far out on the rolling plain before Concord can barely make out the twinkling lights of the town. All is quiet, and only the wind coming off the lake makes any sound. Slowed to a trot, you'd almost believe that all went well.
Then a long howl of hate comes like a wave across the plain, rolling over and around you. It is faint enough because of the distance, but there is no mistaking the sound. Kundall is loose in Concord.
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Edric curses loudly as Kundall gives in to his curse. "Vosil, Dregan. Take him down as quick as we can - no mercy now! Gaurds, get back - contain him away from the town!" With hammer in hand and the grace of his goddess defending him Edric summons the starlight of Desna, engulfing the area in star motes and emboldening his friends and allies.
"Going down, General." Vosil eschews his typical loquacity in this tense situation. His whip snakes out, lashing out at the thing's legs, aiming to bring it down and stop it getting away.
The Viscountess' head snaps up as the howl echoes over them. "Not far, then! Quickly, friends!"
Spurring Apple, Talia gives the horse's reins a jerk, and her steed sets off at a gallop towards Concord...
His city is in danger.
"Brekathar! Shykath! Imnos!" All at once, the three steeds and both Talia and Gavriil flash into a blur of motion, accelerating to impossible speeds, nearly doubling the speed of a normal animal.
But the beast recovers quickly, fangs flashing. Kundall's bite savages Edric's calf, tearing sinew and dragging the man down!
Your horses, quickened by Naralesh's magic, practically fly over the grassy plains. Surefooted and fast in the dark, they speed you towards the town...
Vosil's voice cracks like his whip as Edric falls prone: "Up, now, quick!"
Drawing on every ounce of guile, every little trick he has learned in a decade and more of fighting for his life, the Lore Warden flicks at the thing's eyes from a safe distance, trying to blind it.
Vosil frowns as he realises that this day has already taken more of a toll on him than he thinks it ought to have done. He's getting old, he realises - anything over 25 means the eyes start to fade, the reflexes dull; only slightly, but 'slightly' is more than enough to cross the line between living and dead...
Pathfinders never grow old. When he first heard it, he thought it was part of a longer saying; but it turns out to be sufficient unto itself.
He sighs, inwardly. "Let's get this finished."
Determined to arrive as prepared as possible, Naralesh chants another incantation. He spares a moment to reflect on how far his skills have progressed in wizardry, grateful that his intangible mage armor now lasts so long it has endured since the party's departure from Concord earlier in the night. To this arcane protection he adds an invisible shield.
Apple slows - momentarily - but Talia gives the horse a good lash and spur, silently apologizing to her steed as she does so. This was no time for kindness, however. Lives depended on Apple's quickness, as if the horse was more an extension of the Viscountess' own worry and desperation, rather than a separate living thing.
Kundall rolls to his feet, but he stumbles, opening an opportunity for Edric and Vosil to hit him! He unlimbers his greataxe and takes a blind swing.
Vosil swears as the fatigue prevents his attack landing when the werewolf gives him an unexpected opening.
Regrouping, he brings his arm back once more and flails his whip around the beast, snaring it and hindering its movement.
Gavriil, Talia, and Naralesh turn onto the street where the jail sits. They thunder up the lane, dimly aware of the battle in the moonlight up ahead.
Edric's blow takes Kundall full in the chest, shattering his ribs and rupturing organs. The werewolf slams into the door of the jail and slumps to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth and ears. Talia and her group arrive just in time to see the huge hybrid form of the Kellid man return to it's former self, broken and bloody on the streets of Concord.
A lone wolf howls far out away from Concord. The moonlight shines down on a ghastly scene, with Kundall dead and Sergeant Murton bleeding out. He lies in the street, head supported by Dregan, clutching at his innards as his breath comes in ragged gasps.
"Some <kaff!><kaff!> ...neat work....there <kaff!> milords..."
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"Damn it Sergeant - you aren't getting off duty this easily!" Edric drops his hammer, uncaring about anything but the man bleeding out a few paces away. The light emanating from him wanes as he channels it back through his hands, frowning in concentration as the light begins pouring into Murton's gut. He remains bent over the sergeant for some time, until his light winks out entirely and the man begins to breath more easily.
Only once he's convinced that Murton is going to survive does he stand and wave the guardsmen in. "Take him back to the barracks and make it clear he's off duty for a few days. There's only so much I can do and the body heals best when resting." Edric stoops to retrieve his hammer before turning to Vosil and clasping his arm firmly. "Thank you there Vosil. I wouldn't have lasted that fight without your whip. Next time, don't let me take my breastplate off!" It's only when his leg nearly buckles that Edric seems to realise he is still sporting a significant wound of his own. "Best take my own advice I think!"
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Vosil doffs his hat to Edric, giving a smile as he is still slightly too out of breath to say anything coherent. The memory of the star-lit paladin striking down the savage were-beast in the centre of their city will live with him a long time. He hopes.
Kneeling down by the body of the dead Kellid - now returned to human form - he pauses for a moment, unsure of what (if anything) he should say. Could it have gone differently? A few moments more and they'd have had him inside, safe to rage until morning - and then what? A trial? For whom? The man, or the wolf inside him? Which was truly guilty?
A memory strikes him, from earlier that day: a frightened, desperate man, warning his pursuers away, giving up the opportunity to ambush them in the dark. He nods, slowly. Perhaps he has his answer.
"May whichever gods you followed take you to your rest."
He remains kneeling by the body for quite some time.
Talia dismounts, handing Apple over to a nearby guard. Frowning, she pulls her cloak tightly over herself and walks slowly around the dead man. The Viscountess was surprised to find herself feeling little other than relief. No doubt there was a tragic story in the kellid's past, one that even a year before Talia would have been keen to uncover. Now, though, it was best that the accursed go quickly into an unnamed grave, and the histories of this horrific event state nothing more that than the government responded quickly and competently.
Only when Edric's man is taken away, does the Viscountess say anything, and only quietly enough that her inner circle can hear: "I only know the myth, but isn't a gravely wounded person likely to become a wolf himself?"
"It is the bite of the werewolf that inflicts its terrible curse," the elf says, looking to Edric, Dregan, and Vosil with a sharp glance. He keeps his voice low too - this is not a matter for outside ears. "Was the sergeant bitten?"
Talia closes her eyes and looks away, pinching her nose as she does so.
Breathing deep, she opens her eyes and turns back to Edric, worry plainly on the Viscountess' face. "I'm afraid, friend, the next full moon, you'll both need to be quarantined, if our healers can make no determination on infection..."
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Vosil redirects his attention away from the dead, and towards the living. "No doubt our High Priestess has the skill - and the power - to deal with this." He attempts to sound reassuring, but is wondering who he's trying to reassure.
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"We have less than an hour to find treatment." It was impossible not to hear the tone of concern - no, perhaps fear - in Naralesh's voice. "Edric and Sergeant Murton could both very well be infected. Dregan, Vosil - is there anywhere nearby that wolfsbane grows? It is a dangerous poison, but it is the only thing that can help either of them - it may kill the wolf and spare the man."