Open Chronicles The Wolf and The Bat

[Ishar Morrad]

"I'm-." Ishar stopped for a moment, frowning as he delved into his own thoughts. He supposed that he didn't really need a reason. Monsters had been his business for the better part of a lifetime, whether it was vampires or mages...he'd been a Templar.

Her sort had always interested him.

The truth was though, this situation wasn't like that. He wasn't so blind that he couldn't recognize that. Fingers tightened at his side as he glanced at her, lips thinning. "I'm not sure."

He said calmly.

"A year ago I would have killed you." Ishar admitted quietly. "Now? Now II don't know."

 

[Rose]

She swallowed hard, a knot forming in her throat as she watched him. The tears were building up against the back of her nose, fear and dread lingering through her.

"Well that's inconvenient for me," she informed him, her voice tight. She studied him for a lingering moment longer before her eyes widened in abrupt recognition.

"...You've been bit?" She hazard her first guess, his conflicted expression one she knew all too well.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

For a brief moment a thought flashed through his mind. It was really more a temptation, a small moment of what he could have done. His sword buried in her chest, a cross carved into her forehead. She would have been an easy one, clearly young, not truly fallen to the hunger.

It was only a matter of time though. "Not by something like you."

Ishar answered quietly, looking behind himself to make sure that nobody else was listening. Talk like this would get you burned in most places, never mind just killed. Vampires and Werewolves were ancient myths, a piece of lore known around the entire world. For many they were all too real.

Best not to tempt fate.

He frowned for a moment again, and then spoke.

"I need to get out of the cold." Without another word he suddenly turned and began to walk away.

 

[Rose]

Her jaw dropped. "W-Wait."

He was- and she- and now-

She rocked in place for a moment before taking off after him with little thought. This could be another trap, she wagered. A way to get her guard down, or to lurer her into some dungeon lab. But she had never met anyone like her before. There was no way she could let a revelation like that slip through the cracks.

She chased after him, snow kicking up in her steps.

"You have? But you don't look sick!" She exclaimed, at his side.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

"Quiet." His whisper was a muted bark.

A man moved along the street just ahead of them, clearly minding his own business but more than aware of the only two other figures standing on the street. He shot them an odd look, though of course didn't say anything.

Ishar only frowned for a brief second.

"Things aren't always as they seem." Briefly, he glanced towards the skies. "Nor are other experiences the same as yours."

His certainly wasn't.

 

[Rose]

She fell silent at the order, her lips pressing together as she considered what he said.

She shivered for a moment, feeling the chill of the air without her cloak now.

"....Where are you going? What are you doing? How are you-" She looked around, less nonchalant than he.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

Ishar glanced back for just one moment. "Inside."

He made it sound obvious, gesturing towards the tavern.

The ex-Templar had rented a room for two nights, and he would be blasted from eternity if he was going to be leaving that behind. Spending the last three months in the wilds had given him a supreme need to be inside for once, not to mention the requirement of an actual feather bed.

Plus his things were there.

 

[Rose]

"Oh." She breathed.

Inside, that seemed safer. There were people and life and... it'd be harder to outright kill her in there. ...Right?

Unless they mobbed on her. Something she had yet to experience. Thankfully.

She walked in besides him, looking with baited breath around at the curious eyes that had seen their odd departure. "I, um, am sorry. For stealing from you," she mumbled, a slight bashful heat to her cheeks.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

Ishar waved his hand dismissively at her, apparently not really all that eager to talk about her thievery. He wasn't exactly sure why he'd gone after her, and then why he hadn't killed her upon learning what she actually was.

In an odd way he felt almost disgusted with himself.

"You need make up." Ishar grumbled the words quietly, lips thin. They would of course likely be a a complete surprise to her, in fact they were somewhat of a surprise to him. Yet it was a problem that had sprung to mind. Her illness was more noticeable than his own, especially during the day.

"Hide the pale of your skin." He explained to add context. "Otherwise you're too easy for hunters to spot."

Ishar had run across a vampire in the Blight who'd disguised herself as a proper lady. None of them had recognized what she was until her teeth had sunk into someones neck.

 

[Rose]

She blinked, double-taking up at him. "..." A shock indeed. One moment it felt as if he was about to kill her, the next...

She walked a little quicker, going up on her toes and peeeering at his features. "You're wearing makeup?" She mused, a grin cracking on her features.

It grew, wider and wider, childish and playfully mocking. She licked her thumb and tried to rub at his chin to glimpse this.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

Ishar grabbed her hand like it was a viper."Wouldn't help me."

It was obvious that Ishar had little in the way of a sense of humor. He had never been a man to smile even before his service in the Templar, and a life lived hard in the Blightlands had made that even more true. He'd never quite managed to find his softer side, a trait which had both garnered him loyalty...and pushed people away for most of his life.

"My plague doesn't work like that." At least he was pretty sure it didn't. Ishar could see no change in himself from before he was bitten. He looked more haggard, scraggly even, but he contributed that more towards his lifestyle rather than the wolf that hid within him. It was like with Vampirism, where one could see it on the skin and in the eyes.

He frowned briefly.

"Anyone with a trained eye can see what you are." He said quietly. "You need to throw them off."

Why did he even care? If she wanted to die she could die...this was none of his business, none of his doing.

Yet something pulled at him, though just what he could not explain.

 

[Rose]

The smile froze and faltered, her attention locking on the hand that held fast to her wrist.

"...Is that what you were?" She asked, yanking her arm away. "A hunter?" She was young, sure, but she wasn't stupid. If he was infected like her, then he was just as homeless as she was. It made sense. His appearance. Demeanor. ... Maybe even why he hadn't killed her yet.

For a brief moment she felt understood, even though nothing had truly been said between them.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

"Close enough to it." Ishar said, hand frozen on the door of the Tavern for a few moments. Templar weren't monster Hunters, not really. Some of their duties overlapped, but it was different. Hunters generally worked for pay, specifically targeted creatures.

Templar didn't. At least not always. The Blightlands made things difficult at times, they had to hunt...but it wasn't exactly their favorite thing to do.

"It was a different life." His fingers closed around the handle of the door. "Left in the past now."

His head shook. "Come on."

With a forceful press he stepped into the tavernagain.

 

[Rose]

She hesitated, glancing inside at the warm and life.

She could leave. She should leave. She gnawed on her lip, hesitating before glancing up at him and the arm that held the door open for her, welcoming her in. The last faint edge of her fangs pulled back.

She duck in, glancing behind her as the door closed.

She moved back towards her booth, half hoping he'd come there naturally with her. She was bursting with questions and prepared to force herself on him if they were otherwise left unquenched.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

The Halfling and the Orc whom he had been sitting with earlier were noticeably gone from their table.

Where they had gone Ishar had no idea, though their coats and things were no longer at the table either. A brief frown flashed over his face, head shaking for just a moment as he realized that it did not much matter. The two had been nice enough, but hardly friends.

After a moment more of lingering he grabbed the mug of ale that was still sitting on the table and followed after the girl to where she had made her perch in one of the booths.

A grunt escaped him as he sat down, finding that he had to squish himself slightly between the seat and the table.

 

[Rose]

She pulled on her cloak, shivering into it as he sat down. The hood plopped over her brown curls, casting a shadow over her face that only seemed to darken the longer it lingered. But the smile that grew as he joined her showed clearly, a burst of excitement in her gut.

She leaned forward on her elbows. "SO what are you then? Where are you from? What-What's even your name?" She asked quickly, not giving him a breather.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

"I am Ishar Morrad." He told her quietly, frowning for a moment. "I was born in the Blightlands."

A hellscape by many accounts.

Most people outside of the blight knew very little about his home, even less so about the people that lived there. Whenever it was mentioned the natural jump was to think only about Molthal and the creatures that thrived there. Ishar couldn't blame anyone for that of course.

It had consumed his mind for most of his life. "I am..."

He trailed off for a moment, unsure of what to say.

 

[Rose]

She raised a brow, leaning closer. "...That's okay," she allowed, speaking softly. "....I can't say it a lot either. I mean you're still you, you know. Well. Hopefully not the murdering part. " She grabbed her empty mug and brought it to her lips, pausing to frown down at its empty state.

"You're... done with the murdering part for reals though .... right? You're not.... gonna stab me when my back is turned ... ... right?" She asked, her voice small by the end of it all.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

"It wasn't murder." Was it?

He frowned briefly, shaking his head to banish questions of philosophy that he did not have any answers for at the moment.

"If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead." He didn't need his sword for that. "Don't worry."

Ishar realized that was hardly comforting, but he'd never been the sort that someone could run to when they were feeling down. Despite that what he'd said was true though, he wasn't going to kill her. Just why that was he didn't know either...but...she was the first other he had met since his change.

She wasn't a werewolf, but close enough to it to relate.

 

[Rose]

She crinkled her nose at him. "You ever have to go to a doctor for something painful?" She asked abruptly, with no explanation.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

He perked an eyebrow. "There are no doctors within a hundred miles."

Of here or anywhere he'd been for the last three months.

The Blightland had shamans and the like, Templar had medics, but Ishar was almost certain the last time he'd seen someone who'd called himself a Doctor was nearly a decade ago. They were rare out here. Perhaps more common in the big cities, but he wouldn't know about that.

"So no." He answered bluntly. "I have not."

 

[Rose]

She furrowed her brows at him. Seriously? After a moment she realized he was telling the truth. She rolled her eyes, sitting back. "Well there goes my metaphor," she complained.

"At any rate, I'm not sure if you're pacifying me or sincere. ... Would be a shame if you were lying," she told him, her lower lip sticking out ever so slightly as she frowned.

"You kill me and whose left to get you," she reasoned. Despite barely knowing his name.

 

[Ishar Morrad]

He blinked. "I'll meet my end in time."

Ishar seemed more than at peace with that fact, even if he couldn't bring himself to do the task on his own. He'd contemplated it a dozen times over the last few months, though each time he tried...he found his own strength lacking.

It was a source of shame, one so great he could hardly speak of it if asked.

"I am trying to help you." He said slowly. "I have...hunted things like you before."

His fingers tightened. Why was he bothering with this? Because she was like him? Because she seemed good? It could still all be a lie, but...he was good, so why couldn't she be? "Surviving will be difficult."

 

[Rose]

His reveal did not surprise her, though her knuckles did grow tense around the empty mug she still clutched. It was deeply unpleasant, everyone wanting her dead. It stung and ached and-

She blinked hard to keep the sudden biting tears at bay. Thinking about her circumstances never got easier. She cleared her throat. "....And how would you do it. If you were me. Survive, I mean."

 

[Ishar Morrad]

Ishar hesitated for a moment. Vampirism was a different animal entirely from being a werewolf. Her urges could be controlled, maintained. They were not dependent on factors outside of her control, nor could they be urged along by the phases of the moons.

He frowned, then slowly began. "Make up."

It was a silly thing, but true.

"Stay away from small villages and towns." The superstitions were stronger there. "Find an animal you can stand to...eat."

Using the word 'feed' would attract a bit too much attention. "Find an identity to hide under."