Fable - Ask Two Taboos

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"She was an inventor." He explained. The Term was something she had made up from what he could tell, at least that was what it had always seemed like to Jorg. A shrug rolled over his shoulders as if he was saying he didn't know.

The woman had been kind to him, treated some of the Wolf's wounds even. That had certainly been an...odd occurrence, but they had parted ways months ago.

"No." He shook his head. "That was another one."

The one that had infected him had been strung up by the band. "This one I met north of the Spine, nearer the Blightlands. He was a wanderer far as I could tell."
 
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Jorg

He wasn't answering her question. What she wanted to know if the woman he met was something other than a werewolf. Was it another monster? Another cursed being? Some other creature?

"No," she added, trying to emphasize what she meant. "Woman cursed too? Different creature?"

As for the second werewolf, "What of other werewolf?"
 
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"Oh.' Jorg said shaking his head. "No she was just a human."

At least he was pretty sure. They had spent nearly a month together and she'd never shown a hint of being anything else. A frown touched his lips, and then he shook his head. His nose would have caught the scent if she was something else, he was confident of that at least.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"He was an old man, an Orc. Our...well our meeting wasn't exactly conversational." Jorg could remember the encounter well.

"We met on the road." He explained. "He smelled what I was, transformed, then starting trying to kill me."

That was the first time he'd shifted during the day.
 
Jorg

The disappointment was pretty evident when he told her that the woman he had met was human. That wasn't interesting at all. He made up for it with the second tale.

"He transformed? No moons?" or was it on a full moon? She clearly wanted to learn more about the story.
 
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"No." Jorg said with a shake of his head. "No moon."

He was sure of that, he could still remember the feeling of utter shock that had rocked through him when it had happened. Of course that feeling had been nothing compared to when his own Wolf had forced him to transform as well.

Was that shocking?

A frown touched his face for a second, and he cocked his head. "I..."

Did he tell her? Jorg had a feeling that once she learned Taboo would try to dissect him into a million pieces to figure out the 'why'. Lips thinned, and then he continued.

"I don't need the moon either." He offered quietly.
 
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Jorg

Wait, no moon. Now she was equally as interested as she was concerned. In her experience with the Fullblood, they only did the change with the moon.

This was troubling if it was outside of those confines. What happened to cause it? A fluke? Or some sort of magic or alchemy?

Before she could continue, a startling new revelation came. That he could switch without the moon.

If there was any way to now staring at him with suspicion, it was then. Of course, how could she help it? Those she'd seen with the werewolf curse had been vicious, mad, creatures.
 
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Jorg seemed rather uncomfortable in the silence.

He looked at Taboo curiously, frowned for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders as though he expected her to say something else. When she did not he simply cleared his throat, looking up at the sky before back down at the fire.

"Right..." The Werewolf said softly.

"Not normal." Jorg commented. "Hasn't always been that way mind you, just...since the deal."
 
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Jorg

That he even admit that meant something, but it was hard for Taboo to not imagine that he could very well shift in front of her into a wolf.

She tucked her legs a little closer to her chest. "No moon. Ever?" she asked. So this was at will at any time?

If so, this was dangerous.
 
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"I need to be hurt." He told her. "Or in danger."

That was the catalyst he had discovered. He couldn't really do it at will, at least not that he knew. There had to be a reason, a point where the Wolf wanted to come out of his skin. Of course that didn't make it any easier to actually pull off.

It was still painful every time. "There's no transformations during the moon."

Not anymore.

The owl hooted again in the treeline.
 
Jorg

So there were specific triggers? That was curious.

Part of her wanted to test it out. To get something sharp and start poking at him to see if it happened -- from behind a proper iron cage of course. Dark thoughts, but it was the pragmatic side of her that she learned. One could only know the extent of these matters if they went out and tested it. Otherwise one would be left in the dark and everything would be heresay.

No transformation during the moon.

This, perhaps was a new type of cursed being? She continued, " Ever?" she had to make sure.
 
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He shook his head. "Not anymore."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders, and once again the owl hooted. He frowned, glancing over towards the creature and wondering why the hell it was still just sitting there. He didn't really understand it at all at this point.

"Used to." Jorg clarified. "Not for three years now though, not since we made the deal."

Something he still could not quite explain either.

Another argument for why the Wolf was...well if not intelligent then at least self preservative. At least that was his leading theory.
 
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Jorg

Things were making less and less sense. There had to be something different about him. Why was he like this? That avid curiosity in her chest to place him in one of the iron cages and figure it out began to burn.

Ugh. If her leg wasn't hurt and she had the toxins to knock him out! Was it a bad idea? Maybe, but she couldn't help her natural curiosity.

"Curse pulled by moon. No moon... strange." she murmured more to herself than to Jorg. As it was, there wasn't much she could do about it.

And if he could switch at anytime this would be bad for her if the wolf decided to.
 
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"I don't know." Jorg said as she shrugged his shoulders.

He didn't really understand the curse in the first place, never really had. No one had been able to explain it or give him any details. There was a good reason for that of course. Studying Werewolves was dangerous business, often fatal.

Those brave enough to try were often not long for this world. "As far as I'm aware there's nothing special about me."

Just as he said the words Jorg felt an odd tingle on the side of his head. The Tattoo on the side of his skull seemed to itch, and he gently reached up to scratch it, frowning slightly as he looked over at Taboo with a shrug.
 
Jorg

The Half-Drow shook her head from side to side vehemently. "No. Different. Not same. Cursed pulled by moon. Always. I see." she told him flatly.

It was a curious scenario.
 
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Jorg frowned for a moment, lips thinning. "Look, I don't know about all that."

He was a werewolf, he was sure of it.

"It was originally the moon but hasn't been for a while." Hand ran over the tattoo on his head again, frowning for a moment as he drew his palm back down and rested it on his knees with a heavy shrug of his shoulders. "That's all I know."

All he cared to know. "As long as it stays that way I don't particularly care."

Helped keep his life more organized, that was for sure.
 
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Jorg

So wait, it had been the moon at first. Now he was confusing her. There had to be something that triggered the change in between. The more he spoke about it the more she wanted to narrow it down and figure out what it was.

A thought came to her. Perhaps she could take him back to the cavern and find out more...

Tempting... but... how to trap him?
 
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She went quiet.

So he went quiet.

Some people might have considered it awkward, and Jorg was most definitely one of them. He had grown up in a city as a Prince. There had always been sound, always been noise, always been something else. Now that he was in the woods in the quiet?

He didn't like it. Even when he was by himself he always talked. "So..."

Jorg began.

"Get around much?" Clearly she had to if she was a hunter.
 
"No." Not above ground at least. Taboo knew very well how others perceived her kind to be. Which is why she kept to the underground around the place the Fullblood hermit had called home to his experimental lair.

"Underground." she added, giving him that much. "Hunt maybe. Track yes."
 
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"Hm." Jorg said quietly. "Never been to the Underdark before."

For good reason.

Though he knew well that the tunnels stretched far beneath the Wilds and even beyond, Jorg also knew just how damned dangerous they could be. He had heard a dwarf speak of them once, and the horrors there sounded almost as bad as the darkest depths of the Wilds.

Better to stay above ground. "I prefer to see the sun."

He could practically feel the Wolf's skin crawl at the prospect of going into those caverns.
 
Jorg

Prefer to see the sun? That prompted a loud "tsk" from the Half-Drow, as if the thought of it was pure misery.

"Why? Humans hunt. No think. Act." there was a heavy dose of prejudice and bigotry bleeding from her voice. Ironic considering her situation and her own acts of hunting down the Wi'tigo herself.
 
"Humans aren't the only thing in the sun." He chided her quietly.

Through his travel Jorg had met elves, Dwarves, Trolls, hell even passed through a few orc villages who had taken him in. Surprisingly, the latter two had been far more welcoming to him than the former two, something he'd always found funny.

Perhaps it was because they knew what it was like to be judged. "Besides.'

He said with a wave of his hand.

"You realize your...sort..." How else was he supposed to refer to them as. "Doesn't have much of a better reputation up here?"
 
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Jorg

A singular brow rose at Jorg's commentary, those twin pairs of red irises staring at the werewolf. She was well aware of the bad reputation.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave a shrug. "Stupid humans. " as those were the ones she normally had to deal with trying to kill her.

That the Fullbloods were no different wasn't mentioned. But what would Jorg know? "Fear what not know."
 
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"Stupid Drow." He countered. "Slaughter what they don't understand."

Jorg had heard the stories, seen the work done by her people. It was...well gruesome to say the least. There was a reason most people feared to tread in the underdark, a reason that most people chose to stay away. That was not entirely on the Drow, but close.

Some said the Underdark was more dangerous than Ixchel.

"Generalizing is bad." He told her with a wag of his finger.

"My father always said that." The Duke of Mallian was a wise man, and one not prone to judgement. "Take people as they are, not by what they are."
 
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Jorg

Now why was this cursed one wagging his finger at her? It annoyed her. Her eyes would narrow further and she would twist her expression into a tight face. Never mind his rationality.

“Both same.” Then again to Taboo, it was more of a self fulfilling prophecy.
 
He shook his head. Perhaps her life experiences simply did not allow her a view outside of her own. Jorg could understand it, he had been chased out of more than one village for a reason or another. Lips thinned and he took in a breath.

"You'd be surprised." Was all Jorg could say with a shrug of his shoulders.

Lips thinned for a brief moment as the owl hooted once more. It was still there, though why he couldn't really have guessed. "You just have to..."

How did he put this.

"Sometimes you just have to give people a chance." Sometimes anyway.
 
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