There were several in the battle, men and women alike were fighting for their forest against another group of what seemed to be their enemy. She stalked in the shadows as much as she could, the brightness of the sun for this world was different than she was used to, however it would not impede her progress. She spotted a rather large tree that seemed to be well guarded by one of the two groups, the humans had shouted to protect the “heart of the forest” against their enemy as they closed in onto it. She stalked toward it, gaining ground unnoticed, except suddenly she felt a twitch of one of her wings, which stopped her in her track and made her look back. Instead of seeing both of her wings made of bone and chitin, she only saw one full wing, and another stump, with the man from before holding both his blades out before him. The remaining part of her wing upon the floor with no hint of blood or pain to be seen or heard.
“Oh dear,” he gleefully announced with a strange cackle, “it looks like you are missing something.” A smile played upon his face as his eyes glowed red-orange, “Let me cut the rest up so it’s more manageable!” As she was turning to face him, he suddenly launched a flurry of attacks slicing into her several times as she attempted to block with her arms and other wing. Each time the blade would open more wounds, it would somehow also drain her energy all the while he constantly closed the distance between them. She pushed him back with her wing forcing him off balance. But was he off balance? The push hardly phased him as he used the force to attack at a different angle, the blade easily slicing through the fingers of her other wing. She fell backward at the force of his weapon, completely covered in cuts and sliced wounds where there wasn’t any chitin armor to protect. She noticed an open vial at his feet as he drenched the blade in the strange substance. She could smell it, and it distinctly had the smell of death acrid with the warp she knew so well.
Upon gazing into his eyes, there were whispers and dark incantations swimming throughout her conscious mind. While he had her in a trance, he used the rest of the liquid from the vial and forced her to fall asleep. He sliced through parts of her legs and arms and the base of each wing with the liquid-drenched blade. As she lay there unconscious and scarred, he realized how interesting it was that not a drop of blood had spilled onto his blade, or anywhere out of her body. Furthermore, he could see the skin regenerating before his eyes, the wings were returning to what they had looked like before and the cuts and scars were closing at the same speed as the wings emerging. While admiring the creature, he suddenly realized the forest was strangely quiet, and the allies he had befriended from before were no longer guarding the massive tree. A twig betrayed its stalker and made Veron snap behind him, and then back track quickly as two blades were jesting for his head.
The attacker, clothed in all black with a hood concealing his countenance, slowly closed in onto the creature Veron had put to sleep. Sensing a strange feeling of possession, he forced the attacker back, watching as the attacker was now back tracking to avoid his blades. At one-point Veron’s blades had easily deflected and removed the stalker’s blades completely with both of his aimed easily at his throat. He was panting, and knowing defeat; both his blades tossed aside and incapable of retrieving them safely.
“Who are you?” Veron asked, realizing he could easily read into his mind, he then was suddenly shut out as though the stalker knew of his intrusion.
“It’s none of your business, I have come for her. She was meant to be mine,” he angrily voiced, his hood fell down before him. He looked strangely familiar, yet his face beheld many scars and reminders of a brutal past. Instinctively, Veron redoubled his position as the stalker attempted an escape, the blade cutting into his neck slightly, drawing a bit of blood as he did so. It was then suddenly the man was no longer between his blades, but a strange force pushed him back without knowing the origin, and the stalker had his blades once again. Confused over where the sudden change came from, Veron ignored the man briefly as his blood staining his blades seemed to entice him for a taste. Licking off the droplet, he felt a strange surge of power course through him, making him cackle maniacally bringing with it a forceful attack which sent the stalker back tracking almost terrifyingly. Veron attacked with such force, he eventually broke through the man’s blocks and sliced open his right arm.
“Oooh, more blood for me,” Veron exclaimed, seeing the man’s face contort with disgust and fear which led the stalker to flee as quickly as he could. As the stalker left, he could hear Veron yelling back at him, taunting him to come back to play more. Ignoring him he disappeared with an angry grimace beyond the forest veil. Apparently, his yelling enticed Damian to investigate, as he stumbled into Veron from behind, coming to check on the battlefield that had happened before, a small group of swordsmen were following him.
“Ah, there you are. What have you found,” Damian asked, sheathing his blade and then realizing what was on the floor beside him. He took a moment to realize what it was, then watched Veron for a response.
“This was what was summoned by Haute, and apparently she’s mine now, according to his word,” Veron explained, picking up the creature. She seemed strangely light weight.
“I’m sure he has something else in store for you, he doesn’t just give things for free. At least that’s my experience with him,” Damian commented, taking a step back as Veron moved passed him toward the exit of the forest. Damian and his swordsmen followed Veron out, gazing carefully into the shadows to ensure no one was following them as they left.
Once they came upon the Order of the Rose garrison, the trees unveiled the sun which seemed to sleepily laze along the horizon, ready to sleep. Veron looked back at Damian while the rest of the party dispersed.
“I need a cage or some form of chains to transport her back home to examine her further. Do you happen to have something that will work for her,” Veron asked, the creature still unconscious upon his shoulders. Damian paused a moment, looking at the creature. He then beckoned Veron to follow him.
Damian led Veron into the garrison where the wounded were being gathered as well, medics and priests were tending to everyone they could. Eventually he came unto a storage room which held several pieces of equipment, including a strange looking human cage.
Looking back at Veron, Damian paused before commenting, “Please… don’t ask where we got this or even how. I was thinking about throwing it out, just because we have had no use for it.”
Examining it briefly, Veron smiled which seemed a strange given the circumstance, “It’s perfect.”