Post by Morec0
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Gilnean Moon (Part 8). ))
Krista sat on the balcony of Greymane Manor, rocking back and forth in one of the chairs as she continued to think. It had been a number of days, but she was still no closer to a resignation one way or another about what had happened on the road here. What kind of person was she? A noble of Gilneas, that was much certain, but what did that mean? That she was rich and so had the right to do as she saw fit to ensure her own prosperity and ease of living? That she had an obligation to the people of Gilneas to set her own needs aside and make sure they live in contentment?
She rubbed her temples. There was only one thing she was certain of; that her brother and those two people had been transformed into worgen. Krennan had recently revealed a project of his, a potion that he had been working on for some time that, supposedly, could partially free the mind of the infected humans from the curse of the worgen. They had tested it on a few specimens captured by hunters, and it had been met with mixed results. Krennan was confidant, however, that not only could he improve upon it to be more successful, but he could make it so that it completely reversed and removed the curse.
If her brothers were still alive… then maybe there was hope. She knew where they would have gone; home. Back to the Jeret Manor. The same direction in which the transformed soldier and woman had gone…
There were other reasons that she believed them to be there as well. She had promised a number of worgen hunters that, should they bring back a worgen that looked like the one Ivan had turned into, she would pay them graciously. So far none had been able to, and all of the hunters that had informed others they were going to her Manor home had never returned, along with a handful of others that never made it clear where they were going of course.
No, she though, the hunters were getting nothing done. But what could
she do?
She clenched a fist and found herself finally resolute in a decision.
She could do what she
should have when this whole mess began.
“King Greymane,” Krista said, walking into the laboratory where he, Krennan, and Godfrey were discussing some matter, “I wish to take a platoon of soldiers outside of the wall to search for my brothers.”
King Greymane and the others turned to face Krista, surprised to see her here. She was not taken aback by their reaction; she had been keeping to herself for most of this time since arriving here. For her to appear so suddenly and with so much confidence, which she had also been lacking lately, was likely an interesting change for them.
“Lady Jeret,” Lord Godfrey said. “While your reasons for wanting to go outside of the walls with the forces you request are admirable, you must understand that we have people on the outside already doing what they can. Putting more lives in danger will not speed up that process any.”
“Well it certainly can’t slow it down,” she replied somewhat harshly. “While the hunters
have brought back a number of infected to be cured, they’ve not proven themselves to be much good at finding specific people.”
“And you believe you are, Lady Jeret?”
Krista glared at him. Ever since the worgen invasion, Godfrey had become more and more aloof and critical, even of his fellow nobles. Had she not practically isolated herself from most everyone else after reaching Duskhaven she might have understood why a bit more. “Yes,” she said resolutely. “I do.”
“You will have the troops you wish to, Lady Jeret,” Greymane said.
Godfrey almost snapped his neck as he spun to look, flabbergasted, at his king. “Milord…,” he tried to say, only to have Genn cut him off.
“My decision is final!” Genn replied with the same authority Krista had heard during Crowley’s trial, but she had not heard it since. And while grateful for his vouching in her favor, she would not understand why.
She could not read Greymane’s mind, but going through it right now was the fact that he had been bitten by the worgen as well. That he was the same kind of creature Krista’s brother Ivan and most likely her brother Blaine, had become. And if he had not been able to keep his sanity, if he had become a wild beast like so many others, than he would have wanted his family to look for him as well.
Light knows he would have stormed out through the gates by
himself to look for any of them.
Krista was already gone, leaving with a grateful “thank you, milord,” and polite curtsy that Genn had returned with a nod. Greymane turned to see a frowning Godfre looking him straight in the eyes. “You might have just killed her, you know?”
Genn did know, but he also knew she could take care of herself.
Krista had handpicked forty seven soldiers from those currently off-duty at the time she had arrived at the Duskhaven barracks. At least seven of them she recognized of members of Ivan’s barracks that had been transferred some time before her brother and his fellow Gilnean soldiers had been sent to their deaths. She and these soldiers had walked through the gates, opened just enough for them to pass through, and proceeded down the road that northward, to her home. The gates had been closed behind them quickly to ensure no worgen made it through.
She had always taken a carriage – or in her last trip, a horse – to and from the manor, so she was surprised by how long the walk up into the manor was. They had been walking for at least a while and still could not see so much as the roof of it.
All the while they kept their eyes open for any signs of worgen. Most of the creatures stayed down in the swamps, and seemed to be retreating further and further into the Blackwald. Most worgen hunters never went that far in, it would be too easy to sink into the murk or be ambushed by one of the beasts in there. And of course there were old legends about witches, vampires, werewolves and other such creatures. Of course, given the recent outbreak of worgen, Krista wondered if more of those “legends” had truth to them.
Finally the sight of Jeret Manor greeted them. But that was all. Simply the building, no sign of any creatures around.
Krista’s heart sank like a stone thrown in the Great Sea. She had been so sure that at least Ivan would be here. But there was no one, not a single worgen in sight let alone her brothers.
“Milard,” one of the soldiers said. “Are you alright?”
“No,” Krista replied somberly. “I’m not.”
She and the soldiers stood in silence for several seconds, only the sounds of birds and the breeze breaking the silence. Finally she decided that if she had come all this way she would not leave empty handed. There were still books of hers and other personal property she could take back with her. “I’m going to search the house,” she said. “There are things in it that I need to get. Stay outside or come in if you want to.”
Almost all of the guards went in with Krista, and about half of them split off from the main group while the rest continued to follow Krista to ensure no harm came to her. She reached her room quickly and began to put as many of the books and portraits she had into the knapsack she had used while studying in Dalaran.
She sighed as she looked at one in particular. It was one their parents had paid for while they were still alive, a family portrait. Of course, this was just a smaller copy of the larger one, which they decided to leave in their parents’ room – a room which they had left the same way and not entered since their death. She sighed; she had come to terms with their deaths a long time ago, even if it had taken her many years. She wondered if it would take her nearly as long to get over the loss of her brothers, whom she decided, wether alive or dead, were likely nowhere within a hundred miles of this place.
And then they were. Along with the whole of the pack.
They burst out of the doors all around the manor, having been hiding and waiting to surprise the humans the moment they had caught their scent drift up into the mountains. Those that did not burst out directly on top of the soldiers rush to attack the nearest group. Those that had followed the Lady Jeret were being torn limp of limb, barely able to make a direct attack against the quick, agile worgen with their swords and unable to use their rifles effectively at close range. Krista did not know what was happening to those that had split off from the main group, but if they were fairing as well as those soldiers she was with none of them would be left alive.
“Lady Jeret!” one of the soldiers said, barely able to fight back a large black male worgen as he spoke, “run! We shall hold them off until you’ve escape!”
Krista nodded and ran for the window. Before she could reach it one of the worgen broke through the ranks of the soldiers and bounded towards her, leaping at her after a few seconds of running. She dropped to the ground and the beast went flying overhead, smashing through the window.
With the worgen outside going through the window would be suicide, but so was her only other option; attempting to go through the door and fleeing down the hallway. But panic clouded her judgment and she ran for the door, slipping past the soldiers by hugging the wall and then sprinting down the hallway.
By the time she reached the entrance hall, seeing that the soldiers whom had been waiting outside had rushed in, likely when they heard the commotion, and were engaged with another group of worgen just a few beasts smaller than the one behind her. She looked up to the stop of the stairs and there saw a large brown-furred worgen she knew all too well.
Ivan! she thought. That was him! She
could save him! But first she needed to rescue the soldiers so she could get her help.
She blasted two away with an arcane spell, knocking them through the walls of the manor and knocking them out – or killing them, either way she didn’t care. With another spell she incapacitated the worgen that were attacking the other soldiers. “Soldiers! Take that one alive!” she yelled, pointing at the one that was her brother. They rushed up the stairs to do just that.
The brown furred worgen… laughed? Krista knew it had been Ivan, but that laughter was not just some imitation of something it must have heard within its mind. It was real. But… the worgen was just a beast? A beast imprisoning her brother within its own mind.
But as the stairs gave way, their supports weakened so they could only support the weight going up it for so long, and the soldier fell, striking their heads in a way that either killed or knocked them out cold, and Krista realized she had been a fool to leave. These were not animals controlling bodies that were once human, these were something else entirely.
She spun around, seeing a white-silver worgen behind her that looked her straight in the eyes. Its eyes were a wise-grey color, but there was a look in them that she recognized.
“
Blaine,” she whispered, her lips trembling with fear. There was a thud behind her as the worgen that had been Ivan jumped down from where it had been standing at the top of the now-ruined stairs and landed behind her. Before she could spin around to face it, it sank its fangs into her flesh. It infected saliva and blood from a wound sustained in battle against the group which had split off poured into the wound it made before it pulled its fangs away.
Krista screamed in pain but fought through that pain and managed to cast one final arcane spell that sent the two beasts flying backwards. She began to run for the door, but her strength faded and her temperature rose beyond anything she had felt before. She sank to her knees as her legs buckled and the last of her hopes diminished, realizing what had happened.
Agony shot through her body and she placed her hands against her face, feeling it grow into the shape of a dog’s muzzle and fur begin to sprout all over it. “My… my face!” she said, pulling her hands away to look at them. They two were changing, growing longer and becoming covered with the same black fur that was growing all over the rest of her. “My h-hands. No, no,” tears streamed down her face, and she let out one final cry of pain and sorrow, “NO!”
The change completed, and the woman that had once been Krista Jeret began a savage beast with night-black fur and rage-filled red eyes. The female worgen snarled, staying on all fours as it sniffed around for food.
Bloodhowl and Painfang had not been severely hurt by Krista’s final magical attack, and had watched the whole transformation. The white worgen looked at its brother. “Our sister,” he said, not asking, just saying what he felt, what he knew, about her.
The brown-furred worgen nodded. “Our sister,” he said, feeling and knowing the exact same thing. “
Blackbite.”