Downtown Druid

Dantes poured what was left of Gaspard’s healing potion over his knuckles, wincing as the bones in them resealed and the scrapes stitched together. He pocketed the other two potions that were left over, and patted the pocket he’d stored the wand Gaspard had used in. He couldn’t tell exactly, but it felt as if it had maybe two charges left in it. He’d also found a small handful of gold. Between all those goods, the satisfaction of killing Gaspard with his bare hands, and the information he’d gained, he’d say it had been a great evening overall.

He returned to Gaspard’s corpse, which was being devoured by rats and roaches. Only his face being left alone per Dantes' request.

Excuse me

The creatures parted at his warning as he grabbed ahold of the corpse and began dragging it through the house. He reached the front door and pushed it open to find that the slight drizzle had turned into a heavy downpour, thick dark clouds now obscuring the full moon he’d been able to see earlier in the night.

He appreciated the cover as he moved through the dark alleys until he reached the edge of a main street. It was clear, and the heavy rain was obscuring everyone’s vision who might have been nearby. He tossed the body into the sidewalk, and started walking back toward the Vixen, the gears of his mind cranking. He wanted the body to be found, he hoped that between Gaspard’s connection to Mondego, and the damage he’d caused to Pacha’s office, he’d stir up some general trouble that he’d be able to find some use for.

Not one of the few people out in the rain so much as glanced in his direction as he walked away from the corpse. Just another Mutt with his hood up in midtown. It was comforting, but he also missed the attention he’d received in the Pit. The glances, whispers, and parting of crowds as he moved through them. He’d savored that…and he’d taste it again.

He walked through the streets until his jacket was nearly soaked through, Jacopo muttering light complaints of incoming water. He was nearly halfway back to the Vixen when he felt a chill climb up his spine. Every single hair on his body began to stand on end, and his heart began to beat more quickly as his breath quickened.

“There’s a predator of some kind nearby,” sent Jacopo, crawling to sit on his shoulder, his head poking out next to Dantes’ own in the hood of his jacket.

“A mugger maybe? Some kind of street thug.”

Dantes was about to ask for clarification when a howl pierced the roar of the rain and shook him down to his soul. He looked around, with both his eyes and his senses. No one was on the side street he was walking through except for him, though he thought he saw a shifting shadow on a nearby rooftop, but it was gone before he could make sense of it. His other senses spread out gradually, and he quickly found that while there were still roaches aplenty, all of the smaller animals and birds were gone. He sent his senses out further, and felt a sudden intense pang in his chest, as if an icicle had been driven momentarily into his heart. He had to stop himself from breaking into a sprint and running.

He took a deep breath, and began to summon his will, sending roaches out in a search pattern from where he was as he walked. He started to gather rats and bats to rally to his aid as well, but he could feel a tangible resistance from them, as if their fear was overriding his will as he sent it to them. Still, he pushed and started to feel them approach.

Before his roaches could find anything, the beast that was following him made itself known. Dantes heard rapid wet footsteps approaching him from behind, and whirled around to the sight of a massive black shape in mid-air about to strike him.

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He was hit, and flew backwards skipping across the cobblestone street like a stone. He pulled his dagger from his belt and tried to stand, when a second creature, this time a dark gray, knocked him back down. Dantes had never seen wolves before. Dogs, certainly, strays lined the streets of Rendhold, but never wolves. Still, he had no doubt in his mind that’s what he was facing.

Dantes stayed down this time, reaching into one of his internal pockets as he pretended to be unable to stand. One of the wolves approached him cautiously, and once it was less than a yard away from him, he pointed just the tip of the wand he’d just looted from out from under himself, and sent his will through it.

A blast of white energy blasted the gray wolf. It barely managed to keep it from striking it in the snout, taking the blow to the shoulder instead.

Dantes rolled and stood up, aiming the wand at the other wolf and firing the last blast from it.

Forewarned by what had happened to its companion, the black wolf dodged the blast nimbly before lunging for Dantes.

With the wand drained, Dantes struck out with it wildly, managing to jam it in the wolf’s mouth, stopping it before it could clamp its jaws down on him.

Momentarily free of both wolves, he sent a surge of will through all of his marks, and sent everything he could at both of them. The rats, roaches, and bats that he’d been gathering all began swarming the wolves.

Dantes’ instincts were screaming at him to run while they were distracted. A kind of prey-like instinct in his gut telling him that fighting was a bad idea. He fought that down. The best way to address this problem would be to take care of it at that moment. He drew his dagger, and ran to the nearest wolf. He found himself letting out a kind of roar as he charged.

He buried the blade deep in the black wolf’s haunches and it let out a loud howl as dark blood began flowing from the wound.

Dantes felt the moment that the favor in each of his marks all emptied at nearly the same time. Making the vermin attack something that they feared like the wolves clearly cost far more favor than even having them attack humans.

Dantes left the dagger where it was, and started running away with the rest of the vermin. He became a rat to quickly scale a nearby building and began leaping from rooftop to rooftop, Jacopo clinging to his shoulder as he moved. It was hard work, sopping wet, but since he was out of offensive options, escape had become the focus.

He spared a few thoughts for why in the fuck he was being attacked by wolves in Midtown. They hadn’t even given him a chance to communicate with them. He couldn’t sense them, and now he was running from them for dear life. Was this something he’d missed in the last five years? Were street wolves a new menace no one had bothered to warn him about?

He heard howling, and the heavy thumping of paws behind him. He risked a look back to see both wolves leaping from rooftop to rooftop behind him. The black one, whose leg he’d stabbed just moments ago seemed completely unharmed.

He could feel himself getting exhausted. His limbs began to feel as if they were filled with lead, and he nearly slipped off of a particularly high rooftop. He pulled old shivs from each of his sleeves as he turned around on a particularly narrow rooftop. He’d make a stand on the edge. Only one wolf would be able to follow him one at a time, and if he could make it lose its footing it would fall down and die in the alley below.

He looked at the wolves, and realized they’d stopped moving. Black and grey, obscured by the rain, the wolves simply stood there. They weren’t looking at him, but rather the sky above him.

He looked up, to see the shape of a massive bird with a wickedly curved beak briefly silhouetted by a lightning strike. It dove toward him.

He ducked just before it hit him, and pulled up. When he looked behind himself where he expected to see it, in its place was a bear. Much like wolves he’d never seen one in person, but he had seen one's head mounted at an inn. This one seemed much bigger. It was completely white, with black eyes that matched the sky behind it and claws bigger than his head.

Dantes held up the shivs defiantly. “You… you’re druids right?”

The bear regarded him with pitch black unblinking eyes.

“Why are you doing this?”

The bear’s eyes seemed to glow, and Dantes felt in his mind a single command from it.

Sleep

He began to collapse, but held on slowly stepping toward the bear with the shiv’s raised.

SLEEP

It repeated. His eyes closed and he angled his fall with the shivs pointed, hoping they’d find a target before he lost consciousness.

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