From the Storm
Tale By Mercuryknight
Ambrose is copyright his player: Ariana. Angelina is copyright her player: Kamiki. Merc and Kriel are copyright their player: Mercuryknight.

Ramion is copyright his player: Ramion. Somuria is copyright her player: Mousira. And Phire is copyright his player: Phire.

Edited/Collaborated by Mousira

Chapter 1
The Coming

he wind howled furiously as the rain pelted down upon the house within the grand estate. The sky was unnaturally dark. Lightning slashed and thunder rumbled across the black sky, while the fireplace within the sitting room of Ambrose and Angelina flickered with a slight draft from the chimney. Shadows danced along the walls giving them a slightly scary and haunting look.
Ambrose, sitting in his armchair, gently pushed his long blonde hair out of his eyes. Reading documents on purposed strategies for his Musketeers, he ignored the shadows and their haunting movements. Seeming to find a particularly interesting document on a very good defensive position, he relaxed further into the chair to read. Hearing the door open he looked up to see his wife enter, her nightgown gently swaying upon her body. Her smile as she spoted him widens and she makes her way to him.
A flash of lightning interrupts her; visibly she shivers for a few seconds. Getting up, Ambrose placed the documents on the table, straightened his white shirt and brushed his pants down before making his way to her.
“Is everything alright my dear? You seem shaken; the storm isn’t scaring you is it?” He said as he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her gently next to him. “I am sure it will pass soon.”
Hugging her husband close as she buried her face in his chest and looked up at him, her smile not as bright as it was earlier. “The kids are finally in bed, and we can be alone for awhile.” Lighting flashed again outside and the thunder sounded extremely close. She shivered again, feeling something strange from the lightning outside. “My love, the storm has a strange energy to it. It feels… unnatural.” She hugged him closer, feeling safest within his arms.
“Well nothing can hurt us here; remember all the Dark lords have been defeated. I’m sure it’s nothing.” He smiled a loving smile at his lovely Angelina. “Come let us go to bed, I’m sure the storm will pass soon….”
A loud bang sounded with a crash as the balcony door smashed open. A lone figure in black stood there, his eyes glowing a shallow red as his hand stretched forward to grasp something. Feeling Angelina start to pull away, Ambrose tightened his hold on her and growled at the lone figure. The figure began to move closer as five shadows erupted from the balcony and headed straight for Ambrose. Struggling against the shadows as they grabbed onto his legs and arms to pull him away, he could feel his grip on Angelina begin to loosen. As the shadows tugged with a combined blast of strength, Angelina was torn from his arms and he fell to the floor. Looking up at the assailant, a deep growl escaped his throat as he fought to stand.
“Ahhh, the great Ambrose. It is a pleasure to meet you finally. The Dark lords have told me so much about you and your merry band.” Hearing a soft muttering, the figure looked down at Angelina sitting near his feet. With a swift gesture, her eyes went wide, then closed as sleep overtook her. Pulling back his hood, a face of dark skin and lavender eyes stared coldly down at Ambrose’s prostrate form. His tall pointed ears poked through long white hair that fell down along his shoulders. “I have come for something dear to you.” His eyes seemed mad with glee and the smile on his face denoted his insanity. “You will only have one chance to save her.” He bows to Ambrose mockingly and laughs again “And that is because I’m such a nice guy.”
Reaching down, the figure wrapped an arm about Angelina’s waist and lifted her. Turning his back on Ambrose, he took a few steps towards the balcony before stopping to look over his shoulder. “By the way, my name is Kriel, it was a pleasure to meet you Ambrose.” Kriel then walked out on to the balcony the rain still pelting down as hard as it was before. Stepping off the balcony into a cloud of dark mist, Kriel and Angelina disappeared from sight. It was the last thing Ambrose saw as the mist spread out towards him and engulfed him in a deep sleep.

Chapter 2
The Beginning of a Hunt

mbrose awoke from the sleep that held him all night. His eyes blurry and his senses groggy he stumbled to get up off the floor. His mind was trying to take in everything from last night. As he climbed to his feet, one image stuck deep in his mind. Angelina… Turning to look about the room, his resolve stiffened and he knew what he must do. Moving to his chair, he reached down beside it to grab his sword. Its platinum hilt glinted in the morning sun that shone through the broken balcony door. Looking over the sword he had named Imperion he noticed nothing wrong. Its obsidian pommel still donned the heraldic wolf heads and the Musketeer symbol still visible on the base of the blade. The enchanted steel still shone brightly. Nodding to himself, he tied the scabbard about his waist as he turned to look for his uniform.
His mind could not stop thinking about Angelina and what the fiend named Kriel could have done to her. Ambrose tried to focus as he felt his hair matted to his face and neck from the ordeal of last night, looking to the nearest mirror he looked into his own clear blue eyes and saw the worry and love that he felt for his beloved. Finding the box with his uniform, he pulled off his nightclothes and began putting on the clothes he’d worn to every battle throughout his life. As the tabard was pulled on, he looked back in the mirror. The royal blue tabard with it’s silver trim and white-silver star-cross seemed to frame his face, which was still showing very acute signs of his worry and fear for Angelina. Calming himself slightly, he pulled his hair back into his tight ponytail and took up his hat. Making sure the long feather was still in good condition, he placed the hat on his head and tapped the front of it up and to the right. Looking about the room once more, he tried to see if anything was left behind to give him a clue of where this kidnapper could have gone too. The only clue he had was the shadows that held him. Thinking back, he realized they had a slight lycanthrope shape to them, if they were not actually lycans themselves.
Looking out the door cautiously he glanced about for one of their servants. Seeing the butler down the hall, he beckoned him to him as he stepped out of the room.
“Yes, sir?” The butler bowed and kept a cool composure, though he could tell something bothered his master, but was ill considered to ask.
“Yes. No one is to disturb Angelina until I return. Not even yourself. I have to go out for a bit and find something. She doesn’t want anyone in to see her until my return.” Looking straight into the butler’s eyes, he could see his demand unnerved him slightly.
“I… See, Sir. I shall let no one in at all.” He bowed again and placed himself beside the door. Looking at Ambrose he nodded and stood still watching the area for anything out of place. Ambrose saluted the man, having complete faith in the retired Musketeer who had offered to serve as his and Angelina’s butler.
Ambrose started down the stairs to head out to the village. The people Ambrose had met in his travels who had been cursed by the same thing as himself had come to live here when he and his wife took up residence in the keep. Knowing the village elder he had appointed, he decided he might know something about renegade Lycanthropes, if they were such, and gain a lead through him. His bearing and walk made it an open fact he did not want to be bothered as he made his way into the village heading for the Elder’s home. Coming up to the door he knocked on it three times and waited for the elder to open it.
As he lifted his hand to knock again, the door opened and a man in a silver cloak and hood made his way out. As he passed Ambrose, he caught a slight glimpse of the man’s skin. It was pale, toned to be almost moon-like. The man just glanced at Ambrose and he caught a sight of his forest-green eyes. The man continued on past Ambrose and moved behind him. Ambrose looked back and could not find any sight of the man. He was about to turn completely to look when a soft footstep in the Elder’s door directed his attention there.
“Ahh, Ambrose it is a pleasure to see you on this fine day. What brings you to my humble abode?” Ambrose pushed past the elder, not wanting to get into any long discussions, looking back at the elder as the door closed behind him. “Is there something wrong Ambrose?”
“Yes, there is…. But you’re not to tell anyone.” Sitting down for a second knowing he hadn’t done so since last night, he collected his thoughts before continuing. “I need to know if you have heard of any renegade bands roaming around here. They might be hiding somewhere with someone that seems very dark and is not of this world.” Sighing, he looked back up at the elder and waited for him to respond.
The elder walked over to his fireplace and took a pipe off the top of it. Considering it, and finally giving a small shake of his head, he then placed it back. “Well, as you well know. I keep some people on the look out for such groups and when we do find them we keep an eye on them.” Looking back at Ambrose his eyes seemed a bit worried. “We believe, as of just two days ago, a band of twenty took up residence in an abandoned estate on the east side of Paris. Some three miles outside of the city.” Sitting down across from Ambrose, he looked into his eyes. “There seems to be something scaring away a lot of things from the estate. From rodents to smaller critters… Even some bugs have decided it wasn’t safe. I also haven’t heard from the man I posted to keep an eye on them since last evening. So I do believe they are not on a friendly journey. One bit of news that did come to me was that they seemed darker than the average lycan.”
Ambrose thought about this for a few moments taking in everything he said. Twenty lycanthropes would be a little too much for his musketeers but he couldn’t let them know Angelina was captured. “Does anyone else know this information?” Ambrose looked at the elder as the elder nodded.
“The man who left just before you came in. You must have seen him at the door. He asked if I knew anything about a band of lycanthropes being lead by a Drow. I do not know what a Drow is Ambrose, and when I asked he said something I would never want to encounter. Especially this one, said he.” Looking even more worried he looked at Ambrose for an answer.
“Don’t worry about it my friend I shall deal with it this evening. Did the man who left give you a name and where he was staying?” Ambrose said as he rose to start for the door.
“Yes. He told me his name was Merc and he is staying at Le Fleur Bleu Inn.” The elder got up as well to see Ambrose to the door. “Do take care, Ambrose. We would rather not lose you. I… we, as a people, would be lost without you.” He bowed to Ambrose as Ambrose bowed his head in return.
“Do not worry my friend, everything shall be well. I will deal with these renegades before they can cause too much more of a mess.” Having been thinking about Angelina the whole time he was there he knew that this group could be dangerous if left unchecked. He also knew he had only one chance to save his beloved. He made his way out the door and towards Paris and Le Fleur Bleu Inn.

Chapter 3
A Mind of Madness

pening her eyes, Angelina could see nothing. Total darkness. No light or any other features to give her eyes focus. Thoughts began to race through her head wondering if he had blinded her. This man; Kriel, had plans for her. But he had slipped up on the way to where ever she was at. She had woken and heard him mutter something about her blood and it being able to bring the Dread Lords back into this world. She could feel the cold steel of bindings around her feet and wrists and gave a small shudder. Trying again to find something in the darkness to focus on, she gave a gasp as tiny red orbs began appeared. As she focused on them, thankful she still had sight, she could hear slight footsteps. From the way they got louder, and from the slight growth to the orbs, she could tell whatever it was; it was moving closer. Her head rose to watch the orbs until they stopped just before her. Trying to tap into the powers of the earth, she would have cried out in alarm from their absence if she hadn’t been so scared to attract whatever it was.
Lights turned on, and she found herself face to face with her kidnapper. His smile was wide and had a very mad look to it. This image was further supported by the small dagger in between his teeth, held close enough to lightly cut one side of his mouth to allow a tiny trickle of blood to roll down his chin. She realized the orbs she’d seen were actually his eyes as they faded to their normal lavender hue. He stared at her eyes, daring her to look away from him. His gaze was cold and heartless, making her skin crawl. Bowing his head slightly, he tossed his head back and let the dagger fly up. Throwing one arm back, he allowed his body to follow, doing a flip through the air. Midway, as the dagger began to fall back down, he struck out with the heel of his left foot and kicked the dagger with enough force to have it strike into the wall just a few millimetres from Angelina’s ear.
As he came to his feet, Kriel sighed and shook his head. "Aww, I missed.... Too bad, I was aiming for your ear. You Fey need to lose those slight tips. Pathetic creatures like yourself should never try to imitate those who are your better." Running a finger along his ear, he stopped at the tip and tapped it a couple of times before running the finger back down, taking the time to feel each magically imbued piercing. "I have never liked Fey.... or Elves in general. Living with you pitiful creatures makes me sick to my stomach. Drow should not go through with such… foolishness." Turning his back on her, he stalked towards a high backed chair.
Taking the moment to look about, Angelina took in the shape of the room. While it was a typical rectangular room, there were a few oddities to it. No windows or tapestries lined the walls, but instead, many shadow-like werewolves did. The stiff poses and from the look of it, lack of breathing made them seem more statuesque than anything. Four more bracketed the chair in the front and centre of the room. She tried to say something, and stopped as no words came out of her mouth. Shaking her head, she tried to struggle against the bonds. After a moment, a thought came over her. The chains were not rattling, no matter how much she shook them. She knew she was not deaf, as she could hear the light tapping of Kriel’s fingers on the arm of the chair, but otherwise, she didn’t know what was causing it. Falling back against the wall, she let her head roll back and gave a silent gasp. Above her floated a round pink creature with one large grey eye, and many little stalks above it with similar, but differently coloured eyes. It was then she knew she was held under the gaze of a Beholder.
Glancing up at the throne, she began to wonder what would be going through the lunatic’s mind. To her surprise, he was standing up, lazily leaning against the back of the chair. His mocking smile blazingly stood out against the dark skin. "There will be no escape. My Beholder and Pendant see to that.” He motioned to the blue gem-embedded star necklace hanging about her throat. “And, if those fail, my pets will be more than enough.” Laughing, he pointed to the lycan’s stationed all about the room. Walking over to her, he reached out and took her chin in his hand. Moving close enough until his dark face was a mere inch away from her pale fey face. Licking his lips, he stared deeply into the eyes that held fear and hatred towards him. "Are you afraid? Do you hate my existence?” His smile widened and he made a mocking kiss towards her. Seeing her recoil, he gave a sharp bark of laughter. “I shall show you what it is to fear, my dear. Your petty little husband will not make it past the front doors. Once he is dead, and I have fed him to my pets before your eyes, I shall do unto you things your pathetic little mind could never fathom. I shall show you nightmares beyond your beliefs and horrors that will stay with you until you die. Which will be shortly after I’ve tired of your screams.”
She could feel tears beginning within her eyes. Shaking her head, she wished this were just a nightmare. That her beloved husband would be gently shaking her awake and then teasing her for hitting him yet again in her sleep. She thought of her children, whom she remembered the soft sleeping faces of as she had closed the door on after tucking them into bed. The thought of them living without ever knowing what happened to their mother or father upset her more and the tears began to roll over her eyelids and along her cheeks. She looked at Kriel, the tears flowing freely from her eyes. Her lips curled into a snarl, seeming to please him further. Releasing her chin, he let her head fall and walked back to his chair. His laughter echoed throughout the room, and continued until the door to the room opened. Even then, the occasional choked laugh could be heard.
Moving in through the door was a creature, for no man had such emerald scales littering his body. It walked in a gait, as it’s huge digi-grade legs struggled to carry the half human, half draconian body. The eyes were a dull red, and its jaw hung slightly open to show rows of sharp, yellowed teeth. Approaching Kriel, it awkwardly bowed before him. As it spoke, the words came out with a slight hiss. "My Lord, the man Ambrossse hasss gone to an inn in Parisss. He sssupposssedly went to meet a man named Merc."
Kriel’s fist beat upon the arm of the chair a moment, as if the name annoyed him. "Come back when you have something useful to report!" A low growl filled the room, and from the look on the creature’s face, Angelina knew that Kriel’s must be a sight to behold. “Begone, with you!” Turning, the creature fled from the room as fast as its legs would take it. Spinning out of his chair, Kriel crouched beside it, his face was a mask of fury, with slit eyes and his lips drawn back to show his entire mouth of teeth. "Angelina.... Your Husband is very foolish if he thinks Merc…” The name came from his mouth as if it left the foulest taste in the world. “Would do anything to help him..." Throwing his arm into the chair, the heavy stone screeched a few feet across the floor before stopping. His eyes burned with a fury that Angelina was not certain hell could ever match.
Quivering, Angelina put her arms about herself and could only watch as this madman threw his tantrum of rage. Whatever else, she was beginning to worry that Ambrose might not be able to win against such raw and uncontrolled fury. But, she knew he would try, and she would do what she could to help. Glancing down at the pendant, then up at the beholder, she began to plot.

Chapter 4
A Helping Hand

alking through the blue door to the inn, Ambrose glanced around the room. His musketeer hat pulled down low on his brow, hoping no one recognized him in this part of Paris. Since the up bringing of the small village of Lycanthropes on his estate, he hadn't been viewed as a friendly individual. Seeing the room pretty much scarce of people, he made his was to the innkeeper. Standing behind the bar wiping a tankard out, the innkeeper watched as Ambrose walked through the inn. Bowing his head down, Ambrose began speaking softy.
”Hail, friend…” He lifted his hat slightly to allow the innkeeper to see his face. "You know who I am... I am here, looking for a person of interest to me." Looking the innkeeper straight in the eye, the innkeeper could only nod slowly as he swallowed hard. "Just either point me to his room or send for him... I will not trouble you anymore after that." Ambrose stood attentive and on guard as the innkeeper gave a sharp whistle for one of his barmaids to come to him. Whispering to her, the maid turned and ran up the stairs.
A few moments passed as the innkeeper kept an eye on Ambrose and Ambrose on him. Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, he sees the maid come down with a cloaked figure. With a slight arch to his brow, Ambrose realized he was only hearing the maid’s footsteps, not the figure’s. The figure motioned for Ambrose to follow him to a private room down the back hall next to the stairs. Ambrose looked back at the innkeeper and gave him sign that asked his forgiveness, but to tolerate his presence for a bit longer.
Moving down the hallway the man opened a door to a well-lit room. Ambrose studied the figure as they moved into the room. Closing the door quietly behind him, he watched as the figure pulled his hood back. The first thought through Ambrose’s mind, as much as it unnerved him to think of it, was that the man before him could only be described as beautiful. Long, gracefully shaped elven face, the pale skin and large green eyes took on a slightly dark hue in the light. His long silver hair hung down across his shoulders and his pointed ears protruded from the long hair. Seeing Ambrose watching him, he made a low bow.
"Good day to you, Ambrose. My name is Merc, and I mean you no harm." Moving slowly to not startle him, Merc opened his cloak to show the twin scimitars he had about his waist. Still moving cautiously, he undid his sword-belt and placed the belt with its swords on a small table a short way from the desk. Moving to the desk, he motioned for Ambrose to come and sit with him as he poured a couple of goblets of wine. “I am here on a hunt for someone... I have been hunting him a long time, Ambrose. I am willing to go through anything to find and capture him." Taking a drink of his wine, he studied Ambrose before nodding his head grimly. "I do know he has someone dear to you... And I promise you she will not be harmed as long as we move quickly to rescue her and take him." Merc’s soft voice finally struck Ambrose as odd. It wasn’t the soft melodic voice that an elf should have, but the voice of someone who had gone through a lot and was becoming annoyed at something.
"I understand, Merc. I shall not get in your way as long as he hasn't hurt Angelina. But… If he has harmed her, you may only have a corpse to capture." Patting the pommel of Imperion, he stared at Merc’s eyes to see if he would try to deny him that right. Seeing only a tiny smile escape Merc’s lips, he figured all was well. "When shall we move? I would very much like to get this done as soon as it is possible, and be reunited with my beloved." Standing, Ambrose then watched as Merc took out a roll of paper and held it out to him. Taking it, Ambrose unrolled it across the table and snapped his head up to look at Merc for a moment before going back to the paper. Upon the page were the plans of an estate house and the numbers written over the page could only mean one thing. "You’re telling me this place is being heavily guarded?" Looking at Merc, the elf merely nodded to his question. "How are we going to take down such a force?"
Merc gave a slight chuckle as he pulled out a thin sheet of plastic to lie on top of the paper, giving the marks of at least three other forces. "I called in help when I heard there was that many." Pointing at the hilltop that was drawn next to the estate, he began to explain. "Phire, an old friend and master of mystical arts shall be positioned at the hilltop; his spells will rain down on the grounds of the estate making sure our entry is covered. If it doesn’t take out some of those forces in the mean time." Pointing at a small grove of trees, he continued. "Ramion, a skilled bowman and loyal friend shall be there. His skills at hiding and archery will help him against being detected, as well as taking out a few of the nasties." Giving a slight laugh, he turned to the next point, standing centred before the main doors to the estate. Giving a small shake of his head before speaking. "The final will be Somuria. A headstrong and sometimes… brash warrior. She shall wait for my signal, then make herself known to those within and without, hoping to take the main brunt of the attack. Hopefully if all goes well-."
”A lone woman? Are you mad?” Ambrose leaned over the desk as Merc glanced up at him.
"Aye, Ambrose. A lone woman. Though, you shall see soon enough why I do not fear for her life. It is my own I fear for in her company. Anyhow, let us be off. We strike at dark, and shall save your dear Angelina." Rolling up the map, he walked over to the table to take up his sword-belt, placing it about his waist; he then moved to the door and glanced back at Ambrose. Seeing Ambrose only pause for a moment before moving to follow, he strode out the door and out the inn.

Arriving at the outskirts of the manor, they quickly took evaluation of the grounds. Squinting against the sun, Ambrose scowled in confusion. "You are sure there is a huge force here? I see no men or other patrolling the grounds." Ambrose turned to look at Merc as the elf nodded.
"Quite sure. Probably inside, as shadow does not live well during the day. We shall wait until dark, when they should leave and begin patrolling outside. Even if they do not, Somuria shall get them out fast enough. I just hope she remembers to keep it down this time." While the last line was silent and almost spoken to his self, Ambrose could only wonder what he meant. Glancing about, Ambrose could find no signs of Merc’s supposed help. Sighing, Ambrose realized that two of them would probably not be seen anyhow. He’d managed to get a bit more information out of the elf before him during their walk here, but only about the physical appearances of the others. From what it sounded like, two were elves, while the last was human. His thoughts drifted to Angelina and wondered how she fared within the desolate stonewalls before him.
"Merc, I hope this plan goes well for her sake… and yours. For if Angelina is harmed, I do not believe I would hesitate to take your life as easily as his. As… Kriel’s." A quick glance to Merc, and he saw the elf’s lips turn up into a smile. All he could wonder as he sat to wait was just what could cause him to smile so.

Chapter 5
Assault on Lycanthrope Manor

s the sun finally fell below the horizon, Ambrose caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Following the movement, he noticed figures appearing from the manor house, spreading out amongst the grounds of the estate. Counting the various forms, he could only spot about thirty-five. Watching their motions and patterns, he tried to develop a plan for entering the estate when a slight movement to his left showed Merc fiddling with what looked to be some kind of firework. As Merc looked up at him and smiled, he saw a small glow beginning to move towards the front of the estate. He was about to say something when Merc gave a small curse under his breath and quickly looked to the east. Nodding to something he saw over there, he turned to the firework and lit it. As it took off, Ambrose took note that no smoke left it, and when it exploded over the manor it took a moment before the forces below realized what was happening and began to mobilize.
Five little red lights began to glow from the east, and Ambrose watched in wonder for a moment before realizing that they must be the work of Merc’s friend, Phire. The lights grew until they were, to what Ambrose could only guess as, the size of a man’s head before shooting in streaks towards the manor. Each struck a section of the grounds outside, bursting in an explosion of flames, lightning and light. Ambrose watched as creatures caught within the blast staggered about, trying to get the flames off or falling to the ground as electricity racked through their bodies. As he looked from spot to spot, he noticed a small group of them gathering to charge up the hill towards the wizard. Putting his hand on his sword, Ambrose began to get up to help him when Merc placed a hand on his arm and gave him a stern look to not interfere. Releasing the hilt, he relaxed and turned back to watch as a white light began to slash a bloody path across those heading towards the hill. At first, he thought the wizard had done this, but a shadow darker than the deepest shadow in the night moved aside and Ambrose found himself looking at a woman who’s very bearing gave him shivers from the merciless way she moved.
Her long dark hair was bound in a braid that she seemed to swing about as much as the sword that he could only think to say was made of light, knocking those who dared to come up behind her down. He then noticed one coming up on the side that the dark shape kept moving on and felt him self about to yell out when something hit the creature’s back, knocking it to the ground. He waited for it to stand, but soon realized it would not as his eyes focused a bit more to see the shaft sticking out of it’s back in the pale light coming from the woman’s sword. He saw the woman glance over quickly to the trees and nod before continuing her swath of destruction. Here he realized that the arrow must have come from the archer companion, Ramion. Glancing at Merc, he hiked a thumb to point out the woman.
”Somuria. I told her to use her normal sword, but no… She had to take out those damned blades. Lords can only hope that Ramion can subdue her if one becomes stronger than the other.” He then nodded to Ambrose and motioned to the estate as the last of the creatures fell before the woman. She stood and turned away, starting to walk off when Ramion stepped out of the trees and moved to her. The sword and the darkness left and Ambrose could no longer see either of them as the night’s darkness swept over them. He felt Merc tug on his sleeve lightly and looked to him just as Merc began to run to the manor house. Only a moment’s hesitation before Ambrose was right behind him. As he ran, Merc began to crouch. Ambrose was about to speak up when he noticed the cloak shift to a bluish-black and sink into him. Soft fur rippled out across his body as it took on a more feline aspect. As he finished his transformation to a full panther, Merc lengthened his strides, moving faster and jumping the small obstacles in his path with ease. As he neared the manor, he picked up speed and leapt up to a stone ledge just above a window leading to the second level. Pulling up below the window, he looked up at Merc as he shifted back. Merc saw him and motioned to the main doors as he swung down, off the ledge, and into the window.
Sighing, Ambrose turned to the main doors and pulled his sword. Taking a deep breath, he ran up to them, throwing his shoulder into them. The doors swung wide, and the cries that came from either side of the opened doors and the three standing stunned before him told him his bold opening move worked to his advantage. Using the moment of surprise, he struck out with Imperion, delivering a swift blow to the first creatures’ throat. As he stepped back to prepare for another strike, the other two had snapped to attention and took up defensive poses of their own. Watching them for a moment, he then lunged for the one on the left. The one on his right sprang up, trying to take him from above as the one on the left dodged downwards. Knowing they expected him to shrink back at the double assault, Ambrose continued through on the lunge, grabbing the shoulder of the creature diving below him and using it as a ballast to propel him over. As his feet left the floor, he turned slightly to look to his right and slashed through the creature’s belly as it came towards him. The blade bit deep, causing the creature to curl up some, overshooting its mark. His feet touched the ground on the opposite side of his leap as the body struck the floor in a bone-breaking crash. He spun around to face the final creature as it turned about to face him. Ambrose found himself looking into the eyes of a fellow lycan, and knew the creature before him could say the same of him. The creature gave a low growl before jumping forward to attack. Ambrose fell to one knee, letting his hand strike the floor to stop his fall as he brought the sword up to take the creature in the shoulder. It pulled back and watched him for a moment.
Rolling back to his feet, Ambrose saw the creature was breathing heavily. Spacing his feet some, Ambrose made to look as if he was relaxing, not truly expecting the creature to fall for it, but surprised and ready when it did. The blade sunk deep into the creature’s gut as its eyes stared up at him. Pulling the blade free, Ambrose curled his lip in distaste as he moved past it. Glancing back at the door, he saw the two slammed into the walls by the large doors were still out cold and took a moment to catch his breath. Flicking Imperion sharply, he tried to fling off as much of the blood as possible before moving to the next set of doors inside. Placing an ear to the door, he listened for any sounds within. Just as he was about to pull away, the door flung open and Ambrose took a defensive position as Merc stepped out into sight. In the elf’s right hand was a semi-glowing scimitar with a golden hilt beset by a single gem in the pommel. The rune-etched blade gave off a cold aura about it, almost as if the winds of the far north were drawn to its presence. In his other hand he held another scimitar, a startling contrast to the one in his right. With a blade made of pure obsidian that was marked with blood red glowing runes. The runes seemed to dance as if they were on fire and the feeling Ambrose got from it was that the blade had been forged from Hell itself. The hilt was bright silver with a single ruby set in the pommel. Merc gave him a look that asked if he was ready, then started off for the stairs when Ambrose nodded to him.

Chapter 6
A Captured Soul

s Ambrose moved up the steps, he kept pausing to listen for the sounds of anyone walking about. As they neared the top, he drew up and motioned to Merc to stop. Nodding, Merc acknowledged that he too heard it. Merc closed his eyes a second, and then seemed to be focusing on locating the sound. After a moment, he opened his eyes and pointed to the set of large double oaken doors at the end of the hall before them. Stepping quietly, they both moved up to the doors and Merc held up three fingers, then pointed to the door. Ambrose held up three fingers and pointed to his sword, then to the door, motioning to ask if he meant three behind the door. When Merc shook his head, he then nodded, knowing Merc would count to three and then pull open the door.
Listening for a moment, Ambrose looked to Merc and mouthed the word ‘Two?’ A nod from the elf, and then Merc gave a quick hand gesture to ask if he wished help. Ambrose shook his head and gave a half smile. Nodding, Merc put up his closed hand, lifting one finger at a time. As the third rose, Ambrose began a forward roll to the door. He went through the opened door and heard the hiss of a sword go past where his head would have been had he just walked in. Striking out as he came to his feet, the sudden jar in the movement told him he’d connected. Without looking yet to see, he pulled his sword loose and spun around to attack the creatures. Standing before him was one creature that could only be described as a half-human, half-draconian. The other lay still on the floor with a deep wound to the gut.
The one still standing gave him no time for thought as it charged. Like a streak of light, Ambrose’s sword swung up to counter, sending sparks flying into the air. They pushed against each other a moment before finally stepping back to circle about. As Ambrose watched the creature, he realized he might have finally met something that could be his match in fencing skills. Though, how such a being would have such skills was beyond his thoughts. He glanced past it for a quick second out the door to see if Merc would be doing anything, nearly getting a sword to the gut as the creature took the advantage. As he dodged about and came back to riposte, Ambrose could only wonder where the elf had gone.

Angelina’s eyes slowly began to open. Soon after his last time tormenting her mind with his cruel promises, she had fallen asleep. Her eyes fell on the pendant she had studied intensely for the past few days. Nothing she had thought of yet could remove that pendant, the first time she had tried, the beholder still floating above her screamed out, bring Kriel to her. He had tightened the binding about her neck so that she couldn’t just slip it off, and her attempts to pull it looser went to no avail.
She turned her head up to look about the room and saw a blur of movement near the door. As she started to realize who it was, she then noticed the throne was missing from the centre of the room. Trying to cry out warning, Angelina cursed the spell that silenced her. Shadows melted off the walls and solidified into the various creatures she remembered seeing before. Two of them raised their hands towards Ambrose and the Yuan-ti he fought in the doorway. They began to speak in a low chant, wisps of power floating about them and across the floor towards the fighters. Four other Yuan-ti circled about the pair, watching for a chance to attack.
Trying to cry out warning again, she wondered if her voice got through, or if her beloved’s natural talent for noticing danger came through as he glanced towards the spell casters. His eyes widened just as the wisps reached him and latched onto his legs. The Yuan-ti he was fighting brought the hilt of its sword up, striking Ambrose solidly in the gut. Gasping, Ambrose fell to his knees. A low chuckle filled the room as the Yuan-ti made a partial circle about Ambrose’s kneeling form.

The low chuckle continued as Kriel stepped out from, seemingly, the air and crouched before Ambrose. Ambrose scowled and gave a low growl, but when he attempted to move to strike him, felt like his limbs were made of lead. "Why… Hello~, Ambrose... What an… un-expected surprise. I do hope you will stay and watch my fun?" Standing up, Kriel looked down at him and grinned. "I do hope you feel comfortable I wouldn't want anything to happen to my main sacrifice." He then turned to look over at Angelina and made a beckoning motion.
Ambrose watched as Angelina slid across the floor to Kriel’s waiting hand. The look on her face and the way she tried to hold herself back told Ambrose all he needed to know. Angelina had been told or had something done to her by Kriel, and so he must die. Ambrose tried once again to break free of the spell as he watched Kriel lean down to place his face close to Angelina’s. Ambrose’s look of fury was possibly a close match to the look of disgust on Angelina’s face as she tried to move back.
”Dear, Angelina. You wound me looking at me with such hatred.” He looked like he was considering it a moment before smiling widely and running a finger over her cheek. “I like it. But, your playing will have to wait until you’ve watched the death of your beloved Ambrose.” He turned her face sideways and licked her chin lightly before pushing her back. She slid back across the room and crashed into the wall, once again directly under the beholder.
”Kr~iel!”
Kriel lazily turned his head over to look at Ambrose and his smirk look faded. Ambrose’s entire body was trembling with rage, but further, it was turning a light greyish colour. Kriel stepped back and watched as the sound of bones snapping and cracking filled the air. Ambrose tilted his head back as his body began to grow, and fur pushed through the skin. His hands curled up before snapping wide, the bones elongating and pushing through the tips to create softly curved claws. His feet snapped in half as the heel moved up his shin slightly to give his legs a more digi-grade look. Finally, his scream filled the air as his jaw elongated and cracked into position. His eyes narrowed and the band about his hair burst. Climbing to his feet, his clothes gave a ripping sound as the final changes to his size overtook him. Pieces of his shirt fell down to hang off his waist as the neckline tore completely apart. His musketeer tabard slid over his shoulders and fell to the floor. His pants tore at the knees, leaving pieces about his feet, now poking through the soft leather of once fine boots. His eyes shifted to a golden yellow as his tail finally lashed out from the waistline of his pants.
Standing for a moment, Ambrose breathed heavily, still in pain from the transformation. Suddenly, he stopped and spun to his right. His hand back slashed the area, claws striking the Yuan-ti who stood there, gouging scales and flesh away from the body. The Yuan-ti gave a hissing-shriek and backed away from him as the other four moved to attack him. Ambrose raised both arms and slashed them across, as if giving a huge bear hug to the air. Each claw reaped across a Yuan-ti’s face or chest, ripping away more scales and flesh and causing two more to back away in pain. He turned to his left just as one came close enough and snapped out with his mouth, taking the creature in the upper shoulder and throat, he crushed his teeth together and jerked his head away, pulling muscle away with the bite. Spitting it out as the creature slumped to the floor, he crouched and spun to face the last one. Only a moment he had to recognize this one as the fighter from before as instinct kicked in and Ambrose kicked straight up.
The Yuan-ti’s eyes rolled up into its head as it fell forward. Ambrose’s hand slashed down, taking out the back of the creature’s throat. He then turned to face Kriel as the two spell casters once again began to chant. Not waiting, Ambrose ran towards Kriel and growled as his hands flew threw the air. Glancing about quickly, he saw Kriel on the far side of the room. Glancing to the closest spell caster, he realized he was out of time if he wanted to get rid of the Dark Elf before the spells. Leaping through the air, Ambrose came down heavily on the spell caster. Its eyes were wide as Ambrose sank claws and teeth deep into the creature’s chest and throat. As he pulled back to stand, a burst of fire struck his side and he howled in pain.
Absently smacking at the fire, Ambrose spun to look at the second spell caster and saw it was already beginning another chant. Running, he charged straight into it, ripping it apart, most literally, limb from limb. He then turned to look at the room and saw Kriel standing over Angelina with a dagger to her throat. A low growl echoed through his rib cage before becoming a howl of pain and rage.

Kriel smiled cruelly as he watched Ambrose turn his head back down to look at him. His eyes were entirely on the blade at Angelina’s throat, and the pain within them would have had Kriel dancing with glee had it not meant his life to do so. He had never imagined the power Ambrose’s lycanthrope self might hold, and after seeing it in action, he was not ready to see just how well he could hold out with all the things he’d been doing as of late that had drained a good deal of his power.
As he stood there, he could see Ambrose was not entirely feral as the eyes turned cold and calculating. Pressing the dagger harder against her throat, Kriel looked down at Angelina as he heard a soft ting sound. His eyes took in the pendant about her throat and he smiled. Grabbing it, he pulled it off her and flung it at Ambrose.
Snaking out his paw, Ambrose went to catch the item as it flew at him. Just as it touched his hand, the band flew up and settled around his wrist. He only got a moment to look at it before pain shot through his body and he felt himself shrinking. The fur pulled back within, his bones shifted back to those of a normal human and his face snapped back into position. He fell to the ground, screaming out in pain as his body tried to hold on to the transformation, but had it stripped from him. His clothes became loose and he could only look up as Kriel walked over to stand over him.
"Well well... I didn't expect it to work this well on you. I am very lucky that it did though. Now I shall make short work of you in front of your lovely." Drawing a scimitar, he held it to Ambrose’s throat and smiled. “Goodbye.” He brought it back and was about to slash down when movement caught his eye. Glancing up, he gave a hiss. “Merc…”

"It is time for you to come quietly, Kriel. I have been chasing you long enough and to be truthful, I’m getting tired of it. You have crimes to stand trial for and the Gods are not pleased with you… at all." Holding up his left hand, he showed a large ruby. Held within his right hand was his obsidian blade. "Come without resistance and I will make sure you are treated well for it."
Kriel laughed boldly and held his scimitar closer to Ambrose’s throat, slightly biting into his neck and allowing a trickle of blood to run down. Ambrose gave a soft whimper as more pain lanced through his body after the double transformations. Kriel shook his head and chuckled. "Oh. Come, come now, Brother. Do you really think our parents would truly not let them hurt me? You know as well as I they want to ‘help’ me. Personally, I hope you do realize what their help would do to me."

Ambrose looked back and forth between Merc and Kriel, cursing himself for not seeing the resemblance earlier. He had never once truly asked Merc why he had been chasing Kriel, nor how he knew of him. Wincing in pain, he watched as Merc shook his head sadly.
”I thought you might be smarter than this, Brother. But now, I see there is no choice.” Heaving the ruby back, he tossed it forward at the beholder. Its mouth turned to snap up the gem as it exploded into a ball of flame. The shriek it gave was enough to make all in the room wince in pain.
As the sound died off, Ambrose could only watch as the two brothers looked at each other in scorn. Facing one another, they took up a defensive stance and began to circle. Rolling over and away as best as he could, he found himself facing Angelina, only in her Fire Form.

Angelina looked down at Ambrose and reached out a hand to touch his cheek gently. The fact that he cringed away from her, knowing her fire would not harm him unless she wished it showed the damage he had taken. Glancing up at the two brothers, she stood quickly and was about to run at Kriel when Merc shouted out at her. "Do not hurt him, Angelina! Whatever he has done to you he shall be punished for.” Kriel made a slice at him and he parried it away, continuing. “But, this is between him and I. Take Ambrose out of here. There will be people outside waiting for you." She then watched as the two brothers came together, steel ringing upon steel and sparks flying high.
Turning back to Ambrose, she faded back to her normal human form and pulled him to his feet. Grunting slightly as his weight settled on her shoulders, she wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him to walk out of the room. Looking back, she saw Merc give a vicious punch to Kriel’s face. He turned and tossed something towards them, only to have a kick to his side returned. Looking down, Angelina saw Ambrose’s blade. Motioning to it, she saw Ambrose raise his head slightly to look at it. With a soft word and movement of his hand, the blade moved to his hand and she then turned her attention back to the way they were walking, blocking out the sounds of the two elves fighting in the room behind them.

Arriving outside, Ambrose and Angelina were greeted by three individuals. One, Ambrose remembered from before heading inside. “Somuria.” The female elven warrior stared at him with emotionless brown eyes staring out of a battle-worn, yet still beautiful elven face. Her attire was very simple, yet startling for someone who was to be as skilled at fighting as herself. A normal pair of trousers, hanging loose over what seemed to be high cut boots, a large two-and-a-half bastard sword strapped on her back with a shoulder to hip scabbard belt. And finally, a slim vest that was stretched taught over her fully shaped frame. Giving a small scoff as she noticed them both watching her, she motioned with her jaw to the elf standing beside her.
The elf stood at about the same height as Ambrose. He was slender, yet had a power that was visible, more like a feline’s strength and grace. His almond shaped eyes of hazel watched Ambrose and Angelina with a soft warmth through the brown hair that framed his face. His smile was almost warm and comforting, if it were not for the way he would bite the right side of his lower lip any time he glanced at the manor. Just as Ambrose was about to say something, the elf nodded. “I am known as Ramion. Forgive me, I am a bit worried about Merc. And while she may not show it, Somuria is as well. We just hope his crazy plan works.”
Ambrose followed Ramion’s gaze as he turned to look at the last person. This one, Ambrose could only guess was Phire. And, if the name was not explanatory enough, the man was pale, yet seemed to be covering in moving flames. Further inspection showed he wore robes that had a glossy substance on top of them enchanted with the illusion of flickering flames. His bold red hair was a startling contrast to the pale skin and dark eyes.
”You have doubts in Merc now? I never have. But of course, he always left me with the fun jobs.” Shaking his hands out, he chuckled heartily and glared at the manor as his hands began to glow. "Everyone, you may wish to look away. I was told to.... ‘Take care’ of the estate and its surroundings. And I think I may know just what spell will do this." Rolling up his sleeves, he tilted his head back and took a deep breath. Bringing his arms above his head and crossing his hands at the wrist, he lowered his head to gaze at the manor. His dark eyes shone red, and seemed alive as he began to chant in a deep tone.
”Isn’t Merc…” Ambrose was cut off as Somuria placed a hand on his shoulder. The strength with which she’d done so left him quivering for a moment. Looking at her, she gave a slight smile, as if it was meant to calm him, but only made him more nervous. The slight shiver of Angelina within his arms told him she felt the same way.
”Have faith. Merc would only tell this fire-hungry mage to use everything he had if he knew he could get out in time.” Somuria’s voice was cold and each word sounded like a blade cutting through the soul. Ambrose could only take a moment to wonder what could have happened to her to make an elf speak with such a biting edge, when the chanting of Phire grew louder. Looking at the wizard, flames now roared up about him and focused into a spot between his two upraised hands. Just as the chanting could go no louder, Phire threw his hands down and stopped all at once.
The ball of fire rose high into the sky, over the manor and exploded, raining flames and rocks down upon it and the surrounding grounds. “Now’s the part you want to look away for.” Chuckling happily, he brought up both hands before him, bowed slightly and snapped the first fingers on both hands. Even looking away, the flash of light that came from the explosion was enough to blind Ambrose and Angelina for a few moments. As the dust settled, they saw the area surrounding them scorched and burned. Standing before them, with her sword and his bow crossed, as a shield before them all was Somuria and Ramion. Looking to each other, they gave a slight laugh before picking up their weapons and bowing to the others. “Good work, I do sometimes forget to protect those I’m with, don’t I?” Phire merely chuckled deeply as the two elves shook their heads and walked off.

Epilogue

hire turned to face Ambrose and Angelina. Smiling, he held forth two pendants, one was a sapphire, glowing a deep blue and the other was a ruby, glowing a dulled red. "A gift, from Merc and myself. If you ever have need of Merc, or even myself, we shall be here within minutes of you activating these stones. Just… try not to call Merc for a short while. I do believe he is going to need to rest after his fun in the manor. That is... if I don’t need to find a way to get him resurrected once again." Winking to show he was joking at his final statement, he handed the ruby pendant to Ambrose and the sapphire to Angelina.
"So, Kriel won't bother us anymore?" Ambrose waited until Phire nodded in response to the question. "And I think I am going to request an audience with His Majesty about possibly gaining better security… just in case the dread lords want to send someone else after us." Bowing as much as his sore body would let him, Ambrose thanked Phire, and through him the others who had helped. "Do send Merc my regards and best wishes in his recuperation."
Phire smiled and bowed in return. "I will, and I must be going. I have to get back to Toril and make sure my apprentice didn't destroy anything while I was gone. Farewell… friend." Turning, he slashed an arm at the air, opening a portal and stepped through it. The last either Ambrose or Angelina saw of him that moment was his head shaking and him calling out for someone or something.
Ambrose turned to Angelina and looked deep into her eyes. Running a hand over her cheek, he watched as her eyes closed gently to his caress. He then moved in and kissed her gently. Pulling back only a little, he placed his forehead against hers. "I am… so glad you are alright, my love."
She smiled and kissed him back. Then took his hand and pulled slightly. “I never doubted you, love. But please, may we head home? I fear for the children, and I am very cold.” She laughed slightly, joined quickly by Ambrose as they both strode off towards their home.