RP:Mutual Metamorphosis

 Summary: Deidre, hoping for a quiet night out, stumbles upon a group of vampires that are on the prowl for easy prey. Uriphiel comes out of hiding.

Date of Writing: Feb 27th, 2024. 

Mutual Metamorphosis

 Town in the Trees , Kelay
The well trodden path continues to snake its way through this snug forested town nestled amongst the trees. All around, sounds of life spring forth and you wonder at the skill and devotions of the original builders. Southward lies a narrow dirt path, where light traces of blood can be detected upon the dirt. To the north you notice what appears to be an archway formed from the intertwining of aged saplings and overgrown bushes.

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• 
  [Deidre] The Lycan woman moves along the path with a purpose to her step. The dust kicks up as each booted foot falls and arms swing lazily at her side. She seems to have a slight spring in her stride and a light happy hum can be heard buzzing over her lips. Her face tips towards the sky enjoying the breeze that whips her thick locks of black hair about. The loose fitting shirt billows slightly, the size slightly larger than her normal and her pants stained in spots with dirt and mud. Neither bothered though.
  
  A drink and bite at the local tavern sounded heavenly at this exact moment and the jingle in her pocket would indicate that she had more than enough for a decent sit down meal. Perhaps she may even find some interesting conversation too. The evening was looking up!
  
  
• 
  [Uriphiel] The jingle in the pocket. That would be the catalyst for the sour turn that this purportedly swell evening would take. A gang of four men were lying in wait, two on either side of the road, using the allure of the local tavern to set up an ambush for anyone who looked like they might have a sizeable change purse that could be pilfered. They were all clad in black, thus making it quite difficult to see them among the heavy shadow of nightfall. As Deidre came into view, the first two cretins would step forth and onto the road to block her path. “Well well well, what’ve we here, boys? Bit dangerous to be walking these roads at night, darlin’. All sorts of unsavory types out here, ya know”, spoke the ringleader, a grisly bald man with a scar running over his left eye. He flashed the woman a sinister, fanged grin, betraying the fact that she happened upon a group of vampires tonight. “Whadda we do wit ‘er boss?” asked the rather large brute next to him, while two other fairly muscular individuals stepped out behind the lycan to prevent her escape. The bald man reached down to his hip, slipping his fingers around the hilt of a dagger. “We’ll make this easy. Yer coin purse, or yer life. Yer call, girlie.”
  
  
• 
  Deidre stops mid stride, her tune quieting instantly as the two ruffians move to stand in her way, blocking her path. She casts a glance over her shoulder at the other two now at her back and carefully positions herself so that all four men can be seen easily, either with a small twist of the head or in her peripheral view. Delving her hands deep into the pockets of her slacks, she jingles the coin again as if tempting the thugs further, giving them a toothy grin, “Now boys, if it takes four of you to steal from a defenseless woman such as myself, I can’t imagine you are very good at this sort of thing..”
  
  With an another shake of that coin, the woman pulls forth not one, not two or even three, but rather four throwing knives from the recesses of her clothing. Where they had been hidden within her pocket one can only guess, but held tightly between each knuckle of her right hand is a blade, sharp and deadly. Holding the blades at her side, she casts her amber gaze towards what she assumed was the ring leader of this circus and gave him a convincing “come hither” look, “You have two choices in how you die tonight. Quickly?” The woman flashes the blades in his general direction, “Or slowly, choking on your own blood?” At this she gives a guttural growl that any human woman should not posses and sharpened canines can be seen protruding over her lower lip in a very convincing snarl. The choice was his now, hopefully it was option one. She was rather hungry after all.
  
  
• 
  [Uriphiel] The two men standing in front of Deidre looked at one another for a lingering moment and soon burst into an extremely condescending fit of laughter. “Look’it that. We got a mutt in our midst!” the bald one ragged. “I’m fixin’ t’revoke my initial offer. Been a while since we skinned a pup and took’er pelt.” The four men laughed in unison, readying themselves to make their first move. With his dagger drawn, the ringleader was the first to act, using his free hand to reach for Deidre’s throat; Not to yet maim or kill, but in an attempt to exert control. The one next to him reached out with both hands to grab her right arm, while the pair behind made their own moves to grab her by the waist, as well as her left arm. Their aim was to make sure she couldn’t move or defend herself, and then drag the woman off of the main road and toward a nearby abandoned cabin just off of the beaten path. Unbeknownst to the crew of vampiric thugs, they were being watched from a fairly close distance by a hooded stranger dressed in common rags. While they may not have noticed, his scent may have been picked up by Deidre on a passing breeze; Although to her it would be a scent quite strange. It was a living being most assuredly, but the smell of flesh would be mingled with whatever fragrance that was the most pleasing to the lycanthrope.
  
  
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  [Deidre] The Lycan's snarl only deepens and grows in volume at the vampires words. Perhaps she had picked the wrong fight, but she couldn't stand a bully. This would be a tricky face off though. Just as the leader makes a swipe for her throat, she buckles her knees and dips low to avoid his grasp. Her hand holding the knives flicks once then again, sending two straight for the leaders eyes in hopes of blinding him, even for a moment. She had no time to see if her missiles struck true, however as her left arm is snatched by one of the thugs behind her and she twists on her knees, sweeping her arm back to unbalance him and send him to the dirt beside her. In a fluid motion, using the inertia of her twist, she moves to her feet and is now behind the third who had made a grab for her waist. Wasting no time, she plants a foot in the middle of his back and shoves hard, hoping to throw him into the fourth and final ruffian that had stood beside the leader, knocking them both off balance and giving her time to run with coin still intact.
  
  Just as she is about to turn and sprint, the unfamiliar but alluring scent hits her and her step falters. Her toe catches an unforeseen half buried stone in the road and the woman goes sprawling face first into the dirt. For someone who had just displayed such a graceful escape, this was not at all what she had, had in mind as her exit.
  
  
• 
  [Uriphiel] For the crew of four, it turns out that the lycanthrope would prove to be a little more capable of defending herself than they were expecting. Those knives were thrown quite expertly, both of which most assuredly found their mark in fully blinding the bald vampire. He let loose a blood-curdling scream and flailed about in a wild manner as the horror of his injury set in. Deidre’s adept skills would make certain that the other three would all falter in their attempts at restraint, humiliating each of the delinquents in turn as her defensive moves put them upon the ground. However, it didn’t take long for the three thugs to get back up, ready to chase the fleeing lycanthrope who would misjudge her footing. “GET HER. I WANT THAT MUTT’S HEAD!!” bellowed the leader, enraged by the fact that she had fully taken his ability to see. When Deidre tripped, and the three remaining vamps took the opportunity to attempt to swarm her, the lone stranger could stand by no longer. He emerged from the forest line and burst into a sprint, closing the gap between himself and the three stalking vamps quite quickly. Just as one of the henchmen became alerted to the sound of footsteps coming from behind, the stranger turned his body and used his shoulder to barrel into that vamp, knocking him backward and into the other two, which threw the whole crew off balance. They tumbled, rolled, and swiftly got to their feet, ready to counter the nosy intruder. “Big mistake, pal. Should mind yer own business,” the largest of the three growled. He ran at the stranger and tackled him to the ground in tandem with the other large brute, while the smallest of the crew turned his attention back to the sprawled lycan. He slipped one dirty boot under her stomach and forcefully flipped her over onto her back, before dropping down and straddling her with a malicious smile. “I’m gon’ enjoy this, mutt. Shoulda jus’ given us da coin.” The vampire’s jaw drops, fangs bared, as he lunges down in an attempt to tear out Deidre’s throat.
  
  
• 
  [Deidre] The Lycan huffs out a grunt as the vampire essentially kicks her to her back. Tears well at the corners of her eyes as the pain in her abdomen robs her of breath. It does not keep her from reacting to the foul stench of the vamp’s breath baring down on her exposed throat. Over her dead body. Wedging a knee between his lower region and herself, she heaves him up and over with every ounce of strength she posses and sends him sprawling onto his own back just beyond her head. With the agility of a cat, she quickly flips and throws herself atop the demon with a wild cry. Taking the remaining two knives still in her hand, she plunges the blades into his neck, tearing them down into his shoulders with a vicious slash. A slightly wild gleam of satisfaction can be seen within the now glowing amber gaze of the Lycan as her head turns towards the stranger and his own two aggressors.
  
  Jumping to her feet she lunges forward, hands outstretched and feet trailing like a direct missile. It happens quickly, almost within a blink so that to any on lookers it would be mere seconds. Her poor clothes would be shredded and the coveted coin would be scattered. What left the ravaged vampire was a woman but what tackled the other was a full sized dire wolf, razor teeth snapping at appendages and claws swiping at abdomens. She met the larger of the two head on, her teeth aiming for his face in an attempt to grab and wrench it from his very shoulders as her paws and sharp claws go for the soft flesh of his belly keen to disembowel. She only hoped the stranger could handle himself with the final for a moment longer.
  
  
• 
  [Uriphiel] The stranger was in the middle of a fierce tussle with the pair of brutes and doing his best to hold off their ravenous advances. It had been so long since he had faced vampires that he forgot just how strong they truly were. To make matters worse, in his current form, he was much smaller than the two vampiric thugs, giving them a slight upper hand in this fight. Still, he persisted with everything he had, managing to stave off various blows to the more vital areas of his face. It was only when the vampire that Deidre was facing let loose an agonizing death cry that the stranger let his guard down, receiving a good blow to the jaw as punishment for his lack of concentration. The pain would only be temporary, though, because deep in the pit of his stomach the stranger felt a wave of nausea overcome him. Knowing what this was, the mysterious cloaked man wriggled himself onto his belly and propped himself up on his knees and elbows. It didn’t take long. There was the brief sound of wretching and a thick black bile fell from the stranger's hood and onto the earth below him. His skin twitched and pulsated, rippling erratically like the bubbles in a boiling pot. Slowly, the stranger’s physiology changes. His eyes shift from forest green to a lustrous gold that glimmers in the moonlight. His face, once rounded and covered in a thick brown beard, slims and becomes clean-shaven. His hair, a tangled shoulder-length mess of chestnut locks, recedes into a short blonde undercut. His body gains mass, muscles enlarging, soon stretching the man out to his true height of seven feet. The greatest change of it all finally comes when the rags he is wearing begin to rip away at the back, and two massive wings of golden hue erupt from his shoulders. This startling change was just enough to give the avian and the wolven woman the edge in this confrontation. When the wings sprouted, they pushed both vampires up and off of his torso, giving Deidre the most opportune time in her own transformation. As soon she leapt, her target was placed directly into her path, unaware of what was about to happen to him. His head met her jaw, parted ways with his shoulders, and with the power of her claws, his insides would most certainly become his outsides. Uriphiel then flaps his wings backward with enough force to send the other brute stumbling in retreat, affording the avian time to unsheathe the arming sword at his hip, rise to his feet, and plunge the blade straight through the chest of the marauding ghoul. Before the pair could celebrate victory, the gruff voice of the ringleader called out, “What’s going on? Didja kill th’ bitch yet?! Bjorn? Haelyn?! ...Marcel?!” Knowing full well that Deidre may be out for blood, Uriphiel settled his glittery gaze upon the wolf, extending one hand out toward her as if to ask her to stop. Between heavy breaths, he would utter, “Do not… kill him.”
  
  
• 
  [Deidre] The great black beast shook her head violently as bone and blood fly in every which direction before dropping the now mangled mess of a head that had once belonged to the scraps lying a few feet away. If one looked closely, perhaps they could have discerned that the scraps in question had once been a body. Bloodied lips remain curled over pearly teeth, ears laid flat in a heated glare towards the sole remaining ruffian. So great was the Lycan’s ire and blood lust at this moment, that she hadn’t even given a moments pause to the stranger’s transformation, as grand as it was. It wasn’t until the avian spoke to her directly that the Lycan paused in her slow stalking pursuit to regard the stranger fully. Unable to utter the human words needed to voice her displeasure at the very idea that the vile being remain living for another moment, she gives a low growl of dispute and slowly begins stalking the last of the vampires once more.
  
  
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  [Uriphiel] “What’s happening?! Why ain’t any of ya answering?!!” There was fear in the ringleader’s voice as he realized that his band of brigands had fallen silent. What he can not see is the mess of bodies littered upon the road; One impaled through the heart, one torn to pieces, and the third, who was barely alive after what Deidre had done with those knives. Uriphiel wasn’t certain if the lycan would heed his request, but when she let loose an irritated growl, he once more tried to reason with her, “Please. He will pay for his crime. I assure you. I just need to speak with him.” The massive, golden-winged avian then approached the stumbling, blinded vampire and grabbed him by the back of his jerkin, easily steering the vile thing to the side of the road. With little effort, Uriphiel lifted the man a couple of feet off of the ground and slammed him face-first into the trunk of a tree, holding him firmly in place as he began with a question. “Who hired you?” The vampire was confused at first. “What’re ya talking ‘bout, ya daft lunatic!? Who hired-” And then it hit him. “Ooooh, ho ho, you crafty little birdy! Ya got out! Bravo to you! Me an’ the boys figured ya were feeding the things of the deep by now!” Uriphiel pulls the man back a little bit and then smashes his face into the tree once more. “Who.. hired you?”, he asked in a sterner voice. “Aw, c’mon, birdy! Ya know I can’t tell ya that! I was paid good money to keep that a secret. I’ll tell ya what. You get me a good chunk of coin an’ I’ll tell ya to go jump off a cliff!” With his free hand, Uriphiel reaches down and removes a bladeless hilt from the custom sheathe on his hip. When he did so, a crudely bound gemstone hanging from his neck began to hum with a faint blue glow. The avian presses the hilt against the vampire’s back and says simply, “Astrum”. No sooner had the words left his lips did the weapon showcase its true nature. A translucent, ethereal blade of azure appeared, seeming to pass right through both the taunting vampire and the tree trunk he had been forced up against, without actually causing any sort of noticeable damage. However, whatever that blade was made of, it was having quite the effect on the creature of darkness. “Wh-What in Elazul’s name is that?! I-I don’ like that. S-Stop!” Uriphiel would let the feeling linger for a moment longer, taking the time to turn his gaze toward the lycanthrope who was nearby. He studied her, watching every movement made in order to gauge her intentions. The lycanthropic curse fascinated the avian. There was a peculiar beauty to it, something that was certainly missing in that abominable ‘gift’ from the dark immortals that they called vampirism. The glimmering gold of Uriphiel’s irises shifted, this time taking note of the vampire that had his neck and shoulder carved into. He was sitting up now, his flesh painstakingly mending itself. If the wolf wanted retribution, then perhaps she would deal with this potential problem foremost, giving the avian time to finish his questioning.
  
  
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  [Deidre] The Lycan would pace, agitated that this new comer would take her chance at having her sport with the one that had instigated this entire slaughter in the first place. As her blood begins to cool, level headspace would soon prevail and she would calm enough to realize that the questions being asked would mean someone had wronged this man even more than they had her. Perhaps she could allow him to have the ring leader after all. Steady amber meets the swirling gold steadfast as the avian turns to study her. She did not shy from his gaze but instead stepped forward head held high and ears perked in an effort to show he had her attention. As well as her assistance if need be. She was not a small canine by any means, her shoulder brushing just passed five feet. Her black coat now not only streaked with the reddish browns of the sun, but flecks of bone and blood of the departed. She would need a bath in the near future. But at the present moment, her attentions would follow the curious stranger's to the rising remaining thug who still lived. She would need those knives back.
  
  Moving to straddle the the vampire with her front paws, she stares deeply into his undead gaze, lips slowly pulling back to bare those sharpened razors once more. The vampire stared back horrified but silent for several long moments before he lets loose a shrill cry, "Please, missus spare me! I dinna mean.." His plea is cut short as the wolf's jaws clamp onto his face. With a twist, his head is relieved of his body much like his friend and is tossed a few yards away. Dee watches as it rolls with a satisfied gleam to her eye. She knew the bodies would need to be burned but she was pretty sure there was no coming back from such a fatal wound as beheading.
  
  She looks to the avian once again and she takes her time to study him much as he had her. She had heard of his kind from stories but this was her only actual encounter and she planned to take full advantage of it before they parted ways. The dire wolf moves to stand a few feet away, ready and patiently waiting for any assistance that may be needed from her.
  
  
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  Uriphiel swiftly averted his gaze when the wolf clamped her jaws around the pleading thug’s head, not wanting to witness another brutal act of decapitation, regardless of whether the thief deserved it or not. Instead, he turned his attention back to the man he was holding against the tree. “My patience wears thin, abomination. I ask you again - Who hired you?” The vampire, despite his great discomfort, was ever so resistant to comply. “Ya motha”, he said in defiance. Uriphiel countered by speaking only the word “Nexum”. The aetherial blade grew brighter, shining now with a streak of white light through its center that washed the surrounding darkness in the vibrant glow of azure. The instigator screamed vociferously, his agony revealed in his desperate answer, "I DONT KNOW!!" He writhed, suffering, as the weapon slowly cooked any flesh that the ghostly blade was piercing, both externally and internally, while a nauseating, burning smell soon permeated the air. "WE NEVER MET THE ONE THAT ORDERED THE JOB!!” There is another anguished cry before the fiend speaks through gritted teeth and in an angry, condescending tone, “I can tell ya this though. Ya set foot in Schezerade, yer dead. Word is that you're a charlatan and a traitor. The Raan have it out for ya, birdy. They even get tha hint that yer still out there, and they’ll get ya. One way or another, they’ll get ya.” This was enough for Uriphiel. He had long suspected the Raan in having a hand in this; After all, his little stunt in attempting to unseat the corruption did not go over very well among some of the more rich and powerful denizens of the city. “...Thank you. I appreciate your honesty, truly.” The vampire groaned, asking then in a weakened state, “Yeah.. Yeah.. you gon’ let me down now?” The avian lowered his head and closed his eyes, his words solemn as he spoke aloud a prayer. “May the holy light of the Divine Three take pity upon your soul. May they be merciful and forgiving, and accept you into their graceful arms as you transcend the boundaries between planes. May your eternal suffering end.” There is a brief pause, allowing the gilded gaze of Uriphiel to settle on the vampire one last time, soon to speak his final word, “Corporis.” Without warning, the radiance of the weapon’s blade becomes unbearably bright as a white light fully takes over any azure hue that had been visible. The surrounding forests echo with a hellish, almost animalistic scream as the vampire suddenly erupts in a blazing inferno, swiftly reducing the man to ash. The gentle glow of Uriphiel’s necklace fades, and the aetherial blade suddenly disappears, allowing the hilt of the weapon to once more slumber.
  
  The avian turns now to Deidre and walks toward her in a non-threatening manner, dropping to one knee when he is finally within arms reach. “Forgive me for not intervening earlier. Forgive me for forcing you to take on the form of a beast. I had to be certain before I made my advance. I detest having to do this, but from you, I must also ask a favour.” As he spoke in a gentle tone, the avian pulled from his pocket a golden, ruby-decorated ring, and a small length of twine; Of which he had already begun threading through the expertly crafted piece of jewelry to create a makeshift necklace. “My existence is a threat to certain powers that be, and because of this, it is imperative that my identity can not be revealed. Not now. It would have remained in secret this evening had I better timed the potion I had consumed, but alas, the circumstances are as they shall be. I am not sure, but I am with hope, deep down below that canid mind, that you might understand me, or recall these words when you regain your humanity. I can not carry much in the way of monetary compensation, but if you take this ring to an appraiser, you will find that it is more than worth its weight in gold.” Uriphiel was careful in his movement, bringing the makeshift necklace up and over the dire wolf’s head, gently slipping it around her neck.
  
  
• 
  [Deidre] The wolf watches curiously as the hilt is replaced, blade less and innocent once more into the avians sheath. The death of the vampire did not bother her in the slightest. In fact, it gave her quite a bit of satisfaction to watch the undead miscreant burn away into ash and listen to his screams of discomfort. “Go to hell you disgusting piece of trash.” Would be her one thought to herself as she gives a very final snort of approval.
  
  That dark amber gaze meets the man’s once more as he approaches remaining still as he takes a knee and lowers himself to meet her eye level. As he speaks, her ears flick this way and that but one always remains on him intent and curious until he raises the ring and leather to place it about her neck. Well this was unexpected and only slightly offensive. He thinks he needs to buy her silence.
  
  Before the leather can even move past her muzzle, she shakes her head and steps back, ears pinned and a stern look pinning him in place. A massive paw rises and is placed gingerly upon his one crouched knee before it is then thumped on the ground in front of him, raising a small plume of dust. How she wished she could communicate effectively while in this state with other beings not of her kind. Staring at him a second more she then turns to where the mess of her clothes had fallen. There, buried among the shredded scraps is a small satchel. Picking this up between her teeth, she hurries over to the edge of the woods and melts into the shadows of the tree canopy.
  
  It wouldn’t take her long, five or ten minutes tops, but when the Lycan emerges once more, she is back in her human state. A similar shirt is worn, along with her dark pants and riding boots. She must carry several changes of clothes. Her dark hair is a tossed mess, her face streaked with dirt and a small amount of blood. She has a small canteen that she uses to dump a bit of water into her free hand then proceeds to scrub the grime from her face, ridding herself of the evidence of this evenings events. Taking a sip of the water and sloshing it around in her mouth, she then spits it out a few feet away trying to rid herself of the taste of dead blood. Vampires always tasted the worst.
  
  “You don’t need to buy my silence, “birdie”. She gives the avian a small crook of her lips in a smirk as she crouches beside the mangled mess of vampire whose shoulders still sported her knives. Ripping them one by one from his flesh, she proceeds to wash them with the water as well. Only now with a larger amount of the thugs blood on the blades can you hear the fizzle and see the small bit of vapor rising as the water cleanses the steel, “Blessed waters, great for cleaning infections and…” rising, she gives the headless body a swift kick with the toe of her boot, “…ridding yourself of pests.”
  
  Stepping closer to the avian, she realizes she must move her head back slightly to fully look him over and his great height. Having placed the canteen back in her satchel and the satchel now slung across her body, hands perch upon her hips and she gives the stranger a full toothy smile, “My name is Deidre, but you can call me Dee. If hidden you must stay then consider my silence payment for your help. I could have taken them myself but…well we’ll just leave it at that.”
  
  
• 
  [Uriphiel] When the lycan’s head shook and she took a step backward, Uriphiel recoiled, if only slightly. Despite feeling that she posed no danger to him, there was still a small part of the avian that held fear that she might view him as a threat. However, this seemed not to be the case when that massive paw touched his knee, almost as if it were some form of reassurance. Normally, Uriphiel would be swift to dust himself off after such contact, but in recent months he has learned to worry less about such trivial things, especially seeing as his attire of late was nothing more than cheap rags to begin with. Nevertheless, even with such a stoic-looking appearance and a calm demeanor, there was still a part of the man that was screaming on the inside. When Deidre dashed off to undergo transformation, Uriphiel took the opportunity to survey the carnage wrought by the unfortunate events of the evening. From the chest of the one he had first impaled, the avian retrieved his arming sword, Accipiter, wiping any leftover blood and body fluids from the blade onto his pant leg. He was in the midst of slipping the weapon into the sheathe on the left hip when the woman returned, the man now better able to take in her human features with a little more clarity. “Words can not express my gratitude in knowing this, miss. Thank you.” He quiets, listening now as she explains the liquid she was using to wash with, taking note of its strange cleansing properties. It seemed as though it could be of use to his cause in future endeavors to fight the vampiric threat that thrived in Lithrydel. With the Lycan’s assertion, Uriphiel chuckled, nodding his head in agreement. “Yes, of course, I would not doubt that for a second. Your prowess this evening was truly a wonder to behold, truly. Well met, Dee.” The man offered a polite smile and his own name in return, “I am Uriphiel Phandarion, Shar..” The avian pauses, and for the briefest of a moment there is a look of dejection that takes over. “Apologies, that is to say, former Shar of Schezerade’s twenty-first battalion.” Before Uriphiel could say anything else, the sound of a wagon not far down the road caught his attention. It was headed their way, most likely to stop in town to visit the local pub or eatery. “I must apologize, Dee. While you may have sworn secrecy, I do not place my faith in those who approach. With the threat disposed of, and town not far, I am certain that you shall find no more danger this evening. Perhaps, one day, we shall cross paths again. And if not, I can only hope that the Divine Three bless your travels with fortitude and everlasting prosperity. Take care of yourself, Dee.” The avian spreads his wings and flaps them with such force that he easily propels himself into the sky, leaving a trail of shimmery, golden feathers to gently dance their way back to the soil below. If Deirdre’s vision was keen in the low light, she may spy something glinting in the moonlight where Uriphiel once stood - that very ring he had originally offered as a bribe. Whether it was left with intention, or it had fallen by accident, was well up for debate.