Hank

Post Your Pikcha

@Hank I mean most people's appearances have surprised me when compared to how I imagined them but I seriously didn't at all see you as anything like that 0.0

@SouffleGirl123

Is that a compliment?

Post Your Pikcha

Semi-recent picture.

Rain's Hand [ Culluket x Hank ]

<sub>"All wise men fear the moonlight."
- Inquisitor Kyrgiz</sub>

And there it was, materializing in the light of the roaring bonfire as it sprang forth from the darkness beyond; the wolfman. Its deep growl escalated into a bloodcurdling roar while it gathered speed and went straight for Gregor. The inquisitor barely had time to dive out of the way of the creature's pounce and could only make out the most glaring of details; large fangs slathered with drool, dark claws red with blood and thick, powerful arms. Gregor dropped into a roll as soon as he hit the forest floor, his right hand's iron grip on the hilt of his sword, throwing his hat clear of his head and into the night. He sprang to his feet in a single, fluid, practiced motion as the werewolf barreled past him and skidded through the bonfire, scattering glowing embers and a shower of sparks everywhere. "Get back!" the inquisitor yelled at Loka and raised his blade in a defensive stance.

Unharmed, the werewolf rose to its full height, illuminated from all sides by the diffuse remnants of the fire. Gregor could see it clearly now. Tall, heavy, black, bristling with blood-wet fur and rippling with unnatural muscle. Wicked, hooked claws. Fangs the size of his fingers. A snarling wolf's head on strong, broad shoulders. Maddened eyes alive with light. Absurdly, Gregor was reminded of one of his lessons at the Academia and a snippet of his teacher's words echoed in his ears, lifted from a distant past; "They are also known as the Gravedigger's hounds..."

Gregor felt the rush of adrenaline surge through his body and welcomed it. His muscles tensed and his heart raced as the werewolf approached, slowly this time, adapting to Gregor's agility. The inquisitor thought back to the last time he had faced off against a werewolf. He had been able to get the drop on it then and felled it with a single blow from behind. Now, the element of surprise was lost entirely, and it seemed like Gregor would have to duel the wolfman. It was a dangerous game for both of them. The werewolf's claws were strong enough to rip through leather, skin, flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter, and they carried the curse with them. That alone was a fate worse than death. Gregor's sword, laced as it was with silver, was like poison to lycanthropes.

The trick, Gregor decided, would be to not get killed and play it safe. The werewolf opened with a sideways swipe that the inquisitor could easily evade and Gregor retaliated with a quick slash that nicked the inside of the werewolf's forearm. The superficial cut sizzled and steamed and the werewolf, yowling, retreated like a child stung by a bee.

It would not let Gregor get away with that twice.

Rain's Hand [ Culluket x Hank ]

The retching sounds of Loka's stomach emptying itself in fear and disgust almost made Gregor turn around and say something derisive, but he kept his focus. She was a stranger to all this, he reminded himself. Of course it was revolting. That was precisely why his work was so important. Gregor felt strangely vindicated.

Her suggestion of building a fire was a good one. While keeping his eyes on the darkness of the forest, Gregor backed away and crouched. Broken pieces of wood -- of what was presumably once furniture -- lay scattered throughout the cavern. The inquisitor laid the torch on the floor, making sure that its fire was not extinguished by the wet surface, and gathered the wooden splinters into a pile. He had to grope around with his free hand to do this, his eyes darting back and forth between the night and the cave, while he kept his sword at the ready.

"Help me light it," Gregor hissed and waved the tip of his sword in the direction of the torch. He straightened himself and grabbed the hilt of his longsword with both hands. For a brief moment, Gregor thought he could hear panting.

Rain's Hand [ Culluket x Hank ]

Gregor followed where her finger pointed with his eyes and held out his torch. At the edge of the firelight's illumination, he could see two thin birches that had bark stripped from their trunks at eye level. It seemed Loka was right. Gregor gingerly tiptoed forward, his sword at the ready in his other hand.

They walked in silence as Loka's sense of smell took them deeper into the woods. Gregor hoped to maintain as much of the element of surprise as possible, and though the werewolf would undoubtedly see the torchlight at some point, the forest was thick and masked their approach. Every few dozen yards or so Gregor paused to ask Loka if they were still going the right way.

After what seemed like a tense eternity of walking and shallow breathing had passed, they came upon a lair -- a small cave set into the side of a plateau. It was empty, save for fresh blood and human limbs. Gregor cursed under his breath and wheeled around, expecting the lycanthrope to leap out of the forest at any second. "It knows we are here," he whispered.

Rain's Hand [ Culluket x Hank ]

The inquisitor's brief astonishment quickly made way for focus and determination. "Very well, I believe you," Gregor said in a placating tone. He tried to follow her gestures in the darkness but couldn't see what she was pointing at. He was just going to have to trust her talents here. Witchcraft, he reminded himself. Gregor would have to think about the implications of this later.

"Well," Gregor whispered, thinking hard. "Werewolves rip out of the skin of their human selves when they transform. Blood clings to them. How good is your sense of smell, exactly? Does one of them also smell like human blood?"

It was then that he noticed Loka had placed her hand on his back. Gregor opened his mouth to say something about it but changed his mind. Even through the leather of his greatcoat, her hand felt warm.

Rain's Hand [ Culluket x Hank ]

Gregor abruptly came to a halt and looked at Loka, annoyed surprise on his face. "Are you making fun of me, or can you really smell the wolves?" he asked. There was no telling what witches like her were capable of, so it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. That said... it was equally likely she was just trying to annoy him again. Then again, it was obvious she was afraid -- Gregor could see it in her eyes and hear it in her small voice. Was that humor as a defense or was she being genuine?

The Elder Scrolls: Rage of the Waves

@idlehands Should I wait for you to post first?