Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25146201-20140108121051/@comment-11457306-20140111165601

Stroggvir's face was a study in pain. "I am truly sorry, milady.  I have no control over the wolf.  I was also an unwilling subject.  I know there is a cure, but the Hagravens set a price so high I cannot meet it."

Anwen slumped against him, defeated, tears running down her cheeks. "No, Raelynn.  We sacrificed much to please Hircine.  I will not have it undone.  He belongs to the Master of the Hunt.  Now so do I whether I like it or not," she paused, sniffling, unable to lift her other arm to wipe away the tears. "Release me.  Go.  Retrieve your armor.  You can pay me back by helping us in our quest."

"A large debt, to be sure," responded Stroggvir. "...and what would that quest be?"

Anwen smiled without mirth, her lips pressed tight against her teeth. "We go to kill Mannimarco."

"The lich?  He has returned?" Stroggvir let her go and she turned to look up at him. His face had paled.

"Yes, the lich.  Give me my axe."

Stroggvir handed her the axe. "I will return.  You will be back in the house?"

Anwen swallowed. Had he tracked her from there? Gods, what a fool she had been. "Yes."

Stroggvir turned and trotted back into the woods. Anwen walked over to retrieve her other axe. Blood dripped from the puncture wounds in her forearms. She continued to cry silently. "I guess we'd better get back.  Thank you for coming to my aid."