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More from Fiskpinne
A commission of a human infiltrator character I imagined for the amazing delvers guide to beastworld, drawng by the amazing Pandaking757
And here have a little story of Violet, the human turned harrowed wolf adventurer that I wrote for her.
The din of battle rang like the clarion call of death itself, indistinguishable cries of pain and suffering, struggle and rage all the while flames licked the side of the castle like a hungry beast slavering for its next meal consuming all in it’s wake, fueled by foul sorcery and science.
Inside the main hall two wolves stood back to back clad in blue and gold raiments, Their duke lay dead in front of them, impaled on an invaders blade all the while dozens upon dozens of guards and invaders alike littered the floor like a gruesome Veronettan carpet.
The stench of blood and acrid smoke filled the air as one of the wolves, a female with intensely sharp golden eyes and gray fur drew in sharp breaths, biting through the pain of a wound in her side.
An explosion in the distance made the other wolf startle, stumbling forward before steadying himself, a powerfully built male wolf with green eyes, standing with the adornments of a captain, his raiments stained black with blood from a severe wound at his side.
“They got us… In the end”
His words, raspy and strained all the while he looked out the cracked stained glass window over the breached doorway at a distant moon peeking in through the smoke and clouds, a wistful sorrowful expression on his face.
Snapping out of her trance she looked over to him and drew in a sharp breath only to be reminded of her own wound, coughing she hurried over to his side just as he slumped down over the central dias, a streak of blood painting its side where he slid.
“Caiden!”
Her voice panicked as she fumbled with her pack, strewing a few bandages and poultices on the ground before pulling up a faintly glowing bottle to the wounded captain's lips.
Yet… the wound did not close, another bottle clattered on the floor as he was administered another potion. Why didn’t it close?!
Thoughts ran amok in her head as she tried with a third… glass shattering upon the marbled floor yet the wound continued to not mend.
A hand reached up to grip her shoulder, its weakened grip was still strong enough to make her flinch.
“It’s no use… Whatever foul sorcery was in that blade… it’s killing me, you know it to be true”
He stares into her eyes with an intense look causing her to falter, Her brain abuzz with panicked thoughts, she knows these blades. They will kill once they strike their target, the duke was the first one struck… How did he know?
“Violet…”
She looks at him as he speaks up, his tone soft and tender, rasping for every breath as she sees his shining plate rust from where the wound struck, sparks of arcane energy unraveling before her eyes as the foul curse does its deed.
“No… Save your strength, I’ll find a wa…”
He grips her shoulder tighter causing her to fall silent, his gaze intense again before softening.
“I’m glad I got to meet you Violet… Whatever they got on you you need not struggle anymore. Please… free yourself, if not for yourself… for me”
It was like a sledgehammer struck, the world faded around her as she felt a pit sink in her stomach hearing those words. He knew?! He knew… Of course he knew.
Stunned she could only gape as she stared at him dumbfounded, when had he discovered her?
“I’m glad you chose us in the end… do me one favor… tell me your real name”
Violet drew in a sharp painful breath, a lance of pain in her side reminding her of her own wounds… yet mundane and pressing as they were she couldn’t focus on them right now.
“R-Rachel… How did you know?”
He lets out a chortle that quickly turns into a nasty cough, blackened ooze covering his hand causing him to grimace.
“...Violet suits you better”
He says with a gentle wry smile, reaching up with his fist to punch her breastplate encouragingly. Leaving a bloody mark on the marred steel.
“Live your life, free from your chains… I wish we could have…”
With fading words his arm falls limp as his body slumps against the dias… A final long sigh exiting his mouth.
What happened next was a blur, a mess of memory and emotion… Lost in the fog of grief and loss.
Violet the Brethren… Violet the Deceiver… stands over an ornate wolven mask, the wagon still as she pulls the hood over her head tighter, hands clenched around a piece of blue and gold fabric, rusty red stains adorning the bottom edge of it.
The human stands there, looking at the tool used to usurp the duke, to ruin the lives of so many. Upon the tool that gave her a glimpse into something better, something she squandered herself.
A tool she cannot let go, a comfort and pain all at once. She did not know when the mask had begun to affect her, but it was her eyes that were noticeable first. Turning from blue to intense amber and gold.
But… that only gave her relief and disgust in equal measure, guilt gnawed at her as she stared at it, she would do nothing else but forget that day, forget her actions, forget the pain.
The man she loved, the one she had betrayed, told her to live. And live she did, guilt gnawing at her, loneliness eating away at her and confusion driving her forward.
After that fateful night she had woken up several years later, no clue as to what had happened or how… but the world had moved on without her, the invasion was over and she remained.
The mask became her life. For whatever had happened she was weakened greatly when she came to, near a peaceful village. It felt like her very being had been mauled, grief and guilt hung like shackles across her mind as she wandered aimlessly.
The kindness of strangers kept her going as she ran, from what she did not know. From consequences. From her past… from her memories, she did not know, yet she couldn’t stop for months.
Until finally, on a fateful day she on a whim of one of her benefactors got roped into delving, a merry band of colorful characters… Months went by and slowly but surely the depressed warrior spy found herself opening up.
Joining in on quiet contemplation, drinking and socializing before quickly retreating back to herself, yet… no one seemed to push her, she was aware that they were aware of her having fought against invaders… Yet she did not know if she had told them that or if they had found that out some other place.
But they did not push, they let her slowly crawl back into the light. Until guilt became too heavy to bear, She… Rachel had worked for the invaders, for a vain promise of saving her family, her friends… loved ones from a dying world. Yet they never came over during the exodus. Were they already dead when she served, she did not know and there were no answers.
Yet here she stands. She had lived as Violet for so long, it felt… more right now, it was a part of her. A connection with Caidan… with the world around her, with herself. Something new that had begun to be built during those wistful days she served as Caidan’s second… The genuine connections she had forged during that time. All marred by her own betrayal and service, but nevertheless it was there.
She felt off in her own skin… running a thumb over the mask's smooth exterior. She had to tell them, come off it what may. Violet would need this to move on with her life and she could put Rachel down… It wasn’t her anymore.
Turning to face the door to the wagon she held the mask and cloth tightly, striding towards the door beyond which a future, full of uncertainty and fear. Yet… hope as well. If one dared to take a leap.
The door swings open into a bright summer's day and she steps out with a deep breath.
And here have a little story of Violet, the human turned harrowed wolf adventurer that I wrote for her.
The din of battle rang like the clarion call of death itself, indistinguishable cries of pain and suffering, struggle and rage all the while flames licked the side of the castle like a hungry beast slavering for its next meal consuming all in it’s wake, fueled by foul sorcery and science.
Inside the main hall two wolves stood back to back clad in blue and gold raiments, Their duke lay dead in front of them, impaled on an invaders blade all the while dozens upon dozens of guards and invaders alike littered the floor like a gruesome Veronettan carpet.
The stench of blood and acrid smoke filled the air as one of the wolves, a female with intensely sharp golden eyes and gray fur drew in sharp breaths, biting through the pain of a wound in her side.
An explosion in the distance made the other wolf startle, stumbling forward before steadying himself, a powerfully built male wolf with green eyes, standing with the adornments of a captain, his raiments stained black with blood from a severe wound at his side.
“They got us… In the end”
His words, raspy and strained all the while he looked out the cracked stained glass window over the breached doorway at a distant moon peeking in through the smoke and clouds, a wistful sorrowful expression on his face.
Snapping out of her trance she looked over to him and drew in a sharp breath only to be reminded of her own wound, coughing she hurried over to his side just as he slumped down over the central dias, a streak of blood painting its side where he slid.
“Caiden!”
Her voice panicked as she fumbled with her pack, strewing a few bandages and poultices on the ground before pulling up a faintly glowing bottle to the wounded captain's lips.
Yet… the wound did not close, another bottle clattered on the floor as he was administered another potion. Why didn’t it close?!
Thoughts ran amok in her head as she tried with a third… glass shattering upon the marbled floor yet the wound continued to not mend.
A hand reached up to grip her shoulder, its weakened grip was still strong enough to make her flinch.
“It’s no use… Whatever foul sorcery was in that blade… it’s killing me, you know it to be true”
He stares into her eyes with an intense look causing her to falter, Her brain abuzz with panicked thoughts, she knows these blades. They will kill once they strike their target, the duke was the first one struck… How did he know?
“Violet…”
She looks at him as he speaks up, his tone soft and tender, rasping for every breath as she sees his shining plate rust from where the wound struck, sparks of arcane energy unraveling before her eyes as the foul curse does its deed.
“No… Save your strength, I’ll find a wa…”
He grips her shoulder tighter causing her to fall silent, his gaze intense again before softening.
“I’m glad I got to meet you Violet… Whatever they got on you you need not struggle anymore. Please… free yourself, if not for yourself… for me”
It was like a sledgehammer struck, the world faded around her as she felt a pit sink in her stomach hearing those words. He knew?! He knew… Of course he knew.
Stunned she could only gape as she stared at him dumbfounded, when had he discovered her?
“I’m glad you chose us in the end… do me one favor… tell me your real name”
Violet drew in a sharp painful breath, a lance of pain in her side reminding her of her own wounds… yet mundane and pressing as they were she couldn’t focus on them right now.
“R-Rachel… How did you know?”
He lets out a chortle that quickly turns into a nasty cough, blackened ooze covering his hand causing him to grimace.
“...Violet suits you better”
He says with a gentle wry smile, reaching up with his fist to punch her breastplate encouragingly. Leaving a bloody mark on the marred steel.
“Live your life, free from your chains… I wish we could have…”
With fading words his arm falls limp as his body slumps against the dias… A final long sigh exiting his mouth.
What happened next was a blur, a mess of memory and emotion… Lost in the fog of grief and loss.
Violet the Brethren… Violet the Deceiver… stands over an ornate wolven mask, the wagon still as she pulls the hood over her head tighter, hands clenched around a piece of blue and gold fabric, rusty red stains adorning the bottom edge of it.
The human stands there, looking at the tool used to usurp the duke, to ruin the lives of so many. Upon the tool that gave her a glimpse into something better, something she squandered herself.
A tool she cannot let go, a comfort and pain all at once. She did not know when the mask had begun to affect her, but it was her eyes that were noticeable first. Turning from blue to intense amber and gold.
But… that only gave her relief and disgust in equal measure, guilt gnawed at her as she stared at it, she would do nothing else but forget that day, forget her actions, forget the pain.
The man she loved, the one she had betrayed, told her to live. And live she did, guilt gnawing at her, loneliness eating away at her and confusion driving her forward.
After that fateful night she had woken up several years later, no clue as to what had happened or how… but the world had moved on without her, the invasion was over and she remained.
The mask became her life. For whatever had happened she was weakened greatly when she came to, near a peaceful village. It felt like her very being had been mauled, grief and guilt hung like shackles across her mind as she wandered aimlessly.
The kindness of strangers kept her going as she ran, from what she did not know. From consequences. From her past… from her memories, she did not know, yet she couldn’t stop for months.
Until finally, on a fateful day she on a whim of one of her benefactors got roped into delving, a merry band of colorful characters… Months went by and slowly but surely the depressed warrior spy found herself opening up.
Joining in on quiet contemplation, drinking and socializing before quickly retreating back to herself, yet… no one seemed to push her, she was aware that they were aware of her having fought against invaders… Yet she did not know if she had told them that or if they had found that out some other place.
But they did not push, they let her slowly crawl back into the light. Until guilt became too heavy to bear, She… Rachel had worked for the invaders, for a vain promise of saving her family, her friends… loved ones from a dying world. Yet they never came over during the exodus. Were they already dead when she served, she did not know and there were no answers.
Yet here she stands. She had lived as Violet for so long, it felt… more right now, it was a part of her. A connection with Caidan… with the world around her, with herself. Something new that had begun to be built during those wistful days she served as Caidan’s second… The genuine connections she had forged during that time. All marred by her own betrayal and service, but nevertheless it was there.
She felt off in her own skin… running a thumb over the mask's smooth exterior. She had to tell them, come off it what may. Violet would need this to move on with her life and she could put Rachel down… It wasn’t her anymore.
Turning to face the door to the wagon she held the mask and cloth tightly, striding towards the door beyond which a future, full of uncertainty and fear. Yet… hope as well. If one dared to take a leap.
The door swings open into a bright summer's day and she steps out with a deep breath.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Transformation
Species Wolf
Size 1604 x 2297px
File Size 3 MB
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