Crom's eyes widened when the creature caught his blade. As an instinct, he wrapped his sword hand around the crossguard of the weapon and squeezed, his knuckles white, and the guard digging deep into his hand. He had no intention of losing his weapon. Having no time to take any other precaution, the soldier held his breath, flexing his diaphragm as Soah's fist slammed into his sternum. He felt the breath being knocked from his lungs and gritted his teeth. He could've sworn he heard a crack as the fist connected, but in the heat of the moment he barely felt the actual pain from the strike. What he did feel was the tremendous force, which knocked him to his knees. He kept his hands firmly wrapped around the hilt of his weapon, even as the growing monster in front of him tugged at it. He was almost certain the jolt had torn something in his arm, but gritted his teeth, enduring the pain. The fiery pride in Crom's eyes turned to a frigid glare. Any idea of competition or sport had been flung from his mind. He would have to kill this creature, or at least do his best to incapacitate him. He pulled down on the hilt of the sword with all of his might. Even in comparison to the monster that now towered above him, the Esterlian's strength was nothing to scoff it. Again, he pulled his blade from Soah's clutches. As soon as his weapon was free he dove forward between Soah's legs, immediately turning as he put himself behind the monstrosity. He made a quick horizontal swipe at the back of Soah's knees with tremendous force. The razor sharp blade swept through the cold air towards the werewolf's hamstrings.

The blade sliced through the legs of Soah, but sharpness by itself was simply not enough to cut deep enough to tear the the wolf's now huge and thick hamstrings. The cut drew blood, but it didn't seem to bother the wolf. The beast turned around, drool dripping from his muzzle as he looked down at the man in front of him. All human features were gone. The thing that stood before Crom was now a 7 foot tall monster. Covered in grey hair, rippling with muscles, teeth and claws as sharp as steel, and eyes that seem to glare into Crom's soul. The massive creature shifted it's hand, and brought his clawed hand in a upwards motion towards Crom's face, attempting to burying it's claws into the bottom of Crom's chin. The beast seemed less offensive than Soah when he was barely transformed. The creature acted with an almost magnanimous approach, despite being completely feral. It seemed to the creature that it had full control over the situation, and instead of going for the straight kill, or attempting it, it wanted to hurt the man.

Crom cursed at his ineffective slash as the monster turned. For a moment Crom froze. He had never seen anything like the abomination that stood before him now. All of Soah's human features had deteriorated into the feral characteristics of the snarling nightmare inches away from the soldier. He shook off the fear. Dying was not an option. he would not be bested, especially not by an animal, not until he had done something, anything, to repair his failures. Soah swung one of his great claws towards Crom's face. The Esterlian leaned away, bending his back to avoid the danger. He misjudged the length of the claws, and he felt one of them nick his face as it passed. Blood dripped from the scratch. Crom jutted his blade forward towards Soah's chest with extreme speed, and pulled it back just as quickly. The attack wasn't as strong as the last few, but it was far too quick to be grabbed. Crom moved his feet quickly, moving from side to side. He threw another sharp jab at the wolfman's stomach. He didn't know if wearing the creature down would win the fight for him. Crom knew he had to make some sort of definitive headway quickly or he would almost surely die. he threw another stab towards the werewolf's knee.

The first stab connected with the beast's chest, but it barely pierced the skin. It drew blood, but it didn't go deep enough to do any damage. Mosquito bites on a bear. The second stab connected with the wolf's stomach, penetrating slightly deeper than the previous hit, but it still hardly even affected the werewolf. The wolf seemed almost amused. While Crom was slightly worn from the rest of the fight, the fully transformed Soah was acting with a new vigor, unabated by previous injuries or actions. Before the next stab could connect with the beast's knee, The wolfman bent his knees, and jumped forward, clearing Crom, easily, and landing on the other side. The wolf quickly turned and threw a stab at Crom's back, with enough force to punch through, and perhaps break, the chainmail links of Crom's armor. Despite being of massive size, the wolf moved with more speed and grace than a professional dancer. The beast still seemed to be only toying with the man. Not motivated by rage, hunger, or actual distress anymore, the beast was in no hurry to end the pair's quarrel.

The massive creature cleared the tall mercenary with ease. Crom turned and tried to dodge, but was too late. He managed to turn around and put a bit more distance between them, but the werewolf's claw hit him in the side. He felt them piercing through the links in his chainmail and pierce his side. The mercenary leaped backwards, pulling the claws from his body as he did so. Blood ran down his side, falling into the pale white snow at his feet. The beast seemed to be toying with him at this point. The monstrosity was clearly stronger than he was, and every bit as fast, if not faster. There was only one thing the soldier had over the werewolf: his wits. Crom reached up with his offhand, unbuckling his cloak and dropping it to the snow covered ground. The fallen cloak revealed Crom's massive, heavily scarred arms. It was clear he had seen his fair share of combat. Still, he had never faced an opponent like this. He went into a semi crouched stance, and began slowly circling the monster, hilt gripped tightly in his hands. He pointed the blade at his enemy, trying to think of a way to stop the wall of primal rage that loomed over him.

The wolf man watched his opponent, circling in conjunction with Crom. The beast crouched down, and stopped circling the man, bringing one knee to the ground. The monster was truly a sight to behold. The ultimate killing machine. While years and years of training can teach a man all the rights ways to kill someone, no amount of training can turn someone into the physical specimen that stood here. Soah's fur blew slightly in the wind, as the he glared into Crom's eyes. It had been a while since Soah had had any sort of real fight. The guards back in the town were nothing, just like most people Soah had fought. The man that stood before the beast today was obviously of another breed, but it was unlikely the man could come out victorious against something that had as much speed, strength, quickness, and durability that Soah possessed now. Although, the beast was feral, completely devoid of almost any kind of higher thinking. The beast kicked off the snowy ground with a mighty burst of speed, towards the semi-crouched veteran warrior. Both of Soah's claws were bared, along with his teeth. The speed and power in which Soah lunged was awe inspiring. He aimed both his claws at the shoulders of the man, while aiming his bared teeth at the throat. Even if Crom managed to roll away, or sidestep, this time, Soah's arm span was now long enough to have enough time to bring the man back in.

As Crom circled, he tried to think of anything that would help him in the fight. The closest thing to Soah he had ever met was a wolf... or perhaps a dog. The Lord of Esterl had kept a large kennel of hounds for many years. Usually they were used for sport, fox hunting and the like, but occasionally they were used to track down fugitives. Crom remembered one such incident. He and another member of the Lord's Guard had been pursuing a thief, a man who had stolen priceless jewels from the Lord's wife. They had pursued the man into the countryside, using the hounds to track him. At one point, the hounds had acted quite strangely. They stopped following the trail and whimpered, pawing at their noses. At the time, the two Guardsmen had no idea what was causing it. When they finally caught the man a few days later, they learned. He had left strong spices on his trail to render the dogs useless. Not only had they done that, but the spices had also put the hounds in a great deal of pain. That was his chance. The nightmarish creature rushed forward towards Crom. In a lightning fast motion, the mercenary pulled his flask from his belt with his offhand, popping the cork from it with his teeth. As Soah closed in, he raised the flask, splashing a large portion of the fiery liquid out directly into the werewolf's face. The liquor was incredibly strong, and Crom was betting the wolfman had a powerful sense of smell, something that now worked against him. If the liquid happened to get in the beast's eyes, as it likely would, it would also temporarily blind him. As he doused the creature in alcohol, Crom raised his blade, gripping it tightly in his hand. He dropped the flask after he made his move, bracing the weapon with his off hand and charging the coming monstrosity. He would use the monster's own momentum against him and drive the blade through his chest. He couldn't slow down even a bit. The soldier ducked down as he ran, dodging the wolf's teeth, but taking a claw deep into his shoulder. He ignored the searing pain as blood spurted from his wound, losing no speed as he aimed the tip of his blade towards the behemoth's heart. To an onlooker, it might seem reminiscent of the tales of old, where brave knights charged forward valiantly to bury their lances in the hearts of dragons.

There was a loud yelp, and then nothing. The beast, for a moment was in a great deal of pain and confusion, and in the next moment was completely silent. The beast's claw was dug deep into Crom's shoulder, but it couldn't see that. It couldn't see anything. It also couldn't smell. It was as if a sudden affliction had come over the wolfman, but what made the beast turn from a yelping dog into a silent beast, was what was in it's chest. The blade of the warrior was hilt deep in Soah's chest. The beast was slightly leaning into Crom, and seemed limp for a moment, perhaps even dead, but that would've been too easy. A deep snarling emitted from the back of the throat of the beast. Despite not being harmed by silver, or even fire, the beast was severely hurt, the most Soah had ever been hurt in lycan form. Soah could feel himself slowly coming back into this world, but he didn't start reverting back into his human self yet. Despite still be blinded, Soah stared at where he thought Crom's eyes were, his vision completely black. The claw that was dug into Crom's shoulder pulled itself out, and moved itself slowly, and deliberately towards Crom's throat, where Soah attempted to wrap his massive hand around the man's throat, to strangle him. The wolf in Soah pushed on, despite the grievous injury, but Soah knew that there wasn't enough energy left in his body for the lycan form to stay around for long, and even know he could feel his increased speed and strength starting to fade.

Crom let out the breath he had been holding in as he made his charge. His blade had pierced the monster. The large furry claw pulled itself from his shoulder and wrapped around his throat. Crom stared the wolf coldly in the eyes, even though he was almost certain the monster couldn't see him at this point. Without so much as a sliver of emotion, Crom twisted his blade inside of the wolf, back and forth. He could feel the strength leaving the monster now, it still had a grip on him, but he doubted it could finish him at this point. The twisting of the blade would likely tear Soah's internal organs, a part of his body Crom seriously doubted was as solid as his exterior. Blood poured from Crom's shoulder, but he paid it no mind. The creature seemed to be defeated. He felt warmth on his hand. The wolf's blood was running out down the hilt of the sword. He kept his eyes locked on the monster's blind eyes.

Soah squeezed as hard as he could. Even though strength was leaving him, he had more than enough power to strangle the bastard that was in front of him. Soah could feel the blade poking around in his insides, dicing up whatever organs they could reach. Soah would smile if he could. Shock, combined with the wolf's amazing resistance to pain, made sure Soah wasn't hurting as much as he should be. Soah could feel himself changing back, but he still gripped Crom's throat, lifting his other hand up to the solider's throat, and squeezing even harder. Soah knew he couldn't stand here and turn back into a human with Crom's blade still in him. It would seal his death. Soah leaned in toward's Crom's face, until his muzzle was inches away from Crom. Soah bared his teeth, and licked his lips, drool and blood hanging off the beast's mouth. Although Soah brought his mouth this close to Crom's face, he did not bite, nor attempt to hurt the man. A show of defiance, to show that the wolf still had the power to end the man's life, or do worse. Soah's held his grip for a bit longer, til he thought Crom would nearly be out of breath, before releasing. Soah gripped the solider's wrist, to stop the twisting, and slowly backed up, removing himself from the blade. Soah wasn't even quite back into his human form, but now at least he was fully aware. The beast took a few steps back and leaned onto a tree. Soah was slowly starting to change back, and he could feel the lycan's regeneration working it's magic. It was healing all damage he had sustained, and was preventing his current wounds from persisting into his human form. While Soah would stay conscious through this entire ordeal, he would be more exhausted than a man who had just sprinted the length of continent.

Crom maintained his composure even as the wolf clutched his throat tighter and tighter. He continued twisting all the while, until the wolf grabbed his wrist. Soah leaned forward, bearing his teeth at the soldier, as if to show he could still kill him. Crom's cold stare didn't break. As the wolf leaned forward, Crom's free hand fell to his side, gripping the hilt of his knife. Certainly, the wolf was still capable of killing the mercenary, but not before a six inch blade pierced it's eye. The preparation was for naught. Soah pulled himself from the blade and slumped against a nearby tree, slowly returning to his human form. Crom stood for a moment in silence, his bloodied blade still held out in front of him. He looked around. The snow was stained with blood. he threw a disinterested glance at his shoulder. The wound was quite bad, not something to be ignored, but he had no energy left. He fell to his knees, the snow fell into his shaggy, sweat-stained hair. He laid his sword on the ground in front of him. It was stained with the dark red blood of the werewolf. He looked across the clearing to his adversary. He had survived the fight, but only through his lycanthropy. Crom couldn't lie, the fight was harder than anything he'd faced in years, and among the most the dangerous fights he'd ever been in. He looked over to his flask, which lay in the snow beside him. He gripped the wooden container and took a deep drought. He then sighed with disappointment and poured a splash of it into his wound. He didn't even wince at the pain. Honestly, he was more disappointed that he had so little of the alcohol left. He took another sip and corked the flask before falling back into a sitting position, still apparently unable to speak.

As Soah was able to fully turn back into his human form, he was panting and covered in sweat. Soah was left naked, his remaining clothes being torn from his body as he had turned into a lycan. Thankfully, he was warm for now, but he would soon be freezing once the sweat dried. Soah glanced a look over at Crom while still trying to to catch his own breath. "You gonna live, old man?" Soah said, in between breaths, ending his sentence with a sharp spit. There was still blood residue coating his spittle, but otherwise Soah was completely fine. His wounds were completely healed. While Soah could remember most of the fight, once his full transformation had happened, he had blacked out. He knew it was a tough fight, but for a man to go toe-to-toe with what Soah had become, and still be standing be Soah came back to was impressive. Soah doubled over, and placed his hands on his knees. He was completely exhausted, and almost unable to move. He hated this, but at least he didn't have a lung wound to worry about anymore.

Adrian laid, still in the snow, up against a tree. He couldn't believe his eyes to what he just witnessesed. It was amazing, terrible, fear inspiring, and a experience he would never forgot. He was surprised that Crom still stood after what Soah had become. Adrian paled when he realized he had attempted to fight this creature in hand to hand combat. He easily could of died. Adrian looked at Soah, and slowly stood up. After a moment, Adrian spat at Soah's fight. "You're staying here. You're out of the group." Adrian said, still pale, but he spoke with a air of confidence. It was amazing that Adrian, even after witnessing something like what had just transpired, that he could still keep up his own bravado. Adrian turned his back to Soah, and rushed over to Crom. Crom seemed to be handling himself just fine, so Adrian didn't bother him, but he honestly worried if the his friend would survive.

Johnathon had dived aside into the snow as the fighters came to blows. He crawled away, staying low and away from the noisy battle that ensued for fear of being caught in the crossfire. Whatever Soah had turned into, that was it, that was the end. His travels ended here, miserably dragging himself through the snow. A yelp, incongruous with the snarls and roars of the beast, alerted him and he spun in the snow. He was covered in the powder and swept some of it off his chest to see. There were Crom and Soah, still locked in struggle, but the beast had begun to degenerate into his original form. John sat and watched, awestruck by the impossibility he was witnessing. A breathless, "How?" escaped his lips, no more than a whisper. The impressed wanderer sat up on his elbows and simply stared at the two battered men, wolf and warrior, and wondered at how they were still alive. Crom was bleeding, however, he could see it from here and no matter how stout the man was they weren't getting anywhere bleeding like that. He rolled over and pushed himself up to his feet before walking towards Crom. He gave Soah a wide birth, circling around the pacified beast as he made his way. "H-hey Crom," His voice caught uncomfortably in his throat, "Y'alright?" What else could he say? He'd just saved their lives.

Crom looked up as his companions came rushing to him. Adrian, now full of his previous vigor again, essentially exiled Soah from the group before coming to his aid. The mercenary could understand the boy's position. Soah was a very dangerous liability, but after fighting him he could also see that having something so fierce on their side could be beneficial, though maybe not worth the risk. Johnathon had run up too. It was obvious the young man was quite shaken up from the fight he'd just witnessed. Crom couldn't blame him, it wasn't every day you saw a seven-foot-tall werewolf. He looked up at his friends and gave a nod and a slight smirk. "Aye, I think I'll manage." He moved his shoulder around. "It hurts like hell, but I don't think I'll be dying today." Crom's voice was back to it's warm and friendly tone, though he still sounded quite gruff. Other than the gaping shoulder wound, one never would've believed he'd just fought a mythical creature.

"Well that was unexpected." Griff said, having stood there in a state of disbelief for much of the fight. "That was some impressive swordsmanship." He added, complimenting Crom's combat prowess. Adrian had effectively banished Soah from the group, and even if the boy's leadership was mostly just humoured, Griff was inclined to agree with this decision as he looked at the slowly regenerating, half wolf half human form of Soah.

"Thanks, mate." Crom replied to Griff with a laugh. The man hadn't helped in the fight, despite being armed, but for that the mercenary couldn't blame him. No man alive could've challenged the monstrosity without a bit of fear. Had he not been in immediate danger of losing his life, he too would've avoided the fight. Crom rose to his feet with a slight wobble. The wound in his shoulder was still bleeding, though it had certainly slowed. He winced. The werewolf's claws had torn his shoulder deep, and his movement had reminded him of the other injuries he had taken. His arms ached from being pulled about by the beast, and his pierced side, though not as serious as his shoulder wound, didn't feel wonderful. His face was sore from the punch he had taken, and his chest was filled with a deep ache. He wondered if the werewolf had shattered a bone. The soldier shook off the pain, wiping the blood from his blade on the side of his leg carefully before sheathing it. He was thankful to the weapon. Had it been of lesser quality he very well may have broken it in the fight. "Perhaps one day I'll get to see your skills with a blade." He said with a smile to Griff, nodding to the longsword that hung at his side. He was curious as to just what the man was capable of. He had an air of mystery about him that the Esterlian couldn't quite decipher.

There were other matters at hand, though. Adrian seemed dead set on ejecting Soah from the party, a point the mercenary couldn't really argue with. He didn't know if he could handle another battle with the beast in his injured state, especially given that Soah now seemed entirely healed. "The lad raises a good point," the soldier said, motioning to Adrian, "Just what do we do with him?" Crom pointed to the naked man who sat across from the party leaned against a tree. Soah was quite formidable, but it seemed unlikely that such a loose cannon could be trusted. His actions in the town also put the party in jeopardy. The Arcarti forces would likely be hunting him, and if they allied themselves with the lycan, they too would be in danger.

John's gaze followed Crom's pointing, settling over Soah. It was a question that, despite everything that had just happened, made him uncomfortable to contemplate. Having a werewolf around was a liability and there wasn't any way around that, he thought. He shuffled a bit on his feet, and wore down into the snow by increments as he mulled, more than the problem, his feelings about it over. That werewolf wasn't going anywhere by the look of him, they'd been attacked and they owed him nothing. After a moment of silence he looked back and forth between Crom and Griff, choosing his words. "I don't like the idea of leaving him, but we can't have this happening regularly." He frowned to himself, it didn't seem like a good enough reason to leave somebody to die, but it was fair, wasn't it? He couldn't answer his own question. "I think..." He sighed with frustration, "I think we'd best just move along, Adrian's right." Before he could turn to walk, a faint rattling become audible from somewhere down the road.

Behind them, the smoke from the burning hulk of the Roumont had ceased as the cracked vessel slipped beneath the waves. Only a dark cloud remained, drifting slowly inland. The town's gates had opened after the guard had been unable to turn anything up in the forest, and the unknown threats to the town had failed to reappear. As soon as the open nature of the town had become apparent, a shabby wooden cart, open topped and packed with crates, crested upon the path behind the party. A pair of black horses pulled it along, pressing deep hoof marks into the snow that were mostly wiped away by the wagon's wheels. A portly, long bearded man sat the helm of the carriage, wrapped securely in a fur collared, black greatcoat. He was, quite apparently, a merchant delighted to finally be leaving Aldrun after the day's festivities. Truly delighted, because a quartet of foot-weary travelers sat atop the crates and on the sides of the wagon, hitching a ride along to wherever they were going. Some of them stirred a bit, and a nod was given to the merchant. The wagon slowed to a stop beside the party, the driver sitting rigid and alert at the sight of blood in the snow. He still looked overconfident approaching such a scene, considering the people in the back were not carrying any obvious weapons. He looked up and down the road, searching for traffic coming and going, before settling his dark eyes on Crom. "That looks like it could use some help. Could it?"

"If this is any indication of what's to come, you probably will." Griff said in response to Crom. Their journey had barely begun and it had already been rather eventful. "I have to agree with Adrian too." He added as the conversation turned to what to do with Soah. "Travelling further with him is just going to create more problems." He said. If he stays with us and this keeps happening, it won't be the smooth, undetected getaway I had planned on, he thinks to himself.

The sound of the cart approaching draws his attention away from the discussion and towards the group of travellers coming up the path towards them. Griff hoped the group would decide to travel with the cart, a larger group was easier to hide in. The merchant driving the cart seemed to be keen on danger, approaching without any sign of caution. Griff decided to let Crom answer the man's question. It had been directed at him after all.

Crom had stood in silence, nodding along with his companion's ideas. It really didn't seem like the best idea to keep Soah with them. He looked up at the man and shook his head. "Looks like this is where we part ways, mate." Crom said, rather blankly. He didn't feel one way or the other about the fact that the party had ejected the werewolf. He mused over the subject for a few moments, before being interrupted by the sound of hooves crunching through the snow. He turned to see a cart being pulled by two large horses, trotting leisurely through the snow. The cart came to a halt just before it reached the party. Crim heard a voice call out asking about his wounds. The old mercenary realized how bad they currently appeared. He was bloody and very obviously armed, and a naked man lay leaning against a tree mere feet away. He pondered what could be going through the merchant's mind. Deciding the best course of action was being friendly, he walked towards the cart, waving to the large bearded man. "Aye, it most certainly could mate." Crom spoke warmly with a smile, trying to dispel any misgivings the merchant may have had. As he spoke he calmly walked over to his cloak and picked it up. He was a bit disappointed to find it soaked with melted snow. He wrung out the garment before stopping in front of the cart. He bowed slightly. "Crom Vastil, and who are you friend?"