Moonbound - A D&D fanfiction

"So, what d'you think's out here?" Lysander glances up at Kassandra.

"Not sure. Reports were kinda vague. Probably just an animal or something," she shrugs.

The main descriptors they got of the beast were 'big' and 'furry'. That didn't really help much, considering how many big and furry animals exist in the woods - could be a bear or a direwolf. Either way, the knight-commander thought that she and Lysander would be able to handle it without too much issue.

Kassandra is six months into her knight training, and even she’s impressed with how she was progressing. Every week, her armor seems to get a little bit lighter and her greatsword a little bit easier to swing. Wielding it is definitely different from the swords her uncle taught her to use, but she’s catching on quick. And she can hold her own in a fight. Mostly. The last six months have been grueling, but they’ve been a breath of fresh air in comparison to her life before. No more lessons on being lady-like or helping her mother around the house, in preparation of being a good housewife. No, this is quite the opposite. And she’s loving every moment of it.

A howl rings out in the distance, and both instinctively reach for their swords.

"See? Told you it'd be an animal," Kass mutters, surveying the area. It’s too dark to see anything, but there are bushes rustling in the distance.

"Yeah, but that didn't sound like any wolf I've ever heard..."

"We'll be fine."

Mere moments after those words left her mouth, the rustling escalates to a crashing. A huge dark shape appears, just barely illuminated by the torch in Lysander’s other hand. There’s a glint of yellow - the beast’s eyes - as it lunges towards them. She doesn’t even get the chance to lift her sword before it’s on top of her.

She hits the ground hard with a scream, her shoulder exploding with pain. The creature clamps its jaws around her shoulder and somehow pierces through her armor with its teeth. All she can do is scream in agony as it tears into her. What the fuck is this thing?

“Fuck! Lysander, get it!” she yells, trying to push it away. It growls at her and is largely undeterred by her attempts to get free.

“Shit. Shit.” He’s panicking. Kass can’t blame him - this is definitely more than they’d been expecting - but she’s also underneath the goddamn thing.

“Lysander!”

He doesn’t answer this time. The beast, however, releases her. It turns to pounce at Lysander, giving Kass a much-needed chance to stand.

She struggles to her feet, clutching at her shoulder. Her whole body aches from being slammed against the ground so hard. Assuming they make it out of this alive, she’s definitely going to have some bruises tomorrow. She glances at the bite, though can’t make out much between her armor and the blood that’s pouring out of it. A later problem, for the moment. She grabs her sword from the ground and advances towards the creature and Lysander.

It snaps at him, but he drives it back. The beast’s ears perk up and it retreats a short distance as Kassandra approaches, looking between them both. Now that it isn’t on top of her, she can get a decent look at it. It’s huge, almost the size of a bear, but not built like one. It’s more like a wolf, though it’s got way more muscle than any wolf she’s ever seen before. And its eyes are... different. She can’t quite put her finger on why. But now isn’t the time to figure out what exactly is trying to kill them, though.

She tries to raise her blade, her shoulder burning horribly. It hurts too much to lift her sword properly. She winces as she lowered it, letting it drop to the ground once more and drawing her longsword. Thank the gods it isn’t my right arm that’s fucked. At least I can still fight.

A gash along the beast’s flank is bleeding, crimson dripping onto the grass below. It snarls, revealing bloodied, wicked-looking teeth. It crouches low to the ground and Kassandra readies her blade, grounds her feet, preparing for it to leap at them again-

Another howl rings out through the woods and the two knights-in-training share a worried glance - there are more? Kass grips her sword so tightly her knuckles ache. She’s not so sure they can take on one of these things, let alone two or - gods forbid - more. The beast shifts and, thankfully, howls in response before turning on its tail and disappearing back into the trees.

“Holy shit,” Lysander breathes, looking up at Kass. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive,” she groans. She sheathes her swords and presses her hand to her wound, trying to stem the bleeding some. Her shoulder throbs and she has to bite back a yelp. “Any idea what that thing was? Fucker bit me pretty bad…”

“Kass… that was a werewolf.”

Her legs seem to turn to jelly. She feels like - well, she has just taken a blow to the chest, but it feels like she got hit again. Werewolf? But that means…

She looks at the gaping hole in her armor. Lysander is still talking - saying something about the commander - but the ringing in her ears is overpowering. What is she going to do now? Will she even be allowed to complete her training if she survives whatever came next? She’s heard stories of how awful lycanthropy could be, how horrific the changes could be. How can she possibly-

“Hey, are you listening?” his voice snaps her out of it. He grips her uninjured shoulder tight, “We’re gonna get you back to the commander, okay? I... I’m sure the healers will have some idea of what to do.”

“I... Yeah, okay.” She still can’t wrap her head around it, barely getting her body to move when he pulls her along.

------

The next thing Kassandra knows, she’s seated on a bed, separated from the others by curtains thankfully, in the healers’ quarters and one of the many healers - Ivory, a cleric - is helping her out of her armor, piece by piece. Soon, all that remains is the padded jacket and the trousers she wears beneath it all. Her pauldron and jacket are ruined, thanks to the werewolf. She’ll have to get them replaced. If she lives.

“Kassandra, dear, we’ll need to remove your jacket and the shirt underneath. Is that okay?” Ivory asks.

“It’s fine, yeah,” she nods. She tries to be as helpful as she can in the process, lifting her arms so Ivory can slide the jacket off of her. The pain in her shoulder spikes when she moves and she winces, quickly dropping it.

The bite has stopped bleeding. Or, at least, Kassandra thinks it’s stopped. It’s hard to tell with the amount of blood along her shoulder and down her back. Dark bruises are starting to form on her chest - where the werewolf’s paws landed when it slammed her to the ground. She’s probably got bruises on her back, too.

“How are you feeling?”

Kass looks up when Ivory joins her on the edge of the bed, a damp rag in one hand.

“My shoulder hurts like a bitch, but...” She shrugs halfheartedly. How is she feeling?

“You’re going to be okay.” Ivory lightly squeezes her arm. “We’ll take good care of you, and you’re going to make it through this. Alright?”

“Alright.” She does her best to sound hopeful, but her heart just isn’t in it. “Where’d Lysander go?”

“He went to go get the commander and let him know what happened.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Now, let’s get this cleaned up...”

Even with the warning and Ivory’s gentleness, Kassandra still flinches when the cleric touches her wound. She grits her teeth, tears of pain welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. It stings horribly from whatever the rag is soaked in - she has the feeling it’s some potion - and her shoulder is throbbing. She grips the blanket beneath her tight with one hand, fighting the urge to rock back and forth. Fuck. She wishes Lysander were here - a distraction from the pain would be nice.

Now that the blood’s been cleaned away, the wound is visible. The bite marks are deep, deeper than any normal wolf’s teeth would’ve gotten, and the skin around them is beginning to bruise. At least, Kass is hoping that the dark tinge around them is just bruising.

“You’re lucky it didn’t go any deeper!” Ivory exclaims. “You could’ve lost your arm!”

Kassandra shudders at the thought. She definitely wouldn’t have been able to continue her training if she lost an arm, even if it isn’t her dominant one.

“Alright, now that it’s clean, I’ll just have to grab something really quick.” The tabaxi stands, offering a smile. “I’ll be just a second.”

“Aren’t you going to heal it first?”

The smile fades quickly. “I can’t, unfortunately. Werewolf bites are... quite tricky to deal with. Normal healing magic just doesn’t cut it, I’m afraid.”

“So, how are you going to-?”

Commander Taliss, closely followed by Lysander, strides around the curtains surrounding her bed, looking her up and down. “How’re you holdin’ up, Four-more?”

She grimaces, “Definitely seen better days.”

Ivory returns with a roll of bandages and binds the wound. Kass tries not to fidget as she does.

“I brought you a shirt,” Lysander announces, once Ivory has finished. “Thought you might wanna change into something clean after…”

“Thanks, ‘Sander.”

Taliss and Ivory step away, no doubt discussing her fate. And, a little awkwardly, she pulls the fresh shirt over her head, wincing a little as she moves her arm.

“So, it can’t just be healed, huh?”

“Nope,” Kass shakes her head. “Wonder if I’ll be stuck on bedrest until it heals or what…”

She rubs at her injured arm. If she lives through the process of becoming a lycanthrope, she hopes that her shoulder would at least be okay - aside from the obvious scar she’s going to end up with.

Commander Taliss returns, and she just can’t hold back the question burning on her tongue any longer.

“Will I still be able to continue my training if I become a werewolf?” Her cheeks grow warm when his gaze falls on her and she realizes what she missed, “Sir?”

“Of course you will.” His expression softens, “I’ve seen a few men turned in my time. But that should be the least of your worries right now. Do you know much about lycanthropy?”

“Not much beyond men transforming into beasts on the full moon, sir.”

Taliss waves a hand dismissively, “At ease, Kassandra. No need for all this formality when your life's on the line here.”

“Er, right.”

“The long and short of it is that you’re going to have a rough few days. Your body’s going to try to fight the infection. Once you make it through that, you’ll transform for the first time. And then we’ll figure things out from there.”

“...You say that like I’m definitely going to survive. Like everything’s going to be fine…” Like my life won’t be turned upside down if I live. Her jaw clenches, muscles tensing. How can he talk like that? None of them have any way of knowing if she’s going to make it through this, or even the night! She bites her tongue to keep quiet, doing her best to hold back words she’s going to regret if she voices them.

Taliss steps closer, resting one hand on her uninjured shoulder and squeezing it, “You’re strong. I have faith you’ll make it through this.”

“And we’ll do everything we can to make sure of it,” Ivory adds.

Kassandra doesn’t respond, staring at the floor. It’s easy to have faith in someone else. Easy to say that everything’s going to be fine, if you aren’t the one going through it. She keeps her head down, hair falling in front of her face, as her vision blurs with tears. She’s never been much of a crier so she holds her breath, doing her best to swallow down the lump in her throat.

“Maybe we should let her get some rest,” Ivory suggests quietly.

“Alright. Goodnight, Kassandra. I’ll be in to check on you sometime tomorrow.”

“Night.”

“Ranar,” he turns his attention to Lysander, “don’t be up too late.”

“Yessir.”

“If you need anything, just give a holler, alright? I’ll be nearby,” Ivory offers.

“‘Kay,” Kass barely manages to force the word out. She can hold herself together until they all leave. She’s not going to cry in front of her commander. A sob is forming in her throat but she is not going to cry in front of Taliss.

“Goodnight, commander, Ivory,” Lysander says.

Taliss and Ivory both leave. Now if Lysander will just get lost, Kass can have a good cry and maybe try and get some sleep.

“Hey-”

Please go away I don’t have the energy-

“-are you okay?”

“I’m fi-” her voice breaks. Just breaks. She tries to clear her throat and try again - pull yourself together Kass - but she can’t. She can’t. How is she supposed to handle this? She’s either going to die or have to live becoming a mindless animal once a month. But what are the odds she’s actually going to survive this? The sob that’s been building in her throat escapes and she breaks.

Tremors overtake her body as she cries, her shoulder aching from the jerky movement. She holds herself tightly, hunching over, trying so, so hard to get her tears under control, but to no avail.

“Kass, it’s gonna be okay-”

“Don’t fucking say that!”

Tears turn to white hot rage in an instant. She can work with anger a lot better than she can work with tears, and she’s on her feet and in Lysander’s face before she has time to think about it; Teeth bared, hands curled into fists, her mother’s voice somewhere in the back of her head reminding her it’s not polite to shout, but she doesn’t care.

“You have no fucking clue if it’s going to be okay! I could die tonight! And all anyone can say is it’s going to be fine! No matter what happens, it’s not going to be fucking fine!” she roars.

“Kassandra-”

“I don’t want to die like this - just waiting and- and hoping that everything will be fine! I wanted my death to mean something, to be some brave sacrifice or… or something. Not just some fucking gamble!”

She’s not even sure how she wants to die. She’s never had to think about it before, it’s never been a topic that crossed her mind. But she knows she doesn’t want to go like this. Who would?

Lysander retreats a couple steps while she pauses for breath. “I’m… gonna go, Kass,” he says quietly. “I’ll be back in the morning before drills start, but I think you probably need some alone time.”

“Fine!” she snaps at his back as he leaves. Didn’t need you here anyways…

Her blood is still boiling. Her fists are clenched so tight her knuckles are aching, and she almost wants to hit something. But she doesn’t. She sinks onto the edge of the bed and holds her face in her hands as the anger begins to ebb away.

Why did she yell at him like that? It wasn’t his fault she got bit. If anything, he’s the reason she lived through that encounter. If he hadn’t been there, she would’ve probably gotten way worse than a single bite. She’s lucky to be alive because of him and she just raged on him. Now she’s alone. Alone when she really, really rather wouldn’t be.

The tears are back. And, well, she doesn’t have any reason to hide them now. She curls up on the bed and buries her face into the pillow, sobbing. She shouldn’t have yelled at him. She should’ve just let him comfort her. But no. She’s got to be the worst friend in the world to treat him so shittily after what he did for her.

Eventually, she’s too exhausted to cry anymore. Resolving to apologize to Lysander the next time she sees him, she drifts off to sleep.

------

When Kassandra rouses from her slumber, it’s an endeavor to even open her eyes. To put it lightly, she feels like shit. Her body is practically drenched with sweat, but she remains wrapped up in her blanket. She’s so hot but at the same time she’s shivering. Her throat and mouth are so dry it’s almost painful to swallow. Sweaty hair is stuck to her forehead, but she just doesn’t have the energy to move. It won’t bother her once she falls asleep, anyway. She’s already starting to nod off again...

A soft hand rests against her forehead. She manages to crack her eyes open just enough to see Ivory leaning over her.

“There’s the fever,” the cleric murmurs. Her eyes meet Kass’ and widen - she must not have noticed her wake. She brushes Kassandra’s hair back out of her face, “How are you feeling?”

“Bad,” is all the voice she can drag out of her aching body. “I need-” She breaks off, coughing.

“I’ll get you some water, don’t worry.”

The cleric turns away, to the small table that stands next to the bed. Kass has to fight to stay awake for the whole second that it takes to fill a cup with water. Ivory sits on the edge of the bed and lifts her upright, propping her up as much as she can with one arm.

“Here you are.” She brings the cup to Kassandra’s lips, tilting it so she can sip from it.

Water has never tasted so good. Kass drinks like she hasn’t had water in days, let alone a few hours. It’s cool and refreshing and there’s a chill going down her throat.

“More?” she croaks, hating how weak she sounds.

“Of course.”

Another cup of water is drained just as quickly as the first. Once she’s finished, Ivory helps her lie down and gets her tucked back in. She spreads a cool, wet cloth against Kassandra’s forehead. A sigh of relief escapes her at the feeling against her flushed skin.

“Are you hungry at all?”

Kass shakes her head. She’s too tired to even think about eating.

“Alright. I’ll let you sleep, we’ll see about food later.”

“Mkay.”

Whatever Ivory says next, she’ll never know. Her eyes close and she’s out cold again.

She’s not sure how many more times she wakes over the course of the day - or maybe days? She has no idea, but it isn’t exactly important to know how long she’s been laid up in bed when her body’s fighting to hold on. More often than not, Ivory coaxes soup and water into her when she’s awake, reapplying that cloth each time before she goes back to sleep.

------

She wakes up feeling much better. The fever’s definitely gone down, she’s still a little warm, but otherwise not bad. And she’s actually staying awake longer than a few seconds, which is definitely a good sign. She can hear the faint pitter-patter of rain against the roof. A bout of thunder has her sitting bolt upright, injured shoulder protesting the sudden movement, and-

This isn’t the healers’ quarters.

Heart somewhere in her throat, Kass surveys the unfamiliar room. It’s small and relatively cozy. The bed she’s sitting in is much larger and softer than the one she’d been in previously. It’s sparsely decorated - a couple torches in braziers, an empty bookshelf against the wall opposite the bed, a backpack on the floor by the door, and a nightstand to her right. A piece of paper with her name written in big letters on it catches her attention.

Kassandra,

Hope you didn’t freak out too much when you woke up! Commander said we had to move you out of town since you’ll probably be transforming for the first time soon. We’ll be back to check on you in the morning. Hope your transformation goes OK!

Lysander

P. S. we left you some food and water in a pack by the door

A shudder goes down her spine. She was lucky enough to survive the infection. That’s only the first part of this whole... process, though. She makes a mental note to thank Ivory for her care the next time she sees her. That is, if she sees her again. She has a sinking feeling that the first transformation will be harder to get through than the initial infection, but she really has no clue.

She’s starting to finally notice the hunger pangs. Better get some food into me. Can’t transform into a werewolf on an empty stomach, right?

She rises to her feet unsteadily, legs weak. Her whole body is achy - her shoulder worst of all. When she stoops down to grab the pack, her head spins. She uses the wall to try and steady herself, the aching in her stomach starting to worsen. She slides the strap of the pack over her shoulder and opens the door, wondering if there’s a table or somewhere she can sit while she eats.

The room beyond is clearly a kitchen. There’s a fireplace, with a cobbled stone chimney leading up and out of the house. Next to it is a large pile of firewood. A large window is on her left, just across the room a short distance. Curtains are drawn shut, so it’s difficult to tell what time of day it is. There are two tables, one for prepping food and one for dining - the latter has a few wooden chairs around it. The table closest to Kassandra is set against the wall near the fire. It’s surprisingly empty. As is the fireplace - it definitely hasn’t been used in awhile.

Well, at least I won’t be tearing up someone’s house…

Another rumble of thunder shakes the cabin. She tosses the pack onto the dining table and makes her way towards the window. She at least wants to know what time it is - part of her wondering if she’ll still transform even if it’s daytime. Could werewolves transform when the sun’s out? Would the storm make any difference?

She doesn’t make it to the window.

Kassandra’s entire body is engulfed with excruciating pain and she cries out as she sinks to her knees, hugging her stomach. She falls onto her side, curling into a fetal position as tremors start to take over.

“F- Fuck ,” she whines, tears starting to form in her eyes. It feels like something’s tearing her apart from the inside. This must be it, then… Whatever gods are listening, please let me make it through this.

There’s an itch on her right arm that quickly changes to a prickling sensation and starts to spread up and down both arms. It goes from annoying to downright painful in mere seconds, like a thousand needles are pricking her skin. She dares to peer at her arm to see what could be the culprit only to find hair growing over her skin. No, not hair. Fur. Dark, thick fur that’s getting longer with every passing second.

A pained gasp escapes as her fingernails begin to lengthen, the tips growing sharper. The same is happening to her toes. Her fingers shrink a little and her palms grow wider and longer with sickening cracks. She shudders, watching as the skin on her palms darkens, hardening, forming black lumps, and growing more fur. They’re reminiscent of a dog’s paw pads. Some strange, horrible combination of a canine paw and human hand.

The prickle of fur growing is spreading further and further; on and around her shoulders, along her chest and back, down her stomach, even on the tips of her ears. Sweat is dripping down her chin and she keeps her teeth clenched, trying to hold back shouts of pain. Tears are spilling down her cheeks, but there’s nothing she can do to stop them. She is helpless, trapped in her own body as it undergoes a horrific transformation.

Her breathing becomes labored as her very insides betray her, swelling and pushing against her ribs. It aches so badly, her torso too small to contain them-

Crack!

Kassandra howls, squeezing her eyes shut, as her back arches of its own accord, bones shifting beneath her growing hide of fur. It’s actually extending, part of it growing out and the all too familiar prickle of fur begins. A tail… Her heart is hammering, throbbing as it grows. There’s a number of horrendous cracks and snaps as her ribcage expands, forcing her chest outwards. She, at least, can breathe properly again. A small mercy, though. Her feet are turning into paws, just the same as her hands, and the fur continues to spread.

Another scream escapes her when her knees snap forward and lock in a semi-bent position. Her toes are shrinking, bones compressing themselves, and her feet are widening. Everything about her lower half is changing - her instep, her ankles, the entire shape of her feet, the length of her legs.

She opens her eyes, tears unceasing, to find that her legs are now that of a wolf’s - powerful, muscled, and much larger than any average wolf. She can’t help but look down at her body, both curious and terrified of the changes she’s enduring. Her clothes are in tatters: the upper half of her tank top is hanging limply off her shoulders and what little remains of her pants is more like a loin cloth than anything.

The fur finally reaches her face, though it’s growing much thinner. There’s a pressure in the front of her skull as her bones begin to push outward. She yells yet again, but the sound that comes out of her is not her voice. It’s a deep sound, the pained cry of an animal. Not Kassandra. Her face continues to reshape itself, forming a muzzle and the telltale black dog’s nose. There is a strange twinge in her jaw. Fangs, razor sharp, grow out of her gums, her molars sharpening. Her ears have grown out too, opening up wider, forming canine ears.

She manages to rise to her feet - her paws? - panting. She lived. She lived through the transformation! She’s alive and she’s a werewolf, but the important part is she’s alive. Her new form is awkward, much larger than she’s used to. And some of the colors have faded from the room, reds and greens turning an ugly yellowy color.

Her ears perk up and her nose twitches. Something outside. An animal. She stalks towards the window, peering out. It’s dark, nothing can be seen beyond the glass. She can see a reflection in the window, but it isn’t her. A beast, massive and hulking, with dark fur and wicked teeth and claws.

Lightning strikes, briefly illuminating the forest. There’s a deer outside, just beyond the window.

Prey.