Sideblog for the roaming Hellsguard group the "Swarstral". Includes Towering Sentinel of FFXIV Leviathan server. Follows/likes from Sword-and-Lance tumblr. Penned by Merry. (Icon by Xaotician!)
((Meanwhile: Izola and a couple Roegadyn run across another foe.
Features characters belonging to @semper-miles, namely Izola (kinda lol) and Celia, as well as a brief bit of Blue from @gold-eyes-vengeful-heart (which is mine).Â
General content warning for violent combat content and Celia being a bloodthirsty asshat. And the very last section (the all-italics one) has a whOANELLY content warning for parental abuse of the physical and emotional sort, because Merceus is a dick to his (adult) kids--please heed that if youâre sensitive to that sort of thing!))
===
Thorn huffed as she padded in Long Shotâs wake, slipping on downpour-slicked rock. âWhere are we goinâ?â
No answer. Again. Not even a hand-sign, which--not that Thorn was bragging to herself or anything--she could more than read, even in the deluge-dimmed lighting.
âNo, really, sâ storminâ anâ I donât know what yâr haulinâ me out for!â Not that she didnât respect the older Roegadyn enough to just go with it, but still, it didnât mean she wouldnât complain mightily about it in the meantime. The hood of her cloak threatened to get blown back, and she reached up with one hand to keep it in place. Her axe bounced heavily on her back where she had it strapped, and it was taking every onze of effort she could give as a Warrior-in-training to keep up with Shotâs longer strides. That was, until they suddenly stopped altogether as Shot crested a large rocky hill--one of many that dotted Gyr Abania. Thorn wasnât far behind. âWha--?â
But Shot suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her down behind an outcrop, and before Thorn could see anything, she heard it instead.
Metal against metal. Weapons clashing, but with a distinct ringing to them that sounded more Garlean than Eorzean.Â
âIs that all you got?â
That was most definitely not any of theirs. In fact, it sounded as if the brash, harsh voice was coming from behind a helmet than anything else. Thorn couldnât help but hiss a question. âIs that--?â
--
The little Warrior was going to get them spotted, and so Shot reached over with a heavily-gloved hand to shush her. Another quick peek over the rock verified what she had been afraid of; the Izola dragon-woman had taken too long on patrol not just because of some minor distraction, but because she had found one of them. Or maybe the other way around, but the distinction didnât matter--what mattered was that the most-likely-a-Silentius was brawling with Izola and it seemed like Izola was losing.
âCome on, savage! Whatâs the matter?â
Shot was already stringing up her longbow, bending it in a great arc with little more than a quiet hiss of air from between clenched teeth, accentuated with a raspy sound. (The problem with having had her throat cut in an effort to kill her; she never could make sound properly again.)
(She had been a singer, once. She had been peaceful, once. She had used a bow only for hunting, once.)
(Once. And this brat Izola was fighting was behind it.)
âUh, Shot?â Thorn hissed practically in her ear. âYâ canât be serious.â
âCan you only fight Garleans who donât fight back, savage?â
âYâ canât be thinkinâ about shooting an arrow at Garlean armor.â
âYour friend took my sister from me and killed the other--itâs the least I can do to kill you!â
âNo matter how much yâ shoot yâr just gonna piss âer off, anâ my teach doesnâ think a single Warriorâs gonna do much against it either!â
A loud yelp of pain from Izola, and any thoughts of listening flew right out of Shotâs head. Not that she didnât agree with Thorn--in fact, she agreed a lot, that she wasnât really in a position to do anything, magicked arrows or no magicked arrows. She had heard first-hand from the first Swarstral hunters that the pair of sisters had ambushed, that most magic just bounced off of them like it was nothing. But...
Was she just going to sit here and watch someone die again?
(old memories of smoke and fire and the taste of blood and the scent of the charring meat of her village-mates nagged at the back of her mind)
She stood, at that, and took in the situation in a single cold glance over her lower face half-mask. Izola, bleeding furiously from her side; the too-familiar Garlean, standing over her with one fin-bladed arm raised for the kill.
(White, she reflected idly, was a terrible choice for armor color in a place like this.)
It made her snappy shot at her arm all too easy, even at this great a distance. The arrow shattered on the metal, yes, but it succeeded in throwing Celia off-balance, and she had to move one foot awfully fast to keep from getting bowled over.
âShot!â The little Warrior was standing next to her, now, and rain hissed into steam on what little of her skin was exposed as she drew her axe. âShot, come on, yâr just gonna get ki--â
But Shot cut her off with a quick signing, right before she reached for an arrow. [Go. Iâll hold her off.]
And yet, the stubborn Roegadynâs voice rose practically an octave in disbelief as she responded. âLike hells am I doing that!â
Shot glared sideways at her for the insubordination, but she definitely had Celiaâs attention now and she cracked off another shot at her helmet. Another arrow shattered, the armor barely dented, but the concussive force couldnât be pleasant, and that was all Shot could count on at the moment.Â
âOh Eorzean~â Celia raised her voice enough to be heard over the whipping wind and rain. âThat was really stupid.â
Another shot from Shot, but one that was deflected by Celiaâs arm this time.
âAnd you brought a little friend, too. Iâll be sure to carve her up into fish-bait before finally letting you die.â
Shot signed again, rather agitatedly. [Thorn, youâll get killed. Leave.]
âNot while youâre here!â Now the rain was turning to steam entirely around Thorn, as the flames of a Warrior rose around her. âYâr a Swarstral anâ soâm I! We donât run away anâ leave another hunter to some monster like that!â
Celia was advancing slowly, almost sauntering. A coeurl, savoring the stalking hunt of what seemed to be easy, defenseless prey.
âI canât believe that we got such easy payback for Ari. One of that monsterâs friends and some of her hunters, too.â
But Shot coldly stared her down as she nocked and drew an arrow back as calmly as if she was simply target shooting--not like she was trying to fire in a storm on an enemy that just didnât seem to be feeling much from her attacks. Do you even remember me, she wanted to ask, and would have if she could have. Do you remember what you did, or was it just another working day for you?
A faint glint in Celiaâs side caught her attention, though. Bits of a spear-tip had clearly broken off in the armor, but it had broken it, too. Just barely.
A quick tweak of her aim, and Shot fired. This time, the arrow didnât shatter but stuck, even if Celia whipped one arm down to snap it off.
âYes, yes, keep shooting. I always liked watching them struggle in vain to hurt me. Even your dragoon couldnât do anything to me, with a dragon!â Celia spread her arms, still advancing with all the implacability of a landslide. âWhat do you think youâre gonna manage?â
Another arrow slithered from her quiver as she drew it, and this time Shot poured what little magic she had into it, wind and levin swirling around its broad-bladed tip as she nocked it to her bow and drew again, further and further back.
âIâll keep plucking off all of you savages that keep feeding Angeronaâs delusions and bring her back to Father, where she belongs!â
With one more heave that strained every muscle in her torso, Shot drew her bow back to its full intense draw, and it took just a moment to readjust her aim and fire, the arrow thundering across the distance and cleaving the air with ease with the wind magic surrounding it, despite the stormâs best work to throw it off-course. And when it struck the armor, it not only stuck and drove itself a good few ilms into whatever was beneath it, but the levin lurking around the head burst across flesh and armor alike, zapping frenetically and driving the Garlean to her knees with a terrible shriek of pain, her helmet retracting and falling as she did, shorted from the assault.
Good, was the only word Shot could think when she saw and heard it. Suffer.
And yet, even then, Celia managed to struggle to her feet, and though she didnât bother to remove the arrow, she still staggered towards them--something out of a nightmare, from her spasming muscles to the face contorted in a rictus grin of hate. âOh, Iâm g-gonna be drinking f-from your skull f-for that, savage.â
The levin-strike was wearing off already, and Shot didnât think she had enough aether left for another. Her next two shots were quickly deflected with Celiaâs arms, too, and the Garleanâs pace was slowly increasing as the lightning receded. Yet the terrible grin on her foeâs face remained, and Celia drew her arm back as she approached as if to slash--
Something was behind Shot. She heard it crunching.
Shot was quick to dive sideways out of the way and so was Thorn, though whether she heard it or was just following the older hunter wasnât immediately obvious. Celia just cackled as if she hadnât heard and darted over to follow them, but then entire yalms of space lit up in the shape of a machine--
Not just a machine.
The color drained from Celiaâs face as Blue stared down at her, his armor glowing and his jaws slightly opening in a deep, rumbling growl that was more felt than heard.
âNo...no, you get away from me--â
Anything further she had to say was drowned out by Blueâs roar, though, and as his jaws dripped glowing energy, Celia barely had any warning to get out of the way before a beam obliterated where she had been standing, carving a hole multiple fulms deep.
âNo!â She moved with all the speed of a fleeing hawk, and Blue cracked off one, two, three shots after her before she disappeared past a ridge--and even that ridge swiftly had a hole ripped into it by another laser-like blast.
But Shot was already moving, now that her foe had been thoroughly driven back into a retreat. She dived down the slope, the fastest way down there, and rubble and scree battered her as she alternately rolled and ran. Izola was very much unconscious now, and without thinking twice, Shot picked her up and started to walk. She would get her help...and then try and track down where that monster Garlean went.
They werenât going to let her escape for long.
--
A sharp crack of the back of a hand on flesh rang out harshly in the small metal room, and Celia was sent staggering back a good half her height, holding her hand to the side of her face, which was already turning a bruised red from Merceusâ slap. And yet, his voice hadnât raised a fraction and his breathing remained steady and easy.
âYou disobeyed my orders, Celia.â She twitched as he raised his hand again, but this time he just massaged it lightly with the other. âThick-skulled as always.â
âSorry, sir!â She quickly snapped to attention just like she had been trained to almost all her life. âI disobeyed you, sir. It wonât happen again, sir.â
âIt had best not.â He didnât need to make any threats with his children, now. âYou were just supposed to find them and report back so we could attack them together. Not hare off on your own to get ambushed.â A stern voice, condescendingly slow-paced as if explaining to a child or a fool. âBut donât get too comfortable yet; I have another mission for you. And you wonât be doing it alone this time.â
Another armored figure loomed up from the shadows behind him, its movements jerky and erratic. And the second that Celia recognized her dead sisterâs armor, her eyes widened and she froze.
âAriadne wasnât done with her mission, either. And even death canât get you out of carrying out my orders. Now listen closely; I will not tolerate any further mistakes from either of you.â
When My Uncle, whoâs completely deaf, was about 17, he got in a heated argument with my great aunt, his mother.  They were furiously signing back and forth.  Suddenly they both stopped and started laughing and laughing.  My great aunt had accidentally signed, âDonât you yell at me.â
Feat. Devyani the Viera, Angerona the Garlean, Dmitri the Hrothgar
Guest starring: Iron Sights and Long Shot, two femroes belonging to @the-mountainsflame
Iron Sights was not particularly keen to be called on by herself to talk to an Ahtyn; thankfully, it had been easy to convince Long Shot to accompany her, though the huge Roegadyn woman was as silent as ever under her seemingly-endless layers as she settled heavily on the other side of the smaller campfire near the edge of camp, forming a triangle with herself, Sights, and Sage.
Not that Sage didnât send Sights a bit of a look for the extra company. But before she could open her mouth, the Ahtyn seemed to double-guess herself on it and actually said nothing to dismiss Shot, speaking directly to Sights instead.
âI take it you both have something to report.â A statement and not a questionâand one that Sights quickly agreed to with a nod.
âYou bet.â That and she was always amazingly jittery under Sageâs intense, unblinking focus, but she had the basic sense not to say that out loud. âBeen scouting out the Ghimlyt Dark, like you asked us to, though she took the north half and I took the south half, and they are still keeping low over there, apparently...â
Sights glanced sideways at Shot, and Shot made a few signs with her heavily-gloved hands. Signs of agreement, thankfully, though there was a strange sharpness to the motions that betrayed Shotâs tension easily to someone who knew her as well as Sights did.
âSo,â Sage replied with a frown, leaning her elbows on her crossed legs and in turn leaning her chin on her folded hands. âThatâs...it?â She didnât even sound convinced of that. âYou had to have seen more than that.â
âOther than them killing each other when they run across another group of their own that they donât like?â Sights paused. â...Were you expecting something more exciting, Ahtyn?â
A bold question, and judging by the raised eyebrow Sights got, that had probably been too cheekily phrased, even by her own standards.
âSorry.â
âHm.â Sage dismissed it with that single short noise. âI also want what your impressions of it are, too. Not just the facts of what youâve been seeing.â
Sights blinked rapidly and exchanged glances with Shot.
âIâm sure both of you have your own opinions on whatâs happening or not happening,â Sage continued, her impassive face remaining impressively so as she stared into the flickering flames. âYouâve both been out there more than any of the other hunters here because of your skillsânamely, the ability to kill things at a distance and get out of there if you have to.â
Admittedly, Sights couldnât help but be a little put out by that remark! âAlmost makes it sound like youâre calling us cowaââ
âLet me finish.â Sage just narrowed one eye at her until she finally looked away. âAnyway, my point is, you asked whether I expected something more a moment ago. And given what we know of Garleans? I was. Even with them suddenly trying to kill one another because their Emperor died and apparently all of their soldieryâs leaders canât help but throw their men against one another in a whirlwind of gore in order to steal it for themselves...â Her tone made it exceedingly clear what she thought of that notion. â...I would have expected at least someone to try and make a name for themselves by catching us filthy savages off-guard. Especially while a number of warriors of light are off somewhere else. I refuse to believe that they havenât noticed, especially with that one Legatus and his daughters seeming to be on the hunt for our war-leader and her friends. Itâs the perfect shot to attack us, and they havenât taken it. It is concerning.â
She looked between Sights, then Shot, then back again.
âIf youâve seen or even felt anything suspiciousâanything, Iâm keen to hear it from people who have been out there. As the only Ahtyn, our war-leaderâs forbidden me to go out there myself, the arse,â she added in a hiss under her breath. âSo Iâm relying on you.â
âWell...â Sights had just thought she would be interrogated about what she had seen, not what she thought of it, and so she had to pause to think for a moment. âWell, yeah, weâve both been out there a fair amount. Gotten fairly close to them, actuallyââ
âI did warn you not to do that.â But Sageâs irritation was tempered by her own curiosity. âIf you get caught, weâre going to have to fight them to get you back, and that may very well remind them all of who their âreal enemyâ is enough to snap them out of it.â
âI know, I know, but Iâm better than that.â Sights, yet, remained undeterred, even sending an irrepressible smile at her silent compatriot. âAt any rate, yes, weâve heard a few mutterings about that Legatus; apparently they consider him and his kids a little nutty, and they keep wondering if heâs lost the weapon he supposedly has.â
âWhat kind of weapon?â
Sights shrugged. âDidnât say. Then again, didnât our war-leader fight a Weapon, you know, with a capital âWâ and everything? And Sorin and that screwed-up Miqoâte friend of his have one too, just a different oneââ
âThey what.â
...That was right, she hadnât told Sage that yet, had she? âI ah, thought our war-leader would have said something, since she was there too...â
âShe did not, no.â Sageâs voice grew tight with annoyance. âBut continue.â
âSheâs been...busy, I suppose. You know, I wonder if that may be the Weapon those Garleans were talking aboutâthe one that Sorin and friends have, that is. Sorin did say that he liberated it from somewhere.â
âHm.â That only drained the smallest hint of tension from her Ahtynâs shoulders, though... âAnything else?â
âJust gossip about whoâs attacking who. Changes every other bloody day, I swear.â
âShot?â
Both of them were looking at Long Shot, now. And Long Shot in turn looked at both of them, pale gold eyes locking with Sageâs blue ones, and then Sightsâ grey ones. And she signed; thankfully, the both of them were fairly well-versed in the hand-signing of the old tongue enough that neither needed to translate for the other.
||They are definitely planning something.||
Shot glanced between them once more.
||Why are we waiting, Ahtyn?||
Sage tilted her head to one side with a frown. âYouâre awfully eager to charge into battle with them, arenât you?â
Shot huffed. ||No. This is not a matter of revenge. Those that starved and then slaughtered and burned my village are long gone. I hold no hope of finding those who lit the torch and held the blades. I am no battle-mad animal.||
She stared pointedly at Sage, who was quick to speak up again.
âThat wasnât what I was saying...â But she shook her head, cutting off her own indignation in favor of a curt apology. âSorry. I wonât say that again. Keep going.â
Shot gave her a long, long stare, but did eventually blink in acknowledgement and started moving her hands once more.
||But I do not wish to wait until they ambush us with something terrible. The Black Rose, the Weapons, their machina, as Sights keeps calling itâ||
âItâs the proper term, damn it, thatâs why I keep calling it that!â
||âthe longer they have to hide behind their front line and prepare, the more likely it is that something truly terrible will be unleashed. I do not want any of that for us, or the other soldiers we fight alongside.|| Shot sighed, but kept signing. ||They will not stop, Ahtyn. Not unless they are stopped by others. Even with their numbers thinned by civil war, they are dangerous to us.||
Sage was quiet so long that Sights began to wonder if Shotâs extended âtalkâ had lost her somewhereâShot could indeed move fast, to the point that even someone skilled in it like Sights could lose the thread a little.
â...I see.âÂ
Sage spoke so suddenly that Sights jolted a little, and had to hurriedly smooth her dark hair back down in a little subconscious vanity.
âSights?â
âY-Yeah.â She left off playing with her hair and nodded. âI mean, I feel the same? Itâs weird that theyâve gone quiet for so long. Makes one think that theyâre about to do something either dreadful or stupid or both. Even if that Black Rose nonsense really was destroyed in full, they clearly have more than one Weapon, and I donât doubt that the madmen probably have more hiding away somewhereâand ones that are probably not as secure behind their bureaucracy as they used to be, what with said bureaucracy currently trying to off each other for power.â
Sights looked up and pursed her lips a moment in thought. âI have a feeling that this nutâs been cracked open and thereâs no putting it back together, or stuffing the insides back into it.â
âYou think so, Sights? Youâre not just agreeing with your friend?â
But Sights bristled a little, despite herself. âYou do know I used to hunt their ships in the sea for a living once? Saw my fair share of that lot; even privateered alongside some of them, for that matter, even if they did their best to hide that for what I hope are obvious reasons.â It did her heart good to talk of the good old days, though, and she just kept running that thought on with pleasure. âGot friendly with some of those, and sure, a couple of them were stupid enough to think they could double-cross an entire pirate crew because of course they were, but a number of them were perfectly fine to turn tail on their country for one reason or another. And those ones talkedâsome of it just being petty family drama...er, petty in the scheme of what weâre talking about, anyway,â she added with a wince.Â
âBut some of them? Some of them used to be researchers. Scientists. Mechanics, even, and that last one loved to point out every weakness of every blessed thing they used to work on, especially when it was hauled back around to try and bring them back âhomeâ. And not just in terms of the machines and the bizarre science experimentsâthey talked about their politics, too. The only thing keeping certain madmen from using utterly awful shite against their enemies was their own bureaucrats being a little hinky about the notion of messily wiping out an entire continent and poisoning it beyond repair or things of the sort.â She shook her head. âIf that goes away, then things are most definitely going to take a tumble into the wrong hands, and I donât think I need to tell either of you just how bad that could get. Weâd be lucky if it was just Weapons or machina coming to pay us a visit.â
A silence stretched between the three of them. In fact, so extensively so that Shot started rather contemplatively whetting the point of the repurposed fishing gig she also used as a weaponâto deadly and messy effect, but Sights cut the thought off before it could turn into a spiral of anxious nonsense. Thankfully, Sage spoke before she could really lose her mind.
âI think the same.â
âThen...why are we just sitting here?â Sights ventured.Â
âWeâre on the back foot on everything right now, thatâs why.â Sage stared back into the flames over her folded hands. âA chunk of us are off on a different world, you know full well that thereâs a specific set of ridiculously powerful Garleans very intently trying to have a go at our war-leader and her friends and us by extensionâall of those friends being our allies, might I add...â
Sights twitched. Oh, she did indeed know. It was very, very difficult to forget the armored bastards that had not just beaten her but had also taken a shot from a bloody powerful gun and not done more than reel back a moment.
âAnd as much as I dislike saying it, we also canât necessarily just make a one-sided decision to drag the Alliance into it, and they will be dragged into it if we start shite.â Sageâs eyes narrowed slightly at the thought. âEven if we did use that Weapon thing you keep talking about to try and make it look like not us, thereâs a fair chance that it may just spook them into unleashing whatever they have on-hand as well.â
As much as Sage could be a bit of a shite in Sightsâ estimation, she certainly couldnât fault her logic...for now, anyway. âWell, aye, you have that right, I guess.â
âAnd one more thing: where is the Prince?â Sageâs voice hardened. âWe were told he was the one that started this entire thing, but heâs completely disappeared since then, and the last thing anyone needs to be doing is making a spectacle of themselves and, Halone take us all, making him interested in whatâs going on. Things die when that happens.â
Shot stiffened at the mention of Zenos. Sights, admittedly, got a bit nervous about the thought, herself. She hadnât seen him in person like some here had, but the manâs reputation vastly preceded him, and she had heard as much as anyone else in the Swarstral had that even their war-leader, blessed by Halone and wielding the power of a particularly powerful wild-spirit in Her name, had only fought him to a standstill, not beaten him.Â
â...Point,â Sights noted shakily with a shudder. âThat is the only rhyme or reason he has for jumping in the middle of things, isnât it? And if our war-leaderâs busy, too...or even if sheâs not, it isnât like bloody anyone succeeded in actually killing him even after he practically cut his own head offââ
âEnough, Sights. But yes. We can argue about specifics for entire moons if we wanted, but there are a few reasons specifically that we canât ignore.â Sage closed her eyes a moment. âThe Alliance one being first and foremost, to be frank, and the one about Zenos finding the absolute worst timing to stab everyone in the back being the other. We have to settle for being ready instead.â
âWell, if thatâs that...â Sights stood, stretching widely with a yawn. She was almost immediately dwarfed by her much larger companion, and even Sage when the Ahtyn rose as well.
âThat is that. Both of you go back to camp. I need to think a bit more.â
Sights quickly took her leave, as did her ever-silent friend, but her mind was still whirling. They had to âjustâ be ready...but how long would that last?
Iron Sights lightly jiggled one leg as she watched that Miqoâte and her war-leaderâs darkside sparring in the depression slightly below herself and said war-leader, as the Gyr Abanian sun beat down on them from overhead.
She had been easily granted permission to hang around and watch, after she had dropped him off to Daeyona with her compliments about his ability to keep up with Roegadyn in exercising (though not without giving poor Sorin such a cheeky back-slap that it nearly sent him sprawling). It was, legitimately, a bit interesting, even as someone who pointedly kept to her guns and her machines instead of something so in oneâs face as swordplay and such; she had still seen enough of her leaderâs fighting and her other studentâs fighting that Sights would easily pick out the differences between the three of them, even if they were all the same size and armored from top to tail.
Sorin rapidly ducked around one of Khannâs more sneaky swipes and needled her side with the sword-point, and Sights half-smiled in amusement. Daeyona was always the more brutal of the threeâunyielding, taking blows as if they were mere annoyances (even when they absolutely werenât), swinging her humongous sword with blistering force and speed that had this nasty habit of turning anyone caught in its path into pink mist and nondescript gibbets of gore. Vira, on the other hand...well, she had seen them doing a bit of sparring with their girlfriend the Ahtyn, and despite being a dark knight, they still fought like a Monk, pressing in with relentless vitality and striking rapidly and precisely as they could with a big bloody sword in their hands.
Then there was Sorin. She hadnât seen him much around until recently, but she had still heard what he used to do as a Scholar, and that training showed even in a totally different style of fighting. He hung back just barely out of range, defending and parrying until his keen eyes caught a good opening, and he took every advantage of his tactics to use his enemyâs own flaws against themselves. In fact, Khann tried a vicious close-range charge, and she only managed to skitter her claws over his armor before the blunt edge of the practice sword caught her such a whack in her side that it made Daeyona jolt out of the half-doze she fell into.
âHrmâ?!â
But Sights just shrugged, where she was seated at Daeyonaâs side, nodding down to the Miqoâte. âHe got a nice shot off on your dog.â
âSheâs not a dog, Sights,â Daeyona grumpily replied, though she stayed reclined on the ground. âBut even I felt that one. It was a good shot. Even if I wish heâd stop dancing around and get in there before he exhausts his aether waiting.â
Sights cocked her head to one side, still watching the darkside and the dark knight attacking and dodging, attacking and parrying, dodging again... âWell,â she started, thoughtfully, âgotta consider, though, heâs little.â
Daeyonaâs voice gained a hint of dryness. âI know he and Vira are both not Roegadyn, Sights.â
âReally though, think about it. Viraâs still a Highlander; theyâre not necessarily in a bind if something big chews on them a little. Your friend Sorinâs gotten a lot more filled-out, certainly, but heâs still a Miqoâte and heâs only maybe half your sizeâand compared to a lot of other enemies, too.â She looked up thoughtfully. âAnd itâs not every day you see a Scholar being a sword-fighter, either. Heâs not being cowardly, heâs being smart.â
âDid I ever call him a coward?â
âYou did call him easily exhausted.â
âHe told me that in those words himself, Sights.â
âSo he knows it even better than any of us, hm? He seems to be doing fine with it.â
Daeyona just let out a hum at that, and sat up enough to watch the finishing stages of that sparring match. No matter how much endurance one had, little would outlast a creature of pure aether made flesh, and it only took one particularly egregious misstep before Khann cannoned into Sorin and sent him sprawling flat. She rested her forepaws on his chest and growled in his face, but her tail was wagging wildly and Sorin just lightly booped her nose before sliding out from under the wolf-creature. It didnât take the two long to come over, either, Khannâs voice rumbling out ahead of them.
âHeâs clever.â
âAnd you hit quite ferociously.â Sorin sat down next to them with a heavy grunt, wincing. âIâll have bruises for days, Iâm afraid.â
âYouâll get used to them.â
âHm.â He glanced at both Sights and Daeyona, but the former just grinned and the latter rolled one shoulder in a shrug.
âSheâs right, you know. About both of those.â
Sorin chuckled wearily and stuck his blunted practice blade point-first into the dusty earth. âI do still prefer avoiding them.â
âKind of hard to avoid it if youâre a dark knight.â Daeyona had beaten Sights to the thought, so Sights just huffed and shifted in her seat. She could swear that her war-leader could read minds.
âIâm quite aware, yes. But I have a duty to fulfill.â
This time, though, it was Sights who spoke up first, in insatiable curiosity. âWhat kind of duty, eh? Not everyone goes cavorting around using a sword as tall as they are and the forces of daaaarkness,â she noted as she casually wiggled her fingers at the wordâand ducked a swipe from Daeyona, âor there would be a million of you running wild, not just you three. At least that we know of.â
But Sorin just kept looking up at the cloudless sky and closed his eyes, his furry ears flicking. âSomeone dearly departed would have wished it.â
An interesting answer, that. But before Sights could keep prodding him further, something cast a shadow over them (however briefly) and her gaze snapped up just in time to see something flying up there. Something big enough that she immediately grabbed the Razorback and had her finger perilously near the large gunâs trigger. âThe hells?â
Daeyona got to her feet in record time, even if the motion implied she was still having a great deal of aches and pains from that whole incident with the mind control, and her eyes found the strange dragon-y looking thing fast. âWhat is that?!â
Khann snarled and it was only by dint of Sightsâ keen hearing that she heard Sorinâs resigned sigh underneath it.
âNot sure why youâre asking me, war-leader,â Sights hissed, bringing the gun up, though she knew already it was fair useless to do so outside of for intimidation. The Razorback was more a large shotgun, not a sniperâs weapon, and besides, that thing looked massive and even if she got to crack one off right in its face like she did that Garlean jackass in the armor, she doubted it would even feel it, much less be hurt by it. That was something more like a war-machina!Â
Though...not quite, she thought to herself over the wire-tight hum of her own nerves. Machina and magitek and other such things didnât move as fluidly as that; there were a multitude of little twitches and sways that would never have been acceptable out of a machineâ
Sorin sighed again and she sent him a sidelong glance. âAre you going to do something helpful, sir?â
He didnât even respond to the tetchy question, though. He seemed to be thinking, and quite hard, though he came to a decision quickly enough she couldnât ask any more questions. Instead, he actually whistled, loud, and his ears stood upright as he added an earsplitting cat-like chatter to the end of it. (Hunt-speak, she thought she had heard it called once.)
âExcuse youâ?!â But any indignant thought Sights had was completely wiped out of her skull as the big flying thing dived, and with startling speed came to land just yalms away from them...
...Though not without stumbling and face-planting into the dirt so hard that it sent dust and small rocks galore in their general direction.
Sights spluttered and was forced to lower the Razorback as she pawed at her eyes with her free hand, and she very very did not appreciate being half-blinded when she heard Khannâs snarls reaching a crescendo and the deep metal thuds of the very heavy not-machine walking towards them.
âHeâs friendly!â Sorin had to shout to be heard over the noise, and once Sightsâ vision had cleared enough to at least sort of see, she wasnât much reassured by the sight of that big thing towering over them and leaning down towards them sweet Twelve some part of her thought she was going to get eaten for a momentâ!
âYou know this bloody thing?!â Daeyona hissed, though her darksideâs growling subsided enough that it was more a dull rumble now.Â
âRunya and I found him,â Sorin shot back by way of explanation, though he did frantically wave for that not-machine to stay still and it obeyed, even if its four red eyes blinked with small metal clicks in confusion, where they were set in its heavily blue-armored face. âHe...liked us, I suppose. So heâs been staying in the area, keeping low.â
âI...see.â Daeyona paused, though her magitek arm still hummed with tension as she kept a death-grip on her swordâs hilt. âIs this that âmage friendâ you mentioned to me?â
âWar-leader, all due respect...â Sights shook her head, even as she kept nervously glancing at the blue dragon-thing. âBut machines and machina that big donât use magic. Chemical compounds, sure; firing hard things and sharp things and hard sharp things at eye-burning speed, yes. But magic? They donât do thatâat least not Garlean ones and theyâre the only bloody country building things like this.â
The dragon twitched its tail at the mention of Garleans.Â
âIt was probably Allagan.â
âThat...does not make any of this feel any better, Lightweaver,â Sights retorted, unwilling to take her gaze off of the not-machine. âYouâre sure it likes you?â
âYes, Sorin, are you sure?â Daeyona was eyeing it even more warily than Sights herself was, even as the dragon-thing bent a little more to sniff at her with something akin to curiosity. âIt looks like a bloody Weapon. Like that thing in the Praetorium.â
âI do wonder about that.â The dragon-thing had lowered its head enough that Sorin could scritch it under the chin now, though it was exceedingly unlikely the thing actually felt it, in Sightsâ opinion. âHe claims he is. But he is no marauding monster like such things have been for us before. In fact, he seems to wish to just be left alone by anyone involved nowâincluding the Empire.â
Not that Daeyona looked any more convinced than Sights felt. But the other Hellsguard had let her grip slacken on her sword, and she stood stubbornly in place as her hair was blown about by the Weaponâs sniffing. â...So heâs intelligent, is he?â
âYes.â Sorin blinked. âHe speaks with his thoughts; Iâm surprised you canât hear them.â
âWell,â Daeyona grumbled, âIâve gotten fairly good at shutting out things outside my head trying to get into it. Especially with Khann.â
Sights just for a moment felt a little flicker of the same curiosity on that Weaponâs face, but through her head instead, but as disorienting as that was, it disappeared quickly.
But Sorin turned back to the Weapon and gave it a harder pat, to get its attention. âGo on, weâre fine.â The thing hesitated, and he just raised his brows slightly at it. âThey are my friends and they would not so casually betray me, or you if I tell them not to.â
It still hesitated, even if it straightened up.
âItâs alright.â
That finally seemed to settle the matter. With a few heavy paces away, a flare of its tattery-looking wings, and a gust of wind aether so strong even Sights felt it tingling across her skin, it powered into the air once more, sun glinting off of azure armor.
Daeyona and Sights both stared squarely at Sorin at the same time. The Miqoâteâs tail twitched with slight displeasure, but he just stared right back, shifting his eyes between Daeyona and Sights and back again.
â...Why,â Daeyona started as she rubbed her face with her free hand, âdo you always, always make friends with things you shouldnât be making friends with? I know what I said,â she added defensively as Sights sent her a side-long glance with iron-grey eyes. âDonât start.â
âIâm just as perplexed about that as you are.â Sorin shrugged, entirely at ease despite both Roegadynâs tension. âBut I trust that both of you will not prove me a liar to Blue?â
âIs...that its name,â Sights replied, but she did sling her gun so it was hanging back over her shoulder again. âI guess. Might not be too bad to have that on our side if the Empire kicks up shite again. I donât trust the bloody Alliance telling us itâs fine as long as theyâre killing each other and not us. Theyâre planning something.â
And unlike the Roegadyn they liberated from the work camps, tormented and beaten and half-starved into submission...unlike the villages that had been trapped in a tiny chunk of their ancestral lands and all but forced into attacking and ensuring their own destruction...unlike the thousands, maybe millions the Empire had broken under its heel...they could and would be waiting. The Swarstral, those friends of her war-leaderâs, and now even a Weapon itself, perhaps. If it really was that friendly as Sorin insisted, and just keen enough to fight off the Empire it supposedly wanted far away from.
âThey are,â Sorin quietly agreed, âthough none of us know what. But weâre not alone.â
And to that, Sights and Daeyona both nodded, the former speaking for the both of them. âAye, that weâre not. Just hope it stays that way.â
am a big fan of the relationship dynamic that is "scary powerful lady falls in love with total himbo because he's too dumb to be intimidated by her but drinks enough respect women juice on the regular to be very impressed by and genuinely supportive of everything she does"
((An ambush. Continued from this fic here! Putting this fic on this blog since itâs basically Sage and one of the Swarstral...but this is a continuation of an ongoing arc on @sword-and-lance!))
===
Thanalan was bloody loud at night, and Sage wished she had known that before making this plan of hers.
Every chitter of a vilekin too nearby made her jump; beasts of unknown shape called and chuffed in the distance, and it was only by virtue of one of her quarryâs more unusual traits that she wasnât a twitchy wreck about it. It was, after all, very very hard to miss a giant glowing dog-angel in the middle of the night, even with the moon hanging bright as a new coin overhead.
Sweet Halone, her mothers would kill her if they knew she was doing this, though. That, or applaud her; the line between a highly ambitious decision and a very foolish one was paper thin, after all, and even she herself wasnât certain which one this fell under. It was just her, and one of their better archers mounted on Claudius to try and outrun the monster they were trying to lure here. Not that, as an Ahtyn, she was fond of sending one of her hunters out to do that task, but...to be frank, she was a terrible shot with a bow, and on top of that, she would trust no one else with the task she had taken up.
Her grip tightened subconsciously on the thin cord she was holding, that looped around the side of the boulder she was hiding behind, only to dive under the sandy earth. She wouldnât stick this responsibility on anyone elseâs shoulders; at the very least, if this went wrong, only she would be getting the brunt of it, and the chocoboâs rider would get away from it quickly enough.
She caught a flash out of the corner of her eye, though, and she stiffened. She would later refuse to admit that she had been scared at all, but...her heart thudded painfully in her chest and her breathing quickened as she turned her head slightly and caught sight of another flash, from the depths of the canyon that they knew that monster had been hiding.
(Or was it hiding? Maebh had been curiously insistent that it was actually looking for...something, that maybe some of their war-leaderâs worst traumas had imprinted themselves into the aether of the land, and that was how it was trying to attune to her that way. But all of that magic shite had always been a bit beyond Sage, and it was still beyond her now...All she knew and all she cared about was that they needed to hunt it down, they had a list of locations it could possibly be (with this area just outside of Ulâdah being one of them), and at a minimum, they needed to damage that thing so badly that it couldnât keep doing whatever it was planning on doing to their war-leader.)
(All the rest of that nonsense regarding magic and such could be dealt with later, by people who actually knew what they were doing with it. In other words, not her.)
She saw another flash, and her grip tightened on the cord until her knuckles paled with the tension in the moonlight. She was too aware of the residual heat of the day rising from the sands below her; her breath hissed through her teeth and she had to force it to level out, with an ease only gained from practice and experience. She could hear the distant whistle of arrow shots and the thump of large chocobo feet, and the flashes were more sharp increases of brightness in an ever-present glow than discrete instances, now.Â
Itâs just another man-eater, Sage told herself as she strained her senses to their absolute limit. A smart man-eater, but still a man-eater. And they hadnât been able to justify risking the entire Swarstral, when they needed to be around in case this plan didnât work, even if Sage was at least reasonably confident it would--
It was getting closer.
She could hear the hunterâs shouts and the hisses of their each and every shot; some of them might even have hit, judging by the heavy thunk she sometimes heard after one. While mere arrows wouldnât be good enough to bring it down entirely, that wasnât the purpose. It was just to madden it and get it to chase Claudius and his rider without paying too much attention to its surroundings...or, rather, the filled trench it was going to run over.
The light grew so bright that it was casting the boulderâs shadow over her, and she barely dared to peek around it--but dare she did, just in time to see Claudius thundering past, the archer on his back aiming another quick shot at the glowing figure floating after her some yalms behind.
She just had to time it.
It didnât even seem to register her presence, its hostility radiating off of it in waves that she could swear she physically felt. It dripped gold from a few arrow wounds, but it didnât even seem to notice them.
She just had to time it.
It was still just ilms off of the ground, though, and it paid no mind to the visible line of disturbed earth as it advanced on it and then finally--
She just had to time it.
Time slowed to a mere crawl as it sailed right over the trench.
She pulled the cord.
The re-filled ground exploded with terrifying force, spraying earth and raw force up at the creature above it--but it also roared out of the sides too and even though the rock she had braced herself against had been huge and seemingly immovable it suddenly jerked at the force, slamming into her back and into the back of her head and sending her flying forward onto her face and sand filled her mouth and her eyes and her nose and her ears rang viciously after the noise of the explosion overpowered them...
How long she had lain there with her head pounding and her ears ringing and her body aching from the blow, she had no idea. But right as she rolled and pushed herself up, she cursed herself for a fool and braced herself against the boulder. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Colossal said that it was powerful stuff, and she really should have been further away. Her mothers would...well, not have tanned her hide with a switch like some arses she could name, but they certainly would have given her the verbal reaming of a lifetime for that oversight.
She wrapped an arm around herself and coughed in the choking cloud of sand and dust thrown up by the explosion, but she crept around the rock, squinting through the still-floating debris and searching for that thingâs body--
A clawed hand shot out from her left and caught her by the throat, and she barely had time to squeak out a curse before she was lifted a few good fulms off of the ground...and right level with Forgiven Mourningâs face, which filled her vision at this close a range.
She gasped and struggled against it, trying her best to pry its fingers off of her, but she could no more break its grip than she could break solid steel with her bare hands, and its not-mask-not-face stared her down for a few long moments--at least, before it spoke.Â
(Or was it speaking if it was in her head?)
Away.
Stay.
Away.
MINE.
Daeyonaâs face flashed through her mind, as if the thought had been placed there by some outside force.
MINE.
Oh, shite to this. She fully realized she had probably made a few mistakes, thinking this would work--it didnât have a bloody scratch on it after all of that--but if she had to go out, this wasnât the worst way to do it. Her mixed opinions on Daeyona aside, at least sheâd be remembered (hopefully) fondly by her hunters for doing her best to save their sylbei.
She actually spat in its face, with a scornful (if choked-off) laugh. âGo to hell, monster.â
It still stared her down, however, its eyes narrowing just a fraction. But as the heavy thuds of chocobo footsteps approached it once more, it turned its gaze slightly over her shoulder and let out a chuff of air into her face.
And then it threw her down, the blow winding her and threatening to knock her unconscious entirely, but she barely managed to hold on and even managed to sit up just a bit...but it was gone, flying into the sky in a brilliant arc.
Godsdammit. Godsdammit, that had gone wrong in a hurry. But now her mind was made up: she was going to have to haul the entire Swarstral into this, even if she had been wanting to avoid putting all of them into immediate danger if she could help it. But they had no choice, now, did they?
Fine then. She spat out dirt and grit into the torn-up earth, blood tingeing it scarlet. If it wanted to try and make itself difficult? She would make all of them difficult right back at it--they would relish the chance.Â
And this was her duty, personal feelings aside. It couldnât end any other way, could it?
Inadvisable D&D character concepts #137: a human monk, except instead of the standard faux-Chinese flavour text, theyâre modelled after the monastic orders of the Eastern Orthodox Church. Just this big burly Santa Claus looking motherfucker in long black robes, laying monsters flat out with his bare fists. Heâs a member of the Holy Order of Saint Nicholas the Pugilist, a monastic sect founded in memory of that time the aforementioned St. Nick punched Arius of Alexandria in the face for heresy.
the world as we know it has ended and mother nature starts taking back whatâs hers. there are no zombies or cannibals or murderous bandits. the most valued members of the community are those who know how to garden and farm, sew and weave, treat wounds, work wood or build with bricks, cook from scratch.Â
people bond together to begin rebuilding instead of killing each other. everyone teaches each other whatever they do know and works together to figure out the stuff none of them know. books become incredibly valued resources because theyâre often the only way to learn critical information. if someone is elderly, disabled, or otherwise unable to work at the same level as most of the community, theyâre taken care of by the others, not told any sort of âsurvival of the fittestâ bs.
as the generations ware on, communities begin expanding into small cities. some of the settlements even find ways to repurpose solar or wind power on a small scale and have electricity in some of their buildings. storytellers wander the countryside telling tales of the old world in return for some hot stew or a place to rest for the night, and the mythos of the new world start to incorporate elements of the past. the only thing that remains constant is that humans survive, and they do it by working together.
I am so frickin honored you guys thought of me immediately for Amara for #Borderlands3
Iâm gonna get this cosplay together and kill it for you guys. :D This inspired me to do better and reinvigorated my focus. Thank you so much for being so amazing.
theartofmadeline
discoholicmusic
germansingergirl
kaledo-art
dailybridgerton
annaxmalina
titsay
stormborns
