[center][h1][b]The Cult[/b][/h1][/center] [@fetzen][@13org][@Jerkchicken][@HokumPocus][@Typical][@Elevation] [hr] Nieffar cursed as the situation devolved into choas. Everything had been preceding in a nice and orderly fashion. But then one of the younger clansmen had the bright idea to try and lodge a spear in Hark. He failed to kill the man, thankfully. Hark proving to be swift on his feet, snapped the spear and kill his attacker with the spear leftover head. Nieffar could sense the man’s life drain. The very thing giving him breathe fled from his form. His thoughts and mind dispersing back into the fabric of reality. The Insight seemed almost sorrowful for his loss. Strange that. Nieffar would have thought it glad to be rid of any fool who knew not how to serve. Hark’s attention seemed to have been shifted towards Smit. Good. Nieffar turned away from the commotion showing little concern. He refocused the Insight towards his capture who he slowly he approached. A guardsman charged from behind an axe raised overhead. The Sightless absently raised his stump of a hand behind him. It extruded, with sudden grow, jutting itself squarely into the charging guardsmen’s abdomen. The man kneeled over in pain, his hands cradling his stomach. Nieffar let his extruded arm collapse back in on itself in a rush. He stared down at his oversized capture and sneered. [color=fdc68a]“Get up.”[/color] Nieffar commanded. He poked his sharpened tendril into the giant’s precious cargo. Just enough to draw a bead of blood… [hr] Smit yelped as the man named Drew dashed toward him. [i]DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN![/i] He thought, while quickly jumping out of the way of the man’s attack. He stumbled to the ground, his hand landing on something cold beside him. Smit looked over to his side. A sword? Yes. From one of his fallen comrades. Muttering a quick thanks, to the Unseeing, for a weapon with reach, Smit grabbed the weapon thrust through his attacker before the man had a chance to retaliate. Smit exhaled a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, this man’s death quick drew the ire of Hark. [i]Nails on Metal![/i] Smit thought. [i]Why me?[/i] He scrambled to pick up the giant’s crossbow, only to realize it was unloaded. Smit cursed. [i]Oh, for the love of…[/i] He thought, tossing the crossbow aside. [i]I wasn’t built for fighting![/i] He pulled out a throwing knife instead. Using his other hand, he reached for his deterrents and pulled out his last chunk of wheezing pollen. This man reacted quickly. Smit dared not get close. Instead he needed to stall. Smit threw the pollen at the ground in front of Hark. The pollen dispersed on impact. Yellow specs forming a cloud in the air around Hark. [hr] The one restraining Tayla released his grip. His attention shifting towards the fighting rather than her. She knew what she need to do. Her time on the streets had taught her as much. In that moment, Tayla ran... or rather she ran as best as one could manage with a bruised foot. Tayla fought through her pain and exhaustion. Her mind seemed unfocused, barely able to register what was happening. Why was she running? Right… Nieffar… He… he was mad… mad at her… because Smit... he… A different sort of pain threatened to overwhelm her. A pain from within. Tayla grit her teeth. [color=c4df9b][i]Don’t think about it.[/i][/color] She thought. She was a fool. She had let herself become far too accustom to his… What? Loyalty? His kindness? The way he actually seemed to care? Damn it all! She had begun to feel somewhat secure… Safe… around a man, no less! She had begun to trust… trust that he would have her back! But then… but then… Tayla shut her eyes. [color=c4df9b][i]Don’t think about it![/i][/color] She thought ferociously. She wanted to block away the thoughts. Stuff away the hurt and lock it away. She didn’t want to acknowledge it. Didn’t want to care! And yet… What right did he have to be angry with her?! She saved his life, hadn’t she? Yes… Yes she had but… but in truth… in truth it had been him who had come to rescue her... all because she… because had to… go and… [color=c4df9b][i]That woman…[/i][/color] Tayla felt her pain turn to anger. Her thoughts shifting towards that little princess. The white haired woman. Head held high above the clouds. There she dared to look down on those she deemed beneath her. Oh Little Miss Princess may pretend to care, but Tayla knew better. She didn’t really care about people like Tayla. She hadn’t really seen anything in her. No… All that woman really cared about was herself! A fire burned in Tayla. Rage rushing through her veins. She grabbed hold of it. Channeled it. Used it to push away the pain and the cloud filling her head. People like Miss Princess only pretended to care about people like Tayla. They did it as a way to boost their own sense of self-righteousness. The princess was the type of person who explained away her view of the world and expected others to fall in line and agree. And those who disagreed? Those who saw things differently? The ones standing in direct opposition to her? Well, Tayla figured there was a reason behind the spoil brat’s that practiced cold stare. Yes… It was the woman’s fault. All of this happened because of her! It was her fault Tayla failed the mission. Her fault the target got away. Her fault Smit- [color=c4df9b][i]DON’T THINK ABOUT IT![/i][/color] The words pounded through Tayla’s head. Were those tears streaming down her cheeks? [color=c4df9b]“I’ll kill her.”[/color] Tayla whispered. Her words shook with a mix of rage and sorrow. [color=c4df9b]“Next time I see her… I’ll kill her for sure.”[/color] It was then that Tayla ran head first into Sightless Syella…