Not a Sayan
fate0013Máire Crossed her arms in front of her chest, leaning against one wall of the tunnel while the shapeshifter dug their way back toward the surface. She ignored her companions’ comedy routine, her mind still on whatever had provoked the tunnel to collapse on them in the first place, and the noises she had heard coming from beneath them. Hydra… well. Regardless of whatever it was, they would be out soon, and their time here could be freely forgotten.
She glanced over at the shapeshifter, noting a sense of growing agitation. Understandable, considering their apparent distaste for their rodential guide. Máire just needed them to remain patient for a little while longer. After that, their impatience wouldn’t matter anymore. Probably. The shapeshifter slipped further down the tunnel away from them, likely to find some respite from Rat’s chatter.
“Don’t stray too far,” she advised, pulling one boot away from where the shifter had dropped Rat at her feet. The shapeshifter’s moody teenage antics were such a far cry from the friendly persona they’d introduced themself with in the guise of a fellow templar it was almost comical. Possibly funnier than the speed with which they’d dropped that mask.
Her attention was jolted downward by a sudden whine from Rat, her guide falling to the floor in the crumpled heap. He grabbed at his head, muttering something half-deliriously, and Máire crouched down with an outstretched hand gently finding his shoulder to try and rouse him back to reality. Was this an illness of some sort? A bad drug trip? He hadn’t displayed any signs like this before. She looked down the tunnel back the way they’d come, the sound of wild beasts echoing from the deep, then snapped her head in the other direction when a sharp, inhuman shriek cut its way down the passage.
“What’s wrong?!” Máire called out, jumping back to her feet. The shapeshifter hacked violently at the rocks blocking the entrance, then burst through and was out of sight. Máire grit her teeth, swiftly scooping Rat up in one arm before dashing her way through the gap and up toward the surface.
She skidded to a halt and recoiled as a blast of heat hit her face. Something was going on; Máire looked back down the passage from the entrance the shapeshifter had carved out, listening to the steadily growing clamor of frenzied beasts echoing from the labyrinth. She shifted Rat’s weight, debating with herself whether to leave him, but deciding against it.
Máire stepped out of the tunnel, finding herself in a greyscale wasteland pockmarked with similar such holes. A dry wind blistered through the area, and the distant lights of civilization were bare pinpricks on the horizon. Seeing it for herself, she understood why they called this place the Graves. Her focus reasserted itself, and she became aware that the trio were not alone here. The shapeshifter was under attack. An assailant in a green dragon mask and a hood, assailing Máire’s companion with jets of flame. Máire really did appreciate the weird urge supers felt to adhere to a theme.
She raised an arm against the heat, squinting against blasts of steam to take in the full view of the battle unfolding before her. The shapeshifter had taken a woman’s form - was that their actual body? Additional arms grew from their back like tree branches, heads sprouted from their shoulders like seed pods. They danced across the Graves with untamed ferocity, all lashing tails and violent fangs and blasts of water to obliterate stone.
Máire had no idea what had drawn the masked figure’s ire, but it didn’t matter - imposter or not, the shapeshifter would lead her to Bayushi, and that was good enough. A blade manifested by her empty left hand, and Máire launched it into the sky, soaring into the air as it tugged her along after it. Rat began to stir and struggle against her shoulder - ”Be still,” she commanded, quiet in her intensity.
Knives formed beneath her feet, serving to halt her momentum through the air and giving her a platform to stand on, spinning like a top to lash her sword at the masked figure like a blade on a whip. The enemy ducked under it at the last moment, sending the blade clattering across the ground. It burst into silver mist on the third impact.
Máire didn’t stay still, running across the sky using knives as stepping stones, each one launching toward the woman like a bullet as soon as her feet lifted off of them. A zweihander appeared in her hand, and her other cast Rat away from her, trusting his agility to see him to the ground safely. “Go!” She ordered, gesturing in the direction of the Stoneworks. “We’ll catch up!”
Then she leapt into the air, raising her sword above her head with both hands before bringing it down toward the dragon woman.
She glanced over at the shapeshifter, noting a sense of growing agitation. Understandable, considering their apparent distaste for their rodential guide. Máire just needed them to remain patient for a little while longer. After that, their impatience wouldn’t matter anymore. Probably. The shapeshifter slipped further down the tunnel away from them, likely to find some respite from Rat’s chatter.
“Don’t stray too far,” she advised, pulling one boot away from where the shifter had dropped Rat at her feet. The shapeshifter’s moody teenage antics were such a far cry from the friendly persona they’d introduced themself with in the guise of a fellow templar it was almost comical. Possibly funnier than the speed with which they’d dropped that mask.
Her attention was jolted downward by a sudden whine from Rat, her guide falling to the floor in the crumpled heap. He grabbed at his head, muttering something half-deliriously, and Máire crouched down with an outstretched hand gently finding his shoulder to try and rouse him back to reality. Was this an illness of some sort? A bad drug trip? He hadn’t displayed any signs like this before. She looked down the tunnel back the way they’d come, the sound of wild beasts echoing from the deep, then snapped her head in the other direction when a sharp, inhuman shriek cut its way down the passage.
“What’s wrong?!” Máire called out, jumping back to her feet. The shapeshifter hacked violently at the rocks blocking the entrance, then burst through and was out of sight. Máire grit her teeth, swiftly scooping Rat up in one arm before dashing her way through the gap and up toward the surface.
She skidded to a halt and recoiled as a blast of heat hit her face. Something was going on; Máire looked back down the passage from the entrance the shapeshifter had carved out, listening to the steadily growing clamor of frenzied beasts echoing from the labyrinth. She shifted Rat’s weight, debating with herself whether to leave him, but deciding against it.
Máire stepped out of the tunnel, finding herself in a greyscale wasteland pockmarked with similar such holes. A dry wind blistered through the area, and the distant lights of civilization were bare pinpricks on the horizon. Seeing it for herself, she understood why they called this place the Graves. Her focus reasserted itself, and she became aware that the trio were not alone here. The shapeshifter was under attack. An assailant in a green dragon mask and a hood, assailing Máire’s companion with jets of flame. Máire really did appreciate the weird urge supers felt to adhere to a theme.
She raised an arm against the heat, squinting against blasts of steam to take in the full view of the battle unfolding before her. The shapeshifter had taken a woman’s form - was that their actual body? Additional arms grew from their back like tree branches, heads sprouted from their shoulders like seed pods. They danced across the Graves with untamed ferocity, all lashing tails and violent fangs and blasts of water to obliterate stone.
Máire had no idea what had drawn the masked figure’s ire, but it didn’t matter - imposter or not, the shapeshifter would lead her to Bayushi, and that was good enough. A blade manifested by her empty left hand, and Máire launched it into the sky, soaring into the air as it tugged her along after it. Rat began to stir and struggle against her shoulder - ”Be still,” she commanded, quiet in her intensity.
Knives formed beneath her feet, serving to halt her momentum through the air and giving her a platform to stand on, spinning like a top to lash her sword at the masked figure like a blade on a whip. The enemy ducked under it at the last moment, sending the blade clattering across the ground. It burst into silver mist on the third impact.
Máire didn’t stay still, running across the sky using knives as stepping stones, each one launching toward the woman like a bullet as soon as her feet lifted off of them. A zweihander appeared in her hand, and her other cast Rat away from her, trusting his agility to see him to the ground safely. “Go!” She ordered, gesturing in the direction of the Stoneworks. “We’ll catch up!”
Then she leapt into the air, raising her sword above her head with both hands before bringing it down toward the dragon woman.