"Run through the clouds, friend! They are painkillers! They will dull the pain you are no doubt suffering from in your shoulder!"Twenty or so years ago, Zhaarus the Red would've scoffed at the idea of using painkillers. He was a warrior of the brotherhood of Mahrl! A champion of the arena! But now? He was too old for this shit, and his shoulder hurt like a bitch.
"You have my thanks, comrade!" Zhaarus called out to the medic, giving him a curt nod of his head before he ran straight into the white mist which floated in the air infront of him. A warm, cool aroma washed over his scarred body, as a euphoric calming flooded through his form, numbing the pain in his shoulder. A slight tingling persisted in the wound, but the pain he felt now bore no comparison to that which had scorched his form mere moments ago.
“What the fuck happened back there?!” A well-built figure with greying hair came rushing up behind him.
"I believe that's what they call an ambush," Zhaarus said dryly
"I hear they're all the rage nowadays."The path ahead was stricken with all sorts of rubble, and it took some expert climbing on the old man's part to scramble his way over it, whilst remaining out of the path of the flying bullets.
A few more minutes of running, and they appeared to have lost the bandits. Zhaarus stopped to catch his breath, leaning on the ruins of an old sky car for support.
The roar of gunfire had died down now, and a smattering of decrepit metal towers lay ahead of them. The bombed out ruins of old houses littered the side walks, and a disused train tunnel ran beneath them.
"There's no saying what we'll run into on our way back," Zharrus reasoned
"Our best bet is to take the safer route." He hopped down off of the road, landing with a thud on the train-track below.
"Don't worry; its been years since trains came through here!" He called back up to the group, as he went striding into the ensuing darkness of the cracked stone tunnel.
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