Friendly Fire: A rescue mission, by MiddleEarthRoze & @MacabreFox Jorwen, Sevine, and Rhasha’Dar had reached the front of the inn where the White River Braves had taken up defensive positions. Pools of crimson blood painted a grotesque picture, dotted with chunks of flesh, one that failed to surprise Sevine. She had long ago worked past the smell of death on the battlefield, one that quite frankly consisted of piss, and excrement. However, what did capture her surprise, happened to be the sight of Marcel and Keegan standing in what appeared to be a blast-center of gore. Even more shocking, was the sight of Daelin himself. Last time she saw him was in bed, inside the inn, being tended to by Rhasha.
Sevine quickly learned that she had no time to rush to her comrades. Echoing through the air, the ominous sound of a war horn froze her to the spot. She recognized that sound, and remembered the siege of Windhelm. Appearing on the horizon, a wave of Kamal calvary spilled forth. Like a landslide, adrenaline washed over her, cementing her to the spot. Scrambling for her bow, she fished out a steel arrow and notched it on the string.
The muscles in her forearm seized up, cramping her hand where her aim became shaky. Hot tears of pain welled in her eyes as she fought to keep her arrow level.
Fight through it, Sevine. Ignore this pain that your body is telling you. It is doesn’t matter, it’s not real., she thought, clenching her jaw. Whistling through the air, her arrow sailed overhead into the surge of oncoming Kamal. She notched another arrow when she spotted Daelin charging forth into the fray of battle, firing what arrows he had. Swearing at her incapacitated state, and at Daelin’s recklessness, she leveled her arrow again, and fired off another round into the line of Kamals. Slinging her bow across her back, Sevine hefted the axe at her hip from the tethers. She glanced once at Rhasha and called to him, “We have to get Daelin out of here!”
With leather boots pounding against the dirt as fast as her legs could carry her, ignoring the burning of the muscles in her left ankle that threatened to cripple her, she headed for a Kamal wielding a throwing spear device who had turned his attention on Daelin. “Over here you thick-headed wretch!” She roared, with both hands on the handle of her axe, she swung with all her might, driving the blade in sideways at the gap in its greaves.
Upon re-grouping with the others, Rhasha was unsure what was to be more shocked about - the bloodied remnants of an exploded foe (“How did that even happen?” He thought to himself incredulously), or witnessing Daelin. Not just conscious, but upright, talking. Shock swiftly turned to apprehension as the war horn of the Kamal sounded, eerily echoing in the night air… the battle was not over yet.
“This one will get to him! Watch our backs, and be careful.” Not even hesitating in agreeing to Sevine, the pair launched themselves towards Daelin - what was going through his mind, to throw his life away so carelessly? For one to survive wounds as grievous as his, it was impossible to believe he could give it all up in the slight hope of killing these monsters. Either way, Rhasha felt it necessary to save his ally, his thoughts from earlier only stronger now upon seeing Daelin conscious. It was a good sign - although any hope was certainly marred by the presence of the Kamal cavalry.
With spear still ready in hand, Rhasha knelt by Daelin as Sevine battled the Kamal. Hoping he could tend to Daelin in enough time to help her - or better yet, that she required no assistance at all - Rhasha’s hands passed over Daelin’s battered body, the light blue glow of healing magic casting shadows over the pair.
“This one is glad to see you up Daelin - but could you have not left the Kamal to us?” Rhasha couldn’t help but chuckle over his words, still glad to see Daelin alive.
The axe in her hands did nothing more than glance off the greave of the ranger, if anything, the Kamal in turn, looked down at her as if she were only a pesky fly buzzing around a pile of hot horse manure. Never had she been so close to a Kamal before, at the siege of Windhelm Sevine had taken to the ramparts, and even in the flight from the city, she had evaded them thanks to Leif’s help.
She swung her axe again at the monstrous snow demon, this time the blade cut up as she drove it towards the Kamal’s elbow, aiming for the gap at the exposed portion on the inside. A guttural roar tore from her lungs. Intercepting her oncoming blow, the ranger grasped her by the back of armor, and lifted her off the ground. With the handle of her axe pinched between its over-sized hands, Sevine hung motionless in the air, fear enveloping her. Was this it? Was this the end? With its free hand, the ranger grasped the spear portion of its atlatl, and drove it to impale her.
Fate was on her side. For now. As the spear shaft was much larger than a normal spear, two to three times bigger, she rocked her body back and forth, swinging her legs up above her head. Sevine evaded the spear head, just barely, as she somersaulted backwards over the ranger’s arm. When she sailed over top, she ripped herself free from its grasp, and dropped onto its forearm. Though her limbs trembled from the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she overcame this by shutting out every distracting factor. It was just the ranger and her.
The next few moments, Sevine wished that Roze and Sagax could see her, they would be proud of her. She narrowly missed an oncoming jab of the spear as the ranger thrust it at her, the spear tip whistled past the tip of her nose. With a jump, Sevine hurled herself from the forearm of the Kamal to its shoulder, where her hands caught the edge of its armor. Roaring in its native tongue, the ranger tried to snatch her off. She ducked beneath the massive hands, and found herself seated behind its head. Without her axe, Sevine had to rely on the dagger at her hip. Fishing it out, her hand wrapped around the hilt, and with what strength she had left, drove it into the ranger’s temple.
While she had expected to murder the ranger, it affected him little. Instead it only enraged him. He snatched Sevine from her spot, and flung her as far as he could. Sevine sailed through the air, utterly helpless to gravity. She hit the ground hard, the wind gushing from her lungs, leaving her gasping on the ground like a fish out of water. White and black stars danced beneath her eyelids, blurring the night sky into one. As she struggled to recover, Sevine rolled to one side while blinking away the stars. Staggering to her feet, Sevine spotted Rhasha’Dar trying to assist with Daelin. Each breath she took, a piercing pain spread from the left side of her chest, leading her to believe that she had at least a broken rib or two, if not more.
Sevine was clearly struggling, and Rhasha was stuck between aiding her, and aiding Daelin. While healing the injured Bosmer, the Kamal was closer to the pair than the Huntress, whom he had watched been thrown like a rag-doll through the air, landing heavily. He desperately wished to aid her, but Daelin could not be abandoned now, not after everything they were risking to save him. The Kamal ranger seemed to not noticed them now, attention fully on Sevine - who, at that distance, could be safe for another moment.
“Come along my friend; let us get you to safety.” Daelin was conscious now, barely; his burns were no doubt putting him through hell, and his more recent injuries were likely not helping in the poor man’s agony. Now spent of magicka, Rhasha lifted Daelin onto his shoulder as gently as he could, wincing both on behalf of Daelin as he groaned, and his own discomfort as the movement sent shivers of pain through his chest and back. Even his cut arm and face were beginning to burn, the constant movement beginning to tear the fresh tissue that had formed there. Now balancing the wood-elf on his shoulder, Rhasha struggled to his feet, hoping to get Daelin somewhere safe before Sevine fell once again before the Ice Demon… perhaps for the last time.
‘Now is not the time, Sevine. Keep going. For Do’Karth. For Liliana.’ she chided herself, head spinning still. With her vision clearing, she scrabbled for her bow, thankfully, it had miraculously survived the throw. Closing the distance between them, the ranger was nearly upon Sevine when she lurched away, her boots sliding against the blood-soaked earth as she rushed towards Rhasha who now carried Daelin like a sack of potatoes slung across his shoulders. She spared herself a glance over her shoulder, and watched as the ranger hefted the atlatl aiming to strike her down. So close was she to Rhasha and Daelin that she could almost touch them.
Notching an arrow was a feat in itself, not only did the muscle in her forearm radiate with pain, so did the muscles in her side. Hissing, she circumvented the ranger, drawing his attention away from Rhasha and Daelin, and ended up behind the ranger. There, she aimed for the head again, the bowstring sang with a
twong. Sweat beaded on her brow from the exertion, yet she persisted, and reached for another arrow. As it flew, it sailed over the ranger, headed straight for Rhasha. She swore loudly and reached for another arrow, if Rhasha could only get over the hill with Daelin, she would chase after them.
As adrenaline coursed through Rhasha’Dar’s body, Daelin’s weight on his shoulder seemed to only get lighter as he made his way up the hill. As soon as he crested the top, they would be safe - he could leave Daelin in hiding or with other comrades, and then turn back to aid Sevine. A foolproof plan… but as a curious sensation of numbness hit his back, Rhasha’s pace began to slow, legs growing heavy and head beginning to swim. Looking down for a moment the Khajiit noticed the bloodied arrowhead sticking from his diaphragm, numbness spreading from where it sat, and the entry wound on his back. Stumbling now, Daelin seemed to weigh ten times as heavy than before, and the icy numbness was swiftly replaced with a red-hot agony. Rhasha fell to his knees, right at the top of the hill, and threw Daelin from his shoulder, gasping for breath.
”Again?... How could this happen again?!” Was his only thought, the sight of the arrow sticking from his chest reminding him all too much of the claws of the Spriggan Matron. Rhasha’s vision began to blur, and blood was bubbling up between his haggard breaths. With his diaphragm punctured, he’d likely drown in his own blood before he lost enough to die. Raising one hand, the Khajiit attempted a healing spell; the light throbbed weakly in his palm, and died out after one second. All of his efforts had gone to Daelin, and there was nothing left to help him now. It would seem in his attempts to rescue others, he would have to be rescued himself.
The tides of fate turned, and for once, there appeared a lucky break. One of the White River Braves charged in at the ranger. She took this chance, and bolted as fast as her damaged body would carry her. It was fast enough for her to dodge the ice and rocks being flung by the siege weapons. As she reached Rhasha, her face paled at the sight she found him in, rushing to his side. “Rhasha! No, oh gods be damned. Hold on, friend.” She pulled him from the ground to her, his blood painting her hands crimson, the pain in her side was excruciating, causing her to suck air in over her teeth. With one hand attempting to slow the bleeding, she found herself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Her gut told her that she ought to leave Daelin behind and save Rhasha. Yet, her heart kept her in place, torn between the two.
“We need some help over here!” She roared, her voice straining to rise above the din of battle. Hot tears filled her eyes at the possibility that, just maybe, Daelin and Rhasha would die, and her as well.
Despite his pain and trouble in breathing, Rhasha couldn’t help but smile to see Sevine by his side, and the Kamal nowhere in sight. It was too much to hope that it had become distracted and forgotten about it’s first attacker, but the sight of Sevine was a positive one anyway. While her voice seemed echo-like and far away, he could work out her words. Calling for aid… it was unlikely any would come. The best thing to do would be to get out of sight.
Shifting slightly on the ground, only to grunt in pain at the movement, Rhasha grasped Sevine’s hand lightly, motioning towards Daelin.
“Roll… roll him down the other side of the hill. He’ll be fine… out of sight.” He panted, coughing up more blood between his words, the movement racking his body which then curled up slightly from the pain. With Daelin getting out of the way of the battle through gravity, Sevine could help Rhasha stand, at least to some extent. It saved the injured woman trying to carry two barely-conscious men, anyway.
‘Roll him down the hill? Mara, this best not be the work of Sheogorath. Roll him down the hill he says.’ Sevine could have sworn aloud, though that would do nothing to aid in boosting morale. Releasing Rhasha’Dar from her grasp, she half-sank half-stumbled for Daelin. Thankfully, the Bosmeri scout was no Jorwen Red-Bear, and she found the task manageable. And roll him she did. Daelin went sailing down the hill, bumping and flailing like a ragdoll as he went. He came to rest at the bottom of the hill, she had to admit, even in a time like this, Rhasha had good ideas.
Returning to his side, she slipped her arm about his back, careful to avoid the arrow jutting out from him, and pressed her hand against his side to keep him close. “I won’t let you fall.” She grunted, the weight of him caused strain in her ribs, yet she said not a word, “I’ll get us out of here, I promise.” With that, she started the agonizing process of heading down the slope.
For some reason, this lone arrow seemed to be causing Rhasha far more pain than the claws of the Spriggan before it. Perhaps because it remained lodged inside his chest? Or that it had struck a far more serious place? He didn’t know, but it was too much to stifle a gasp of agony as Sevine got him to his feet, the pair both stumbling under his weight. Blinking away tears in his eyes, Rhasha readied his spear once again with his spare hand; not to attack, but to support. Leaning on it as a walking stick, he felt some of his weight shift from Sevine and balance out. He felt sympathy for her; already injured herself, now here she was with a tall, heavy Khajiit to support.
“It could be worse.” He said with a dry chuckle, voice rasping between laboured breaths as the pair carefully made their way down the hill, the noise of the battle beginning to quiet as they got closer to Daelin. “This one could… have an arrow… in his head.” While the diaphragm was not much better in terms of potential fatality, it was distinctly better than having a punctured brain.
“Aye,” She offered a pained grin, “Or you could be under the boots of Cat-Kicker.” The fact that Rhasha tried to make light of his situation led her to believe, that purpose, he would make it. The Khajiit chuckled at this, decidedly glad that it was Sevine at his side, and not Dumhuvud. The Cat-Kicker likely would have abandoned all three of the injured here - even with Daelin looking better after Rhasha’s healing. Coming to a rest at the bottom the hill, Daelin roll over weakly and offered the pair a tired smile, which was returned in kind. Despite everything, they were all alive. For now, and the future didn’t hold good things - but in the present, they were alive, and glad for it.
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