2nd of Searing, 4622
In the early hours of the morning, the trio abandoned the cover of the Derelict's lobby. Silhouettes stark against the vibrant amber of the rising sun, they followed in a trail atop the stowed Chariot, and with a mechanical roar, they were away in the sand, naught but a plume of black smog in wake of their rush through the jagged, broken earth.
Rustbucket was their destination, a short drive from the site of their headquarters. Once they'd arrived, the party agreed to split for the sake of achieving their goals quickly, then to return to the Derelict to cull the vermin that infested its deepest parts.
Fayeth's nose guided her through the marketplace while Arkash lead Izzy a little further from the settlement of tarps and disorganized shanty homes. Down into a small opening in the earth, the two ventured into a small crevice that stretched on like a scar in the smooth red rock.
"This should do," Arkash said as he came upon a clearing in the cool earth, rays of the sun beating through a gap in the ceiling.
Ahead of them, the level red sand stopped short of a risen boulder. It was there that Arkash placed a variety of objects including an emptied ration pack, the thick skin of a desert fruit, and an empty brass shell, like the rounds he fired from Sky Stealer.
Both hands swiped against each other as he nodded in agreement to his selection, then approached the one-eyed girl where she stood. "The walls will dull the flashes, but there's not much we can do about the noise," he said simply as he lifted the weapon's sling from his shoulder and extended it to the half-elf.
She briefly looked between him and the weapon with a mark of uncertainty, but with a wordless jiggle of the sling, he encouraged her to accept it.
Once the weapon was in her hand, Arkash used his claws to draw a line in the fine sand of the device's bed, then motioned to it "no closer than here, alright? Now let's see your form."
She scoffed a little, "I know how to hold a gun, Ark."
"Good," he said with a single clap of his claws. "Show me."
She paused, one eye fixed upon him while she appeared to think, then brought the stock of the rifle to her hip.
"Let's start with the shoulder," Arkash clarified.
"Why?" She asked, almost impatiently.
"Easier to aim and manage the recoil," came his answer promptly.
Again, she stared, then exhaled deeply before she brought the stock to her shoulder, one hand on the trigger with the other to hold the grip beneath the barrel.
Arkash nodded in approval, then stepped forward to close the gap. Careful with his claws, he adjusted her posture and strengthened her form. "Keep this leg back while you're taking aim, better stability." As the girl looked down to see the adjustment to her form, Arkash pressed to the side of her head and lowered her sight to the scope. "Look through there, too," he instructed. "How does that feel?"
"Better, actually," she spoke amiably, a few shades lighter than her previous tone. "And I just pull the trigger?"
"Keep the dot on the target, and breathe out slowly while you squeeze the trigger."
She did just that, lined up with the empty ration pack, she exhaled and squeezed the trigger, but it caught. She flexed a little harder when it failed to budge, then looked to the weapon with apparent confusion. "It's broken?" Before she met his gaze with scorn, as though it was his fault that the weapon wasn't working.
His eyes lit up with a sudden "oh!" Of recognition. With ease, he reached around and pushed the button on the right side of the trigger. "Left the safety on, sorry." He caught her scowl as he stepped back, and smiled brightly through his burning reptilian lips. "Go ahead, try again."
A slight shake of her head preceded the adjustment of the gun again, and she lined up the shot before she exhaled slowly, focused, and squeezed...
With a thunderous boom, an arc of vibrant blue lightning rushed from the barrel of the gun and ripped through the ration box with ease. Arkash grinned and clapped as she smirked, then adjusted slightly to the right to take aim at the fruit skin, but after pulling the trigger there was no action. Confusion once again took her expression before she looked at Arkash.
"Cooldown," he said.
"I'm not even mad," Izzy retorted.
"No, I mean the gun has to cool down, it's overheating."
"...Oh?" She asked, and looked along the length of the weapon. Nearly ten seconds later, a small bell rang from the stock to indicate that it was safe to fire again. "Why does it do that?" She asked as she took aim for the third time.
"Because it might explode if you shoot it while its it's hot," he explained. "Some modern mage guns protect you from that, so you can keep going without timing in your head and without blowing up."
Such seemed to startle her as she took a moment to process what was said before she nodded carefully. "Oh I see," she said softly, quietly. "It's safe now, right?"
"Yeah," Arkash answered in great confidence. " The bell is on a timer to say the mechanism's unlocked, so you can shoot again. It's usually safe by then."
"...Usually?"
"Yeah," answered the Rath. "I mean I've seen it explode even with the safety, but that's usually because the marksman is firing on cooldown over and over again. Just don't do that and you should be good,"
She seemed to consider for a moment before she nodded in agreement and set the stock back to her shoulder. "Starting to wish I didn't agree to take this thing," she said as she took aim at the fruit skin and quietly pressed the trigger on her exhale. Arkash laughed a breath before the blast of thunder and looked to find that the arc of lightning had knocked over both the empty shell and the skin.
"You sure about that?" He asked with a tilt of his head.
"...Nah," she said as she lowered the weapon. "It is a nice gun, I can't deny that."
Arkash nodded. "Even if you're new to rifles, you should be fine just shooting in the general direction of the Strigoi, the lightning will jump the gap if you miss."
Again, this girl nodded, then looked at the rifle with a gleam of pride in her eye. "Yeah, this will be a cakewalk with you and Fayeth covering me," she began. "I watched you take on like thirty thugs, some of them with the madness. If Fayeth is even half as strong as you then you might not need me," she laughed a little with a sad smile toward the end of her sentence.
Arkash merely nodded. "Well, you can always use your Brand in a pinch, you're sure to save Fayeth and me a lot of effort." At the very least, some extent of injury. The Strigoi appeared formidable, and such was only accentuated by their innate need to feed on the creature, as drawn out by its strength.
Again, the girl fell into silence while she reflected on the thought. After a moment, she spoke up to his discerning gaze. "Does Fayeth know I'm a mage?"
"...I don't think so, why?" Came his prompt counter.
More silence followed by a brief nod began her reply. "I'm really not that good with magic, it's not worth mentioning," she spoke in a tone that harmonized with a confession. "I can't use it to fight, so don't bank on it or anything," she reiterated.
He watched her for a moment, then nodded shallowly. "As you wish..." his consideration seemed to intensify while he stared down the girl, and a shake of his head followed. "Why did you go and get three marks if you're not good at magic, Izzy?"
The enigma that was the badlands Sunderer had raked his mind long enough. With every interaction, he seemed to find something out of place, and though he'd let most of her curiosities slide, he had to draw the line somewhere. What was she hiding?
She stayed silent a moment longer, one eye fixed firmly to the fine red sand as it settled at their feet.
The seconds stretched on, naught but the whistle of the wind above the chasm as the empty sound between them carried uncomfortably long. Though Arkash was quiet and outwardly patient, his suspicion of her grew in those moments of silence, and the limits of his imagination stretched to darker explanations and reasons. It was difficult to imagine how one would obtain three marks of control, scarcely use them, and devolve to the mage-killing art of Sundering as she had.
Her one eye briefly looked from the dirt to lock with his, almost as if to confess there was more to her story than she'd initially shared, then darted from Arkash as the call of Fayeth's voice broke the silence.
"Got everything," she said casually as she descended the ramp of the crevice. "Wurm meat, lamp oil, and they did have a kit for you too, Arkash," she spoke from somewhere behind him.
He continued his fixed stare on the half-elf until he was certain she wouldn't meet his gaze again, then diverted his gaze to the Cardinal. A look over his shoulder settled one of his burning red eyes upon her as she presented the bag of goods and the fresh Necromancer's kit in her hand. A brief smile pulled at his thick lips before he nodded, handed her the funds promised for his new Necromancy kit, then returned to the Chariot.
With naught but the rumbling roar of the machine to fill the quiet rustle of the desert's wind, the three returned to the Derelict.
In the early hours of the morning, the trio abandoned the cover of the Derelict's lobby. Silhouettes stark against the vibrant amber of the rising sun, they followed in a trail atop the stowed Chariot, and with a mechanical roar, they were away in the sand, naught but a plume of black smog in wake of their rush through the jagged, broken earth.
Rustbucket was their destination, a short drive from the site of their headquarters. Once they'd arrived, the party agreed to split for the sake of achieving their goals quickly, then to return to the Derelict to cull the vermin that infested its deepest parts.
Fayeth's nose guided her through the marketplace while Arkash lead Izzy a little further from the settlement of tarps and disorganized shanty homes. Down into a small opening in the earth, the two ventured into a small crevice that stretched on like a scar in the smooth red rock.
"This should do," Arkash said as he came upon a clearing in the cool earth, rays of the sun beating through a gap in the ceiling.
Ahead of them, the level red sand stopped short of a risen boulder. It was there that Arkash placed a variety of objects including an emptied ration pack, the thick skin of a desert fruit, and an empty brass shell, like the rounds he fired from Sky Stealer.
Both hands swiped against each other as he nodded in agreement to his selection, then approached the one-eyed girl where she stood. "The walls will dull the flashes, but there's not much we can do about the noise," he said simply as he lifted the weapon's sling from his shoulder and extended it to the half-elf.
She briefly looked between him and the weapon with a mark of uncertainty, but with a wordless jiggle of the sling, he encouraged her to accept it.
Once the weapon was in her hand, Arkash used his claws to draw a line in the fine sand of the device's bed, then motioned to it "no closer than here, alright? Now let's see your form."
She scoffed a little, "I know how to hold a gun, Ark."
"Good," he said with a single clap of his claws. "Show me."
She paused, one eye fixed upon him while she appeared to think, then brought the stock of the rifle to her hip.
"Let's start with the shoulder," Arkash clarified.
"Why?" She asked, almost impatiently.
"Easier to aim and manage the recoil," came his answer promptly.
Again, she stared, then exhaled deeply before she brought the stock to her shoulder, one hand on the trigger with the other to hold the grip beneath the barrel.
Arkash nodded in approval, then stepped forward to close the gap. Careful with his claws, he adjusted her posture and strengthened her form. "Keep this leg back while you're taking aim, better stability." As the girl looked down to see the adjustment to her form, Arkash pressed to the side of her head and lowered her sight to the scope. "Look through there, too," he instructed. "How does that feel?"
"Better, actually," she spoke amiably, a few shades lighter than her previous tone. "And I just pull the trigger?"
"Keep the dot on the target, and breathe out slowly while you squeeze the trigger."
She did just that, lined up with the empty ration pack, she exhaled and squeezed the trigger, but it caught. She flexed a little harder when it failed to budge, then looked to the weapon with apparent confusion. "It's broken?" Before she met his gaze with scorn, as though it was his fault that the weapon wasn't working.
His eyes lit up with a sudden "oh!" Of recognition. With ease, he reached around and pushed the button on the right side of the trigger. "Left the safety on, sorry." He caught her scowl as he stepped back, and smiled brightly through his burning reptilian lips. "Go ahead, try again."
A slight shake of her head preceded the adjustment of the gun again, and she lined up the shot before she exhaled slowly, focused, and squeezed...
With a thunderous boom, an arc of vibrant blue lightning rushed from the barrel of the gun and ripped through the ration box with ease. Arkash grinned and clapped as she smirked, then adjusted slightly to the right to take aim at the fruit skin, but after pulling the trigger there was no action. Confusion once again took her expression before she looked at Arkash.
"Cooldown," he said.
"I'm not even mad," Izzy retorted.
"No, I mean the gun has to cool down, it's overheating."
"...Oh?" She asked, and looked along the length of the weapon. Nearly ten seconds later, a small bell rang from the stock to indicate that it was safe to fire again. "Why does it do that?" She asked as she took aim for the third time.
"Because it might explode if you shoot it while its it's hot," he explained. "Some modern mage guns protect you from that, so you can keep going without timing in your head and without blowing up."
Such seemed to startle her as she took a moment to process what was said before she nodded carefully. "Oh I see," she said softly, quietly. "It's safe now, right?"
"Yeah," Arkash answered in great confidence. " The bell is on a timer to say the mechanism's unlocked, so you can shoot again. It's usually safe by then."
"...Usually?"
"Yeah," answered the Rath. "I mean I've seen it explode even with the safety, but that's usually because the marksman is firing on cooldown over and over again. Just don't do that and you should be good,"
She seemed to consider for a moment before she nodded in agreement and set the stock back to her shoulder. "Starting to wish I didn't agree to take this thing," she said as she took aim at the fruit skin and quietly pressed the trigger on her exhale. Arkash laughed a breath before the blast of thunder and looked to find that the arc of lightning had knocked over both the empty shell and the skin.
"You sure about that?" He asked with a tilt of his head.
"...Nah," she said as she lowered the weapon. "It is a nice gun, I can't deny that."
Arkash nodded. "Even if you're new to rifles, you should be fine just shooting in the general direction of the Strigoi, the lightning will jump the gap if you miss."
Again, this girl nodded, then looked at the rifle with a gleam of pride in her eye. "Yeah, this will be a cakewalk with you and Fayeth covering me," she began. "I watched you take on like thirty thugs, some of them with the madness. If Fayeth is even half as strong as you then you might not need me," she laughed a little with a sad smile toward the end of her sentence.
Arkash merely nodded. "Well, you can always use your Brand in a pinch, you're sure to save Fayeth and me a lot of effort." At the very least, some extent of injury. The Strigoi appeared formidable, and such was only accentuated by their innate need to feed on the creature, as drawn out by its strength.
Again, the girl fell into silence while she reflected on the thought. After a moment, she spoke up to his discerning gaze. "Does Fayeth know I'm a mage?"
"...I don't think so, why?" Came his prompt counter.
More silence followed by a brief nod began her reply. "I'm really not that good with magic, it's not worth mentioning," she spoke in a tone that harmonized with a confession. "I can't use it to fight, so don't bank on it or anything," she reiterated.
He watched her for a moment, then nodded shallowly. "As you wish..." his consideration seemed to intensify while he stared down the girl, and a shake of his head followed. "Why did you go and get three marks if you're not good at magic, Izzy?"
The enigma that was the badlands Sunderer had raked his mind long enough. With every interaction, he seemed to find something out of place, and though he'd let most of her curiosities slide, he had to draw the line somewhere. What was she hiding?
She stayed silent a moment longer, one eye fixed firmly to the fine red sand as it settled at their feet.
The seconds stretched on, naught but the whistle of the wind above the chasm as the empty sound between them carried uncomfortably long. Though Arkash was quiet and outwardly patient, his suspicion of her grew in those moments of silence, and the limits of his imagination stretched to darker explanations and reasons. It was difficult to imagine how one would obtain three marks of control, scarcely use them, and devolve to the mage-killing art of Sundering as she had.
Her one eye briefly looked from the dirt to lock with his, almost as if to confess there was more to her story than she'd initially shared, then darted from Arkash as the call of Fayeth's voice broke the silence.
"Got everything," she said casually as she descended the ramp of the crevice. "Wurm meat, lamp oil, and they did have a kit for you too, Arkash," she spoke from somewhere behind him.
He continued his fixed stare on the half-elf until he was certain she wouldn't meet his gaze again, then diverted his gaze to the Cardinal. A look over his shoulder settled one of his burning red eyes upon her as she presented the bag of goods and the fresh Necromancer's kit in her hand. A brief smile pulled at his thick lips before he nodded, handed her the funds promised for his new Necromancy kit, then returned to the Chariot.
With naught but the rumbling roar of the machine to fill the quiet rustle of the desert's wind, the three returned to the Derelict.
Image source.
