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Ryu Viranesh -> RE: When Heroes Fail (9/19/2016 21:14:57)
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In the moments after she charged forward, Jana’s head grew heavy with the heady mix of adrenaline and excitement, the unspeakably puissant pull of combat - real, pitched combat - a siren’s song to the former Saint. Though she had been in her share of scraps during the ensuing decade, none had ever been able to replicate the profoundly satisfying tingle that she’d felt every day in the field with her squad. It was an indescribable feeling which burned an indelible afterimage onto the soul and made one feel unequivocally empty for its lack. Yet in the instant she felt her blow to the guardsman’s head connect, everything felt right once more; Jana forgot the Blight, forgot her cousin, and forgot exactly why she was there. All that mattered were the soldiers that stood before her and the singular joy it would bring her to leave them writhing on the stones.
It seemed that fate intended that honor for another, for just as the warrior woman twisted toward her targets they were engulfed by a veritable flood of acid. The foul-smelling liquid cast the remaining Saints from their feet and undoubtedly took them out of the fight, simultaneously quashing the symphony in her spirit down to a single sour note. Though it galled her, to be so close and yet so far, Jana restricted her frustration to a frown and made to follow the seaman. The man’s back was already turned to her, leaving him wholly unaware of the acrid annoyance that she felt at being cheated of her prize. Then she heard the tocsin. The whistle was close, and growing closer as its strident call faded; reinforcements would be here before too long.
It was a split second decision, to leave the group behind, but all of this would mean nothing if they couldn’t actually reach the Temple of Baan. Someone would have to keep the rest of the guard off their trail, and who better than her, the one that was familiar with all of their tricks? The siren feigned innocence as Jana mouthed a goodbye and spun on her heels, dashing into the alley opposite their escape route.
The girl’s gait slowed as she slipped onto the adjoining avenue, forcing herself to make an adequate attempt at appearing innocent while she listened for the sound of approaching troops. Beneath the surface she felt a barely contained anticipation, fingers twitching as she imagined what was to come. Every inch of her body practically ached to be put to use and it was growing difficult to beat back the urge to begin her conquest then and there.
This feels wrong.
Jana came to a sudden halt, frowning inwardly. Where had that come from? She cast a quick glance around her, a few guarded looks turning hastily away as those few brave souls remaining on that particular street took their leave. And at that moment came the whistle, its shrill call nearly deafening now. Jana’s head swung immediately to the right, the sound of armored shoes on stone audible as the klaxon faded. No time for this - gotta head them off. The amazon swallowed and hared down the next cross-street, pressing herself up against the building before her and willing her chest to still.
She waited for the first of their ranks to pass by, then the next, the seconds ticking by as she awaited the approach of her moment. It came - and she struck. Jana stepped out just as the last of the rearguard cleared her alcove, swinging her bundle hard at the nearest Saint’s ribs; the man crumpled before he even knew what hit him. Her second target went down nearly as easily as the first, hobbled by a heavy strike to the leg, but by this point the remainder of the back ranks had turned and drawn their weapons, each carefully eyeing her as they began to form a semicircle.
Normally she’d have taken notice of their attempt to entrap her, but Jana was beyond such things now; she was a wolf and they were a flock of sheep, trying to compensate for their lack of ferocity with numbers. There was no fear in her as she charged forward and to the left, her improvised bludgeoning tool crashing into the soldier’s buckler and shoving him out of formation, her wide follow-up swing driving the Saints on either side of her back as well. A laugh escaped from the wild woman’s lips as she brought the bundle back around to turn aside a sword swing, then spun around to smack the soldier across the chest.
How could this feel wrong? If anything, Jana felt more right than she had since she’d broken her Oath. This was where she belonged. A faint buzz raced along her arms as she drew up more mass from her legs, further enhancing the power of the strikes that had already broken three Saints. The manic smile that graced Jana’s face would have made the Magister proud, her transcendent joy almost overpowering as her next blow dropped a guard like a sack of bricks. There were still so many targets, and they even shied away from her now, carefully keeping their distance to avoid taking the full brunt of her strength. How foolish that they thought they could trap - could contain - her, no matter how hard they tried.
Their cowardice made it all the more confusing when her right arm suddenly exploded with pain, her sack slipping from the nerveless fingers that had once held it aloft. She was sent stumbling forward, her lighter legs giving under the force of the blow and sending the stones below rushing up to meet her. Jana lay there, eyes wide as she caught sight of the soldier standing over her; his mace was dyed red with blood. Off to his sides she could see the silhouettes of other Saints, the circle finally closing around her as they were joined by those she’d been fighting In those last moments of lucidity before some unknown shade’s boot collided with her skull, everything clicked into place. And before it gave her more than a few seconds to think about it, her world thankfully, mercifully faded to black.
*****
Jana sputtered to wakefulness, gasping as though to force something from her lungs; droplets of water slid from her sodden form to pool on the floor below.
“Ah, good. You’re awake. That’ll make this much easier.”
A shiver slid through the girl’s frame as she squinted up at the voice, shapes piling together as the darkness brightened and eventually resolved into a pair of Saints, one with a bucket tilted in her general direction. The other man, who must have held some kind of rank over his companion, dismissed the bucket-bearer with a curt gesture, waiting until the soldier had departed before speaking again.
“I am Lieutenant Sykes. Am I to take it that you understand your current situation?”
Jana steeled herself and glanced down, ignoring the chill of her soaked clothes and taking note of both the makeshift sling which held her right arm close to her chest and the wall-bound manacle that encircled her left wrist. Her Blighted skin had been laid bare for all the world to see, a certain satisfaction slipping into the officer’s smile as he caught her staring at the charred and blackened flesh. The amazon took a deep, steadying breath before she finally lifted her gaze to meet the Lieutenant’s.
“Perfectly.”
“Short, sweet, and to the point. I like that. You keep providing answers like that one and you and I won’t have any problems.” Sykes set his hands behind his back and began to pace, forcing Jana’s eyes to wander if she wished to keep him in sight. “Now, I could spend forever easing my foot in the door, but we’re on a bit of a tight schedule right now. So why don’t we just get right to the point?” He paused and shot a glare at her. “Where is the Quisling?”
Though she tried to keep the surprise from her face, Sykes’ smile told her that she wasn’t fooling anyone. Arrogant little pissant. Dammit, what would her sister do in this situation? Lena was the smart one, the one who’d know how to talk her way through this situation so thoroughly that she’d have this lout convinced of the opposite of what he wanted. Jana blinked.
“The Quisling.” She said drily, pausing to give the Lieutenant a look that said more than any words. “You think that I’m working with the dirtiest traitor to ever be born on Paloran soil?”
The man had schooled his expression well, though he was unable to prevent a brief quirk of his eyebrows. “You attacked a contingent of the Saints, Palora’s defenders, on a night when a group of Blighted believed to be associated with the Quisling have been causing trouble.” He turned on his heel and gestured at her left arm. “Need I say any more?”
Silence fell as Jana stared after Sykes’ retreating back, waiting until he was about ready to spin again before she let out a burst of bemused laughter, the sound tapering off into a series of coughs. “Sir, if I may be blunt: I think you’ve got the wrong woman.”
Sykes frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Explain.”
“I don’t remember exactly how I got into that fight, but I do remember spending more than my fair share of time at a tavern before that happened. If I got into a disagreement with some of the guard, then I probably didn’t take it too well and did some things that I’m going to regret when I sober up. In other words, now.”
The man resumed his pacing, though managed to forestall any further displays of emotion, his eyes boring into her at every turn. “So, if I have this straight: you were drinking at the Third Burning, stumbled out at some point, encountered the Saints, this didn’t go well, and then you went on a drunken rampage?”
“That sounds about right to me, sir.” Jana managed an embarrassed smile, unsuccessfully attempting to raise her left arm to scratch at her neck.
“But you’re Blighted.” Sykes said matter-of-factly, idly tapping his fingers against the opposite arm.
“Does it look like I’m some kind of noble to you, Lieutenant? I’m just a farmhand that was grabbing a drink after a long day’s work.”
“Then explain the equipment in the sack you were swinging around. That’s military-grade hardware in there, some of it pretty unconventional.”
“I took on a side-job, okay! It’s not exactly easy to make ends meet when you’re Blighted in Palora, so I agreed to transport that stuff for a few extra coins.” Jana sighed, slumping down to the cold floor below.
Sykes stopped mid-step, chewing on his lower lip as he considered her for a long, silent moment. Finally, the Lieutenant just shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen: You’re going to tell me everything you remember, from the very beginning, including who exactly hired you to smuggle that gear. Then I’ll speak with the guards who encountered you, and if they corroborate what you’ve told me, you’ll get off with a fine for drunkenness.”
The officer began a slow approach, kneeling down before her and staring straight into her eyes. “But if I find out that you’ve been lying to me, you’ll be left to Captain Magro’s mercy. And believe me,” he chuckled softly, “that’s no mercy at all.”
Jana didn’t even need to fake the fear that flickered onto her face, Sykes’ lips turning up into a pleased, yet decidedly cold smile. “Let’s begin then.”
*****
Though the interrogation itself was conducted with the utmost of decorum, Jana couldn’t help but find something subtly unnerving about the treatment she received from Lieutenant Sykes. As though he almost seemed to take pleasure in seeing every fraction of her fear and worry laid bare as she told her story. Truthfully, it reminded her too much of feelings that she’d all too recently felt herself; how unabashedly happy she was when she’d broken that Saint’s ribs, or sent another crashing to the ground. In the moment it had been the purest joy, but now that the afterglow had diffused the thought just made Jana sick.
Once the officer had finally had his fill she was left in silence, her only companion the faint shaft of light that filtered in from the room beyond her cell. Jana shivered, scrabbling away from the sodden spot on the floor and doing her best to wrap her arms around herself. Her clothes had started to dry, but it would be hours before they would become anything close to resembling comfortable. Hours that she probably didn’t have if she wanted to live through the night. If Magro saw her… if he saw her then it was all over. The girl slid her legs toward her chest and took a deep breath, eyeing the chain that bound her Blighted arm. Okay, calm down and think. How am I going to get out of this one?
“The key is always an option, little lamb.”
The scream slipped from Jana’s lips before she could stop it, the amazon’s arms shooting down to the ground in a desperate attempt to push herself away from the voice. Or, what would have been such an attempt had crippling pain not shot up her right limb, paralyzing her body as her eyes frantically searched for the source of the sound. The room was so dark that she almost missed him at first, but the ebon black of the Magister’s robes proved to be distinct even within darkness, to say nothing of the glow provided by the man’s lambent eyes. Those azure orbs seemed to be studying her now, their very edges crinkled slightly with what she thought was amusement.
“I hope that a little time locked up hasn’t drained all of the fire from you. It would make you rather… dull by comparison.”
“Y-you…!” Jana blurted, her face reddening slightly as she worked to regain her composure. “What are you doing here?”
“Offering advice to one of my wayward sheep. I wouldn’t want to be seen as an inattentive shepherd, now would I?” The Magister coughed out a meandering little chuckle, the sound seeming to crawl over her skin and make each and every one of her hairs stand on end. “So, why not just use the key and leave?”
“Oh, you’re right, that would be a wonderful solution - if I actually had the key in hand.” Jana retorted, swallowing another wince as she settled her cast back into position. The Magister remained still, staring straight at - or perhaps through - her, the glimmering discs of his eyes shrinking down to cold little pinpricks.
“Tell me, Miss Bhayan. Did it unnerve you to discover that you enjoy causing pain to others?”
Silence greeted the Magister’s question, Jana’s normally fearsome gaze directed down at the ground as her whole body seemed to visibly deflate. “It did, didn’t it? It’s made you question just what you are, how you could have gone so long without noticing.” The Magister paused, his next words as gentle as a blade placed between one’s shoulders. “Whether or not you truly deserve redemption at all.”
“... What if I don’t?” Her voice was small, for once not the amazon but the young girl whom had realized for the first time that she wasn’t a perfect little angel. That there was a stain on her which might never be washed away; one that she might be forced to bear for the remainder of her life.
“It does the cruelest things to those it taints, you know.” The Magister was suddenly before her, tilting her chin up to meet his deep, ageless eyes. “Takes what you care about most and makes it into something that you can’t even recognize.” Jana quivered, but refused to back down, continuing to stare into his eyes even after his hand had withdrawn back into the folds of his cloak. Though the moment seemed to last forever, it was only seconds later that the Magister had his back turned and began giggling like a madman, shooting a snide glance back in her direction.
“Some would say that you got off lucky. You still feel joy even in the midst of your torture. Most aren’t that fortunate.” One moment he was standing before her, the next his voice filtered into her ears from behind, the sound like the rasping of bone against bone. “Your cousin, for example. She was brilliant once, a figure whose radiance cast everything around her into shadow. Yet now she scrambles around in the fog, her futile attempts to create light only blinding her further.”
The Magister reappeared before the doorway, his cloak swallowing any stray motes of luminescence that sought to make their way into the cell. “She’s strong still, oh so very strong, but she cannot succeed alone. No, if she is to fulfill her purpose, she will need others to create the light that she no longer can herself.” As if in time with his words, the room was illuminated once more, the enigmatic maniac returning to his original position and flashing a toothy smile. “Speaking of purposes, you still possess one you know; even perverted, it’s still yours. As is the decision about whether or not to make use of it.”
He slid a familiar golden pendant out from one of the many pockets within his robes, clicking it open and tittering softly before it vanished back out of sight. “I’m simply suggesting that you consider the possibilities. You could stay shrouded in this darkness forever, or reach up towards the light. That choice is yours, and yours alone. Just as it always has been.”
Before Jana could blink, much less respond, the Magister was simply gone, vanished as though he’d never been at all. It took several minutes for her heartbeat to slow, the sounds of faint chatter emanating from beyond the cell door an indispensable comfort. They were normal. Completely and utterly normal, unlike everything else that she’d been subjected to over the past few hours. Still, the girl gradually relaxed, setting her chin atop her knees and even closing her eyes. Sleep would not take her, though, and Jana’s mind lay awake long after the protests of her body ceased.
*****
Both of the men started when they heard it, each inevitably turning their attention away from the game and towards the cell door. The sound had been faint, just barely within earshot, and yet there was no way that either could deny hearing something. A briefly exchanged glance later the younger of the two groaned and heaved himself out of his seat, lazily approaching the lock-up’s door and peering through the small window that had been set into its frame.
“Looks all clear to-” The young guard’s words were cut short by a sudden clamor; a scrambling and the sound of a chain being pulled taut. The wench’s face was abruptly pressed up against the aperture’s bars, her cheeks flushed with exertion and her eyes frantically darting this way and that like some sort of cornered animal.
“Please, you have to help me. Just… please!” Her voice was rough with thirst and thick with some deeper emotion - worry, or perhaps… fear? The younger man had stumbled back several steps when she’d rushed the door and looked decidedly out of his depth, alternating between glaring at the girl and shooting pleading looks at his partner.
The older serviceman sighed and rose from his own seat, cudgel in hand as he cautiously advanced toward the cell. “Keep calm, Private. This isn’t anything to lose your head over.” His gaze slipped from his subordinate over to the prisoner, the young woman busy casting nervous looks back into the darkness. “And you’ll have to be more specific than that, girlie. Help with what?” As if I haven’t heard this one before.
The girl bit her lower lip, her whole body seeming to shake as she shifted it that much more fully into the doorway. “I-I… there’s something in here with me. I saw it, heard it. You had to t-too, that’s why he walked over here, right?”
The cudgel-wielder barked out a short laugh, rolling his eyes towards his companion and shaking his head. “Did you hear that Private? There’s a monster in there with her and she wants us to let her out so she’ll feel safe. Maybe tuck her in and read her a bedtime story while we’re at it.”
The boy tried to force a smile onto his face, his hesitant laughter joining that of his superior. “Y-yeah, good one Corporal Graham.”
“I’m not kidding, there’s really-” The girl shrieked as the Corporal’s cudgel suddenly smashed into the door, a toothy grin on the soldier’s face as he hefted the weapon back over his shoulder. “Listen, and listen good, girlie. I’m not some young buck who you can win over with a pretty face and the damsel in distress routine. I’ve lived long enough to see too many good men end up on the receiving end of a dagger in the back for believing that malarkey. You’re staying put in that cell until Lieutenant Sykes gives the word otherwise. No buts. Isn’t that right, Private Akro?”
His companion nodded quickly, eyeing the cudgel as he wrung his hands together in front of him. “Yes, sir. On the Lieutenant’s word, not before.”
Graham smirked and leered down at the prisoner, his eyes twinkling all the while. “So, what do you have to say to that, girl?” Even though he’d called her bluff, she only seemed to grow more panicked at his dismissal, a pathetic sounding whimper emerging from her lips as she struggled to steady herself. It was almost a little sad to see her reduced to such a state, quivering uncontrollably and unable to enunciate how she felt. Almost.
The Corporal stifled another laugh, leaning forward to rub it in further… as a claw the color of night thrust through the gaps between the bars, stopping only inches away from his eyes. The fell-looking thing was covered in reptilian scales and tipped with nails that tapered to fine points perfect for the tearing of flesh. As the two soldiers looked on helplessly, the claw settled over the girl’s head and then yanked her backwards, a faint screech and a thump all that remained of her presence.
Silence fell, hard and fast, on the room, two pairs of eyes staring listlessly into the darkness that lay beyond the cell door. Graham felt an involuntary tremor rush through his form, his gaze drawn down to his hands, steady at his sides even in the face of a terror he hadn’t experienced since the end of the Roshon War. Get it together, man! That girl’s going to die if you don’t. His grasp on his cudgel tightened as his free hand took hold of the key at his side, the sound of his voice shattering the pall that had fallen over them both. “Look alive, Private! Arm yourself and get behind me. I’ll distract whatever that thing is, you circle around and nail it right in the back of the head. Understood?”
The boy blinked and then lurched into action, his eyes wide as he took his own cudgel in hand and then huddled up behind his superior, nervous but as battle ready as he was going to get. The key slid smoothly into the lock, as it had earlier in the evening, a single breath the only warning Graham gave before he tore open the door and rushed forward. Right into something solid, his body sprawling forward as he landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked clean out of him.
Face down on the floor, the old corporal could do nothing but listen to the sounds of the struggle raging behind him. Shifting feet, skin sliding against skin, and the wheezing whine of a constricted airpipe, all of which culminated in a thud as one of the combatants collapsed to the floor. The soldier sucked air into his lungs and rolled himself onto his back, staring up into the waiting eyes of the prisoner - the very girl he’d rushed in to save. She had the Private’s cudgel raised over her head, held in a hand that was the same color as the claw. Her gaze was steady as her eyes met his. The look seemed almost apologetic for what she was about to do, but as the club rushed down to meet his head, Graham fancied that he heard a few whispered words.
“Shouldn’t have believed that malarkey.”
*
Jana stared down at her handiwork with a grim satisfaction, swallowing the revulsion that had accompanied the whole affair and dropping to her knees. Luckily for her, the Corporal seemed to have a similar enough build that she might be able to make this work. Maybe. She carefully unlaced his equipment and stripped him of all but his undergarments, slipping her hand around his neck and then beginning to carefully apply pressure to his- Jana blinked, hastily releasing her grip and jerking her hand away. The girl eyed the offending fingers, but ultimately set them back to work, hastily divesting herself of her own clothing.
It was something of a process to dress herself with a broken arm, but by the time Jana was done she thought she looked something close to the part. She’d been a corporal once after all. The old man’s helmet was a lost cause though; she’d put a pretty good dent in the thing when she’d knocked him out. So, it was with great relief that she saw the Private’s helmet remained perfectly intact where he’d left it - on the arm of his chair. The amazon snorted to herself as she deposited the boy’s cudgel on his seat, taking a quick peek at their abandoned card game as she stuffed her hair beneath the headgear. The thing was tight, but it would have to do.
She belted the Corporal’s cudgel to her hip as she strode back to cell door, pulling the portal closed and locking it tight. The key she left on the table, a courtesy for causing all of this trouble in the first place. Jana then gave herself a thorough once over, unable to prevent herself from repeatedly fidgeting with the glove that now covered her Blighted arm. Soon she could put it off no longer though, inhaling sharply as she straightened up and left the little chamber behind.
If things were the same as when she’d last been in these barracks, then the evidence room was two floors above her current location - and one below ground level. She would need to pass by it anyway, so there was no reason not to grab a couple of her things before she flew the coop. All she needed to do was make it there. Just walk through a few hallways and go up a couple flights of stairs. Easy.
It took a couple of turns before she ran into her first Saint, a bespectacled young man with a ream of papers in hand. Jana felt her arm start to tremble, but steadied it with a thought, plastering a casual smile on her face as she flashed him the Saint’s salute. He returned the gesture, seeming to eye her arm for a moment, but said nothing as he passed. As did the next. And the one after that. Yet with each encounter, Jana felt a part of herself wither away that much further, her smile growing dimmer and dimmer as the ordeal drew on. This feeling… this familiarity, the way that each and every person that she met treated her with respect and dignity. How they saw her as a person rather than a problem. Treating her like something that she wasn’t. It hurt.
The routine had become so automatic that she didn’t even realize she’d arrived at her destination, coming to her senses in front of the door to the evidence locker, her hand extended to take hold of the handle. Jana sighed, pushing the thoughts of what could have been far, far away and entering the room, careful to close the door behind her. Fortunately, the locker was empty, her bundle stashed neatly in the leftmost corner of the densely packed space.
Much as she might have liked to, it wouldn’t be practical to take the whole thing with her, so she would have to pick and choose what would be the most useful. In the end, she settled on her helmet, replacing the Private’s head-clamp, her lucerne, and her rondel dagger. The hammer she just couldn’t bear to leave, even if it would prove difficult to wield without a second arm.
Just before she moved to depart, something caught the girl’s eye; on a nearby table lay a series of maps, the phrase “Great Desolation” featured prominently over the relief. Casting a quick glance at the door, Jana hastily jammed the papers into a tube, favoring expedience over caution so that she could take her leave sooner rather than later. Time was of the essence, of course.
Fortunately, the remainder of her escape went off without a hitch, which is to say that no one stopped a corporal from walking out the front door of the barracks. Especially a corporal with a rather large polearm strapped to their back. The Western Quarter was familiar to Jana, as it was to most Saints. Even though the grounds were crawling with guardsmen, she was able to make her way north to the Trade District without too much trouble. It was here, hidden in an offshoot off of the main thoroughfare, that the girl called out into the shadows, all traces of doubt gone from her voice.
“Magister. Show yourself.”
The night grew perfectly still, nothing daring to break the silence that had fallen around her, as though nature itself sought to draw attention to the taboo she had just breached. Jana felt a presence settle around her, invisible yet there in every sense that mattered. It stood waiting, watching her in the same manner that a hawk would a hare in the moments before it struck. Parlor tricks. “Magister,” she called again, “I require your assistance. Come forth and treat with me.”
For a moment, all remained as it was, but then the air was split by a deep, rolling chuckle, the sound drawing reality back into the alley. A faint breeze tickled Jana’s nose and the Magister stood before her, less than an arm’s length away. His eyes gleamed, the orbs the same deep, endless blue as the sky.
“You know,” he drawled, “it’s rather rude to call for someone as though they’re your servant, is it not?”
Jana felt all of her breath rush out of her, but managed to hold the man’s gaze, inscrutable though it was. “Y-you said…” she began, pausing briefly to inhale. “You said that the seats at the inn were for masters. I call myself master - master of my own destiny - and so I call you.”
The Magister regarded her in silence, the very air seeming to hold its breath as he turned over what she’d said, before he finally smiled. The gesture was all shark’s teeth, a predator’s smile, but a smile nonetheless. One that she returned. “What is it that you want of me, Miss Keller?”
“My cousin. You said that she’d need help if she was to take down the wyrm. I want you to send me to wherever she is right now.”
He seemed to smirk with his eyes, folding his hands before him. “It is within my power to do so, though as with all services, it would come with a price.”
Jana frowned a fraction, crossing her free arm over its bound twin. “Name it.”
“When you come upon Vermonox - upon his lair, there you will find a hoard. Amongst his many riches lies a shepherd’s staff carved from the finest wood, a sizable oval of jade set into its crook.” The man’s smile grew wider. “I want you to bring it to me.”
She stared back at him, as though searching for some hint of treachery. Slowly, carefully, Jana slid her left hand down to take hold of her cudgel, drawing the weapon and moving forward until she was looking directly down into his eyes. “Done.”
The Magister said nothing, returning her gaze with a steady calm that seemed to belie the excitement she could feel emanating from him. She’d stared for so long that she was starting to lose herself in those blue orbs, as though they truly were skies and she had fallen into them. Then all of a sudden they were gone, and when Jana looked up she realized that she was elsewhere.
The first thing she noticed about her new location was the smell, the stink of death and decay a particularly foul odor, even centuries removed. Second she saw the bones and the larger bodies they belonged to, no doubt the source of the stench that seemed to pervade the chamber. Third… she saw the thing that was bearing down on her cousin. It was some kind of horror birthed from a children’s storybook, a bird’s head set atop a feline’s body and given all of the ferocity of both species combined. And it had Strasna cornered. No. The creature roared, a horrible, ululating noise that cut straight to her core, and Jana rushed forward. Her cudgel whipped across with all her might, arcing towards the back of the beast’s head as she let out a scream.
“Get away from her!”
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