A Reunion Amidst the Mire (closed to Karuka)

[Storm Veritas]

The confidence of the child was quite amusing, but he’d humor her regardless. She was sweet, kind, and had that same natural caring instinct that he saw in her mother. Taische was bold, “commanding” to get Storm to ease off the scotch as a medicine rather than a healing component. Instinctively he glared at the adorable girl, but knew there would be no conflict here. She meant well enough.

“This is medicinal, don’t worry sweetheart…” he smiled and let the scotch slide down smoothly. By his third drink it was wonderful stuff, and allowed him to smoothly enjoy a very mild buzz for the first time in as long as he could remember.

Taische continued to mix about the food, cooking the little bundles delivered from the beautiful fire bird. She then asked him quite the question.

“Magic isn’t good or bad, honey. Magic is simply magic; it’s the user that makes it work for good or not. As for what flavor of bad I am…”

Shit, sweetie, that’s deeper than you think. Just because you barbeque a good field mouse doesn’t make you my head doctor. Damn…

“There are a few things that get people known as ‘bad’. Sometimes it’s disagreeing with what most folks think. Other times its just wanting more for yourself. Then there are the people with wires crossed. People that just want to see bad things happen.”

Her eyes grew a bit wider, inquisitive and a little nervous at the implications of that third variety of evil. He had met plenty that lusted for blood, and did more than lightly cross the line into areas where good people dare not venture. The fire’s light kissed his face red, and he wondered how monstrous he must look. A grin would break the tension.

“As for me, sugar… well I guess I’m a little of the first two sorts of bad. I don’t always follow every rule too closely…” …a preposterous understatement, he considered.

“…And I do what I have to do to survive and live well, and take care of the people important to me.”

It wasn’t technically false, he rationalized. Storm wasn’t a pure source of evil, although there were plenty of widows and broken families that may disagree. Still, a bit of navel gazing was something he avoided like the plague; introspection opened questions which he wasn’t very comfortable answering.

What type of man would he have been, had he been accountable to others? If there was a little one that relied on him? If there was a single woman like Karuka, one worthy of his time, might he have become a better man?

…and if the queen had balls, she’d be king.

He thought plenty but said little. They didn’t have enough scotch for a conversation, and the aged wizard knew he’d get (unfairly) annoyed by the perspective of a child.

Storm’s eyes gazed off into the mire, hoping for Karuka’s shapely silhouette to reappear. He had traveled long today, and was feeling much better. If he could rest, he’d be on top of his game with the rising sun.

“Where’s your ma, kiddo? I want to crash here but owe it to her to stay up. She’s strong now, but there’s nothing pleasant out there at this hour. With a good night’s sleep I’ll be strong again. I need to hit Talmaidh, and hope we can get there within a few days.”

We.

Oh shut the f*ck up.

[Karuka]

Taische squared her shoulders, drawing her body up proudly. “She doesn’t need you to stay up for her safety. She’s the strongest in the world. Whatever dangerous things walk the night are scared of her, not the other way around.”

“But y’ll sleep better if y’ have somethin’ real t’ eat, instead of a few mouthfuls of frog an’ fish.” Rather than coming from the edge of camp, Karuka’s voice came from above, where she perched on a thick branch about twenty feet up. A decently sized package wrapped in leaves and a variety of fruits filled her arms. “An’ there’s more than plenty t’ see us through t’morrow.”

She dropped lightly, landing in the center of their little makeshift camp and handing off some of her things to Taische. “Was he too much trouble?”

The child thought about it. “More than Tenoch, but not as much as Yaotl,” she reported, listing off two of her Karuka’s former soldiers. She tugged on her mother’s sleeve, drawing her down. “I think he thinks he’s scary,” she whispered.

Karuka laughed, ruffling her daughter’s thick hair. “He’ll find yer my daughter soon enough. We don’t scare even when we prob’ly should. How’s dinner comin’ on?”

“It’s almost ready. A few more minutes.”

“Right. Put this under th’ coals so it’ll cook an’ stay good fer t’morrow.” The child hurried to tuck the bundle beneath the flames and get the roots out to cool.

Child occupied, Karuka went back to Storm so she could finish putting away everything she’d pulled out to patch him up. “Feelin’ any better, there?”

[Storm Veritas]

Although she looked nearly identical to her previous self (as he felt he’d aged twenty years in just over five), it was clear Karuka had really grown. It was one thing for the little cherub to think her mom was the walking Creator; but the way she moved was something altogether different. While she was always elegant and lithe, there was a power beneath her grace that simply wasn’t there before. Storm bit his tongue, not wanting to fan the flames of what was likely a pretty healthy ego.

“Much, better, thanks. First aid’s never been a strength of mine, as I’m sure you’ll remember. You know by now that most of us old pricks can dish it out, but not take it so well…”

His teasing smile was stifled as he realized he had sworn in front of the kid. His eyes widened in a knowing apology; he hoped Taische hadn’t heard it but knew children that age never missed a beat. Karuka’s stern eyes softened as well, as she remembered the savage her wounded friend had once been. He was trying, at least.

He could stand, if at first a bit slowly, being gentle with his tender stomach. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel tautness at the seam of his wound, nor was there heat flowing from his abdomen.

Bless this beautiful broad, I just hope she doesn’t realize how gifted she really is.

They sat around the coals and spread their food; for a campsite dinner it was a cornucopia. The fruits were absurdly good; sweet and juicy with a refreshing tart aftertaste. The condensed water was a bit scarce, but clean and pure. The meats, a series of small bites proffered by big bird, were lean, flavorful, and tender. Even the roots, which Veritas would have normally considered only as something to tie together leaf-hammocks, added a rich, healthy taste that would cleanse the palate between bites.

The three ate as they spoke, a chance encounter not squandered. The simplicity of the conversation was easy and smooth; Storm caught Karuka up upon his travels, and lent more detail to his recent run-in at the pyramid with the massive rock monster “Moxie”. Karuka shared a bit of the femme-fatales’ collective journey. There was no more depth, no stress, and no concept of time.

With a full belly, a light buzz, and a happy smile, it was very late before Storm allowed himself to drift to sleep. He was still a bit too tender to try anything forward with Karuka (who, at the flip of a coin, may embrace him or strangle him for such thoughts), but felt strangely happy with a rare, innocent encounter.

And tomorrow, you wake and go in the other direction. To Talmaidh, away from whatever godforsaken Castle they are talking about. No more friends, just a trip to pay off a death-debt to the man that sent you down to that tomb. Shit.

The trouble with a good thing is that once we are aware we are experiencing it, we spend our time dreading the end of it. As his eyelids slid together, his teeth clenched at the departing pleasantries. The next day could never match the present one.

[Karuka]

Taische had crashed shortly after eating, curled up against a tree root, arms around her soft doll and little body covered by a gentle wing. It let the adults talk a little more freely. Karuka had assured Storm that there was really nothing he could say that would phase Taische. For most of her daughter's life, Karuka had been in command of an entire castle full of guards in times of peace, or a few contingents in times of war. She'd grown up around soldiers; she'd heard it all. She also shared the reason they were going to the castle: her daughter's manifestation of clairvoyance was different than her own, and there might be some long forgotten teachings at the old castle that could help. She also vaguely mentioned that there might be treasure, if plunderers hadn't found it all over the centuries.

Eventually Storm drifted off as well, exhausted from his long walk and battle with his injury. The redhead was surprised he'd lasted as long as he had, really. But it had been a very long time, and the more sleep they got, the less of this brief moment would be granted them to spend together. Long ago, they'd gone their separate ways; the path he'd needed to walk was far different from hers. But that hadn't diminished any affection between them.

The last up, as usual, she cleaned up camp a bit, getting ready for the morning's departure and throwing a little more wood on the smoky fire. And the morning... well. He had his path to walk. And she had hers. That slightly bitter truth in mind, she let herself get to sleep as well.

~*~*~

Dawn saw the child up, and while she let the adults sleep for a few more minutes while she grilled some of the fruits left over from the night before, that didn't last long. Of course it couldn't.

While they were eating, Taische tapped the man on the arm. "Hey Uncle Storm, can I see your lightning?"

Storm looked at Karuka, who shrugged as if to say 'what harm could it do?' As if she didn't remember. Even so, the mage obliged, holding out a crackling ball of electrical energy. Mindful of what, exactly, he was dealing with (specifically, Karuka's child), he made sure to keep the charge low. Sure enough, two seconds of extremely focused stare, then...

"B'ooof! Oooh." Taische slid back, hair standing nearly on end. The taste of copper covered her tongue, and she rubbed her mouth, trying to clear it. "Bleh."

Less than merciful, her mother erupted into giggles. "Ar ndóigh, y'd stick yer hand in it. My daughter t' th' end of y'." She laughed more at the glare her daughter gave her, opening her arms to embrace her child. "Yer all right. She'll be tryin' t' figure that out now," she explained to Storm. "Maybe she'll even get it." Family legend did say there was thunder in their blood.

Breakfast finished all too soon, and Karuka looked up at her old friend. "On yer way t' Talmhaidh, then?"

He nodded, mouth twisting grimly. "Unfortunately."

She looked at the dying embers a little sadly, then handed him some food. "Y' have long legs an' no child with y', so I don't think it'll take y' two days. There're roots ev'rywhere in th' swamp, jus' look fer th' tall shoots. This'll keep y' that long." She leaned up a little, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. "Safe travels, till next we meet."

Taische, hair flattened down by some vigorous finger-brushing, hugged around his waist. "Bye, Uncle Storm." With that, she took her mother's hand and they headed off, phoenix flying above them.

[Storm Veritas]

As they split paths, Storm kept his composure, trying to be thankful for the moment and not selfishly miss the two ladies that marched south towards the castle. He was comfortable knowing Karuka had moved on and become a fierce warrior. The little one was crafty enough to survive, which brought a smile to his face.

Move on. It was lucky, and great, but you still have a goal.

In truth, his stomach felt perfectly fine after treatment from the two skilled healers. He still couldn’t forget that he was sent to the pyramid under false pretenses in the first place. That fat bastard port-trader certainly sent him off as fodder; who had conscripted his services was the more important answer he sought.

Storm walked well, light on his feet, snacking occasionally on some of the plum-sized oranges that beautiful little girl had warmed. He moved smoothly, skipping from patch to patch. The swamp land had enough trails to afford him dry traffic north of his feet. It was almost too easy.

The sun was just about overhead when a soft, distant sploshing sound hummed from behind him.

”Fiff-tih-fiff!!! Fiff-tih-fiff!!! Fiff-tih-fiff!!! Fiff-tih-fiff!!!”

The hell!?

A blue-flagbearer rode in his direction from the south, charging ahead on his mount. The “horse”, for lack of a better term, was some sort of large insect thing, but appeared disciplined as it strode on large feet across the watery surface. The flagbearer wore light iron armor which was matted with mud; his face flushed with red. He trumpeted weakly with lungs that could barely blow. He had been riding hard.

“Hail, traveler! Halt in the King’s name!” The bugrider was awfully formal, given the circumstances.

“Where’s the fire?! Lord, you’re in a hell of a hurry. Relax; I don’t think your boss is looking anymore.”

“Water…” the soldier begged, looking at Storm with eyes that sang of genuine fear. He had a look of death in yellow-filled eyes.

There it is. I wonder if this sorry shit thinks he’s going to TAKE my water!?

“Look down, jackass…” Storm began snidely, motioning to the swampland beneath their feet. “Now try again. Where’s the fire?” In spite of himself, Storm produced a small flask of water, which the bugrider plowed through.

“The castle… it’s under attack. It will fall today. I need to reach Talmaidh, to plead for reinforcements. Thank you, traveler; for your troubles…”

The bugrider swallowed hard and flipped a small satchel of coins to Storm. It was a bundle of between five and ten coins, and caught him by surprise. To see the flagbear charge forward with such fervor was disheartening; it was very clear that his desperation was authentic.

I suppose the port man can wait. How far did Karuka say she was from that castle?

Storm Veritas was a very fast man at full bore, but he had too far to cover at top speed. Turning his attention south, he began with a steady jog, which he felt he could keep up for a few hours, given his amount of water and fruit.

Karuka… Taische… walking into the crossfire… and you’re jogging?!

F*ck it.

His jog graduated to a hard run, and his feet pulled him hard through the marsh. He skipped quickly across the water; striding in spots through deep mud. His lungs burned, the humidity filled them with no relief. His heart beat hard as though his chest would burst. His feet and legs screamed back at each root and pit that he caught off square.

He would accept these petty injuries. He had seen war before, and knew better than to hope for a small girl to stay out of trouble.

[Karuka]

Karuka's morning started off quietly. Taodoine always needed some sun before he was fully awake, so he weaved in and out of the canopy. Taische spent most of her time staring at her fingers, willing them to spark. She thought she'd felt how her uncle had done it, but the first hour brought no progress.

"Were you and Uncle Storm lovers when you were young?" Karuka had had three lovers over the course of Taische's life, only two of whom the little girl could remember. Her mother had always been honest about who the men were and why they were over, because she didn't see the point in hiding the world from a child who lived in it.

"Aye, we were, when I was younger. See in fifteen years if thirty is old."

"Why didn't he come with us?" A spark, static and gone. The child's face brightened in elation, fell in disappointment, then set in determination. She was on the right track!

"Wee bit, there's a thing my father called 'dharma' an' my mother called 'wyrd.' It means that ev'ryone has a path in life t' walk. Sometimes two people's paths join. I've never seen it, but sometimes they intertwine ferever. Mos' often though, they're only t'gether a short while. Then they split. That's what happened with me an' Storm. It's what happened with me an' yer father. It'll prob'ly happen with you an' whatever lovers y' eventually choose t' take. It's not bad, it just is. An' then y' can be glad t' see 'em when yer paths cross again an' sad t' see 'em go."

"Would you be happy to see my father again?"

Karuka's mouth set. "If he were still th' man I knew an' loved. But time... time changes people, Taische. Sometimes they choose t' become better people. Sometimes they choose t' become worse."

The child mulled that over in her mind for a little bit. "Dharma needs to make up its mind." Questions answered, she went back to working on her static.

~*~*~

She was getting it too, as the morning wore into afternoon. "Don't shock yer mother" and "don't shock Taodoine" each left Karuka's lips more than once. Then, jealous that his playmate wasn't paying any attention to him, the phoenix poked his head into the little girl's satchel and stole her doll, fluttering and hopping around just out of reach.

"Ta! Give her baaaaaaack!"

Karuka didn't pay much mind to the game between her daughter and her pet, even if Taische was an unwilling participant. Something was nagging at her; the scar that bound her to Fiorair itched fiercely, and the future tingled at the edge of her perception. When she reached to look at it, it vanished like fog in her grasp. Someone was spending a lot of energy ahead to keep prying eyes away, and she couldn't concentrate over:

"Taodoine! Bring her down! She'll get stung!" The shrill, hysterical whine could drive anyone mad. Equally infuriating was the phoenix, who was perched ten feet up and gloating over his prize. He seemed oblivious to the buzzing nest full of Taische's newest phobia: wasps.

"Taodoine." Both bird and child snapped their attention to the redhead. That was The Voice. "Thabhairt. Anois."

He meekly flapped down, offering the doll to Taische, who snatched it. "He-!"

"Hush! Th' both of y'! Anáil na beatha, five minutes' peace!"

"Bu-!" an icy glare killed the words in Taische's throat, and she held the doll close. She looked down at Taodoine, who had landed on the ground beside her. "You got us in trouble!" she whispered. He cheebled disagreeably in response.

Karuka stood for a minute, rubbing the bridge of her nose and trying to regain her patience. What was trying to hide from her? Time was not going to give her a good minute to look, however, as something came crashing toward them through the dense brush.

[Storm Veritas]

Running is a strange occurrence for those that don’t do it with regularity. There is a scare that your lungs and heart will simply burst within the first three minutes, a brutal adjustment for even the most finely tuned athlete. Fortunately, for the fit it gets better. When the lungs adjust to a new breathing schedule, and the heartbeat regulates to feed the muscles with sufficient blood, one feels a sense of invincibility.

Such was the feeling for Storm, bursting through the thick slop like he was born for it. His enjoyment was eliminated as he scoured for some sign of his distressed companions, keeping his ears tuned in for a call, a shriek, a cry. He zipped through completely ignoring the pain in his stomach, which had abated but was most certainly not absent. The swamp yielded to forest, putting him well south of where they had parted ways within an hour of his dash.

C’mon, Karu… Where the f*ck are you!? You’re at the castle already… I’m too late…

Dark thoughts. He continued forward, but it wasn’t more than a few minutes before the first monstrous caw.

“CrrrrraaaAWWWWW!!!!!!!!!”

He didn’t know what the sound was, and certainly wasn’t looking forward to finding out. His blades found their way into his palms as the thin chorus of clanging swords drew him closer to what must be the action. They were distant, but unmistakable, mixed with the braying of animals and gurgled calls of local warriors fighting and dying.

Looks like we found the party… Where the hell are you ladies!?

The dismal imaginations didn’t escape him as he closed in towards the castle. Storm had never been, but the place was easy to find. The smoke covered the forest floor in increasingly thick blanket, at first rising in a fine mist and later creating a true fog. More obvious, perhaps, was the birth of sound, stemming from thin pings and dull groans into crashes, wails and destruction. The smell of fire lingered in the air, with trees soon yielding to a thick, stone wall which was under 100 feet from him before he saw it.

Instinctively, he stayed behind the tree line, coming to a halt as he heard his breath and heart rate thumping and huffing in spite of him. He’d like to be silent, but total silence was betrayed by his fatigue. He was still keen, smooth, and stealthy, darting from tree to tree as he moved about the perimeter of the large stone wall. At some point, there would be a gate, or a hole.

…and inside, a woman and her daughter, who walked themselves into a war. Am I too late already?

The clang and clamor of battle raging inside, of mighty beasts and men screaming, celebrating, and dying alike would hide his noise. He would be undetected, he presumed. Unfortunately, the heavy smoke and chorus of warsong also hid the battle that had spilled out beyond the castle gates.

By the time he located the battle, it was clear that he had wandered into the thick of it. He began to move forward through the crowds, steering as clear from combat as he could to avoid declaring an allegiance that would identify him as an enemy.

Naturally, such a strategy was doomed to fail.

[Karuka]

A dire boar crashed through the thick brush, snorting out breath that reeked of rotting corpses. It was made of bristles, covered in iron, and bore on its back an athletic, bald human whose face was covered by a large black dragon claw tattoo. He leered at the woman and girl, yellowed eyes and yellow teeth flashing malevolently. He leveled a huge crossbow at the redhead, ignoring the growl of her pet bird.

"Karuka ar Faylinn. Your presence is requested by Warlord Banagher dar Gavan. He's most displeased that you're late."

Karuka's hand clenched on her spear, but the man waved his weapon, warning her against it. Rustles from the brush surrounding the women threatened ominously, sending Taische scurrying to her mom's side.

"Wouldn't do that, m'lady. See, Warlord Banagher said we was to bring you in alive. However... he didn't say any such thing about the girl."

Red lips pulled back from white teeth. "Th' first one of y' t' touch th' child dies in agony."

"But can you kill all of us before she dies? Or would you rather come along peaceable, and both of you be honored guests at Castle Murchadha?"

Humidity dripped from slick leaves. Insects hummed and buzzed oppressively. The swine glared with beady eyes, and the pig he rode snored in and snorted out labored breaths. Karuka looked around, considering her options. Yes, on her own, a dozen trained soldiers and a dire boar would be an inconvenience. With no way to get her daughter safely out of the line of fire, though...

Well done, dar Gavan, convincin' my bog t' hide from me yer presence, yer army, an' th' welcoming envoy y' sent. Are y' playin' th' same game as yer father, or d'y' just want vengeance fer his death?

"Very well. We'll go t' speak wi' yer master. Any who touches th' girl gets a knife t' th' throat."

A grimy arm motioned magnanimously to the back of the boar, and Karuka helped Taische up before mounting. Consequence hummed in her hand, eager for blood, but now was not the time. Taodoine, rather than ride on his master's shoulder, exploded into the air, out of reach of the soldiers.

"If that thing's signalling someone, he's only leading them to death," came a stern warning.

"I've faced many who have thought they were sure death. D' y' see any of them?"

~*~*~

Deep into the afternoon, the boar trotted out of the forest and into a war zone. The air choked with smoke, swords and shields clanged in the fever and pitch, and the screams of injured and dying men cut through the haze. The scents of soot and sulphur competed with the clog of blood and bile. These were scenes familiar to Karuka; war had long been a fact of life on the island nation of Jalaan. They were not familiar to Taische, whose little hands and face pressed so hard into her mother's back that they threatened to burrow in.

Ice blue trickled into Karuka's irises, granting her a vision of the souls on the field, instead of all the smoke. Some laid on the ground, dim and darkening. Some raged in combat. Far away, one seemed to crackle, but surely that was impossible.

Storm has t' be halfway t' Talmhaidh by now.

Finally, something big lurked in the middle of the ruined keep. If nothing else made Karuka nervous, that did.

As they cleared the walls, Karu nudged Taische, pointing with her eyes to a small water intake tunnel. The grate was broken, so it offered a way for the small child to get in and out, but protection from the larger combattants. If only she could get there when given an opportunity.

In the middle of the courtyard, a large Drakari male stood, waiting. Combat gave him a wide berth, and his armor gleamed in the oppressive Dheath sun. The boar rider bowed to him deferentially. "We brought them, Warlord."

Karuka dropped from the back of the great pig and pulled her daughter off behind her. Her face set hard as she stared down the son of an old enemy. "Banagher dar Gavan dar Eamon."

"Karuka ar Faylinn ar Brigid. I have long awaited the day you answer for what you did to my father and sister. Where's your pet ghoul?"

"I put him in th' ground where he b'longed. An' I've never killed a man what wasn't tryin' t' kill me. If y'd asked th' swamp, it would've told y' why it wanted him dead."

"LIAR!" The Drakari stomped forward. "You stopped him on his quest to rid our lands of these human interlopers! Those who take, burn, destroy, and leave a land empty and barren!"

Ah. I've been gone too long. That's how he convinced th' swamp.

"Who's doin' that t'day, Banagher? Who's r'sponsible fer th' massive waste of life?"

"Ultimately, Tenalach? You." He drew a pair of huge swords, challenging Karuka to combat.

"Taische. Now. TAO!"

A fireball came screaming out of the sky, hovering over the child who broke from her mother's side. Taische bolted for the water pipe as quickly as she could, bare feet slapping hot cobblestone and splashing in sticky liquid that she could only pray wasn't blood. The first man who tried to cross the girl's path went down beneath the raptor's flaming talons. The second, who intercepted them just a few feet from the wall, grabbed the phoenix and brutally snapped its neck.

Taische shrieked, horrified at the pile of ash that had been her pet, and reflexively shoved a fire blast into the man's face, blinding and burning him long enough that she could squeeze into the pipe. Her assailant's agonized, enraged scream reached its peak and stopped, silenced by a steel knife that blossomed from his throat.

Banagher looked impassively at the redhead as she straightened from her throw. "Just as messy as your pet."

"He taught me. With that out of th' way... I accept yer challenge." Consequence twirled in Karuka's hands, its prevalida tip sparking in anticipation. Battle was joined.

[Storm Veritas]

Moving quickly in a low crouch, Storm could feel the muscles in his long, bulging quadriceps scream at him. From a sprint and pushing through the marsh, to hopping felled trees and charging ahead, he could feel his body worn and weary. His shirt clung tight to his chest as his body was slicked with a sheer layer of sweat, and his hair matted close against his head in thick sprays. He was tired, but wildly alive with excitement in the moment.

As he continued to scramble around the perimeter for the gate, he was surprised at how easy he was able to move. Warriors of all sorts were confused by him, but seemed to preoccupied to engage. He looked like neither friend nor foe, and by refusing to make strides directly at any singular group, he didn’t present a threat. His eyes scanned the battlefield for errant arrows first, staying well clear of engaged soldiers or mounts. He scoured for Karuka, Taische, or the gate. Despite a failure in finding his recent traveling companions, it was only a few minutes before he came upon the large, arched structure which opened and spilled into the courtyard behind the walls.

Finally. Now where the hell are you, ladies?!

Unfortunately, this opportunity also forced him to commit to moving forward, marching on the gate and appearing the role of assailant. Three large soldiers happened to be moving out through the gate, some thirty feet from the orifice when they set eyed on the thin, lone mage.

Shit. Gonna have to get my hands dirty.

There were no words; the group of three raced towards Storm in unison as he was the next logical target. Militia, they wore heavy leathers about their bodies and each swung a single longsword opposed a standard buckler. Unfortunately, they also donned a triumvirate of heavy, iron helmets.

Sorry boys. At least it will be quick.

He raised his hands, pointing daggers towards them as they charged. The leftmost and center soldier were his focus. The men were sprinting with fire in their eyes, an unbridled confidence which underscored their failure to understand the situation. He inhaled deeply, soaking in one full, wet breath of the smoky air before all hell broke loose.

“Ssssaaaaaaaa!!!!!”

He leapt, firing massive arcs of blue-white energy from the tips of his daggers forward. A tiny thunderclap smashed through the air as he ushered in the furious assault. Each beam fired with brilliant, horrible precision, striking the two respective skullcaps with a sizzle-snap. The bodies immediately went limp, but the momentum carried the completely unresponsive carcasses hurtling forward some six or eight feet. The mighty Veritas landed slightly behind the bodies, viewing as the burning hair and fast-blackening flesh became a crumbled black tar-ash within their tiny metal tombs.

Turning his attention to the third defender of the realm, Storm peered his now white-hot eyes directly at the back of a terrified boy-soldier, who decided not to wait around to check on his nearly headless brothers-at-arms. He glowered; the wild wizard had no sympathy for total cowardice.

Let it go; you KNOW she has to be inside. She –has- to be.

Action around him had screeched to a halt; Storm had made quite a scene. Fortunately, it appeared he had interrupted a lopsided duel; from 50 yards away he could see her unmistakable crimson hair, and that she was lined up against someone enormous and angry looking. They both had turned their heads quickly to the sound of the thunder, but it was a half dozen or so confused soldiers that looked to their general.

“Go!” the massive general snarled, disgusted by their collective cowardice. “Lose the helmets, and take him out!”

It was incredible. He had found her, hopefully found them, After everything that the group had been through, they were reunited at the core of this seemingly senseless battle. However they had been roped in, he would get them out.

And with that, the terrified young fighters began to drop their helmets as the exhausted Storm Veritas charged forward once more.

[Karuka]

What in Great Hel’s name is he doin’ here?!

Either Storm had gotten severely lost on the way to Talmhaidh, or he’d somehow received word of the violence unfolding at the castle and decided that they needed protection. It was actually a little sweet; men like Storm charged into danger for so very few. But he was already exhausted and facing fresh troops; Karuka wasn’t sure he’d be able to fight for very long.

He’s ay gonna need some help.

No sooner had Banagher ordered his troops forward than he lunged for his nemesis, forcing her back with his superior bulk. His two gigantic falchions ripped gouges into the stone where Karuka had just stood. Chips flew, grazing his blackish green scales and bouncing off Karuka’s vlince shirt. He growled, pulling himself up, but that gave his foe time to make a gesture. A wave of water rushed through the air, crashing into some of his forces and leaving them sopping. But they kept forward at their Warlord’s command, splashing through the puddles toward the lightning mage.

Karuka darted away from a second attack, now forced to give full attention to the seven foot mass of muscle that wanted her dead. She’d done all she could for Storm.

“Stop running, weasel.”

“Keep up, turtle.” Dar Gavan attacked again, sending a powerful pair of eviscerating swipes at Karuka’s midsection. Instead of dodging, the redhead stepped forward, sliding neatly under the huge swords to deliver a shocking stab to a well-armored shoulder. The hulking Drakari stumbled back, fangs bared in fury.

“Don’t think, girl, that your twig will bring me down.”

“Gavan dar Eamon, your father, named this spear on th' day he died. He called it ‘a weapon of great consequence.’” Smooth red wood spun like a leaf in calloused hands, dirty feet slid over cracked cobblestones, sharp eyes watched for an opening or an attack. “B’tween yer uncle’s an’ yer father’s actions, yer family lost a lot of honor. But nothin’ y’ do here t’day will help restore that. Killin’ me changes nothin’. If y’ call a stop now, no one else has t’ die.”

Banagher growled deep in his throat, hocking a noxious ball of slime at Karuka’s feet. His falchions gleamed murder. “Foolish, weak human. There will be no surrender, no parlay, no peace! Your bloodline will pay for its crimes against mine. I will tear you open and devour your beating heart! Then I will hunt down your spawn, rip open her tender fl-”

A feral roar ripped from Karuka’s throat. In less than the blink of an eye, she was on him, unleashing a blistering barrage of brutal blows on the Warlord’s hands, feet, and forearms. She seemed to move at the speed of thought; wherever he swiped or stabbed, he was meeting empty air or an expert block.

Meanwhile, the number of blows she was landing were adding up. His limbs burned like they’d been stung by a thousand hornets. Occasionally a strike from the lightning-forged tip exploded an injury into agony. Banagher howled in fury, slashing harder and faster at the crimson blur that was on him. If he could land even one blow, the fight would be over. No frail human frame could survive his raw power. But not only was the little mammal quick, she seemed to anticipate his every move. Even before he’d fully committed to one swing, she was out of range of the next, hailing down blows wherever she could reach.

As his strength flagged, his guard faltered. Rapid blue blows flew at dar Gavan’s face and core, each touch of the crackling prevalida point sent electric stings skittering over his scales. When he managed to block the frontal attacks, she whipped the spear around and turned them into hard hits on his legs or flank.

Shame and rage roiled in the Warlord’s gut. He’d been driven to the defensive by a creature whose teeth and claws barely functioned. Had his father and sister felt the same? He drove her back with a brutal dual slash, trying to force enough space to go back on the offensive. He opened his mouth to roar a challenge to her, only to find himself flying backward, feeling like his skull had exploded. His eyes met the sky, and he couldn’t seem to grasp his weapons or find his feet.

Breath coming hard and fast, Karuka slowed down when she knocked Banagher to the ground. Rules of the duel prohibited any magic not inherent to the weapons, so she’d taken him down with sheer speed and skill. Normally that would be the end of it; the loser would yield to the victor and each would go their separate ways. But if she let the Warlord live, he’d corrupt the bog like his father had. He would threaten her and Taische as long as he lived. She couldn’t allow it.

Her spear whirled above her head and she stepped forward, an emblem of finality…

“STOP! One more step and the child dies.”

Karuka’s blood turned to ice in her veins. Held in the pig-rider’s arms with a machete to her throat was her terrified daughter.