Max Dirks watched in amazement as his inaccurate last ditch shots pelted Letho Ravenheart. It was ironic that one of the greatest warriors on Althanas had been felled by iron bullets fired by a weapon from another world. In a way, the ‘hero of Althanas’ had been cheated. But put that way, all the combatants in Cell had been cheated. Not only was he using advanced weapons, but for the good majority of the battle, Dirks had also been picking them off from behind an impenetrable wall. They had every right to hate him. Even so, Dirks felt no remorse for them. Letho, if it was actually him, had forced Dirks’ hand in self defense and had to be punished. He, like the others, was still just a pawn. Besides, the marshal would have eventually died anyway. No one would interfere with Max Dirks' revenge.
Somehow Dirks had been invigorated by Letho’s death. Like magic, the pain in his wrist subsided and his nausea was swept away. His ribs were fucked up, his shoulder had a hole in it and his right hand was bleeding, but Dirks still felt in control of the situation. Until Godhand shot the grenade, that is. The impact was not as strong as Atzar Kellon’s ice ball, but it was enough send the criminal tumbling once more. He flew backwards and ended up on his back in the mud. Several rocks landed on him, some broke his skin and a wave of mud nearly buried in him the ground.
What was more concerning though, was that the flash of the explosion had temporarily blinded him. When he finally regained his sight, he was lying a mere 15 feet away from a werewolf of sorts. Was that Letho? “Shit!” Dirks exclaimed, climbing to his feet and taking several steps backwards. He felt his leg bump against something on the ground. Fortunately, the Letho werewolf was not interested in the criminal and immediately took off after Lillian. Dirks was slightly tempted to chase after it. Lillian, after all, was one of his primary targets. However, going head to head unarmed with a werewolf was not wise given his condition. For the moment, Dirks was content to let it wear here down. Somewhat relieved, Dirks finally wiped the mud out of his face and spat blood. Mud had mixed with blood and he was an absolute mess.
In the aftermath of the attack, Dirks looked down to find out what he was stepping on. There, below his feet was the body of the vampire, Lorenor. The sight of his mutated friend make Dirks remember the prevalida katana that was still trapped to his back. Dirks slipped off his trench coat off, revealing what used to be a white jumpsuit. The jumpsuit was now a dingy shade of brown. Finally exposed, the shavings from the broken chainmail vest started pouring from the hole Lillian’s dagger had created above his breast. Dirks reached over and tore the jumpsuit slightly, allowing more of the pieces to fall out. When he was no longer clinking, Dirks reached to his back and withdrew the prevalida katana from its sheath. The weapon was clumsy in his hands, especially considering he was pressing it against the cut Lillian had given him when she pulled away the dagger, but it would have to do. Out of bullets and out of luck, Dirks would have to rely on the ancient weapon to survive.
From this vantage point Dirks could see the entire battlefield and no one could surprise him from behind. Werewolf Letho was attacking Lillian. Everyone else was still entangled in a mess around Bloodrose. Everyone except Godhand. The grenade had apparently sent him sprawling into the stands where he laid by himself on a pile of spectators. Now was Dirks’ chance. However, without Letho’s leaping ability, or Godhand’s agility, how was Dirks supposed to climb over the 15 ft adamantine wall? He scanned the battlefield and his eyes fell upon his old friend, the angel Sei Orlouge. Always on the offensive…“Sei!” Dirks yelled, “What the hell are you doing? I said I need your help!” At this point, Dirks was unaware that Sei’s would? spell had attempted to heal him and had been subsequently hijacked by Lillian. Further, he was still not sure Sei was Sei. Even so, the little angel’s wings were the only thing that would carry him into the stands. Not wanting Godhand to recover and jump back down into the fray, Dirks started running towards Sei. However, even though he weighed considerably less without his coat, his injuries significantly slowed his gait. Dirks sincerely hoped the mystic would meet him halfway. One pawn was about to be promoted to Queen.
Out of Character:
Let’s see, Lillian pulled her dagger from Dirks’ hand (but I referred it as though it had happened previously), Sei’s Would? spell temporarily warded off Dirks’ dizziness from the poison and relieved the pain in his wrist, but had no other effect because it was hijacked. Godhand’s blast nailed Dirks. It sent him flying and left chunks of rocks in his skin. The combined rib breaking and rock pummeling has reduced his lung capacity, making Dirks really slow compared to the rest of you. Dirks pulled out his katana and is seeking Sei to fly him into the stands to take out the Striker)