Private Tales The wrong place

[Maranae]

The woman made frustrated noises that could be clearly heard over the clash of steel on steel. They were sounds of raw emotion, something beyond what the fight currently underway called for. Talon had no time consider any of it, though. The sting of a wound, followed by another, hot blood flowing down an arm and running down his chest testament to the bounty hunter's skill with her sword.

A quick glance. The other assailant had relinquished his spear, burly frame wrapped in steel chain. If the woman was a skirmisher, than this man was the heavy infantry. Muscle corded those arms, and it was very possible that the bastard could stand toe to toe with the bear and hold his own by sheer brute strength alone. Almost.

The sharp crack of the lance breaking was like a shot in a clear sky. The warrior drew a heavy bladed cutlass, stood ready to meet the bear even as he jumped back from snapping teeth.

A moment only. Talon faced his foe again and was surprised to find her staring at him, eyes filled with hatred while tears ran down her face. She gripped the hilt of her sword tight enough that he fancied he could hear the bones crackle. He wanted to say something - to apologize, maybe, for his hastiness in leaving those years before. They would ring hollow, and solve none of the ills that lie between them.

"Do not hurt man who is Valthar!" The sudden exclamation, spoken in a feminine voice, cut through the air like a knife. Three sets of eyes turned to regard the ragged woman jump from the building they were fighting in front of, to land atop the spearman. She had been on the roof, or perhaps in the hayloft above. Talon blinked. The beast really did have the complete semblance of humanity, and it spoke besides!

"Stay back," the woman hissed at him, some feral noise coming from her throat as she came back at Talon again with every bit of savagery intact.

For his part, the warrior facing Valthar fell back several steps, then reached up to grab the struggling form atop him. Though he grabbed her by an arm and yanked with all his considerable might, the best he could do was slide her around so that she hung off his chest. She was making some noise of negation that did not exactly fall into the category of words, and the man finally gave up trying to dislodge her.

Instead, he took a knife from his belt, quick as can be, and drove the point of it repeatedly into her back, taking care not to stab himself in the process. If she had been loud before, her shriek of agony cut through the air loud enough to wake the dead. Her grip must have tightened, because the man himself howled, the sound of crunching bone in his shoulder just as easy to pick out.

And then she bit him. Through his right bicep, and it must have been hard because the crunch of bone was once again loud. He struck her in the head with a mailed fist, and she went limp, blood pouring from numerous wounds even as he staggered back, face blanched white, clutching at his own wounds.

 

[Baise]

Valthar watched in shock, knowing that he should have done something, anything to try and keep her safe. He had started to fear that he would never know what Mara's fate would be. That he would die with Talon on this field and never find out of they caught her.

Death was just a part of life, but it would have seemed a waste to throw theirs away without making a difference. If anything, they would have put the other hunters back on Mara's trail.

Mara was shoved from the man. Or perhaps she simply fell as all sense was knocked from her. She laid on her back, sun splashed across her fiery hair as she gawped for air. She could have run. However simple she was from the work of that mage she had made the clear decision to throw herself into the fray to save him.

Blood had matted his fur, but no injury was enough to slow him down. Not with the hot well of rage that burst forth. He bounded forwards, swiping at the injured man. Then he placed that paw down hard on the ground to leave himself standing protectively over Mara.

 

[Maranae]

The blow bowled the man over, and he howled in pain even if the claws were not really enough to pierce the armor he wore. All the same, bones were already broken, and his arm hung at a twisted angle as he came back upright, face as white as a sheet.

He trembled as he stood, heaving for breath, staring at Maranae first and then, with a groan of pain, at his bitten arm.

Meanwhile, the battle between Vanessa and Talon continued. Assured that her second opponent was otherwise occupied, Vanessa pressed the assault on Talon, who fell back below a flurry of blows. Blood splashed through the air as she scored a hit, and then again, and then again in quite rapid succession. Talon grunted, fell back as the huntress fell back too, panting. Her bore another cut to his face, and a deep gash in the bicep of his left arm that rendered the entire arm useless. His blood dripped from insensate fingers into the dirt.

"Finally...have you...you cheat..." she gasped at him, sweat running down her face. The look in her eyes was triumphant. Talon stood there, looking at her blankly. He knew he was outmatched, and waited for the killing stroke.

It didn't come. A piercing shriek cut through the air like a knife, and both of them looked to Drake as he clutched at his arm. Talon blinked twice, not trusting what he saw the first time; the flesh of his arm around the wound - around where Mara had bitten him - was turning a ghastly black, and pus was already starting to leak from the marks of her teeth. The man was clawing at the arm, screaming in pain as the darkness seemed to spread up the limb.

"What....in the hell..." he managed, even as the spearman dropped to his knees. Vanessa stared, blinking rapidly and looked between the bear and the swordsman, and then cursed. She pelted away, yielding the field to the pair even as the spearman fell forward, his whole body twitching violently.

 

[Baise]

Three people looked as if they were ready to die. One man, one Svalen, one failed chimera experiment. All bleeding, all still breathing.

The air before the bear's maw misted with each huffed breath. Valthar looked down at the twitching body. They had all been shouting warnings about poison and that was all it looked like to him now.

His form shifted and shimmered. Valthar was left standing over Mara. Blood started to stain his clothes immediately. He looked to each of them in turn and wondered how they would possibly leave this town alive.

"Mara?" he asked quietly, not daring to touch her just yet.

 

[Maranae]

Wounds mended themselves in their magical fashion, flesh knitting itself before Valthar's eyes. The steady rise and fall of the girl's chest indicated she still lived, even though the healing was proof enough of that. She did not stir, however. A torpid state, brought on by trauma? Just how many hurts could Maranae suffer and still survive, either in flesh or in spirit?

There was no real way of knowing.

"You should see to your injuries," Talon said as he stepped up, eyes on the fiery red head. The look in his eyes was of confusion and indecision. He looked at the blade in his hand, and shook his head. The object he had pursued lay tight there before him, but he could not bring himself to finish her.

Not that the Norden would let him.

"Get...out of my head!"

Talon snapped his head to the fallen spearman. His eyes were wide open, bright with pain and terror. There was something odd about him, a kind of fuzziness around the edges. It made the eyes water to look at him.

Talon looked to Valthar, question in his eyes.

 

[Baise]

Valthar had seen that strange haze that the eyes could not follow before. Despite his protective stance he took a step away from Mara. He was concerned that she was about to shift back into those creatures again. Soon his attention was drawn to, and held only by, the spearman who was writhing on the ground. Valthar couldn't bring himself to feel any sorrow for him. A few inches and more weight into it and the first thrust of his blade could have split Valthar's heart in two.

"I don't know," Valthar replied to that look. The woman had escaped but she had left her marks upon Talon. There was a history there that he did not understand. Valthar didn't even want the full story. The woman was still a threat. Talon could be, depending which way he decided to swing. After everything he doubted any of them wanted more of a fight just yet.

Mara had thrown herself upon the one that had attacked him. Even if she could heal, she had suffered grievous wounds on his account. That was a truth he could cling to. Valthar longed for the simple life again.