(no subject)
Run.
Run run run run.
That's all Dianne did. She fled in a blind panic, not paying attention to where she was going or where she was goibng to end up. dianne didn't care if she ended up in the Deadlands, a midden, or the bottom of a cliff. She didn't care who she ran into. She would settle for being happy just to have her life and remaining unmolested. Those where the only things that held any real meaning for her.
Finally, when the stitch in her side could no longer be ignored, she hid in an alcove. My, how history repeated itself. Her very first day here she'd hidden briefly in an alcove. Struggling to get enough air into her straining lungs, she stuffed her breasts into the remnants of her top before tying the whole affair into a halter/binder sort of garment. At least now she wouldn't accidentally give herself a black eye if they hit her while she was running. She couldn't hide there long, though, and she knew it. She took a very quick peek around, then hurried out and off again.
Her foot slipped in something, and she nearly fell over the prone form of a Dremora's prone foprm on the floor Only his rough groaning told her that he was still alive, but unconscious. She had neither the strength nor skill to defend both of them, and so she kept running. The sounds of battles were everywhere all at once. Lightning bolts and fireballs blasting and roaring. The clash of arms. The shouts of the combatants, and snarls and screams of the wounded. She had to wonder why Mephala kept insisting on attacking the two Princes who could be counted on to take heavy losses yet repel the invaders, inflicting heavy casualties on them in turn. Was she stupid or just insane? Dianne didn't know and she didn't really care. She just wanted to get herself to Prince Daeinde.
Tearing around a corner brought her to Xaurac and Malichai doing battle with a group of perthans. The spiderfolk were far from weak, and their near-berzerk courage carried them far in battle, but Xaurax and Malichai were mopping the floor with them, if warhammers were mops. In any event, more than one of Mephala's people were rudely intrudced to their own brains and innards. A moment later, both Xivilai stood ankle deep in ichor and corpses, catching their breath.
"Is that my knife?" Xaurax said, finally getting a glimpse of Dianne. She ndoded. "It was the knife or a leg of strider. I'm not very good with blunt weapoins, like you guys are, so the knife was the better option."
Xaurax grinned, and even Mal chuckled a little. "What happened to your shirt? They didn't--"
Dianne shook her head. "No, thankfully." She took a moment to share what had happened, ending with "I hope the little kitchen scamp made it to safety, She was so scared of the dark that when the door opened, she just fled." She truly held no ill will for her, and meant what she said.
Xaurax grunted. "Just glad you're all right. the knife seen any action?" Dianne shook her head. "Good, I'd hate to replace it. You can't get that taste out of cutting implements once you've slashed one of those fuckers open. And good pn you for kicking him in the balls."
Even Mal seemed impressed. "Seems like I misjudged you a bit, wench." Dianne had no time to answer that, because now they had even more oerthans heading their way. On the floor, the walls, the ceiling, they approached in a massive wave of spidery doom. Xaurax grabbed her arm. "Time to stop making friends. We need to get out of here, now." He ran, pulling her along with him, Malichai covering their retreat before falling in with them.
"What is it... about this...spot?" Dianne panted as he pulled her along. Malichai answered, "It's the main passage to Prince Daeinde's inner sanctum. Not even where his chambers are. They're wanting the sanctum itself."
"He doesn't hide from his enemies--" she began, but he cut her off. "Not to keep himself safe, wnech. It's knowledge, secrets and shit like that. Now stop asking questions and keep fucking running."
They ran. For beings so massive, they were incredibly fast and agile. Even with having lost weight and becoming stronger all these months Dianne could barely keep up. She gasped and faltered, heart throwing itself in mad pulses against her ribcage until she was sure it would explore from her chest. When she faltered, Xaurax heaved her up under one arm. Dianne yelped in fright, sure that he would drop her and she'd be injured or worse. She felt like the world's largest football, carried by Aeric's biggest, meanest football player.
"Guardsmen!" Malichai shouted. They pulled up to a halt. The royal guards were battling Mephala's more powerful and experienced troops here. For these perthans, it would not be a simple matter of kicking them in the balls and fleeing.These troops were grimly focused in a way that their younger brethren had not yet achieved. They would not be easily distracted from their purpose, nor easily driven off. Dianne knew it as surely as she knew her own name.
Xaurax knew it too. "Keep the knife," he growled at her. "Run. Just run."
"But I can't just--"
"Go!" he snarled. "I'll get another one. There can't be another you. Get moving."
What else could she do? dianne took off running again.
She ran, relying on speed when the coast was clear and as much stealth as she could muster when she had to stay hidden. A door stood open. She didn't know where it led, nor did she care. She could only pray to any gods who might care to listen that there were no enemies within. Fate was with her, however. The room appeared to have been thoroughly ransacked. Still clutching Xaurax's kitchen knife, She looked frantically around for a good hiding place. A moment later, she climbed into a a wardrobe and closed it behind her. Dark, and it smelled of strange herbs and musty earth. A mage or alchemist lived in this room, she guessed. She clutched the knife to her chest and stuggled to not cry.
By the time Prince Daeinde found her a few hours later, she'd stifferened up considerably. He had to help her to climb out of the wardrobe, unkink her locked-up legs and knees. Her foot had fallen asleep. He helped her to walk it off. "I'm just glad you're safe," he told her.
'Is it over?"
He shook his head. Not just yet, I'm afraid, but the major battles have dwindled into small skirmishes. Do you feel up to help out in sickbay? they could sure use you."
"I'll do my best," she promised.
"That's all I can ask," he said, a gentle smile on his face. It was only as he led her there that she realized that his armor and sword had been coated in perthan blood.
Run run run run.
That's all Dianne did. She fled in a blind panic, not paying attention to where she was going or where she was goibng to end up. dianne didn't care if she ended up in the Deadlands, a midden, or the bottom of a cliff. She didn't care who she ran into. She would settle for being happy just to have her life and remaining unmolested. Those where the only things that held any real meaning for her.
Finally, when the stitch in her side could no longer be ignored, she hid in an alcove. My, how history repeated itself. Her very first day here she'd hidden briefly in an alcove. Struggling to get enough air into her straining lungs, she stuffed her breasts into the remnants of her top before tying the whole affair into a halter/binder sort of garment. At least now she wouldn't accidentally give herself a black eye if they hit her while she was running. She couldn't hide there long, though, and she knew it. She took a very quick peek around, then hurried out and off again.
Her foot slipped in something, and she nearly fell over the prone form of a Dremora's prone foprm on the floor Only his rough groaning told her that he was still alive, but unconscious. She had neither the strength nor skill to defend both of them, and so she kept running. The sounds of battles were everywhere all at once. Lightning bolts and fireballs blasting and roaring. The clash of arms. The shouts of the combatants, and snarls and screams of the wounded. She had to wonder why Mephala kept insisting on attacking the two Princes who could be counted on to take heavy losses yet repel the invaders, inflicting heavy casualties on them in turn. Was she stupid or just insane? Dianne didn't know and she didn't really care. She just wanted to get herself to Prince Daeinde.
Tearing around a corner brought her to Xaurac and Malichai doing battle with a group of perthans. The spiderfolk were far from weak, and their near-berzerk courage carried them far in battle, but Xaurax and Malichai were mopping the floor with them, if warhammers were mops. In any event, more than one of Mephala's people were rudely intrudced to their own brains and innards. A moment later, both Xivilai stood ankle deep in ichor and corpses, catching their breath.
"Is that my knife?" Xaurax said, finally getting a glimpse of Dianne. She ndoded. "It was the knife or a leg of strider. I'm not very good with blunt weapoins, like you guys are, so the knife was the better option."
Xaurax grinned, and even Mal chuckled a little. "What happened to your shirt? They didn't--"
Dianne shook her head. "No, thankfully." She took a moment to share what had happened, ending with "I hope the little kitchen scamp made it to safety, She was so scared of the dark that when the door opened, she just fled." She truly held no ill will for her, and meant what she said.
Xaurax grunted. "Just glad you're all right. the knife seen any action?" Dianne shook her head. "Good, I'd hate to replace it. You can't get that taste out of cutting implements once you've slashed one of those fuckers open. And good pn you for kicking him in the balls."
Even Mal seemed impressed. "Seems like I misjudged you a bit, wench." Dianne had no time to answer that, because now they had even more oerthans heading their way. On the floor, the walls, the ceiling, they approached in a massive wave of spidery doom. Xaurax grabbed her arm. "Time to stop making friends. We need to get out of here, now." He ran, pulling her along with him, Malichai covering their retreat before falling in with them.
"What is it... about this...spot?" Dianne panted as he pulled her along. Malichai answered, "It's the main passage to Prince Daeinde's inner sanctum. Not even where his chambers are. They're wanting the sanctum itself."
"He doesn't hide from his enemies--" she began, but he cut her off. "Not to keep himself safe, wnech. It's knowledge, secrets and shit like that. Now stop asking questions and keep fucking running."
They ran. For beings so massive, they were incredibly fast and agile. Even with having lost weight and becoming stronger all these months Dianne could barely keep up. She gasped and faltered, heart throwing itself in mad pulses against her ribcage until she was sure it would explore from her chest. When she faltered, Xaurax heaved her up under one arm. Dianne yelped in fright, sure that he would drop her and she'd be injured or worse. She felt like the world's largest football, carried by Aeric's biggest, meanest football player.
"Guardsmen!" Malichai shouted. They pulled up to a halt. The royal guards were battling Mephala's more powerful and experienced troops here. For these perthans, it would not be a simple matter of kicking them in the balls and fleeing.These troops were grimly focused in a way that their younger brethren had not yet achieved. They would not be easily distracted from their purpose, nor easily driven off. Dianne knew it as surely as she knew her own name.
Xaurax knew it too. "Keep the knife," he growled at her. "Run. Just run."
"But I can't just--"
"Go!" he snarled. "I'll get another one. There can't be another you. Get moving."
What else could she do? dianne took off running again.
She ran, relying on speed when the coast was clear and as much stealth as she could muster when she had to stay hidden. A door stood open. She didn't know where it led, nor did she care. She could only pray to any gods who might care to listen that there were no enemies within. Fate was with her, however. The room appeared to have been thoroughly ransacked. Still clutching Xaurax's kitchen knife, She looked frantically around for a good hiding place. A moment later, she climbed into a a wardrobe and closed it behind her. Dark, and it smelled of strange herbs and musty earth. A mage or alchemist lived in this room, she guessed. She clutched the knife to her chest and stuggled to not cry.
By the time Prince Daeinde found her a few hours later, she'd stifferened up considerably. He had to help her to climb out of the wardrobe, unkink her locked-up legs and knees. Her foot had fallen asleep. He helped her to walk it off. "I'm just glad you're safe," he told her.
'Is it over?"
He shook his head. Not just yet, I'm afraid, but the major battles have dwindled into small skirmishes. Do you feel up to help out in sickbay? they could sure use you."
"I'll do my best," she promised.
"That's all I can ask," he said, a gentle smile on his face. It was only as he led her there that she realized that his armor and sword had been coated in perthan blood.