Marauders
"Now you do realize this was your own fault, don't you?"
The maniac screamed at her. Or at least tried to as blood spilt out from his cut throat. The "scream" was more like a gurgle.
"Good," she said, sitting down on a rock and using the seawater to clean the blood off her sword. "I'm glad you agree."
The marauder coughed once. Then twice. And as his breathing ended, as he sunk into the beach's sand, he didn't cough again.
Gabrielle sighed. It was such a waste really. If only the brute had been willing to take out his fury on the monsters prowling Wraeclast, not her. Then again, after fighting everything the blasted land had thrown at her, only to come to the cove and find it abandoned, maybe he'd done just that.
Or maybe Merveil's saving all her beasties for one last go. Huh. Kinda cool actually.
Gabrielle sheathed her sword. 'Cool.' All things considered, that probably wasn't the best word to use for a homicidal siren giving birth to homicidal creatures intent on separating her eyes from their sockets.
Part of her wanted to press on. Part of her wanted to return to Lionseye, accept her fate, and make the most of what the shores of Wraeclast had to offer. And another part, a part she thought died in Theopolis, kept her in place.
Maybe I'm mad, Gabrielle thought. Maybe this is just my way of popping myself off.
Glancing to the south, the scion wondered if she should return. The other exiles were there. In theory. All seemed intent on doing their own thing, but apart from her, didn't seem to care about finding out why Dominus and his bastards were on the island. Most were content to stay and do their own thing bar that prattling idiot with his rapier, and what he was up to, Gabrielle didn't care. She'd seen enough of his kind back in Theopolis, her drunk, obnoxious, monstrous husband of twelve hours especially. It had made cutting the bastard's throat all the more satisfying.
"And here I am," she said. "Playing hero."
She blinked. Who am I even talking to?
The marauder's body still lay there.
"Oh, right," she said. "You."
Mad. God's sake, I'm talking to a bloody corpse.
Some said that was on the path to necromancy. At least the author of the Necronomicon had. One of many books she'd never get the chance to finish.
And never will now.
"You know what?" the scion asked the corpse. "I don't think we're so different."
The corpse lay there.
"I mean, we're all marauders aren't we?" Gabrielle continued, drawing out a dagger and starting to get the dirt and blood out from under her nails. "Left here to die. Left here to kill. And kill. And kill some more."
The corpse lay there.
"Like the Karui. I read the inscriptions…yes, I'm fluent in their rune system, thank you very much. Invaders, thugs." She laughed. "Lot like me, y'know? I'm a killer too."
Murderer.
The corpse lay there.
"I'm going to die, you know," Gabrielle whispered. "Merveil, most likely. Or if I survive, something inland will kill me. Or a templar. Or Dominus himself. Maybe God himself will strike me down."
The corpse lay there.
"I'm going to die," she repeated again. "Does that mean anything to you?"
The corpse lay there.
"Does it?"
The corpse lay there.
"Well?!"
The corpse-
"Gah!"
Gabrielle drove the dagger into the marauder's back. Blood not yet coagulated spilled out.
"Don't you care?!" she yelled. "Don't you?!"
The dagger went in. And again. And again. Up until the savage's entire back was awash in the red liquid. Until all of Gabrielle's hands were awash in it. Until she sobbed, casting the dagger aside and collapsed onto the sand.
"Home," she whispered. "Home…"
Thunder rumbled in the air. She'd been here for a week, and the sun had never shone freely through the clouds.
"Marauders, killers…" she whispered. "All same. All the same…"
Thunder rumbled again.
"Why am I here?" she asked. "Why do I even bother?"
To help the people of Lionseye find a way inland?
Because I'm bored?
Because I want to die?
Gabrielle sighed. She wanted to sleep. Lie down, sleep, and wake up in her bed in Theopolis. Husband not included.
Mad. I'm already going mad.
"Yeah, well," she said. "Helping people isn't too bad for madness is it?"
You're talking to yourself.
"Oh screw you."
The scion got to her feet. She sheathed her dagger. Maybe she was mad. But if she could last long enough to do…whatever her madness wanted her to do, she'd be satisfied by that.
"Um, yeah," she said, nudging the corpse. "You won't tell anyone about this will you? My whole breakdown thing?"
The corpse lay there.
"Thanks."
A/N
It was my original intent to have dialogue between the scion and marauder character class (as opposed to a rogue exile) originally. Decided against it though - madness, grimdark, etc., probably more appropriate to the setting.