It started slowly, akin to the rhythm in which a blacksmith hammers upon molten metal, yet with each blow Leondris' heartbeat rang through his mind and agony shot like lightning through his being. Then, suddenly, breaking the rhythm just as he was starting to understand it, consciousness smashed into him as if shot from a cannon. He wanted to scream as each of his senses flooded his mind and panic overcame his reason yet all he could manage was to choke and gag as his body spammed uncontrollably upon hard ground. His helmet was stifling to the extreme, the thought that he needed to get it off if he had any chance of survival ran through him like wildfire, and he begged the wraithbone locks to unlatch as he scratched and pulled upon the green helm. It went tumbling through the air as he desperately clawed it from his face not a moment before emptying the contents of his stomach, a white frothy paste that burned his throat and mouth as it came up, upon grey unfamiliar ground.
At first he attempted to crawl away from it, as if the helmet was the cause of all his pain, sobbing as he collapsed barely a foot from where he began. He curled up like a child in the womb as breath came to him in short labored gasps and his body ached as if he had fought a battle a thousand hours long. Leondris lay like this, pathetic, for a time truly unknown to him yet it felt like millennia before enough reason returned to him to begin thinking even in an echo of coherency. Drawing upon his time walking the Path of the Dreamer he delved into himself, registering each of the different pain signals throttling his mind and separating them into chunks that he fed into a mental fire to fuel his focus. It took longer than he expected it to but with the fire Leondris regained control of himself and began actually assessing the situation he found himself in.
He was bleeding from his nose, no, not just his nose, but from his mouth and eyes as well. The wound in his abdomen had seemingly scabbed over while he was unconscious but the frantic movement from when he had awoke tore it open again. Leondris also noticed, more out of discomfort than embarrassment, that his bowels had emptied themselves as well, although if this was before or after he had awoken he didn't know. A soiled suit was not at priority in his mind however, as it's quite scary to wake up bleeding at any time and to wake up bleeding from every orifice on your face was... terrifying. Panic swelled up suddenly and threatened to overwhelm him yet again but this time he had the fire and just as before he fed the panic into it.
Bringing a shaky hand to his eyes he pushed on the corners then wiped down to clear the small red rivers that painted the majority of his face, succeeding more at just smearing it than actually cleaning anything, but the action seemed to stop the flow. Holding a bloody hand in front of his face as a focus point to clear his blurring vision he found himself staring into the bleak scenery of a forest that would best be described as... dead. While the many trees held leaves they were a darker green than Leondris felt they should be, with the bark of the trees a paler white than they should be as well; yet it was the grey dry soil and the gloom that rested about everything that truly gave an impression of death. If he was being honest though, a newborn child would be able to connect this place to death considering the putrid stink that hung muggy in the air... or that could just be his suit.
Pushing himself to sit up Leondris was struck by a sudden sense of vertigo that made his head swim before he directed his focus outward to regain his balance. He felt almost empty with so much of his mind locked off, fed into the fire, but he knew he needed to be hollow until he could properly recover. His full mind was still too unstable. The Eldar stood and walked the few paces to reach where his helm had fallen. Bending knee he reached out to pick up his missing piece of armor and almost missed it, the crunch of feet against this dead ground, sounding distinct in the dull unnatural silence of this place but faint even to his keen hearing. Wasting no time he threw his vision around the clearing he had awoken in, searching for his weapons and finding his shuriken pistol laying on the ground on the far side with his chainsword hanging in a bramble bush closer. They must have been tossed by... whatever it was that put him here, but he had no time to reach them, the source of the footsteps was drawing close. Diving forward the Striking Scorpion lay flat behind the risen root of the closest tree assuming a form of perfect stillness and willing the crystalline camouflage coating the wraithbone plates of his armor to adjust themselves to the surrounding light spectrum. Without his helm though he would have to rely upon the root to cover his face.
It wasn't long before the source of the noise arrived although from where Leondris lay he could only see a few inches above the ground where the root provided a gap. What entered the clearing was not a creature Leondris was familiar with, although he could only see its feet, which consisted of only two thick toes with dark green skin. It did however stand on two legs and as he watched the Eldar caught the faint glint of what he believes to be a spearhead. Some sort of Ork variant that has only been able to achieve primitive level technology? The creature walked, it's guard up, scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger, to the pool of blood left where Leondris had lain only moments before. It stooped low allowing Leondris a look at long white tusks and a sharp chin as it sniffed the fresh stain. Even in his hollow state the Eldar cursed at the realization this creature would no doubt be able to find him using smell alone between his still bleeding abdomen and the excrement smeared down his left leg. Confirming his suspicions the creature rose and looked directly at where the Eldar warrior lay prone.
No use now. He rose slowly from his position, willing his camouflage off, hoping to perhaps intimidate the creature as he did not like the idea of having to fight it in his current state and with no weapons. Getting a good look at the thing now though, Leondris knew there was little chance of it being cowardly. It was a tall creature, probably reaching close to seven feet if it stood up straight, but it remained in a hunched crouching stance with its spear held before it. It's body was one of tight corded muscle with an ugly snarling face showing sharp teeth with two long tusks protruding from its mouth and sporting a tall red mohawk that ran down its back. It wore a simple loincloth and blue warpaint was scrawled across the dark green of its skin in simple patterns. Leondris didn't spend long contemplating if he could reason with it.
The creature did seem to hesitate at the sight of him, the way he de-cloaked, the strangeness of his armor, but the thing seemed to decide that it could better ponder what the Eldar warrior actually was after Leondris was a corpse cooling on the ground. The spear thrust that followed was quick but the Striking Scorpion dodged it expertly, at least it looked that way, as once again the he was struck by a sudden sense of vertigo that blurred his vision and made two of everything for a frighteningly shaky moment. The beast seemed to sense this and pressed the advantage getting dangerously close even as Leondris bobbed and weaved around it's attacks. In his current state however his body didn't move as quickly as he wanted it to and a few of the creatures attacks had drug the spearhead uselessly against the wraithbone plates of his armor. Ducking under a spear swipe Leondris contemplated how to strike against the creature, perhaps punching where kidney and pressure point should be, but the thought came too late.
The creature had risen up, even taller than Leondris had guessed at full height, and in that last swipe had re-positioned both of his three-fingered hands sliding them closer on the wooden shaft. In a small but powerful leap the creature brought the spear horizontal over Leondris then down and up hefting the Striking Scorpion off his feet to lock him in a crushing bear hug. Pulling hard on the strong wood of the spear the green skinned thing was attempting to crush him against its chest, although, more accurately, it was trying to snap his spine after seeing its spear couldn't pierce his armor. Although the wraithbone was holding, the building pressure from the creatures increasing strain was worrying. He did not doubt that the beast could snap him if he let it build to full pull.
A man in panic would perhaps beat his fists uselessly against the slab-muscle chest of the creature or even try punching its face if he wanted to risk goring himself on the long tusks. In his hollow state though Leondris had a different solution in mind: his left hand punched at it's neck, an attack wholly ignored by the beast, but that was only a distraction as his right hand shot up like a snake around it's tusk to jab a thumb into it's eye. The green thing might have been able to ignore punches or even cuts and stabs but there are only a few creatures that don't panic when a thumb enters their eye. This was not one of such creatures. It roared as the thumb dug in, twisting about in rage and pain, although, to the creature's credit, it did not let go... which was frustrating.
The beast's crushing hug slacked for a moment, a sweet moment of relief Leondris had been hoping to exploit, but before he could react the thing retaliated slamming the spear shaft back into him with a redoubled effort fueled by the pain and discomfort of an eye currently being gouged. The force of it squeezed the air from the Eldar's lungs and he had distinct difficulty filling them again. With his left hand Leondris grabs the creature's left tusk and pulls to the side while at the same time using his right hand, still dug into the thing's eye, to push up. The beast was forced to pivot from side to side in order to keep its balance, roaring as its face was steered about by the strange warrior. Whether from the movement or the discomfort the force of the hug lessened again and this time Leondris was ready.
Pulling down he used the creature's own head as an anchor to pull his legs up under him, an act that strained nearly every muscle in the Eldar's body and caused a sting of pain from his wound that threatened to overwhelm even the fire. The green beast's tusks scraping against his chest plate in a sound reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard. Curled up like a ball with his feet placed flat against the thing's chest the Striking Scorpion pushed off; finally freeing himself from it's grasp and sending him hurtling through the air to tumble inelegantly into a large bramble bush. The black thorns of the bush dug into the exposed flesh of his face but he had aimed for the bush and a cruel smile twisted his features as his fingers wrapped around the familiar hilt of his chainsword. Thinking this battle over the Eldar spun back to his feet, tumbling out of the bush with the fang blades of his weapon hissing their anger, only to find his smile short lived.
Standing alongside the creature he had been locked with, who now rubbed at it's right eye, were three more of the beasts. Nearly identical save for variations in the tusks and tattoo patterns that painted their bodies they looked at him with a mix of curiosity and deadly outrage. One of them spoke in a crude language Leondris did not recognize but the statement did not sound kindly. Straightening himself and assuming a waiting guard the Eldar warrior spoke back knowing the beast couldn't understand him either, "you to."
This seemed to be the only provocation they needed as the four of them charged roaring their collective fury. Leondris did not wait for them to reach him instead running forward keeping himself low and launching into a practiced flurry of cutting patterns and parries as he attempted to get in among them. The creatures crowded themselves trying to get at him, limiting their movement and attack range as each of them wanted the kill for themselves, allowing the strange green-armored warrior to dance about them with ease as they fussed about not hitting each other. Now relying upon the fact that these creature's weapons, three with spears and the fourth wielding a short ax in each hand, could not actually pierce the plating of his armor without large direct force Leondris cut at them scoring gashes along legs, arms, and chests in equal. The thick flesh of the beasts was taking longer for his blade to chew through than he first thought it would but this could also be due to his waning strength.
They circled him more cautiously now, weapons held out, yet the various wounds he had inflicted didn't seem to actually bother them in any visible way. In fact, already blood had stopped flowing from the cuts, even the deeper ones. This fight was drawing out for too long; from the beginning Leondris was in no condition for any sort of conflict and he could feel the last remnants of his strength sapping from him with each movement. He needed to either finish them soon or find a way out and neither looked like an easy option. Leondris settled upon a course of action just as the green creatures pushed his guard forcing the Eldar to dive between two of them feeling the distinct whip of air as a spear passed only an inch from his exposed head.
He forsook the opportunity for a counterattack instead dashing across the clearing and tumbling to grasp the scattered shuriken pistol in his off-hand. The creatures had followed after his movements quickly but even so the Eldar's superior speed had put a solid five feet between Leondris and the closest beast as he leveled the ranged weapon at it's snarling head. Squeezing the trigger he awaited the familiar snipping noise of the small blue crystalline razorblades leaving the wraithbone barrel, only, it never came. He had only a second of alarm to curse himself for forgetting that he had not reloaded since he had spent the well during the roof engagement before the beast was upon him again.
The creature leaped at him with a kick towards his pistol-wielding hand, perhaps recognizing the smooth white item as a gun, an attack the Eldar warrior had not expected and his reflexive movement actually worsened the blow. He twisted his hand, a move that would have put the shuriken that should have poured from the small nuzzle cutting into the attacking limb but without any it just made his fingers exposed. The flat foot slammed into his hand catching his pinky and ring finger and bending them back fully in a sick pop, breaking them at the joint, and the creature followed through into a spear thrust at Leondris' head. Caught in the middle of the sudden pain from his broken fingers threatening to overwhelm his focus the Striking Scorpion did not respond fully in time instead only jerking slightly to the side allowing the spearhead to dig into the flesh of his face just above his right eyebrow cutting up onto his forehead as he leaned back from the force of the blow allowing it to take him into a flip away from the attacker.
When he landed near prone, his legs bent making him look like even more of an animal than his tusked counterparts, his vision blurred, this time taking far longer to clear than before. His enemies were starting to approach him again, slowly and seemingly congratulating the one that had scored blood in their guttural tongue. Was this to be his end? Would he survive whatever strange occurrence that placed him in this unknown place only to die to these creatures? What of his spirit stone? No doubt his body will fill their cook fires but what of his spirit stone, would his kin ever find and recover it so that he may join the Infinity Circuit?
So turned inward in fear and doubt was he that once again he almost missed it. An arrow shot out from the unknown taking the one who had broken Leondris' fingers in the neck. It gargled it's pain and surprise just as it's companions reacted, squatting low and whipping their sight quickly around the edges of the clearing searching the many shadows for the source of the attack. They would regret taking their attention away from the alien warrior. Leondris' shot forward, his vision blurred yet he paid it no mind as he gave himself to the battle-fury of Khaine that remained ever lurking in his Aspect Warriors - truly a last ditch effort for survival. The chainsword hissed its hunger and Leondris first brought it down in a hard vertical slash upon the outstretched shaft of a spear chewing through the tough wood easily enough and destroying the weapon before launching into a flurry of deep cutting thrusts.
In a clearer state of mind Leondris would have worried for the potential attack coming from his sides and back but now... he didn't have enough thinking capacity to worry about anything. Once again the creature gave credit to it's race with how well it fended off the alien warrior equipped only with a broken spear but ultimately Leondris pounced and plunged his hissing blade into the beast's heart. In his fury, guided by the bloody handed god, he let the chainsword tear itself violently out of the now deceased creature's chest showering his green armor in fresh blood to mix with the dried blood leftover from the human cultists and the Eldar's own. At this point it would be hard for an onlooker to determine which color, green or red, was actually the primary.
Standing, Leondris looked for his next target and was surprised to find only one of the creatures left to oppose him. The one that had taken the first arrow now lay upon the ground with two other shafts sprouting from it's corpse; one other had completely vanished from the clearing with the last now leveling its spear at the Striking Scorpion with caution in its eyes. Leondris acted first charging the last creature chainsword raised but the spear-wielding foe had been prepared for the action thrusting down with its weapon and catching Leondris on the left breastplate scrapping a thin scar upon the green wraithbone as it sparked past under his armpit. The beast seemed surprised that it didn't pierce the armor but reacted quickly kicking his left leg back and allowing its own weight to twist it around as the Eldar neared. Pushing its spear vertical the creature pulled it back to collide with the chainsword just as it snaked out to stab and tear; the blow would have knocked the sword out of a lesser warriors hand but instead the Eldar allowed the force of it to carry him into his own spin whipping the fanged sword back around to chew into the beast's long arm.
Seemingly ignoring the pain of having half its arm violently cut away the creature jumped back completely forsaking the spear in doing so. The long weapon clattered onto the ground as Leondris rose from his battle crouch and locked eyes with the green thing as it cradled it's wounded limb. There was a focus in the creature's eyes that brought a clarity back to Leondris. Was this some sort of warrior respect? There was hatred in those eyes, something strange in and of itself, Orks did not hate things. Orks were the embodiment of pure violence, conflict was their natural state, aggression their primary form of mind - if you could all it that, they did not hate what they fought. On the contrary they seemed to develop fondness for what gave them a good battle. So why then did this Ork-kin show hatred and focus? Why did an understanding pass between them?
He let it leave and retrieved his helmet.
Squatting in a tree for seven hours would best be described as dreadfully boring. Squatting in a tree while watching a tribe of the cannibalistic ancient enemies of your people would best be described as dangerously boring. Still just as boring but now if you gave into that boredom and missed something or made a mistake it could result not only in your death but the deaths of many more. Still so terribly boring though. Ranger Lilatha was used to spending many of her days doing such things and this day was no different, at least, until an arcane vibration pulsed through the air that even the Forest Trolls below noticed.
They exchanged words about it before four of them split off from the rest of the tribe heading westward. Curious about the source of this distortion herself and knowing the larger groups route by heart Lilatha prioritized following the four. Her legs ached from remaining still for so long but the pain was quickly worked out as she snaked her way from her perch in the tree and into the shadowy foliage below. Moving unseen through the Ghostlands was both easy and surprisingly complicated. The forest provided plenty of shadows but the ground lacked in the way of cover beyond the pale trees; much of what foliage it did have that stood tall enough to use for hiding was poisonous. Someone untrained and unfamiliar with the land would find it aggravatingly difficult to safely navigate. Of course, Lilatha, Ranger of the Farstrider Enclave, was both expertly trained and had years of familiarity with the land - she was but another shadow in a forest of shadows.
She followed the four Trolls for some time, it was hard to tell exactly how long with no clear view of the sky, until they came to a stop on one of the countless trails that veined the forest. The ax wielding one sniffed at the air, Lilatha reflexively flinched further down only to curse herself for the action, yet the Trolls remained unaware of their stalker instead picking up on a different scent. Exchanging more words in their rough language the four of them separated - each sniffing the air and following it in a different direction. Unfortunately Lilatha's own sense of smell is not as keen as her enemies so she would not be able follow whatever it is they picked up on instead she decided it would be best to remain tailing the leader.
The main threat that comes with such a situation is that when one of the Trolls that split off returns they could effectively be coming from any direction. They could simply stumble across the hidden ranger even if they don't spot her because of a difference in perspective. She had a tight grip on the hilt of the long dagger at her belt as she moved up through the shadows and brush careful to avoid any crunching twigs and those damnable thorns that would have you itching for hours from a poke. Ultimately though it wasn't the ax wielding Troll that found what they sought, a realization that became abundantly clear when the pained roar of another pierced the silence of the forest sending Lilatha's target sprinting further west. She, of course, followed, now caring far less for twigs certain the Troll's own crashing movements and heavy breathing would mask any noise she made.
It's quite difficult to keep up with a Troll running full stride but a Ranger doesn't last long if they can't move quickly through a forest. The source of the other Troll's distress was one she hadn't expected however. She arrived within sight of the forest clearing just in time to witness what appeared to be some sort of half-elven man in strange blood-soaked green armor yanking around the head of a Troll trying to crush him in a bear hug. Lilatha settled behind nearby brush and watched as the man dislodged himself, sent tumbling into a bramble, with the rest of the Troll's party now gathering in the clearing from the different directions they had scattered. Luckily none of them passed near where Lilatha now hid.
What exactly was a half-elf doing this deep in the forest? The strange man sprung out of the bramble twisting around to brandish a sword unlike any she had seen before. It was long and sleek in design, looking very elvish in influence, but instead of a traditional blade it held multiple small fangs that rotated slowly along it's length. The weapon was made from an unfamiliar substance that made it look almost like bone and it gave off a harsh growl. He seemed a bit taken back by the sudden appearance of three other Trolls alongside the first he had been fighting but he gave off a deadly air as he assumed a guard. Intended to fight him is he? Running probably isn't an option considering the bleeding wound on his side.
She watched as they engaged and the strange warrior danced an impressive game around the Trolls who seemed to be getting in each other's way more than being any sort of help. It seems that this half-elf doesn't know how to fight Trolls though for he's continually trying to inflict disabling wounds, something the Troll's natural regenerative prowess made a lesson in futility. He wasn't getting anywhere going for cuts like those and it was only a matter of time until a spearhead found that exposed face of his. Was he worth exposing herself for? Even if she joined they were outnumbered two to one and he was already injured. Lilatha didn't like those odds and a tight scar on her left thigh reminded her of what happens when you jump into a losing battle - so she waited.
Just as she settled into her decision however the strange warrior did something unexpected. Instead of launching into a counterattack as he had been doing after one of his dodging dives he instead dashed across the clearing tumbling to scoop up what appeared to be some sort of strange firearm. Was it of Dwarven make? No, the design didn't match them and it looked as if it was the same unknown bone-like material as his armor. Something wasn't right about this whole situation. The arcane vibration, the strange gear, and how did he even get this far north without the Ranger's knowing in the first place? Too many questions and she wanted answers.
Raising her bow Lilatha drew and knocked in arrow with the trained fluidity of a lifetime's practice. She barely thought now about how to actually go about firing only instead where it was she wanted the arrow to be: the soft gap of flesh on the neck that led straight to the windpipe. The situation in the clearing had developed badly for the half-elf, he was lying near prone now with her target having carved a bloody chuck from his face, but the sudden appearance of an arrow in the Troll's neck changed everyone's opinion on the fight. Already a second arrow was knocked and being drawn back with a third arrow held between her pinky and ring. She loosed as the Troll stumbled back taking the beast in the chest, between his third and forth rib, as the half-elf saw his opportunity dashing to engage another of the Troll party. Already though there could be no doubt that the remaining Trolls had figured out where she was firing from, the bastards are cunning like that, she needed to drop her first target now. Her third arrow struck him on the left side digging through tight muscle to bury itself in it's lung.
Then she was being charged. The ax-wielding Troll, their leader, was barreling down at her taking the distance quickly with those long strides. Lilatha jumped back and with her now empty hand tore a sack at her belt spilling jagged metal shards across the ground as she disengaged. It wouldn't stop the Troll, in fact he barely seemed to notice them despite it's feet being bare, but it gave her the time needed to rapid fire an arrow into it's stomach. Then she dropped the bow completely drawing two daggers, her heavy long dagger and a lighter throwing, to enter a defensive crouch. If the caltrops or the arrow bothered the Troll at all it didn't show as the beast launched into a flurry of bloodthirsty strikes that Lilatha had to nearly roll her whole body to parry. The Troll didn't maintain the upper hand for long though as she parried another strike from it's right ax then spun under its arm using her lighter dagger to cut a gash along its leg. It wouldn't do much but it would slow him turning around as she danced behind the beast.
With a deft hand she unclipped her cloak and twirled it around her off-hand, the hand holding the throwing dagger, as she stepped away from the enraged Troll. The creature was quick on it's heels but Lilatha was faster and by the time it got it's gashed leg to turn it around the ranger hurled the dagger with the cloak trailing behind. The blade missed completely but the billowing green cloth got tangled on the Troll's tusks and wrapped up it's axes as it attempted to cut it away. When it could see clearly it could only watch helplessly as Lilatha spun under its guard and jammed the heavy dagger under its chin and into the brain. It could be considered dead before the body hit the ground.
Retrieving her bow and knocking another arrow she approached the clearing again just as the last Troll finished its exchange with the half-elf and took off into the forest. She contemplated firing after the creature but didn't consider the effort worth the reward, it's not like a single arrow could bring it down anyway. The half-elf went to retrieve his helmet and with no small amount of cautionary hesitation Lilatha decided to join him in the clearing. A faint hissing of air could be heard as the helm apparently locked itself into place on the warrior's suit then he turned to face her as she stepped into view. A tense silence settled between them; the ranger unsure of what to say and the strange warrior looking more than a little intimidating covered head to toe in various shades of blood. He tensed up and for a breathtakingly frightening moment Lilatha thought he was going to attack but instead he toppled over.
"Hey!" She spoke quickly as she rushed to his side. There was no way for her to check for a pulse, the thick suit covered his entire body, but she wasn't going to have gone through all of that just to have him die on her here. She sacrificed her cloak for Fel's sake! Looking to her belt again she produced a bright green folded leaf - unfolding it and rubbing the powdery white sludge held within across the stab wound in the man's abdomen. If she could get to his mouth she would have him drink a health potion but no amount of prying seemed to be able to remove his damnable helmet. "Don't die on me you hear," the ranger grunted out as she hefted the man over her shoulders, "I'll kick your ass if you die on me."
The Enclave was quite surprised when one of it's rangers returned carrying a warrior in strange armor over her shoulders. Lilatha herself was more just relieved to get the weight off her and was unresponsive to the barrage of questions presented by those who first greeted her. The man was rushed to a medical chamber but without the ability to remove his armor, and they tried everything they could without risking further damage to his condition, there was little more they could do for him beyond a cleaning and what poultice Lilatha had already applied. They merely had to wait and hope he pulled through. A day passed and Lilatha gave a full debrief of what had occurred in the woods to Captain Helios, who in turn assigned Lilatha to overseeing his care. "Finders keepers as they say," being an exact quote of the man. Lilatha though was actually quite pleased with the decision, she was curious about the half-elf, well everyone was really. Around midday she went to the medical chamber to check his bandages and upon setting a tray down heard the squeak of a moving bed.
Turning around she found the man already sat up, his feet on the ground though still sitting upon the bed, and starring at her through the red eyes of his helm. They had cleaned his armor, whipping it down as best they could, and now the man possessed a sense of majesty to him despite simply sitting on a medical bed. Once again though she found herself at a loss for words and before she could come up with something to say she simply couldn't. She couldn't speak. Wait, what? Shock and fear ran through her like wildfire as her brain cried out desperately for air. The half-elf had shot up like lightning clutching the ranger by the neck and hoisting her off her feet. His strength was like the steel of a blademaster and his arm barely moved at all as she struggled in his grasp. Her eyes couldn't move from the blood red shine of his as her vision began to sparkle and black flecks danced across her sight. He turned his head slightly as if a curious dog examining a new toy.
The door opened and Vynna stepped in carrying a plate of fruits only to drop it at the sight that greeted her, "Lilatha!"
Author's Notes:
This took far longer to get posted than I had originally anticipated. I apologize for that, work had me switching shifts and I had a bunch of other stuff going on and excuses excuses. While I do have other projects I am writing for I do promise to try and update this on a more reasonable timetable. Despite the fact that this whole chapter was basically one action scene I hope it didn't drag.
As always, feel free to leave a review offering your opinion, any critique you may have, or any suggestions/wants for the future of the story. Thank you.