Avaria squared off with the approaching figures, gathering together what scraps of energy she had left for the final defensive attack she could be able to muster, when the extent of Q'ara's lack of knowledge of how to operate a simple aircraft was shown. The machine turned on easily enough, which was soon followed by the expanse of blinking, traveling lights used only for emergencies or traveling through darkened places, the use-only-for-dire-emergency-or-to-merely-piss-someone-off siren, and her music player. Heavy alternative guitar music blared from the obnoxiously large speakers she had installed on the outer sides of her aircart, jacking up her adrenaline without fail.
Just like her to go down in a blaze of glory with her "I'm a total badass" music serving as the background soundtrack.
As the music started a crescendo and the engines whirled into a fast motion, whipping loose strands of her updo into her face, she used the extra burst of wind for her defense. Her hands stretched up above her head, along with a lifted gaze, as she slowly released the breath of air she was holding. The wind started to cyclone around her, starting small and expanding in force and speed. It lifted her from the ground, inch by inch, as the wind swelled to a greater force, daring to go past the level of control she set for herself. Slowly, so very slowly, she curled herself up into a ball, the cyclone of wind now becoming a circular shield of gale winds.
Once the timing was perfect, she suddenly pushed it out, sharply straightening her limbs in a representation of the wind bubble breaking around it. Being the epicenter of a wind explosion such as this came with a cost, however, as it felt like Avaria's limbs were going to be ripped from her. But she had to hold on... Q'ara's life was counting on it.
The explosion died, a sheer drain of energy sapping the strength of the attack rapidly. She fell to the ground, whimpering from the harsh impact. Lacking the will to move as she did, she could only move her eyes to see what she had done, which was what appeared to be a smattering of broken, lifeless bodies falling from the sky. They had, after all, done the equivalent of flying head-first into a wall that suddenly shot towards them.
What else was missing, though, was her music; that could only mean that Q'ara made it out.
A figure that somehow evaded the worst of her attack stepped into Avaria's view, blood pouring from his nose as the areas under his eyes started to blacken from a bruise. "Ch'ruul Orolith!"(1) he called back over his shoulder, seeing Avaria blink at him.
She saw the first man keep looking over his shoulder, awaiting for the arrival of this 'Ch'ruul Orolith'. He then stepped aside, bowing low, as a hooded figure stepped into view. It was dark under the fabric, but she could tell he just bled a presence to take pause over from his very pores. A small breeze tickled over her fingers; she used it in a last act of defiance, pushing it up into the face of the newcomer. It did nothing more than push the hood off of his face, granting her a good view of him.
He was bald, she had gathered from her overall first impression, catching the braided gathering of hair at the base of his skull at the second overall sweep of her eyes. His mouth seemed turned down in a permanent scowl, with the jagged, severely disfiguring scar running down the left side of his face helping that along. Add the beginnings of a broken nose from Avaria herself, and she was looking up at one pissed off looking guy whose hairdresser took too much off the top.
'Ch'ruul Orolith' knelt down close to her, tracing a line of her cheek with a gentle finger. "G'aarl uss," he softly wondered aloud. "T'luus't atssis h'aar aa'raelis pr'uwae reh'sso?"(2)
Okay, this lack of a grasp of normal talking is starting to get on my nerves. She gathered enough spit into her mouth, and promptly introduced it to his forehead in answer.
Orolith sneered at her, wiping his skin clean as he rose. So much more trouble for one meager person. This one below him, though, was strong... one worth savoring. Meeting the gaze of one of his troops still standing, he nodded his head to the prone girl, turning away as he replaced the hood on his head. The power- and this metal manipulator he so wanted- would soon be his. He just needed the right leverage.
Avaria, in the meantime, snarled her defiance at the first strange-talker as he came back, only just bracing herself for the foot aimed at her temple. She did what she wanted; nothing mattered now, save for Q'ara. Her friend would come back, she knew it.
o0o0o
As mentally prepared as Q'ara was for a sharp forward thrust of the engines, she didn't expect the sheer amount of noise that suddenly came from the siren and embedded music files kicking in at the same time. Nor was she prepared to suddenly shoot straight up into the air instead of forward. Forge's flames, how did Avaria really expect her to fly one of these damn things with such sparse instructions? After figuring out that trying to steer herself into going the right way only resulted in the craft spinning in circles while still rapidly ascending, then came the quest to find which dial would steer her forward...
"Air pressure. System. Stabilizing," a mechanic voice cut in, before restoring the music and siren back to its previous volume. The air vents hissed, then hummed, as the system kicked into gear, preventing her ears from popping just in time.
"How the in the flames high am I rising?" she asked aloud, nervously eyeing the dials. They kicked on damn near simultaneously, and since they weren't labeled at all, one turn of the wrong one could simply stop the engines... One plummet to her death in a day was more than enough, thank you.
The one of the furthest left was twisted first. She held her breath, only to release it as the siren turned off. The one next to it then had to be the music, which she could live with for now-
Loud bangs against the metal top of the ship made her cry out sharply with surprise. A quick look out of the front windows showed brief glimpses of the meteor belt she was passing... which meant she was now going orbital. As this was realized, the aircart started losing its rising force, and simply began to float.
"I'm so very screwed..."
"Aircart. Entering. Zero gravity. Zone."
"Tell me something I don't know... like how to go forward, for example..."
"Air pressure. System. Shutting down."
"No, no you're not!" Q'ara shouted to the mechanical voice overhead.
"Synthetic. Air pressure. System. Initiating." A whirring noise from her left showed a panel sliding out, revealing an oxygen mask and tank, the former of which was quickly donned over her mouth and nose. "Synthetic. Air pressure. System. Stabilizing."
"Great... I won't die. Now wha' do I do?"
"Alternative. Power. Initiating. Wind motors. Shutting down. Fuel engines. Initiating. Configuring. Ascent rate."
Right, she was still rising. What did this dial do...?
"Ascent rate. One-hundred. Fifty-four- recalculating. Ninety-nine- recalculating." Once Q'ara realized this was the dial Avaria was referring to, it was turned all the way back up. "Ascent rate. One-hundred. Sixty-five. Kilometers. Per hour. Maximum rate. Acceleration rate. Zero. Kilometers. Per hour. Minimum rate."
"H'okay... thiss dial..." Q'ara murmured aloud, reaching for the one on the end. Pausing mid-reach, she just assessed what happened, feeling as if it was in slow motion. Her speech just slurred... meaning the drug must have been wearing off.
The dial was quickly turned to the right as Q'ara's case of the drunk-giggles came back. If only Avaria could see her now, navigating this like a pro!
"Recalculating. Ascent rate. Zero. Kilometers. Per hour. Minimum rate."
"Tthhankies for tthhat, 'Lola'," Q'ara slurred, giggling louder.
"Acceleration rate. Sixty-five. Kilometers. Per hour. Maximum rate."
"Yer all fired... YER FIRED!" Q'ara shouted, laughing aloud. Who was she kidding, being scared out of her mind like she was before? Set her in front of a new toy, intoxicate her out of her mind, and she'd have a great time! As she swayed the steering back and forth, the mechanical voice above her head continued to speak.
"System. Status check. Initiating. Emergency siren. Peak condition."
"Yer fired, Lola, 'm ssorry!"
"Emergency chutes. Four. Out of. Four. Total count."
"Yer sstill fired, Lola."
"Synthetic. Air pressure. System. Calculating. Five tanks. Containing. Five hours. Constant. Air flow. One tank. Containing. Four point nine-nine. Hours. Constant. Air flow."
"Ya don' rheally take rejjecsshhun well, do ya?"
"Alternative. Fuel tanks. Calculating. Main tank. Containing. Five percent fuel. Secondary tank. Containing. Twenty-six point two. Percent fuel."
"... damn... to the..." Q'ara slumped forward as much as her restraining belts would allow her, the alcohol in her system finally causing her to black out.
"Alternative. Fuel engines. Peak condition. Estimated travel time. Two hours. And. Fifty-six. Minutes. System. Status check. Complete."
o0o0o
All was quiet in the Korcari Wilds, somewhere south of Ostagar. One of the most unthinkable things that could possibly happen has happened- a Blight has started a ravaging trail across the land. What was worse was the fact that there were only two Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden to combat said Blight.
Flemeth muttered quietly to herself as older women were wont to do, stirring the pot she kept at her outdoor fire pit. She had just sent Morrigan and the two Wardens on their way hours ago, and already it was quieter in the forests... just that little bit larger without someone to occupy the space with.
Thoughtfully, she considered the two Wardens. Alistair, an ex-Templar trainee and the senior most Grey Warden hadn't taken the news of the betrayal or the massacre well. It was a hard lesson to learn, but one that simply had to be taught: absolute power corrupts absolutely. He seemed a bit slow on the uptake, but a brilliant lad in his own way. A strategist he wasn't, but it was well made up for in his skills of a warrior.
The second Warden, the newest addition apparently, had more of the cutting edge that Alistair sorely lacked, but also less of the humane social graces one needed to move flawlessly through a crowd. She supposed the fact that Lyra Mahariel was Dalish had something to do with that. The young girl had a slight something off about her, and Flemeth knew this the moment she laid eyes on the girl. Mistrustful of humans as Lyra was, these next coming months were going to be interesting for the small group.
It may even be more interesting than it would be for Flemeth herself, stopping just shy of calling to Morrigan for a bundle of elfroots. Oh, but she was getting old, and her joints were no more aware of the fact than she.
A chance look up to the sky as she rose proved to find an interesting sight... what looked to be a ball of light- and a gods awful noise she could hear from where she was standing- was falling further and further from the sky, disappearing into the distant tree line within a minute's passing.
And here, she sagely thought to herself, is the newest arrival of their party.
(1) Master Orolith!
(2) Girl (of air), why do you help her escape?
AN: Alright, we made it to Thedas, woot woot! And I have a few updates for you:
1.) Sadly, for me, this'll be the last time for a long while that I'll get to play around with this wonderful language o' mine, but that doesn't mean I'm particularly sad about it. I'm sure I'll still be messing around with it on my own time. xD
2.) I has a deviantart picture of what I envision Q'ara's arm to look like, yay! http:/ frizzle- me- timbers. deviantart. com/ art/ Cyborg- Drawing- 304404233 And in case you're wondering, yes, that's my account. xD Very humble beginnings!
3.) http:/ www. youtube. com/ watch? v=wpjm ATbb0h8 &feature= plcp Simply add one to the end.