She woke up to the sight of a ugly mass wielding what looked like a medieval sword of some kind charging at her. Her tolerance of unknown ugly bastards, especially ones charging at her had never been high and the Reaper War had only reduced that tolerance. An unfortunate fact that brokered no good for the one charging, as this particular mass found out.
She brought up her hand, ignoring the pain screaming at her mind and fired off a biotic spear at the mass. The concentrated mass of dark energy impaled itself upon the mass, warping flesh and metal in an agonising hell of pain as it threw the mass nearly a dozen metre back.
The scream of agony uttered by the mass before the shockwave imploding into its flesh killed it gave way to the roar of dozens of his compatriots and Shepard realised she was in deep shit.
Every N7 operative, of which she had been one of the foremost members before her falling out with the Alliance Military, had been trained to discern their condition within seconds of returning to consciousness. Add in the special training she received from numerous sources during her years representing humanity as a Special Tactics and Reconnaissance (Spectre) operative, she was pretty much the adept at such actions.
Which didn't exactly reassure her at the moment. She was injured in several places, including at least a broken rib and her mind was in shambles from the repeated indoctrination attacks by Harbinger. The fact that she wasn't dead even after taking a near direct hit from Harbinger's MHD was a testament to her luck and her armour, which was half broken, the ablative coating gone.
Still, she wasn't exactly in a position to do any checks. Not before taking care of her current foes. Thankfully, her modified L7X biotic amps, courtesy of her salarian friend and genius Dr. Mordin Solus was functioning and these foes weren't biotic proof.
With a clenched fist, she brought up her biotic energy and released it in a vicious trio of spears towards the charge, as she sprung herself up from the ground.
With her other arm, she brought up her omni tool, pleased to see the Krogan manufactured tool intact and active and brought up her shield program. A bright convex shield of omni gel and nanite suspended in a mass effect energy field formed around her hand just as the spears found its mark.
Three more mass, she termed them uglies in her mind, fell to the eldritch attacks, only to be replaced by others.
A thwacking sound from beyond the mass of what her mind could only term as marauders without guns, picked up by her enhanced hearing (thanks Cerberus!) made her raise her shield up and the small streaks striking and bouncing off the shield made her glad of her action.
She would have fired off another volley of biotic spears if not for the pounding in her head which made it apparent that she would regret such a course of action almost immediately.
So she did the next best thing in her mind. She stepped forward and violently swung her shield at the next charging mass with all the force she could muster. The shield slammed into the not-marauder, sending him flying back into their compatriots behind, throwing them down as well.
Breathing space found, she dropped the shield and went to work. Four Cluster Overloads in rapid succession streaked out from her omni, striking into the vaulting frames of the not-marauders charging over the bodies of their fallen comrades.
The field of lighting held suspended in mass effect field brought into contact with conductive material went to town. Several lighting bolts sprang from body to body, inflicting thousands of volts of electric current into them, overloading organs and nerves into a frenzy of agony. Half her foes fell, some dead and others wounded.
She didn't stop. With another flick gesture of her omni, she sent four carnage at the ones behind, then brought her shield back up to deflect the arrows streaking at her.
The rest of the not-marauders were quickly put down by the carnage, the highly compressed bolts of plasma splashing through the rest of them, rendering them either dead(read:vaporised) or screaming masses of burning flesh.
A drone took care of the rest of them, the neural shock attacks of it quite lethal, and she slumped to the ground, too tired to pay attention to the craven that flew away from it's vantage point from the trees at the edge of the clearing.
1
Night had fallen and with it came the chill of the dusk. Shepard sat on the hardened ground within her shelter, taking stock for the last time before she went to bed. After she had recovered from the immediate fatigue of the battle, she had searched the area for whatever she could recover, making a pile of them. Then she had gone on to build a survival hut( N7 regulation compliant), her omni blade making short work of the nearby trees. She had also collected enough water and edible berries to get her through the night.
In front of her were all the things she had recovered as well as those things which were on her person. Among these were her custom made M99A Sabre Battle Rifle, albeit with a damaged heat sink, both her M77 Paladin heavy pistols, and her M12 Locust submachine gun, several omni gel canisters, backup omni tools, medi-gel canisters, and most fortunately, an emergency supplies canister containing enough sealed provisions to last days. Not that all this made her situation any easier.
She was low on thermal clips, only several of them being full and a half spent one in her Locust, she had injuries that required much better attention than a medi-gel canister and field dressing could take care and worse of all, her armour had suffered significant damage.
The heavy duty plating had shattered from the near hit by the MHD, the ablative plating completely gone. Several of the servos were damaged and her helmet was gone. Which meant she'd have to depend upon her omni tool for communications and navigation, instead of the dedicated holographic smart display with built in high function VI.
Currently she was in her undersuit, her armour standing locked in front of her. Beside her on the ground was her M12 Locust, one of two of her only functioning firearm. She had been forced to cannibalize parts from her M77s to replace the damaged components on her Sabre, the precision rifle's range and accuracy triumphing the stopping power of both her pistols. If she was indeed stuck in some primitive world, as all evidence, including a field autopsy of one of the not-marauders she'd killed suggested, she liked the idea of having the range advantage. She was experienced with charge and melee tactics, being a favourite of the basic Reaper husk, and she had found being out of range with a powerful rifle was the best way to counter such attacks.
She started patching up her armour, generous amounts of omni gel, and components fixing the gaps and gashes in her chestplate, then on the back armour, the shoulders, arms and legs. She had already repaired the damaged servos with components from her armour's emergency storage, which was still intact.
A round of howls, hundreds of them, and the sound of drums stopped her work. She immediately donned her armour, the CBT shields activating as soon as the Silaris armour was locked on and the pressure and environmental seals activated.
She stored the rest of her supplies, attaching the emergency canister to the back of her armour, the mag clamps locking it in place. Then placing the Locust in the weapons clamp, she picked up her Sabre and headed out, kicking the shelter down with her enhanced strength.
2
A fast paced silent jog found her staring at an odd sight five minutes after. What looked like a group of dwarf men and a child( which he couldn't be considering the lines she saw through the optic of her Sabre), and an old man with a staff were on the trees, surrounded by giant wolves and what looked like bigger versions of the not-marauders. They were preparing to light the trees on fire.
She couldn't let that happen, the ones on the trees might be her only source of answer as to which godforsaken planet, if this was indeed a planet, in the universe she was stuck in.
She switched to warp ammo and sighted in the biggest of the not marauders, the one sitting on a giant ass wolf and barking something in a language her translators couldn't identify.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she fired.
Gandalf was most perplexed by the appearance of Azog the defiler, contrary to his earlier statement to Thorin Oakenshield. The Valar had given no sign that such a foe was rallied against the expedition.
He was about to prepare some magic, when lo! A loud bang rang out and Azog fell! His head shattered by something, something which to him, Mithrandir, felt like magic but not magic. Perplexing indeed.
Two more bangs and two more goblins fell, Azog's lieutenants.
Then Thorin Oakenshield charged down, his elvish blade cleaving through Azog's mount and the goblin next to it in one mighty stroke. Spurred by his action, the rest of the company attacked too. Axes chopped, swords cleaved and arrows and stones found eyes and jaws to break. Not to be outdone, Gandalf jumped down, slamming his staff down to the ground. Brilliant light, white as the moon and imbued with the secret fire, burst out, impaling the goblins with its rays. The nearest ones to the light shrieked cries of agony as the pure light set their foul flesh on fire, while the ones further back shrieked away. Then wielding staff and sword, he waded into the melee, knocking and stabbing his foes.
Quickly they would have made short work of their foes but the remaining goblin, Azog's third and least favourite, rallied them with his battle cry, driving the wolves into the dwarves and goblins around them. He didn't forget the mysterious attacker too. A band of the biggest and toughest of his subordinates broke off, their wolves galloping them towards the direction from which the attacks came.
Shepard looked through the scope, sighting in on the runners or flankers, as her old Sergeant would say. She squeezed the trigger as soon as the crosshair lined up and shifted target, barely wincing as the suit pumped in several syringes worth of stimulants. Those special cocktails, courtesy of N7 had special enhancers and nutrients that overcharged the body, essentially giving the operative 120% of effectiveness. It also came with a massive headache afterwards. Several massive headaches for her.
Three more shots and she was out. By then, they were too close to use a precision rifle anyway. She replaced the Sabre in its clamp and took out the Locust. She favoured this SMG for its almost assault rifle scale range and stopping power. Plus the 4 sights pretty much ensured headshots.
Bracing it against a tree branch, she let loose in rapid three round bursts. The inferno rounds, nano-thermitic projectiles encased in high density mass effect field(making it effective in zero gravity as well) burned through as soon as it impacted, turning the charge into a rout.
She switched mods, putting in a standard incendiary ammo mod, and moved forward, bringing up her biotics to form a barrier around her as she simply walk fired towards the fleeing uglies.
Gandalf frowned as the vague shape appeared over the horizon, attacking the fleeing goblins with abandon. Quickly it attacked and quickly they all fell, one by one. Then it approached them and his eyebrows rose so high that they looked as if they would fall down.
She was, he could see, not of this land. In fact, he couldn't hope to find her and her strange garb. Her attire had a strange sheen to it and he could hear the gulp of the younger dwarves with their blood in heat, staring at her figure. Her garb attuned her figure and beauty, and had he not been Gandalf, even he would have stared .
He of course, being the Mai he was, did no such thing. Instead, he stared at her with his piercing eyes, getting her measure. He could see she was a formidable warrior, even with the injuries she was hiding, and her magic made her even more so. He could also see the damaged sections of her armor and the way she held herself. She was locked in the warrior's way, her heart set in fighting or fleeing if they turned wrong. Fighting, from the looks of her eyes, and her grip on what he assumed was a crossbow of some unknown type. It certainly wasn't a sword.
While Gandalf the wizard was sizing her up, so was she. Now closer, she could see the sword and other weapons (no pistols or firearms, to her disappointment) the blood from the fallen uglies sprayed over their clothes. She'd already concluded none of the short men, even the shortest were children. That only left one answer. They were dwarves, the shortest possibly being a subspecies.
She'd also seen him light the uglies up with his staff. She couldn't keep her disappointment down when all her scans found no trace of technology and a sigh emerged from her lips, settling into the space between them like a heavy weight.
3
Gandalf wasn't the first to break the silence. It was a wooly feeted hobbit who went up to the strange lady.
Shepard looked at the person approaching her, roughly the size of a volus. He was wearing old fashioned breeches,and waistcoat, something straight out of a museum. Hanging from a belt was a short sword in a scabbard and she could see the tip of a handkerchief sticking out of his breast pocket.
As for the small man himself, he was short, her optics told her the exact size- 3.45''. She noticed he wore no shoes, his feet instead being covered by thick hair. His face was warm, his eyes a warm brown, a kind face broken by the frowns lining his face and the blood on his clothes.
Bilbo bowed and thanked her in Sindarin and she noticed his pointed broad ears, almost like a fairy tale elves, but not quite. She frowned at the language, it sounded beautiful but her translator came up short again.
Seeing her look of surprise, Gandalf stepped forward.
"Bilbo, she does not understand. Let me try"
He then addressed the lady in all the languages of the fair people, including the Common Tongue, all to no avail. It seemed she truly was a foreigner.
The roar of the goblins made him turn towards the new foes. It seemed the foul creatures were set upon the thought of avenging their king. The taste of juicy dwarven flesh must be driving them equally, he thought to himself.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the foreign lady turn her weapon towards the sound, her stance widening only a bit, and from a few feet away, he could feel her body tense, ready to pounce upon on any threat and after her display in the previous moments, he had no illusions about her ability to do just that.
A mass of goblins, hundreds, maybe thousands charged alongside an equal number of wargs and he, Gandalf that he was, felt the inkling of despair.
Shepard gritted her teeth at the sight. It seemed the uglies nest had been kicked by the group she had approached and now the uglies were screaming murder, coming for them and by association, for her.
She linked the scope to her synaptic processors and aimed for the ones in the front, only to be interrupted by eagle cries.
Looking up, she found the sky filled with eagles and eagles of a size that should not exist. They were practically ginormous. Her optics gave her a wingspan of nearly 12 meters and that was for the smaller ones.
Following them with her eyes, she saw them swoop down and tear into the goblins, their speed and eagle sharp claws tearing into dozens of goblins at once.
Then she found herself floating and realised she had been picked up by an eagle, it's claws holding her tight.
Up and up they went, in spiralling circles and she saw eagles going after the stragglers down below. Then they were close to the clouds and she looked up and around. She was not happy.
There were towering mountains and rivers and even a few settlements but no signs of industry and with it, no sign of her way out of this planet. No way for her back to her home or what's left of it.
4
Shepard glared at the large feather bug, apparently someone important to the eagles and friend to the staff wielding oldie as it looked down upon her with an intense stare. Usually, when a person finds themselves under the gaze of the mighty eagle king, they are intimidated. The king eagle was older than the oldest man alive and wise beyond years. He was Power embodied, and not just in his physicality. Nay, those wiser could sense the power within. She however had stared down beings far older and powerful, if not however.
After a moment the bird looked away, and spoke in his eagle voice to the oldie and she could somehow feel the amusement role off his voice. The old man replied something and they went back and forth for a minute or two.
Next thing she knew, she was taken by yet another eagle alongside the rest of the company and she were deposited on a crag alongside rabbits and small hogs hunted by the eagles.
She sat down on one side of the crag, away from the others and unclamped the canister from her back. Setting it down, she unlocked it and looked inside.
The canister had Emergency rations and MREs, fortunately for levo species. She took a pack of salted pork MRE, and shut the canister, putting it away on one side. Then she broke the seal of the cook tube. The meal was heated up to normal temperature within seconds. She opened the top seal. The whiff of pork and rice made her stomach grumble and her mouth water and she realised she was ravenous.
Not bothering for a fork, she dug in with gusto, eating it with her hand.
She didn't look up until she felt the figure standing before her. Looking up, she found the old man standing in front of her(her mind refused to acknowledge the word wizard). He gestured to a place beside her and she shrugged.
Gandalf sat down beside the lady he couldn't speak to. He was not the Mair to deal with the mind. That was the realm of the blue Wizards and Saruman, the head of the Istari. Instead he merely offered her a spare pipe filled with weed, something to ease the pain his sharp eyes could see she felt.
She took the pipe, lit it with the offered brand and took a long drag, letting it out slowly. During the war, she'd found weed, produced in the orbital cities of Earth, and brought to the Citadel by fleeing refugees had helped her maintain her calm and deal with the constant headaches from stim withdrawals after particularly intense missions without going to Dr Chakwas. So without any shame, she'd used her Spectre status to legalise the sale of weed(which was previously a banned item in the Citadel itself) and earned herself free bonus packages of the best quality weed from the sellers.
Which was really fortunate. Considering she was in a world without advanced medicine or industry, meaning no replenishment once her current stock of medicine is depleted, she would have to rely more on weed and herbs, alternative medicine for the more mundane injuries and keep the good stuff for emergencies.
Before she realised, she was asleep, her suit having pumped in a mild sedative to nudge her tired body.
5
The pain woke her up. The medi gel and looking at the chronometer, the eight hours of sleep had done her good but broken ribs were a different matter.
So she settled for the alternative. Using her omni tool's scanner, she found the breaks. Then she released the armor, stepping away from it and set to work setting them with her biotics.
'This is going to hurt', she thought to herself and it did. The first one nearly tore out a cry as the biotic equivalent of a mild nudge put the rib in its original position in totality. The second and third followed immediately and Shepard fell to the ground, sweat pouring down her body as the pain reached an unbearable point.
Getting up she found them staring at her and shook her head..she was in no mood to listen to more gibberish. Quickly she got into her armour, and hissed a sigh of relief as the suit pumped meds into her, including a pain killer.
Not too soon too, as the eagles arrived to take them to the next leg of the journey, Shepard now officially part of their company. Unawares to her, Gandalf and Thorin had a falling out over her, with the kin of Durin reluctant to take her upon, even while acknowledging her prowess. In the end, Gandalf had made himself responsible for her, for her duration of the travel.
What Shepard was aware was that her translation softwares were working overtime, compiling words and using visual cues from her optical sensors to determine their meaning and thus translate the language. Hopefully, soon she'd be able to ask some questions.
6
The Eagles dropped them on top of a crag which looked over the surrounding area. There were a few stepping stones cut into the rock on which they seemed to be standing.
More conversation followed among the rest of the company, which merely sounded like gibberish, her translation software still unable to formulate a complete translation. So she didn't listen. Instead, gritting her teeth in frustration, she took note of the surrounding area, her sensors at their full.
The surrounding forest were teeming with life and of unusual sizes too. There were everything from giant trees to big bees of truly great size to predators of every kind, though aside from the bees, the rest were noticeably at a distance.
The nearest source of life was the river, which was teeming with fishes and fresh water. Without ado, she stepped into the water, away from where the rest of the company were watering and bathing.
The water cooled the outside of the power armor while at the same time, the suit's emergency water supply was replenished, the small scale water pack built into the suit having its own purifiers and nutrient mix.
After the suit was done, she went back to the shore and waited for the others.
Soon enough at a signal for the wizard, a title for the old man that her brain seemed to be adamant about using, they proceeded, first across the river, the smallest of them, the one who had come up to her, being piggybacked by another, then through long green grass and down the lines of the wide- armed oaks and tall elms.
From the gestures made by the rest of the company, Shepard could hazard that their destination might not be safe as well. Good thing she'd popped in a new thermal clip in her Locust.
They continued walking, up slope and down dales and through more forest. Sometimes they would rest and the rest of the company would eat. Her suit kept pumping nutrients at regular intervals, so it would be a while before she needed to eat, though not a long while.
It was the middle of the afternoon before they noticed that great patches of flowers had begun to spring up, all the same kinds growing together as if they had been planted. Especiallythere was clover, waving patches of cockscombclover, and purple clover, and wide stretches of short white sweet honey-smelling clover. There Was a buzzing and a whirring and a droning in the air. Bees were busy everywhere.
The Bees were giant, as her sensors had told them.
They were bigger than hornets. The drones were bigger than your thumb, a good deal, and the bands of yellow on their deep black bodies shone like fiery gold.
After a while they came to a belt of tall and very ancient oaks, and beyond these to a high thorn-hedge through which you could neither see nor scramble.
Next followed a peculiar episode indeed.
Gandalf took the lady and the hobbit along with him, after asking the rest to wait. Perhaps the presence of a lady would soften Beorn a little more.
They went off along the hedge, and seeing he was frightened, Shepard placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder until he was calm, walking with her knees slightly bent.
They soon came to a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which they could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings,some thatched and made of unshaped logs:barns, stables, sheds, and a long low wooden house. Inside on the southward side of the greathedge were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled all the air.
They pushed open the heavy creaking gate and went down a wide track towards the house. Some horses, very sleek and well-groomed, trotted up across the grass and looked at them intently with very intelligent faces; then off they galloped to the buildings.
"They have gone to tell him of the arrival of strangers," said Gandalf to Bilbo.
Soon they reached a courtyard, three walls of which were formed by the wooden house and its two long wings. In the middle there was lyinga great oak-trunk with many lopped branches
beside it. Standing near was a huge man with a thick black beard and hair, and great bare arms and legs with knotted muscles. He was clothed in a tunic of wool down to his knees, and was leaning on a large axe. The horses were standing by him with their noses at his shoulder.
"Ugh! here they are!" he said to the horses."They don't look dangerous. You can be off!" Helaughed a great rolling laugh, put down his axe and came forward.
"Who are you and what do you want?" he asked gruffly, standing in front of them and towering tall above Gandalf. As for Bilbo he could easily have trotted through his legs without ducking his head to miss the fringe of the man's brown tunic.
"I am Gandalf," said the wizard.
"Never heard of him," growled the man."And what's this little fellow?" he said, stooping down to frown at the hobbit with his bushy blackeyebrows.
"That is Mr. Baggins, a hobbit of good family and unimpeachable reputation," saidGandalf. Bilbo bowed. He had no hat to takeoff, and was painfully conscious of his many missing buttons.
Then the man stopped before her.
"And the Lady?" He asked Gandalf, never once wavering his haze from her.
"Alas, of her i can provide no account, except that of our rescuer and friend in need"
At that Beorn looked at Gandalf, then back at her..
Shepard was getting anxious. The big man and the wizard kept talking, and now the man was staring at her.
She stared right back, holding his gaze, which grew unnerving the longer she stared into it. Soon every senses in her body were centered on holding it and she felt as if she would have to break off.
Only for him, at last, to break off with a laugh.
"She is a true warrior. You did well to bring her." Gandalf, caught off guard, merely nodded in agreement.
"Well, now I know who you are, or who you say you are. What do you want?"
"To tell you the truth, we have lost our luggage and nearly lost our way, and are rather in need of help, or at least of advice. I may say we have had rather a bad time with goblins in the mountains."
"Goblins?" said the big man less gruffly. "Oho, so you've been having trouble with them have you? What did you go near them for?"
"We did not mean to. They surprised us at night in a pass which we had to cross; we were coming out of the Lands over West into these countries—it is a long tale."
"Then you had better come inside and tell me some of it, if it won't take all day," said the man leading the way through a dark door that opens out of the courtyard into the house.
Following him they found themselves in a wide hall with a fire-place in the middle. Though It was summer there was a wood-fire burning in the smoke was rising to the blackenedrafters in search of the way out through an opening in the roof. They passed through this dim hall, lit only by the fire and the hole above it,and came through another smaller door into a sort of veranda propped on wooden posts made of single tree-trunks. It faced south and was still warm and filled with the light of the westering sun which slanted into it, and fell golden on the garden full of flowers that came right up to the steps.
There they sat and Gandalf started telling the story, interrupted bit by bit by the arrival of the rest of the company. By the end of it, Shepard was laughing at the antics of Gandalf and the rest, all the while their conversation got even more data for her translators.
By the time the wizard had finished his tale and had told of the eagles' rescue and of how they had all been brought to the Carrock, thesun had fallen behind the peaks of the MistyMountains and the shadows were long inBeorn's garden.
"A very good tale!" said he. "The best I have heard for a long while. If all beggars could tell such a good one, they might find me kinder.You may be making it all up, of course, but you deserve a supper for the story all the same.Let's have something to eat!"
"Yes please!" they all said together. "Thank You very much!"
Inside the hall it was now quite dark. Beorn Clapped his hands, and in trotted four beautiful
white ponies and several large long-bodied grey dogs. Beorn said something to them in a queer language like animal noises turned into talk. They went out again and soon came back carrying torches in their mouths, which they lit at the fire and stuck in low brackets on the pillars of the hall about the central hearth.
The dogs could stand on their hind-legs when they wished, and carry things with their fore-feet.Quickly they got out boards and trestles from the side walls and set them up near the fire.
Then baa—baa—baa! was heard, and in came some snow-white sheep led by a largecoal-black ram. One bore a white cloth embroidered at the edges with figures of animals; others bore on their broad backs trays with bowls and platters and knives and wooden spoons, which the dogs took and quickly laid on the trestle-tables. These were very low, low enough even for Bilbo to sit at comfortably.Beside them a pony pushed two low-seated benches with wide rush-bottoms and little short thick legs for Gandalf and Thorin, while at the far end he put Beorn's big black chair of the same sort (in which he sat with his great legs stuck far out under the table). These were all the chairs he had in his hall, and he probably had them low like the tables for the convenience of the wonderful animals that waited on him. What did the rest sit on? They were not forgotten.
The other ponies came in rolling round drum-shaped sections of logs, smoothed and polished, and low enough even for Bilbo; so soon they were all seated at Beorn's table, and the hall had not seen such a gathering for manya year.
There they had a supper, or a dinner, such as they had not had since they left the Last Homely House in the West and said good-bye to Elrond. The light of the torches and the fire flickered about them, and on the table were two tall red beeswax candles. All the time they ate,Beorn in his deep rolling voice told tales of the wild lands on this side of the mountains, and especially of the dark and dangerous wood,that lay outstretched far to North and South day's ride before them, barring their way to theEast, the terrible forest of Mirkwood.
The dwarves listened and shook their beards, for they knew that they must soon venture into that forest and that after the mountains it was the worst of the perils they had to pass before they came to the dragon's stronghold. When dinner was over they began to tell tales of their own, but Beorn seemed to be growing drowsy and paid little heed to them.They spoke most of gold and silver and jewels and the making of things by smith-craft, and Beorn did not appear to care for such things:there were no things of gold or silver in his hall,and few save the knives were made of metal at all.
They sat long at the table with their wooden drinking-bowls filled with mead. The dark night came on outside. The fires in the middle of the hall were built with fresh logs and the torches were put out, and still they sat in the light of the dancing flames with the pillars of the house standing tall behind them, and dark at the toplike trees of the forest.
Soon after they found themselves in their beds, and Shepard fell asleep, the warm bed and the full belly making her drowsy and comfortable. Her armor beside her bed and locked in, safe from both the curious and the malicious.
7
She was woken up by a soft touch. Her eyes snapping open immediately, she found herself staring at the wizard's face.
He placed a finger on his lips, the universal signal for silence and motioned for her to come with him with his hand.
She got up, careful not to make any sound and quickly got into her armor, the wizard standing a little away with wonder in his eyes.
Her equipment stashed and checked, she followed him out the door and back out through the path and soon they were off, this time on a different direction from where they came in, she noticed.
The path they took was through the woods. All around them, there were signs of life. She could hear the birds up high in the tall elms and oaks and somewhere near, there was water flowing. A butterfly landed on her shoulder one moment and the next, it was flying away, wherever it's whim led it.
She saw the first tracks, her enhanced eyesight easily picking out the impressions on the ground.
With a hand, she stopped the wizard, pointing towards the tracks. He merely gave a nod and motioned towards them, continuing forward in the direction of the tracks in his previous pace.
So now they were following bear tracks. Shepard shook her head and followed, arming a carnage on her omni tool just in case.
Soon, tracks piled upon tracks on even more tracks, until it looked as it every single shade and kind of bear ever present in the wide world were gathering here. The tracks came from everywhere and every direction except west, towards which only one giant set of tracks led, no return treads.
They veered off and started following these tracks. It led them back across trails to the river they had crossed, only at a place where the ford was deep and treacherous, and across there was a tall cliff, standing obstacle. There was no way they were crossing that, she knew. And they didn't.
The wizard veered off, Shepard following, towards farther west, taking up even more wild trails, filled with what felt like to Shepard, was the underbrush of the last century of the woods. Six months was a less fanciful estimate.
They walked some more miles, always by the riverside or close to it, until finally they found their crossing. A place where the river was wide and quite shallow, enough to allow them to cross.
They waded across and tracked back, the path less wild on the other side, to the cliffside and the tracks they were chasing. By that time, the sun was low and the wizard didn't follow on.
The tracks went in the direction of the woods in which Shepard had saved the strange company's life. A fact that didn't reassure her. The wizard merely looked at it quizzically and then gave a brief nod, before turning back, beckoning her with a raised hand.
It was as she was about to follow him that it happened.
Her omni tool lit up with a reading detecting a massive spike in dark energy, the compass pointing towards the distant mountains and she collapsed, head striking the ground as pain like a thousand knives stabbing all together seared into her skull and her vision started blacking out.
Images flashed through her mind.. Thane..Miranda.. Garrus..Torfan.. Citadel.. dying.. waking up.. collectors..harbinger.. catalyst.. dying again..
The feeling of cold wet being splashed on her face brought her back to the present, to a strange land with a strange man looking at her with concern and she felt something break in her, a hope she never realised that she was even carrying until now and tears fell unbidden, wiping away the cold in warm messy pattern and she didn't have the strength to resist when the strange man simply held her against his chest, murmuring a soft almost aching tune in a language old and forgotten, even to this strange land as she sobbed against his against like a lost child in the wilderness.
8
The return was sombre. After her outburst, all she felt was spent and tired beyond measure. She silently smoked the weed pipe the wizard had handed over when she'd collected herself and followed him back through the miles and into the farm.
When they arrived, they were immediately set upon by the rest of the companions. The wizard guided her to the dinner table(it was evening outside). Her stomach growled at the smell of fresh food and she immediately took a platter and piled everything in site and set to work demolishing it, paying no attention to her surroundings except to reach for more food.
After she was done eating, she went straight to bed, leaving a micro forged listening device connected to her omni tool to record the conversation that the wizard and the rest were carrying out. More data for the translators.
The morning after she woke up to the sound of music and loud raucous sounds of celebration coming from the dining hall they had assembled in the last night.
With the brief and efficient movements of a seasoned soldier used to maintaining a certain personal hygiene in almost any condition, she completed her morning ablutions and dressed.
A glance at the watch on her omni tool showed it was actually well past morning, heading towards evening. It also showed all the data from the listening device has been integrated into the translation software database. More Hurray! for miniaturised Quantum-Entanglement Communication tech.
She emerged into the hall to find the rest of the companions eating and making merry with their host in the lead.
Without pausing their celebration, he merely nodded towards an empty seat near him and she didn't decline, hungry as she was starting to become. Seating herself, she quickly piled in food on a plate and set herself to the task of finishing it, leaving the listening device and the translation software to do its job.
After dinner, she went back to her bed, switching on and listening to the recordings from the listening device, trying to decipher something out of it and before she realised, she was asleep.
A Dream.
She found herself in a marvelous dazzling hall.. everything around was a kaleidoscope from the light of three jewels, at the centre of the room.
Around it stood 8 figures, of which all she could perceive was different haloed figures, but something told her there was much more to them.
The next moment she was amidst them, staring at the confluence of light.
Figures rushed by, little men, creatures in the shadow and then staring at her, reaching out, grasping at her, herself. Dark, twisted with indoctrinated eyes and hollow bones, and something beyond. Something old.
We Are The Harbingers of Your Ascendence!
She woke up.
9
She went outside, forgoing her armour for once. Outside the dawn was just breaking through the night and a soft light began to illuminate the splendor of the surroundings. She shivered and not from the cold. She had her hands clenched to stop the shaking and she sucked in deep breaths and slowly let them out. She didn't know how long she did that before the shakes stopped.
She then slowly filled the pipe with the weed filched from the old man and lit it with her omni tool, taking deep drags and letting them out. Soon enough she had smoke curling all around her in the morning dew and she even managed to spin them and create a ring or two.
A light cough made her turn around and she found the old man, his eyes twinkling with humour. Having caught her attention, he gestured towards the hall, the message clear enough.
She nodded, taking a last deep drag and then overturned the pipe, letting all the burnt stuff fall to the ground.
Going inside, she found everyone eating, their packs and everything beside them. It seemed they were leaving. She went inside, got her pack ready and carried to breakfast, sitting herself beside the old man. He had been one of the people in the light in the dream and she wanted to know why. She also had an inkling that sticking to him would get her answers the quickest.
The days following their departure, she spent collecting scans of her surroundings with the omni tool, and intensive recovery training, syncing her body and mind for any challenge that might come her way. She also spent an inordinate time just looking at things, usually with a pipe in her mouth, a habit that was getting more entrenched day by day and she wasn't bothered with it. Her enhancements made sure that none of the ill effects of smoking even had a chance to take hold, and it helped with the still lingering pain and the occasional shakes.
At last they reached the forest and after a lengthy farewell, of which she wasn't a part, she and the wizard turned their ponies to a new direction, wherever they may lead.
10.
She led the horse through the trail, following the wizard. They were on the last leg of their journey to wherever they were getting. Over the past few days, they'd travelled through dangerous territories, slinking around to hide from distant bands of crebain and orcs. It seemed trouble was brewing or had been brewing for a while and was about to explode.
Which was why she had been collecting herbs which scans showed had medicinal properties, and cleaning and recleaning her armor and weapons. In case of serious trouble, her supply of medigel wouldn't last. Nor would there be any time to lavish care upon her gear and herself.
The emergency canister, which she'd refashioned into a makeshift backup in similar fashion to assault packs issued to N7 trainees on survival training, was thus filled with sealed containers of herbs, including two additional containers of weed. She'd also taken a stock of edible berries and other wild food such as she could find.
Shaken from her thoughts by the sound of a running river, she looked up to find they'd arrived at their destination, and what a beautiful sight it was.
At the end of the forest path stood the entrance, below which she could see the wide valley, and dwarfing it all, the home.
It was easily the size of a city, with a simply enormous central building whose sloped roofs and towers reminded her somewhat of Gothic churches. Of course it wasn't Gothic, there was an element of something else there, something which she couldn't quite put a name on. It was as if the valley had a mind entirely of it's own.
They descended carefully, accompanied by the elves, she couldn't think anything else to call pointy eared humanoids who walked as if they were made of air, hiding just beyond her vision, and the cool breeze which seemed to envelope her, easing her stress. The elves appeared to be singing and she listened to their ethereal song till they arrived in front of their greeting party.
Leading the party was an elf of regal manner. His face was ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful. His hair was dark as the shadows of twilight, and upon it was set a circlet of silver; his eyes were grey as a clear evening, and in them was a light like the light of stars. Venerable he seemed as a king crowned with many winters, and yet hale as a tried warrior in the fulness of his strength.
He stepped forward to first greet the wizard and then at a look from him, the elf turned to her and bowed. Taking it as a sign of greeting, she bowed back and then followed as they went inside.
11
The next day, after a long evening of feast followed by a good night's sleep, someone knocked at her door.
Sealing off her armor, she opened the door to find the wizard standing before her, looking quite different. His long hair and beard was brushed and sparkling white, falling over pristine grey robes which flowed around him, falling just short of his sandals.
At his gesture, she followed him through to the house, going upwards till they reached a high arched room, overlooking the rest of the valley.
Stepping inside, she found herself the target of several different gazes. There was the host in golden robes, the greasy looking man in white robes who's gaze reminded her of dear old departed and not much mourned Jack, a beautiful silver haired beauty who made the part of her that dallied with the fair sex salivate, there was the man in brown robes who reminded her of Garrus, the men in blue robes, sitting aloof from the rest. Amidst all these people seated around a simple but beautiful table were two empty seats. She made her way and took a seat, the wizard taking the other.
Then setting her tool to record, she simply looked at them while they discussed whatever it was they were discussing, though judging from the arguments, at least part of it had to do with her. She was in a way used to that.
It was the part that wasn't likely about her that worried her. The tones were grimer, almost as if they were discussing the end of the world.
Judging by my luck, that's exactly what they are discussing.