Runaway dragon – Chapter 11

The turn for the worse rolled in ahead of them faster than Eyren had imagined. She had an inkling this circumstance of theirs wouldn’t be a smooth affair in the long run, and multiple obstacles ran the risk of bumping into them, which she was toiling to circumvent. In the end, none of her predictions fully came to fruition in the manner she’d hoped, and to be tied up this close to the exit is…an almost last-minute hurdle, one she would’ve advocated for facing earlier. Then it’d be no more than a last run through hordes of guards, whom they could’ve used to slow down pursuers anyway. That it would be a clutch of these Khorente Imar which outwitted them wasn’t really on her agenda.

With the leader positioned in the frontal row of his comrades, he scans the setup of the two women and the raptor, and how they’ve surrounded their prey. And in this composition, Eyren can very well accede that they are in fact quarry.
“You did pretty well over in that inn, didn’t ya?”, he notes.

The natural Ahterilonan tone to his tongue is one that drives Eyren to trust that he’s not actually praising her. And why would he? They’re clearly enemies. Or maybe ‘rivals’ is a better astute profile.
“Wasn’t aware it was the blood snakes we’d taken on. Kind of a walkaway.”

“Hmph”, he spurts and his eyes compact a little. “Those guys mostly weren’t us. We’d linked up with a few other mercs that were in town, in order to simplify the search. You were meant to be another one of ’em.”

“Which you intended to get rid of, I assume?”

He shrugs casually.
“Hadn’t made my mind up yet. Suppose it doesn’t really matter, does it? You and our lil’ game here signed the death warrant for several of ’em, and the rest scattered. But now that me and the boys are rallied in one place, the methods and goals are far clearer. And we’re not really gonna be honoring any codes of niceties anymore.” He lays his hand down over the hilt of his blade by the belt. “So, I’m giving you one chance to not start a riot here. Hand over the prize, and we’ll let you go.”

Eyren pauses here for just a moment and calculates where they’re stood in this renewed motion. That they’re surrounded is a pretty clear-cut aspect to take into consideration, of course, and she doesn’t exactly fancy having to fight people who outnumber her at this range, nor the aptitude they likely command. She doesn’t doubt that fighting ten to one in any stage would be a lethal matchup which she’d do everything to avoid, but being trapped in this byroad, along with the numbers and the fact that these are refined mercenaries…well, she can’t conceive of a worse scenario than that at the top of her head.

“And how can we believe that? You’re saying the Khorente Imar would just release someone who’s offended them? Doesn’t really line up with your reputation.”

The head of the crew chuckles joylessly.
“Got that right, from one point of view. But you know who we are, and you’ve definitely demonstrated you’re no pushover. I’m not a dumbass. Realize that you could cause some harm whether we put you down in the end or not. So, how ’bout we save us both some trouble, and make this easier? Hand over the target, so I won’t have to lose any men to you and you won’t have to lose your life. Or that lizard pal o’ yours, which we’d roast for dinner tonight.”

Razz expires a hiss at that, since she’s perpetually intelligent enough to comprehend a certain measure of human speech. Taking a glimpse at the opposing end of the street, Eyren furthermore counts how not only are they hemmed in here, but Osvij is being confronted as well by a quartet of rugged types. It would appear these snakes came well-prepared.
Eyren shifts at her comrade, and since she must’ve spotted it in the corner of her sight, Nivra swivels to her as well. She’s hesitant right now, possibly even frightened. Eyren can distinguish that from the light quiver of her lips and the curl of her tail. Staring intently into that vision, Eyren wishes this conveys the right emotions…just prior to advancing on Nivra and seizing her wrists.

Unable to get away from it in time, Nivra’s eyes widen.
“Wha-…what are you doing?!”

Capturing the wrists with one set of fingers, Eyren slips behind Nivra and grasps one of horns with the other, meeting the regard of the squad leader.
“Fine. I know when I’m bested. She’ll all yours.”

Nivra gasps and for an instant, she tries to rip herself loose, but Eyren has her in a sincerely awkward position.
“A…are you freaking serious?!”

The leader of the team takes this behavior in and lays a hand over his hip.
“That was quick, wasn’t it?”

Eyren snorts and narrows her eyes.
“Maybe, but like you, I’m no idiot. I just met this lady. Not going to give up my life for her, sanynge.”

Seemingly not reacting to the term, he rolls his hand.
“Fine by me. Let’s make a trade, then. You and your pet’s life for hers.”

Agreeing to notion, Eyren approaches with Nivra, who intends to strain against it.
“Are you really going with this?! All that you said before, was it…was it just a Shades-damned lie?!”

Eyren shrugs.
“Your cause isn’t worth my life. Sorry, lady.”

“Heh”, goes the leader. “You got smarts, if nothing else. Not that we intend to provide any payment for you. Be happy with what you get.”

Eyren sighs when they tug Nivra out of her hands.
“Impercesms won’t get me out of here alive, I know that. You won this one, I’ll own up to it.”

“Right again, northerner.”

When the mercs from posterior positions advance to their comrades, Razz hisses at them, but Eyren turns on her heel and gestures with a hand.
“Razz, stay”, she goes and the raptor peeks into her eyes, seeing the gravity which lingers within and takes a step back.

Upon snatching Nivra from her, they tie up the rebel’s wrists and arrange a leather bag to drag over her head. She does struggle in order to get free, but with such an abundance of individuals around her, she stands little chance of getting out of their hold. She aims one last disappointed face at Eyren, but the ex-knight in return only keeps a straight face.
Simultaneously walking past her, the blood snakes which had been positioned on the other end bump into her shoulder, but speak nothing and just grunt. Eyren doesn’t do much beyond sighing at this gesture.

Razz soon trails from her spot up to Eyren and nudges her head into the human’s shoulder, whining in disappointment. Eyren leaves a hand to stroke the raptor’s muzzle, and she whispers to her.
“No, girl. Be ready to dash for it.” Glimpsing the look from Eyren’s sky-blues, comprehension then floods the reptilian eyes of Razz, as they slit.
Momentarily, with the separation increasing between the duo and the mercs, Eyren rotates at the gates and speaks up in rather broken Nswarha.
“Jingtanya warriors are in the city! Kidnapping people!”

A couple of the Khorente Imar members peer over their shoulders, likely questioning what that was about, but they don’t appear to be schooled in the tongue itself. Some of those who do react, on the other hand, are the sentries posted by the gates, who approach and speak up in Ahteron.
“What’s going on here? What was that someone said about Jingtanya?”

In the midst of these guards inspecting them, the mercs are impelled to pause and several of them layer fingers over their weapons. Conversely, Eyren peers over the street to the far end and links her gaze with Osvij’s, and nods at him. Reciprocating the gesture, and with the mercs who harassed him having left his side, the archer bases his feet by a wall, equips his bow and takes aim at the guards. In seconds, one of the local guards get struck in a shoulder, groaning as he stumbles to the ground. Just as predicted, chaos erupts, with the whole force dragging out their weaponry and calling for arrests.

Even if they don’t follow the exact sequence of events, in reaction to this, the Khorente Imar elects to disconnect their roles a speck: some of them stick around to defend against the onrushing guards, while the others with the leader at the fore pursue an exit of the region. Eyren notes this act and takes off into the alleys again, with Razz behind her.
Prior to any of them being able to attain their target, when the mercs speed past a couple of alleys, local bounty hunters hop out and ambush them, where one with a curved blade in his hand slips in behind the man clutching Nivra and cuts him down. They’re trying to take advantage of the strife as well, it would seem.

Eyren decrypts forthwith how this came to be, but as she doesn’t plan to let it come along uninterrupted, she simulates this hunter’s maneuver by pouncing on him as well. He barely nails more than netting Nivra’s wrists ahead of Eyren’s blade sinking down over his back, leaving him in a bloody pool on the gravel when she kicks him away. Ensuring that her space is free, she pulls Nivra back, cuts the fetters over her wrists apart and removes the bag. Stuttering, Nivra’s hazel-greys clashes with Eyren’s ocean blues, and she issues a relieved exhalation.
“…you almost had me there for a moment, y’know.”

Eyren smiles crookedly.
“Did I seem that despicable to you?”

“…I said almost!”

Surveying the landscape, Eyren sees where Nivra’s glaive has fallen and makes headway in order for the Ahterilonan to fetch it. Shortly thereafter, they end up orienting themselves back to back, to fight off exterior assaults from the occasional bounty hunter or merc that seek to take another essay at grabbing her, and Eyren gets another illustration at how talented Nivra really is in combat. She doesn’t challenge her own earlier actions, whether the deception was vital or not, for she does set store by that it was wise, but Nivra is honestly not a softie. Spinning her glaive to parry two sideways attacks and following it up with a backflip in order to kick one in the face and slash down at the second, Eyren does wonder if they could’ve given the defense against the whole crew a try.

One factor where she might be below standard, on the other hand, is battlefield awareness. From behind Nivra, Eyren remarks how the squad leader of the Khorente Imar group is zigzagging past opponents up to her, like a snake slithering in tall grass. With his scimitar in hand, Eyren recognizes what his goal is, and it would seem he’s no longer as intent on the ‘alive’ part of the bounty. On the bright side, Eyren’s reflexes are better, and exactly on the instant where the blade accelerates at Nivra’s posterior, Eyren’s shield is there to knock it rearward.

Gritting his teeth, he glares up into her eyes, being a couple of centimeters short of her.
“You…”, he hisses.

Eyren flares her nostrils.
“Me“, she agrees. Taking advantage of his descended safeguard, she slaps her shield on his nose, making him stagger.

The resultant duel between the two doesn’t turn out to be a lingering affair either. Although he puts up an explosive fight, presenting a wild and speedy flurry of attacks against her, they’re fairly sloppy and imprecise, the mark of a regular freelancer who has learnt by improvising in real combat. For a well-trained killer of Eyren’s caliber, it’s pretty easy to expose his weaknesses, by feinting or wearing him down with minor cuts along the limbs. And in due course, she gets the result she’s after by disarming him and delivering a sweeping cut over his leg, making him stumble to his knees.

Sitting on his own knees and spitting up a portion of blood, he glares a storm at her from the ground.
“You…northern cunt”, he grunts. “You won’t get away with this, hope you have that figured out.”

Rolling her sword’s hilt around in her grip, Eyren looks none too bothered.
“Maybe not, but honestly, it won’t be eastern no-names who’ll take me out.” This is the final message he catches, before Eyren aims her boot up and kicks him in the face, stunning him unconscious.

In seconds, Eyren whistles to get Razz’s attention, who had launched into another pair of the mercs in Nivra’s vicinity, where both the raptor and the rebel career up to her.
“Are we getting out?”

“Yep, let’s make a break for it. It’s now or never.”

Nodding, Nivra approaches Razz’s side and Eyren lets her rise to the raptor’s back first, ahead of sliding in behind her. Sensing that she has them, Razz doesn’t hold and streams past the fracas which transpires in the center of the road, steering straight for the exit which is presently unguarded. In the same stretch, they note how Osvij is in the region already, and seeing that they’re coming at him, he calls his raptor over and rides out with them. Being that the event afforded them a fabulously grander opening than they had previsioned and no one has even moderately fielded a pursuit so far, they make the swap between them earlier than warranted, pausing by a couple of bushes around two kilometers out.

Reaching out his hand, Osvij smiles and shakes hers.
“Before we split up, I must say it was an honor to work with you, pranti Eyren. If the Shades are good, we shall have a renewed chance for it in time.”

Eyren returns the gesture and nods.
“Agreed. I’m glad to know there are people like you out here.”

Nivra has treaded up to Osvij, but preceding an ascending to the raptor with him, she lingers for a second, looking at Eyren with conflicted emotions.
“That thing you said to the snakes earlier…was that an insult?”

Arching an eyebrow, Eyren doesn’t initially follow, until she chortles.
“Ah, ‘sanynga’? Of a sort, I suppose. Eh, just felt inclined to certify that my maneuver would fall into place. So yeah, I insulted him to his face.”

“What does it mean?”

“Mm…’lawless crook’, more or less.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Heh, well, in my native tongue, Foerngu-en, it has a harsher meaning. As if the recipient lacks morals and pedigree. In Umesan, it would’ve started a brawl, and if he’d understood the verbal slap, he’d have suspected I was playing him. He didn’t.”

Nivra scratches her cheek and giggles slightly.
“Ah, I see. Guess I have plenty to learn ’bout your people as well, then.” Moments latterly, another serious air comes over her. “Thank you, Eyren. For everything. Never would’ve figured a stranger with no ties to anything would’ve gambled like this for me, but…you’ve altered how I imagine the world. But, I-…will we ever see each other again?”

The comment nigh-on carries a longing or regretful tone to it, one that Eyren hadn’t really anticipated she’d receive from anyone she’s been familiarized with for this level of short period. Then again, isn’t it always the case that risking life and limb brings people together? With a smile, she shrugs and rubs Razz’s nose which pushes into her shoulder.
“Why not? Nothing is impossible, is it? Fate never was predictable.”