Cham had spent the last four days climbing down the mountain and fruitlessly searching for any sign that her kid had managed to evade the horde that had surely pursued her. As she walked further and further down the mountain, back tracking her way toward the village her heart grew heavier and heavier as it looked like Rosalyn never made it this far into the hills. On the evening of the fourth day however, she got her first bit of hope. She could feel Rosalyn’s life-force. It was distant and deep underground, but it was steady and calm. Where ever she was hiding was currently safe.
Throwing both arms into the air Cham let out a whoop that startled several birds out of a tree. “Bless you child! I knew you could get away!” Falling to one knee as a tension she wasn’t previously aware of left her, Cham felt hot tears trickle down her face.
Most of the Sisters blessed with Divine power could sense life and death to some degree, most often within a few feet, but Cham was especially good at it. She could operate her sense like few in the Sisterhood before her, and if she really concentrated she could distantly feel an aura she was familiar with for miles.
It was a gift that had saved her life during the war on more than one occasion, as it allowed her to feel both approaching undead and the life auras of people that she was intimately familiar with. The downside of the ability was that it wasn’t a passive awareness, she had to really concentrate to feel anything and it could be easily stymied if the target knew to shield themselves from it. Thankfully, most people were not aware that Sisters had such a capability, and of the ones that did know about it most assumed that it was limited by a short range.
Standing up and wiping her hands across her eyes, she realized once again that she had forgotten that her arm was now made of some strange metal. Over the course of the last several days the gauntlet had changed its appearance, smoothing out and becoming less bulky. At this point it was more or less the size and shape that her actual arm had been. The material was also unnaturally soft and was warm to the touch. If someone closed their eyes and touched it she guessed that most people probably wouldn’t be able to tell it apart from a flesh and blood arm. Ignoring the mystery of the arm for now, she bent over and grabbed a stick from the ground.
Scratching a mark into the dirt pointing toward where her awareness told her that Rosalyn was she walked fifty paces to the side of her mark and made another. She then repeated the process once more, and when she was done did some quick math in her head. Thinking carefully about local terrain features Cham could not help but let out a wide grin. She knew where Rosalyn had taken shelter at. “Rose you clever girl!” Turning slightly away from her awareness she locked her gaze on where she knew the entrance to the deep cave was.
Cham joyously ran, filling her legs with holy power and eating up the distance to where her kid was. After an hour of running at speeds that would have winded even the most accomplished of athletes, Cham was in sight of the cave entrance. Stopping for a moment she took the time to pull the cesti that the Abbess had provided and put one into each of her hands. Looking down at her new arm, she shivered. Sometimes she got a feeling from it that made her nervous. Shaking her head to chase away unnecessary thoughts, she filled her arms with power and erected a shield around herself.
Edging forward in a combat ready stance, Cham entered the cave. Closing her eyes she strengthened her shield as she reached out once more to feel for undead. She could sense many broken husks buried under the dirt and stone of several cave-ins, but there did not seem to be anything that was a threat in the nearby vicinity.
She could also see the lich on the edge of her vision, a dark scar on her awareness that was getting much too close to where Rosalyn was hiding. Knowing that she had to hurry, but not rush she swept her senses quickly around her nearby area one last time before moving on.
Cham froze as a chill ran down her spine. Her extended awareness had brushed up against… something. Spinning around to face whatever had caused the sensation she was greeted by empty air. Eyeing the space suspiciously Cham started into the deep cave, using the trail of broken undead as bread crumbs.
Cham disappeared into one of the cave entrances, oblivious to the red eyes peering at her from a dark cloud on the ceiling.
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Birdie was worried about his new friend. He would do his best to protect her, but while he was gathering his equipment and chemicals he had gotten word that the skirmishers were not able to repel the invading forces and a retreat further into the tunnels had been called. Birdie was glad that his tribe would be out of the line of fire, but he wished that Rosalyn wasn’t so tall so that he could lead her to safety in the kobold escape tunnels.
Birdie frowned at using the name in his head. It just didn’t sound right to him. After much nagging Rosalyn had finally convinced him to stop calling her Pretty Lady. Birdie didn’t understand why she wouldn’t take the compliment, but it was her call so in the end Birdie would deal with it.
The desire to hide warred with the desire to help protect Rosalyn, but in the end the loyalty bought by a bit of kindness and some delicious fish stew weighed more than his survival instinct. Deep down he knew that they were both going to die, but if he could delay them for even a second it would be a fair price in his mind. Still, he was one of the best trap makers in the tribe and he would make them pay for every step they took. He knew that the skirmishers had inflicted massive casualties onto the invaders and there weren't that many left. They might be able to get out of this, no matter how pessimistic his gut was being.
Birdie watched his new friend intently while he worked at the jars he was carefully filling with alchemical solutions. She was demonstrating her combat moves to the Great One and making plans of her own. His gaze slid off of his friend and onto the Great One, lounging in her prison of light. He had heard tales growing up about how the kobold tribe had spent many years trying to break or weaken the cage that the Great One was trapped in. Something about the magic specifically resisted anything with any amount of dragon blood. Birdie had always known that the great one was a dragon, she did regularly visit their den to chat with the chief and play with the pups after all, but to see it in person awed Birdie on a primal level.
This was what his tribe was descended from. They had the blood of dragons. It caused him to puff his chest out a little in pride.
Not for the first time Bridie wished he could breathe fire like the dragons of old. Letting out a jealous sigh he eyed his work and quickly his look of jealousy turned into a satisfied grin. Letting out a chuckle he hefted the small clay pot and made sure the oil soaked rag that was stuffed into the jelly-like substance was firmly in place. “Alchemist Fire might not be as awesome as being able to breathe fire, but Birdie thinks it will do for today.”
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Rosalyn had spent the better part of the last day explaining the combat art to Serena. She was surprised that it wasn’t something that existed a hundred years ago. She had always assumed that the Temple had always been around, but according to Serena that wasn’t the case. Rosalyn wondered what Mother Cham would say about that?
Serena for her part was incredibly interested in this new knowledge. “So you say these Sisters fill their body with holy magic and use it to push their bodies past normal limits? Interesting! Hmm, does it have to be holy magic?” Rosalyn thought about that for a moment, mulling over the idea. “I can’t see why it had to be specifically holy energy. The advanced combat forms are all about directing energy in such a way that you are basically using it as a weapon and shield to attack and defend. I am not really sure how easy it would be to use other forces, but if they could be molded in a similar manner… why do you ask? I can’t use magic, I don’t have enough innate mana.” Rosalyn’s face soured as she remembered the test from a week ago. “Has it only been a week…?”
Lifting her head with a smug sense about her, Serena chuckled. “I have an idea and if it works I will be able to help you when the attack comes. Please take a fighting stance and start going through your forms.” Watching Serena close her eyes and start mumbling softly to herself, Rosalyn did as she was asked, starting one of her normal shadow boxing sets, fighting an illusory Janie in her mind’s eye. Halfway through the second round something strange happened.
One of the blue proto-wisps appeared above her head, and then another, and then another. Rosalyn stopped and stared at the dragon. “What?” Opening one eye Serena waved a claw in a keep going motion. Shrugging, Rosalyn continued the bout against her unseen foe. During the action of the fourth round the orbs all slammed into her at once, throwing her off her feet. Rosalyn panicked at the sudden attack and turned a wild eye onto Serena.
“Do not worry child! I am not attacking. I had to get a sense of your flow and you were right, there isn’t much mana there so I had to be a bit forceful in my… attachment.” Rosalyn looked down at her hands and saw the blue waves of power flowing over her arms like liquid sapphires. She gasped and looked back up at Serena.
“You want me to channel your mana instead of holy power!” Jumping on her hind legs, Serena let out a loud crack of laughter. “Exactly! Attached as it is to your own mana you should be able to move it like, or at least near enough like, to the holy power that these Sisters use in their combat. Not to mention I can use you as an anchor and actually put some force into any attacks I make with that mana. With a little practice we can probably attack in ways that would make these Sisters jealous! We will fight… together!”