I watched, horrified, as the suit shuddered. A sharp whistle hissed out of the holes in the helmet's visor. Suddenly, all but the helm lurched up into a sitting position. The visor flipped open and glowing yellow eyes appeared beneath it. The eyes darted around the room, widening as they caught sight of me.

A squeaky voice came from the helmet. "W-who are you?"

I didn't bother replying, having learned my lesson with Hale. I was sure the trembling and the fearful eyes looking up at me were all an act to lower my guard. But this thing was going to have to try harder than that if it wanted to kill me.

I made the first move, swinging a [Kick]-charged leg at the breastplate. The armor tanked it easily; despite its haggard appearance, the rusted metal was far from weak. Wincing, I pulled my leg back but the gauntlet grabbed my shin. With a sharp yank, it off-balanced me. I fell into a painful split and my pelvis protested the sudden stretch between my legs.

As I tried to pull myself up, I took a vambrace to the face just as my leg was released. The hard steel smashed my jaw and sent me tumbling backward. I rolled a couple of feet away, smashing into a wooden chest. It broke under the impact and stabbed me with small wooden splinters. The chests contents - bottles of an unknown liquid - shattered.

I laid there in a daze, watching through bleary eyes as the suit hurriedly stood up from the couch. It picked up the helmet and lumbered toward me. Crap. It's coming to finish me off and there's nothing I can do about it. I groaned as I tried to push myself off of the mess but my hand slipped on the fluids spilling out of the ruined chests. My chin brushed against my shoulder, sending a spike of pain through my head.

Too late, the voice said. Maybe, in the next life, you should reconsider attacking suits of armor that can move? Or anything in general; your combat potential drops to zero without your spear. Starting to think your love stick was a bit of a crutch...

Shut your trap for once, will you?

The voice giggled but it went silent. Not like it mattered much. The suit was almost upon me. Resigning myself to my fate, I tried to speak, to tell the thing to make my end quick, but the pain in my jaw refused to let me ask of such a thing. Fine, then.

Closing my eyes, I waited for the final blow to end my suffering. And yet...it never came. I peeked through slitted eyes to see the suit hovering over me. It held its helmet out with its visor flipped open; the eyes examined my body with intense scrutiny.

"I don't think he's dead," it mumbled, the voice muffled. "I hope I didn't hit him too hard...Maybe I should heal him just in case?"

It hesitated, clearly in some moral dilemma I didn't understand nor care about.

The head was clearly some important part of it. The way it gingerly held the helm, the eyes coming through it; all tell-tale signs I had missed. If only I had [Battle Sense]...Whatever. The battle still isn't over yet. I can try and get one last hit before it can do anything. I'm on my hurt arm; it might be painful - scratch that, it will be painful, but if I can [Punch] the helmet, I might be able to take whatever the heck this thing is is out.

I watched it carefully while activating [Punch]. I poured as much of my Stamina as I could into the Skill and clenched my fist. Three, two, o-

The creature's gauntlet flashed and jabbed one glowing finger on my chin. Before I could even think to scream, the white light traveled through its finger and into my head. Had it just poisoned me somehow? I remember Hale's eyes glowed similarly when she attacked me. Crap.

I slapped its hand away immediately. The thing shrieked and jumped back. Before I could even get a word in, the helmet started yapping away.

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh, I'M SO SORRY! I thought you were unconscious-"

At this point, I'd stopped listening to its meaningless rambling. I rubbed my jaw, surprised that it didn't hurt anymore. Huh. My VIT should've taken longer to heal it, right? What was it at, anyway?

_

Name: Flake

Class: [F] Guard - 3 (0/300), [F] Pugilist - 1 (0/100)

Stats: Health (100), Stamina (100), Attack (8), Defense (8), Vitality (9), Agility (8), Perception (5), Magic (0)

Guard Skills: [Measure Bribe] - 1, [Lesser Radar] - 1

Pugilist Skills: [Kick] - 1, [Punch] - 3

_

It definitely shouldn't have healed so fast...Was this the work of the creature? Whatever the glowy thing it'd poked me with was, it hadn't killed me yet. So the only other option must've been that it could heal me.

This was a magical thing, right? Glowing things always seemed to produce natural effects. Crystal's fireballs glowed especially bright. Huh. I haven't thought about her in a while. I wonder how she's doing? Probably dead, without me. Her magic isn't all that strong, from what I remember.

You're an oddball, mate. Some part of your head is definitely cracked.

The voice was back to talking nonsense again. I think I'd be better off ignoring it.

A step towards progress!

The creature was still talking, for some reason. The hands shook as it talked about how it barely passed the 'academy' and it never seemed to be able to judge humans well and on and on and on. After a minute of listening to more of its jibberish, I cut in.

"What are you?"

Didn't you get clawed the last time you asked that?

I corrected myself. "Who are you?"

"What?" The helmet blinked. Then its eyes widened. "Oh, oh! Um, I'm a Dullahan! I, uh, I know my kind is rare. There aren't many suits in good condition for us to haunt, you know?"

It sighed as it turned its helmet toward its breastplate. "And this one is already trashed...Just how long have I been stuck in this place?"

"As if I would know," I said, huffing.

"Oh! That was just-I wasn't-I'll just be quiet now..."

Its visor flipped shut and it rested the helmet on top of the breastplate, sliding snugly inside the gorget. I wondered what it's like being a creature made of metal. Can it experience touch? Does it need to eat? Does it bleed? All of these questions and more I wanted to ask, but they had to wait. I needed to start slow, first, to gauge its intentions.

"So..." I started. "Do you have a name? Do you 'Dullahans' even use them?"

The creature bristled. Well, it bristled as well as a suit of armor could bristle. "Yes!" came the voice. "Why wouldn't we? We're not uncivilized beings, you know!"

"Then what is it?"

"Oh, uh, er, it's, well, no one's ever asked this before-"

"I thought you said you were civilized."

"I am!" it protested. "I just...I've been reAwakened for a while and sometimes have trouble remembering the Before..."

I perked up, pushing myself up onto my bum. Before? Was the Dullahan like me? Had it woken up as I had? I immediately questioned the creature, demanding answers. Flustered, it said, "I-well, no, I didn't just wake up. I...I died and then went through the, er...process. I spent a couple of years wandering the Realms before I found a suitable body."

"How did you die?" I prompted. "What process? You still haven't told me your name, by the way."

"It's Líadan Maccances," it blurted. "And I can't tell you."

Scowling, I snarled, "What do you mean you can't tell me?"

The Dullahan shifted uncomfortably, the cuisses that made up its legs screeching as they rubbed against each other. "Look, can you just drop it? I'm really not supposed to-"

Its hand lashed out, grabbing me by the throat before I could lunge. I coughed and spittle splattered against its arm. The thing gasped and let me go, staring at its hand in shock as if it'd choked me on reflex.

Wheezing, I dragged myself away from the monstrous being. Rubbing my bruised neck, I wondered how it could react so fast. Even my reflexes weren't so fine-tuned that I could grab someone before they'd even had a chance to move.

"Sorry! I just, well, I saw you coming and I thought you might hurt yourself trying to hit me and-oh, your leg is still swelling, I can-"

"Don't touch me," I growled.

It snapped its hand back. "Right, right, sorry. Have to ask for consent. Um, can you please stop trying to attack me? It's not going to end well for you..."

I grunted. An armored body is a huge advantage, of course. Meanwhile, I'm down to flesh and bones. Obviously, I wouldn't win in a fair fight. Maybe if I had my spear...

Well, I don't. And my efforts have been in vain - so far. We'll call it a truce for now. Nodding my head at that, I said, "Fine." The Dullahan visibly relaxed at my words. Clearly, it understood the only reason it had bested me was because of its armor. My combat superiority would surely show once I reclaimed my spear.

"So...can I ask why you're here, too?" Líaden asked, scratching its head. "Humans don't normally end up in dark, ominous rooms in their underwear, do they?"

"No," I said glumly, slumping against a box. "Some clawed witch likely put me here."