The group exploded into the skies high above the building that previously held Jirango and Xican hostage. Marcus tumbled around to get a good grip of his allies as he warped away again. The Devout’s mind was full of thanks to the above that he was able to even teleport in the area of the cells, the people working there possibly warping to and from constantly.

With not many Dimensional Jaunts left for the day, Marcus spied an open space far away, landing a final transportation in a grassy plain as his group rolled around in the flowers from a rough landing.

“Everyone good?” Marcus asked as he shakily rose.

“Yeah”, Amalia replied as she checked on the two captives.

“I yet live”, Jirango answered.

Xican gave a weak wave, most likely the only reply he’d like to give in his state.

Marcus scanned his vicinity, trying to understand where his party had arrived. “Somewhere I’ve not seen before”, he thought to himself. “Amalia, where are we?”

Amalia looked over invisible displays as she gave a shocked reply, “We’re way north. Looks like Helm kingdom?”

“Fuck me”, Jirango cursed as he aided Xican to his feet.

“A long way to go, and here’s me without any more warping”, Marcus announced. The Devout looked over the party, they weren’t going to walk for long. “Amalia, carry Jirango. We’ll make as much distance as we can on foot. No doubt these two are going to get tracked regardless of Xican’s missing sigil.”

“Got it”, Amalia replied as she picked up a half-reluctant Jirango.

Marcus picked up Xican similarly, his staff hugged in the caster’s arms.

“Jirango, do you know a good estimate of where we are? Or could you?” Marcus asked as the party moved onwards.

“Hard to say. I have been to Helm a few times, especially during the last war. I’d need to see a better landmark”, the Half-Hand replied before looking at his carrier, “How’d you know where we were?”

“It’s that mapping trinket Logan handed to us. In case we got lost”, Marcus lied as he spoke for his ally.

“Quite the crafter. Logan has so many focuses it’s hard to say he does”, Jirango laughed.

“I’d need some landmarks to get a good idea, too”, Amalia admitted.

“Let’s hope they aren’t quick to track us”, Marcus prayed.

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The party moved for so long that the sun in the sky started to descend, with nary a sight of encroaching threats it seemed it would take a long period for Jirango or Xican to be scryed. Marcus continued to thank those watching over him, but it would only last so long, there were others to watch over.

Settling down for the night, the group was able to get some guarded sleep, though it was full of tosses and turns. The removed skin from Xican had scabbed over, a reminder that their tracers would be slowed. At least on the morrow, they could all make use of their feet from full bellies and relaxation away from torturers and alchemists.

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Whilst rest was welcome, Marcus couldn’t help but wake to any sound in the forests and plains. He was far from home, surrounded by foreign lands and possibly dangerous monsters in the wilderness. The Devout had thought his first time this distance away would be by Logan’s side, rather now it was to be back at his side.

When the day finally arrived, Marcus was only able to grab his staff and dagger before feeling a rush of force hit his stomach. A fistful of energy surrounding the leg of the vampire who had accosted them in the prison hit Marcus dead centre and sent him flying back.

Crashing through a tree, snapping another’s branch, and landing into a tumbling slide across the plains, Marcus finally stopped his backward momentum as he struggled to his feet.

Followed quickly thereafter was the vampire, her raven hair whipping back and forth as she came to a stop. Taking a bite out of her thumb, she weaved the blood into the air and chanted, “Demon-Clan Spell: Warping Censure”, causing the blood to blacken and ring around Marcus’s body.

“No doubt about what that does”, Marcus cursed in his head. “Took your time finding us”, he teased.

The woman sweated under her fringe, but Marcus could tell. “Our underestimation caused your flight, not your own prowess. Believe me, it’ll be hard to keep you alive.”

The vampire rocked her head around as if she was moshing, the raven strands dancing in the air as sweat flew around. Strands disconnected from her hair as her body took on a more furry aesthetic. Another monster in disguise? The strands were quickly ferried towards Marcus as if they were countless daggers.

Without time for reply, Marcus spun his staff around to deflect the woman’s attack. The strands made thumping and metallic noises as they were battered away, Marcus’s staff cracking slightly under the stress.

Her body then warped away, apparating with a blast of wind at Marcus’s hind and just above his right shoulder. Raising an arm, he narrowly blocked a spinning kick, sliding across the grassy floor from the force. His arm tingled as it took the brunt.

Leaping towards her foe, the woman’s form continued to break apart and showed its monstrous underlay. As her foot landed a solid blow into the floor, Marcus backstepping to avoid it, her leg tore away her clothing revealing fur and a clawed foot.

Marcus skipped towards his foe and landed a solid staff smash into her chin, sending her into a backwards somersault as she tried to kick at the Devout again. Marcus twisted his body to dodge the strike and followed the momentum to make a sideways swing at the lady, missing her as she pushed off the floor with her hands that had turned to claws.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Dragging his own clawed-style hand, Marcus chanted, “Gaia Skystrike”, forming the earth beneath the woman into a spike and impaling her in the stomach from behind. Red blood painted the air as she groaned in pain.

Marcus stepped backwards as he began to Enhance himself, finding a gap in the confrontation where he could keep an eye on his target and have her not move around too much. A grey aura surrounded him as he became better at confrontations, one shortly following his magic as the lady warped in front of him.

Dipping his head left and right, side-stepping, and battering away claws, Marcus was able to avoid taking further damage from his foe. However, her endless onslaught made it difficult to counterattack.

The sounds of metal clashing and explosions could be heard in the distance, no doubt this woman had brought backup to deal with the others. But with Marcus having been inflicted with that beginning spell, he was sure he couldn’t teleport. Regardless, he attempted to do so just in case, but was affirmed when his body merely vibrated.

Circling his foe, Marcus landed a solid jumping smash into the back of the woman’s head. Cracking of both wood and bone was heard as Marcus pushed off from his attack and began to run back.

Swiping a hand across the floor, Marcus chanted, “Gaia Wall”, erecting a tall barrier of mud and rock. Marcus could tell the spell around him weakened slightly, but it didn’t weaken for long.

Warping atop the wall a second later was the aggressor, whose face was treated to a fast-firing hunk of rock from Marcus’s readied arm. She could only muster a slight movement, the rock carrying off her left ear and a chunk of the left side of her face and hair.

As her body was propelled off the rocky wall, Marcus jumped after her, turned horizontal, and forcefully threw his hand towards her stomach, “Gaia Grasp”, causing large spikes to explode out from her back as she was pushed to the floor, the rock bursting back through her stomach as she impacted the ground.

Kicking off the other side of the wall, Marcus landed a few feet from his foe as he healed himself from the previous assaults. It seemed his foe was of the same mind as they were also surrounded by yellow lights.

The woman spun around on the floor as they centred their aim on Marcus, warped away, and landed a solid claw into his back as she appeared again.

Marcus whipped his arm around as he grappled his opponent’s wrist, turned and twisted, and caused the foe to lose their balance and star jump until her head was oriented to the floor. With a solid kick, he sent the foe flying, but she disappeared again.

Appearing behind Marcus, another swipe was blocked by the Devout’s staff. The woman grabbed the head of the staff and struck its centre, snapping it in two as its durability finally reached its end.

Backstepping away from one another, Marcus drew up his dagger, while the woman coughed a black mess into her claw.

Marcus could feel a twinge over his body, with a mental command his body vibrated, sucked into his centre, and disappeared. Appearing with an outward blast of wind, he stabbed the woman in the back with one hand and placed the other at her neck, “Gaia Grasp”, exploding rock from her throat.

The woman kicked back at Marcus, but the Devout caught it and twisted, spinning the woman in the air before landing a solid punch, hurtling her to the floor again.

Placing his knee over her stomach, Marcus threw a hand for her chest as he chanted, “Gaia Grasp”, rocks appearing over his palm.

The woman retaliated with a raised hand and silent casting of a spell, Marcus’s body halting in place, a few inches away from planting his attack.

“The fuck is this?” Marcus cursed, not seeing telekinesis affect a person thus far, outside of Fahrenheit.

The woman wasn’t doing this easily. Her eyes started to glass over as blood poured from her ears, nose, and mouth.

Either the gap in their levels didn’t allow the vampire to control Marcus too easily, or she was doing some dangerous ritual casting. This was the first seeing it done silently though, taking all the concentration she could muster, all the life she could muster too, the bleeding leading Marcus to believe she was Bloodcasting.

Every second, Marcus got an inch closer with his grasp, breaking through what resistance the woman had left. She was stalling for backup. But Marcus’s allies hadn’t gone down easy. Especially when there was another PC in their midst that their enemies hadn’t accounted for it seemed.

The woman moved her other hand shakily as she brought up a commwatch from her trouser pocket. “Tille, help—” she began to plead.

Marcus finally broke the hold, his hand punching the woman’s chest and shredding her insides apart with rocky abandon. The woman’s eyes became lifeless as the black sclera covered over her pupils.

Marcus sighed heavily as he looked up and warped to his allies.

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Appearing with a slamming fist into the back of a foe’s head, Marcus saved Jirango from a grappling tussle. Throwing out an arm, “Gaia Shot”, Marcus shot a shard of rock at one foe that Xican was facing, the mage finishing off the other.

The loud slam of a mace into a skull signed the final sound of combat, Amalia finishing off another foe, adding to the nearly three dozen bodies on the floor.

“Is everyone ok?” Marcus asked in a near-yell.

“That we are, fuck these traitors”, Jirango spat as he fell to his ass.

“They just kept coming. But it’s finished”, Amalia announced as she could see the experience numbers.

Xican waved again, his tongue not returning, but the pain in his fingers lessened to allow him to silentcast again.

“Praise be to Pondress”, Marcus prayed as he began to heal his friends, “I took out their leader. Seems she wanted to separate us.”

“Must be an old vampire to be able to survive the sun’s rays”, Jirango mentioned.

Xican seemed like he had something to say, but couldn’t.

“Ah, or magical protections”, Jirango translated as he looked at the caster, “It’s a shame our caster friend lacks a tongue or fingernails. He’d be blasting our way to victory if so.”

Jirango was right. Xican was a high-level caster. At least 24. No doubt he had been ambushed or cursed to get apprehended like he did. Lacking his proper faculties nerfed him heavily.

Marcus quickly grabbed his bags and retrieved a replacement staff and dagger. “She blocked my teleportation, but it wore off. We should get moving, fast.”

“Let’s go to that field she brought you to, it’d be easier to warp from”, Jirango advised.

Marcus took the advice as everyone followed after to the fields. Eyeying the part he had left his foe, he saw empty clothes with dust floating off into the wind. “She didn’t last that long in the sun”, Marcus spoke with a hint of pride.

Quickly jogging to the clothes, Marcus placed a sizeable amount of dust into a round vial that contained almost all of what was left. The rest of her clothing and trinkets were shoved into his bags by the time his allies got close.

Xican made a few motions, the party recognising he wanted them to group up. The mage closed his eyes and seemingly tried to cast, but nothing happened. His face turned to frustration, most likely wanting to use Teleport over the normal Dimensional Jaunt.

“It’s alright”, Marcus comforted as he patted Xican’s shoulder, “We’ll just take the long way.”

“Do we have time?” Amalia asked.

“We better.”

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