The moment he opened his eyes, Dog Eats Dog knew something was wrong. He might not conform to the earth-aligned techniques the brotherhood was known for, but he was still a Tunnel Dog, and he could feel an impending cave-in from a klick away.
“Sulphur? Cobo?” His words were slightly slurred by his abrupt awakening, and he shook his head violently. Drawing an eye across the tent, it jumped out at him that it was conspicuously empty; only one other sleeping bag was filled. “Sulphur, get up! Up, up, c’mon!”
As always, the fastest way to get Sulphur standing was to do it for him. Ded grabbed the man under his arms and hauled him up, where he stayed upright more through instinct than anything. “Ded..?” A yawn. “Ugh, I feel like I just lay down. This army shit is…” As he came more awake and saw the tension on Ded’s frame, he trailed off. “Something happen?”
“I think so. The kids aren’t in the tent. C’mon.” He pushed past the flap, ignoring Sulphur’s sputtering as the morning light shone in.
“Argh, what? Ded, they probably just left to take a piss or whatever.”
“Something feels off.” Squinting, his eyes played over the camp. There was something wrong, but he couldn’t quite place it. There were a few warriors about, but-
“Aw, fuck,” he muttered. Then, as Sulphur came out of the tent with his goggles affixed, his cursing rose to a shout. “Fuck! Sulphur, the hovercraft is gone!”
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The hovercraft was gone. Less than a minute after they went from bog to the more appealing deadly swampland, one of the two repeller plates blew and they went down in a leech-filled pond. He was able to guide the craft to shore with the one remaining plate, but the vehicle stubbornly refused to climb over the wall of plant life that bordered the shore. “Ancestors damnit!” He pushed on the accelerator, but the thin reeds might as well have been steel bars for all the craft could move them.
He stuck his head out the side, looking down into the pond. Naw, getting out and pushing isn’t an option. It was filled with little toothed leeches that would chew him down to the bone the moment he put anything under the surface. Maybe Stingy could do it? “Hey Stingy, could you pull the thing onto land? The leeches’ll get me if I swim for it.”
She shrugged. “Probably, but why? It’ll just get caught on more plants. We’ll be faster on foot!”
He growled. “There’s a bunch of food still in here, I don’t wanna let it go.” And if I lose the craft on top of everything else, Ded actually will just kill me. I can’t even prove anything that happened, actually happened; at least the craft has battle damage.
“Oh, I could carry that!” At his dubious look, she huffed. “Come on, we’re not dragging this thing back all the way. Is there even enough fuel for that?”
His teeth grit. Not at the speed we'll be going. But still-! “At least get it up on land, so somebody can come back for it.” She didn’t budge. “Please?”
She sighed, but he seemed to have convinced her. She shucked her robes off and dropped from the side of the craft, landing up to her shoulders in stagnant water. Moving around to the front, she pulled the craft through the reeds with one hand. Then she rose up out of the water, leeches clinging to every bit of her body, and set the craft down on dry land. “There! Happy?”
He eyed the woman, who retrieved her sword and started scraping off leeches like she was shaving. “Yeah. Thanks.”
They had maybe five days’ worth of food, after Stingy ate some to pay off her regeneration. Cobo wasn’t sure why there was so much on the craft – it certainly wasn’t there yesterday – but he decided not to question it. Travelling through the Horrible Swamp was a lot more difficult on foot, and they couldn't go more than a few minutes without running into hostile wildlife. Stingy’s sword took care of almost everything, but on some occasions there were things that needed different techniques to deal with. Clouds of biting insects, for instance.
“Don’t move!” Cobo held out one hand palm out, and braced it with the other. He fed energy into the technique, and a ball of caustic green liquid burbled into existence. He blinked. That’s not how it looked last time I practiced this. It should have been a ball of fire, not water! Whatever; either it would work or it wouldn’t.
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Stingy looked back at him while slapping at the cloud of hair-like flying worms doing its best to bury her. She understood his plan instantly, and covered her head as the waterball splashed over her, soaking most of the insects.
Correction: acidball, not waterball. The thin worms sloughed off her like mud, seeming to dissolve nearly on contact – along with the scraps of clothing that had survived till now, and the top layer of her skin. “Ah! It stings! Ow!”
“Sorry. Couldn’t think of a better way to handle that.” He winced, watching her shake the acid off with frantic movements.
She ate, then they kept going. Kept fighting, pushing further back towards where the army had last been – it had probably moved on by now, but moving over already-cleared land would be faster and easier. Better to catch up then follow the trail, than try and make it to where they thought it would be straight through untouched swamp.
They had gotten halfway there when the search party found them. They pushed through a wall of thick grass, and came face to face with Ded, Sulphur, a couple of masked guys, and the commander herself. Cobo squawked, and Stingy excitedly waved.
“Daughter.” Stinger-tail’s voice was ice-cold. “I am, yet again, greatly displeased.”
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“I did similar things when I was your age, daughter.” In other circumstances, hearing mother compare the two of them would have made her happy. But right now, spoken in those acidic tones, the seemingly benign sentence could only be interpreted as a threat. “Do you know what my mother did to me when I disobeyed her?”
She fidgeted. “…Punished you?”
“She did nothing.” Stinger-Tail’s words sunk low, almost intimate. “She handled me as she handled every other problem. With subtlety. And now I am here, leading an army to her door. Clearly, it was not the correct response.”
Stingy felt chilled, both by whatever consequences were coming her way, and by the cold wind blowing across her unclothed body. “Um. Sorry? I promise I won’t do it again.” She meant it; while it had been fun in the moment – even the wormy bits – the aftermath wasn’t worth it at all. She could feel disappointment and anger radiating off her mother’s body.
The lady lowered her head. “No, you will not.” She sighed, warm air condensing to mist as it came out the sides of her mask. “For all I dislike it, I cannot help but retain some of the old crone in myself. Stay.”
Stingy obeyed, standing in place as her mother slithered towards the group of men standing a ways away. She looked more at home here, in a way; like her body had been built for pushing through the wet earth, and was happy to be in an environment that suited it. But whatever happiness existed, assuming Stingy wasn’t imagining it, didn’t extend to her voice. “You. Step forward.”
Cobo made his way to the front of the group. Her mother’s words were clipped. “Name?”
“Cobo, commander.”
“Son of?”
The man hesitated a moment. “…Great Mas.”
“Hmm.” She rose up, until she was nearly as tall as the Clanboss. “An inauspicious lineage. In ways that you could not possibly understand, you have inconvenienced Junk Dog. I could kill you for this.” The man slumped slightly.
“I didn’t… Lu, he was…”
“And yet, I might be inclined to mercy.” She reached down, snatching the man with one hand. His Raidboss stepped forward, but a cultist blocked him. “Tell me.” She held the man up to her face. “What is your life worth to you?”
The man squirmed for a moment, but as her words registered he calmed. A look came to his face, one that was resigned, but which held no regret. “Nothing. My life is the least valuable thing I own.”
The lady held the man for long seconds. “Hmm.” She turned, carrying him over to set him next to Stingy. They shared a look, his eyes meeting her smooth mask.
“Cobo, son of Great Mas. By the authority of the great Junk Dog, and by my own authority as the Idol of the Cult of the Stinger Tail, I name you Lonesome.” Shock passed through Cobo, his group, even Stingy and the cultists. “I strip from you the blood of Junk Dog. From now, you are an enemy to us. I shall allow you a few moments to depart from my presence, but only that.”
The man stood like a statue. His face morphed between emotions too fast in discern any single one, before solidifying into a stoic determination. “I understand.”
The lady nodded, then turned to her.
“Mother!” She could feel what was coming. “Please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-!”
“This was inevitable.” Her mother’s words stopped her cold. “I attempted to pervert nature by keeping you at my side, but it seems I was not perverse enough.”
She enveloped Stingy with a hand, holding her tightly. Then, gingerly, she plucked her mask off her face, leaving her with only a bare sword, without even a sheath. “Mother..!”
“You are my daughter.” She withdrew her hand, and the cold wind took its place. “Sharpen your hunger, both of you. If you return,” a hiss; not amused, but something close. “I expect you to lead an army twice as grand as mine. Go. Flee.”
She could only stand, the wind blowing against her bare face, until Cobo tugged on her arm. She allowed herself to be drawn away.
“We need to go. She’s not bluffing.” He pulled her along, until she found her feet and started moving with him.
“Yeah.” She had known all her life that she would separate from mother when she grew up. But this was… Too abrupt! They ran through the swamp, and Stingy let the emotions work through her. “I’m sorry.”
He was huffing, beginning to lose steam. “What- ha- what for?”
“I should have stopped him. I knew he was special, but I didn’t think until it was too late… I thought everything would just work itself out.”
He grunted. “Eh. I don’t think you could have stopped Lu. It’s not that you’re not strong, it’s that…” Their pace slowed now that mother’s towering figure was no longer visible. “Lu is way too slippery.”