Looking up from the road Crimson can see another settlement on the horizon, this one at least triple the size of the one they just left. Before he can speak a sudden gust of wind knocks him on his rear. He rolls to his back, his bow already in his hands and aiming at the aggressor. A very unimpressed Fey and Kitty staring back at him.
“One, nice reaction time. Two, awful situational awareness. Three, put the bow down.” She says as she jumps off of Kitty.
Crimson climbs to his feet, seeing no one else surprised at her presence. His only guess is that they saw or heard her coming while he was lost in thought.
Her armor was covered in blood, two different kinds of it. One the same as the blood that came from the fleshwalkers, and another that was slightly brighter than a human’s.
“What exactly happened to you?” Vulture asked as she sniffed at Fey. “Ghoul and fleshwalker blood? You had a good time didn’t you?”
Vulture leaned in towards Fey, her head cocked to the side as she looked up to the taller siren. A smirk present on her lips. Just as Crimson thought Fey was going to burn, punch, ignore, or head butt her, Fey smiled.
“How’ve you been V?” She says as she pulls her helmet off. “And no, no I didn’t.”
Vulture visibly pouts at the report.
“It should have been an easy mission right?” Vulture asks. “You didn’t know the person after all.”
“While that might be true I still have to tell the person they inducted, that’ll be fun.” Fey says with an annoyed and somewhat upset expression.
Seeing this, Vulture attempts to cup Fey’s cheek but Fey grabs onto her wrist before she can.
“Don’t.” Fey says, hostility edging into her voice.
Vulture goes to respond but is stopped by Fey moving her aside and walking up to Grunt.
Crimson stares at the altercation slightly confused. Looking to his right he can see Mon shudder lightly, her ears picking up something he couldn’t.
“Did you find anything at the first village?” Fey asks Grunt.
“A few stragglers, seems like one managed to reproduce in the village,” Grunt reports. “It doesn’t bode well for the other settlements.”
Fey nods at the answer, seemingly expecting it. Fey turns around and whistles at Kitty, the wydran looking towards her attentively. Fey then makes a circle over her head with her hands, prompting the wydran to take off into the sky.
“He’ll scout the surrounding area and alert me of anything too dangerous,” Fey says as she watches Kitty fly away. “I’ll be traveling with you from here on out.”
“This seems a bit too easy, I mean we have three veteran members with us,” Crimson says out loud. “All we’ve had to do is kill a couple, rather weak monster.”
Fey shakes her head as she begins walking down the road.
“I told you you’d get back up if you need it,” She says as a puff of fire comes out from behind her mask. “If the infestation took hold, then we may not have brought enough.”
Crimson watches her walk away, eventually Vulture appears next to him.
“She basically means we’re screwed,” She says with a grin.
“Yeah, I picked that up,” Crimson says now beginning the walk with the rest of the group. “She pretty pessimistic huh?”
“Yep, ever since she got burned.” Vulture jokes.
Crimson smiles lightly at the pun, Vulture returning it before she jogs to catch up with Fey.
“So Mon, any reason why you didn’t hug tackle her like you usually do?” Echo asks with a confused face.
“Not allowed when on a mission.” Mon says bluntly.
“Ok, any info on those two’s actions?” Crimson asks. His curiosity over Fey smiling more than once a week, let alone within the same hour, practically consuming him. “They seem very…intimate, I think.”
“They’ve worked together before,” Mon answers. “That’s all I know, aside from the obvious. I’ve never seen someone try to pet her before…”
Crimson shakes his head at Mon, not bothering to explain it to her.
Suddenly everyone stops, Fey’s hand halting them.
“We’re about a day’s walk, I suggest we stop here and camp,” Fey says as she turns back to the group. “Any rejections?”
“I suggest we get off the road, better head towards the edge of the tree line,” Grunt says, pointing off into the dense forest that had followed the road for nearly the entire way. “Easier to spot people and harder to be spotted. Vulture had a run in with some bandits, so I think the detour is worth the time.”
Fey looks towards Vulture and receives a nod of confirmation, then begins walking towards the tree line. Her weapon now drawn, and an attentive look in her eye.
-------------------------------------------------
Crimson sits atop the tree, his bow next to him and his eye trained on the surrounding forest. He looks down at the now snuffed campfire below him, the rest of his party sleeping soundly. All except for Fey who is leaned up against a tree, her helmet on and frequent puffs of fire coming out of the helmet’s eyes as she breathed. A real fire hazard.
Crimson leaned over to Mon, who chose to take watch with him due to Deidra not being able to climb the tree without breaking the branches, and pointed at Fey.
“Does she always sleep like that?” Crimson asks. “I mean, it doesn’t look comfortable and I doubt she fell asleep like that on accident.”
“I can’t really think of any other way for her to sleep, she can’t lay down or she’ll burn the forest down,” Mon said with a shrug. “If I had to guess she’s got fireproof sheets at HQ but I’ve never seen anything resist those flames. Aside from her scarf.”
“Can you tell me anything abou-“
Crimson silently stands atop the tree branch, his bow drawn and the sharp end of an arrow already traveling towards its intended target. With a soft whine and the thump of a body a lone wolf dies beside the road.
Mon looks over to it, her enhanced eyes easily seeing the corpse. She snickers at it, her tail waving excitedly.
“Stupid dog.” She says. “Nice shot, bow works well doesn’t it?”
Crimson turns to her to answer to see her no longer there. He turns back to the wolf to see Mon pull out his arrow and hurriedly rush back to him, handing the arrow back to him.
“It nearly pierced all the way through, can’t wait to see what it’ll do to an actual monster,” Mon said, answering her own question. “Do you have any more of those special arrows?”
“A few, smoke, barbed, broadhead, a gas that eliminates oxygen and is also flammable, and that’s it,” Crimson answers, fastening his quiver as he does. “Only two of the gas ones, those things weren’t easy to make.”
Mon nods, her excitement tempered but the glint in her eyes still obvious. Eventually Vulture and Grunt take their places and Crimson lays on the ground, using his cloak as a blanket against the chilly air. His eyes eventually close, and the only thing he hears as he sleeps is Fey’s flames.
Crimson snaps up from his sleep, flames spanning across the forest. The only reason Crimson wasn’t consumed was because of his cloak, which was now catching fire. He jumps up and bolts out of the fire, heading towards the gravel road. He reaches it and rips off his cloak, azure flames quickly consuming it. He looks around the road, looking for anyone else. He eventually spots Fey standing along the road staring at something in the distance. He runs to her, the flames building as he does. As he stops next to her he shakes her out of her daze.
“What happened!” He screams at her. “Where’s everyone else!”
She glances at him, giving him a slight peek at her glowing eyes. She looks away, staring into the flames yet again. He follows her eyes and seeing the rest of the party. All of them huddled together attempting to stay away from the ever growing flames. He tries to run towards them, but Fey’s hand latches onto his shoulder. She looks down at him, shaking her head in a knowing manner.
Crimson rips her hand off and runs into the flames, ignoring the searing of the flames as they burn his skin and heat his armor. He stops inside the ring of fire where the rest of them were standing, the only spot in the forest no longer consumed in flames.
“Come on!” He yells at them. “We can make it to the road if we run now!”
Each of them look at him, their black saucer eyes staring at him. Crimson stares at them shocked until he comes to his senses as he tries to run back to Fey, but they jump atop of him. Dragging him back, digging into his body as he tries to crawl away. A sharp pain in his throat pushes him further as the adrenaline carries him. He catches sight of Fey staring at him through the flames, her azure eyes showing no emotion. He tries to call out to her but can’t. He looks over his shoulder to see a helmetless Deidra, or what used to be Deidra, digging into his throat. Crimson looks back to Fey in panic but doesn’t see her anymore, just the flames as they wash over him.
Crimson opens his eyes to see Deidra above him. He reacts quickly and rolls to the side to avoid her. He looks up to see the rest of his group staring at him confused. He looks around checking if everyone is there. A hand suddenly clamps onto his shoulder, the grip like iron. Crimson tries to pull free but fails and instead turns to see Fey’s blue eyes looking into his, his hypnotic eyes barely affecting her.
“Calm it, we’re moving out. Get your stuff,” She says loudly, she then leans close to him and continues in a hushed tone. “And maybe apologize to Deidra.”
Fey walks towards Grunt as Crimson turns away. He shakes his head and rubs the fear out of his eyes as he walks back to Deidra, who is now checking her equipment.
“Sorry about that,” Crimson says as he walks up to her. “You just startled me.”
“Bad dream?” She asks, to which Crimson nods. “Then don’t worry about it, you aren’t the only one who didn’t sleep well.”
As she says this, Crimson spots the dark circles under her eyes. Before he can respond Echo’s arms loop around his neck, along with Deidra’s. Despite a bit of effort.
“You two don’t worry,” She says comfortingly. “I’ll be awake enough for both of you.”
Crimson and Deidra nod as Echo walks past them, catching up with a grumpy Mon. Crimson and Deidra quickly follow behind them.
“Is it going to affect your fighting?” He asks.
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“No, you?” She says.
“No, eyes are as sharp as ever.” Crimson confirms.
Deidra sees Crimson’s slight discomfort in being near her but chooses not to comment on it. Instead deciding to leave them both in silence as they prepare themselves for the day.
After another couple hours of walking Mon stops and begins sniffing the air. Vulture and Fey joining her quickly.
“Blood.” They all say in unison.
“We’re two hours from the village, be ready for a fight,” Fey says. “Don’t expect any survivors. Those things probably dropped the façade by now but don’t bother checking even if they look human.”
Everyone nods, even Crimson. His dream scaring him enough to do as he’s told despite what that means he’ll have to do.
Deidra nudges him on the shoulder, quickly getting his attention.
“You going to be able to do that?” She asks. “Kill something that looks human.”
“I’ll manage; we can’t take risks. Even if it’ll haunt me,” He says solemnly. “What about you?”
“Won’t be a problem, and I get the feeling it won’t be for Mon or Echo either,” Deidra says, looking over at Mon rapidly talking to Echo as the smaller girl attempts to understand. “Despite how they act, I don’t they’ll lose any sleep over it.”
“I hate the fact I find relief in that,” Crimson sighs. “But I guess that’s better than nothing.”
Seeing him upset, Deidra claps her hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner.
“Maybe next time we can get Fey to give us a job hunting something more akin to monster than a human next time,” Deidra says. “Maybe if we get Mon to beg, her cuteness could convince her. All we’d have to do was bribe Mon with toast first.”
Crimson stifles a laugh at the joke, his mood improved, if only a little.
“First good joke you’ve made.” Crimson says with a smirk.
“And the last if you keep acting like that.” Deidra says as she puts her helmet on.
“Oh come on, you can’t stop while you’re ahead.” Crimson complains.
Grunt looks away from the two, refocusing his attention back on Fey.
“I take it those two work well together?” Grunt asks.
Fey nods, her eyes focused on the road more than the conversation.
“They combo well, though Deidra is the only reason Crimson has lived this long,” She answers. “I’m hoping that will change, it could stunt his growth if it doesn’t. That and Deidra doesn’t seem willing to leave a comrade behind. It could ruin their cohesion if Crimson doesn’t improve. All in all though, they have a decent chance of living.”
“Doesn’t it get dull to calculate someone’s chance of survival constantly?” Grunt asks.
“Calculate isn’t the word I’d use but no. No point in putting effort into something if it won’t last long,” Fey confirms with an apathetic tone. “Aside from specific examples.”
“What specific examples?” Grunt asks with a confused face.
“I could name a few,” Vulture states, reentering the conversation after leaving the one she was having with Mon and Echo. “Some perhaps not for the ears of-“
She is quickly silenced by a stare from Fey, Vulture’s playful nature subdued by the gaze.
“As much as I respect you,” Grunt says with a sigh. “I’d still hate to live in your world.”
“Well, too late. You already do.” The ever pessimistic Fey announces.
Choosing to ignore the comment. Grunt looks back towards Mon and Echo, then back to Fey.
“What about those two?” He says, pointing towards them. “They don’t seem very cut out for this. One is a smith as well, why are they on a team?”
“I wouldn’t bet on you if you and Mon squared off against each other, though I may be biased. Echo isn’t the best of fighters but her armor and weapons is leagues above most,” Fey explains. “She could make a sizable fortune off selling her wares but she chose to be a Siren, so she must have a reason.”
“Do you know who inducted all of them?” Vulture asks.
“Dexter inducted Mon, no clue on Deidra or Echo, and I inducted Crimson.” She says.
“Ah, Dexter. How’s he been?” Grunt asks. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
Fey shrugs, her emotions hidden behind her scarf. Grunt doesn’t push the issue, the group falling into the silence after that. The only sound is that of the four younger individuals’ banter.
Another hour of walking later, Fey’s eyes spot the village gate. She stops and turns towards the rest of the group.
“This should be the center of the infestation,” Fey announces. “You four stick together, us three will be able to handle ourselves if things go bad. If we can’t kill them we run, and then burn this place to the ground.”
“Why not just burn it down first?” A curious Mon asks. “Wouldn’t that be safer?”
“Infestations that fester and grow large enough can eventually become something akin to communities. They don’t always kill people they capture, sometimes opting to keep them alive until new fleshwalkers can…consume them,” Grunt says with a shudder. “It’s creepy to think about, all of them just acting like regular people.”
“I still think we should burn it down,” Mon argues. “One or two survivors wouldn’t make a difference.”
Deidra and Crimson look at her with harsh expressions. Echo, Vulture, and Grunt shrug at her idea. The honesty relieving them more than anything.
“Honestly I wish we could but we’re getting paid to destroy the infestation and rescue any survivors,” Fey says as she pats Mon’s head. “While we won’t be finding any we’re still obligated to check.”
Mon nods understandingly, receiving another head pat from Fey as thanks.
“Crimson, focus on covering your team and Vulture. Grunt and I have heavy enough armor that anything the fleshwalkers have shouldn’t do any lasting damage,” Fey orders as she pulls her scarf down, her helmet now placed on her head. “We shouldn’t have a problem with the numbers, but be prepared to run if that’s the case.”
“Why are you so sure that it’s been completely overrun?” Echo questions. “Maybe they managed to root out the fleshwalkers, I mean why go in expecting a bloodbath?”
“You’d be as skeptical as I am if you could smell what I do…” Fey says with a hidden grimace.
Without another word, Fey forces the heavy gate open revealing a rather ordinary village, the only oddity being that well over a dozen carriages were lined up next to the gate. As they walk towards the center of the town, they begin to notice eyes peeking at them through the windows.
“I’d like everyone to exit their homes, we aren’t here to hurt you. Just a standard check for fleshwalkers!” Fey yells. “If you refuse, we will do so forcefully!”
After a few moments of tense silence, nothing happens. Just as Fey was about to start checking buildings, a low rumbling sound began to echo through the village.
The first sign of combat became clear as Fey pulled up the visor on her helmet and set fire to a nearby building. Crimson turned to look and saw dozens of fleshwalkers flood out of it, burning like thin paper.
“Fey!” He yells, shooting a gas arrow into the next closest building.
Seeing his intentions Fey ignites the gas with her flames, causing the building to burn from within. Two of the fleshwalkers managed to escape the flames and rush towards the group, but are swiftly taken down by a heel kick from Vulture and a bash to the skull by Grunt.
With two of the twelve buildings in the village now burnt to the ground, the rumbling stops abruptly.
“Well, that should have been almost all of them right?” Vulture asks, her body still ready for a fight. “I mean the village couldn’t have held more people.”
“The carriages…” Grunt says suddenly, his eyes dilating as adrenaline begins to pour.
The rumbling returns as Grunt says this. The sound having gone from a soft rumble to a storming riot. Hundreds of fleshwalkers begin to pour out of the remaining buildings, some wearing remnants of clothing from the people they consumed. Some still looking like humans entirely.
“Get to the gates! Form a circle and keep them at bay!” Fey yells as she takes the head off the closest fleshwalker.
Everyone begins running towards the gates, killing more creatures as they go.
Crimson rains arrows into the horde that is beginning to surround them, prioritizing any about to strike his team. Despite the overwhelming numbers, they continue to move towards the village gates. Their saving grace being the fleshwalkers’ waning sense of self-preservation.
In the heat of the fight Crimson spots a rather large fleshwalker lunge at Echo. In an instant Crimson goes to grab a standard arrow from his quiver, but grabs nothing but air. The fleshwalker slams into her, both of them rolling out of the makeshift formation and into the hordes. Crimson draws his shortsword and attempts to rush into the crowd to save her, but is outpaced by Fey who dives in after bumping Crimson in the process. Crimson attempts to follow but is pulled back by Deidra who’s shield slams into a fleshwalker that tried to tackle Crimson.
“If Fey can’t save her than you can’t either!” She screams as her sword cuts into another attacker.
Crimson doesn’t have time to nod as he strikes another fleshwalker with his sword, his new skills being put to use as the blade pierces the creatures neck. Crimson looks up from the creature to see a burst of blue fire and Echo flying out of the horde, landing on the ground hard before rolling out of the gate. Grunt runs to the other side of the gate and begins pushing it closed, each of them slowly exiting the village walls while attempting to hold the horde inside.
“We have to wait for Fey!” Crimson screams as he slashes another fleshwalker. “She’s still in there.”
Either not hearing him or not caring Grunt continues to close the gate. Crimson looks at the pile of fleshwalkers now swarming on top of Fey, and then watches as they explode. Fey’s figure, as well as the fleshwalkers, being consumed by the flame.
Swallowing his regret, Crimson exits the village as Grunt struggles to close the gate. With rest of them killing anything that manages to slip through the gap. The door begins to slide open slowly as Grunt’s strength begins to fail him against the mass number of bodies pushing against him. Grunt falls to the ground as the gates swing open and horde descends upon the group. Until a large creature lands amongst them, a mighty roar coming from it.
Crimson smiles as Kitty begins to tear through the horde, the wydran’s overwhelming ferocity making quick work of the fleshwalkers smaller frames.
“Why didn’t we just have him do this to begin with?” Deidra asks, wiping her sword as she does.
“Same reason we couldn’t just burn it down, and if we hadn’t killed as many as we did I doubt even Kitty could’ve survived,” Grunt responds, holding his right arm as he walks over to them. “I need to do more arm workouts…”
Crimson watches as Kitty chomps down on the last fleshwalker. A smile on his face until an important detail resurfaces.
Deidra looks up from the now conscious yet slightly burned Echo and to Crimson who’s just kicked Grunt in the family jewels, forcing the larger man on his knees in surprise. The Butcher looks up surprised to see a short sword now pointed at his throat.
“What was that!” Crimson yells at the teary eyed Grunt.
“I bet you…my swinging arm…she’s chuckling right now.” Grunt says as he swallows the vomit that came up.
“Hey ranger, cool it! Vulture yells, standing up for Grunt’s decision. “She knew she had a better chance, why do you think she even saved the dwarf in the first place? Fey’s not de-“
Before she could finish a clawed gauntlet presses against her own throat, the blade like fingers slipping underneath her armor.
“I wouldn’t say her name if I were you…” A very angry looking Mon says as her claws draw a bit of blood from Vulture. “This armor is pretty weak, and I am curious if you could regrow your head.”
Deidra watches the altercation in shock, the reactions from Crimson and Mon not something she expected. As she watches she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns expecting to see an upright Echo but is surprised as Fey’s blue eyes stare back at her. A fresh gash across the Siren’s face.
“Any idea what’s going on?” Fey asks in a hushed tone, sitting down next to Deidra. “Who’s your money on?”
Deidra looks at Fey, her expression going from shocked to ecstatic. She turns to tell the others but a hand clamps around her mouth as she tries.
“Not yet, I want to see where this goes…” Fey says with an impish grin.
Deidra nods as she looks back to the altercation.
“One reason I shouldn’t kill you!” Crimson screams at Grunt. “Just one!”
“Because you aren’t someone to do that,” Grunt says as he stands, despite the blade still leveled at his throat. “I can tell you don’t have the stones to kill someone in cold blood. So why don’t you put that away and we can move on?”
A struggle is apparent in Crimson’s eyes. Eventually his rage falters as he returns the blade to his sheathe, allowing Grunt to breathe easy. Until the sound of scratching metal and a silenced cry of pain alerts him to the enraged rogue now out for blood, her attention away from the sliced throat of Vulture and directed solely at him.
Grunt reaches to his back and manages to put his weapon in between him and the claw but the power behind the strike cleaves the maul in half. Dropping the weapon; he throws his leg out and catches Mon in the chin with a kick but Mon drags her claws along his armored leg, nicking his skin in the process. Before he can react another claw swipes at his head, knocking his helmet off and clawing the side of his jaw. He tries to throw a punch but the attack is deftly dodged by Mon who plants both her feet into his stomach, the power of the kick knocking him to the ground. He looks up from his dazed state and seeing a claw struggling to reach his skull. Holding it at bay is a smiling Fey, and for a moment Grunt was more fearful of that smile than the enraged cat.
“I do believe that’s the match.” She says.
Grunt lays his head on the ground with a grunt, his life saved by Fey yet again. Mon slowly turns around and looks at Fey in disbelief.
“I was hoping you’d know better than to try and kill a member of Stena,” Fey says as she releases Mon’s gauntlet. “Though you did do well in trying to, I guess I should stop berating you on your choice of mu-“
Fey has the air knocked out of her as Mon suddenly hug tackles her.
“What have I said about that? You can’t do that in a mission. Remember you’re trying…to be a…professional…ah hell,” Fey says, looking down at Mon whose eyes are threatening to fill with tears. “Ok, just this once. No crying though, remember the rule? Anyone who sees you cry…”
“Has to die.” Mon says with a giggle, her watery eyes drying up.
Fey and Mon stand up and look around to see everyone looking in the opposite direction. Eventually they all turn back and look at them.
Mon face suddenly loses all color as she looks towards where she…killed Vulture. Instead of a corpse, she can see Vulture with an annoyed look on her face and a large amount of blood on her clothes.
“You owe me a new outfit,” Vulture says. “And these jeans weren’t cheap.”
“So is anyone else gonna kill each other?” Echo says with a skeptical face. “If so do it after we leave, I need a nap.”
“That depends on whether or not you’re going to get blindsided by another monster.” Deidra says with a chuckle as she helps Echo to her feet.
Echo rolls her eyes at the rebuttal, annoyed but still happy.
“How did you even survive?” Crimson asks Fey. “I watched it, I’m not sure anyone could have.”
Fey blows a bit of fire out from behind her mask as she points at his empty quiver.
“Might have stolen the other special arrow of yours, that thing sure is potent,” Fey says with a grin. “Though you’re going to need more space for arrows.”
“Fire proof, I honestly should have figured that.” Crimson says with a face palm.
“Better to assume the worst,” Fey says as she walks up to Crimson, then thumps him on the head harshly. “But next time you threaten a fellow member without proper cause I will gladly beat you within an inch of your life.”
Fey then turns to Mon with the same anger in her eyes, showing the threat wasn’t just for Crimson.
“I suggest we get moving, shouldn’t take more than a day to get back to HQ,” Grunt suggests. “I say we walk for an hour or two then camp, we need rest after this botch.”
Everyone nods at the suggestion, each of them collecting themselves as they walk. Eventually they choose to camp at their original spot, the same one Crimson hadn’t slept well in.