[Flashback] Fourteen Days Later (Solo)

[Tessa Poe]

Continued From: Death Round the Wagons Timestamp: 36th of Spring, Early Evening. Location: Along the Karbin Road Tessa took a deep breath and started to count down from ten while trying to remind herself that it wasn’t Gregir’s fault. It really wasn’t, she knew he was only looking out for her, but that didn’t make it any less infuriating. The way he was almost constantly hovering over her, asking her if she was alright, it was getting to the point of suffocating her. She wasn’t a kid anymore, and yes she’d… well there’d been, when he’d… that didn’t matter. What mattered was she was fine now! Almost fine at least, her ribs barely hurt unless she did something silly with them and Mother Trevile had said the stitches could come out next week, if not before then. She didn’t need babying, it was done, over with, finished. Not that she could tell him any of that, he’d only ask if there was anything she needed and that’d just make her want to scream at him all the more… and she really didn’t want to hurt his feeling like that. He really was just trying to look out for her, same as he’d always done. “I’m fine Gregir, really, I can manage now.” she replied with a little more acid in her tone than she’d have liked, but she couldn’t help it. Just looking at him, knowing full well what he was probably thinking, was driving her mad. All she wanted was to be left alone for a few chimes, why didn’t anyone seem to get that? It wasn’t like she was the only one who’d gotten hurt either, he was still wearing that sling, and one of the other guards was laid up with a broken leg, not to mention the long gash across Mr Jones’ forehead. Gregir didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded and back to the fire all the same. As she watched his departing back all she could think was how this was all such bullshyke! What did she have to do to convince everyone that everything was alright? Tessa pushed off from the wagon she’d been leaning against and walked further away from the fire with a huff of irritation, her buckler making a muted clatter against her scabbard as her eyes deliberately skipped over the obviously patched are of the canvas covering of the rear wagon. What she needed was a walk. She wouldn’t go too far, maybe just to the copse of trees she could see. That should be fine, it wasn’t too far from the caravan’s campsite for the night so no-one’d get worried about her. Besides, after two weeks spent in the back of the wagons or hobbling carefully round the camp she was starting to get restless. Decision made she set off at a quickish pace, being careful to keep her breathing easy, as much as she might protest otherwise she knew she wasn’t entirely healed and she really didn’t want to aggravate her ribs again. She was sick and tired of wincing with every breath she took. She’d not looked at them since… it had happened, but Mother Trevile said the bruising was fading nicely at least and she was usually right about that sort of thing. The walk would do her good though, let her stretch her legs and all, especially with the pleasant early evening breeze scudding over the grass lands out here. To her frustration though it couldn’t have been more than a few chimes before she found herself starting to feel the strain of keeping her pace, the various still healing cuts starting to flare up and make themselves known again, and she was only half way there. This was ridiculous! She was better than this, she knew that, it like that, that bastard had hurt her that badly, it wasn’t! She gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep moving, one foot in front of the other, her long strides speeding her towards the trees that seemed to be moving further away with each step she took. It didn’t matter though, she wasn’t going to stop, she wasn’t, not ‘til she’d reached them and that was that. By the time she finally managed it though she was exhausted, sweat matting her hair and dripping down the back of her neck, the last few tottering steps she’d taken seeming tortuously slow with the deep ache of her ribs and the slash across burning spitefully. She half collapsed against one of the trees, desperately breathing through her nose, not letting herself take the great gasps of air that she so wanted to for fear of doing more damage to herself. She brought the back of her hand up to wipe the sweat from her eyes, feeling the little shivers run through her legs as exhaustion threatened. It wasn’t supposed to be like this; she wasn’t supposed to be like this! She growled to herself as she forced herself to stand upright, placing her hands on her head to ease her breathing, slowly filling her lungs before letting the air back out again, holding herself steady, simply refusing to give in to herself. She was better than this, and she knew it too.

[Tessa Poe]

Tessa whirled suddenly at the sound of a laugh on the breeze, just the same as before, that harsh, grating sound that held no joy whatsoever. Her hand dropped to her sword as she snarled, half drawing the blade as she looked for the sound’s source, her body tensed and ready for whatever was to come. There was no-one there, she was alone out here… she could’ve sworn that she’d heard… him… but that was impossible, he was… he was dead, dead and gone, and she’d been the one to send him on his way. “Stupid… you know it couldn’t be…” Tessa’s bitter mutter was cut off by a white hot rush of pain from her ribs, followed by a sickening dizziness that almost had her staggering. “Gods you really are stupid aren’t you?” she gasped as she finally gave in and sank slowly to the floor, resting her back against the tree, her hand carefully trying to sooth the pain away, impossible as she knew that was. She’d just rest here for a chime or so, ‘til it eased off again, and then she’d head back. She’d better apologise to Gregir too… he really had been good about all of this. She sighed softly, it wasn’t like she could explain it to him though, or anyone for that matter. How could she when she didn’t get it herself? Ever since he’d… it wasn’t worth thinking about. He wasn’t worth her time or her concern, she’d done Mizahar a favour when she’d… done what she’d done, hadn’t she? So why couldn’t she stop thinking about it? Why did she keep seeing the life vanish from those chestnut eyes, silently accusing her. It'd her or him, she knew that, and she knew which of the two she prefered... so why? Her head thudded gently into the tree behind her as she groaned softly, she just didn’t know what to do. What could she do? There was no-one she could talk to to try figure this out with, so what did that leave? She reached up to run her hand through her hair, gathering it back into its rough pony tail again, grateful at least that her aching ribs had faded again. It was probably time for her to head back, if anyone had noticed she’d gone they might start worrying, for all that she could see the caravans from here, lit as they were by the camp fire, the others probably couldn’t see her beneath the shadows of the trees. She braced herself and climbed slowly to her feet, putting her troubling thoughts to one side, and was about to set off when she heard something behind her, and this time it wasn’t her imagination. There’d been a little shrill call, and then an answering one. At first she took it to be some sort of bird, but the problem with that was that birds didn’t make that much noise in the bushes. Tessa turned and started to back away from the trees, her hand once again gripping her sword’s hilt as something, or rather a pair of somethings, emerged from the trees. Whatever they were, they weren’t human. They were the right shape, if you cocked your head and squinted, but they seemed to be covered in the dark soil and that grew round here, the occasional flint standing out… and one of them… was that a paving slab covering its chest? It was far too square to be a natural piece of rock. What in the hells were they? “Ummm… hello?” She tried, not wanting to startle whatever these things were, it wasn’t like they’d done anything hostile… though they did look undeniably strange. Was this some sort of magic maybe? It had to be magic, there was no way these things could move around as they apparently could without it. Wait, did that one have a blackberry bush growing out of its back? Why weren’t they doing anything? She started to back away again, angling herself towards the caravan, or at least where she thought the caravan was. She didn’t want to check, that’d mean taking her eyes off of the pair of them and she wasn’t comfortable with that thought. They still weren’t moving, that was good right? Maybe they just lived in these trees and were here to let her know she wasn’t welcome. Sort of defending their turf, or something. She should be fine then, just as long as she put enough distance between herself and them, all she had to do was not panic. It wasn’t like she’d be able to run far anyway, she’d probably end up in a heap of pain before she’d made it a few yards. Another thing to thank him for. Just as that hope was rising, that she seemed to be in the clear, the pair of them screeched in unison and came scrambling forwards, their almost too long limbs reaching for her and tipped with what looked like very, very sharp claws.

[Tessa Poe]

Tessa let out a yell of surprise and fear as she staggered backwards, her hand dropping to draw her sword free of its scabbard, to bring it to the ready position her Da had shown her while the other reached for the straps of her buckler and flicked them off so she could fend off whatever these things were. Well that’d been the plan anyway, but the shot of pain across her ribs left her fumbling the blade awkwardly free and her buckler simply dropped to the floor beneath her, leaving her wide open to the things’ assault. She heard rather than saw the whistle of the first one’s set of claws past her face, quickly followed by a burning sensation down the length of her upper as the second’s cut a shallow gash down it. The cold realisation hit her that If she hadn’t have been turning to draw her sword it probably would have gutted her. A whimper of fear escaped her lips as she tried to keep her eye on both of the things, neither of which hesitated for even a moment before they lashed out again. It was she could do to back away again, hoping that her boots wouldn't find something to trip over. It did mean she had the time to bring her sword up between them, hoping that the sight of it might at least make them pause, even for a moment. It didn’t. One of them started to circle to the left, trying to flank her, while the other flicked out with its claws again, her blood still dripping from them just as it ran down her arm, making her grip around the hilt of her sword feel worryingly slick. Still she brought it up, turning past the first blow and quickly flipping her blade so that its edge would meet the thing’s claws. It was simple move, and one that meant she wasn’t going to pull on her ribs, but still the jolt of the impact sent a shiver down her arm as metal met stone with a muted ring and a shower of sparks. The thing screeched again and stepped away from her, apparently she’d hurt it, somehow at least, but it wasn’t bleeding as far as she could tell… but wait, where was the other one? She heard its steps coming from behind her and instinctively threw herself forwards into a clumsy roll, desperate to avoid the claws that scythed behind her but still feeling them score yet more cuts over her shoulder. She landed in a heap, her ribs protesting as she stifled a groan. She could feel something warm over them too… it felt like… shyke. She’d ripped the stitches hadn’t she? At least her roll had carried her past the first one though, depositing her where her buckler lay. She scooped it up, pushing it up and forwards blindly in the hope that she’d meet whatever attack she knew had to be coming for her. There was a crunch and she found herself driven down by the blow, practically pinned as she whipped the hair from her eyes, seeing the things claws driving through the wood of her buckler, splitting it in places. Its other hand was raised high, about to come down on her, and as she stared up at it she knew she couldn’t avoid it. For the second time in as many weeks she was going to die, and strangely she wasn't afraid. She should have been afraid shouldn't she? Or maybe it was just that she knew she should have let him do it. What was the point in struggling? Better to just give up, let it be quick at least. Time seemed to slow again as the thing’s arm started to fall towards her, its claws splayed, and her eyes closed for a moment. She heard that mocking, humourless laugh again, echoing through her mind and she gritted her teeth, her lips pulling back as her eyes opened wide, shining with rage. No, it wasn’t going to be like this. She wouldn’t let it be like this. She snarled, her grip tightening on her sword as she pulled on her buckler, dragging the thing’s arm closer to her as she swung her blade with everything she had left at it. The aches and pains of her body vanished in a sea of sheer anger as her sword moved in a shining arc, slamming into the thing’s arm and hacking into one of the cracks that seemed to run over its body, severing it midway along its forearm. It shrieked again and stumbled as she surged to her feet, the sudden loss of weight on her making the movement easy as it collapsed to the floor with the sudden loss of support and her boot slamming into its ankle to help it on its way. She turned to face the oncoming one, the arm that had been lodged in her buckler disintegrating, turning to dust as she raised it and her sword. She wasn’t going to sit and wait for it, she was going to kill it, and the other one, and anyone or anything else that came for her. She'd kill them all. With a howl she threw herself forwards, her eyes locked on the thing, her bucker leading the way, punching between its outspread arms to slam into its chest. It’s arms wrapped around her in hug that she knew would end with more blood as she pushed it backwards, throwing its slashes off the mark as she punched forwards with her sword, driving it up into the thing’s neck. She heard the point grate against stone as it scraped for a moment before finding its way into one of the cracks and pushing home. She twisted the blade savagely before dragging it free, the thing dropping lifelessly to the floor as she turned and set herself to face the other one she'd left on the floor, her breath coming in deep gasps, heedless of the damage she was probably doing to herself.

[Tessa Poe]

Her eyes were devoid of pity as they looked on at the thing struggling to get to its feet, seemingly confused by the loss of one of its arms. Good. She tensed and threw herself forwards, her boots digging into the turf as she ran at it before she threw her leading foot forwards with a savage kick to its ribs, throwing the thing onto its back. She followed through, stepping it over it and dropping onto her knees, her legs stradling its waist, her buckler’s edge slamming down into its arm with a crunching splintering sound, pinning it to the floor as she screamed and spat at it and it did the same in return. That is until she plunged her sword down into its chest, leaning her weight on it as she drove it into it and the ground beneath it up to the hilt. Apparently it was dead, but she wasn’t done yet. Her lips were pulled into a rictus snarl, her vision swimming before her, she wasn’t going to let him get away with what he’d done, she was going to make him pay! She left her blade embedded in its chest and took hold of her buckler in both hands, raising it above her head before bringing its edge crashing down onto the things head, and then again, and again, still screaming and howling her wordless hatred for him. She didn’t stop until long after the thing was dust. She came back to herself, kneeling over a pile of dust and dents in the ground, her buckler half buried in the sod and gasping for breath… and then there was pain, everywhere. She collapsed to one side, tears coming and half blinding her as her body started to remind her just why she shouldn’t have done that. How long had it been? She felt drained, utterly drained. The sweat pouring of her skin left a chill in its wake and she shivered, leaving her groaning in pain again. She had to do something, she had to stop the bleeding, she knew that, but she couldn’t move. Shivers of exertion ran through her limbs as she managed to roll onto her side, trying to slow her breathing again, it hurt too much to do anything else. Slowly she sat up, seeing the state of her buckler through her blurred eyes. The thing was practically in bits, had she… she’d never been like… what was she supposed to… she drew the back of her hand over her eyes, wiping the tears away. She had to sort herself out first, that was the important thing. She could worry about everything else later. Gingerly she reached down and pealed her tunic away from her ribs and pulled it over her head, wincing again as it stuck a little at first. Her eyes didn't stray once to the mottled scar tissue that decorated the other side of her torso. She knew she'd have to look after the largest wound first, and that undeniably the one with the ripped stitches over her ribs. She reached into the pouch at her waist, finding the little roll of bandages that her Da had made her promise she’d always carry. She knew she had to clean herself first, before she strapped herself up… and then she’d see Mother Trevile about the stitches when she got back… that would be best. She lifted her water skin free and unstopped, wetting the end of the bandage roll and carefully wiping over the top of the freshly re-opened gash, wincing and hissing in pain as it caught against the ragged ends of the torn stitches. It had to be done though, she didn’t want to catch the rot, anything but that. After it was clean as she figured she could make it she wadded a pad of bandage and pressed it against her ribs, nearly biting through her lip to stop herself crying out again. No more crying, never again. She wasn't weak, she wasn't, and she'd prove it to him. She couldn't help but laugh as she turned her attention to the scratches down her arm, how was she supposed to prove anything to a dead man? She repeated the process again, washing and bandaging, carefully winding the white fabric over the cuts 'til she'd covered them all, humming a little madly all the while. It wasn’t long before she’d bound herself up, finding it strange to look at the cuts and slash marks in her own skin. It didn't feel quite real, as if she was looking at someone else's body all ripped and torn up as it was. And It was funny too, what with how there seemed to be more bandage than skin now. She giggled quietly, pulling her blood stained and torn tunic back on over her head, it was better than nothing, it wasn’t like she could go naked… then people would see her nakedness, and she couldn't have that. Especially since she should probably be getting back now, someone might be worrying about her and it was getting darker, it shouldn’t be this dark now, should it? She blinked rapidly, her vision clearing again as she clambered slowly to her feet, tottering slightly from side to side and feeling really quite lightheaded. She leant forwards to retrieve her sword and almost staggered forwards, the weight of her head seeming to drag her downwards. “Right… no leaning…” She giggled again, squatting to retrieve her blade and to scoop up her buckler before turning towards the light of the fires in the distance. It really hadn’t been that short of a walk after all, had it? “Sooner I get started the sooner I’ll get there.” she slurred, holding her eyes wide open to fight off the sudden rush of drowsiness. With a vague nod in agreement with herself she took the first step and nearly howled in pain again. Why did her foot hurt so much? What had she...? Oh, of course. Kicking rocks was a bad idea wasn't it? She braced herself and took another couple of steps, carefully keeping her weight on her good foot as she limped off towards the welcoming firelight, there’d be people there… friends, and Ma and Da. She’d be safe again, wouldn’t she? Gods she wanted to feel safe again... but where in the world was safe?

[Templar]

Tessa: [Weapon] Short sword: 3 – Dodging: 2 – Buckler: 4 – Unarmed Combat: 3 – Medicine: 2 Lore: Fighting when Injured – Adrenalin Rushes their effects – The Aftermath of an Adrenalin Rush Additional notes: Great thread! Well written fight! Anything you think I missed, drop me a PM.