A long patrol.[Open]

[Corvo]

Timestamp: 85th day of summer. 510 AV

An early morning misting had begun as Corvo and the rest of the fang had set out into he jungle for a simple and routine patrol into the jungle. They had planned to only be gone for a few days, though plans didn’t always come to plan. Corvo found this particular part of his job the most interesting. He was very familiar with the terrain and knew many of the ins and outs of the jungle but he could always enjoy the scenery of the grand and majestic jungle. Gray skies loomed over he jungle the canopy foretelling a downpour that would be coming down soon. Wonderful.

He had hoped for the rain to hold off for a few hours at the very least. As they started their trek into the jungle Corvo glanced around, trying to remember who was who and if he met them before. Corvo had difficulty placing names and faces as he often only half paid attention to his fellows in the barracks and the tedium that was their dull lives. Many of them adhered to a strict regiment of training and whatever else filled there days. He preferred to add a tad bit of variety to things every once and a while and a trek into the jungle would provide massive amounts of variety in all likely hood. As he looked around he managed to place a single face. The face of the fang leader.

She was a tall woman with a rigid and uncompromising face that radiated a complete and utter lack of sympathy. The rest were faces of those he had run into before, but cared to little about to care to expend the energy needed to recall names. His thoughts eventually wandered back to the jungle. He was somewhere in the middle of the group, thus earning him no real responsibilities in a tactical sense. He had been experiencing the oddest sense of melancholy over the last couple of days and he had no idea why. He believed he was suffering from a lack of fruit. For the past three days he had been eating meat for the most part, opting not to buy or go out and find more fruit and simply wait until it was time to go out on another long patrol.

He knew it couldn’t be long, he hadn’t gone on a lengthy expedition for over three weeks. The group started to pick up the pace, if only slightly, as they moved farther and farther away from Taloba and into the jungle wilderness. He became more alert as they delved deeper into the looming jingle. He constantly scanned the ground, avoiding the occasional stick to avoid the unpleasantness of the large cracking sound that would soon follow and alert the creatures of the jungle to their presence and avoided the occasional branch or two. So far it was a relatively…smooth trip.

[Sheika]

Sheika was roughly ten paces behind Corvo. He followed the taller Myrian male, each of his own steps were to be dropped precisely in the same spot that Corvo initially dropped his own, as to avoid any misstep or stumbling. Such foolish actions would not be tolerated in a situation like this. Sheika, being in the back of the group, was one of several to watch around them, he in particular was watching directly behind them. As the man walked, he would occasionally toss his gazes over his shoulder, taking large nasal inhales, and would, of course, always scan the jungles to the best of his abilities. Every tree they passed near, he would glance up at the limbs to ensure that there wasn't some jungle cat ready to pounce on them that, somehow, every other member of the fang had missed. Of course, each limb turned out to be void of any true threat. Still though, the Witch Doctor continued to watch the forest in an almost paranoid manner. Each twig that snapped swiftly forced his gaze into the direction, half of the time he saw nothing, the other half it was a member of the fang itself. Sheika wasn't typically part of a fang, years ago his required ventures into the jungles were no longer required, but he served as a replacement today, as another Myrian (one probably significantly more adept at hunting) male had taken ill. That and there was always the possibility of a Myrian dying. Sheika, although he wouldn't never openly admit this, hoped for such a thing. It wasn't that he detested other Myrians, not at all, they were his people, but he thought that he could make such marvelous uses out of them, their bodies, that it would be worth the loss of a great warrior. Surely Myri thought well of Malediction. Sheika held his dagger in his right hand, his grip tightening and untightening, the fingers methodically squeezing at the grip, the images of driving the elongated knife between Corvo's shoulder blades tantalizing. Sheika hadn't tested his abilities on a corpse in such a long time, he wondered when he would get his chance, or if he should make his own. Snap! Sheika turned around again to watch behind the group, another unsettling noise cast out Sheika's original thoughts of cold-blooded murder of the only person he mildly knew anything about in the fang, which he did not really regret having whatsoever. Sheika had this odd feeling they were being followed, but he wasn't going to even dare say something to the leader without first seeing the thing, assuming they were followed. Besides, chances were that if they were being stalked, the leader, or the other watchers, had already picked up on it. Sheika, his skills slightly fading over the years because of his dedications to spirits and the like, was probably the least useful one in the fang, another detail he cared not about.

[Rage]

There were only six of them clustered together as a group: Corvo, Sheika the witch doctor, 3 other soldiers and Kreesha, fang leader. The other four the woman had sent on ahead in pairs to forge a path before them, for the summer rains had surely transformed the land, making if almost unrecognizable to the self-proclaimed rulers of the jungle, the Myrians. Stomping grounds of beasts had shifted because of the encroachment of the flooding Kandukta Basin: herbivores sought new areas to forage in while those which preyed on them adjusted their territories accordingly. And the Basin's waters brought its of set of problems, expanding the range of all sorts of serpents and crocodiles, hippo herds and hosts of pests like insects and leeches. Already, clans like the Snapping Jaws, responsible for watching the population and spreading of the crocodiles, were having a field day making sure that the fauna did not screw itself over by unwittingly walking into traps laid all around the Taloba or somehow infiltrating their jungle city. Fortunately, this particular fang was far from such troubles as they patrolled due east of the city. This was not to say they were having it easy; they just had to contend with threats different from those found in or near the Basin. Everyone felt the sensation of being stalked, of that there was no doubt. Kreesha, her face stern and uncompromising, was already frowning, cursing that her scouts failed to detect the presence of whatever was shadowing them much earlier. She was on foot today, having left her massive tiger in Taloba for it was heavy with its cubs. She wanted to confront whatever was trailing them but nobody could tell her where their unseen follower or followers might be coming from. Irritated, she made a decision based on her observation of the situation alone. The two scout pairs were ahead of them and they would have signaled with a tiger-roarer if they ran across any threats so that direction was eliminated from her list. There was mostly silence from either side of them but she doubted their tail was there. Silence only occurred when the jungle felt a threat in their wake, and the silence that boxed them from either side was not the silence of dread but that of anticipation. That left the area immediately behind them; whoever or whatever was trailing them would be there. “You and you,” Kreesha called out to Sheika and Corvo, a not so random choice for the both of them were lagging at the back of the group. Corvo she knew to always have a wandering mind when yearning for fruit but the man called Sheika was an unknown, a late replacement for one of her men who became sick after eating a bad batch of mushrooms. He did not seem to be a regular soldier, having difficulty keeping up with the rest of the men. “Check out our rear a couple of hundred yards to see what manner of beast has been following us. If it's a danger to the fang, kill it if you can. If not, lead it here so we can bash their heads in together.” She emphasized her words by pulling out one of the nasty looking morningstars hanging from her back, the heavy spiked ball swinging idly by its chain as she shifted her grip on it. “Try not to come back running and screaming like witless humans,” Kreesha added, her mood coloring her words. She then directed the rest of the soldiers to prepare the battlefield should the foe be led to their group. It was a clear dismissal for Corvo and Sheika to get on with their orders.

[Corvo]

Corvo gave a simple nod in response and started moving. Usually he would have given some sort of witty comment laced with sarcasm but the lack of fruit over recent days has made him unusually moody and he was afraid he would say something less funny and more insulting. Never a good idea to insult ones fang leader unless you wanted a foot shoved up your butt. Something told him that wouldn’t be a very pleasant experience. Or even a mildly comfortable one. He set off to do his assigned task; half hoping there was some beast he could take his fruit related frustration out on. He had nearly forgotten that the witch doctor was with them. He seemed more like the "stay in his hut and come up with ways to kill you" type. The more the merrier. Maybe he could be used as bait. Corvo still wasn't entirely comfortable around him, especially after the last encounter the two had. He moved quickly, only glancing at Sheika. The silence of the jungle pressed in form all sides. The buzzing of insects was gone. The squawking of the jungle birds was non-existent. Corvo didn’t mind the lack of squawking. He often found such sounds incredibly obnoxious, dreadful for such brightly colored creatures, damn birds. He often spent time coming up with plans to shut birds up. This often led to the idea of a bird kabob that was lightly seared with a touch of mikmik spice. "I really should try that..." This was probably one of the few times that he actually wanted to eat some form of meat. The lack of fruit was getting to him. He snapped back to attention as he began to realize that his mind was wandering off to an almost completely unrelated subject. “Wandering minds mean wandering limbs…” He mumbled to remind himself of the price of being inattentive while in the land of the beast. He didn't want to end like a witless human after all. He could feel the eyes of something on him, fixated upon his neck. He knew it simply his imagination manifesting itself but he saw it as an omen. He looked all around eyeing every shadow. Corvo stopped for a moment, waiting for the witch doctor to catch up. Instinct screamed for him to keep moving and put distance between himself and whatever predator was out there. Instinct was coward…unless it was telling you to stab someone of course. He liked instinct then. “Can you feel it Sheika? Something wants lunch and I’m sure we look like incredibly appetizing meals…separated from the herd in the jungle. Only way out to run if things turn ugly.” His voice contained an incredibly inappropriate upbeat tone underlined with an unusual steeliness. He crept on, this time moving at a much slower pace, prepping himself for an attack, he was hoping the witch doctor was doing the same.

[Sheika]

Sheika, upon hearing the sudden firm voice of his female fang Leader, spun around to glance at her. Her speech startled him, not because of what she said (though it did deserve a large dose of concern in his mind), but simply because she broke what silence the traveling Myrians strove for. It meant one thing to Sheika, 'Whatever the problem was happened to be more pressing than the issue of silence'. Sheika offered a swift nod as he turned again, now to face Corvo, whom he allowed to move ahead. Sheika may not have been quite the warrior as the others, but he was no fool (opposed to what several assumed mind you). He would stay behind Corvo as they watched the hind of the Fang. If the better warrior was the first to collide with whatever force that made them all so cautious, it could allow for Sheika to either come in for a surprise attack, or at the very least, allowed Sheika room to run back to the fang, and probably lead whatever beast that would without a doubt maul Corvo to pieces (such a waste of a good body, Sheika almost depressed himself thinking about such images) back to the group to beat down. Sheika's survival was increased by this. It was an odd phenomenon though. Sheika, in the past, had heard the jungles instantly shift to a silence. He had, very rarely, been startled by such a shift though. Being in such danger however, and having every sound of nature become dead, was a familiar, yet still unnerving feeling. To Corvo, the sound was a slight relaxing shift, but it only spelled foreshadow. What was silent? The dead of course. Whatever was coming, brought death. That's why everything in the nearby area either fled, hid, or shut itself the hell up, because they knew better. Did Corvo? Did Sheika? Did the Fang? Sheika felt confidence that he was quiet enough, he had been straining to even keep his breathing as faint and soft as could be, but Corvo? He couldn't say. That men seemed bothered, angry even, frustrated perhaps. Whatever it was, Sheika feared he wouldn't be logical. Sheika, upon hearing Corvo's question (which ended up sounding more like Corvo just talking to himself, perhaps to calm himself) he would nod, the only action he would give. It was true though, there was that ominous feeling. The sort of feeling you get when you find yourself in the middle of a nightmare that only grows worse, darker, longer, colder, yet no matter how twisted it became, you were locked inside of it, a slave to the fears that were neither logical, nor understandable, but just were. Sheika felt a chill corrupt his skin as he once again peered around the vicinity as his hand moved up to the skull on his head, his mother's skull shaped and twisted into a crude ornament. He would not run from this. His mother had raised him better than to run in fear of something. Running was fine, but running from fear was never excused. Sheika felt his fingers wrap around his dagger as he tightened his grip, he would do the best he could to be ready for this nightmare.

[Rage]

As Kreesha and the remainder of the fang drew their weapons to prepare for a possible skirmish in the wet jungle, Corvo and Sheik scouted back the way they came, towards the direction their fang leader had indicated. While they had been quiet for the most part, every step they took that further separated them from the others only made the jungle around them quieter...as if it was waiting with bated breath what would happen to the pair. Every direction they checked for their mysterious stalker revealed only the leafy foliage and rain-disturbed detritus, every shadow they peered at remained dark and unmoving, refusing to divulge whatever secret they hid within them. The paranoia the two Myrians felt would gnaw at them, feeding whatever fear or doubts they held in their hearts. They were being followed, yes. But by what? They could find no sign, for the jungle looked the same everywhere they turned. A slight shuffling sound from behind caused both the warrior and the witch doctor to whirl at the source of the disturbance. Only rippling leaves greeted their sights. As the movement stilled, their surroundings grew more quiet, if that were even possible. Familiar as they were to the ways of the jungle, both knew this was the calm before the storm, the ringing silence before the clash of arms. Each stood closer to the other, back to back, their weapons bared and ready as they scanned the undergrowth. The shrill cries started then, screaming and reverbing all around them. There was no single source of the sound it seemed. And then they saw it. Eyes. In the shadows of the foliage were eyes. Many, many eyes, staring malevolently at them with a hunger that promised a death filled with pain and anguish. They were the source of the cries and there was great number of them, at least a score. Most of the eyes clustered around the area where the two Myrians would have gone to had they not stopped, though several were already moving to surround them, cutting off their retreat from behind, isolating them from their fang. They could still break through if they chose, for they were not fully enclosed yet, but the opportunity for such grew slimmer by the second. Alternatively, they could fight whatever beasts the evil eyes belonged to, but it seemed a suicidal move with a ten to one odds in favor of the beasts. Granted, Corvo and Sheika have yet to glimpse what manner of beast they faced, but direct conflict seemed like it would most likely result in both their deaths.

[Corvo]

Corvo moved backwards with an overwhelming sense of urgency. He knew they were being surrounded. He also knew that the chances of them walking away from this were slim even when being optimistic. They needed a plan. Luckily a rather simple one came to mind. Run like hell and fight dirty. He doubted he would have to tell Sheika what they would do next. Unless he was the suicidal type, then that might pose a problem. Corvo was pretty sure he wasn’t though. He was hoping that anyway. He turned and started moving as quickly as his feet could carry him. He let out a shrill cry, mimicking the sound of a fox in distress almost perfectly. He continued to move towards the location of his fang, hoping that the were on there way. It shouldn’t take them long to arrive as they were only a few hundred yards away. Corvo sped up, his feet pounding the ground he didn’t know if these things were following him or not but an overwhelming sense of dread had overcame him. He dared not look over his shoulder for fear that he would see a horde of beat nipping at hills or some other gruesome thing. Unbeknownst to Corvo the dread did not lay behind him but in front of him. He had stopped watching the jungle floor for the tiniest fraction of a second. The bottom of his foot had grazed a gnarled vine on the jungle floor opening a small gash on his foot. He stumbled, wasting time, and regained his balance. He felt the eyes of something on him as he continued to move. He had slowed down by some degree; the gash on his foot would make him easy prey for whatever was following him. He fell into a defensive state of mind, keeping his weapon much closer to his body. His eyes scanned every shadow, seeing enemies everywhere. His ears were open to the world. Listening for the slightest of sounds.

[Sheika]

"Perhaps this is as good of a time as any to reveal your dreams." Sheika felt their backs collide roughly, but not absurdly strong, they had moved quickly, back to back, ready to defend each others' blindspots from any threat. Any threat except for being so incredibly outnumbered that is. There was a certain instinctual feeling that had gripped them both, fight or flight. In fact, that was the way of the jungles wasn't it? Raw instinct, fight to fight, fight to flight, right now it would have been beyond foolish to attempt the former. Even trying to flee seemed impossible, and even as odd as Sheika was, using Corvo as bait didn't feel right, or at least not yet, when their rather disadvantaged odds managed to get even worse, he might consider it, but for now, they were better use to each other alive and together. Sheika slowly turned his head to glance over his shoulder, watching the other Myrian from the corner of his eye. Sheika couldn't deny common sense, Corvo's chances of survival were better than his, without a doubt. Sheika was going to have to follow him, Corvo, his leader until... if they made it back to the fang. Moments later they were in a dead sprint (a fitting name perhaps) towards their fang. Sheika could see himself as he was no more than one of those eyes watching them, his body moving as quickly as they could manage, his arms rocking back in forth in unison with the opposing side of his body's leg. Each step threw out a quivering in his exposed leg muscles as they pounded the ground, vibrations, tremors, lifting from the earth and through the calf, the thigh, and rocking the very insides with a pain numbing excitement. Each time he pushed off the jungle floor with his leg, he felt a brief sense of relief as his body was soaring through the air until the opposing foot slapped against the water soaked ground. Water... Sheika thought, remembering nearly a full season ago when he hit the ground when training with Corvo, a slick slippery surface, he wouldn't so easily fall down this time. What was this strange, almost exotic feeling he had? Excitement? Joy? Ecstacy? Confidence is what it was, he was examining the very basics of his body running, the thriving life shivering underneath the skin, underneath the muscles, but there was something else he felt. Strength, endurance, something that he had, but was not his. Mother? Sheika could find no other explanation, the skull, his mother's, it was fueling him, even only if slightly, he was certain (whether it was true or not) that the bone was blessing him with his deceased mother's abilities. Corvo felt his legs carrying him easily, several feet per second, right behind Corvo, possibly not even three yards, which now might have been a mistake as Corvo bit the dust, one might say. Tripped and fell, obviously an obstruction in Sheika's path. He had to move, but to slow down would likely spell death, even at his pace death was likely. No, he had been practicing for something like this. Sheika glanced upwards, a low hanging branch rested above Corvo. That was his ticket. During his uncanny running burst, Sheika would leap into his air, again he could have sworn he felt the essence of power within his body, pushing him farther than he could push himself, carrying him faster than he could run, seeing more than he could without it see. His hand reached out to grab the branch, with success at that, but rather than swinging and jumping over the downed Corvo, his grip slipped as the branch cracked and suddenly dropped, forcing Sheika's planned graceful acrobatic styled jump into a more of a hit the dirt with a roll. At least Sheika cleared Corvo as he rested on the ground. In fact, Sheika was able to carry himself, with his momentum, into a quick recovery via clumsy scramble to stand. This, now, was where Sheika could have easily left Corvo behind. Most creatures would go for a slower, easier target (and a weakened one, but Sheika was unaware that Corvo was bleeding). The Fang could not think less of him once they saw the threat, they'd never know he left his partner to die to save himself. Sheika grinned as he turned and reached down, grabbing Corvo by the underside of his arm and pulled him up with all his might. Again Sheika had that odd feeling that he could feel the very muscles in his body pulling at the man. The arm like a powerful machine driven by unstoppable power to simply move an object, if only it worked as well as he envisioned it. "Move!" Sheika hissed his command at Corvo, a strange thing for him, trying to take the role of leadership now. Usually he was one to sit back and observe as much as possible, hence his original role as one to watch the rear (and he was sure he was going to be threatened, possibly punished for not finding this threat sooner). His mother was a Fang leader in life though, perhaps that was why now he had that fire in his eyes, ignited by a comrade in danger. Sheika waved Corvo on as he decided to lag behind slightly, watching Corvo's back, protecting him, more or less, with his own life. Dear Myri, Sheika preyed that Corvo would find another witch doctor to make use of Sheika's corpse, assuming it would be recovered after his severely mauling. Their Survival Depended on one thing now, their Fang.

[Rage]

The duo's efforts managed to keep them just ahead of the beasts, though Sheika would note that he would have gotten much farther away had he not bothered to help out Corvo when the man had slipped in their mad dash to escape the throng behind them, though it would surely have spelled the death of the warrior. Both could feel the breaths their pursuers upon their backs, though so focused where they in their flight that neither gave pause to glance behind. Survival was of paramount importance; they could sort out the identity of the creatures later if - when they've rejoined their fang. Heedless of the racket they made as they fled, not caring if the sounds alerted other predators around them as well, Sheika and Corvo broke through the undergrowth into a clearing they had passed earlier, to find their fang waiting for them. Kreesha and another warrior wielding spear and shield were anchoring the frontline. Their fang leader barely acknowledged them as they ran past her, her attention on the direction they had come from. Her twin morningstars were already spinning at each side of her, the heavily spiked metal balls whistling through the air. The two ground to a halt at the back row, where two archers had their sights trained in the opposite direction. Momentarily, the beasts chasing made their appearance. “Yukmen,” Kreesha spat out in disgust. “Tupahi at that.” They were a terror to behold, caricatures of men and beasts combined. Lean and sinewy, they were humanoid in form, with long limbs that ended in nasty claws sharp enough to rend a man's face off. Strangely, where their bodies should have been covered by skin or fur, were an accumulation of the detritus found on the ground as well as plant matter. Leaves and branches erupted from the cracked surfaces of their bodies, as if they were made from the very earth, birthed by the Jungle itself. Most distinct of all were their faces, for it was lupine in form and structure, with a protruding jaw and a mouthful of fangs instead of teeth. Their eyes seemed not possessed of intelligence, only savagery. The first couple to appear leaped immediately at the fang leader and her companion but they were shot down in midair by the archers. Others immediately took their place and the fight was on. The warrior with the large shield kept most at bay with her concave implement, pushing them back while occasionally jabbing with her spear when the opportunity presented itself. Kreesha's spinning balls of death caved in skulls and shattered bones of the enemy right beside her. “What in Dira's name are you waiting for?! There's only twenty of them! Charge!” the fang leader screamed as she brought one down with a heavy blow from her weapons. The woman and her partner was effective, but for all her bravado, even with the ranged support of the archers behind them, without more help to hold the line everyone knew it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed by the beasts.

[Corvo]

“Yes, only twenty of them.” He mumbled under his breath. His tone was obviously a sarcastic one. His foot throbbed. He ignored. It was only a minor nuisance when compared to what was starring them down. He took a deep breath and charged into the fray with the rest of his fang. This was no time to let a momentary weakness get the better of him. This was a time to fight and survive. These thoughts provided the fuel he needed. They motivated him to fight hard. He lunged and jabbed forward with his sword gauntlet, but he never went to far beyond the line. Only far enough to keep off the pressure for the briefest of moments and buy few precious seconds for everyone else. The wound on his foot was starting to tear and bleed but he continued to ignore it. Adrenaline pumped throughout his body. His eyes grew wild as the battle progressed. His arms were growing heavy. He ignored it and continued to lash out against the creatures that were attempting to overwhelm them. “Damn it! How many of these things are there?” He shouted over the ongoing carnage. He had no idea how much longer they’d be able to keep this up. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long and one of them would come up with a way to get out of this mess.