Closed Special Delivery, Part 2 (Shiress)

[Lucien Stalinsa]

13th of Winter, 514 AV En Route from Mithryn to Syliras Late Afternoon Knightly ModdingPermission given by Nightmare to use the knight Rikard The snow was getting deep. Too deep. Visibility was dropping quickly. The winds were more bitter than the day before. His cloak was pulled tightly around him, hood up around his head. The knight was leaned forward on the bench, his hands holding the reins tightly in their grasp. The wooden bench beneath him was freezing, and the snow was piling up on it. Keeping it clear was important, but there was something more important. He had to keep the mule moving, though it wanted to stop. "Keep going!" He yelled, voice piercing the fierce winds. The wagon's wheels were slowed by the deepening snows, and the mule's steps were slower. "How are you holding up, Shiress, Rikard?!" It had been foolish to travel, but they had deferred to his judgement on the situation. Their lives were in his hands now, and if they fell to the frozen crystals of winter, he would carry that shame to his own grave, even if it were that same day. "We can do this! Keep the faith." He wasn't sure he believed his own words. Lucien could admit when he had made a mistake. He made them from time to time, more often than he would like to admit, but he could come around to accepting it. Maybe not immediately. Maybe not when confronted about it. But when things got bad enough, it would happen. It turned out it was more than bad enough. The knight thought they could beat the snow. It was rare to get that much around Syliras, even during the Winter. The flakes had barely started fall when they left in the morning. With the trek to the city being a half day at most, Lucien had been confident they would get in ahead of any deep snowfall. Only a bell or two after they left, however, the accumulation had grown well beyond what was expected. "I think we're getting a little snow today, Lucien!" Rikard shouted through the gale. "If we can just keep going, we can make to Syliras! Press on!" The cart stopped, just on cue. Lucien, unable to control the mule fully had unintentionally put them just off the path. The right front wheel dug into the snow, almost jolting the blonde knight from his seat on the left. "By the Gods!" The bite in his voice was muffled by a powerful gust, one that chilled the mage to the bone. "Make sure you're covered," he commanded before crawling down off the bench to see what had happened. Rikard brought his horse up to a stop beside the mostly empty cart. "Ma'am, might I suggest you dismount as well? We may have to use a little brute force to get this vehicle moving again, and I wouldn't want you to get injured in the process." Lucien gave his fellow knight a sideways glance. The flirtatious tone wasn't lost on him, despite the usual denseness to such foolish things. "Now is not the time," he muttered, his complaints swept away by the wind. While Rikard spoke with Shiress, the mage-knight had knelt down beside the wagon to examine the damage. A frown fell over his barely exposed face. Even in the blustery conditions, the crack was apparent. "We hit a rock," Lucien announced. "We'll have to get the wagon back on the road proper, and replace it with our spare. I pray we don't suffer another setback." Tyveth, have we not suffered enough? My faith is absolute, my trust complete. Could you not offer us protection from Morwen's wicked freeze? "Rikard, help me move the wagon. When you're done with...whatever...it is you're doing." Lucien's fingers gripped the bottom of the cart as he impatiently waited for his fellow to be useful. If they weren't going to get moving again, then they needed shelter. "I would quite prefer not to be buried alive, Druva. Make haste!"

[Shiress]

Shiress loved snow. Born and raised in Zeltiva, to see a good snow fall was few and far between, as was it in Syliras, but the mountains were always capped in a snowy white every Winter. But this? This was something the girl had never experienced in the port city.

A snowy, white blanket covered everything, including Shiress, who sat frozen in her seat, as the cart crawled forward. Her gloved fingers held the hood of her cloak closed over her face, with a feeble attempt to shield her eyes against the onslaught of icy wind. It roared past her cloaked ears, like metal dragged across stone. It was deafening. She was soaked to the bone, seemingly, and her body shivered, with every cold gust.

When Lucien spoke, she turned her body toward him, barely parting the veil covering her eyes. "I'm frozen!" she shouted, leaning slightly forward. "It's so cold, like a Bonesnapper times a hundred!" Pulling back the hood a bit, she endeavored a glance around, but it was useless. Her surroundings had transformed into a thick, white wave of powder, that engulfed everything in its wake. Nothing was left uncovered. "Where are..." Her words cut off, as the cart jerked to a stand still. Straightening from her sudden repositioning, she peered around to Lucien, just as he pulled himself from the cart. Shiress, however, was content to stay put.

Just as the hood was placed again over her eyes, Rikard spoke. She remained silent, but done as bidden. Her booted feet disappeared into the knee-deep snow, as she stepped from the cart and plowed her way to the horsed Knight. Curly, wet locks fell around her flushed face, as Shiress threw back her hood and turned worried eyes upward to meet Rikard's. "H-how f-far are we ff-from the c-city? she asked, her body shaking now, from cold. But before Shiress heard the reply, Lucien called out, and immediately, the girls heart sunk with dread. This was bad, very bad, and she had a feeling the Knights in company knew exactly how bad the situation was. But, at least it was fixable, right? Shiress stepped back out of the way and watched the men working, while a sickening hole formed in the pit of her stomach.

"It cant get much worse than this"

[Lucien Stalinsa]

"I'm not sure," Rikard replied. "This weather has slowed us down, for sure. We made the turn north some time ago, but the road is barely passable. I'm afraid we may be..." The knight trailed off, glancing down at the ground. He didn't want to admit they were likely stranded in the unforgiving conditions. They did have supplies, granted to them for the journey, but that didn't mean it would be easily done. He knew for a fact that Lucien was very green to the wilds. Much of it would lie on him. The knight frowned with his companion announced the status of their vehicle. "Perhaps I could try and ride ahead and seek help?"They were all but stranded for the time being. While they had some supplies, if fortune should smile upon them and another patrol be out, their chances would improve greatly. Another gust of wind whipped across the farmlands, somehow making the cold seem only colder. Lucien quickly rebuffed his fellow knight, believing his suggestion one they simply couldn’t follow. “Impossible, Rikard. The danger is too great to risk your life like that. We must work together if we are to survive this ordeal. Now help me get this moved. It's sunken down into the snow pretty bad, on top of the ” Lucien prepared himself to move the cart back onto the road. At this point, it didn’t matter if the wheel were damaged in the process. There was an individual spare. The group would simply have to be more careful moving forward. “Now now, Miss Shiress,” Rikard said, dismounting and leading his horse to the side of the road. “It could absolutely be worse. Imagine if Lucien and I were not here.” He winked at the bartender. “Now if you could go ahead and get off the wagon and keep my horse and the mule here company, well that would be a great help.” After the woman gained control of the horse, Rikard moved to unhook the mule from the cart. "Don't want this guy getting away, after all." After the witty knight finished unhooking the mule, he made his way over to Lucien, only to find him chanting quietly to himself. The words, lines of devotion to Tyveth were not truly a prayer, though the blonde would have taken great solace in the companionship of his deity at that moment. “Honor, truth, valor, and justice. By these values I live, by these values will I die.” Lucien’s hands were placed squarely against the side of the cart, ready to push when Rikard was himself prepared. "Think you can send up a prayer to Morwen then, while you're at it?" Lucien didn't respond. His words were nothing but a focusing mechanism. The power of Flux was at his fingertips, but it was very difficult for him to channel. The pathways connecting his body were still foreign to him, and it was extremely tasking to draw power forth from those pathways to put where he needed it, not to mention dangerous. Thanks to the difficulty he had doing more than pushing energy broadly the worry of going too far was not exactly present. The knight continued chanting as Rikard also placed his hands against the cart. When he became aware the Rikard was ready, Lucien began to channel the energy using his understanding of the flux. Energy flowed from his center to his legs. As a result, his heart beat decreased, his breathing became more shallow, and the functions of his other central organs diminished. Such was the trade off with the power it offered. The knight felt the strength growing in his legs. A surge of might would hopefully give him all that he needed to, with Rikard's help, get the cart in a situation where they could try and replace the broken wheel. He could feel the flow, slow and steady but meaningful as it pooled in his legs and feet. "Ready, Rikard?" The knight nodded and then they both began to push. Lucien's rhythmic chanting never ceased. The cart was hesitant to move at first. The snow had been packed in quite nicely around it when Lucien drove them off course. With the combined efforts of Rikard and a magically enhanced Lucien, they would find a way to persevere. At least, Lucien hoped that was true. If not for the biting cold and near white out conditions, he would count his blessings that this had occurred after they unloaded the alcohol for the Mithryn Outpost. The added weight would have made the wooden vehicle more difficult to maneuver. Slowly, but surely, the wood began to slide free from the impact point. Lucien and Rikard drove their legs, fighting for footing in the snow. Both nearly dropped to their knees on more than one occasion, plated boots giving way to the slippery ground beneath them. "Tyveth, give me strength!" Lucien cried out, voice rising as he chanted. The flow of energy was uneven as he tried to shift it back and forth between his upper and lower body - something he struggled to do at his level of talent. "Come on Lucien, keep going!" Rikard's motivation was in truth for himself. His own will was beginning to falter, and it only became more likely the longer they were in the elements. Lucien's muscles tensed, the burning of exertion rushing throughout each of them as they were engaged. He was grateful for the help of his companion, realizing that even with Flux, he would not have been able to move. Little by little the cart have way. When the two knights managed to get the cart up over the dip Lucien had driven them off, the cart moved with a bit more ease, cutting through the increasingly deep snow covering the path back to Syliras. The blonde knight released the power pooling in his arms, letting it course back to where it belonged in his body. His chanting ceased and he leaned against the side of their transport, heavy breaths coming forth. "Now that wasn't so bad," Rikard said between his own deep breaths. Lucien could only shake his head. The real issue was before them. Replacing the wheel.

[Shiress]

"Afraid we may be...what?" Ask Shiress, prompting Knight to finish his statement. "Delayed? Late? Off course? Behind schedule?" she offered, her tone sounding more imploring with each possible occurrence.

Brushing back wet hair from her face, she frowned and made to move closer to the man, intent on insuring the fear that had just settle in the pit of her stomach was unwarranted. "Are you saying that we are.." She began, but, whether the cold blast of wind stole away her voice, or he had deliberately intercepted a question he was not keen on answering, Rikard glanced past her and spoke to Lucien. The girl wondered, suspiciously, if he hadn't just given Lucien the answer to her interrupted question, in the form of a solution.

Shiress shook her head vigorously, and opened her mouth to voice her disapproval, but Lucien said it for her. For the first time, during this journey, the reality of lives being at risk had finally been stated. Shiress dropped her face, with a sigh, and fell into foreboding silence.

This could not be happening to her.

A sudden rush of icy wind thrashed and swirled around Shiress, stirring the wet ringlets of hair around her face, its cold bite stung her reddened cheeks and nose, before descending down to her bones, with a violent shiver, that issued throughout her body. The trepidation within her seem to feed off the cold, growing stronger, as the day grew older and colder.

It was Rikard's simple, yet effective, attempt at reassurance, that brought a weak smile to the girls face, as her gaze met with his. The wink, however, strengthen the smile to a toothy, bashful grin that followed the handsome Knight, as he dismounted and stepped toward her.

Shiress needn't imagine what it would be like to be without the company of two Syliran Knights, stranded and in danger, outside the city walls, for she had lived it, several seasons ago. The girl knew all to well that her fortune was, in fact, better with the two men with her, but she still knew the danger, and the bitter cold had heightened it about ten fold. Yet, arching a brow, she nodded her understanding of the Knights statement, feeling reluctantly thankful that she wasn't alone...this time.

Locked in an admiring glare on Rikard's retreating form, it was several ticks before the bartender realized what Rikard had offered her, and to what she held in her gloved hand. Glancing down to the clinched reins between her fingers, Shiress' eyes widened in horror. Shiress was deeply intimidated of horses and now she was in control of a..a..horse?! Not a tiny one either, but a huge, hairy, giant of a warhorse, not to mention the stubborn mule, who, now being released of its burden, wanted nothing better than to wander off from the situation. Shiress turned her face slowly to where the two Knights worked, wishing them to hurry, the leather strips of rope, tethering her to the beasts, held out, awkwardly, in her hand.

Rikard's horse was content, only moving to shift his weight from one giant leg to the other. The mule, on the other hand, was impatient and rather bossy, doing his best to back out of his constraints, or jerk free of Shiress' grip. "Can you two" she called out, casting an irritated glance backwards, as she maneuvered the rope in her hands to gain a tighter hold, "hurry up!"

With all the moving and scuffing of the mule's hoofs, The girl noticed a patch of grey, dead earth, peaking out from beneath the snow. Raising her eyebrow's with an idea, Shiress passed the rope to her other hand and squatted down, scooping the snow further away from the patch of dead earth. Closing her eyes, the girl focused hard on the turf roots, envisioning a green and ripe vegetation in its place. A tingling sensation began on her leg, where a silvery, grey mark adorned her calf. Slowly, the sensation moved upward, down her arm, her hand, and finally passed out through her fingertips, to the cold ground beneath. Gradually, the grey, cold earth gave way to a green, lush color, from where blades of grass now grew. Shiress smiled satisfied and straightened, moving out of the way for the horse and mule to enjoy their snack. "I'd hurry" she whispered, shivering, crossing her arms, and the reins, over her chest. "it'll be covered back over in a few chimes"

[Lucien Stalinsa]

Lucien’s eyes closed as he rested his back against the damaged cart. He’d been overmatched – driving the cart was something he’d never done before, yet it seemed so simple. It had been that, until the weather took a perfect situation and made it imperfect. The winds were so cruel, and the snow unexpected. The knight knew he had no choice but to face this challenge head on. Shivers rushed throughout the blonde’s body, but not from the cold. His body was attempting to center itself once again after his use of the Flux. Energy flowed from the distant parts of his body, back to where they belonged. The practice was exhausting, but the circumstances dictated he take the risk. Rikard and himself alone would not have been enough to move the cart from its place. His chest rose and fell slowly as he took long, deep, breaths to try and keep himself focused. He needed a clear mind to try and figure out how to replace a wheel, something he’d never done before. Lucien had been ambitious in volunteering for the task of delivering alcohol from the Rearing Stallion out to Mithryn. It would have been better that he be in Rikard’s place, riding alongside an actual skilled driver. Ser Tristan Nigriso had spent many bells tutoring him on the use of weapons, magic, and even the playing of music, but none of that aided him on this day. He was on his own. Especially when he considered that Rikard seemed more interested in Shiress than their predicament. “What was that?” Rikard’s eyes had widened when he noticed the power that Shiress displayed. He’d caught the sudden appearance of green, however slight, out of the corner of his eyes while the two knights had been pushing. He’d never seen anything quite like her demonstration. “That was magnificent. How did you do such a thing?” He moved away from the cart, over to where Shiress stood with the mule and horse, leaving Lucien behind. “What else are you hiding from me?” “Was it not you, Rikard, who told me to leave our companion be?” Lucien said loudly, one eye opening to glance at his fellow through the near whiteout conditions. “We have work to do.” “We worked. We should rest for a moment. Take in the view. You know, truly appreciate the situation we're in." "Should you prefer to freeze to death, Rikard, I do believe you are on to something. I, on the other hand, would prefer to survive, so please let help me get this lifted so I can remove the wheel." Lucien knew he could rely on Rikard. Despite their extreme differences in personality and mannerisms, when it came time to get the job done, he know that he would come through. He was left rather confused when his compatriot didn't reply. "Rikard?" Lucien turned to face where Shiress and Rikard had been standing, but was surprised to only see the bartender. A shadow was upon Lucien before he could react. It impact him, sending the knight sprawling to the snow at his feet before the flying creature disappeared into the concealment of the blowing snow above. The knight lifted his face from the cold precipitation, spiting out warning to Shiress. "Zith! Get to cover!" Lucien scrambled back to his feet, his hand immediately moving to the hilt of his broadsword. The young man's eyes darted back and forth as he tried to locate both the threat, and the missing knight. Zith were pack hunters - this particular group had decided to attack in the cover of the blizzard. The cloud cover helped with their sensitivity to sunlight, and the conditions created a perfect veil from which to launch their attack on any unsuspecting people caught out in the weather. Zith were vicious creatures, but on their own they were frail. Lucien knew he would die if he tried to take on the whole swarm, but if he could wound a couple they may cut their losses and flee. He began to again focus his energy as he took up his drawing stance. His leading foot slid out to the front and his body significantly to the left that he could spring back to normal and unleash a powerful draw and slash in a smooth motion. Lucien favored the quick drawing techniques for their ability to both counter and be used on the offensive. The use of Flux only made it more powerful. Despite that, he had much to learn, both is swordplay, and the manipulation of his own Djed. The knight began to chant as he had prior to moving the cart. Words of devotion, of faith, and of valor which kept his mind clear and his body prepared to sacrifice all. He knew the risk he was taking could indeed be vast - he'd been taught that using Flux without a partner was highly cautioned against - yet his relative newness to the art was actually a benefit in a strange way. He lacked the control to harness enough power that it risked his body. Over time his precision would grow, but so would the dangers of losing control. For now, all he could do was chant and wait for the Zith to attack again that he may strike. Lucien couldn't afford to look to check on Shiress, so he could only hope that she had heeded his warning. Pure, white snow continued to blow all around them, the wind picking up and swirling as though Morwen and Zulrav both were laughing at their misfortunes. The fluttering of leathery wings was inaudible beneath nature's display of power. Lucien feared, if only for a moment, all was lost.

[Shiress]

Shiress' gaze lifted from the animals to Rikard, as he called out her. Beyond cold bitten, rosy cheeks, the girl's color darkened further, with the realization that she had gained the Knight's attention. She didn't answer, but his approach drew an awkward, shy smile across her lips.

Something in the way the Knight looked at her, with those amazing, icy blue eyes, made a chill, that had nothing to do with the cold, run down her spine.

Her smile broadened, the closer he got to her. "Well" she said, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip, as a slender finger slid a path across Rikard's armored chest "guess you'll just have to..." The girl's words trailed off, as the Knight's expression suddenly shifted.

His gaze flicked past Shiress and lifted skyward, his eyes widening, as a hand jerked toward the sword at his side. The Knight's mouth opened, but if in a gasp of horror, or to utter a warning, Shiress never knew. As the girl turned to follow Rikard's gaze, a dark blur filled her vision. Confusion ensued.

The horse let out a loud, long squeal and reared up tall on his hind legs, jerking Shiress sideways, before bolting off into the snow. The mule, too, had fled in terror, or so it seemed. Shiress whirled and stumbled, looking around through the blowing snow for Rikard, but she stood alone. Twisting around, she looked for Lucien, but it seemed as if he, also, had been swallowed by the wind and snow.

Several steps back, a body emerged slowly through the white wall. "Lucien!" she yelled, the wind whipping and slapping her long, damp hair against her face. Three steps she took, before Lucien's warning sliced the cold, stopping her in her tracks.

Shiress ducked and dragged herself through the snow, until she was beneath the wagon, the deep, bitter snow coiling around her frame like a snake. Unable to see, she could only hope she was completely hidden. Her heart pounded in her chest, like a caged bird wild for freedom, as she waited, listening, to scared to breath. The only sound the girl could hear, was that of the white storm and the soft, muffled voice of the young Knight, but even still, she felt enveloped in a formidable silence, that seemed to be screaming around her. Pulling her eyes closed tightly, she waited..

And began to pray.




.

[Lucien Stalinsa]

Lucien was somewhat shaken by the daytime aggression of the Zith, and clearly Rikard had been as well. There was no way that his fellow knight would have let his guard down the way he had if there had been any suspicion of an attack. The creatures may have been smarter than he traditionally gave them credit for. While the blonde knight was a squire, he, his patron, and other knights had gone between Syliras and Riverfall. During those times they'd encountered Zith on more than one occasion. The promise of a Syliran warhorse was too tempting a morsel for the beasts of the sky to resist. Yet those attacks came during times of darkness, when the majority human knights were at their most vulnerable. Lucien heard Shiress dive beneath the cart, and it was nearly enough to break his concentration. He was still a newborn in the ways of the Flux, and it was difficult for him to use in actual combat. The slightest of distractions had been able to disrupt him from time to time, forcing him to find something to center on. The chanting help, as did a clear mind. Lucien attempted to push all thoughts, all worries, all of the chaos around him. It was extremely difficult for the knight to do. Other Flux users had impressed upon him the importance of this, but he had not taken the required time to truly acquaint himself with the concept of meditating to clear his mind. They claimed it was necessary not only to utilize Flux in combat, but to ensure that one remained in control of themselves that they did not harm themselves or those who they were meant to protect. Lucien wished so that he'd taken their lessons to heart. Try as he might, he couldn't focus enough to both channel his flux and keep his thoughts clear. He visualized the white of the snow as pure and calm, but the howling winds and brisk temperatures quickly chased that image from his mind. On more than one occasion he nearly lost control of the flow, causing the pooling energy to waver and seek to return to where it had been drawn from. It took the full strength of his will to keep his spell from unraveling. He scanned the sky above him for signs of the shadowy creatures, waiting for one to reveal themselves. He had no idea just how many Zith were circling them, but he would need to defend himself and Shiress until the Zith decided that they had taken enough losses. His chanting continued, and he felt the energy gathering from his outer body to his torso. His pathways were untamed and he was mostly unfamiliar with how they worked - how to effectively and efficiently channel his strength throughout his body. All that mattered now was that the power was pooled in his midsection to increase the force generated with his initial draw. The wind howled incessantly, restricting and blocking his senses. With eyes squinted, he didn't notice the first Zith swoop until it was nearly upon him. Lucien loosed the broadsword from its sheathe, The biting steel came forth with a fury, enhanced as his body twisted feircly thanks to the channeled energy of the Flux. As his torso aided in releasing the attack, so did Lucien release the stored energy, allowing it to flow back to where it belonged in his body. The slash was basic and even. Simple. The added speed and force behind the attack caught the Zith off guard, summoning forth from it a low, guttural scream as steel met the flesh of it's leg. Lucien immediately brought the blade to a high guard, ready to attack the next Zith he faced. Unfortunately, the next one came from behind. The force of a full speed Zith crashed into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground before him. Snow kicked up in a white cloud around him, only to be be whisked away and become one with the already intense flurries which surrounded them. The scraping of the beast's claws against his back reverberated throughout his body, into his bones. If not for the protective steel plating, the Zith would have torn him asunder. Still holding the broadsword in his hand, Lucien threw his weight to the right, away from the cart, rolling onto his back. The Zith kept itself atop the knight, face contorted in hunger and fury. It had Lucien dead to rights as far as it was concerned, but it had overestimated the strength of a Syliran knight. The knight refused to accept his death at the hands of the feral Zith, and began to maneuver his blade to strike. Tyveth give me strength. There are too many questions yet to be answered, and truths to which to find. The prayer was short, but gave him confidence. He needed to dispatch the Zith, ensure Shiress was not injured, and locate Rikard. He could not believe that his friend would be so easily defeated by the foul creatures they were combating. All three of them had to return to Syliras together.

[Shiress]

Beneath the body of the wagon time seemed to stand still. What seemed, to Shiress, to be bells on bells of silence, were mere chimes, ticks even.

This is not happening...

Concealed beneath the wooden roof, Shiress trembled within her frozen sanctuary, drawing in deep, slow breaths, forcing each one beyond the pounding heart in her chest. Slowly, she lifted her head and peered around her confines. The snow lay, heaped, in small hills around the edges of the cart, allowing slits and chunks of daylight to peek through. Pulling an arm out from beneath her, Shiress pushed the snow further into the holes, blocking out the light, leaving her better concealed, but seemingly trapped, in an eerie, white dimness.

The sound of metal being unsheathed drew her unsteady gaze. Slowly, her green eyes trailed along the snowy wall surrounding her. A growled and beastly scream sent a jolt of fear shooting through her nerves. A flicker of fear crossed over the girl's face, but was quickly covered by her hand, as she flung it up and over her mouth, stopping a cry from issuing forth. For a tick, it was, again, quiet.

A loud swooping noise cut through the foreboding silence, followed by a dull thud, that pounded against the frozen ground, just outside from where she hid. The impact raddled the snow, causing it to shake loose and fall in toward her, creating a small window in the snowy wall. A body lay there. It was Lucien. A gasp of air caught in her throat, green eyes widening, at the sight. Her fingers tightened around her mouth.

The blonde knight moved, with a jerk, and rolled over to his back, His movement caught the light and the girl spied a glint of steel in his hand. He was still armed. But, before a sigh of relief could form, a shadow had covered Lucien, like a black blanket.

The Zith attacked and Shiress froze.

No...God's no..Please, help him...

Shiress closed her eyes, fearing the worst.

You help him... Came her own voice, through her thoughts.

...I..I can't..

..you can..

..no, I can't. I'm weak, helpless..

..you can. You are strong..

I am strong.

Shiress opened her eyes and gulped down the swell of fear, tightening like a fist, in her throat. Slowly, she pulled her body from beneath the opposite end of the cart and crouched, being mindful that her head didn't top the edges. Her fingers trailed along her thigh, fumbled at a buckle, and gently, a dagger slid from it's scabbard. One hand held the trembling blade by her side, as the other lifted to the clasp at her neck, loosening her cloak. It fell, silently, to the ground and she began to half crawl, half walk through the snow. Noiselessly, she rounded the abandoned cart, peered around, then straightened, and, with a quiet step, the soles of her shoes barely lifting from the earth, she moved forward.

Standing just behind the creature, the bartender's eyes fell, warily, to the dagger in her hand. It shook violently, she shook violently, and, for a split tick, she doubted herself. A glimpse of movement, however, stole her gaze. The Zith had poised to strike, Lucien his target. Doubt dwindled, where intrepidity began to grow. Deft fingers curled backwards around the dagger's shaft, rotating the blade downward, as the weapon rose above her head. With a slow, steady step, one hand rising to meet the other on the hilt, she thrust downward and blade met flesh, between the creatures wings.

The Zith roared, his body twisting, as a massive, thick arm cut through the air, toward the pain in it's back. The blow caught Shiress in the middle and hurled her backwards. She slammed, hard, into the snow covered earth, air rushing from her lungs, as white land swirled and dove around her. Then, gradually, all dissolved into a small, black mass, before her face.

Groaning, Shiress' eyes flickered and opened, just as large, clawed fingers wrapped tightly around her neck, cutting off the air, again, to already desperate lungs. Her mouth gaped open in a silent scream, as both hands jerked up, to claw, helplessly, at the beast's grip.

"You stupid female" he growled, thin lips peeling back in a snarl "You'll pay" he added, his dark, massive wings spreading, ready to take flight.

[Lucien Stalinsa]

The countless bells spent smashing wooden weapons against wooden dolls, the ceaseless lectures, the endless practicing of anything and everything which his patron desired: none of it ever felt as though it truly prepared him for the panicked rush of life or death combat. If he didn't wear the knight's plate, the Zith would have easily overtaken him. Without it to protect him, his own skills would have failed versus the combined might of several of the monsters. Thankfully, all the Zith could do was fruitlessly attempt to slice through his armor, unable to find flesh or make contact with the knight's constantly moving head. In some strange way, Lucien it was glad that they were attacked, rather than some farmer or merchant unable to defend themselves. Lucien rotated his wrist so the broadsword blade was facing skyward and thrust from his disadvantaged position. The Zith twisted atop him, jerking its body to the side to avoid the piercing blade. The fur covered creature retaliated, forcing the knight to withdraw his blade and slide it into place to protect his face from the wicked claws the creature brandished. The feral way with which it stared into him nearly shook the blonde warrior to his very core. He felt his weapon pushing down on him, his muscles giving away to the Zith's superior leverage. Then, suddenly, it wasn't. The beast howled out in pain, and lashed back at Shiress, who had moved up unnoticed by both Lucien and his assailant. The woman, who only moments before had been hiding beneath the cart, had struck the Zith with a dagger that Lucien was unaware she possessed. Her body flew through the air after the Zith struck her squarely; his attention had shifted to his new prey, the woman who had injured him. With another scowl and howl of pain, it reached back and pulled the dagger from where it stuck, tossing it aside as it advanced on the bartender. Lucien scrambled to his feet, nearly slipping back to the ground as his feet struggled to find traction in the blustery conditions. The winds gusted, whipping the snow about and slowing the knight's attempt to regain his bearings. He quickly dusted his face off from where the snow had gathered and set his sights on the Zith. The knight was surprised to see it preparing to take flight with Shiress. Gripping his broadsword in both hands, Lucien closed the gap between himself and Shiress. He swung the blade low and to his right, so the tip ran through the snow, leaving a trail of its existence, before rotating his shoulder and bringing the blade overhead and down on where the Zith's outstretched wings flapped. An loud tear was audible despite the storm, and the screech that followed even more so. Blood stained the pure, white snow as it splattered forth from the ruined wing. The overhead slash followed through with Lucien's step, leaving the blade pointed at the ground on his left side. Not wanting to risk hitting Shiress, should the beast avoid a follow up swing, the knight shifted his trailing foot forward, letting the toe drag along the ground. Once his weight was centered on his right foot, Lucien accelerated his left foot and raised it about knee height to deliever an awkward, unbalanced kick to the side of the Zith's leg. The steel greaves connected and brought his foe crumpling to the ground in heap of low, guttural curses. Lucien, however, was unable to keep his balance either. While the knights practiced unarmed combat, Lucien was new to their ranks. and yet untrained, so his attempt at valor was met with a rather unceremonious greeting with the ground. Snow again puffed up in a cloud around him when he landed flat on his back, as it had when he was ushered to the ground by the Zith. With the wind knocked from his lungs, Lucien could manage little more than a few words. "Shiress...you...okay?" He doubted this was what she had expected when agreeing to bring supplies out to the Mithryn Outpost. Zith were bold, skilled, and tenacious hunters, if nothing else. No matter how many were killed, they seemed to return endlessly, time and time again. The severely wounded Zith writhed on the ground beside him, trying to crawl back to its feet. Lucien went to slash at from where he lay, only to realize that in his own misstep, he had lost his weapon. A quick glance around located it, out of reach, but by Shiress, of whose condition he was unsure. "Tyveth protect us." The knight raised his left hand towards the Zith from his spot on the ground, and willed forth a power he knew far better than the Flux. Rather than control the flow of his energy, he instead drew it forth, seeking to free it as a tool of destruction outside and more importantly, away from his body. It had been some time since Lucien had practiced his artes, but the twin 'x' shaped scars, one on each palm, were a constant reminder of the price he agreed to pay in exchange for the power to protect those who needed it, and defeat that which threatened the City of Peace. Slowly, methodically, an opaque, clouded substance flowed from his hands, unstable in the fierce winds. Lucien could feel the Res, though the near white out conditions helped to conceal it, something he intended to use to his advantage. While the Zith stood, Lucien simply continued to build a small mass of Res that he would use to protect him and Shiress should their foe advance.

[Shiress]

I'm dying...this is how it feels to die...

For all the times Shiress had faced death, this was the first that she had been within it's grip, quite literally. There were times when the girl had feared death, and times she had faced her own mortality courageously, not knowing whether she would live or die. But, to feel the warmth of life begin to fade from her body, was oddly..alluring, to Shiress.

And life was fading, the knowing of existence gradually dwindling. Long, filthy, claw-like fingers tore into the tender flesh of her neck, as the savage grip tightened around her throat. Shiress' oxygen deprived body screamed for distraught lungs to pull in precious air, to breath, but it would not come. Blood pooled in the girl's face, as green eyes, slowly, began to roll away. Desperate fingers, fighting against the monsters grip, began to weaken and yield.

Sweet Surrender.

But, just as warmth began to fade, it rushed in again. Destitute lungs expanded, with a deep, grating intake of air. Shiress' body writhed, demanding the oxygen from it.

Gulping through acute coughs, Shiress scrambled backwards, away from her attacker, blinking through blurry vision. Once clear, she focused her eyes on Lucien, as he spoke, his voice fragile and forced.

"Yes." she answered, her frail attempt to speak matching Lucien's. She coughed and cleared her throat. "Yes." she repeated, her voice stronger. Clutching at a bruised side, Shiress began to lift herself from the ground, but, as she did, the, thought dead, Zith also began to stir. Shiress gaped at the monster, watching him straighten, his resiliency startling her back to the ground.

He never turned to look at her, tossed aside, like prey the predator was finished playing with. Instead, the Zith turned his malice, once again, on the young Knight. The staggering, unsteady beast stooped, swaying, and pulled Shiress' dagger from the snow, as he approached Lucien. Shiress drew back, her gaze following the ascension of the newly armed Zith. Beneath the blanket of snow, her hand slid across the sharp edge of cold steel, then paused, her green eyes widening with realization. Fingers trailed along the blade, to the hilt, wrapping tightly around it.

Shiress pulled her legs beneath her and pushed herself from the ground, Lucien's sword held awkwardly by her side. Two unsteady steps and she swung, hard. The blade jerked away from her right ankle and swung out through the snow dotted space before her, with a misjudgment of distance, between her and the intended target. The sword's tip spun around and behind her, piercing the earth behind her left ankle. The girl's unsteady footing caused the sword's momentum to work against her, driving her around in it's wake, and bringing her to her knees. Her left hand, unable to maintain a firm grip, vacated the hilt and slid down the edge of the sword.

Shiress let out a screech of pain, as the blade sliced into her palm and fingers, drawing the Zith's unwanted attention. With lips curling up in an agitated snarl, the creature rounded on the girl. Shiress' gaze jerked away from her bloody hand to the bent form of the Zith, barreling down her. In one movement, her right hand snatched the weapon from the ground and hurled it upward. The blade caught her attacker on the lower, right side of his thick chest and carved a deep, gouging path to his neck. Blood spewed from his body, before it crumpled.

Shiress' grip left the broadsword as she began to crawl through the snow, toward Lucien, her injured hand leaving a trail of red snow, behind her. She scrambled up his legs, past his outstretched hand, and came to rest beside him. Lifting her uninjured hand, she brushed back a lock of golden hair, unaware of what he was doing.

"Please, tell me you're OK."