Closed Dangerous Escapades (Xen)

[Tinnok]

Dangerous Escapades
60th of Spring, 514 A.V.

It had happened fast, as most things with Myrians fangs tended to do. Tinnok would know, she had been a member of one for three years. Every night she regretted her decision for returning so close to Taloba and Zinrah both. The jungle wilds were fraught with enough danger without her putting herself back into the direct fray, especially when any chances of taking shelter in Taloba were long gone with that half of a fang she had murdered back in the Summer.

But she had come. A few loose ends she wanted to tie up, the strange hopes that had dragged her back, questions that were unanswered, and as her bare feet pounded through the brush, pursuers on her heels, she was regretting her decision...badly.

Her first mistake had been climbing down from the canopy. On the ground it was hard to see one's surroundings, easy for creature, Dhani, or Myrian to come upon you without you knowing, and Myrians could move very quietly when they wanted to. Her second mistake had been approaching the basin proper, leaving the relative cover of the jungle to fill her water skin when she could have found a nearby stream that ran off the basin to resupply. She had heard the bird call, knew what it meant. It meant circle around, another one sharper meant the enemy was of unknown race, to assume hostile.

She hadn't given another thought to water after that, had just started running through the jungle and refused to look back. She could hear fleet feet behind her, chasing her through the foliage. Luckily she hadn't thought to leave her pack or bow or supplies back up in the tree or then she really would have been petched.

Tinnok sucked in lungfuls of air, wondering how much longer she could keep this up. It wasn't likely she could outrun an entire fang, no less outmaneuver them, and if she was exhausted from sprinting it was even less likely she would be able to fight them off long enough to get away. Options slim, hope slimmer the half breed kept her arms pumping, searching for a small miracle.

[Xen]

‘‘ A good day for a hunt, it seems.’’

Xen was walking quietly along the jungle floor, having only his katana and armor made maneuvering through the jungle easier for him. That big shield he always carried with him would have been good to have, as it would have effortlessly absorbed blows and impacts coming his way. However, its habit of limiting his mobility was risky in this part of the jungle which, by what Xen could tell, was littered with telltale signs that showed that myrian’s frequented these grounds.

Xen crouches and places his hands onto the ground, letting the dirt sink in between his fingers. He marks the trees he could reach and leaves muddy handprints on their bark. Xen smears mud on the nearby shrubs as well to clean his hands and leave his scent behind. Once his hands were somewhat clean, he ventures deeper into the jungle and absorbs the beauty of his environment as he went. Only when he felt that danger was nearby did he place his right hand onto the handle of his katana and looks around with caution.


‘‘Where, maybe sssomething will come from over that way?’’


Xen turns to his left, only to have a person rush past his right. He tilts his head, wondering why the strange person was in such a hurry. Xen turns to see a group of myrian’s charging towards him, there were far too many for him to handle, and rushes behind Tinnok, believing that if the myrian’s didn’t like her—she could be trusted. He leaps over a fallen tree trunk and dashes at full speed. Xen used his natural quickness and maneuverability, as he plows through the jungle undergrowth and towards his could be savior, Tinnok.


‘‘Thiss iss not how I wanted to sstart my day!?’’

Xen shouted during his run.

[Tinnok]

At first when the form appeared beside her her fingers snatched a dagger at of her hand, her body dashing to the side, one foot launching her off the ground and away from the form working its way quickly through the undergrowth. She gripped the leather handle, yellow eyes peering through the swiftly moving foliage, trying to identify the threat.

That was when she saw the male peer over his shoulder and exclaim loudly. His skin tone, nor his accent Myrian. She squinted at him, the action nearly forcing her to trip over a stray root as the Myrian fang fanned out around them.

"We not run forever!" She cried in common "Can you fight if must?

Her quiver clacked gently against her back, another dagger finding her way into her hand. She'd prefer to loose off a few shots of her bow before a fight, but that would mean time to draw and aim, neither luxury she had yet. Her lungs began to burn as her feet continued pounding against the soft earth. She did not know this male past the fact that she was sure he wasn't Myrian. She couldn't trust him, but she would have to if it came to a fight, and for now....that was going to have to be enough.

She tried to think of what she would do in pursuit of an unknown enemy. If she was chasing something in human form it probably meant a Dhani in human form for stealth reasons. This meant killing the target quickly without giving them a chance to transform into a larger more dangerous form. They would circle around the two runners, sending their fastest scouts to cut them off and force them to stop, then come in quickly for the kill.

Tinnok had grown fast in time running from Taloba, however, and whatever being ran next to her seemed agile as well. They would be harder to catch up to, but...not impossible. Her fingers squeezed the handles of her daggers tightly.

"Be ready male, danger comes."

[Xen]

‘‘ I can fight, especially if it getss uss out of thiss ssituation!’’

Xen leapt over another fallen tree trunk and ducks as a hanging tree branch cascades overhead, it missing him by only an inch. He loved racing through the jungle! The clean air that entered his lungs—the beautiful and natural world that passed him, during a run, allowed him to feel incredibly free and alive. Xen found himself smiling as he places another firm foot onto the ground and kicks back against the dirt. This was nerve-racking to be running through the jungle with Myrians in hot pursuit but it felt better to have company, strange company.

Xen notices that his company almost had the exact skin tone of the Myrians, though; her skin was just a lot lighter than theirs. He wonders why the Myrians were chasing a female of their own kind in the jungle: maybe, this was how they competed for their females, chasing them through the jungle. Xen did not understand the ways of the Myrians; they were so strange and violent. In the years he spent living with the constrictors, he’d come to understand the bitter resentment they all had towards the Myrians and their selfish conquest for Falyndar.

Xen knew that he couldn’t keep this up forever and waits patiently for the moment when he and his companion would cease their retreat. He grabs onto the sheath of his katana and enters a steady running pace and stance—standing upright and allowing the whole of his feet to touch the ground. Xen inhales and exhales deeply, taking in long breathes of air to calm his body and mind. A battle with dangerous and numerous enemies requires a clear and sharp mind, void of all distractions.

[Tinnok]

That was when she heard it, the 'ssss' in the man's words. Well that would explain why he was running at least, and why he was content to have her help. She didn't think Dhani were so trustworthy of strange looking strangers. She tried to imaine any of the ones she had gotten to know over the past year reacting the same way in a situation. Aka probably would have set her on fire, Svan would have made snide remarks and probably tripped over himself trying to get away from both her and the Myrians, and Mamoru? She wasn't sure what he would do...

Her breath caught in her lungs from running too far too fast and her pace began to slow, calling out to Xen. "Get ready." Two finely sharpened steel daggers slid out of her belts, her fingers gripping the tight leather handles loosely as put her back against a large tree, waiting for the Myrians to show themselves.

"Care for arrows." She warned the viper, crouching low to the ground. Hopefully their pursuers wouldn't expect a full stop from the pair of sprinting individuals. She heard another bird whistle, but it was muffled behind the foliage and she couldn't catch what kind of signal it was giving to the Myrian fang. That was when a tanned form exploded out of the giant ferns in front of Tinnok, a large hand axe slicing towards her skull as if to split it like a melon.

She brought her daggers up just in the nick of time, the blade of the axe cutting a vertical scratch on her forehead that began to dribble blood down her face, running into her left eye and impeding her vision. Tinnok snarled and lifted her right knee up, kicking her opponent squarely in the groin. A yell followed and the male that had been attacking her began sinking low, trying to keep his feet. Tinnok wasted a precious second in wiping the blood away from her eye, then grabbed the man's hair in one tight fist, pulling his head back and stabbing the dagger in her free hand through his throat.

He managed to stop the blade with an upraised hand, crying out in pain as the point dug deep into the flesh of his palm. That was when two more Myrians jumped into the fray and Tinnok heard the whistling of arrows as they sailed through the canopy towards them. Let's see what your made of Dhani.

oocFor the sake of our heroes (?) I'm going to say there are eight of these buggers, sound good?

[Xen]

‘‘Thanksss for the warning. ’’

Xen stops running, pauses and places his back against a nearby tree for cover, his grip tightening on the handle of his katana. While he did feel somewhat secure behind the tree, he still needed to know where the bowmen were. The silence in the jungle didn’t help the situation either: it just adds fear and anxiety to the suspense. Xen could hear the bird calls and wasn’t so certain that they were from the birds he was accustomed to hearing in jungle. But as he listens and witnesses Tinnok’s reaction to them, he became aware of the deception. Xen pulls his katana from its scabbard but only does so slightly and allows only a small portion of the sword to be exposed to the sunlight.

A tall myrian emerges from the jungle brush, wielding a machete. The whole of the weapon was of wood while the blade was the jaw bone of an herbivore—its teeth was sharpened evenly, giving it a sharpened edge. The myrian charges forward and swings his weapon, aiming for Xen’s head. Xen crouches and ducks out of the way, allowing the myrian’s weapon to embed itself in the tree’s bark. The myrian tries to retrieve his machete from the tree but the stubborn plant holds onto the weapon. Xen responds quickly, he unsheathes his katana and swings upwards, vertically.

The myrian jumps backwards, avoiding the tip of Xen’s blade. When the myrian does this, Xen slides his left foot backwards and bends his right leg slightly. He lowers his katana and brings it to his left side, where he places both hands onto its handle and jumps forward. The myrian had little time to regain his footing and tries to grab his opponent, taking no heed to Xen’s expeditious movements. Xen swings his weapon to the right and cuts a horizontal line across the myrian’s stomach. The man yells in pain and grasps at his stomach, as blood spills from his wound and stains the jungle floor. The myrian had saved his life for the moment, as his previous attempt to grab Xen helped him avoid disembowelment—yet was not thankful for a shallow wound.

Xen clicks his teeth in disappointment. He wanted to finish his foe off with that second strike! Xen’s inexperience with his katana was beginning show, as he turns around and swings countless times at his foe. The myrian raises a hand to defend against the weapon and losses four fingers in the process. Xen’s second strike misses but his third stroke cuts down the poor man’s left thigh and into his knee. The sight was gruesome. Xen continued to swing his blade wildly until the myrian had nothing to place in his katana’s wake.

The poor man pleaded for death at this point, his opponent was so terrible at wielding his weapon that it was like he was trying his hardest to fail. The myrian lunges at Xen with an open mouth and attempts to bite him out of desperation. Xen just sticks out his blade and allows the warrior to be transfixed on his weapon. The katana pierces through his chest, his right lung and protrudes through his back. A burst of blood escapes the myrians chest once Xen pulls his weapon away. The man drops to his knees with an expression of solace—he would finally be freed from Xen’s poor swordsmanship.

Xen finishes the poor warrior by placing the tip of blade of his Katana onto his throat and slicing it with one clean stroke. The victory was short lived as Xen heard the sound of objects breaking through the canopy. The ominous sound of death hurtling towards him forces Xen to sprint, duck and hide behind a tree for cover. He looks at Tinnok, who seemed to know who they were dealing with and nods in her direction.

‘‘Damned Myrian’sss ’’Xen thought.

oocIt sounds very good!

[Tinnok]

From one opponent to three, Tinnok grimaced in annoyance. Her back was to a large tree, daggers gripped in either hand, trying to relax her grip on them despite the danger. First she would tend to the already injured male. One advantage the half breed had was speed and agility. They didn't know what she was capable of, but they would soon find out.

Tinnok darted forward. She stabbed with her right arm into the injured male's gut, but this move was a feint. It drew his weapon to block and allowed her left hand holding her other dagger to powerfully, if not shakily swipe across his neck, splitting the soft flesh of his throat open, a gush of crimson welling up and out, his eyes widening before his hands went uselessly to the gaping wound, body collapsing on the ground.

But there was no time to rest. Both of the dying male's compatriots were attacking, one with a gladius, the other with a short spear. Tinnok ducked and rolled clumsily over a large root, just wanting to get away and get herself some room. An arrow sank into the bark where she had just been as she jumped to her feet and moved around to the other side of the tree, using it as a shield.

Her two Myrian attackers came at her from either side of the great plant, a female throwing the shortspear bodily at her chest. It was a strong throw, and not something she could simply deflect with her daggers so the half breed rotated on her right foot, creating a smaller target. Despite dodging the brunt of the attack the tip of the spear grazed her hip, taking a chunk of flesh with it and causing her to moan softly in pain, grinding her teeth and sprinting towards the male witht he gladius.

The half breed was torn, completely and utterly. On one hand her mind screamed with rage at the fact that she was murdering her Myrian compatriots. She had grown up alongside people such as these, seen where they lived breathed, laughed and cried. When scouts found their dead bodies she could imagine the faces of their children, siblings, parents at news of their deaths. Even with Dira's power to put Myrian souls right back into the bodies of unborn Myrian infants, it was still a sad thing to hear the death of someone you cared for.

But there was another part of her, one that had been hidden in a dark and dusty corner of her psyche for so long. A part of her that relished this act. For over 2 decades she had been taunted, shamed, insulted. Pegged as the screw up, the monster. She had learned from myrians well, she was an expert with her daggers, quick with her bow. She knew how to watch and listen, to kill effectively and quickly. They had taught her that much, and now she was delivering her payback a thousand fold upon her prosecutors.

So she sprinted toward the Male with the Gladius, and there was a gleam in her eye, and a twisted smirk on her features as she leapt into the air, one leg straightening and hitting him directly in the chest, casuing him to stumble backwards, and she didn't let him catch his breath. As soon as her left foot hit the ground her knee bent and tumbled forwards, diagonally and behind the male, chopping witht he butt of her dagger into the back of the male's knee, completing his stagger and sending him tumbling to the ground heavily. This allowed her time to raise both hands into the air, plowing them downwards with mighty force and sinking both daggers into his stomach and wrenching them viciously into his innards. His cry made her mind itch with wonder. Wonder at how easy it was for her to kill her people, but they couldn't be her people....for they would never admit such a thing.

She had nearly forgotten about the female, but soon remembered when two powerful hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing the air out of her esophagus.

"Die you shyking snake. DIE!"

oocSincerest apologies for the delay!

[Xen]

Xen could feel the arrows knocking against the tree he hid behind—the enemy was angry. He had killed one of their comrades after all and did it quickly. Xen found no satisfaction in killing and he disliked it. However, murder was inevitable, he knew this, and the constant killing of animals for food and the ruthlessness of the constrictors desensitized him. Xen was caught between two battles: his own and Tinnok’s. He needed to help her but he’d risk taking an arrow in the back. A drop sweat cascades over Xen’s cheek and falls to the ground, as the seconds weighed on his mind. When arrows ceased to bombard his hiding stop and the silence returned. Xen dashes forward with his katana lowered towards the ground.

There should be enough time for him, Xen believed as he made his way towards Tinnok. There was a moment where Xen thought he heard an arrow making his way through the canopy. Although he heard the arrow , it was only seconds later did he believe this to be an illusion of his own mind. The archer after him was either out of arrows or plotting something in secret yet would be too late to stop him. Xen raises his weapon and swings with the female myrian’s neck as his intended target.

The weapon slices through the air and makes contact with the back of the myrian’s neck before Xen was tackled from the side, his blade slicing across the female myrian’s back.The myrian that tackles Xen punches him in the temple with his right fist and holds down his weapon hand with his left. Xen clinches his teeth in response to the pain and plunges his three fingers into the myrian male’s left eye.

The response was fast and sudden! Xen pulls back his left hand and rips the myrian’s eye from its socket—an eye for an eye. The myrian, he thrashes and twists in agony on the ground, spouting incoherent gibberish from his mouth before Xen punches him in the throat, silencing his speech with a hard left. Xen pushes the myrian off him and wobbles to his feet. The look in his amethyst colored eyes spelled misfortune for his foe. The myrian flings dirt into Xen's eyes and kicks Xen in the gut, during his momentary blindness.

Xen tumbles into and through the dense undergrowth with his eyes burning. In the undergrowth he allows his eyes to water and keeps them open as he uses his shirt to wipe them clean. The process was painful but effective, allowing him see once more. Xen lies on his stomach and watches as his foe takes his katana and searches for him in the undergrowth. This situation was bad: he had no weapon and was unsure of the enemy’s numbers. Xen was only aware of the archers and his current foe yet even this was unsettling. However, time was of the essence and he could not leave his companion behind.

Xen closes his eyes and concentrates on his inner djed: which then ignites within him, responding to his will. Xen then guides the djed to his hands and mouth, allowing it flow undisturbed to these areas of his body. A bead of sweat travels down Xen’s forehead—nervousness beginning to rise. A seemingly endless chime passes before the accumulated djed was ready. Xen’s teeth and nails sharpen and become more distinct as he morphs. When the process of morphing felt complete, he opens his eyes and finds the myrian that was after his life to close for comfort.

The myrian swings the katana into the undergrowth and misses his target by an inch. Xen rises from the undergrowth and swipes the myrian across the face with his claws. The myrian swings the katana at Xen, cutting him across his left cheek. Xen had no time to wallow in pain. He tackles the myrian to the ground and begins to pound away at the warrior’s useable eye. Xen knew he needed to get back his katana and places all his strength behind each thrust of his fist. The myrian yells and thrashes as Xen smashes in his eye and renders him blind. Xen would soon find his hands coated in blood and a beaten and broken soul beneath him.

He takes his katana with shaking hands and starts stabbing the incapacitated myrian with it. Xen stabs once: puncturing the left lung and again puncturing the right. He stabs again and hits the myrian’s heart. Only to stab again but through his defeated foes throat. Xen was not use to killing people: he had only killed animals for food his whole life. This anxiety from taking lives was getting to him, which caused him to shake—his heart to race. The disturbed Xen ten remembers his comrade and steps over the mutilated corpse of his foe.

He rushes over, taking only a few many steps before his katana’s blade glides through the female’s myrian’s flesh, as a hot knife would through butter and pierces through her chest. Xen pulls back on his weapon, his breath fleeting. He knew they needed to move into the dense part of the jungle before the archers released their arrows, as death came quickly with them. Xen stood next to his companion with an extended hand.


‘‘Thossse injuriess won’t be doing you any favorss.’’


He had a flicker of hope in his eyes, believing he could show Tinnok that he was no threat to her. The situation required a party of two, as the enemy may be trying to surround them. That would definitely lead to their death and Xen did not want perish in a jungle: where some animal would feed on his corpse or some myrian would showcase his lifeless body to his comrades.

oocOh! Well look who’s back and all is good.

[Tinnok]

Her face turned blue, her fingers clawed at the woman's hands, trying with all of her strength to pull them away. She felt a thrill of fear well up inside her gut, and she pulled at it hungrily, feeling a glorious sensation rise from her center as she pulled djed up, forcing it into her fingers as quickly as she could muster...an event which seemed like agony. The silvery res shot out of her fingertips uncontrolled into the woman's face. She has meant to guide it into her nose and mouth, not even bothering to turn it into water, but when you were being choked to death...finesse was a hard thing to find with magic.

It still loosened her grip, however, and the half breed ripped her neck away, spinning while sucking in deep lungfuls of glorious oxygen, her dagger already ready in her grip when she realized that her opponent...was dead, the Dhani standing over her, offering a hand.

At the reminder of her injuries, Tinnok only nodded, one hand grabbing a fallen dagger and sheathing it, wincing as she took the man's hand and stood, blood slowly spilling out of the chunk in her side.

"Arrows." She warned, not knowing the common word for 'archer'. Her neck was raw, yet her gut was churning, trying to convince her to cast more res. And what good would her natural element of water do her here? The sweet whispers in the dark corners of her mind seemed to have nothing to say to that.

Her hand went from grasping Xen's to grabbing his wrist as a whistle of arrows could be heard overhead. She dragged him bodily around the trunk of the nearest tree, seeing one arrow arc dangerously close to where they had just been, burying itself midway up its shaft into the ground.

She let out a breath, every piece of air painful both in her throat and her side, and drew her long bow from across her back, notching it with one of her barbed arrows.

"I am not best..." she searched for 'archer' again but couldn't find it, and settled for, "Arrow."

"But can shoot strong. You look out, tell me where arrow come?" Her face scrunched up in annoyance with her own lack of common, hoping the Dhani would understand what she meant. He could tell her where the arrows come from, she would shoot the archers.

[Xen]

Xen found Tinnok’s speech pattern weird and slightly humorous. Though, he would’ve told her directly but since she did not know him nor did he know her too well—he suspected she would throw him to the Myrians…maybe. That moment would have to wait another time. He needed to expose the archer or archers for Tinnok to shoot them down. So, Xen peeks from around the tree he and Tinnok took cover behind once silence returned to the jungle.

There was something about this situation that gave Xen the chills: it was like a set up for death. He ducks behind the tree once more and peeks out to check the status of his environment. The moment his head left the safety of the tree entirely: an arrow cuts through the canopy and cuts across his left cheek. The arrow fails to embed itself, it only grazes Xen’s cheek and impales the tree some meters behind him. Xen retreats into the safety of the tree with a hand placed on his cheek.


‘‘I think there’sss one ahead of uss, ssome feet away in the branchess.’’


Xen places his back up against the tree and slides down with his shoulders brushing against the bark. He feels the solid earth beneath him and sits back against the tree—tired and anxious. The katana shook within Xen’s grasp, as blood coats its handle. There wasn’t much he could do at the moment besides calm himself and return his morphed limbs to normal. A breath of air escapes Xen’s mouth as he concentrates. The djed, which transformed his appendages, slowly returns his nails and teeth to normal. He could feel his muscles contorting and relaxing: returning to their original state. Xen flexes his hands and moves his jaw around. The art of morphing was taxing at times but he believed it would pay off once he became familiar with the magical discipline.