❝ Thirty-two paths; marvels of wisdom — Hath God engraved.
Twenty-two letters; given substance through being — Hath God spoke.
Ten books, blessed by his light to guide his kingdom — Hath God wrote.
Four rites granted to his children for their devotion — Hath God given.
And one man, destined to claim the world — Hath God ordained. ❞
— Guidepost for the Saints; Chapter One — Clause One
---o---
The sweet scent of petrichor was cut through by a sharp smell of ozone, an impending roll of clouds that threatened roars of thunder and arcs of lighting danced upon the horizon. Sodden hills of mudded green parted the crown of oaken spires and their canopies of lush greenery, which only allowed brief iotas of the moonlight from the two moons that hung far above. The rhythmic beating of hooves upon soil road echoed as a single silhouette breached the treeline, followed by another. Before long, a dozen figures clad in black pursued their lone quarry — shouts of various orders and curses muted by the gallop of horses and downpour of rain.
A sense of being hunted. A pulse of adrenaline coursed deep through veins, stifled attempts to steady breath, and hands blunted the growing anxiety of one’s approaching pursuers. Yet it was not fear nor apprehension painted upon the shrouded face of the pursued nor gleamed in the set of pale blue orbs that remained focused. Determination and stoicism beckoned one’s hold over one’s emotions, an ability to retain composure in the face of danger. It did not help that her squad had separated, so she lacked the much-needed backup. The awareness of fatigue of both rider and steed begrudgingly moved forward, yet they could not maintain distance. Time ran like sweat, and it was becoming evident that options were limited. Were there no other options but to confront them? Did she have enough strength to do so?
She had to think quickly, taking note of the wooden poles periodically placed as markers along the road and to house the occasional lamppost. Reaching down to grab a spool of twine from her belt, she raised it to her mouth to take the wire between her teeth. Balancing herself on the saddle while haphazardly threading the wire into what appeared to be a double-barrelled dart gun hidden in her left sleeve. Her aim wasn’t the best, but upon reaching the next set of perimeter poles, she waited until it was cleared before turning and taking aim over her shoulder. When she fired them, the darts made no sound, cleanly hitting the poles on both sides, causing the thread to pull tort.
There! A dead and dying tree on the verge of collapse, potentially from the hammer of thunder above, smouldering somewhat but perfect to delay. Once more, her arm reached out, though the wire protruded was thicker this time and remained connected to her palm. Using her momentum and strength, she pulled on the trunk, just able to slip beneath it before it came crashing down onto the small wooden bridge that went over a small river beneath, almost entirely insignificant but something else to give her time.
She felt a brief pang of pride in her quick thinking, resulting in two, no – three of the bandits falling into the traps, and even more as the group ran right into it. The first’s horse tripped over and sent him flying; the second and third ran right into the first, causing a decent roadblock, though the remaining hunters split and made their way around rather than through but did serve to widen the distance between them. It was far from over, and that trick wouldn’t work a second time. She was running out of options and opportunities, unable to shake off her hunters. There were other things to use, but they were far from the best situation to use them in. Plus, the occasional scare of crossbow fire aimed at her made multitasking difficult.
It mattered not when her horse suddenly buckled and collapsed to the ground as she attempted a sharp turn. The young girl was caught entirely off guard and was flung forward and narrowly missed a broken neck but still felt the hard ground she fell into, the momentum causing her body to slide across the mud and stone beneath her. Yuck! The taste of mud and whatever else had congealed into the mess of her unexpected dinner. The girl wretched and attempted to spit it out, wiping her face to no avail. Despite having shielded her head from the impact, her vision blurred as she struggled for the breath that had been forced out.
Winded and injured, her focus shifted to her steed, which now lay dead before her, not being as lucky as her not to break its neck. There was no arrow to indicate injury, but by a quick examination, the horse appeared to have caught its leg in a small segment of waterlogged road that collapsed into the nearby grass. Damnit! Unlucky but not entirely unexpected. The area was known for its poorly maintained infrastructure, but it was an irony that wasn’t lost on her.
The young woman coughed, struggling to pull herself up and almost collapsing once more when she felt the sharp pain run through her right arm. She didn’t need to check it to know it was broken; the familiar shooting pain and inability to move it concerned her, but she had no time or levity to assess it correctly. Sharp pains as she breathed, perhaps a broken rib or two. The growing awareness of being out of her depth and far too injured to fight. Still, she pried herself up to her knees, but getting to her feet was much more complicated than desired. Blood covered her face, cuts and bruises from her fall and perhaps earlier confrontations marked a relatively youthful visage.
❝ Ugh, Fuckin’ roads. So much for that distance I made. ❞
Having her hood pulled from her revealed the head of long, ashen-pink hair which seemed to reach down her back beneath the tattered shroud she wore. Her name is Elly, a soon-to-be “Knight” of sorts, rather one in training. Yet, as of now, she was a mere child, a brat! Barely thirteen years old and faced up against hardened mercenaries. Her outward calmness indicated this wasn’t the first time and surely not the last — a mere facade to hide the growing unease.
Elly glanced at the scene around her, a poorly maintained road that winded through the dale and into the forest, branching off to lead into the small villages that dotted the countryside. There is not one close by, though. There are still a few good clicks from the nearest settlement, and even in this storm, it would be difficult to take notice of the commotion. She was alone, cornered, and left with no option but to fight or run. Her fatigue and injuries cast doubt on her capacity to take on her opponents, who far outnumbered her.
Her left arm shifted to touch her right as though to make sure it was indeed broken, wincing in pain yet managing to move a finger or two, which touched upon a small pouch attached to her belt, which displayed a variety of items, though most damaged from her fall. Elly seemed visibly irritated upon confirming that the small flasks she had on her belt had shattered or had been lost entirely. A somewhat frantic pat down her thigh confirmed that her sword was still there. Well, it was a small dagger, if anything, but still, something she could use despite knowing her limited ability with her arm being out of action. Her actual sword was lost during the initial commotion, and she wasn’t getting it back anytime soon.
❝ Oi! This way. ❞
Elly hated the idea, but she had no option but to run. Thankfully, she was familiar with the area and noticed a broken mill in a nearby field. It was long since abandoned, but she could at least hide and perhaps evade her pursuers. Or, at the least, it could give her time to assess her injuries and, if lucky – set traps. The time for deliberation was over, so she ran. Well, waddled at a brisk pace as she fought off the waves of pain felt through her small frame that was surely not fit for fighting the gruff and burly mercenaries she found herself prey to. A trapped and injured rabbit who got too big for its size and tried to take on the fox to its detriment. Foolish!
It wouldn’t take long for her pursuers to find her, quickly determining her location from the path through the tall grass that led to the old mill. Luckily, it wasn’t too far, but it took longer than desired with her current state. Finally reaching the small corn mill, her eyes scanned her surroundings. Most of it had collapsed and rotted from dilapidation. There is not much to work with, but perhaps enough to manage and hold out until reinforcements arrive.
Taking up the first spot she saw, Elly leapt through the unframed window and into a small shed. It was dark, and the small drop-down made her stumble, but she caught herself on some old machinery. Her eyes adjusted to her environment rather quickly, the dull blue shifting to a more vibrant hue. Luckily for Elly, she could see in the dark but cautioned her surroundings to avoid rusted metal and collapsed structures. Her foot almost slipped between a few broken boards that possibly covered a lower portion of the mill. The stairs to the higher floors were unusable, so the possibility of using them wasn’t reasonable, but she assessed a few possible vantage points.
Pressed for time, Elly made a few preparations for her guests. But first, she had to tend to her wounds, taking shelter in a small alcove on the second floor that gave her clear views of the mill’s interior and an escape route from the nearby window, but the considerable drop wasn’t desirable.
❛ Five minutes. ❜
That was the time Elly gave herself; generous considering her situation but still not enough to set enough traps and tend to her injuries. Thankfully, there were already a few hazards to take advantage of and more time afforded than she realised, her quarries having to see to their fallen comrades and take to searching the wider area, seemingly not native to these parts. Not surprisingly, the forest was thick and surrounded many of these smaller farms and outposts, making it easy to hide and fall victim to such of their sort. Possibly why this place had been abandoned, but her focus turned to her right arm, tearing off the already ripped sleeve of her overcoat, attempting to move her fingers and work out its condition. Definitely broken; the slight prod of broken bone made it obvious and made her nauseous just by looking at it. Her ribs weren’t, which was a relief, but they were bruised and still made it difficult to breathe.
❝ Oh great, just my luck. ❞
Just her luck, indeed. Breaking her dominant arm and the one she relied on the most. Her left arm, the slight metallic sheen beneath torn sleeves, perhaps a hidden weapon or armour. No time to dwell on it. Elly pulled out the strapped belt around her waist, which housed a variety of items, most of which were broken from her earlier fall. Assessing the stock of things she still had left, putting it to the side and reached for a small first-aid kit; at times, the belt felt too bulky for her liking, but it was a staple not only for the knights but any adventurer or soldier worth their salt. Most of the time, Elly coincidentally ‘forgot’ her medics kit at the expense of having her superior chew her ear off. Thankfully, this time, she bought it. To be accurate, her commander, Iris, didn’t let her leave until she had it.
Barely a novice at these things, Elly shuffled through the kit to figure out what was still usable. With limited time, she did not have the time to tend to it adequately. Thankfully, the medic kits issued to the kingdom's knights had quality items and sometimes magick-infused bandages, among other things. Nothing too fancy, mainly assisting with healing and stopping bleeds, and the one thing most needed — Painkillers. Two of these were considered usable, one of which was a local anesthetic and the other being a tonic that, whilst handy to have, was supposed to be a last resort.
It is classed as a narcotic in some countries and most definitely not a generic item a soldier would have. ‘Euphoria’, an elixir of sorts that not only dulled the pain but put one in a state of heightened awareness at the cost of damaging their internal organs if ingesting too much, which was common considering how addictive it is. The former was in a small vial with a needle, which Elly promptly stuck into her shoulder with a wince. Elly hated needles. Whilst it circulated through her arm and began to work, she reached for the second, almost hesitating, but popped off the cork nonetheless and drank the foul-tasting liquid. Bleh! Bitter, almost to the point, wanting to wretch it up but fought back the urge to vomit. Elly expected gradual relief but not a sudden surge, a strange feeling that worked even as she swallowed. Now nauseous but able to breathe properly and move her arm without pain.
Elly took a moment to catch her breath before preparing a sling and a makeshift cast. The first part was the hardest: having to realign her broken arm. Reaching over to touch upon it, the dull ache indicated the drug hadn’t fully worked its way in but had little time left. Taking some of the torn cloth to bite down on, her left hand quickly attempted to push it back into place. Fuck! The painkillers weren’t ready to halt the sudden jolt of pain she felt, giving another veil of nausea to her already sickened state — no time for dawdling, nor time for licking wounds.
It was a stupid idea that would no doubt cause more harm than good, but it allowed her to wrap it up with bandages tightly — using a few collapsible rods that came in the medic kit to act as a support to keep it in place. She didn’t put it in a sling since she knew it would make moving around more tedious. Elly could not use her limited supplies effectively, so she had to put all hope into what was prepared and her ability to make the best use of it. With that out of the way and some of her bleeding stopped, the only thing left was to wait.
---o---
The skies had parted to allow a brief respite from the rain; the skies were dotted with constellations and the glow of its two moons, excellent for visibility but not so great for stealth. The sounds of shouting and hooves upon soil confirmed their arrival. Elly sat perched up by the window, staying hidden while observing their movements. They argued about which areas to search, but once they noticed the trail of blood left from her escape, it was decided. The bandits made their way to the large building, its doors wide open.
A mix of anxiety and excitement. The knowledge that if this failed, then she was utterly fucked. Elly wasn’t the brightest regarding strategy, primarily relying on her strength, so attempting was haphazard and risky. But Elly learned from the best and had picked up a few tricks. It fell silent, swords drawn and crossbows cocked. They hadn’t bought torches or lanterns with them, relying solely on the drab light that managed to make its way through collapsed holes and parted boards.
❝ C’mon...Just a little further. ❞
Focus. Breathe steadily. Words often repeated in her head, her eyes closed, and her senses in tune with her environment. The drug is now in full effect, and pain is non-existent. Usually reliant on her good ear and nose, the sudden presence of a new sense caught her off guard. The vague feeling and faint images imprinted into her mind the locations of her hunters. It was not a rare skill; observation was a staple of a hunter, but not one Elly could use until now. A product of the tonic? Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to question it.
The floor beneath them creaked, eyes and ears sharpened with bated breath. Elly waited for the group from above, crouched down, and was ready to move if necessary. In her left hand, a few small objects were round and wrapped in a black rubbery substance. Despite its limited mobility, she could still move her fingers, which had thin threads wrapped around them. Elly waited, wanting to make sure they were all inside, and as expected, they branched out to search. Now, the fun could begin.
One chance to get this right. The building was well on its way to collapsing entirely, only keeping itself up with a few strong brick walls and thick support beams. The second floor was almost bare bones; much of the flooring caved in, and some parts only showed the wooden substructures. It wasn’t all that difficult, only a few well-placed bombs and a makeshift trigger in the form of a hastily painted signet beneath a loose board.
Elly herself couldn’t use magick well, if at all, but basic sigils conduit chains were child’s play. They didn’t need the user to activate via their power; instead, they reacted to outside interference and, once triggered, were able to respond in various ways. The pinkette was grateful her dark gun wasn’t too damaged and afforded her the ability to broaden her area of survival without having to climb or fret over unstable grounds. For this particular use, Elly had set up a group on each of the support beams, reacting to the activation of the first signet via energy transfer, which made the satellite sigils release it in small bursts. They were linked with ‘stamps’ that acted as a tunnel to transfer information or energy directly instead of into the environment. Her fingers pulled tort, which did nothing noteworthy other than to release her little surprises; the strings loosened so they either fell into or swung against the signets, sparking the reaction almost entirely simultaneously.
Crumbombs weren’t all too special, getting their name from the dust or ‘crumbs’ of concentrated energy, typically in the form of one element or another, giving them a variety of uses. The actual name for these was complicated, but the nickname was so widely used that it was easier to refer to them. In this particular case, Elly used the most common sort, a ‘Pygg’ or firebomb. A staple and favourite of the pinkette, I am always satisfied with the primarily consistent results. These weren’t as powerful as most Pyggs’, but it was enough to make the entire second floor collapse onto the group while leaving the small section of the stable floor untouched, where she watched the spectacle.
❛ Now. ❜
It was surprising how easily the trap worked, only giving her hunters a brief moment of realisation by the signature hissing sound and faint glow as her bombs detonated. The whole building shook, threatening to collapse entirely but managing to maintain its structure. It sent Elly into a coughing fit from the upturned dust and debris, removing any aftermath visibility. Elly covered her face with a rag with her right hand to shield her mouth and her left to stop it from getting in her eyes. It stings! The sudden forced soot making her way into her already sodden lungs and the agitated variety of sand, dust, and other particles was not a welcomed feeling. Thankfully, the drugs were still making it easier to move around, so she had some mobility in her broken arm.
The shockwave caused by the explosion caused Elly to stagger and almost fall off from the small plateau she stood on. Her newly found senses helped determine the state of her opponents. A few narrowly escaped but were incapacitated, none of which appeared to be dead, which was a relief. Elly wasn’t in the business of murder, unlike her little friends here. When Elly managed to piece together the state of the remaining group, a wave of surprise washed over her. They completely unharmed?
❛ Shit! they have a caster. ❜
Elly immediately knew what had happened, but the fact that there was a mage among them was beyond what was expected. Groups of mercenaries like them are well known for their disdain for Magick and occasionally were responsible for the odd murder of countryside practitioners. This wasn’t a typical ragtag group of mercenaries and criminals. Elly had suspected such things when her group was separated; their numbers far exceeded hers. But to have a mage and a decently skilled one amongst their ranks was probably the worst luck she had tonight.
When the plume of dust settled, the telltale aura of energy took the form of a sphere around the group, effortlessly shielding them from the debris. They seemed taken off guard themselves, so they had not expected her imitative, but the mage was well aware and staring right at her. The real fight was just beginning.
❝ Oh, for fucks’ sake. ❞
---o---
Tensions were thick; the mix of anxiety and anticipation electrified the air, her first real battle. The scent of blood pulsing through veins, chest tightened with unease, and a lump in throat threatened to force the contents of her nigh-empty stomach. The nausea was still present, though the pain not so much; oddly enough, Elly felt a surge of vigour that she was sure wasn’t caused by the drugs. Teeth felt sharp, aware she was no longer the prey but the hunter. The bandits expected some initiative, though they believed she had fled rather than luring them here. It was partly both, taking up the opportunity on a risky bet to best use her situation.
Outclassed and outnumbered but not outsmarted. The first trap was a bust, at least to remove two players and reveal one of their cards. Thankfully, Elly didn’t find out once she got too close or was taken by surprise. She still has the high ground and was far from done with her traps. They would be fools to think so! Underestimating her small size and childish looks, hiding her devious nature and cunning, she made good use of. Elly was momentarily frozen, stuck between deciding what course to take now. They knew her location and that she had rigged the building to her advantage. The mage stared her down, an otherwise plain man with short hair, hazel eyes, and a simple overcoat that had hidden the conduit staff he now held pointed toward her.
Despite her tendency to let her mind wander during classes, Elly was aware that most mages could only keep one spell active at a time. With the mage occupied with the barrier, it gave her time to act in whatever manner she thought best. The only entrance into the mill was blocked by debris, leaving the only route to escape behind Elly from the hole, most likely from an exhaust vent that had since fallen. Whatever it used to be mattered little; Elly had long since decided to fight rather than run. Perhaps Elly could trap the group inside the mill until help arrived, but knowing a mage was among them left no doubt that they could just as easily remove the rubble and escape.
What was a few seconds felt like hours, staring down her foes with anticipation and deciding whether to act first. Fuck it. Elly needed to keep the initiative if she wanted to maintain her advantage. Moving swiftly and ducking behind a row of boxes stacked on flimsy shelves that threatened to topple from the scant floor they sat on. The perimeter of the building maintained enough of it so she could switch her position quickly. Elly was almost caught in a sudden burst elicited from the mage’s barrier, confirming that it was dual purpose and made for both defensive and offensive purposes. Thankfully, her nimble nature and the various debris and shelves allowed her to duck and weave, dodging and hiding behind them to avoid being hit. The bolts of crossbows were more trouble, explosive bolts that threatened to collapse her pathway, a few narrowly missing her.
Before Elly could act, she needed to test something: the durability of that barrier, which her trap should have significantly weakened. The Pinkette always made her opponents underestimate her, but it wasn’t an option. Her left arm raised to her side, the same dart gun from earlier pointed down at her opponents and waited for a pause in the offensive. Firing off the handful of small bombs held earlier, they immediately activated upon making contact with the barrier, causing a massive flash of light encompassing the entire building. Hopefully, it would blind a few of them; Elly had closed her eyes to dampen the flash but still felt it.
These particular Crumbbombs were full of Pyxie dust, being the Elementals who took form from light. They were rare and significantly more expensive than the Pyggs used earlier, but the state of her wallet wasn’t a concern. Using her time while the Pyxs blinded her opponents with a continuous output of light. Elly could tell it was a success as the faint presence signature fluctuated as though they were disoriented. The barrier remained; the mage most likely had reasonable control over their energy, so they had decent resistance. It did, however, briefly falter, most likely due to a lapse in concentration. Thirty seconds was all she had to end this before the Pyx’s effects wore off.
❛ You can do this! ❜
Ever the optimist, Elly kept her pace and gave them no time for reprieve. Noticing her platform was now limited with a significant drop and jump onto the next portion, Elly made her choice and jumped. Knowing her speed may be enough to reach the other side, the pinkette chose another course, promptly kicking off the wall with significant force to launch herself right towards the barrier. Her left arm cocked out behind her and forced a burst of air to gain further momentum. Do or die! The long-distance fighting wasn’t her style anyway. Usually, preferring to get up close and personal. Her small stature was misleading to her innate strength, and her decent speed gave her the upper hand in most fights.
Even now, between the force of her kick and accumulated speed, Elly was sure she could get through. Albeit her left arm was her second choice to use, it was all she had. His fingers balled into a fist, arm cocked before slamming her fist right into the membrane of the barrier. It was a gamble, as most barriers are rigged with a counter spell, but her speed was adequate in smashing through the barrier like glass. The momentum of her strike and good aim landed her fist directly into the mage’s face. So satisfying to hear the crunch of nose and crack of teeth from that smug bastard.
Using his body as a support, Elly pushed her heel into his stomach, using the momentum to not only make him fall to the floor but also jump off him. Given how light and agile she is, Elly had much experience using her surroundings and opponents to her advantage, even if it meant using them as a literal launch pad. Keeping her momentum, Elly arched her body so her legs went up and over, a backflip that allowed her to catch her next victim by the throat with her forearm and bicep. Quickly knocking the wind out of him, landing safely, now facing the direction she had come from. Her wrist cocked as a wire protruded, shooting it out to grab hold of one of the swords her foes wielded, disarming him and giving her the chance to land a nasty kick to his face.
Two; no three birds with one stone! Disabling that pesky barrier and the mage who made it, as well as a straggler nearby. The would-be sorcerer was sent flying into the wall, collapsing and out of commission. Elly knew she had just sacrificed her advantage and threw herself into the proverbial frying pan. Surrounded by half a dozen armed bandits who were only now regaining their composure. The cloth that covered her left arm, now torn entirely off, revealed a prosthetic arm of some sort of alloy. The wire retracted, hand forming a clawed posture, not a fist; rather, one ready to use its hidden potential.
With a few seconds left before the light dissipated, Elly sprang into action, relying on her senses rather than sight to fight. Not entirely used to it, but able to make do for now. Her hand reached for the small dagger at her side, unsheathing it and holding it so her thumb rested on the butt of its handle — a parrying dagger, evident by the notched groves designed to catch blades. Though Elly could use her left arm on its own to do the same, she preferred not to damage it potentially.
The drugs were starting to wear off; the dull ache was slowly returning, and the adrenaline granted slowly dissipated — no time for delays.
---o---
Who to target first? Three swords and a mace, with a few crossbows wielded by the men farthest from her. Interestingly enough, her Pyx's knocked out a few of the remaining bandits, remembering that they could also be used to stun people. Good. There are fewer bodies to fight. Fewer, but more than she was comfortable in handling on her own. Think smart! Think smart! You can do this!
Behind her. The sword drawn was the closest and positioned to swing at her. The man stood ready and held his sword out to his side, with the blade pointed downward. A generic position taken for easy upward swings great for parrying, but it was of no concern if he didn’t have the chance. Closing the distance between them, Elly anticipated his strike by leaping upwards to slam her foot down on the flat edge of his blade, forcing it back into the ground as she pirouetted with a decent kick to the side of his head. One down. A crossbow bolt out of nowhere aimed at her face! Unexpected, but she could act in time, raising her arm outward to release another bust of energy, forcing her body and allowing her to miss the sudden attack and give another good hit to her first foe. She landed gracefully from her momentary barrel roll, briefly gaining respite before the fight continued.
The second was already regaining his senses, and he lunged at her from behind, raising his sword to swing downward onto the pinkette, promptly blocking it with her dagger, though almost felt the blade against her shoulder. Pushing upwards and out to her side, unhooking the dagger from his sword, and proceeded to punch him in the face. She was smaller but stronger, especially when she used her prosthetic correctly. It caused him to stagger but not fall. The knee to his chin made up for it.
Trying to block his blows would be a stupid idea, so Elly had to be light on her feet and use his inertia against him. The massive power advantage was evened out by slow movements and relatively easy weak points to exploit. The mace fell, though the pinkette dodged the blow with a swift sliding motion to her left, noticing her opponent had little regard for his comrade, who almost crushed under his mace. Giving him no time to prepare another strike, Elly darted to circle him just far enough that he couldn’t hit her with his mace. He was faster than expected, though she used the quick bursts to give her much larger windows to avoid his violent blows. With the strikes that swung horizontally towards her, she could duck beneath and possibly counter or stagger him by bursting upwards and forcing back his downward strikes. But judging by how burly he seemed, she was dubious about how well her attacks would do against him.
Use his strength against him. Elly knew a few of her traps remained but didn’t want to get caught up in them. The earlier collapse had not affected the area protected by the mage’s barrier, but the surrounding floor was unstable. Remembering from earlier the space below, the pinkette smiled to herself as she danced around his blows that currently only served to break the nearby equipment and a few support beams, precisely the things she wanted him to hit. Her usual devious grin devising a plan to use it to her advantage. She did not speak, though he did out of anger for her agility, telling her to stay still and all. Elly, however, was almost taunting him with the stick of her tongue or a middle finger, such an insolent child!
Changing her strategy, Elly moved to draw him outward and as close to the remaining supports as she could, ducking and weaving his blows while slipping behind the promptly destroyed pillars. Though they were made to keep the upper floor stable, the pillars reached the basement, and the constant hits caused cracks in its foundations. The ground shook, momentarily staggering the two of them, the floor cracking around the foundation. The movement made her feel nauseous, but she fought it back for the moment. Her foe did not seem to catch on to her strategy. Good.
It was taking longer than expected with how slow he was, and they both appeared to be showing signs of fatigue. Elly especially felt herself grow weaker as the drugs wore off. Breathing was laboured, and vision started to blur at the edges. Just a little longer. And finally, after what seemed like hours, Elly managed to topple the last pillar, feeling the floor crack and cave in, but not entirely. Almost falling over from the shaking, her opponent thankfully did, falling into the machinery and dropping his mace. Elly eyed it, working out whether or not she could grab it before he did. Another burst! Keep her speed, which she knew her opponent had no luxury for.
Barely. Elly only managed to take it before he did, not expecting its full weight but managing to pull it with her as she jumped upwards. Swinging the mace around, she did not strike but gained momentum until she was sure it would work. But rather than slamming it down, Elly hurled it into the centre of the floor with another burst of her prosthetic. It collapsed immediately, falling into the cavity below and swallowing the entire floor, and the bandits and debris blocked the entrance. Fuck! She was shrewd and swift but too narrow-minded to make sure she had an escape. Realising there was no longer a floor to land on, Elly looked at one of the remaining supports. The same twine used earlier shot up and out of her arm, though this time, the thread remained connected to her arm so she could swing herself over to the edge, rolling out of the mill just in the nick of time and with a final burst from her arm.
The pinkette just managed to get to her feet, though the drugs were no longer active, and the pain returned with vicious intent. The dull ache in her abdomen was now a sharp pain. One of her broken ribs must have punctured her lung by the blood she coughed up. Well, shit; she may have survived the fight, but maybe not her self-sustained injuries. In pain, but not absent of a toothy, bloodied smile. Staggering forward, Elly held onto her stomach as her right arm hung limp. The brief warmth of the sun was a relief, as well as the sight of her party arriving on horseback, most of which ran right to her as she felt the adrenaline and colour drain from her body before collapsing face-first into the dirt.
