Runner
Near the Southern Route to Groville
What a trip. What an obnoxious… annoying… STUPID trip.
The border, as predicted, was not the hardest thing in the world to cross. The two powerful countries didn't need to build a wall or barrier to keep each other out. Both were either confident in their military might or had their own secret ways of controlling who passed through the border. Well, no matter what it was, Runner had gotten through easily enough. As the low forested hills of Jeya turned into rocky rolling hills carpeted in vibrant green grasses littered with small white and yellow flowers(soprinis really was in full bloom, huh), Runner felt the air change. The magic that seemed to pulse through Jeya had slowly faded with every stride, confirming that she was indeed headed in the right direction.
It was not crossing the border that was the hard part. No, it was what happened before and after crossing. A string of bad luck and ill circumstances chased through the border's wilderness, getting her incredibly lost along the way. The week and few days spent getting away from Bordercrest and into Keldanis were just plain unfortunate.
For example, Her first day in Keldanis, one she would have liked to have spent resting, was instead spent running from a small pack of wolves that seemed to think she was delicious looking. Damn those mutts' noses, they weren't as easily tricked as people's eyes.
Her second day, after losing the canines, was spent trying to dig up what she thought was buried treasure! Hurrah for cursed hands everyone! Hurrah! Much to her hand's disappointment, and her own frustration, the single copper piece on the ground(which looked like it had been there for a dozen years already) did not mean there was a miniature hoard buried a foot underneath the surface of the ground. Nor was there one two feet under. Nor three. Gods, she was worse than a kobold. Eshah.
By the third day, she was long since exhausted and her troubles hadn't even finished yet. A flock of birds, yes, birds, had managed to snatch what few rations she had left. Hells, damn those avians. She could swear she heard them laughing at her. If she wasn't already so damn tired, she may have turned the tables on them and taken one of them for her meal. But, alas, no such luck.
Stumbling over her own feet in exhaustion, stomach twisting itself in knots, and altogether just frustrated, she was beginning to think this country didn't want her there. Huh, now that she thought about it, that did make sense… but did it have to be so cruel about it? Her luck had finally turned itself around by the time she was half-starved to death when she had made it to an actual road. She was found by a strange cleric, who didn't look too much better than she did, but at least he had food to share.
Both of them being roughed up and exhausted seemed to foster trust much quicker than if they had been healthy, thus they had struck a deal. Honestly, the full terms of it are still hazy to Runner. Starvation is a bitch. His name was Baz, and he was a half-orc. Back in Miyet, someone of orcish blood was a rare sight, but apparently they had a homeland far up north, above Keldanis. His rough skin was the color of olives(the green ones) and he was covered in scars. Perhaps from his age(She was always bad with guessing other races' ages, maybe 30? 40?), he seemed to have more experience being on his own than even she had. Runner had also sensed he was more than capable in a fight, not to mention the flanged mace he had at his side looked like it had seen some action recently, perhaps an explanation to his wounded condition.
He claimed to be a priest, although of whom he didn't outright say, but anyone who made that claim in the "holy lands" was either bold, stupid, or telling the truth. After seeing his hand glow briefly after touching a strange symbol around his neck, she was convinced. Their deal was to help each other rest and share supplies. It would allow for her to get some food, and him to get some time to sleep. She didn't pry too much as to what put him in that state, but based on the bloody imprints of fangs on his arms and legs, she could guess just where the wolves went. Oops.
It took them both about a day of rest before they were even close to being able to be reliable on their own, and by then the amount of conversation between her and him had grown, if only slightly. Baz was someone who didn't say very much, yet seemed to get the full picture across. One of those "men of few words" that she had heard about. Regardless, she was grateful that he was a man of his word, as few as they were.
Runner, obviously, had not explained to him anything of her situation beyond her destination and the fact that luck was being hard on her. Much to her surprise, Baz was also heading towards Groville. From where… he didn't say, but it was auspicious that they ran into each other.
It was weird… Runner somehow felt a sort of kinship with this man. He seemed to have a past he didn't want to talk about, as did she. And they didn't talk about it. Which was fine in her book. Instead, over the past two days, the most conversation they had was about their survival. According to him, Groville was still a good week away on foot. He was impressed she had managed to get so far off course so quickly. She was impressed that he was recovering quickly from the admittedly nasty gashes and bites to his legs and arms. His claim to being a servant to the divine wasn't unfounded, only holy magic could heal those wounds so quickly.
Which, of course, brought them back to the present.
Runner woke up with a start, one of her daggers already in her hand as she quickly looked around for her attacker.
"Easy!" Baz hissed, already a foot back from where he had woken her up. She could tell he was recovering from a mild bit of surprise at her reaction, perhaps he had not expected her to be up and swinging that quickly. It was dark, so it was hard to tell just how long she had been asleep past dusk. Runner looked at Baz warily, a silent 'what the fuck' communicated towards the large half-orc. He shook his head and pointed out into the woods around them.
It should be noted, they were camping without a fire. Fire was reserved for dire situations, or for groups of comfortable and safe situations. They had not earned a campfire. They couldn't afford something, or someone, finding them in the dark. But, as mentioned before, Runner could see just find in the dark, albeit in the muted grays that some other races benefitted from. Still, she saw nothing out there. Another quick glance at Baz to see if he was messing with her. It would be the first joke she has seen him perform. And maybe the last, because she was not happy about being woken up.
But the look on his face did not seem like one of a joking man. The scar on his left cheek pulled the skin on his face, making it seem like he was perpetually grinning. Or grimacing? Hard to tell. Either way, his brow was furrowed in concentration, and his mace was in his hand. She took another look out into the woods, trying desperately to sense what had spooked the man.
Another tense minute passed by as Runner listened to the sounds of the wind in the branches. The way Baz wasn't moving spooked her, just a bit. He looked like a fleshy statue, if only given away by the way his dark eyes searched the trees.
Then she heard it. The patter of paws on the forest floor. Detritus being disturbed by several large, furred bodies. Eshah… the wolves were back. First they chased her, then apparently took a chunk out of Baz… and now they want the whole dinner. It looked like Baz was ready to fight. She would rather run, save her own hide while they chewed on the larger meal, but something told her that wouldn't be a wise decision. Not only would she alienate herself from one of the only people who has actually shown her some compassion, she would probably live to regret it. Like, more than robbing an old couple and potentially burning their livelihood down with them inside… wow. She needs to seek help.
Her brain rambling on at a thousand paces a second seemed to catch Baz's attention by the way he waved his hand in her direction. She shook her head, trying to rattle away the feelings of guilt from an increasing amount of sources.
"What's the plan?" She whispered, hoping the older guy would have some semblance of an idea of what to do. For a moment he paused and gave her a look. The very same look he gave her when they first met, a few days ago. He was sizing her up, seeing if she was going to be any good in a fight. Apparently he was satisfied with what he saw.
"Ye hide in the trees. I'll draw 'em out. Take care as many as ye can while they're on me." He gripped his mace tightly in his right hand, his knuckles paling. "I'll try my best to live and take care of the rest."
"What? That's fucking insane! Are you-" He cut Runner off with a sharp look. She clamped her mouth shut and grimaced. Eshah, he was serious.
As quickly and as quietly as she could, she popped the closest tree, getting up about fifteen feet into the branches. The wide leaves swayed in the wind, the branch she squat upon barely bending under light weight. For a moment, she considered drawing the bow. It would be incredibly useful to be able to put an arrow through each and every one of those prowling mutts' skulls… but that was if she could even aim under this stress.
Instead she elected to draw two of her largest daggers, the ones a gnome or halfling could call a little shortsword. Hopefully the pack had spread out. Hopefully they weren't looking for a fight. Hopefully… they survived this.
Baz, down below, had gone to the opposite side of their camp, just a good few yards away from the base of Runner's hiding spot. His head now on a swivel as he picked up on the approaching packs' minute noises. His back bumped against another tree, offering just a bit of protection against enemies approaching from behind him.
And thus they waited. Either the pack would make their move, or they would continue to sit in strained silence.
With a snarl, three wolves lunged for Baz. Their pelts were slated gray and their fangs were practically small knives themselves. Their eyes were locked onto Baz, their prey, as two of them leapt for his throat and the last went for his legs. Runner had to hold in a gasp at just how quickly these beasts covered the ground from the underbrush to Baz's space, but she stifled it. There were more than just three, the rest creeping forward to try and get in on the action.
Despite the wolves' speed, Baz had swung his mace in time to slam it into the wolf aiming for his legs. His forward smash helped tremendously, as the other two wolves quickly found themselves missing his neck and instead tangling themselves and him in a strange threeway collision. The wolf he had initially hit had collapsed, unmoving. Runner didn't need to guess why, for its collapsed skull spoke volumes.
She turned her attention at a snarl below her. The other wolves had managed to catch up, and were about to join in on the fight. As experienced as Baz was, she was sure three more wolves would surely be more than he could handle. She gripped her daggers and mentally aimed herself towards the largest looking wolf. It had a nasty looking snaggletooth jutting out of its snarling maw.
With shaky breath, she launched herself down towards the wolf. If her daggers didn't kill it, at least the weight of her slamming into it may cripple it. Or at least buy Baz a bit more time.
The daggers, reinforced with her body weight, stabbed into snaggletooth's back. Not quite the neck like she aimed for, but it seemed to not make a difference. Runner herself was forced to roll over the now collapsing wolf just to lessen her own impact, her left handed dagger being wrenched out of her hand. Her right handed dagger came with her, spraying her and the other two very surprised wolves with warm blood.
As she tried to get her bearings, she had to quickly dodge the gnashing teeth of one of the wolves lunging for her throat. Shakily getting to her feet, she watched the other wolf stalk behind her. Shit.
She was surrounded.
There was a brief moment where the wolves circled her, snarling and baring teeth ready to rip her apart. She didn't dare glance back at Baz. She wanted to at least die with the hope that he was still fighting.
The wolf behind her struck first, aiming to trip her up so the other wolf can get on top of her and tear her throat out. Runner barely had time to jump to the side, feeling its teeth catch onto her boot. The good news? The boot slid off without too much trouble. Luck had decreed she was too malnourished for a proper fit. The bad news? The other wolf wasn't going to give her much time to recover. In an instant it was already leaping for her.
Runner struck out wildly, trying to sit up enough to not give the wolves direct access to her neck. Her dagger caught some flesh, but it only seemed to slightly deter the wolf rather than stop it fully. She was pushed down by the beast. Fun fact, wolves are much larger and heavier than most domesticated dogs. A fact that, at the moment, was not fun.
Its teeth bit into what armor had managed to protect her in the moment, the oversized leathers had slid up on her to actually protect her for once. Another point to being malnourished she supposed. She stabbed wildly, using her free hand to grab some, any, purchase on the wolf in order to gather more force. In order to kill.
Blood poured on top of her as teeth painfully bit into her shoulder, both of them finally finding some purchase on the other. Its teeth hurt so badly, she couldn't help but scream out. Pain and anger escaped her lungs as she was suddenly dragged from underneath the assaulting wolf, her dagger wrenched free from her grasp as it was left behind in it somewhere.
The other wolf had grabbed her by the calf and was shaking its head fiercely, ripping the tender flesh with its teeth. Runner screamed out again, the pain quickly overwhelming her. Fear, too, was overwhelming her. Her hands scrambled about herself, trying desperately to grab one of her remaining knives to stab, to slice, to do anything to kill this horrid beast. But, slick with blood and aching from pain, Runner was quickly beginning to lose herself.
Darkness was coming. It tainted her vision as she saw the wolf let go of her leg and approach her exposed neck. Eshah… no more… please.
Please?