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Snippet #1299768

located in Shaharan, a part of Assassin's Pledge, one of the many universes on RPG.

Shaharan

Shaharan

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Myr felt it, when he came, but... she couldn't make herself move. Kain was hiding in the bushes, and if she looked to him for assistance, she might well give his position away. Matt was off somewhere in the distance, at any rate further from Shadow than her. If she fled, assuming her ankle would not fail her, she would leave one or both of them open to attack in her stead, and that was something she would not do.

So instead she went still ears attuned to the sound of his approach, the line of her back stiffening slightly. And still, even now, when she knew she was probably about to die, there was no fear. Surely, something was wrong with her. Conquering fear of the controllable was one thing, but... it seemed she had lost all instinct for self-preservation whatsoever. Did that make her strong, or weak?

The monk turned her head minutely to the side, enough to observe him coming, and the corner of her mouth twitched. It was ironic, truly. After fighting for so long to live, to do something with her life, she was going to die having accomplished nothing at all. Shame on her for dreaming too high, perhaps, for trusting in the human spirit like she had. And yet, she could not do otherwise, even now.

Shadow raised his knife, and Myr closed her eyes. She'd never much liked blood; she did not really care to see so much of her own. There was a rustling from the bushes, and Kain shot forward, some kind of needle in his hand. He made contact with Shadow, and the latter fell to the ground, apparently unconscious. Myr stood, moving over to the fallen man and checked his pulse, eyebrows furrowing.

"You knocked him out? Does that end... whatever it is that happened to him?" Her eyes flicked to Matt; he didn't look too well, either, all things considered. For the moment, Kain and Shadow would be fine, so she moved over to the thief. He appeared to be injured in several places, and would probably need at least on splint. Still, there was not quite enough to warrant this kind of dazedness. Leaning over him slightly to check his eyes for any signs that he might be experiencing any sort of concussion, she frowned.

"Matt? Can you hear me? Can you tell me what hurts worst?" It looked like she would have her work cut out for her.

One question remained: where was Mark?