Snippet #2768543

Mara felt like a fawn following its mother. Keeping close to Callion's heels, firing arrows as best she could, she couldn't stop trembling. The trembling only grew worse when Callion dropped his sheild. She heard Ragnar call for them to protect the wizard, but how? 

The horde of undead lurched toward her, Mara froze. She glanced toward Callion, crouched and muttering. He was gazing at something faintly twinkling in the air, as if fireflies had formed words for him to read. Around him, the others felled the undead, doing as Ragnar asked. But she couldn't find a clear shot with her bow, they were too close! 

Breath near her nape reminded her just how close. Mara screamed, jumping and lashing out with a leg like a startled mare. Her booted foot connect with the creature's head, with enough force to send it sprawling. It made a sickening squelching sound as it landed in nearby rubble. But more closed in, as if sensing her weakness. She frantically loosed two more arrows, but both shots missed in her panic. 

Mara faintly heard herself whimpering and cursed herself for her fear. She curled her arms in tightly, fists clenched. Was she strong enough to punch these things? And if so... what happened if they managed to bite her? Were they poisonous? She didn't know much about undead things... but she was out of arrows. As her mind toiled over what to do without a weapon, a sea of red hair moved through the horde to her aid. The groans were muffled by the sounds of bones crunching beneath steel as Phaedra fought beside her. She felt a twinge of relief mixed with guilt.

Mara had never been in a fight before. She had always run. But...people needed her. She had promised the king himself! With a cry, she threw her right fist out, swinging wildly. She managed to make contact with a decaying forehead. She felt her stomach roil at the sensation as the brittle skull caved with her swing. The creature crumpled. Either she was stronger than she thought or these things were weaker than an inexperienced farm girl, she wasn't sure which. 

The feisty red head paused for a brief moment amidst the chaos to glance over at Mara. Phaedra slammed her right dagger into the skull of the closest undead. With her hand free for no more than a second, she pulled another knife, smaller in size but still an edged weapon, from the seam of her corset. "You'll break your hands," She said as a warning, motioning her head toward Mara's approach of punching those things in the head. Phaedra quickly handed the blade off to Mara before retreiving her own dagger from the creature's skull. 

Mara took the blade, nodding her thanks. She hadn't thought of breaking her hand, though a glance down showed her knuckles had split and were bleeding freely down her wrist. She hadn't felt it. Really, even as she stared at the blood, she questioned if it were really hers. 

There was a loud groan by her cheek, and with a yelp, Mara spun and jerked the blade forward gracelessly. She stabbed the thing in the stomach, which it didn't seem to like, but also didn't stop it. It pushed forward, further sinking the blade into its flesh as it pawed at her. Mara made a disgusted sound and gave the creature a well aimed kicked to the chest, freeing the blade and regaining distance. 

Mara felt her breath quicken with anxiety. She was no good at this. What had she been thinking when she'd agreed to this? Well, this might even still be better than being back with her father. But here, she was truly a burden. 

The corpse never truly regained its balance to start nipping back at Mara, twig-like arms grabbing sightlessly at the air, mouth gawped open to display rotten, blackened teeth. A hand wrenched it further backwards, pulling down by the shoulder and tossing it to the ground before a familiar axe ended its warbling. Garos joined them at their side, looking a little worse for wear. Sweat trickled from his jawline, and dropped onto the ground whenever he swung himself back into the fray. Upon close examination… it seemed as if it was blood. A line dribbled lazily down his hairline, smeared where he must’ve wiped his hand across. A smatter of who-knows-what decorated the front of his leathers; more gore that’d be troublesome to clean off. 

Glancing their way, he dislodged the axe free from the corpses’ chest and grinned wide, as if he had anything to grin about here, in this wretched place. Relief, maybe. He drew closer to them, though he faced outwards only to fell another corpse. Seemed as if he’d heard the order well enough. Protect Callion.  The half-orc seemed only too happy to follow along with orders. Perhaps, it was in his nature to do so. His shoulders tensed as snapping jaws hobbled closer, and he stepped forward to swing his axe once more, cleaving through an arm, and following through into another’s torso. He gained some ground with a deft kick to the sternum, much like she had.

Seeing Garos seemed to snap something back into place. Some kernel of courage, unearthed in her chest. Mara cried out, in anger or fear, she wasn't sure which. Like a cub trying to roar. Feeling emboldened by Phaedra and Garos's presence, she hefted herself atop the crumbled remains of a home and using the leverage, began to launch herself onto the back of the nearest creature. As she hung in the air, she held the  knife in both hands and swung downward for the strike. Yet, before she felt the impact there was a blinding flash of golden light. Mara flinched from the brightness. She felt the hairs on her neck and arms shiver, and a sensation similar to being flung to the ground during her father's rages filled her chest. Was this... what magic felt like? 

When the light faded, Mara found herself standing on a pile of unmoving corpses. She stared in amazement out across the ruined town, to see all the creatures had stopped and appeared to be now actually dead. Not far from her perch, she heard Callion remark that the danger was done. Relief surged through her tiny frame. She could feel the tension in her shoulders unknot and much to her shame, felt the warmth of tears roll down her gore streaked cheeks. She quickly swiped at them with her filthy sleeve as she carefully climbed down from the mound of unmoving dead.

Her body trembled, a leaf in a breeze. She tottered unsteadily toward Phaedra and Garos. She could feel her braided hair plastered to her nape with nervous sweat. 

  "T..thank you both... she murmured, voice raspy.  

 Before Mara could attempt to give Phaedra back her blade, the red head extended her hand to stop her. "Keep it. It suits you," she said as she wiped her daggers off on tattered cloth wrapped around one of the corpses. "It suits you." Mara looked at the blade dubiously. It was clear she disagreed, but she only tucked it into her tattered cloak lining. 

Mara wanted to say more. She wanted to apologize for being weak, burdensome, but the words all felt trite. Instead, she began to busy herself with her pack, trembling hands, finding herbs and bandages and a vial of salve she had made back home.  

  "Garos... that blood...is  it yours? And Miss Phaedra, how do you fare? If,If anyone is injured... I have enough herbs to help." Mara glanced toward Callion, seeing him seated, she wondered if he had used all his energy for that spell. She didn't see any large wounds on the wizard from here. 

As Mara approached, the concern seemed to have left Garos’ face. Perhaps, he thought their chances better than they’d been before. He seemed confused for a moment, eyebrows drawing together, before he drew a hand up and touched his forehead. When his fingertips came away wet, her drew his head back and laughed, eyes amused. “Just a scratch. Must’ve hit my head in all the fuss.” The fuss, as if nearly being gobbled by inhumane creatures was something small and insignificant. There were deeper scars there, lining his forehead and tipped across his lip. This, it seemed, would be another.Mara was not bold enough to insist.

"I'm fine," Phaedra replied as she pulled a cloth from her satchel and began to clean herself the best she could. The woman didn't seem to be any pain, but she looked otherwise. Not much was left of her blouse and what remained was held in place by her corset. Pale, freckled arms were covered in scratches, blood and who knows whatever else. And the bandage Mara had fastened around the red mane was long gone. Mara watched the woman for a moment, brow furrowed with concern. Yet still, she was not able to insist she be allowed to check her wounds either. Garos's voice drew her attention,

“I dunno about you all, but before we settle down and lick our wounds, I’d like to find a nicer spot. Y’know, less smoulder. Less bodies.” He gave Mara a wink, whirled on his feet and closed the distance between he and Callion. Despite everything else that had just happened, Mara felt her face go hot when she caught the wink. She was glad his back was to her. She watched as Garos hunkered down beside the wizard’s grasshopper-thin frame, already wrapping one of his arms around him. He stooped lower to snatch up the staff, only long enough to push it against Callion’s chest and draw them both back up. A small laugh sounded with a tinge of surprise, “Gods, yer’ light as a feather, Cal.”  

Mara hurriedly looked away before Garos could catch her staring. As she turned, Mara saw Cecilia in the corner of her eye, bloodied, but not as plastered with filth as one would expect, possibly due to the range her rapier provided her. She seemed less concerned about leaving the devasted village and more focused on gathering whatever samples of flesh she could from the corpses. "I'm not sure what use this will be to us now that whatever magic kept them mobile has been completely removed... but it's worth the attempt if it'll get us closer to figuring out what happened here."

Surprisingly, out of everyone to offer up a solution, it was the mysterious stranger. "There's another town about... 10 miles that way." Phaedra pointed West with one of her daggers before sheathing it. "It's not close, but there isn't anything closer that people haven't abandoned." Her head fell slightly while she pursed her lips. "Some people I know work there. We'll have food and beds." With that Phaedra hooked her thumbs around her belt, shifting her weight to her left leg.

Mara nodded, absorbing Phaedra's words. "Thank you... that will be most welcome... please... lead the way." Mara scanned their battle worn group. Everyone here could surely use a rest... and a bath.

She hoped once there, she could manage to treat everyone,maybe she would feel less shaken and could find the courage to insist.