Scout — Roleplayer Guild

The taste of copper in Asta's mouth was strong as they left the slavers' warehouse.  Her blade was now sheathed upon her back as they made their way to the herbalist, chit-chatting and focusing on recovery.  The Ydran didn't talk very much to the others, she was focused on keeping her shoulder steady, her abdomen had stopped bleeding - the injury there had been more superficial than anything, thankfully, but the swelling of her jaw and shoulder injury were rather bothersome.  The group was directed to Nan's, an old shop run by a knowledgeable and talented healer.  Myria seemed to be doing better, but they still wrapped her ankle and made note of her bruised side.  Asta, on the other hand, received a shoulder wrapping on her left side and a cold pack - some kind of strange packet that was able to retain a cool temperature for long periods of time.  The Ydran cared not how it worked, but it soothed her jaw and that's what mattered.  Any who saw her bare arm would notice the cobra fox tattoo, but it was soon covered again.

The time to separate was coming quickly, but Asta was quickly realizing the upsides to tagging along with this group - this could be her chance to step out from under her previous line of employment.  She wished that she had seen it sooner - the evil this job could bring, but instead she was focused on living a life of her own.  Asta's desire to escape the arena lead her down a darker path, one where her opponents were entirely unaware that they were even at battle in the first place.

While at the herbalist, Asta found a moment to speak with Ethan about staying with them - she was looking to move on from this place and find something new so they agreed to allow her along.  It didn't seem like Nymira was particularly in favour of the choice, but there was little she could do about it.  Asta took her place inside the cart, Myria dutifully taking a place beside her.  She looked at the boy from before, the one who had come crashing through the roof so loudly.  He was a strange one, but who was she to judge?  Her gaze moved to the horse pulling the cart to see Nymira, still recovering from her injuries.  The small girl looked a little bit out of place on such a large beast, and hardly at home.  Perhaps she wasn't much of an equestrian, though why she would decide to try leading or riding atop the horse was beyond the Ydran's perception.

She leaned back, rotating her good shoulder, "So...  where are we off to next..?"  She asked aloud, still not entirely clued into the plan or mission she was suddenly on board to help with.

Collab: Scout & Vena Sera

---

Asta took a knee gingerly and looked her companion over.  “You okay, girl?  He hit you pretty hard…”  She muttered with a furrowed brow, running a hand lightly through the cobra fox’s fur.  The beast seemed to understand, but didn’t respond with more than a flinch when the Ydran stroked her side.  The woman sighed and stuck a tongue in her cheek, “Alright…  bruised?”  She asked, touching it again.  The creature winced and took a hop to the side, one of her legs giving only a slight limp.  Asta nodded in understanding, “Find a place to rest, alright?  Go on,” The woman instructed.  Her companion seemed hesitant to leave her behind, but complied as she rose back to her feet and heard a crash.

When the Ydran woman made to the sound, moving as best she could, her blade poised, she found a hulking man bearing down Nymira.  She cursed under breath as she looked around to assess the situation - the dust made the visibility in the room more inconvenient than anything else and she squinted through it to spot a small glint a short distance away.  By now, Nymira was pressed into a wall, feet off the ground as the man wrapped his hands tightly around her throat.  Asta moved for the dagger as quietly as she could, setting down her own blade for a moment to gather her aim…  Deep breath in…  As her exhale met its end, she released the blade for a strong throw, shouting, “Nymira!!”  It drove into the wooden wall, not so deep that it would be difficult to retrieve, but just beside the Dimuran.  Honestly, it was supposed to lodge itself in the man’s back, but in her weakness, Asta felt it leave at the wrong angle and decided it would be just as well in her comrade’s hand.

She readied her blade and began to move toward the man. 

Nymira’s hands, empty now, tried in a futile effort to claw the man’s from her throat. His monstrous strength gave no room for error and now that she was in his grasp her chances were slipping away rapidly. Her lungs began to burn from oxygen deprivation and the corners of her vision began to fade in, if this went on for too much longer she’d lose consciousness, and likely be as good as dead. Barely making out the muffled yell of Asta she followed the dagger with her eyes as it struck the wall near her, hastily reaching out to make use of it. Before the man could grab her and stop her the Dimuran had stuck him in the shoulder with the weapon and forced her release, dropping to the floor and coughing for air as she struggled to breath.

“Agh, damn woman!” the slaver cursed, reaching up and pulling the blade free. “I’ll kill you with your own weapon!” Turning on Asta he began to advance towards her yet halted when an unexpected weight landed on his back. Nymira had leapt onto him and now had her arms securely around his neck, barely fitting but just enough to get a hold and squeeze. Choking he tried to swipe back at her with the dagger and missed having instead to pry her arms off of himself and throw her away towards Asta. “Bitches, I’ll have both your heads!” Fetching his greatsword again he rolled his injured shoulder indifferently before stepping forward, swinging out towards Asta. 

Asta sneered and dropped her sword as Nymira’s body came her way.  She extended her arms, but stumbled weakly as the small, yet surprisingly heavy girl’s weight landed against her.  The Ydran woman put down a foot behind her to steady herself and released Nymira, taking two long strides, scooping her blade from the ground as she did so, and met the man’s heavy blade with parry. 

“Go to hell,” she spat venomously.  Asta pivoted her blade to the side and let the man’s redirected momentum take his sword’s tip nearly to the ground as she moved with her momentum and used the pivot to twirl and swing her sword in an upward slice.  He’d managed to recover just in time to block the move.

“Thanks.” There was little time for talk right now, this man was a force to be reckoned with and had to be stopped here, otherwise the others would be in dire straits. Letting Asta clash with him for a moment Nymira found one of her discarded daggers and waited for his missed swing at the Ydran woman, stepping on the blade of his weapon and using it to jump off of, driving a knee into his jaw before falling to the side and rolling awkwardly as her injured leg gave way. They would have to just wear him down and wait for him to make a mistake, it was clear he was stronger physically than either of them and in far better condition, they were fighting at a disadvantage even with greater numbers. 

Asta took the opportunity to move as the man was struck in the jaw by Nymira’s incoming knee and moved behind him.  She swung her falcata, aimed directly for the back of the man’s knee and his leg crumpled beneath him.  The muscle failed before he felt the pain, but he cried out as he lost all control of the support.  Asta took her retreat for a few steps, deciding how to approach the next stage of attack.  Her eyes moved to Nymira to see what her fellow fighter was doing.

They were making headway, and though her head throbbed and her leg ached Nymira couldn’t allow herself to stop, not for a second. As soon as Asta took out one of the man’s legs she went right after him again, her dagger thrust out at his back in an attempt to draw a grievous wound. For all the pain he was in the man was still quick enough to turn to grab her arm and halt the attack, yet he could do nothing about the second dagger she’d scooped back up. Swinging out with the second she cut across the bridge of his nose and across one eye, blinding him and drawing a good deal of blood, forcing his grip off of her arm. Ignoring his howls of pain the Dimuran backed up one step before driving her entire body forward into his back, knocking him over onto the ground and collapsing on the spot. By now the pain in her head was intense and everything felt like it was spinning, but the man still posed a threat, she had to move.

Asta watched him hit the ground and Nymira took her paces back.  The Ydran made her move, coming up on the man and pulling back her leg swiftly.  “You people deserve to be in the ground!”  She snarled, swinging her foot, aimed for the side of his head.  What came next was wholly unexpected as he snatched her ankle with his one good eye and yanked her to the ground.  The wind left her lungs as her falcata hit the floor a couple feet away and limp-legged brute with his bleeding eye came crawling over her, pinning her to the ground.

“If I’m going to go, I’m taking one of you nosey bitches with me,” He muttered, trying to sit up as best he could with a crippled knee and raising a fist, bringing it down into Asta’s chin.  She flinched at the pain, her head falling to the side as her jaw began to throb. 

Close. So close to finishing him off. Her leg all but refused to support her now and the entire room was spinning, the simple act of standing alone proved to be taxing for Nymira. Gripping her dagger as firmly as she could she rushed to Asta’s aid and went right after the man. Seeing Asta take a hard strike to the jaw she gripped her weapon in both hands and ran at the man’s side, driving the blade forward and burying it into his stomach. It had stopped the assault on Asta and earned her the man’s ire as he swung out blindly, striking Nymira in the arm and knocking her over again. Growling through the pain she crawled back over as he tried to get free, grabbing her dagger at his side and giving it a tug, rending the flesh where it stuck and deepening the wound. They had to kill him now, much more of this and one of them was liable to join him. 

Asta’s mouth burned with pain as it filled with blood.  Shit…  She bit her tongue and the stinging was more bothersome than she cared to admit.  The woman spit blood onto the floor, dragging herself to her feet as the massive slaver swung out and released her.  The woman scrambled for her blade, just barely managing to reach it.  She didn’t hesitate to duck another swipe from the man, who was missing his depth perception.  The woman turned as she got low and shoved her blade back behind her.  The curved falcata left the man from the other side, lodged dead center in his abdomen.  She yanked it free and looked back at him as he slumped to the ground, unmoving.

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