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    1. Tack 9 yrs ago

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The Countess Heidra va Rastenbruck held her head high as she limped into the camp, trying her best to avoid being incident after escaping from the morgue. Her body was quickly crumbling and her flesh had already entered an advanced state of decay: she needed a healer, one skilled in dragon lore, before her body decomposes to the point of uselessness. She felt the pull of the dragon tug her toward Crim's tent, which she silently entered.

"You are a...dragon priestess, I presume?" Heidra croaked in a grating voice. She was not used to speaking. "I need your assistance. I am...wounded, and in need of a healer. Only you will do."

I'm sorry I haven't been posting the past few days, this week was a bit busy for me. I'll find a way to jump in!
Heidra looked fixedly at the events unfolding in front of her. Clearly escape was out of the question, and in this case not even desirable. She knew she had to stitch herself together and she doubted she would receive any assistance from the villagers. The lower classes did not tend to behave amiably toward the undead. In any case, if this half-elf had encountered a dragon, then it was possible she could get both the artifact for the cultists and a potential ally. Events outpaced her, however, as she was eventually slung on top of a horse and carried along toward the Goldenblade camp.

"You fight well," she croaked to the wounded Alexander, as she coughed out some dirt from the road. "Now I would be obliged if you would help me up, sir, and unloosed my bonds. Some of my property is in that caravan, and I would be grateful if it is returned to me."
Heidra instinctively pulled away--after being captured once she certainly wasn't going to get captured again. Then her eyes widened, as something in her body seemed to tug toward him: this man was covered with dragon scent.

How could some common Goldenblade grunt get anywhere near a dragon? Heidra thought in amazement.

She motioned her head toward the Ironbane heading toward them both.

"I believe something more pressing calls for your attention."

She turned her hands flat down on the ground, preparing at any moment to propel herself in another direction.
Soldiers were everywhere--either a bandit or a Goldenblade ambush, though given the discipline of the attack Heidra knew these could be no paltry robbers. She darted a glance across her surroundings, finding a narrow alleyway between an inn and an adjoining house for a potential escape route. With a jump she dashed forward...and fell flat on her face in the dirt. Biting back a curse, she struggled to rise, turning her head back. She hadn't noticed that one of her feet had fallen off. Now she really cursed: she still wasn't used to her decomposing body and the absence of pain to notify her of the state of her body parts.

She also saw that one of the Ironbanes had noticed her escape and was running toward her with sword drawn. With a grunt she rolled her body as fast as she could in the opposite direction, noticing before it was too late she was hurtling toward Leo...
The Countess Heidra va Rastenbruck tugged at the bonds tying her hands behind her back as the caravan lurched forward. She had been careless: stealing an artifact from a mere trade caravan under the noses of a few degenerate Ironbanes seemed an open and shut job. Things didn't go as planned: one panicked shout had an entire squadron of heavily armored guards breathing down her neck. Air blew into the holes and scars that the Ironbane swords had torn into her body before they realized she was an undead. Why they decided to capture her she could not yet guess--but it wasn't her intention to find out.

They had taken away her mask and cloak, leaving the flies to buzz at her skin. All of a sudden, as the caravan approached a village a war cry came up and an arrow flew into the cart driver's brain. Taking advantage of the distraction, she burst out from under the boxes heaped on top of her, dashing desperately for cover.

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