OOC: For
@DragonSong
He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, lips sagging over the idea he was getting
older. Though still seemingly in his prime, his life's work was definitely taking a toll on his body in more ways than he'd like to admit.
Days without sleep, days without end... He was always on his guard, vigilante in his duties to preserve the promised land of Ansgar, his law, and the Great Changes his Grand Duke was ushering forth. Though most couldn't see past the blood shed, this war was a necessary evil, that only a war god like Ansgar could bless.
Connlaoth had suffered greatly, too many years pocked with scarring attacks by the villainous mages. Sure, Ansgar set rules against those with magic, but those who had the 'taint' were as human as the rest-
And men were prone to mistakes. And men were prone to greed.
It was a surprise the Grand Duke assigned him to anything but a watch within the palace grounds itself, but this week, he proposed that Zannrick himself do a personal sweep and surveillance in the city. Although he bristled at such an idea, he'd never refuse the Grand Duke's order- even as he knew a certain woman, a potential
mage remained in the palace.
But the Grand Duke had other dogs to help him, other mordecai almost as well trained as he. Perhaps for this he walked with a stick up his ass, and briskly, as he mad his way across the Bridge of Men from the palace front gates and into Reah.
It was a long bridge, full of merchants from the city, as well as street entertainers, and usually beggars. Ever since the war had begun, it seemed the number begging on the street had risen, and though he could see those suffering from the corner of his eyes, he kept those ice blue eyes forward, marching onward and with purpose and pride.
There were so many people.
Serena was frankly overwhelmed, staring around with wide eyes even as she attempted to duck and weave her way through the crowds on the bridge. She'd expected this of course, it was why she'd chosen to come at such a busy time of day- the better to hide in a crowd- but the reality of it struck her like a physical blow.
Perhaps she'd been spending too much time alone in the woods...
Shaking herself briskly, the young woman moved toward the edge f the bridge, looking out over the water.
This was it. This was the place. She took a breath and glanced around, then slowly pulled a small pendant from the sleeve of her robes, holding it out over the water rushing by below.
The ley lines here were perfect. It was the best place in several hundred miles for divining. She only hoped no one would notice what she was up to before she could manage to slip away.
Everything seemed to be going as normal, the strange looks aside when the people notice just which mordecai was now patrolling the streets. A few suspicious gazes had lead Zannrick to a dead end, until he turned around and noted a lone girl in foreign attire standing at the edge of the bridge and carrying something... odd.
His hand gripped the hilt of his sheathed blade as he strolled her way, blue cape whirling in his wake. He didn't waste much time and called over to the woman, "Halt!" He stood, poised and ready to reprimand her if it came down to it as his blue eyes went to her face, then her hand. "What are you doing here by the river, girl?" She was clearly alone- clearly a fool.
"Oh!" Startled, Serena nearly dropped the now softly glowing pendant into the river. She managed to snatch her hand back and tuck the thing back into her sleeve as she whirled around to see who'd addressed her.
"Um- just admiring the view...officer?" She wasn't Connlaothian, she didn't know how to address a mordecai- which the man clearly was. If his uniform hadn't told her the shrinking, shivering feeling of her magic would have.
Wonderful.
She offered a small smile and tried to take a step back but wound up just bumping into the rail of the bridge. "I'm...sightseeing. Yes, that's it." Her voice had a distinct lilt, an accent common to those native to the east.
His eyes narrowed. He hadn't missed the glowing object.
"What is that you put in your pocket?" He swore he could still see it glowing through the cloth. "Take it out and show it to me." There was no choice, in his voice it held command.
"Ah..."
Well shit.
Slowly, hoping desperately that the mordecai's presence would dull the magic, Serena pulled the pendant out. "It's just a necklace. A gift from my mother, actually."
At least that wasn't a lie.
As a mordecai, his presence could only snuff out magic as it were in it's natural state, but once transferred to an object...
His eyes narrowed on the subtle glow to the pendant. A natural gem did not shine in such a way.
"You would do well to hand the necklace over and come with me." With her foreign accent, attire and his over all feeling of unease around her, there was no doubt in his mind she was a mage- and a mage instantly made the woman guilty.
Oh great. "Um..." Serena swallowed nervously, clutching the pendant a little closer. "Do- do I have to?" she squeaked out. Her back thumped up against the rail and she started attempting to shimmy sideways to get some distance between them.
Zannrick's holy blade was out before she had a chance to see it, and he held it firmly in her path.
"That was a command," he told her coldly, the power in his voice not once waning.
Serena yelped and jumped back, slamming her hip into the rail and wincing. "A-alright, alright."
With shaking hands, she held the pendant out to him. The magic had ebbed a bit, the opal set on a silver chain more glinting too bright than truly glowing anymore, but the light was impossible to deny. She swallowed nervously.
Zannrick moved to snatch her wrist holding the pendant.
"You'd do well to continue obliging me," he growled, and gave her a yank as he pointed his blade towards her back. "You will keep walking, and do exactly as I say. And drop that necklace in my hand." He put let go of her and put his hand out for her to drop it.
"And don't forget," he told her, giving her a shove. "You are now a prisoner under my command."
Gods knew he'd slit her throat if she gave any indication she warranted it. And from what he was seeing and how his day was going...
It wouldn't take much.
She gave a cry of surprise and almost-pain at the rough treatment, staring at him with wide eyes over her shoulder before she stumbled forward. The pendant was more knocked from her hand than intentionally dropped.
"Wh-why?" she stammered out, hands raised in an attempt to show she meant no harm. "What have I done?"
"You are under arrest for suspicious activity too close to the palace," he told her angrily, "Now stop dragging your feet and move. We've got a long walk to the jail. And if you're lucky you'll only get a short time in the pillory."
"Suspicious- but I haven't done anything!" Serena protested, though she walked at his command. She had no doubt he'd use his blade if she gave him the slightest reason to.
Gods. She'd heard things were bad in Connlaoth, but she honestly hadn't expected this.
"Still your tongue. Protesting will do you no good here," the man snarled, pushing her along.
"Please, can't we just talk about this?" Serena begged as she stumbled forward again. "Look, I'm not some criminal or something. I'm just a healer, I was only passing through the city."
Zannrick stopped suddenly and got up clean in her face.
"I COMMANDED SILENCE!" and the flare within his ice blue eyes was one with a lethal promise. "Now keep your words and walk."
Her mismatched eyes widened and she jerked back from him instinctively as she tried to muffle a squeak of startled fear.
Something...dark twisted in her chest and it took more will power than she wanted it to for her to push it away. She nodded, fixing her eyes on the ground and walking in silence.
Good. He liked them silent. It made his job easier. Perhaps part of the reason he was so pissed all the time was because he dealt with so many damned delinquents. Either way, he had to keep this city safe- even if he loathed the fact his position was wasted on patrolling the streets. The novices took these routes.
Even still, he was proud, and would do everything to the T. Pushing her along, he commanded her then, "Good, let's walk. And fast."
He also loathed those who dragged their feet. Damn criminal mages. May they all rot in hell.
Serena glared at her feet, but picked up her pace slightly. She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something, anything- hell, commenting on the weather would have worked!
She hated the silence. It made her feel helpless, completely out of control (though to be fair, she sort of was).
"Mrrow?"
She stopped, eyes widening as they shot toward the noise. A lithe, pretty little gray cat tilted her head and blinked at them from her perch on a low stone wall, then said again, "Mrow? Mow-wow."
Serena waved a hand at her, trying to tell her silently to go back to the inn, but Jasmine refused to budge.
The jail, of course, had to be further away than he'd like; and a couple of streets had been blocked off due to some internal attacks- ones he was still sore over having happened. But that was weeks ago, and it seemed skilled labor was hard to come by, even in the city;-
But then a meow broke him from his thoughts as he paused, just briefly before trying to wave the cat past. He nearly stepped on the thing to move ahead, but some flea bitten feline wasn't going to stand in his way today. SOMEONE was going to have a bad day. Clearly, it would not be him.
Seeing his expression, Serena suddenly yelped, "Don't hurt her!"
She lurched forward a bit, trying to get between the mordecai and her familiar.
She wouldn't get far as his grip twisted her's back; leaving a brush burned bruise, no doubt. He gave her a shake.
"You're my prisoner. Stay in line!"
Serena squawked in surprised pain and ducked her head quickly.
"Rrrrow!"
A different cat seemed to just appear beside the first, hackles raised and orange tabby fur fluffed out to make him look larger. He hissed at Zannrick, then subsided with a low, continuous growl.
He tensed his hand on his sword and glared at the cats.
"What is the meaning of this?" Was she using magic? Impossible! Even still.. if the cats were of a magical nature.... he moved to unsheath his blade.
"No!"
Without thinking, Serena grabbed his sword arm with both hands, pressing herself in close to his chest in an effort to keep his attention on her and away from the cats. "Please, they're not hurting anyone, just leave them be!"
And just as quickly, Zannrick had her smashed up against a nearby building with enough force to break bones.S he no longer would have his arm, but she'd feel his blade at her throat.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" he roared. "I should cut your throat and let you bleed out here!"
Something cracked and Serena gasped, unable to give the cry of pain lodged in her throat.
"P-please," she managed to wheeze out. "Not- not hurting anyone...please."
Hissing, a black tom cat leaped to land on the witch's shoulder, eyes glinting as he bared his teeth and growled at the mordecai.
He never had a cat, not that he hadn't been fond of them in his youth, but even the local farmer's cats hadn't a taste for his friendship; and more than once he'd befallen bad luck around them. So it wasn't just the cat that bristled, but the mordecai as well, and he wasted no time in attempting to heavily back hand the cat off of her shoulder.
Sorren yowled and jumped to avoid the man's hand, taking his claws at him as he twisted toward the ground.
"Stop, please!" Serena grabbed for his arm, trying to meet his eyes. She was pretty sure people were staring at this point, but she didn't care.
Zannrick responded by simply pulling her along.
"You'd do well not to summon any more of your pets," he hissed. Thankfully, his armor saved him from any scratches from the fleeing cat. He shoved her along. "Keep walking."
"I'm not summoning them!" she protested, stumbling.
The fact that all tree cats trailed along behind, ears pinned and growling, seemed to negate that a bit.
Zannrick might as well have been a cat himself, how bristled he was and it looked as if he himself might be ready to hiss. But he had eyes on the cats, dragging his prisoner along, and keeping himself distracted enough not to notice the work on the sewer on King James lane. The sewer was unfortunately open, and more than man hole in size, and barely had much to protect it from someone not paying attention to stumble into it-
And that's exactly what he did. Who knew if he still had a hold on the fiendish bridge girl, but the sound was loud and his screams were muffled as down the open sewer the mordecai went-
And after sickening noise, there was just silence; silence, and a skewed, make shift fence around the open man hole-
No one was around, but surely someone had to have heard it. The river was nearby, as was another bridge-
Or did the sound of nearby water drown out the mordecai's plight? After all, not many windows dotted the sides of these buildings, for their fronts wereon the street in parallel; Market Corner; so not much activity happened - which created the most perfect scene for the girl to find herself in all alone....
And having to make a decision to run....
Or even care to check on the dumb fool who fell into underground rivers of shit.
Serena was stumbling along, barely paying attention to putting one foot in front of the other, when suddenly the mordecai's grip on her jerked sideways and she found herself stumbling toward the edge of a hole, crying out in shock.
Somehow, she managed to twist away as the man fell, one foot slipping over the edge of the hole before she backpedaled wildly and collapsed onto her butt, staring with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
...what the hell just happened?
"Well...fuck." She couldn't just leave him! Aching ribs protesting, she crawled to the edge of the hole and peered in, wrinkling her nose. "Hello? Mister Mordecai- Ser! Can you hear me?"
To either side of her, three cat heads popped into view, peering curiously down into the hole.
No response came, nor did any of the daylight shed light onto what fate had befallen him. But unfortunately for Zannrick, he wasn't dead. But who knew what, ego aside, would be broken after a fall like that.
"Fuck," Serena swore again.
How was she even supposed to get down there?
Grumbling to herself, she glanced around- the street was deserted- then reached into her sleeve to retrieve a small stone, clear and round and polished to a silky smoothness. A muttered word and the spell embedded in the crystal activated, creating a soft light she held out over the hole in an attempt to see.
And what would be revealed was a pair of metal rungs leading deep into the stinky sewer below.
Swearing under her breath, Serena tied her robes up around her waist and started to climb down, saying firmly to her cats, "You stay there."
The cats only obliged because well.. it was a sewer and though cats were agile, they were no ladder climbers, and there was no other feasibly safe means down. She'd find it was a long climb down at the bottom, the sewers becoming rifer the lowered she'd get. And there, when the armored mordecai would come into view, would reveal he fell right in the thick of things, his body half submerged in the cities own bile.
"Oh, fuck me," Serena muttered. Breathing shallowly, she approached the fallen man. "Um, hello? Mister mordecai? Are you alive?" She knelt, reaching to touch his shoulder.
He didn't stir, but the muck did, and a great bubble pushed out from beneath him before popping with swollen, swill air.
Great. Just great. Mumbling curses under her breath, the witch grabbed him under the arms and tried to hoist him to the side, up the small incline of the floor of the sewers.
The taste might have been impossible. While Zannrick himself was no hulking behemoth, he was all muscle, a purely trained soldier...
and had the heaviest damn armor around. Bogged down by sewer water,t he poor little witch probably wasn't getting far!
"Uff!"
Serena collapsed back onto her butt and glared at the soldier. "You are just determined to ruin my day, aren't you?' she grumbled.
The only reply came from the echoed meow from one of her cats from up above.
"Yes, yes, give me a minute," Serena called up. Thom chirped at her and she sighed, rubbing her temples.
The mordecai was unconscious, which meant she should be able to...
Carefully, she stretched her hand out and laid it on his chest, eyes closed as she sent magic scurrying down her fingers to hunt out injury. If she could just patch him up, her conscience would be assuaged enough that she could slip away and be done with it.
Her day was not full of fortune. He had been manhandled enough that by the time she went to wave her palms, the mordecai jerked away, gasping suddenly as he was overwhelmed by their atmosphere and soon was on his knees, vomiting, then vomiting again.
"Gods!" She skittered back, then hesitated. "H-Hey. Are you hurt?"
Instincts had him grabbing her by the throat, but another round of vomiting took him over, and his grip fell away.
Serena tried to claw his hand away, but then he was doubled over. "Hey. Ser." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you think you can stand?"
Despite being violently ill over the smell, her contact alone wasn't lost on him as he gave a shrill cry and shoved her aside.
"Don't you ever touch me!" he roared.
Serena reeled back, hands raised and eyes wide. "Okay," she tried to soothe him. "Okay, okay....I'm not touching, see? Now, do you think you can stand?"
Now he was shaking with disgust and nausea. He bared his teeth, and swallowed back more vomit that threatened to emerge.
"Just.. just stay where you are," he warned, breathing intentional, and slow.
"Alright." She knelt slightly, trying to get a better look at him. "I'm not moving, okay? But can you tell me where you're hurt?"
Maybe he didn't hear her. Or maybe he didn't want to, because even as she leaned over him to inspect him (and without making a move to touch him), he still growled at her like a feral dog and cleaved her with his eyes.
"I told you to stay back!"
But even his retort was not met without consequence, as he was still overwhelmed not only by the stench of the place, but the pain that wracked him. Perhaps the heavy armor saved him, or perhaps it made it all the worse. It was hard to say, but others might not have survived such a fall, and though he moved to sit up right, it was hard for even a man like Zannrick to hide any winces fromt he pain that radiated, not only from his twisted leg, but his right arm as well, which was his sword arm, his dominant hand, and was making things hard for him to balance himself as he managed to catch himself just against the wall of the slimy bricks in the sewer.
Shit.
Alright, enough of this.
Serena huffed and scowled at him. "I'm trying to help you, asshole!" she snapped out, unable to be polite anymore. "You can fight me all you like, but that's what I'm doing."
Briskly, she moved toward him and knelt at his side, a hand moving out to steady what she could tell was his good shoulder so she could get a look at him. "We need proper light," she muttered. "And you need to get out of that armor."
And that's when a hand punched into her throat as he grabbed her and pulled her close, so close she'd feel his snarling hot breath on her face.
"I gave an order! Did you forget!?" his voice went shrill. "You're my prisoner!" And his grip firmed.
Serena gasped, choked, then did something she'd grown to hate with every fiber of her being.
She used her father's powers.
Strength rushed through her, heady and instinctive. Hands snapping up, she wrenched his fingers from around her throat and met his snarl with her own. "I'm nobody's prisoner now, mordecai, and if I wanted to I could leave you here to rot."
With a sharp breath she forced herself to her feet, taking a few steps back to get some distance. She breathed, willing the demonic energy away. "Now. Can. You. Walk?"
There was something about it... something about.. it that had his nose burn and set to bleed, that had his veins feel as if they were itching, burning- but not quite on fire, more like singing with acid that tried to bite his flesh from the inside.
It left him stunned, dizzy even as she expressed such strength from nothing.
And soon hatred billowed up from deep within as he got up, tearing out his sword and using what strength he had to shove her to the wall, blade at her throat and his blue eyes, wild.
"What the hell are you?" he asked, hating that, how weak and pained his arm was, it was shaking as it held it there. But he still posed as a formidable force, even mordecaism aside- he had been a man born to his blade.
She couldn't say she was exactly surprised, but she hissed as the blade pressed to her throat.
Alright. Keep calm, keep calm. She could control this power, it didn't control her.
"I'm a healer," she repeated evenly. "I just want to help. Please calm down, you're going to hurt yourself."
He may be an ass, but that didn't mean he deserved to die.
Eyes still wide, he growled, "healers don't do that."
"Some of us do," she replied with a sigh. "Look- I won't pretend to understand your Connlaothian laws, but I'll respect them, okay? If you just let me help you out of here, I can get you settled somewhere and healing and be on my way."
He wasnt going to believe her. Be couldn't. He never would.
The moment was so tense he didnt notice the rat until it approached, squeaked and bumped his side.
His reaction was mindless, as he jerked and felt his blade cut her. And his reply was equally as fluid as he swore at the retreating rat he kicked, and resheathed his blade only so he could shove a hand against her bleeding wound, not certain how deep he cut, but hoping to stop the flow, fast.
Serena gasped, then choked, her hand flying to cover the cut, but he'd already accomplished that. She couldn't speak, shock and sudden panic robbing her voice as she stared at him with wide, mismatched eyes.
Above, three yowls cut through the sudden quiet, sensing their mistress in danger.
The witch struggled to breathe. Every little gasp hurt. He hadn't cut completely into her jugular, as far as she could tell, but any movement in her throat sent a hot flash of pain and caused the bleeding to pulse faster.
He kept his hand plastered to her and cursed. He had to think fast. Even if she was meant to die, it would be under justice, not some damn sewer slip.
He then looked right into her eyes and growled, "you said youre a healer. Prove it."
Serena had started shaking very slightly. "C-can't," she rasped out, wanting to gasp but knowing it would just make her bleed more. She gestured to the pouch at her hip. "Help. P-please. Green vial...bandages..."
She couldn't get much else out, trying to hold her breath and covering his hand with hers to increase the pressure on her float.
She couldn't have known it, but her inability, or desire not to, use her magic might just have saved her life. The mordecai wasted no more time, fetching what she asked and even going so far as to uncork the vial.
He hated the fact her blood was on his hands. Her blood wasn't worthy of it, and this whole scenario- a joke. It was perhaps for this reason alone he was hasty in trying to remedy it. He had been working too long. Maybe after they got out of here he'd just let her go. - If for only the reason that he wanted to forget it even happened.
He knew he was over worked- always had been. Only now, it seemed apparent, perhaps it was catching up to him.
"The vial is a healing paste?" he asked, glad it wasn't magic she wanted to conjure, but proper, truthful healing practices. He already had the bandages out and at the ready, and his gloved hand, still over her wound.
She couldn't nod, so she rasped out, "Yes."
She was completely at his mercy and she knew it- perhaps she would have been able to augment her healing abilities with her father's power, but she didn't want to risk losing control.
And honestly she'd meant what she said. She didn't agree with the laws the man upheld, but she knew her best chance out getting out of this situation alive was to honor them.
No finesse, he just pressed the paste over her, perhaps using too much, or too little. and bandages her up quick, but a hand still pressed to the wound, only realizing then just how much she had bled- and how much it had stained his gloves.
Serena choked and gasped, trying to replace his hand with her own once the bandage was in place.
"A-alright," she coughed. "You're turn...where...are you hurt?" Speaking was painful and she winced, using a bit more pressure on her throat.
Even as she tried to turn this back on him, he bristled and shook his head.
"I can tend to my own wounds."
And awkwardly, he moved to sit. But every movement he made with his legs...
It was the most painful thing he ever wanted to admit. And after a few frustrated motions, he got himself to sit, and was working angrily at unclasping all the straps to his leg armor.. and when it began too much to bear, he kicked off his boots and began to move at clawing off his right arm armor as well. How the hell did he manage to fall to hurt his opposing limbs?
Serena still struggled to breathe, and her voice was a rasping whisper. "Can you...walk?" Climbing out of her was going to be a chore.
He hated to admit it, but he knew the result would be difficult, if at all.
"It's broken," was all he said, pausing to look down at his leg and catching his breath, the sweat on his body thick, and showing off the wet clothing beneath his armor that clung to him like a second skin.
She tried for a nod, then immediately regretted it as pain flashed hot through her throat. She was starting to feel woozy- she'd lost a good deal of blood.
"O-okay. Lean on me, we can...find another way out." One hand still pressed to the bandages, she offered him her hand. "If you...let me set it first...this'll be easier," she rasped out the offer.
Pissed. He was always pissed.
She looked so weak.. pathetic.
He grabbed her hand suddenly, and forced her against the wall..t hen down.
"We're not going anywhere," he growled, moving to nurse his arm again. He looked her over with a sneer. "You look like shit."
He craned his neck, peering up at the man hole.
"I'llh ave to find my own way out."
Serena flinched back from him, instinctively fearful. Then she scowled. "What makes you think...you'll have better luck on your own?"
He glared over her form.
"You're injured too," he spat, and moved to examine his own arm, pinching it up and down, and feeling along it until he could tell just where it had become dislocated. he snorted, adjusting his sleeve before suddenly, he wrenched his arm, and a sickening crack had him doubled over, and after a moment of swallowing his scream, he shook out a gasp and bared his teeth, and the blood running down from his mouth.
The witch realized what he was doing a moment before it happened and clenched her eyes shut, wincing. she couldn't really react much, and she didn't want to risk trying to touch him again, judging by how that had gone last time.
Despite what he did, the pain from the crunch rung through him, and made him cringe and remain still for a good while. Then he shivered and wiped the blood aside, growling as he sat there, realizing.. he only did so much to his arm and... He just hoped that, despite it still hurting like hell, he didn't make it worse- since it honestly hurt to move and move at all.
He supposed he wasn't fixing his leg anytime soon.
Serena didn't know what else she could do other than offer yet again, "Let me at least...help you set it."
He shot her a glare and was about to bite her head off,but diverted it to an angered, "What do you know about setting bones?"
"Quite a lot, actually." Her voice was rough and rasping, and she couldn't speak above a whisper without sharp pain. She pointed to her chest. "Healer, remember?"
He growled and demanded, "Explain to me your background. Anyone can simply call themselves a healer."
One hand pressed to the bandage on her throat, Serena raised the other peaceably. "I'm from...La'marri," she said softly. "The Niahi. I live there, in the woods. I'm an herbalist, a midwife, and a healer."
His eyes narrowed.
"But that still does not explain how or what you know. Just where you hail from," he growled.
She shrugged helplessly and fell back on the story that had been true for many years. She tapped her temple with her free hand. "Amnesia," she whispered. "Don't...remember much."
"Amnesia?" he looked at her with a growl. "Then what good of a healer would you be?"
Another shrug. "I know...some things. Remember herblore. I've been living in La'marri for...five years. I'm a healer there."
"And what makes you think I'd trust you with my life?"
Hand still pressed to her throat, she pointed out with an arched eyebrow, "No...choice?"
A beat, then, "Not in the habit...or making bad decisions...Ser."
She was right. It did seem he had little choice. But he didn't want to believe it. He normally worked alone. And he most certainly did not want to work with a mage and foreign blooded, of all things. But the smells here were nauseating, and he had to wonder how much of his pride he should keep in tact to endure this.
"You know if I trust you and you help me, it does not remove you from being tried against the law."
She shook her head slightly. "I've broken no law, not one...I was aware of. So be it."
She just had to go there. His hand gripped her arm as he forced her to look at him.
"You broke the law. You used magic in a land where it is forbidden." His eyes narrowed into slits. "Do not forget where you are and to whom you speak."
She met his eyes, green and gold flashing defiance. Her voice was still barely a whisper, but it was firm when she murmured, "I did not know...the extent of the law. I'd only heard of it. I've never...been to Connlaoth before. You cannot...fault ignorance."
"If you don't know the laws of the land, you don't step into that land. Ignorance protects no one."
Serena shrugged. "I will let your courts decide...not you."
His eyes went steely.
"I think you'd be surprised by the power I wield."
She stared him down. "Then that is abuse...of power, and you have...no right to hold it in the first place."
Without waiting for a response, she nodded upward. "If you help me...stop the bleeding properly...I can help get you out of here."
The smell was so overwhelming, as was his disgust with her, he had to pause a moment before-
Nope, there he went, he was vomitting again, or rather, dry heaving, as he had little left to wretch.
Serena could do little more than press her hand to her throat and watch. She hesitantly reached a hand out to pat his back, fully expecting him to slap it away.
Zannrick shoved her hand aside,a nd used the moment to try to calm himself. But taking gulps of this rife air did little to help. Reaching into his armor, he fished out some bandages. He grabbed her suddenly and yanked her to him and then forced her to show him her neck.
"Just hold still," he growled, and moved to wrap the bindings. And although the sewer smell was so overwhelming, the bandaging smelled heavily of him and the natural musk his body exuded, a scent only amplified by the hot conditions beneath his armor.
Serena went very stiff in his arms, but she tilted her head back to make the process easier. She winced at the tugging and pressing on the cut, and tried to breathe through her mouth-
Mistake. The rancid air made her want to cough and she had to hold her breath, trembling slightly with the effort it took to hold the impulse back.
Afterbthe bandage was fastened he took her hand and pressed it over her wound, roughly.
"Just hold it there to help clot the wound."
The witch nodded, prsssing against the wound. "How's your leg?"
He tested it out with a hiss.
"It's been better." He eyed the woman over, then studied the sewers around them. The rungs were close enough, but he still wasn't sure if he'd be able to climb.
Serena considered their options. "If you climb ahead of me," she said slowly, "I can...spot you, from below. Make sure you don't fall."
"That's assuming I can even try to climb," he growled, frustratedly.
She looked him over. Leg and arm...
"If I tie a sling for you, do you think you can put most of your weight on your good leg?" she murmured.
He glared at her.
"NOT when climbing up."
She threw her hands up. If she could have shouted, she would have. "Then what do you want me to do?"
"Nothing!" he bit. "What CAN you do? See?" he growled, nostrils flaring. "Nothing." He knew she was useless, guilty and of course, a mage! He wouldn't want her help anyway and part of him would rather die down here than accept this help. It was embarrassing enough as it was.
But then a voice came up from the manhole above.
"Hello? Is somebody down there?"
Zannrick tensed and turned to try to peer up it.
"Yes! I've sustained an injury! Call for the city guard for help at once!"
"What? It's hard to hear you! Hold on." and the sunlight flickered to a close as the man's body began it's descent. It was a commoner no doubt, easily deduced by it's lack of fancy clothing. And by the time they were at the bottom he looked the pair over with a frown.
"What is going on here?"
But before he even allowed for an explanation, his eyes went wide as he saw just who was down there.
"L.. Lord Austengarde?"
Zannrick was seething.
"Yes, and I've come to sustain injuries. This woman was being taken to the jail for magical use when it all occurred and-"
The man was no fool, or perhaps he was, but silencing Zannrick in the way he had was not what the mordecai expected, because while he was only half wearing his armor, after having attempted to attend to his broken limbs, it left parts of him open and vulnerable. And the man, who was a desperate plebian, had so much hatred built up towards this exact mordecai that he couldn't miss up this opportunity. So what if the other had a sword? He had a knife, and the element of surprise-
And there it was, Zannrick's eyes going wide as he felt the blade pierce his belly as the man rammed it into him- overa nd over until finally the mordecai had enough sense to react.
He grabbed onto the man's shirt collar with a great fist and smashed their faces together, both men seeing stars, and with his good leg he hefted a well planted kick to his knife baring hand as the attacker doubled over in pain. But Zannrick held onto him tightly, his other, feebler arm trembling over the spilling, hot blood from his side.
"What have you done?" Zannrick hissed. "You have condemned yourself and all of your family to-"
But Zannricker's anger was silenced by a bloodied spit to his face.
"You're going to die, hound." And it was then Zannrick realized the man was fetching for another blade in his garb and in doing so, Zannrick did all he could to prevent it, using his pained shoulder to ram into the man as the two went tumbling down off the stone walk ways of the sewers and rolling until both pair were half in the filthy sewer waters and struggling now for their lives.
For too long a moment, Serena could do little more than stare.
Then she reacted, moving almost entirely on instinct as she threw herself forward and rammed her shoulder into the stranger's side, knocking him off balance and off of Zannrick as she practically fell onto them both.
"Stop!" Her voice was still weak, but she shouted as best she could. "Stop it, both of you!"
But her interruption only gained her a sudden sharp blade to her side, as her own blood now mingled in the water. But it appeared all three of them were in for a blood bath as the thick sewer water they now writhing in churned with city bile and blood.
Serena reeled back, panting and yelping in pain.
Instinct took over. Her eyes flashed and she growled, and her hand snapped out to grab the strange man by the back of his neck, flinging him back into the wall behind her as she stood there, breathing raggedly.
And while Serena flung the man aside, Zannrick acted quick, pulling out his own blade and ramming the man threw. The man gurgled, tensing and twitching before going limp as the life glazed away from his eyes. He shoved the man off his blade and let him fall into the sewers before he himself doubled over, coughing out blood and clutching at his gut.
Blood pounded in her ears and Serena whirled, growling, furious at being cheated of her kill.
Then she froze as she realized what was happening. The cut on her neck had almost entirely healed, her senses were sharper, she felt strong.
And she hated it. She forced the feeling back, gasping as pain rushed back into her body and she doubled over.
"Are- are you...alright? Let me see..." She took a staggering step toward the mordecai.
Zannrick's hands were trembling as he moved his hand away from his wound and scowled at the sight of it.
"My armor, we need to remove my armor. Now."
Serena nodded quickly and reached for the straps at his shoulder, trying to work quickly.
He hated that he was groaning, and his body trembling and slick with sweat, which became more and more evident as pieces of his armor began to fall away as she helped him unbuckle. Once his breast plate was dropped aside, the intensity of the wound was revealed, as his entire garment beneath was soaked red.
Serena swore quietly and tried to slip her arm around him to offer support. "If you can move to the wall, you can sit and I can take a look at this."
What else could he do? He was bleeding out and breathing ragged, so he obeyed, cringing all the while.
Serena got him to lean against the wall and knelt beside him, pushing his shirt up so she could see the wound.
She winced, then glanced up at him. "Can you...pull your aura in?"
Zannrick cursed at her.
"Mordecaism doesn't work that way." His breathing was ragged. "I need.. Soemthing... To clot the wound." His hands could only do it for so long and they were already sticky and,soaked in blood. "Something to.. To keep it closed. Thread, leathers, anything." so long as he didn't die down here of all places,
Well, magic was certainly out of the question then.
Serena took a breath, pressing her hands over his on the wound. "Okay, just...try to breathe shallow, alright?" She hunted through the pouch on her belt, withdrawing a needle and thread.
"I need to clean it out first, so it doesn't get infected," she told him as she removed a small jar of rather pungent salve as well.
Any smell the salve may have was lost in the sewer. But he made a face at her, a savage, disgusted look.
"You think that will work down here?"
He could have sworn even the air might kill him with it's odor. But the wound he suffered was bad enough the sewer smells were long forgotten.
"Would you rather I leave it to fester?" She smeared the salve over the wound, then threaded the needle and only gave him a curt warning of, "This will hurt," before she slid the needle into his skin.
"I have a gaping wound," he growled. "It already hurts."
She couldn't really say anything to that, so she focused on stitching the wound closed as quickly as she could.
Though each time the needle pierced and the thread pulled through his skin, it hurt, but it's pain was minute in comparison to the wound in which she treated. He kept his fingers pressed against it, helping her as it was needed, but he was feeling fainter by the moment, his body slicking quickly over with sweat.
Once she was satisfied with the stitching, Serena sat back and glanced at his face. "Do you think you can sand now?"
Even with the stitching complete, Zannrick had lost of lot of blood. He was still weak, and hated to admit it, so when he tried to stand and faltered, he found himslef catching his balance on the young woman's shoulders as he cursed and fell onto his knees.
"Whoa, whoa." Serena caught him under the arms, but she was weak enough herself that his weight dragged her down with him. She managed to keep from collapsing completely, lowering them both carefully.
"Ser?" She glanced at the ladder and bit her lip. "Sorren? Jaz? You guys still up there?" Her voice was weak and rasping, but evidently carried far enough that the cats heard her, meowing back. "See if you can find another way down."
He was feeling dizzy and light headed and before he could help it, he slumped against her, unmoving.
"Oh, fu- Ser? Ser!" Serena winced as her slowly clotting wound protested her shouting and she tried to shift the mordecai's weight onto her shoulder, his head lolling. "Great. Just...perfect. Ser, wake up." She tapped his cheek lightly, slowly growing frantic.
But he didn't come around, and her attempts to rouse him were useless.
With no better ideas, Serena had to just wait and pray that her cats would manage to find a way down to them.
"Mrrow?"
"Sorren!" She sighed and smiled at the cat. "Where did you come from?"
He tilted his head and flicked his tail enigmatically.
Very helpful.