A man on the ground is a dead man.
Elezen as a rule were not used to fighting from such a vantage point. Lalafell were.
It was that simple.
She followed Xydane down the hall, then turned right. What awaited her weren't prison cells but closets, storage rooms, maintenance rooms, offices... she found a corpse, stripped clean of clothes, in one room, and several more in another. The last chamber... the last chamber was where... the place lay in ruins: papers, chairs, and tables burning, walls charring, roof crumbling, room smoking. Â
Kokojo heard the knight bellow, and, though she couldn't make out any words, she got the gist. She hollered back, "Clear! We're clear! He's not here!"
Back down the hallway the little corporal darted; she came to the junction and went the other way this time, her breathing labored now as she turned one corner after another after another until finally she found....
Too many. Too late. They pressed in around the Hyur, lances drawn back for the thrust.
She dropped her shield.
"...very well. So much for the lieutenant. What can you tell me of your subordinates?"
He sighed as he dipped the brush again into the soot black dye and drew it over the barbute helmet again. The voice in his head never ceased; it was always asking questions, always pressing for weakness, for advantage.
"Only ever had the one since Halatali. Corporal Haruko Kokojo. Female. Dunesfolk. Good person. Good soldier."
"Specifics please, Master Osric. You should know that by now."
Another layer. One stripe. Two stripes. Three stripes. Jin'li had insisted that he look the part, so he had gone to great lengths and pains to smuggle his father's old armor out of the city.
"Helped me with the recruits, mostly. Occasionally accompanied me on investigations and matters of a more... personal nature."
"Skills?"
"Paladin-in-training, but her bladework is shoddy, from what I've been told. That said, could've been Sultansworn thrice over, if she'd chosen the Oath."
"Hmm. Why didn't she?"
"Because I asked her not to. I... needed her. Needed someone. Load's too much for one person to carry, at times."Â
"...you said 'thrice over'. If her martial prowess is so... lacking... then how?"
He put the brush aside, turned the finished helmet to face him, and sat down on the dusty dirt floor of the cavern that was Lost Hope.
"Big things come in small packages. She may never be one of the greats when it comes to the sword..."
He smiled.
"...but she excels at aetheric manipulation, and has a talent and potential for conjury the likes of which hasn't been seen by the sultanate in over three generations."
The lances speared through the air towards Xydane, only to clash against a sudden hexagonal lattice of blue-white. The steel points rebounded, and the four Elezen staggered as they rocked back on their heels. One of them glanced back and gave a cry; the others turned, as well. She'd been spotted.
Kokojo's sword-arm hung at her side, the blade trailing on the ground. Her left hand - raised, palm out - rose further, drew and threw her helmet off. Her hair flowed freely... then rose, billowed, as if a sudden wind had picked up and held.
No mage, she, but long before she'd found succor at Stillglade Fane, she had found the Ossuary. She'd be stripping the gears again, doing as she was now, falling from grace, falling from White to Black as she released her grasp on the elemental and turned her focus to her own aether. She reached inward, pulled out the energies she needed, and a flame burst into being in the palm of her hand. She held it up, presented it to the four.
"Burn."
So they did. Fire rolled over the lattice in broiling waves as the Elezen screamed, wailed. It didn't last long - thaumaturgy wasn't her specialty - but it lasted long enough. She let the protective lattice wall drop as the heat faded, and she gave her knight a gift, presented him with four unguarded backs.
That would have to be enough, because her eyes rolled back in her head.
Haruko Kokojo collapsed.
Elezen as a rule were not used to fighting from such a vantage point. Lalafell were.
It was that simple.
She followed Xydane down the hall, then turned right. What awaited her weren't prison cells but closets, storage rooms, maintenance rooms, offices... she found a corpse, stripped clean of clothes, in one room, and several more in another. The last chamber... the last chamber was where... the place lay in ruins: papers, chairs, and tables burning, walls charring, roof crumbling, room smoking. Â
Kokojo heard the knight bellow, and, though she couldn't make out any words, she got the gist. She hollered back, "Clear! We're clear! He's not here!"
Back down the hallway the little corporal darted; she came to the junction and went the other way this time, her breathing labored now as she turned one corner after another after another until finally she found....
Too many. Too late. They pressed in around the Hyur, lances drawn back for the thrust.
She dropped her shield.
"...very well. So much for the lieutenant. What can you tell me of your subordinates?"
He sighed as he dipped the brush again into the soot black dye and drew it over the barbute helmet again. The voice in his head never ceased; it was always asking questions, always pressing for weakness, for advantage.
"Only ever had the one since Halatali. Corporal Haruko Kokojo. Female. Dunesfolk. Good person. Good soldier."
"Specifics please, Master Osric. You should know that by now."
Another layer. One stripe. Two stripes. Three stripes. Jin'li had insisted that he look the part, so he had gone to great lengths and pains to smuggle his father's old armor out of the city.
"Helped me with the recruits, mostly. Occasionally accompanied me on investigations and matters of a more... personal nature."
"Skills?"
"Paladin-in-training, but her bladework is shoddy, from what I've been told. That said, could've been Sultansworn thrice over, if she'd chosen the Oath."
"Hmm. Why didn't she?"
"Because I asked her not to. I... needed her. Needed someone. Load's too much for one person to carry, at times."Â
"...you said 'thrice over'. If her martial prowess is so... lacking... then how?"
He put the brush aside, turned the finished helmet to face him, and sat down on the dusty dirt floor of the cavern that was Lost Hope.
"Big things come in small packages. She may never be one of the greats when it comes to the sword..."
He smiled.
"...but she excels at aetheric manipulation, and has a talent and potential for conjury the likes of which hasn't been seen by the sultanate in over three generations."
The lances speared through the air towards Xydane, only to clash against a sudden hexagonal lattice of blue-white. The steel points rebounded, and the four Elezen staggered as they rocked back on their heels. One of them glanced back and gave a cry; the others turned, as well. She'd been spotted.
Kokojo's sword-arm hung at her side, the blade trailing on the ground. Her left hand - raised, palm out - rose further, drew and threw her helmet off. Her hair flowed freely... then rose, billowed, as if a sudden wind had picked up and held.
No mage, she, but long before she'd found succor at Stillglade Fane, she had found the Ossuary. She'd be stripping the gears again, doing as she was now, falling from grace, falling from White to Black as she released her grasp on the elemental and turned her focus to her own aether. She reached inward, pulled out the energies she needed, and a flame burst into being in the palm of her hand. She held it up, presented it to the four.
"Burn."
So they did. Fire rolled over the lattice in broiling waves as the Elezen screamed, wailed. It didn't last long - thaumaturgy wasn't her specialty - but it lasted long enough. She let the protective lattice wall drop as the heat faded, and she gave her knight a gift, presented him with four unguarded backs.
That would have to be enough, because her eyes rolled back in her head.
Haruko Kokojo collapsed.
![[Image: 1qVSsTp.png]](http://i.imgur.com/1qVSsTp.png)
