"Fire in the hole!"
It bit. Found them, Cap'. This was all Kahn'a could think of before the shockwave hit him. For a moment that lasted not longer than a blink, the creepy hideout was lit in bright white light, dancing shadows of splinters hurled into the room, distorted as if the sudden flash of light had blinded them too. But in an instant, the mystical scene was gone. It became dust and smoke.
The Miqo'te tumbled forwards, making the best of the sudden force throwing him further in. He scarcely had time to land that the sound of men, stomping the paved floor like a herd of aldgoats, thundered against the his ears.
Tripwires, he thought. This was one of Askier's old safehouse. And the madman had rigged the entire place, forbidding any clumsy bloke to get in and run off with the place's secrets. They would most likely meet a firey end. Just there.
And so would Kahn'a if he kept on standing so still. With very little time to assess the situation. He needed to get off safe and sound. That was the priority. But with his sight and sense of smell impaired by all the whirling dust and smoke, all that he could afford was a bold move. The lieutenant caught himself smirking.
"You'd be proud," he said simply, speaking to someone clearly not there.
And roughly at the same time the giant soldiers' boots tensed the thin cable he had gone over, just at the doorstep, Kahn'a threw himself on the floor, somehow managing to squeeze through their large frames. Mechanical contraptions be blessed, their timing were always impeccable for those that knew their purpose. A larger explosion lit the room a second time, and Kahn'a felt his body being pushed back out, to the street.
Shadows, shadows! He needed cover, for in plain sight, he would be a goner. Picking himself back up, Kahn'a peered through the mess of flying particles. Smoke cloaked him, but he knew that as soon as he would see, so would they. He could not wait, he had to move first.
Left... Or right? The Miqo'te barked out of rage, this was not the time to choke with doubts. Left it would be! Breaking into a mad dash, hoping to make for the cover of the Ul'dahn galleries, Kahn'a rushed towards Onyx Lane and the likes. Yet he was completely unaware of the presence on the rooftops. His mind functioned like that of a prey, the urgency of getting out of dodge hammering his thoughts.
There was no sense of obedience, no allegiance or orders. No, none of that. Instead there were hunter and prey. And it was the first time the Miqo'te played that game as the runner.
It bit. Found them, Cap'. This was all Kahn'a could think of before the shockwave hit him. For a moment that lasted not longer than a blink, the creepy hideout was lit in bright white light, dancing shadows of splinters hurled into the room, distorted as if the sudden flash of light had blinded them too. But in an instant, the mystical scene was gone. It became dust and smoke.
The Miqo'te tumbled forwards, making the best of the sudden force throwing him further in. He scarcely had time to land that the sound of men, stomping the paved floor like a herd of aldgoats, thundered against the his ears.
Tripwires, he thought. This was one of Askier's old safehouse. And the madman had rigged the entire place, forbidding any clumsy bloke to get in and run off with the place's secrets. They would most likely meet a firey end. Just there.
And so would Kahn'a if he kept on standing so still. With very little time to assess the situation. He needed to get off safe and sound. That was the priority. But with his sight and sense of smell impaired by all the whirling dust and smoke, all that he could afford was a bold move. The lieutenant caught himself smirking.
"You'd be proud," he said simply, speaking to someone clearly not there.
And roughly at the same time the giant soldiers' boots tensed the thin cable he had gone over, just at the doorstep, Kahn'a threw himself on the floor, somehow managing to squeeze through their large frames. Mechanical contraptions be blessed, their timing were always impeccable for those that knew their purpose. A larger explosion lit the room a second time, and Kahn'a felt his body being pushed back out, to the street.
Shadows, shadows! He needed cover, for in plain sight, he would be a goner. Picking himself back up, Kahn'a peered through the mess of flying particles. Smoke cloaked him, but he knew that as soon as he would see, so would they. He could not wait, he had to move first.
Left... Or right? The Miqo'te barked out of rage, this was not the time to choke with doubts. Left it would be! Breaking into a mad dash, hoping to make for the cover of the Ul'dahn galleries, Kahn'a rushed towards Onyx Lane and the likes. Yet he was completely unaware of the presence on the rooftops. His mind functioned like that of a prey, the urgency of getting out of dodge hammering his thoughts.
There was no sense of obedience, no allegiance or orders. No, none of that. Instead there were hunter and prey. And it was the first time the Miqo'te played that game as the runner.
