"Drenar, Joey, snap out of it!"
Drenar blinks, and Angela shakes his shoulder with one claw. And, Joey is grabbing onto his coat and is still awkwardly close. "What just happened?"
He turns to Joey, who's still looking wild-eyed at him, and then they both turn to face Angela, who looks like the most anxious dragon he's ever seen. "I have no idea, and I think it's better if I don't for a while."
"Drenar, you're freaking me out a bit more than usual," Angela says with a raised voice. Her feather crest standing on end further emphasizes that.
"Angela? I think saw Lyssa. Or a goddess. The Joey--I mean, jury--is still out on that one." Joey nods weakly.
"I have no idea what we saw, Angela. Because I think I tapped out on crazy several hours ago," Joey says in the quietest tone he's heard from her to date. She looks down and finally lets go when she sees her whitened knuckles still gripping him. The sword is still in his hand, pointed end down, and he quickly sheathes it and places it on his back.
"So, not gonna talk about that moment? I thought she was gonna kiss you to snap you out of that trance," Angela says with ruffled feathers. She’s irritated for sure.
"Angie, I know I just met you, but trust me, I'm not that kind of girl," Joey snaps.
"That remains to be seen, dear," she retorts–fortunately for Drenar, in a more playful manner than he expected. "Given the weird that been happening nonstop, I'm not even gonna question this one."
"Okay, guys, I'm not sure what happened exactly, but I'm fine," Drenar interrupts. "Let me sum it up, weird stuff is going on, and this sword just gave me the heads up we’re in uncharted waters," he says with as much biting sarcasm as he's got left. "How long have I been like that?" Angela let out a puff of air.
"Thirty seconds."
"I felt like I was there for several minutes. How–never mind. We've got work to do." He gives himself space and makes sure to test the balance once he draws the blade again, and goes through a few practice motions. This weapon…it is beyond mortal design. The balance is perfect. The weight is nearly negligible. The weapon does not deflect, and this metal is unlike anything he has ever seen.
And there's a tingle in his hand. Power untapped, and ready to be unleashed. If this sword is just like his dagger, it may have many powers waiting to be discovered. Okay Drenar, don't let it get to your head! Focus on the important stuff!
WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! Alex’s shrill cry in his head leaves him wincing, and Joey does too. I saw a big blank white, then nothing! Are we dead? I mean I think I'm technically dead, but then I'd be double dead?
“Alex, we're gonna have to talk later on this one,” Drenar responds. This one is going to hurt when he has to tell him he saw his departed wife in the aether, or a possible goddess? This is getting too weird, even for him now.
"Guys, dunno what happened, but let's get our game on! I hear them cutting through the door!" Joey points to the distant light coming from down the hall. "The archives has another door through a maintenance area, it loops back out to the other end right next to my lab, and there's one more barrier door we can throw down." She glances back at Drenar. "You said you have some martial practice. How good are you?"
"He's good enough for what we need," Angela interjects. "Drenar, you might not get a chance here to give these guys an off-ramp. You know that, right?" He glances over his shoulder after slinging the weapon away, and tests the reach to the hilt. It should be a lightning fast motion for him.
"I'll do what I have to." It's the closest he'll say that he's willing to pull out all the stops this time, or people could die. “Joey, let’s slow them down a bit. Can those alchemical canisters be triggered with a time delay or a tripwire?”
“Oh, did my closeness inspire you?” she asks deviously. He dares a glance at Angela, who is rolling her eyes.
“Focus? The murder army isn’t going to be disarmed by dangerous flirting,” he rebuffs lightly. “I need a resin grenade.”
“Locking foam, coming up!” She taps the strange device and two metal and plastic containers pop out, and she hands them to him. He grabs a bundle of cord he’d kept from earlier and cuts a length with his dagger. “Angie, go get their attention. I need a minute.”
“Oh that shouldn’t be hard,” she says with a smile, and darts with agility through the rows, and sends some errant papers fluttering through the air. Joey is grabbing more canisters, and he cuts a few other cords and hands them to her. Then Angela starts…singing?!
“The silver dragon roared,
a mighty melody!
Those Talons creeps are toast,
a worldly victory!”
“I prefer her songs, the murder happy dragoness was a touch too dour,” Drenar mutters. Joey stares at him even while preparing the traps. “Yeah, long talk later.”
“You guys are so weird.”
“Says the psionic still latched into my brain matter,” he retorts, and she growls at him.
“Careful there, kiddo, I know things about dragons that might intrigue–” she claps her hand across her mouth and goes rosy-faced. “The hell is wrong with me lately?!” she hastily recovers ties off another grenade, and tests the tension. It would only take a small tug.
“It's called tense situations, and weird stuff is happening all around me lately. Is that set?”
“Done. Let's put these bastards in their place." each trap is another opportunity to thin the numbers and put them on the bench.
"Space them at the blind corners, let's hurry.” He's already taken to action and smashes the light source, and puts the area into darkness, with the only light coming from the moonlight filtering through the lake in an eerie, shimmering landscape.
“The glass will let us know they’re coming.” He grabs some of the debris and throws it behind them. She ties off a few cords and then nods satisfactorily. “Angie, watch your step when you come back through,” he says over the radio. He hears the sizzle of the torches, then, a thunderous sound.
Someone has blasted the door wide open, and the wrenching metal confirms it.
“Secure the room, kill anyone who–silver, get the heavy weapons!”
Angela gives them an unkind introduction of a freezing blast that stops them in their path, then she bowls into them with ferocity, sending many spinning and leaving some with gruesome claw wounds. She bowls a few more over with her tail, then ducks when the return fire comes with her arcane barrier flaring from the shots. Drenar has finished looping the second trip line, and Angela is already bounding back to the back wall, panting lightly.
“Yep, they got dragons coming up. Nevarran red. Tactical counters, Joey?”
"Nevarran have thinner scales than most dragons due to the desert environment they prefer, and are vulnerable to armor-piercing weapons or other dragons’ claws. Plasma’s useless against them though, and their scales are highly resistant to most acids and caustic agents.” She finishes tying off the lines, and the commotion is coming closer.
“They’re in the back, open fire!”
“Hold fire, we need the journals intact, and don’t rupture the containment vessels on these artifacts, some are still active!” one barks back. Drenar leads the way, pulls out the sword on his back one more time, and waits by the entryway while Angela slips through–Angela barely scrapes through with her size. Joey hands him the last alchemical canister "Concussive blast. Non-lethal," Joey whispers. "I noticed you seem to…have a preference."
"That means a lot more to me than you know. I'll deal with the lead guys. Make sure to barricade as soon as I'm through." She dashes to the door, and he waits five seconds and hears the crunch of broken glass. He tosses the canister preemptively and feels that tether of energy, awaiting his command to activate.
“Hostiles, back side of the room! Close to flank–”
The lead soldier doesn't get a chance, because the canister detonates and a concussive blast knocks the man forward. Drenar lunges forward and slices through his body armor like its tissue paper, though the metal plates do resist the attack. The man shouts in pain, and he slams him down on the floor hard before grabbing his autobow and smashing the buttstock into his helmet as hard as he can. He groans and goes down for the count.
At about this same time, the tripwires go off, and there are several shouts of surprise and a few concussive blasts. Glass, papers, and books go flying, and one man is comically spun through the air, where he impacts a metal post and it makes a loud, ringing noise. Others are now stuck in alchemical locking foam, and out of the fight. The Nevarran red rounds the corner and is his biggest threat. It is a dusty red color–different than the Valencian, with lighter scales, and attempts to charge at him. Angela intercepts and flings him off. The foe reacts quickly and tries to breathe flame, but Angela's not having that and sucker punches him before he can, slashing at him with deadly claws that he deflects, but hers still draw blood with small wounds.
Drenar sees the opportunity to land a strike and grabs the blade with his gloved hands. He tries a half-sword technique to plunge the sword deep into the foe's flank. Dragon scales part and the wound goes deep. He dodges the raking claws with a roll and slices again, doing more damage while Angela pins the foe, keeping him from lunging. He hamstrings the mighty foe with a mighty swipe, shocked that even dragon scales are only offering moderate resistance to his blows.
Evade! Alex’s warning almost comes too late and he feels his body blink out of existence –that bright white space, and he pops into reality a meter away from the deadly blow of a dragon trying to slash him in half. Angela kinetic blasts the foe in the head, leaving him reeling. Her foe is seriously wounded not just from sword strikes, but her claws which she’s sheathed in a silvery film of kinetic energy–he’s got to take notes on how she’s doing that!
His danger sense kicks in before three Talons soldiers stacked up in a close formation swerve around the corner, autobows firing. He manages to avoid the brunt of it with a quick grab of the first, turning him to his foes’ unfriendly fire. One hit does flare his barrier, and he kinetic flings the now perforated foe at his allies. A fourth comes around the corner with–how the hell big is that axe?! He dodges past the blow that should have taken his head off and looks for an opening, swinging delicately and opening a cut on the fabric armor. It slows the soldier down, but it's far from lethal. This sword just cuts through things it shouldn't, and it's vibrating with power!
“Watch out!”
Somehow, Joey’s warning precludes his own danger sense, and he kicks off to the side just as a second foe gets off the floor and tries to stab him with a bayonet. The blow is sloppy, and his countering attack slices through the soldier's arm muscle and leaves the flesh parted. He screams and clutches at the wound, but there's no time for that. Axe man is back in the fight and swings mightily. He has reach, and Drenar deftly hops backwards from the strike.
Help comes in the form of a canister of fire igniting the fabric outer shell of his armor, and he staggers to pat out the flames. Joey leaps in with the distraction and smashes his helmet with her staff, the metal ringing. He wildly swings and misses, but it buys Drenar the time to cut the halt of the weapon in half, and the man staggers, disarmed. A single kinetic blast knocks him backwards, and Drenar pulls down on his target of opportunity. Hard.
The soldier looks up to see the heavy shelving coming down, and screams in panic. It crashes down, and books, scrolls, and lumps of some old metal artifact pelt down on him, along with the frame of the shelving pinning him to the floor. One blow with the flat of his blade sends the man spinning into unconsciousness.
All the foes are down, badly wounded but alive. Angela's dragon foe is thoroughly trashed, and Joey flings one last canister at him– a white powdery substance she leaps back from, and the dragon screams.
“Bitch, it burns!” He wails, but since he's otherwise incapacitated, he can do nothing but cradle his wounds. Angela lands one more knockout blow with her fist and winces at the claw wounds on her arm and face. More foes are shouting nearby, and Drenar is panting, out of breath.
“What'd you do to him?” he gasps, and Joey pulls him away from the silvery substance forcibly.
“Alchemical silver. That'll stop his Regen and keep him from getting healed up for a while and trying to murder us again, and you would do best to avoid that stuff, too. C’mon, let's go. We bought ourselves a couple of minutes.”
Drenar hastily grabs the radio off the man's armor, along with the ammo belt, and dashes through the doorway where Joey is beckoning him to follow. She splashes a fluorescent blue fluid on Angela's wounds, and the blood flow stops on the claw wounds. She grimaces and rubs at the rapidly healing injury.
“Thank you, Joey. Drenar, you good?” he looks down at himself and sees a spatter of blood–and not his, either. He gives her a firm nod.
“I’m good. Let's keep moving, we've got people to protect.” They dart through the doorway after Angela scrunches down and manages to get past the frame, though she looks embarrassed at it being such a tight squeeze. He locks the door and barricades it with a cabinet, and Joey throws a canister to melt the metal together, glowing molten for a second before rapidly cooling. Her hair is disheveled and she has a bruise on her cheek, but she seems in good shape.
The danger is far from over, but at least they’ve bought some time.
