5 Ymiden 718
It was driving her crazy. This "white buffalo" had been haunting her for what felt like entire seasons. It filled the background of her world, echoing now and then through the tunnels she traveled like a teasing, bodiless voice in the wind. For a while she'd come to ignore it. She convinced herself she had no need for it. Max and Mercedes had found the occasional dripping ceiling to moisten their dry mouths. It was never all that much, but always just enough to keep them alive. What she'd been hearing was no slow drip. It was what sounded like a gentle rush of certified, running water. A permanent source of one of the rarest resources in The Beneath. The sort any prisoner would maim and murder for. And she couldn't find it.
Admittedly, there had been a couple times that Maxine had gone looking for the prize. Her hunts were never fruitful. The tunnels had a knack for bouncing sounds oddly about their dark world. A few times she thought she was close, only to turn the next corner and hear it more distantly than ever. Part of her swore it had to have been nothing more than an illusion. Perhaps her mind had conjured the fantasy up like a parched man crawling through the endless sands of a desert; or it was a cruel ruse the guards played on their heinous criminal omegas. To continue looking for the ghost water was to bring upon madness. The marked woman had gone down that road before. Arguably, she was still very much on it. For what it was worth though, she didn't want to completely lose what was left of the sanity that remained. If any truly remained at all.
The trial started just as the others before it: actively ignoring the sound and venturing deeper in The Beneath to mine for Ran'dar. Handing over valuable finds to the Ithecal mage was always a little painful. Of course she knew deep down that it was a necessary endeavor. Without her reptilian master she wouldn't survive. He protected and taught her and Mercedes things they needed to know to survive in Slags Deep. If it wasn't for his intervention early on, she would've been mauled to death by some canine man's wolf familiar. The price she paid was service. Max had forfeit her ability to pay off her own debts but it hardly mattered. Sixty-eight arcs of incarceration were impossible to pay off at the rate she could successfully mine for valuables. She doubted anyone made it sixty-eight arcs in The Beneath. More than likely, she was going to die down here. All that was left to do was make the most of it, and make it as long as she could.
After her next swing of the pickaxe into the wall, Maxine paused. At first there was naught but silence. After a few trills her eyes widened and her head snapped to her left, gaze peering in vain down the length of the tunnel. Her nose scrunched with disgust, but it would've been fear filling her in that moment if not for her inability to experience it. Coming closer rang the sound of dragging feet, unstable gaits, and a putrid smell so horrid it would make the most stubborn of stomachs empty their contents. Each of these indicators could only mean one thing.
Fucking Couriers...
The last time she ran into these piles of decomposing plagues had been a close call. She'd foolishly stopped to battle the shufflers rather than turn and run, and had it not been for Mercedes enclosing her in a protective earth shell before he lit them all to smithereens, the Mixed Race would've been a corpse herself by now. This time she was alone. There would be no partner to save her should her own audacity fail her. She had to move. Now. Maxine quietly placed her pickaxe on the ground and swiftly left her work site. It should've been an easy escape: hear the Couriers coming one way, so go the other. She wasn't even all that worried...that is until she turned the corner, only to be met with more echoes. The marked woman's brow rose, head snapped left and then right.
Shit! There's no where to go!
Wedged between two shuffling hordes, her options were limited. She could stand and fight. Lightning didn't strike twice in the same place all that often. Lady Luck might've favored her, but Maxine doubted she could escape infection in a combat scenario with these walking infections twice. A less headstrong companion probably could've helped her think her way out of this one. The marked woman was rarely so lucky. There was no time to conjure up an alternative plan. There was nothing to do but fight and die. Apparently this would be it. Maxine would die down here in a dark pit, not felled by the sword of justice or the blade of an enemy, but by contracting illness from the dead, fungus-ridden flesh of Lissira's minions...assuming they didn't rip her apart first. Like them, she'd perish only to rise again as another staggering, soulless vessel. The thought sent an unsettled shiver down her spine. This was a fate worse than death.
Maxine's hand found the wall in search of a piece of rock she could break off to defend herself with. Instead her fingers dipped in between the jagged edges of a crevice. It wasn't a wide opening by any means. However, it proved just large enough that the near starving body of a prisoner could squeeze through. Maxine pressed her way toward salvation, sucking in and forcing herself through the tight squeeze until she collapsed on its other side. It was a good thing too. The rest of her journey proved too low for any to continue standing tall on their feet. On hands and knees she pressed on further from the hordes about to run into each other. Gravel ground against the hardened skin of her palms, rocky ceiling of the crawl space scratching new cuts through the back of her tattered robe.
When she finally emerged, she didn't just feel the air above that indicated she could return to a stand. The sound of that rushing water crashed upon her ears with a roaring echo that commanded her total attention. Upon finding her feet, she blinked incredulously in the direction of the once near-mythic source. She took a few tentative steps in its direction. Maxine could even feel the gentle, rising mist coming to rest upon her cheeks. A bright grin spread like wildfire upon her face. She'd found it! Finally, she'd found it after all this time! Like all good things, her excitement didn't last. Before she had a chance to even mentally celebrate, her elation was broken with a single voice in the darkness behind her.
"Another fool come here to die?"
How she didn't hear the stranger's approach, Maxine hadn't a clue. There was no time to ponder or raise her defenses either. By the time she spun around, a massive sheet of air struck her chest. The marked woman went airborne a few feet before her back dropped against the hard stone floor. She coughed her surprise and quickly rolled onto her stomach to push herself back up. Once back on her feet though, she found her initial lunge was cut short by an all too familiar shackling force. She made a fist and gave it a tug away from her body. Sure enough, the invisible chains kept her from making much progress.
Of course. A fucking Abrogation user. I should've taken the fucking Couriers!
"I'm not sure what lucky break landed you in here, what with all our defenses," the raspy voice tsked. "It doesn't matter. Like all the unfortunate souls that came before, we'll make yet another example out of you." She couldn't hear the foot steps approaching her, but she could smell the stench of the man. Like everyone else, he reeked of sweat, dirt, and ill intent. When he spoke his words carried with them the scent of rot between his teeth. "But first...I'd like to have a little fun with you. What do you say, gorgeous? Let's get a good look at you." A ball of fire ignited in the palm of the mage's hand. The sudden burst of light had Maxine turning away, eyes rapidly blinking with irritation before she could cast her gaze upon the illuminated enemy before her. His eyes were deeply encrusted with stones and dirt clung fiercely to his skin in thick patches. Though his hair was long and matted and a large beard covered his face, it all grew in bizarre patches that exposed flattened ears and strangely pinkish skin. "Mmmm," he hummed with tilted head as he looked upon his captive. "Oh, yes. I'll have plenty of fun before I tire of you."
Maxine had been in bad positions before. To even describe them so lightly was being facetious. Shackled and held prisoner within a prison by this wildcard looked like it concluded with anything but a happy ending. This was certainly up there as one of the worst though. It was times like this one that one with a brain would remain perfectly silent and compliant. She probably should've started pleading for her life. Then again, Maxine rarely did what she was supposed to do. Instead of doing anything that resembled the "smart thing" she resigned to her instincts and did the "Max thing" instead.
"My boyfriend said something similar before I outlasted him in bed," the marked woman mocked with a raised brow in challenge. "I only play rough. Come on, coward. Release me and we'll see who taps out first."
"This Is Speech Text"|"These Are Thoughts"
It was driving her crazy. This "white buffalo" had been haunting her for what felt like entire seasons. It filled the background of her world, echoing now and then through the tunnels she traveled like a teasing, bodiless voice in the wind. For a while she'd come to ignore it. She convinced herself she had no need for it. Max and Mercedes had found the occasional dripping ceiling to moisten their dry mouths. It was never all that much, but always just enough to keep them alive. What she'd been hearing was no slow drip. It was what sounded like a gentle rush of certified, running water. A permanent source of one of the rarest resources in The Beneath. The sort any prisoner would maim and murder for. And she couldn't find it.
Admittedly, there had been a couple times that Maxine had gone looking for the prize. Her hunts were never fruitful. The tunnels had a knack for bouncing sounds oddly about their dark world. A few times she thought she was close, only to turn the next corner and hear it more distantly than ever. Part of her swore it had to have been nothing more than an illusion. Perhaps her mind had conjured the fantasy up like a parched man crawling through the endless sands of a desert; or it was a cruel ruse the guards played on their heinous criminal omegas. To continue looking for the ghost water was to bring upon madness. The marked woman had gone down that road before. Arguably, she was still very much on it. For what it was worth though, she didn't want to completely lose what was left of the sanity that remained. If any truly remained at all.
The trial started just as the others before it: actively ignoring the sound and venturing deeper in The Beneath to mine for Ran'dar. Handing over valuable finds to the Ithecal mage was always a little painful. Of course she knew deep down that it was a necessary endeavor. Without her reptilian master she wouldn't survive. He protected and taught her and Mercedes things they needed to know to survive in Slags Deep. If it wasn't for his intervention early on, she would've been mauled to death by some canine man's wolf familiar. The price she paid was service. Max had forfeit her ability to pay off her own debts but it hardly mattered. Sixty-eight arcs of incarceration were impossible to pay off at the rate she could successfully mine for valuables. She doubted anyone made it sixty-eight arcs in The Beneath. More than likely, she was going to die down here. All that was left to do was make the most of it, and make it as long as she could.
After her next swing of the pickaxe into the wall, Maxine paused. At first there was naught but silence. After a few trills her eyes widened and her head snapped to her left, gaze peering in vain down the length of the tunnel. Her nose scrunched with disgust, but it would've been fear filling her in that moment if not for her inability to experience it. Coming closer rang the sound of dragging feet, unstable gaits, and a putrid smell so horrid it would make the most stubborn of stomachs empty their contents. Each of these indicators could only mean one thing.
Fucking Couriers...
The last time she ran into these piles of decomposing plagues had been a close call. She'd foolishly stopped to battle the shufflers rather than turn and run, and had it not been for Mercedes enclosing her in a protective earth shell before he lit them all to smithereens, the Mixed Race would've been a corpse herself by now. This time she was alone. There would be no partner to save her should her own audacity fail her. She had to move. Now. Maxine quietly placed her pickaxe on the ground and swiftly left her work site. It should've been an easy escape: hear the Couriers coming one way, so go the other. She wasn't even all that worried...that is until she turned the corner, only to be met with more echoes. The marked woman's brow rose, head snapped left and then right.
Shit! There's no where to go!
Wedged between two shuffling hordes, her options were limited. She could stand and fight. Lightning didn't strike twice in the same place all that often. Lady Luck might've favored her, but Maxine doubted she could escape infection in a combat scenario with these walking infections twice. A less headstrong companion probably could've helped her think her way out of this one. The marked woman was rarely so lucky. There was no time to conjure up an alternative plan. There was nothing to do but fight and die. Apparently this would be it. Maxine would die down here in a dark pit, not felled by the sword of justice or the blade of an enemy, but by contracting illness from the dead, fungus-ridden flesh of Lissira's minions...assuming they didn't rip her apart first. Like them, she'd perish only to rise again as another staggering, soulless vessel. The thought sent an unsettled shiver down her spine. This was a fate worse than death.
Maxine's hand found the wall in search of a piece of rock she could break off to defend herself with. Instead her fingers dipped in between the jagged edges of a crevice. It wasn't a wide opening by any means. However, it proved just large enough that the near starving body of a prisoner could squeeze through. Maxine pressed her way toward salvation, sucking in and forcing herself through the tight squeeze until she collapsed on its other side. It was a good thing too. The rest of her journey proved too low for any to continue standing tall on their feet. On hands and knees she pressed on further from the hordes about to run into each other. Gravel ground against the hardened skin of her palms, rocky ceiling of the crawl space scratching new cuts through the back of her tattered robe.
When she finally emerged, she didn't just feel the air above that indicated she could return to a stand. The sound of that rushing water crashed upon her ears with a roaring echo that commanded her total attention. Upon finding her feet, she blinked incredulously in the direction of the once near-mythic source. She took a few tentative steps in its direction. Maxine could even feel the gentle, rising mist coming to rest upon her cheeks. A bright grin spread like wildfire upon her face. She'd found it! Finally, she'd found it after all this time! Like all good things, her excitement didn't last. Before she had a chance to even mentally celebrate, her elation was broken with a single voice in the darkness behind her.
"Another fool come here to die?"
How she didn't hear the stranger's approach, Maxine hadn't a clue. There was no time to ponder or raise her defenses either. By the time she spun around, a massive sheet of air struck her chest. The marked woman went airborne a few feet before her back dropped against the hard stone floor. She coughed her surprise and quickly rolled onto her stomach to push herself back up. Once back on her feet though, she found her initial lunge was cut short by an all too familiar shackling force. She made a fist and gave it a tug away from her body. Sure enough, the invisible chains kept her from making much progress.
Of course. A fucking Abrogation user. I should've taken the fucking Couriers!
"I'm not sure what lucky break landed you in here, what with all our defenses," the raspy voice tsked. "It doesn't matter. Like all the unfortunate souls that came before, we'll make yet another example out of you." She couldn't hear the foot steps approaching her, but she could smell the stench of the man. Like everyone else, he reeked of sweat, dirt, and ill intent. When he spoke his words carried with them the scent of rot between his teeth. "But first...I'd like to have a little fun with you. What do you say, gorgeous? Let's get a good look at you." A ball of fire ignited in the palm of the mage's hand. The sudden burst of light had Maxine turning away, eyes rapidly blinking with irritation before she could cast her gaze upon the illuminated enemy before her. His eyes were deeply encrusted with stones and dirt clung fiercely to his skin in thick patches. Though his hair was long and matted and a large beard covered his face, it all grew in bizarre patches that exposed flattened ears and strangely pinkish skin. "Mmmm," he hummed with tilted head as he looked upon his captive. "Oh, yes. I'll have plenty of fun before I tire of you."
Maxine had been in bad positions before. To even describe them so lightly was being facetious. Shackled and held prisoner within a prison by this wildcard looked like it concluded with anything but a happy ending. This was certainly up there as one of the worst though. It was times like this one that one with a brain would remain perfectly silent and compliant. She probably should've started pleading for her life. Then again, Maxine rarely did what she was supposed to do. Instead of doing anything that resembled the "smart thing" she resigned to her instincts and did the "Max thing" instead.
"My boyfriend said something similar before I outlasted him in bed," the marked woman mocked with a raised brow in challenge. "I only play rough. Come on, coward. Release me and we'll see who taps out first."
"This Is Speech Text"|"These Are Thoughts"
