Chapter - Extraction (2)
[POV - BEAROF]
[Minutes Before Aedhira arrives]
Bearof's breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a painful reminder of the fatigue clawing at his body. His sword, a massive blade that had seen countless battles, felt heavier with each swing. The rain poured down in sheets, drenching him to the bone and turning the ground beneath his feet into a slick, treacherous mess. He stood alone at the central entry point, fending off the relentless tide of Fyrraths that swarmed towards the outpost.
At most, he'd been swinging his blade for the past 20 minutes...give or take 10. No equipment, no consumables, no buffs.
Just him, his sword and the Siege in front of him.
The other defenders, split into two small groups, fought valiantly on either side of him. Their cries of defiance mixed with the hissing and screeching of the Fyrraths, creating a nightmarish symphony that echoed through the storm. Bearof's muscles screamed in protest with every movement, but he forced himself to keep going.
A particularly large Fyrrath lunged at him, its mandibles snapping inches from his face. Bearof twisted his body, barely dodging the attack, and brought his sword down in a powerful arc. The blade cleaved through the creature's armored exoskeleton, spilling dark ichor onto the muddy ground. The Fyrrath convulsed and collapsed, but there were more behind it, always more.
"Hold the line!" Bearof roared, his voice barely audible over the storm. "We can't let them break through!"
The defenders responded with renewed vigor, their weapons flashing in the intermittent lightning. Despite their bravery, Bearof knew they were losing ground. The Fyrraths seemed endless, and exhaustion was taking its toll. Lives depended on him, too many for him to be comfortable with, but then again, there was never a day he was comfortable with the idea.
Suddenly, a new sound cut through the chaos—a deep, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through the very air. Bearof glanced up, his eyes narrowing as he searched for the source. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the monstrosity in the distance, its massive form barely visible through the torrential rain.
The storm intensified around it, getting worse by the second, and its form blurred, only outlined by the flashes of lightning around it.
"What in the name of the gods..." Bearof muttered, his grip tightening on his sword. The creature was causing the storm, or at the very least, amplifying it. At the moment, it seemed....almost dormant. The moment it became even remotely active, they were all as good as dead.
He had to act quickly. Turning his focus back to the immediate threat, Bearof swung his sword in a wide arc, decapitating a Fyrrath that had gotten too close. The defenders were being pushed.
Pushed back and pushed to their limits, Elara and Elora, far more pale-faced having constantly been healing the front-liners, were verging on collapse. Both parties had been forces out of the chokepoints, holding as well as they could.
And the combatants themselves weren't any better.
Bearof's situation grew increasingly dire with each passing second. His sword, once a symbol of his unyielding strength, now felt like a weight dragging him down. He scanned the battlefield, his heart heavy with the knowledge that his comrades were barely holding on. The rain was relentless, soaking everyone to the bone and making every movement more grueling.
He watched Varric, a formidable warrior reduced to fighting one-handed, his other arm hanging limp at his side. Each swing of Varric's damaged blade was driven by sheer determination, the metallic clang of metal meeting chitin echoing through the storm. Bearof knew that Varric wouldn't last much longer without aid.
Le'ahna's pale face was a stark contrast against the darkness, her usually vibrant energy diminished to a mere flicker. She had been pushing her Mana-Circuits to their limits, channeling powerful spells that kept the Fyrraths at bay, but now, her breaths came in ragged gasps, and she stumbled with every step.
Elara and Elora, the twin healers, were doing their best to tend to the wounded, but their own strength was waning. They shared the same pallor, their faces etched with fatigue and strain. The light from their healing spells grew dimmer, their hands shaking with the effort to keep their comrades alive.
Bearof knew they couldn't hold out much longer. The Fyrraths were relentless, their numbers seemingly endless. Each time he struck one down, two more took its place. The monstrous....'thing' in the distance loomed over them, its presence a constant reminder of their impending doom.
'This can't go on' he thought grimly.
A deep, resonant hum cut through the storm again, louder this time, sending a shiver down Bearof's spine. The blurred tornado in the distance began to glow brighter, arcs of lightning crackling around it. The air around the battlefield felt charged, the tension almost palpable.
'Shit' he muttered.
"Fall back to the ridge!" Bearof shouted, his voice hoarse but commanding. "We make our stand there!"
The defenders moved slowly at first, their bodies heavy with exhaustion, but Bearof's presence galvanized them. They began to retreat in a more organized fashion, using every ounce of their remaining strength to fend off the encroaching Fyrraths as they fell back. Bearof covered their retreat, his sword a whirlwind of steel as he carved through the creatures that dared to approach.
The climb to the ridge was arduous. The mud sucked at their feet, and the rain made every step treacherous. Bearof was the last to reach the ridge, his broad back shielding the others from the onslaught. He turned to face the approaching swarm, his sword raised in defiance.
"Hold the line!" he commanded once more, his voice a rallying cry.
The defenders formed a semi-circle, backs against the rock face, and braced for the next wave. Bearof stood at the center, his presence a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. The Fyrraths surged forward, but this time, they met with fierce resistance. Bearof's sword cut through them with renewed ferocity, the defenders around him fighting with everything they had left.
Sadly, life wasn't a pretty story, and miracles were rare. Fighting with 'everything' they had didn't mean much, when there wasn't much left.
Bearof's muscles spasmed in strain, momentarily faltering to bring up is blade. And what a moment it was to falter like so. The world slowed down-
'Ah, I've got such shit luck....the ONE time?'
His body failed to respond as a Fyrrath leaped-no, lunged at him, its pincers aiming for his relatively crushable head.
'Fuck me' he thought. What a shame it was his last.
.....Or at least it was supposed to be.
A blinding flash of light and a deafening impact shattered the scene. Bearof was momentarily disoriented as a powerful shockwave rippled through the battlefield, sending Fyrraths tumbling. Dust and debris filled the air, obscuring his vision, but he felt a surge of energy that wasn't his own.
When the dust settled, Bearof blinked, his vision clearing to reveal a resplendent, white figure, almost as if it'd been carved out of the most pristine marble, standing where the Fyrrath had been poised to strike him down. The figure, laced with multiple artistic engraving, flashed blue light, reflecting the storm's lightning, and in his hand was a shimmering blade. The newcomer's presence was commanding, radiating an aura of raw power and determination.
"Keep pushing!" it shouted, over the storm's roar.
"We've got to get everyone out of here!" the figure shouted, his voice strong and clear over the storm. Bearof recognized the command, the urgency in it echoing his own sentiments from moments before. The stranger's arrival had turned the tide, giving the defenders a glimmer of hope.
Bearof pushed himself up, his muscles screaming in protest. He locked eyes with the newcomer, gratitude and curiosity mingling in his gaze. "Who are you?" he rasped, his voice barely audible over the chaos.
"Aedhira," the man...no boy replied, his focus on the approaching Fyrraths. "Let's get through this first, then we'll talk."
Without waiting for a response, Aedhira launched himself at the nearest cluster of Fyrraths. His blade moved with blinding speed, each strike precise and deadly efficient. The creatures fell before him, their ranks breaking under the relentless assault. Bearof, inspired by Aedhira's prowess, found a renewed strength within himself. He gripped his sword tighter and joined the fray, his swings fueled by sheer determination.
The defenders, witnessing the combined might of Bearof and Aedhira, rallied once more. They fought with everything they had left, their spirits lifted by the sight of the two warriors standing firm against the monstrous onslaught. The rain pounded down on them, the wind howling like a banshee, but they held their ground.
"Fall back to the ridge!" Aedhira's voice cut through the storm, commanding and unyielding. "Get the refugees to safety!"
The defenders moved quickly, their retreat more organized this time. Bearof and Aedhira covered their withdrawal, cutting down any Fyrraths that dared to approach. The climb to the ridge was grueling, the mud sucking at their feet, but they pressed on, driven by the need to protect those behind them.
At the ridge, the defenders formed a defensive line, backs against the rock face. Aedhira stood at the center, his presence a beacon of hope. Bearof took his place beside him, his sword raised in defiance.
The Fyrraths surged forward, their numbers seemingly endless. But this time, they met with fierce resistance. Aedhira's blade cut through them with a ferocity that left Bearof in awe. He matched the newcomer's pace, his own strikes fueled by a newfound resolve.
"Hold the line!" Aedhira commanded, his voice a rallying cry. The defenders fought with everything they had, their spirits lifted by the sight of the two warriors standing firm against the monstrous onslaught. The storm raged around them, but they held their ground.
The roar of engines cut through the tempest, and Bearof glanced up to see extraction vessels descending from the stormy sky. Their lights pierced the darkness, offering a glimmer of hope. Relief surged through him, but he knew the fight wasn't over yet.
The vessels landed behind them, and the doors slid open. Out came 3 metal soldiers, armed with some kind of firearm.
'Androids' he recognized.
2 of the androids began gunning down the Fyrraths in sight, turning the tide in their favor. He finally managed to let out a breath, one he hadn't known he was holding. The other android began began helping those who were too injured to move any further get into the transport vessels.
"Get the refugees aboard!" Aedhira ordered, gesturing for the defenders to move. "We'll cover you!"
The defenders moved quickly, ushering themselves into the waiting transports. Bearof and Aedhira stood their ground, fighting off the relentless Fyrraths with every ounce of strength they had left. The creatures seemed to sense their impending defeat, their attacks growing more desperate and frenzied.
"Get aboard, now!" Aedhira shouted, gesturing for Bearof to move.
"What about you?" Bearof asked, eyes wide with concern.
"I'll be right behind you," Aedhira assured him, slicing through another Fyrrath. "Go!"
Bearof nodded and sprinted towards the transport. He glanced back at the battlefield as he reached the transport, watching Aedhira fight with relentless determination. The Fyrraths were retreating, driven back by the android's relentless assault.
'What models are those? I've never seen them so robust before' he wondered.
Bearof stepped aboard the transport, the doors closing behind him. He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily as the vessel lifted off. The storm raged outside, but inside, there was a momentary sense of peace.
"We made it," he muttered, relief washing over him.
The extraction vessels ascended into the stormy sky, their engines roaring. Bearof watched as the battlefield below receded, the monstrous fortress and the storm it had conjured becoming distant specks. He knew the fight wasn't over, but for now, they had survived. And that was enough.
He as grateful for the stranger's sacrif-
Bearof watched in stunned disbelief as the two androids crashed into the transport, their bodies skidding across the floor before coming to a halt in a tangled heap. The impact sent shockwaves through the vessel, making it shudder. Before he could react, Aedhira followed, flying in with a grace that seemed at odds with the chaos around him. He landed lightly on his feet, the energy from his thrusters dissipating in a soft hum.
Aedhira's visor retracted, revealing a determined yet surprisingly youthful face, unperturbed by all the conflict, and not a single blemish on that face. It was strangely...otherworldly, an unnatural perfection. With his seemingly lush white hair, and his blue eyes...reminiscent of the expensive jewels Artificiers used for enchanting.
He glanced at Bearof, offering a brief nod before turning his attention to the androids. Despite their rough landing, the machines began to stir, their systems rebooting with a series of mechanical whirs and clicks.
"Everyone accounted for?" Aedhira asked, his voice calm and authoritative despite the storm raging outside.
Bearof nodded, still catching his breath. "We're all here, thanks to you."
Aedhira gave a tight-lipped smile and looked around at the exhausted defenders and refugees huddled together. "We'll be out of this storm soon," he assured them. "Just hold on a little longer."
The transport vessel ascended higher, piercing through the thick clouds. The storm's fury gradually lessened, replaced by the serene blackness of space dotted with distant stars. The shift from the chaotic battlefield to the calm of space was jarring, almost surreal. Bearof felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a sense of relief washing over him as the immediate danger passed.
"Argos, status report," Aedhira commanded, to seemingly...no one? Suddenly a sound, a mature voice resounded in the cabin. The refugees were startled by the sudden voice, reaching for their weapons....or spells. But before someone did something stupid, he waved them off.
[All refugees and defenders are secure, Sire. The storm's influence is receding as we distance ourselves from the source.]
Bearof finally allowed himself to relax, leaning back against the wall of the transport. The adrenaline that had kept him going was beginning to fade, leaving a bone-deep exhaustion in its wake. He glanced at Aedhira, a thousand questions swirling in his mind.
"You're not from around here, are you?" Bearof finally asked, breaking the silence.
Aedhira shook his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "No, I'm not. But let's save the introductions for later. Right now, we need to make sure everyone is safe and get them to a secure location."
Bearof nodded, appreciating the priority given to the situation. "Thank you, Aedhira. We owe you our lives."
Aedhira waved off the gratitude, his focus shifting to the task at hand. "Just doing what needs to be done. Let's get through this, and then we can figure out the next steps."
The transport vessel continued its ascent, moving away from the storm-ravaged area. Bearof watched the shrinking view of the battlefield below, the monstrous...thing becoming a distant memory. The refugees huddled together, their faces a mix of relief and exhaustion. For now, they were safe. But Bearof knew that their journey was far from over. They had to regroup, heal, and prepare for whatever lay ahead.
Aedhira stood at the forefront, his presence a beacon of hope in the dimly lit transport. Bearof hoped they had found a powerful ally in him, someone who could tip the scales in their favor. The battle had been brutal, but it had also revealed a glimmer of hope—a chance to fight back and protect their home.
Yet....
"Esteemed sir....there still more of us lef-*COUGH*" he said before he'd entered a coughing fit. Elora and Elara quickly got to healing him, albeit not to much success, they were exhausted.
The boy turned to Bearof, with his brows furrowed. It almost looked cute. Almost. He internally shook his head, this was wolf in sheep's clothing. A wolf that had sliced it's way through dozens upon dozens of monsters. Benefactor or not, he wasn't foolish, not enough to trust a stranger, not in this situation.
"Ahem..." he'd cleared his throat to assert himself, yet the boy's eyes only narrowed.
'Damnit'
"We knew another wave was coming, but we didn't have enough combatants to ward it off. So we separated, most of the civilians accompanied by some of the weaker combatants, and us. We remained behind, so we could by them enough time to get away."
"Get away to where?" the boy replied.
"We had information of a nearby outpost....well not nearby, but compared to the rest-"
"It was the closest" the boy finished.
"That's right. A convoy of three Cargo-Class Carriages"
Aedhira's expression grew more intense as he processed the information. "So there's another group out there, still in danger," he said, more to himself than to Bearof. His eyes scanned the cabin, taking in the exhausted and injured defenders.
Bearof felt a mix of hope and anxiety. The relief of being safe, however temporary, warred with the guilt and worry for those still out there, fighting for their lives. "Do you think we can reach them in time?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern.
Aedhira's eyes sharpened with resolve. "We have to. Argos, can you locate the convoy?"
The voice from earlier, Argos, responded with a calm, mechanical tone. [Accessing Observer visual data and scanning for matches...located. The convoy is approximately fifty kilometers of our current position, moving at reduced speed due to the terrain and the storm's residual effects.]
Aedhira nodded. "Set a course to intercept. We need to get to them before the Fyrraths do. And..."
Aedhira looked at the 'Combatants' dubbed by Bearof. They were tired. Weary. And ultimately unreliable at the moment. Then he looked at the walls of the transport vessel.
"How many?" Aedhira sounded out.
"About 60, maybe more"
"This isn't going to be enough is it?"
Bearof returned a rueful smile and shook his head.
[Course plotted. Engaging thrusters for rapid transit.]
The transport vessel banked sharply, the engines roaring to life as it accelerated towards the convoy's location. Bearof could feel the shift in momentum, a renewed sense of urgency permeating the air. The Combatants, though weary, straightened with a newfound resolve. They weren't out of the fight yet.
Bearof took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Thank you, Aedhira," he said again, his gratitude sincere. "You saved us back there. I don't know how we'll repay you."
Aedhira waved off the thanks with a faint smile. "Focus on surviving first. We can worry about the rest later."
He walked off to a different corner of the cabin, dragging what appeared to be a impractically-large armored skirt. Though there wasn't any sound of it screeching against the floor, which Bearof found odd.
As the transport sped through the starry skies, Bearof glanced around at his comrades. Varric, despite his injuries, was checking his weapons, a grim determination etched on his face. Le'ahna was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed in concentration as she tried to regain some of her spent energy. Elara and Elora were tending to the wounded, their hands glowing softly with healing magic.
The minutes stretched on, each one feeling like an eternity. The transport's interior was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the occasional rumble of thunder and the hum of the engines. Bearof's mind raced, wondering if they would make it in time, if they could save the others.
Finally, Argos spoke again. [We are approaching the convoy. Detecting multiple Fyrrath signatures in the vicinity. They are closing in on the convoy.]
Aedhira's eyes flashed with determination. He looked to the group of worn fighters. "Stay, I'll go with these two and clear them out", and his tone indicated that it WASN'T a request.
"Idiots"
"SIRE!" the two androids suddenly echoed, startling both Bearof and the rest.
The door to the vessel opened and the sound rumbling engines of the transport became even clearer to hear.
"Follow" he told the androids.
The two androids, ran at the door without any hesitation or even a second glance and leaped. Yet the boy sighed.
"Idiots" he said, before his face got covered. He hadn't actually paid any attention to the 'helm' back then since it was so hectic. But now after getting a better look....
An all black, eerie visor encompassed his face. To the sides of his head were four floating insignias, of..comets? No, shooting stars. The visor itself was an oddity, that seemed to swallow all light but what appeared within them was even more startling. Within them, two streaks of gold flickered to life like a flame. They moved around the visor, then in his direction, narrowing in shape, peering at him as if to say;
'Don't do anything stupid'
Aedhira turned to the door, as his back lit up. 2 jets of flame flared as he jerked, then blasted out of the cabin like a missile with a target.
Bearof felt the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, letting out a sigh of relief. As did the people behind him.
'I'm too old for this bullshit, should've retired when they told me to, damnit.
He looked towards to open door.
Mother bless my soul'