Year 765 The Storm Crawler Charge

Someone rode this creature’s back. They wear a hooded cloak that hides the frame of the individual and held a large hunting horn in one hand.

In the rear of the beast, Jerilyn anchors on by stabbing the beast back end and holding it. The beast bucks and rears trying to shake off a cackling blond. She enjoys the rodeo, a natural even by bracing with each motion. The only thing is her hat nearly fell off if it isn’t the string around her neck keeping it close.

Connor snaps out of the shock and releases his hand off Rhea. Instantly, he is now pointing his rifle at the legs of the beast.

Rhea reacts as well; the presence of the cloaked individual unsettles her and even more so that they had the Chieftain Horn in their possessions.

“VISKHA BRASKA! You let this person take the sacred horn?”

Rhea uses her rage to set another wall of fire in front of the beast's path, scaring it to the point that it rears up so high it knocks off the cloaked figure. Jerilyn somehow stays on and Connor aims for the bend of its back legs. The bullet pierces right through the tendon and joint. Without any proper footing the beast fell on its side, thrashing to get up. Jerilyn pries her spear off and hops right above the beast's head. The deranged huntress brought the sharp end of the spear down the beady eye until she hit the skull. Instead of red blood, yellow ooze erupts from the socket.

The beast soon stops thrashing, and Rhea would love to take a second to admire the ease of the kill and that woman’s odd strength. Instead, she faces the cloaked individual and her skin is crawling sensing something wrong from this one again. This aura…it’s like that scummy Viktor…

Rhea couldn’t help but to chase after this person, slightly ignoring the spectacle of the Rheno and even her husband calling to her. Under the hood is a very pale gaunt face and creole irises circled by bloody veins. Thin blue lips curves downward in their presence, but no words came out of them. The stranger pulls the horn to their lips about to sound it, but Rhea stops it by swinging a ball of fire right at them.

They dodge it with odd dexterity, shooting death glares her way. The stranger would again attempt to sound it again.

Rhea this time charges in, one hand grabs the horn and the other bright with intense heat and intends to punch the individual.

Strangely they are just as quick, their free hand hardens with red ice and clutches Rhea's burning fist. The mere contact sizzles but no further and the hooded figure clicks their tongue. "Big...mistake mana brat."

Alarmed, she struggles to get away from the now bastard addict. They brought her close to land a devastating kick to the chest. As scrawny as this individual is they pack a lot of power in their kick, sending her tumbling back.

Flipping onto her arms on the ground, the first breath she took gifts her with searing pain throughout her chest. All she could do in the meantime was hack out blood, from that alone she knew she had some broken ribs. Cuts heal in a matter of minutes for mages, but bones still take a few days to heal.

She can hear Connor calling out to her again after a barrage of gunshots. With all her resolve she picks herself right up, strangling for breath but each one hurt more than the last. Her body wants to keel over and rest, there is no time.

Bear the pain!

Rhea raises her head to see Connor standing between her and the hooded jerk. He swaps his rifle to his sword since he probably isn’t landing any bullets earlier. This crazy addict is much more slippery than either of them could have guessed. Rhea didn’t make the right call, since this individual is shorter than Connor and very thin.

Jerilyn leaps to the hooded figure. Swinging that spear of hers like a third appendage, she kept sufficient distance to catch up in the stranger's bubble.

The stranger dodges each swing, the corner of their lip twitching with irritation. Eventually to throw the huntress off, the cloaked figure tosses the horn at the blond's face. Jerilyn moves back to avoid it, and the arcane addict took this to build a wall of red ice between them.

Connor snuck in, with his face twisting with rage, he swung his blade at the cloaked mage. The warlock saw this coming, forming a bladed arm out of red crystal, locking their swords.

Whatever this arcane warlock was before the magic they are a force to be reckoned with. Rhea got on her feet shaking away the pain, breathing in concentration again. She wills arrow shaped flames midair, waiting for the moment to strike. The cloaked figure drags their icy blade along Connor's in a way to deflect and dance around him, Connor had to back away considerably to avoid another swing. That is when she sets them free. They all home in on the arcane warlock.

The warlock with senses she can never understand had reddened ice wall grow underneath them to avoid them entirely. Then the ground before Rhea crack and she can see reddened ice about to sprout and hit her. Without further delay, Rhea blasts her flames right below herself to send herself backwards not to destroy this pointy ice. They already prove that the ice is stronger than even her fire right now.

Rhea rolls back to her knees, gasping through the pain of her lungs. She is incredibly lucky that ice did not reach her, she might have suffered something worse than broken ribs.

Rhea can tell the explosion did burn away her sleeve and cloak. Another issue that Connor will surely point out.

The warlock out of range of everyone rode along the top of this ice wall with ease. With not a second to lose they hop above the entrance of the ruin and vanish in the crack of the fortress.

Tempted to follow but slowed down due to injury, Rhea snarls with rage shining in her silver eyes. With nothing to hit, she just took it on the ground in one angry punch.

Connor didn’t hide his feelings, sliding his sword to its sheath with a fowl frown on his features. The bandana that kept the hair away from his face only exposing more of his frown.

Jerilyn did not share the rage if anything her eyes glitter with amusement and she nearly vibrates in place. "Oh joy! An arcane warlock!"

"Leave them!" Connor snaps at the huntress, "They are a waste of time and energy."

Jerilyn mopes underneath her metal mask, "Not to be rude but I don't remember ya'll ever hiring me."

"Then go. You got what you wanted." Connor's cold voice slices through the air, even Rhea shivers underneath it but she had to remind herself that it isn’t directed towards her. He turns his back at Jerilyn walking towards Rhea.

Rhea rose, carefully so she doesn’t give away the pain of the ribs. Yet that didn’t work, he would place a hand on her back to quietly guide her back towards the entrance. The silence is damning and her taut lip quivers.

He is very mad.

"Cold as this red ice reminds me of a fellah" -She taps the bladed end against the solid ice wall-" Unfortunately for you, I don't want to leave just yet." Jerilyn giggles and chucks the hunting horn towards Rhea. Connor is the one to catch it, he is on edge if he is not going to let Rhea catch this. "This belongs to your people, little ember. Be careful not to lose it"

He inspects the horn, looking like he is about ignore Jerilyn’s sudden good intention.

“Connor…” Rhea beckons for the horn and Connor finally gives it to her but with the same frown as earlier.

Rhea ignores him for now to examine the horn, made off the Rheno horn and carved with art of all the names of the past chieftains. She even saw the name of her late grandfather, Xiapo. This held way more value than anything that Braska adorn himself. And he failed to keep it safe.

"Thank you, Miss Jerilyn." Rhea croaks, forgetting that she is dealing with some nasty rib fractures. Despite the pain, she kept her composure trying to avoid another reason for Connor to hide her away. Of course, it’s a miserable attempt since she can feel him search her with just his gaze alone.

The awkwardness poises in Jerlyn's posture, whatever she was about to say changing in the last breath, "Oh a pleasure to be of help! Ciao."

The blond sprints off towards the tree lines, in search of those monsters.

Rhea’s gaze follows the strange female, grateful that she is a natural distraction. Regardless, Connor isn’t going to wait for her to finish staring. He guides her back to the mouth of the entrance.

The female slings the horn over her shoulder, wincing from the motion alone.

"Sit down and take a breather."

With strange obedience, she did as he commands and welcome the rest as if she died without it. Leaning against the wall, she stretches out her aching legs. Her hand reaches for the wet skin and she takes a few chugs of the water but not too fast. Even that made her side ache, her other hand presses on the aching area just below her breast.

Not noticing Connor’s diligent stare, he was not going to let this slide as well. "You are hurt."

Rhea stops her drinking, eyes wide. Playing it off like it did not bother her she moves her hand away from the spot, "Not too bad. The warlock was worse off."

Her spouse did not take her sarcasm as appropriate, even as far as scowling at her. Was the joke that bad?

He knelt right next to her just to press his hand against the sensitive spot to inspect. She hisses in pain fighting back the urge to push him, “By the gods! Give me a warning."

"After all your recklessness, be glad that I don't just have you locked in a room forever." He traces along and the frown only etches deeper. " You have three broken ribs."

"You know, I could just tell you that with less touching." She fusses; he gracefully ignores her whining.

With that inspection he now had a new game plan. Just not one she likes. "You will stay here."

"No", she retorts, "I am a mage, I heal from injuries a lot faster than a normal person."

He did not believe her with the way he dons that doubt on his face. " Okay, how long does it take for your bones to heal?"

"A few d-I mean-hours." Rhea tries to correct herself, but it is too late. He is beyond coercing.

"Thought so, I am going in." He straightens himself up, ready to advance deeper in the underground city alone. The darkness of the distance and the heat that permeates only made her more worried.

She got up as well, puffing her cheeks in frustration. "It will be smarter to stick together, regardless of my injury."

"I am not repeating myself again."

"Do not waste your breath. I am not going to listen anyways; your safety is my priority. If that gets me keelhauled for treason then so be it" Rhea challenges, if he thinks he could stop her he would have to think again. Connor towers over her easily and they both held their stance as if ready to block one another.

Her stance slacks, trying to make peace with her stubborn captain. "It is not a broken leg, Connor. I can still run if things get too dangerous" Meaning I can even outrun you, big dummy.

He did not lower his guard, the considerations surfacing in the tenseness of his jaw. In that very mind of is, she knew he even considered knocking her out. Such a lovely couple we are wanting to gain the upper hand. Our combined stubbornness will even move Erathea.

"The next time you do something reckless you will be removed from any future endeavors and cordially bound to the bed.” He voices flatly to emphasize that he is profoundly serious with this threat. He turns on his heels to hide his exasperation.

Kinky. "Oh, you are only this upset because of our relationship. If it were anybody else, you pat them on their back." Rhea grumbles, now more annoyed than anything.

Connor comments, just as irritated. "Sure, I would also have them hog tied to a bowsprit if they ever crossed me so consider yourself privileged."

She inspects his broad back as he descends the dark hall with lip held taut on her face. Then she caught up to him, brushing her curls away from her face, "So, you mentioned bondage a few times.”

“And your point?"

" I do not know. You keep mentioning tying me or hypothetical people to things just thought-"

"Arken’s choad! I am ending this conversation now!' Connor picks up his pace to hide his blushing angry face. His reaction is more suspicious than what his real views are towards bondage.

However, the lightheartedness leaves her and in came the foreboding as soon as Connor applies something on his skin. It looks blue with no smell to it; he spread it along intentional symbols on his skin. Something occurs in her line of sight, something she cannot explain. A soft silver aura exudes from him…