#awokenhunter

Dust kicked up by the coming storm floated in the air around the crouched figure that looked at home among the brush and boulders congregated in the ditch. All around her there were shadows of titans of lost empire, rusted ruins of a thousand lost souls that had the only sin of belonging to the wrong empire. She had been in this spot for a time, watching the pack of pike riders’ squabble over something in the dust, they didn’t seem to mind the fact that the storm blowing in off the shifting waters was growing in strength with each new gust of wind. Even though this was just Earth, not some super charged lightning carried in a roving casket of sulfur like they would find on Venus, or relentless and cold dust storms that plagued Mars this was still a danger in its suffocating simplicity. The Traveler did much, Rasputin protects all, but sometimes the natural might can overcome even the wildest of odds. The soft sound of sand pelting her cloak, small rocks and occasional bits of rust and metal from the hulks of ships and buildings that once cluttered the shore was a music in her ear a symphony that told her when the right time was to move in the same way the dreg’s distractions told her if the time was right. She was patient. And they were ignorant.

}}I know how much you like your alone time, and I also know just how much you love a dramatic entrance…

The sound of her ghost, whispering in her ear as the little miracle danced along the shrubs just at the edge of her sight. It was a practiced dance that Laufey knew well, keep hidden behind the nearest boulder, stay just on the peripherals and interrupt only if necessary. Behind the helm, the awoken hunter inside grinned with anticipation, shifting only slightly to uncoil herself still shifting with the deliberate pace of a predator careful enough to keep most of the dust on her cloak from flaking off. Laufey was right, she did love a good dramatic entrance…As the lightning flashed Lydia sprung up from her crouched position just behind the lowest boulder and lobbed a grenade right in between the three dregs all in time with the strike of lightning that hit one of the towers of the closest ships silhouetting her and her leap closer.

The fight was quick, without the fire power of their pikes and the added distraction of an attack all on top of the natural world reminding them that there were other things out there that could wield arc, and sometimes those things were beyond corporeal. Fast and quick and not a bullet wasted on them, Lydia was crouched over one dreg taking her knife out of the side of it’s head, “Laufey, scan the pikes for parts, might be some salvageable things there…” But her ghost didn’t respond right away, until buzzing like the little firefly she was, Laufey reappeared at her shoulder, }}I found something much more interesting, those pikes aren’t going anywhere and I don’t need you to be struck by lightning. Come on. As if to accentuate what she said, another lightning strike rippled through the shipyard, close enough to shake the ground as some rusted hulk fell over in it’s wake. With her knife retrieved she followed after her ghost until she stopped inside what looked to have been some shelter from whatever storms this place had seen before. Inside a pile of scrap metal pieces inscribed with old languages that she’d need the help of Laufey to understand, others she could read. Some of the pieces of metal held small words scribbled from edge to edge, others held one or two at the very least.

}}A library of sorts maybe? They all seem to be tied to philosophers, writers and poets…Fallen with a strange habit?