#cain shepard

The figure raised their hands, fingers splayed. Unarmed? Impossible. A crackle came from their suit. Every muscle in his body tensed. Then a garbled series of sounds echoed from the helm as the being stepped forwards out of the contraption. The elf straightened, eyes threatening.

“I said, don’t move!” As he advanced with his bow, the figure jerked back and waved it’s hands. It seemed it finally understood. “Great... so, you can’t understand me, can you?”

The being remained still for a moment. Seemed not. Ever so slowly, the stranger brought their hands down to their helmet. Click- then a hiss, and they lifted away the armour to reveal... a shem?!

They seemed average enough. Skin tan, hair black and curly, golden eyes - and enough scars to deduce this one had been in many battles. Not that this helped Nin in the slightest. Shem or not it was obvious that they couldn’t understand each other verbally. So how was he supposed to get anything out of this guy?

“Uh... fuck, why me...?” He grumbled.

The stranger started speaking but it sounded so wrong to his ears. Yet, something was making sense. Ever so often there was a word that sounded familiar. Could this ones language be ancient or maybe derived from theirs?

“I’m... going to lower my bow, and we can, talk, kind of...” The other visibly relaxed as the bow was relaxed. Where to even start? He pointed to himself “Um... My name’s Ninimel.”

The being nodded slowly - that was something that made sense at least - a nod. “Ni...Ne...Nin” It was obvious that something about their language felt weird to the stranger. They shook their head, in frustration (?) judging by their expression. “Cain,” they pointed to themselves.

“Ca...in? Cain. Good, good that’s something.” Ninimel nodded, noting the little shock.

“Good?” Of all things to make sense.

“Yes, good--” A sing of magic reached Nin’s ears - not enough time. The fireball burst against his armour. “Dammit--”

There were two cracks and... no more magic? Ninimel hadn’t even raised his bow. Looking to the stranger, he saw the strange thing in their hand, then the body at the treeline. Creators his brain was going to explode. What was that thing? Who was Cain? Why did he have to be the one to find this? If only Dagna or Dorian were here, they’d have some idea of what to do.

“That seems useful...” he absently noted, brushing off the remnant magic. “Creators preserve me... what is going on?”

The stranger - Cain, lowered the item and turned back to face him. They bent a little at the waist (a bow?) before putting their helmet back on and backing into the metal box. 

“Oi! Wait! You can just run off?!” But the door was already shutting. He growled and made to move towards it. Then the hum turned to a loud growl and wind whipped up into his face. He cursed as he covered his face, only hearing the thing lift off the ground and shoot off into the sky.