Issue 1 Downtime

The clearing where Miranda had fought the elves was now starting to attract scavengers of the animal variety. Apparently whoever had killed them hadn't seen fit to come back and bury them. Miranda's sword still lay in the middle of the clearing. The scorched remains of the ward she'd scratched into the ground were not far away.

A large mischief of rats moved over the terrain followed shortly on all fours by Vertie and her tiger. She paused now and then to kick over a stone or concrete slab, if she found something of potential use she shoved it into one of her pockets or backpack.

"What a damn mess," Brigid says as she climbs over the rubble.

"Lots of people things. Shiney things. Blood food, fire dirt." Vertie stood and blinked at Brigid. "Something tried to come in swinging real hard at Randa."

A few of the elves exhibited definite sword injuries and at least a couple looked like they'd been done in by them. The rest looked like they'd died from sudden, acute nosebleeds and given the looks their faces had frozen in, quite painful nosebleeds.

"Curious they didn't take the sword..."

"Maybe none survived long enough to realize she dropped it." She knelt and pushed several rats off a "frozen" elf to look it over closely. "Her Teep's gotten impressive, granted this was Hulk Smash, but if she can fine tune this much power down, Theresa may have a real shot at coming back."

A quick count of bodies would give a rough approximation to the number the elves would send in a typical raiding party.

"I've... still got to talk to Jen about that."

"Not sure if it will matter, but she knows. Theresa knows she's been hurt. I think the storm last night cleared her mind a little." Vertie and the rats followed the foot prints around, visualizing the fight.

"Feel a bit like a coward. Even with what I know, I'm still more comfortable out here where there's something I can hit."

"You and me both, but we have our place and our friends need us. We both have a very specific set of skills, no need to be ashamed of them, because they are exactly what's kept us alive this long and they will help keep those we love alive."

"I haven't been ashamed of it in ages. I just... know what works for me, eh?"

The footprints were a confused mess, but it looked like the elves had fanned out to circle Miranda, possibly after the first one had lost his hand. One of the elves was still clutching a bow with most of the arrows spilling out of his quiver where he'd fallen.

"Weird, this one didn't get many shots off. The shield falling must have scrambled her more then she expected."

"Or the intervention was a bit more than she thought..."

Other than the nosebleed, there were no visible injuries on the archer. Looking closer, the way he'd fallen seemed to indicate that he was holding his head with his free hand when he died. Now that Vertie was closer, she didn't sense any of the empathic residue that she normally picked up from dead animals and occasionally dead people. The archer was just... hollow and empty.

"I don't think Randa did this. Psi-blasts are usually pushes, overload the brain with emotion and sensations to shut it down. There's usually a scent of the emotion used. There's nothing here."

"I don't think she did it either, but it makes me wonder about the Wanderer."

"If this Wanderer can do this, I suggest major caution in dealing with them." She looked over the bodies. "How do you feel about the three "R's"?"

"Well I never did learn to read," she deadpans.

"Poor, poor jungle princess." Vertie carefully cut along the seams of the clothing. "Recycle, reuse and reduce. You get to carry weapons."

"Fair enough," she says, pulling Miranda's sword out of the ground and securing it on her back.

Vertie moved from body to body, carefully collecting the now unused clothing and belongings while Brigid collected the bows and full quivers. "I am sorry for your lost lifes, I thank you for your gifts." She turned and began to head back to the Seer's Cathedral.