The warming light of sunrise basked over the group. It stretched over the chalky, rocky landscape bringing light to the cracks. Tumbleweeds bounced over the ground, blowing past several large cacti. The horses began to slow to a grueling pace, sometimes dragging their feet through the trail. A small watering hole rose out of the acrid scenery, matching the brown horizon with it’s own murky color.

Sheridan’s horse was the lead, raising a hand, he slowed his horse down to a stop. Looking back at the group, he said. “Looks like we gained enough ground on them. We can stop over there and get these horses a drink, and some rest.”

No one protested as he began to lead his horse over there, and the group followed along. As the horses began to lap up the water, they relaxed their muscles and everyone slid off their saddles.

“That hurts my ass. Can we steal an extra horse the next time we see one?” Lun said while rubbing his backside vigorously.

Jaqri conducted a massive stretch, letting his lumbering, shaggy frame bend in ways that most humans probably couldn’t.

“Better your ass hurting than being on fire.” The sasquatch responded.

“That’s true, but I’m not used to this life like the group of you are. I wasn’t a criminal technically until now” Lun responded sarcastically.

“Get used to it. Now that we’re all heretics, it’s going to get even worse.” Sheridan retorted.

“I don’t think Jaqri and Oya are heretics. Just us three?” Abel asked.

“Guilty by association.” Jaqri interrupted. “

Lun looked over towards the one missing from their little group discussion. It was Oya. She sat under the shade of a small rock outcropping. He didn’t notice before but her entire face, and any formerly exposed skin were covered by black clothing. If there weren’t glimmers of light reflecting off of the armor, he would have thought it was someone else who suddenly caught up with them and was watching them. He met Abel’s glance, and nodded his head towards her inquisitively.

“What’s her deal?” Lun said.

“What do you mean?” Abel questioned.

“What’s the deal with all of the black clothing and pretending their dead kinda thing?” Lun responded.

Abel looked uncomfortable for a moment with that question, then stepped over to him before getting deep into Lun’s personal space. He leaned in immensely close and spoke. “She’s a Drucharii. You know, the people that survived the blood plague right?”

Luns eyes widened. “Don’t they go mad if they don’t feed? What about her, uh..the big monster thing?”

“The ravening? You mean her hunting weapon? They only bring it out to use it. You should know.. Aren’t you from the capital?” Abel said.

“Official stance of the Empire is that they are illegal. They’re considered degenerates and hunted like dogs. Blasphemers that consort with demonic forces they say.” Lun said dejectedly.

“That makes sense. I guess maybe I thought differently. Should have known better with the Church.” Abel stated.

Lun and Abel sat there in silence for a few more minutes. They neglected to gaze back in Oya’s direction.

“So, what’s your story? The lot of you? Always been criminals?” Lun perked back up and asked.

“Does it matter? We’re all heretics AND criminals now.” Abel said plainly.

“I’m a storyteller. C’mon you gotta give me something. What about the big guy?” Lun responded.

“You could ask him yourself. He doesn’t bite. Sasquatches aren’t like that. Just a misconception. He’s one of the best men I know.” Abel said. “I’ll give you a tidbit. The reason me and Sheridan are here, we’re former Queensguard. We lost the war, and we’re here.”

Lun stared thoughtfully at Abel’s pained last few words before responding. “So you were there when the Queen was executed?”

Abel didn’t respond, and that was a sign for Lun to drop the conversation. Sheridan was patting his horse, and walked over to the group, grunting and grumbling the entire way.

“Alright, we’re going to take the main road up towards Blackwater. Should be some leads there for some work.” Sheridan stated. “You’re welcome to join us, storyteller, as long as you can pull your weight.”

Abel’s mouth opened up to speak, as if he was collecting not only words but courage, and angrily spouted. “Then what happens when the Empire continues to move West? Brings more towns under its boot?” Just going to run forever? Just going to keep robbing people and doing odd jobs until we’re pushed into the Scar? Going to live there with the monsters.”

“Boy, you better shut your mouth. You’re just going to put up and shut up. I’m doing this so we can live. It’s the best way forward. Where is this coming from anyway? Your brief prison stay scares you” Sheridan snapped back.

“Why don’t we try and fight? Someone has to. Why are you giving up? You’re a coward. We could have saved the Queen but instead we ran.” Abel spit out.

In the blink of an eye, Sheridan reeled back a fist, connecting it with Abel’s face in a hard slap. The gauntleted hand caused a large welt to immediately appear on his face. Abel’s face began to well up with tears, and the man turned around to face the other way from everyone. Jaqri didn’t move an inch but his face was empathetic to Abel, looking at him longingly.

“I told you to shut up. We’re here because we are here. There’s nothing that changes that. Thinking about the past will get us killed. We have to live in the moment. Find our momentary peace.” Sheridan said.

The tension hung in the air for a solid minute, which felt like eons to everyone. Abel walked away from the group, heading towards his horse. Beginning to pet its head as a distraction from the paint that he felt. He wondered why Sheridan had gone from a kind, loving father figure to an emotional powder keg. It was probably because they were on the run constantly, now they were heretics in addition to everything else. Abel reflected on everything that had happened, their escape from the capital, struggling to survive on scraps of food, evading the Empire, the founding of the Red Legs gang. Everything. He was just a petulant child, he kept getting in everyone's way. Why was he like this?

Abel’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of grinding metal. Over the dunes on the horizon, pillars of black smoke plumed into the air, filling the air with acrid, polluted smell. The rumbling of a combustion engine followed suit along with hoofbeats. A panicked look filled Abel and Sheridan’s faces.

Lun looked at the two. “What? What is it? Should we go?”

Sheridan answered first. “It’s an Imperial mechanika. They’re feats of engineering and violence. They are studded with power crystals and held together by thick steel plates. All powered by an engine of steam and fire. We need to get going now.”

The rest nodded. Abel ran over to Oya, shaking her awake. She snarled at him and swung openly at the air around him in a fit of anger. Expecting this, he distanced himself back until she collected herself. Lun caught a thick, hammer-like object slithering underneath her clothing for a moment before she got up and began to run to her horse.

The group saddled on their horses quickly. There was no time to even discuss what was going on. Lun looked around, as the only one without a horse. Fear filled his eyes, thinking that he would be left behind in the hurry. From behind him approached Abel on his horse, stopping short next to him, spitting sand up.

“Let’s go, I wasn’t gonna abandon you. Who’s gonna write our book and tell everyone about being famous?” He said hurriedly.

Lun nodded and jumped up on the horse, trying to balance himself as the horse began galloping fast forward. The length of time they spent trying to rouse themselves and escape on horseback allowed the Imperial riders and their mechanical nightmare to approach them closely. A white horse approached the side of Abel’s, on its back was a soldier, exchanging the average Imperial soldier's set of ivory armor for a set of loose grey wool. In his hand was a large saber, thick enough to chop off a man’s head, and he brought it down towards the horse’s head.

Abel jerked the horse to the side, just narrowingly avoiding the massive swing. The rider swung repeatedly which Abel attempted to continue to dodge and avoid with horse riding. A second rider approached to the other side of his horse, boxing him in completely, there was no outriding this now. He turned behind him to Lun, grinning at him.

“Grab the reins. Hope you can ride a horse.” Abel shouted.

Standing up on his stirrups, he began to balance himself. A swing from both riders almost dislodged him from the complicated stunt he was attempting. After a moment, he leaped towards the left enemy rider with force, crashing into him like a brick. They both smacked into the sand, sending a plume of it up violently. Abel reeled back his fist and struck the man’s face, connecting into the jawline. The rider reached for his saber on the ground. Abel responded in kind with his foot attempting to kick it away from him, this allowed the rider to swing with his other hand towards Abel’s face causing a rush of pain to flood into Abel’s face.

The two traded blows in a brutal exchange. They rolled around in the acrid, hot sand throwing it everywhere. Their eyes were full of sand, blinding their sight but not their rage. After what seemed like an eternity of turning their faces into bloody, purple balloons.

Suddenly, Abel felt a sudden, sharp pain in his side and a rush of warm liquid flowing from that area. Looking through sand encrusted, blinded eyes down, he saw there was a stab wound, following from there a bloody saber from the rider. Fear filled his eyes as he fell backwards, the hot sun beating down on him. The rider got up from the prone position and staggered upright. Situating himself on top of Abel, he started to bring down his sword into his skull, to finish the job.

A horse strode by, quite possibly ridden by Jaqri, and there was a flash of a blade and the rider stopped his motion to coup de grace Abel. The riders eyes began cold and dead, devoid of any activity behind them. Their stare fixated on Abel, blood began to pour from the neck area, and a squelching noise followed as the head detached from the body. Blood flowed down the body as it became limp, falling on top of the wounded Abel. Pressure applying to the wound, causing a surge of agony into his body.

The action continued all around Abel despite his state. The clanking of the machinery was extremely close now to the battle, and came into full view of Sheridan and the others. A closer look revealed it’s terrifyingly beautiful black sheen to the armor, accents decorated in a gothic fashion similar to churches. Symbols and scenes of the Saints painted on it, wielding weapons of righteous fury. The war machine was piloted by one person, two soldiers on the side operating stationary guns. A soldier in the back shouted orders, this was the Captain-Inquisitor from before. Sheridan narrowed his eyes and charged forward.

Lun had barely controlled his horse to turn back as it attempted to run away, out of control, and witnessed the affair. Sheridan dodged several blasts of red hot energy projectiles slamming into the desert floor to get closer to it. Jutting out from the bottom of the front four legs of the machine was an emerald green crystal. One of the two gunners reached down, pulling a lever down with a thunk. A radiant glow erupted from the crystal as thick brass tubes connected to it began to hum.

The horse strained under the speeds that Sheridan was putting it in, and the high pitched hum that emanated from the mechanical monstrosity began to take its toll on it. It began to waver. Before that could happen, however, a monstrous pulse of invisible energy shot out from the green crystals, creating a wall of force that slammed into Sheridan and his horse like a derailed train. His horse’s skull immediately fractured, turning in on itself, crumpling like a can, and it threw Sheridan high into the air. His body slammed into the sand, and he could feel a horrible snap in his left leg. Hot sand piled on top of him, into his mouth and eyes.

Shunk. Shunk. The steel blight continued to push forwards the group. Sheridan reeled around in the sand in agonizing pain. Attempting to stand up a few times, he quickly deflated to the ground, unable to put any weight on his broken leg. Abel laid down not too far from him as well, warm blood pouring from his wound pouring onto the searing sand. Jaqri was still engaging the other rider in continuous combat, they were both now dismounted from their horses and exchanged combat with their spears.

Shunk. Shunk. It got closer to Sheridan’s body, threatening to crush it beneath the thick scorpion-like legs. He closed his eyes, waiting for the end. Here in the backwater frontier, being chased down like a wounded dog in the street. Praying that Abel would make it out alive.

“Too hard on the boy, maybe… “ Sheridan said, struggling to speak. The words only came out as a dry rasp.

Through his strained and pained vision, he saw a dazzling display above him before the mechanika stomped him into soup. A massive, crimson mace made of a nauseating mix of flesh, sinew and blood slammed into the side of the mechanika. The left side gunner’s helmet crumpled from the impact along with the entire left side. Steam and eldritch electricity began to erupt from the damaged side. Sheridan followed the crimson mace as it’s chains of flesh connected to Oya. The weapon was attached to her back like it was a part of her very being. Her previous adornments of cloth were mostly discarded, revealing more of her ebony skin. Her face was turned into a deep scowl, showing a row of shark like teeth, and eyes being a solid color of deep, midnight black. This was all marked by a sizzling sound coming off of her body, and the air around her distorted as if something was being cooked.

She howled in a voice that showed both pain and rage, and kneeling down on all fours she began to charge towards the mechanika to wreak more havoc on it. The wounded metallica fiend began to surge with the same power that it unleashed previously against Sheridan, combined with the peppering of shots from the right side gunner’s gun. However, this wasn’t in time and Oya’s weapon of flesh beat against the front of it. A medium sized golden crystal that sat on top of a ceremonial crest there attempted to power on and use it’s power to offer some sort of protection, but it was crushed along with the rest of it. The shattering of the crystals unleashed an explosive force along with the snapping of the various tubes erupted a bizarre, azure electricity into the air.

The driver was vaporized almost immediately. His body turned into a blue hued ash mixing with the sand. The Captain-Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen, either vaporized as well or had the foresight to dive off at the last minute before the explosion. Lun had begun to turn his horse back towards the group along with Jaqri.

Jaqri shouted out. “I’ll tend to Sheridan and Oya, you find Abel.”

Lun nodded and turned the horse towards the area he had left Abel to fight the rider. Secondary explosions from the mechanika burst into the air, causing Lun’s horse to almost shake him off a few times, with him straining to keep control of it. After some time searching through the area, he spotted Abel laying in a pool of blood on the desert floor. Immediately hopping off of the mount, he jogged through the thick sand dunes towards him.

“Where are you hurt?” Lun asked, panicked.

“Side.. stab.. Maybe poison.” Abel responded weakly.

Lun tore off a piece of his clothing and looked at Abel’s side. There was blood oozing out from it in a slow, steady stream. The wound that formed around the hole was beginning to fester already, with a pustulent smell emanating from it and stinking up the air. Jet black veins stretched like spider-webs along his hip, pulsating with every movement that Abel made.

Lun looked at Abel’s face. Youthful vigor was replaced with a pained, fatigued expression. Sweat coated visible skin with a glistening sheen. Abel’s chest rose and fall in an arrhythmic pattern. Lun realized that he needed to do something, at least get the wound treated. Looking around the desert, there were no plants except for the cacti and random bush. No herbs possible in this barren hellscape. He didn’t even have water to wash the wound, so this was the best he could do. He began to wrap the torn clothing around Abel’s midsection, which was immediately stained with blood.

Footsteps in the sand alarmed Lun, who drew his sword in an immediately protective gesture to whomever was approaching them. It was Jaqri, who was carrying Oya on his back, wrapped back up in her clothing and slumped against his back. In his long, tree-trunk like arms was Sheridan. His shattered left leg dangled over like a broken twig.

Lun lowered his sword when he saw this. Abel strained to get up, but after Lun was able to help him and slung his arm around his shoulder, he was able to hold him up but just barely. The gaggle of wounded looked back at the carnage and wreckage behind them, a battle won, but at what cost?

“We’ve most likely stopped our pursuit for the time being, or at least until they realize that they didn’t scry back.” Sheridan coughed out. “Though it looks like we’re in pretty bad shape, so it’s possible we’re not going to get much further. I don’t even know where we are.”

Jaqri nodded and said. “I don’t even think we have a direction. I suppose we just start walking in a direction.”

“I can walk just fine.. Abel said, attempting to stagger off from Lun’s support before almost falling, being caught by Lun.

“No you don’t. Also, I guess I didn’t sign up for nurse duty when I joined you guys, but I guess that’s now my job.” Lun chuckled, but no one seemed to enjoy the dark humor at this time.

“Oya expended herself and burned herself in the process helping us. She brought out her Ravening during the daytime… we’re lucky for her but I’m not sure what the impact was. Let’s just head in a direction like Jaqri said, and hope that we find water or shade.” Sheridan stated.

Abel looked over the landscape with blurry eyes. His hands began to shake with anxiety and panic, unsure of what was to come. Lun pulled him up just a bit, and looked at him for a second.

“Come on bud. Let me tell you a story, it’ll keep you engaged. Let’s get going.“ Lun said softly.