>>42472396
(Cont’d)
The fools don’t even care that the air-train is going in circles, thought Ife, as she toppled another automobile full of humans with the flat of her blade. Some among the train’s escort were staying on the train to repel boarders. At least one Cupid had started firing as soon as dust cloud presaging the vehicles appeared. The Lizardman was of a similar mind regarding delaying combat. Ife had leapt off the train to meet the many and varied automobiles that were approaching the train she escorted. Bursts of magic and shot from both directions filled the air around Ife as she attacked the motorcade, long before it reached the train.
Ife was, by training, a beastslayer. Beasts were large, so engaging the large cars in melee made perfect sense to her. They’re mechanical beasts, reasoned the untechnical Lizardman, incorrectly. The cars stopped moving when she hit them enough times, and none of the screaming humans who ran from the forcibly stalled devices corrected her. Several other mamono had eagerly leapt into the fray, and fleeing humans were being grabbed and restrained around her.
There’s no real point in trying to fight any of the humans, they all run away from me, sulked the young Lizardman, no one will ever want me. Ife chopped the metal proboscis off one of the stranger mechanical beasts and did her level best to cut one its odd feet to pieces. It stopped moving immediately as soon as the weird strip that made up its foot was cut in two. Disappointed, Ife noted that the approaching cars were making an effort to drive around the small car graveyard accumulating around her. The frustrated Lizardman cut the empty husk of a nearby car in twain with a few strokes of her sabre. It exploded into acrid flames.
“YES SISTER SHOW THEM WHO THE SUPERIOR CONVEYANCE IS!!!” yelled a Dragon, mid-flight. Screeching, the Dragon fired a stream of flame at an abandoned car unto red-hotness. Then, she flew upwards in a loop, before slamming into the burning frame — pelvis first. Though not terribly well-versed in the wider world nor actually sure what ‘conveyance’ meant, Ife was pretty sure the Dragon was a weirdo.
“WHO HAS THE BETTER MANA MILEAGE NOW BITCH!” screamed the Dragon, as she humped the flaming wreckage mercilessly. Damn weirdo scaring away the beasts, grumbled the Lizardman internally. Ife considered chasing after the mechanical beasts that had circled around her, the creepy and disturbingly *loud* Dragon looked too…occupied to scare those away. The Ife was more occupied than she realized, as she didn’t see the car fleeing from the air-train until it crashed directly into her.
Having successfully triggered the beacon, Maureo
Sal had little else to do. The Plactic Redoubt, the major human stronghold in the middle of the currently plague-ridden Plactic Basin, was correctly renown as a hive of crime and insanity. It took news then disseminated and distorted it, almost of its own accord. The human volunteer for the medical aid had known how to make the most of the various mamono-supplied bribes and ‘proofs’ of the most attractive payloads. He had spread everything around in less than an hour, and done it well enough to draw little attention to himself. Now the place was churning like an anthill. So he had little to occupy himself with, aside from not getting robbed or murdered. But in PR everyone had to do that, it was that kind of place.
Having picked a decent vantage atop a small building to wait, he noticed the gang of razor-men walking purposefully down a nearby street. They stepped in front of a nearby vagrant, their blades drawn. Maureo sighed, he recognized the vagrant Ulani. The man would have to sell Maureo out, but the human volunteer didn’t mind. It was a shame that the razor-men would probably kill the old beggar. The discussion beneath him, in the street, grew loud. Ulani was gesturing wildly, though not in Maureo’s direction. One of the candy selling children, often pickpockets and cutpurses who were ubiquitous in PR, started whistling a song. Maureo recognized it, from former business with Ulani. The old beggar must have cued one of the children to sing it, to warn Maureo so he could run.
Maureo slumped, he should run before Ulani had to sell him out…but the razor-men were mad. They would kill over nothing and for nothing. Ulani was probably warning Maureo out of spite, aware the razor-men would be as likely to kill him whether he cooperated or not. The sane thing to do would be to run NOW. But volunteering to return to PR was hardly sane was it?, considered Maureo. No one would consider a native of PR, especially an orphaned one like him, to be sane. There had been many other volunteers from PR willing to do this mission. All willing to risk getting lost in the weird spaces, to save the insane homeland they were fleeing only moments before meeting the mamono. A small flare of pride burned inside him.