#it’s having a hard time placing yourself in an area w/o a map or using gos

[harringrieve]

I feel so petty, but I’ve fully closed out of fics that have Steve’s dyslexia described as “letters moving/dancing around on the page”and nothing else.

Like VERY few dyslexic people experience that type of visual stress, and when they do it’s not even like what people are describing, which is more closely related to irlens syndrome than dyslexia (related, but not at all the same thing)

I fully didn’t even get diagnosed until WELL into my late 20s bc that’s how I always see it depicted or described in media, and I didn’t have that so OBVIOUSLY I’m not dyslexic. I feel like people just write it like how it was in the first percy Jackson movie or smth, the way they describe it in fics, and it’s really annoying ngl

And I say this as someone w ALL the damn comorbid disabilities and disorders people write this man with as a headcanon (adhd/asd/dyslexia/dysgraphia/ocd tendencies/etc)

[flaine1996]

SSV AIN JALUT

Bit of an update with projrct timeline dtill working on it but havent finished sny of the new WIPs im writing so herree have an old one i slightly revamped :))

------

Garden worlds have always been habitable places, where the ecosphere could support any population.

Yet somehow Anhur managed to feel anything but habitable.

[[More]]

The buildings that had been built had been noticeably new and renovated and yet hardly anyone had seemed to be living in it. Preferring to be living on the streets. From the looks of it though, it hadn’t seemed like they had a choice.

Which is why it had been a strange sight seeing a group of armed soldiers walking down the streets as if they owned the place the day after they landed. After all this was the terminus, soldiers don’t come here. Not by choice anyway.

The tall, bulked up soldier in the front talks to one of the locals. He points to the nearby dense forests where he explains that there is a clearing far off from the eye can see and in response the soldier nods and gives him a small container. The local gladly accepts and runs away from prying eyes, holding the container as if he was carrying gold.

The soldiers charge on passing through the dense forest, going in deeper and deeper.

Boots filled with gravel and sand. Sweat pouring down their faces. Guns held close to their chests. Until they see it. Somewhere in the middle of their misery. They see it. A small building.

One of the soldiers raises his hand and an omni-tool appears, “The scanner is picking up life signs, Commander. How shall we proceed?”

The tall man surveys the area, “Hajjins position yourself 15 feet southeast from here take Alvarez with you, Alvarez I need you to decrypt any information you can get in that building and the rest of you will be ground team. Move out.”

Without a single word the rest of the soldiers filed out with disciplined movement. The ground team had been precise and careful as they reached closer to the building despite the dense trees and rocky terrain. As one of the soldiers moved closer however a turret unsheathed itself from its cover blasting away at the soldier’s leg.

“God damit! Alvarez, did you not see that?!” The commander yells as one of the other soldier drags the injured behind a large tree they were in.

“Was just about to contact you, Sir!” Alvarez hastily replies.

“Fucking asswipe,” says the injured soldier.

“Save you energy, Lee. Trembley slap some omni-gel on that! Hajjins, take it down," The commander ordered, "Any other surprises we should worry about, Alvarez?”

“Hajjins says she’s doing the best she can but as long as you aren’t in range it won’t come out�� and also…”

“Spit it out Alvarez!”

“They’ve managed to scatter IEDs below ground… If you even step on o---”

“I GET IT ALVAREZ! Fuck…. Can you somehow deactivate them?”

“It will take hours to shut them all off, sir… but i can show you where they are located,” as he says that the commanders omni-tools pings and a map of the area with glowing red dots scattered on the battleground in front of them. The dots beeping to specify their location, “That’s not all… There’s still another turret… hiding…”

“FUCK SAKE! Find a way to deactivate them! NOW!” The commander barks and turns to his soldiers, “You’ve heard him for now we have to wait and pray for a fucking miracle”

“You’re telling us to wait,” a soldier with distinct blood red, black striped armor asked.

“Didn’t think you were deaf,” The commander snaps, “If you want to be a moving target then do it, but i am not wasting any good men.”

With that he turned his back on the soldier and checked on Lee.

“Uhm… sir,” Alvarez calls shakily.

“WHAT NOW?”

“Shepard’s mobilizing,” replies Alvarez nervously.

The commander’s head turns immediately to the battleground in front. The blood red, black striped armored soldier charging into the battlefield with only a storm shotgun at hand.

“SHEPARD, GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!" The commander yells.

Shepard doesn't even pay the commander attention, staring at the battlefield ahead. Only having a few minutes to glance and hear the sound of beeping from the commander’s omni tool to decipher a clear path

Feet thuddering the ground at each step.

That’s when the sound of turrets unsheathing from the ground could be heard, Shepard knew that time is of the essence and that less than 10 seconds, it will have found its target. Without even thinking, two grenades are thrown at the first turret while firing shots from a storm shotgun, managing to damage it enough that it blew up. The second one would be more a problem since shepard had been preoccupied with the first. She could hear shots being fired far off from where Hajins position was, attacking the second turret.

Shepard had one trump card though. Biotics.

Feeling the tingling sensation of eezo nodules from the brain and powered by the implants at the back of the skull. Shepard engulfs in a biotic barrier which felt like second nature. Blue light started emanating from Shepard’s whole entire being before a hail of bullets started pouring down. Fortunately enough, the end was close. The door to the building was only 3 feet away however shepards biotic shield as well as the shield from the suit had practically been blown to pieces. One more shot would be fatal.

Shepard leaps, body twisting to face the turret and using the sheer carnage ability from the shotgun sent shepard flying and hitting the entrance door while, simultaneously, blowing up the last turret.

“Shep---,” Alvarez reported.

“I fucking see it, Alvarez. Shepard, deactivate the IE---,” before the commander could finish, Shepard disconnected the comm channels and entered the building.

Once inside, Shepard notices how the whole building seems larger from the inside and sees containers ranging from large to small. Creeping closer to the smaller containers, shepard notices that a small beeping light is attached at its handle, a bomb. One filled with freezing ice in liquid form. Seems like the targets had prepared themselves for a likely event of an outsider. But they hadn’t prepared for Shepard.

Hearing footsteps, Shepard hides behind one of the nearest crates as the distinctive sounds of prattle kept coming closer.

“Those bastards with two eyes have been following us for weeks. We need to end this here,” one of them says.

“Don’t worry, those pests will be blown to sky high the minute they try getting through,” the other happily replies.

Shepard glances from the crate and notices that they are standing just approximately two feet away. Checking the omni-tool, Shepard’s shields and abilities had managed to recharge.

Not wanting to miss this chance, the small container that had been idly standing to the side is thrown violently to one of the speakers breaking and freezing him into place. Before the other one could even speak a word, Shepard grabs hold of its mouth and ramming a fist through his face repeatedly until it falls to the floor. Laying there on the pool of its own blood shepard grabs hold of the omni-tool it wears. Clicking what looks like the map of the area, Shepard commits to memory the layout of the building before the hologram fazes out. Then proceeds to drag both dead bodies behind the crate used for hiding earlier.

Shepard remembers a shortcut to the west and proceeds to move. The layout is pretty simple, after the entrance there would be the main hall connected to half a second floor with stairs.

All Shepard needs to do is reach the stairs. However upon reaching the clearing a group of the targets had been using the main hall as a gathering. Wasting no time, Shepard spots and uses the nearest crate to take cover.

“Have the implants been inserted?” asks one of them.

“Yes with force i might add,” another replies.

“Good. Remind them of the position they are in," another comments.

“What of the alliance soldiers,” another asks irritatedly.

“What of them? they're to stupid to even find us. Anhur has been desolate of batarians since 2170, they will not look here,” another chimes in, “Besides, we're well equip for dead meat.”

Clutching the shotgun, Shepard creeps all the way to the stairs. Fortunately the batarians have been too focused on their discussion to even notice. Reaching the top, two snipers are stationed to guard but decides instead to gather around playing cards.

With one flick of a wrist, Shepard lifts one of the batarian from his seat and slams his head onto the other one. Before both of them could react Shepard grabs both their heads and slams it hard against each other knocking them both out cold. But Shepard didn’t just want to knock them out. Grabbing hold of the first snipers neck, shepard twists his head until a snapping sound could be heard and does the same for the remaining batarian.

“IF YOU TWO DIM WITTED SHMILA, ARE BREAKING SLAVES NECKS, I WILL BREAK YOURS,” one of the batarians threatens menacingly.

No reply came but a small rotating disk shaped object falls from the sky. The batarians take a closer look before they realize what it is.

“BO---” before it could finish, a blinding white light and an explosion rocks the whole clearing.

The batarians are dazed and injured but they hear a loud thud from the table. As they look up a single armored being is standing.

One of the batarians opens its mouth before a loud blast of a shotgun echoes through the halls and before any of the others could raise their weapons, Shepard guns them down with quick precision and accuracy. Leaving only one clutching its head at the ground.

When the carnage was over, Shepard sheathes the shotgun and approaches the last batarian remaining and stepping tightly on his crumpled form speaks, “Where’s Balak?”

“W-Who?” The batarian asks.

Annoyed with its response, Shepard kicks the batarian hard enough that it sends him flying to the nearest wall.

“I’ll keep this simple,” Shepard says while grabbing the batarians head, “If you do not give me the information i want. I will take each one of your eyes and feed them to you.”

The batarian simply laughs, “Puny freak, you alliance soldiers aren’t the type.”

However his smile falters as Shepard's own feral grin grows, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

--------

The remaining soldiers outside finally breach the building. As they scan the area, only the dead could be found.

“Fuck sake, it smells like a varren took a really huge shit,” Trembley comments.

“Keep your wits about you, we don’t know what lurks here,” the commander sternly advises.

Before they could even step forward, a dark figure approaches. Without even hesitating the soldiers point their weapons at it, “FREEZE!”

"Alliance Vanguard Officer Shepard, reporting for duty," Shepard says while emerging from the shadows with a tone similar to an elcor, "sir."

“SHEPARD WERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?” The commander yells.

“In here.” Shepard replies coolly.

Before the Commander could pop a blood vessel, Alvarez steps forward, “What’s that in your hand?”

Without replying, Shepard throws the object at him. As Alvarez catches the object, he notes how hard it is and the fresh blood coating on it. With a shaky voice, “T---this is an arm...”

“As well as the omni-tool. If we preserve the arm we might still get information regarding Balak so i took it. We should also tell the Alliance regarding the slaves too,” Shepard comments before she heads towards the door.

“WE ARE NOT DONE HERE, SHEPARD,” the commander yells as he follows behind her.

Alvarez and Trembley looked back at the hallway and at each other before catching up with the group.

[emotional-support-salad]

i know it’ll have to drown me, before i can breathe easy

for #tyriaslibraryevent.

Week 5 ( August 29 - September 4 ) —  AU / Free

features my character: afritan

moldark @commander-twig, tatule @xurity, oprez @charoban

so, uh, this is long... my bad. incidentally also the first fic for this event that i finished way before the deadline. mainly because i started it back in june. also i'm not done with this au yet, so expect me to put the slow in slow burn some more.

this might be easier to read on ao3

.

Caught in the shadow of the mountain ridge the small specialist team crosses the bridge towards Refugee's Peak, the silhouette of the Priory looming over their backs like a wolfs howling maw. 

Afritan shudders through an exhale, the puff of breath stuttering in the crisp afternoon air. Adjusting the sling of his backpack, he slows down to fall into step with the Vigil crusader he’s been side-eying since they’ve been briefed. Afritan's got a gut feeling the crusader must be the former Nightmare courtier he saw at the Grove a while back, the one Tegwen warned him about with a harried voice and a stern expression on her face; like the looks she gives Carys after she's jumped headfirst into the fray. 

Sometimes Afritan closes his eyes and sees the courtier's silhouette still, a fever dream, like something took root inside his chest ever since. 

His stomach turns oily, and he swallows a wad of spit down when the crusader brings that intense gaze onto him. His sleek breastplate gleams in the firelight of the braziers flanking them left and right.

"Uhm h-hi there," Afritan greets softly, voice barely reaching over the icy wind bouldering through the valley. He keeps his arms tight-pressed to his sides. Trying to refrain from stuttering too badly he continues,"I'm Afritan from the Durmand Priory--" a slight wince, as if the crusader didn't know that already you idiot “--it's nice to meet you…" 

The crusader tips his head back; the ashen-tinged leaf around his throat peeks out from the thick leather collar of his armor. His brows are slightly raised. Afritan rubs the back of his neck self-effacingly at the silence. 

As they step onto the winding hiking trail under the snow-capped mountain peaks, Afritan makes another attempt at conversation: "What's your name… You d-don't have to tell me of course, I was just wondering since we'll be working together on this mission and…" He trails off, looking away when a heavy patch of snow abruptly falls off a pine's thin-needled foliage. 

"I'm Moldark," the crusader says curtly, in a voice much smoother than his imposing figure would suggest. His expression remains stone-faced.

Two longhorn sheep look up from their grazing spot at the side of the road when they pass by. The team's pretty ragtag in composition: a Whispers agent, ten Priory members including himself, two Vigil crusaders and a Vigil marksman. Afritan glances at Moldark from the corner of his eye with the hint of a smile playing on his lips. His profile contrasts starkly with their white surroundings. 

"So," Afritan begins again, idly touching the hilt of his sword with skittish fingers. Hoping he won't stumble over consonants when he asks, "What do you uhm make of the mission?"

Moldark doesn't shrug, doesn't hum. "It's straightforward enough. Us Vigil are only hired muscle to ensure the Priory members' safety." His gaze flicks between the road ahead and Afritan for the briefest of moments before settling back on the jagged horizon. "You look like you could handle yourself in a fight however.'

"I'm m-more of a defensive fighter," Afritan replies, ducking his head away to stave off an involuntary smile; his chest grown tight at the comment. He taps the strap of his backpack, stuffed chock-full with scrolls and maps. "B-besides I'm assigned to the p-position of navigator f-for the underwater exploration."

The crusader doesn't respond outright, only gives Afritan a quick once-over and a sharp nod.

It's easy to tell they're nearing Afgar's Steading by the cherry trees appearing alongside the hiking trail. The silence between them gets scuffed by the sound of heavy footfalls and hooves on hard gravel and the chatter of the pack of Priory explorers in front of them. After they round the bend at the longhouse, the hiking trail straightens, and the frozen ground thaws out. His eyes slide over to the former Nightmare courtier.

Up until he first saw Moldark in the Grove, Afritan was led to believe there was no cure for Nightmare.

Afritan worries the soft bark of his lower lip; his curiosity growing teeth. The questions stack up the back of his tongue. 

Aloud he asks, "Why exactly d-did you join the Vigil?" 

Moldark turns to regard him. It's hard to tell if Afritan's question caught him off guard or not. He mulls over his words, placing a hand on the war axe hanging off his belt. The wedges that run next to his eyes and retreat into his forehead narrow to slits. Afritan wonders what color of glow would peek through in the dark.

"Because the Vigil is frontline support and offense. I can't imagine myself somewhere else," Moldark says eventually. 

Moldark's mouth stretches into a thin line and his fingers briefly clench around the curved handle of the axe. He looks like he's on the cusp of saying something more but what exactly Afritan doesn't know. 

Afritan puts a thorny tendril behind his ear and looks on ahead. They're going downhill now. He has a clear view of Rocklair with its makeshift sentry towers and bonfires; and of Cascade Bridge where a small squadron of Lionguard is stationed to ward off pirates. The firs and cherry trees are free of snow further down the mountains slope. 

"And why did you join the Priory, Afritan?" Moldark asks, the shadow of a smirk touching his lips as Afritan snaps his head around in surprise. "For knowledge or adventure or both?" 

"O-oh, well, uhm. I always wanted to explore the world outside the Grove. I've spent hours looking at maps and self-studying c-cartography. The adventuring is an added bonus, I s-suppose. My mentor's in the Priory too so it was a logical choice." His voice shakes, stumbling over certain sounds. Afritan sheepishly rubs the back of his neck again, heat pricking through at the nape.

Conversations aren't Afritan's forte. His stuttering usually scotches any attempts to reach out to kind-looking strangers, and this hesitation in turn gets mistaken for taciturnity. Moldark doesn't point it out. In fact there's none of the cruelty in his demeanor that you might expect from a Nightmare courtier. 

The weak sunlight catches a rich amber in his eyes, and Afritan blinks owlishly at the sight, something soft welling up his throat. He coughs in his fist and smiles apologetically. 

Moldark tilts his head a little, catlike. Those wedges next to his eyes and into his forehead run thin again, but that shadow of a smile keeps playing along the corner of his mouth. He lazily pats the flat edge of his battleaxe, remarking, “This must suit you best then. Exploration, and adventure.”

“I w-would believe so,” Afritan agrees bashfully, averting his gaze to the ground for a split-second. He bites the inside of his cheek before asking, “B-but what about you? Playing bodyguard isn’t really uhm, frontline work…” 

Afritan doesn’t know whether the Vigil operates on the same basis as the Durmand Priory. He got the option to volunteer for the mission and was then assigned a position within the squad later on. Maybe Moldark simply lucked out. 

This fledgling Pact that their orders pledged themselves to stands on foal legs, but squads already got formed and dispatched to Timberline Falls; to Mount Maelstrom; going as far as the Straits of Devastation, spearheading into Orr. What they’re set out to do seems boring in comparison. Afritan bites the inside of his cheek, holding onto the strap of his backpack and staring at the ground absentmindedly.

"We're protecting you from pirates and scavengers. I'm certain there will be some action at least," Moldark comments, and while his expression remains stoic, the confidence shines through in the cadence of his voice. Afritan wants to soak it all up.  

More questions come bobbing into his head, but it's too early to put them in words. Afritan nods in turn, and they fall into a companionable silence.

.

They pass through Rocklair, pausing only shortly to confer with magister Ghorgon about the general progress of the Priory's expeditions in the area. Aside from pirates, there's the hostile wildlife and the dredge to contend with. Afritan has only fought the latter twice before, both times in the harsh cold of Dredgehaunt Cliffs. 

His gaze slides over to Moldark but he remains undaunted. As if nothing could ever faze him. The type to break you before you could dent them, Afritan muses silently; a tingle running down his spine. 

Lionguard soldiers salute the members of the team at the head of Cascade Bridge, their plate armors reflect golden in the sunlight. Afritan squints a little. He looks past them, at the calm waters of the lake and the rear end of the pirate ship sticking out from Jetsam Isle, casting its shadow over the depths. On the other side of the bridge the rocky terrain makes way for rolling hillsides and stretches of grassland. Further up north the snow-packed grounds of False River Valley are wedged between steep unclimbable mountains. Rock and more rock. 

Their destination is the southernmost point of the lake’s jagged shoreline however, where the underwater complex of dwarven ruins proves most accessible. Afritan points out the bridge connecting Demon’s Maw and Greybeard’s Landing to Moldark.

“It’s the only way to our b-base of operations from the other side of the lake and makes for an ex--, uhm, an excel--” his tongue trips over the word, and Afritan hastily scrapes his throat, trying to mask the slip up. “A-anyway it’s an easy position to defend.”  

Moldark crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head to the side, surveying his surroundings with the same scrutiny a cat would regard its prey. His eyes narrow dangerously. 

“I’m wondering about the range of those turrets. They could become a problem,” he says then, not looking away from the pirate camp; the outlines of those blown-apart and stranded ships blurred by the distance. 

Afritan follows his gaze and mutters softly, "A-ah, I see what y-you mean." 

A hollow thud rings through the open space, and Afritan startles a little, craning his neck to look. Their teammates have started setting up camp. 

He makes a curt sound at the back of his throat and continues with some difficulty, "I-if the barrels of their turrets haven't been replaced o-or, uhm, augmented these past few years, I'd uh wager the range to be two hundred yards at most…" Here, he pauses for a moment, pursing his lips. "The eastern wing of the f-fortress may be just within range."

Before Moldark manages a reply, the Vigil marksman, a sylvari too, rounds them both with a sharkish grin; and there's no other way to describe it: sharp and toothy, full of confidence. He's tall and slim, while the crusader's all bulk. The rock gazelle he keeps as a pet trots behind, its hooves quiet in the tall grass.  

"Warmaster wants to talk shop. Better wrap things up here," he says to Moldark.

Afritan wrings his hands when the marksman pushes down his sunglasses--revealing deep red eyes that could unsettle any opponent, and bears that grin down on him. The supple leather of his gauntlets squeaks softly from how hard he's rubbing them together. 

"You might wanna go check in with that scary Charr lady, 'cause she looks like she's gonna eat her own tail. I'm Tatule by the way. Vigil, but you know that."

His voice breaks around the first two syllables of his own name, and Afritan sighs dejectedly before trying again, "I'm Afritan, I'm the navigator on this e-expedition. It's uh nice to meet you." 

Tatule tips two fingertips to his forehead in a quick salute. The scenery reflects distorted on his sunglasses, blurs of black. He gives one high-pitched whistle to draw his pet's attention and walks off. 

Afritan glances back at Moldark, scrambling for something to say, anything that isn't redundant or lame. 

"I suspect you will join us on our first dive to secure the perimeters," Moldark begins matter-of-factly. "Rest up in the meantime. I imagine the dwarven fortress to be very big, or what's left of it anyway." The sentence gets capped off with a handsome lopsided smile that makes Afritan's chest all tangled up tight. 

Moldark leaves Afritan to his thoughts and heads over to the Asuran warmaster. His figure's all angles and pins against the soft green. Afritan inhales sharply and looks off to where magister Mercutia Spectremaw and the other Priory members are setting up the tents and assembling their gear. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks below seems to come from faraway. Another sigh and Afritan grabs onto the straps of his backpack, setting out to help his teammates.

Magister Spectremaw--terrifyingly big with sleek spotted fur and paws the size of shovels-- chews him out the second he checks in. Stop dawdling thornbush and get to it.

.

While Afritan's unrolling his sleeping bag on the uneven underground--and he'll wake up with a crick in his back, he's sure of it-- the Whispers agent saunters into the tent on light feet. Afritan only knows someone's behind him because another shadow falls over his hands. Intentional, no doubt. 

"Hello there," the agent greets pleasantly. "I was told by magister Spectremaw to visit you for all sorts of topographical matters." 

Afritan uneasily settles back on his haunches and angles his head to regard the Whispers agent: another sylvari, lanky with a runner's build, the brim of his mushroom casting a shadow to his chin. The metal embellishments on his black and red-dyed armor glimmer in the dim. 

"Uh, w-well, I suppose so…" Afritan mutters unsurely, slowly standing at full height. A barbed coil slips in front of his eyes, and he clicks his tongue, annoyed. 

The Whispers agent hums lightly, rocking on the tips of his toes in place. "I was thinking of undertaking a reconnaissance mission on my own to get a better understanding of the enemy. Oh, and if they stock stolen artifacts on base or not. But to do so, I need a keen understanding of the area--and I'm going too fast, aren't I?" He asks suddenly, blinking bright blue eyes. 

Nodding bashfully, Afritan replies, "J-just a little bit, yes."

"All I require are a few maps of the area and some of your expertise," the Whispers agent explains, a reassuring undertone to his voice. He folds his hands behind his back and rises on the tips of his toes briefly.

"I t-think I might be able to help," Afritan says while reaching for his backpack. 

Most of the maps he carries around are charts on the lake and layouts of the dwarven fortress in its prime, but he does have a couple on Lornar's Pass and Demon's Maw in particular. 

They settle down cross-legged on the ground with the maps spread out on Afritan's bedroll. Musty air wafts up from the parchment. Afritan learns the Whispers agent's name a good five minutes into their discussion about the terrain. Where are my manners? I'm Oprez, pleased to make your acquaintance. The introduction's treated as a formality however, in the face of preparations for his self-imposed mission. 

Oprez gracefully rises to his feet. His mushroom cap sheds a ring of shadow over Afritan's toes, neatly sliced through by the pale sunlight pooling inside through the gap of the tent flap. He nods to himself once or twice; pleased. 

"Thank you for your assistance in this matter. You were most helpful," Oprez says with a polite smile, then picks up his staff and hooks it to the back straps on his armor. There's no showing off, but the fluid movement alone implies skill. 

His bright blue eyes remain unblinking when someone suddenly pulls the flap of the tent aside. Afritan looks over his shoulder. Magister Spectremaw fills up the empty space with her hulking form; the sunlight chisels the silhouette of her broad shoulders and curving horns against the dark underground. Oprez nods at Afritan and walks on over, threading softly out of habit. 

"Did you get what you came for, agent?" Mercutia asks, shoving the flap open wider; pale sunlight comes flooding in like an oil spill. 

Oprez pauses at her side, and despite his own height he only reaches to her shoulders. He responds politely, "Yes, our navigator here was so very kind for lending me some of his time and patience."

"Then I wish you success on your mission," she says, sounding as if someone tried to shank her in the throat but failed by a couple of inches. What you call a guttural voice.

"As I on yours. I'll try to have returned by nightfall, magister, but I can't make any promises, I'm sure you understand. Now if you would excuse me…" Oprez dips his head and slips past her, the coattails of his chest piece bellowing in motion. 

Mercutia remains standing at the tent opening and wrinkles her maw. She speaks up after a beat, "The Vigil needs you outside for first dive, thornbush."

His eyes grow wide, and he scrambles on all fours. Watching how Afritan gathers his charts and maps and manuscripts, neatly folding them and tucking them back into his backpack, Mercutia wags her tail from side to side. Low over the underground. Her muzzle curls into an amused grin when he almost trips over himself in excitement to get his aquabreather. 

"That's a proper attitude," she rumbles when he's fully equipped and claps him on the back with her paw, hard. Afritan titters forwards from impact, smiling sheepishly. It's hard not to feel giddy, for some reason.

.

They're waiting for him at the edge of the rocky shoreline. Moldark's overlooking the dark waters with arms crossed while Tatule's propped up against a boulder, one knee bent, restocking his quiver with harpoons for the dive. His rock gazelle is nowhere to be found. The Asura warmaster's cleaning the barrel of her harpoon gun with a rag. Afritan's throat closes up when Moldark throws a glance over his shoulder at him. He swallows curtly, but it doesn't help much. 

Afritan spots three skale corpses in the tall grass; rich red blood drying on their skewered hides. The air gets cooler the closer he gets to the lake. 

Even if Moldark's the first one to acknowledge him, it's Tatule who speaks up, saying, "You're here. Great. Let's get this show on the road then." He looks towards his warmaster and continues, "Whenever you are, ma'am."

She stands upright, at attention, and sheathes the weapon at her back. The wind runs through her shock of red hair, pushing her long droopy ears past her massive shoulderguards. 

"Very well. I am warmaster Narru and I will be your commanding officer during this short expedition. Our objective is securing the perimeters of the dwarven complex. Magister Spectremaw already gave me a report on your skills, explorer. Be warned that I will burk no disobedience in my squad and I will tolerate no liable actions during the mission. Have I made myself clear?" She lifts her head, peering up at Afritan with electric green eyes.

Afritan's gaze flicks from Moldark to Narru, and he nods like a child chastised; eager, eyes downcast.

Warmaster Narru attaches the aquabreather to her mouth and goes into the water, beckoning the rest of them to follow. Tatule gets up, dusts off his leather leggings with a few broad swats. 

He claps a hand to Afritan's shoulder and leans in close with a wide grin. "Don't worry about the shark, okay?" 

"S-shark? B-but sharks aren't native to these waters," Afritan points out, staring confusedly at Tatule. 

Moldark saunters past and searches for Afritan's gaze from over his shoulder, then shakes his head a little. There's a glimmer of a smile playing along the curve of his lips; something rare. Afritan furrows his brow. 

"One of his pets," Moldark explains matter-of-factly. 

Afritan murmurs an inaudible oh in response. 

"At least your reaction was cuter than Moldark's when I first sprung Jaws on him," Tatule says, patting Afritan on the shoulder once or twice; his grin like a serrated blade across his face. 

The wind starts to pick up, rustling the tall grass that reaches past their calves. Patches of uneven ground that turn into rock cradling water. Moldark rolls his eyes and slides the aquabreather over his nose, adjusts the oxygen mask over his mouth, trails after his warmaster in purposeful strides. The steel of his spear shines a searing white in the afternoon sunlight. Tatule whistles loudly, a sharp shrill sound, and wades into the water, unhurriedly putting on his aquabreather as a shark’s fin rises above the waves further off. Afritan takes a deep breath and follows their example. 

Submerged his vision grows hazy, and the cold comes like an all-encompassing shock to his system. It takes a moment to get accustomed to the temperature, the weightlessness. To the sound of the overflow.

They dive deeper, pieces of flotsam and strands of algae floating past, until warmaster Narru abruptly stops and raises a fist. She gestures downwards with quick, jerky movements. They cautiously observe a pack of krait treasure hunters, jealously guarding their cache at the bottom of the lake. Warmaster Narru stretches her arm sideways, and everyone lines up abreast, weapons drawn. Afritan anticipates the signal to attack, holding onto his spear a little tighter, the rush of adrenalin soaking up his belly. 

Tatule’s shark circles overhead, filtering out the sunlight, its shadowy form moving over the underground. 

Warmaster Narru cocks her speargun, takes aim. She fires, and the harpoon rips through a krait hunter’s shoulder. Blood spurts from the wound in slow motion. Moldark seizes the opportunity, propels himself forwards with a powerful kick. The krait dart up to intercept him. Afritan doesn’t hesitate and summons a bright blinding mist.

Everything blurs together after: harpoons whizzing past their ears, more blood, the dull ache of a metal bar hard against his abdomen. Afritan sucks in a deep breath, blocks an incoming attack with the handle of his spear. 

Tatule’s shark charges the hunter fighting him, tearing into the krait’s snake-like torso with rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth. Earning her name twice over. 

Shreds of saggy skin float up. Afritan jabs his weapon through the krait's throat. Angled up, so the sharp spearhead sticks out the back of the krait's well-worn leather mask. Its eyes blown wide open in shock. The krait hunter goes limp between the shark’s tight-locked jaws. One vicious yank; and blood sluices from the krait's neck, gushing all around them. 

Afritan whips around, spots Moldark fighting off the leader of the pack. 

Wisps of green lake weed wave around them from the force of their blows, and Moldark's relentless, some kind of fierce you only see in a wildcat cornered, dishing out as hard as he gets. He's all power and skill, his glow seeping through the cracks in his bark-like skin like a rescue flare; a bright red. Afritan uses his magic on instinct when the veteran krait hunter tries to get a hit in, shoves down whatever wells up his throat with a curt click of the jaw. 

Aegis blocks off the krait hunter's makeshift spear. Moldark's eyes shift over to Afritan for a split second, an acknowledgement. 

The magical shield breaks apart, and Moldark continues his offense with a frenzy of strikes. The krait's pushed to the defensive. Especially when a harpoon slices the side of its thick-corded neck open. Moldark plunges his spear straight into the krait's scaly belly. And twists. The krait hunter struggles, death throes, eyes bulging, tail wiggling; its stomach sucked in. 

Breath rushed through two slits of nose, a garble of bubbles speeding towards the surface. Then, nothing. 

In contrast, there's Moldark, jacked up on adrenalin, punctuated by the rapid rise and fall of his chest, and Afritan finds himself unable to look away. The type to break you before you could dent them. His words come echoing back. Moldark's red glow seems to spread throughout the water. Much brighter than Afritan's own peach-colored one. Afritan draws his shoulders up, holding onto his spear tightly. Tatule's shark swims past him to her master. 

They regroup around warmaster Narru. The krait corpses remain suspended at the bottom, arms slack, heads bowed, surrounding the splendid chest they set out to defend, a prayer circle.

Afritan gets instructed to lead the way. 

.

It takes a few hours to mark and secure the perimeters of the excavation site. There's debris everywhere. The sprawl of ruin tapers off in chunks of rock, spread across the underground as far as the steady shadow of the beached pirate ship. Low visibility only complicates the task. 

When they return to shore, stupid-tired, the expedition members have already started dinner. 

They trod over to the modest camphouse the Priory explorers set up in their absence, dripping water the whole way there. People are gathered around the flap of the tent, eating and talking. The smell of stew hangs in the air. Warmaster Narru shoves a wooden bowl into Afritan's hands and heads off with Tatule in tow, eager to get her fill. Afritan stays behind for a moment, enjoying the dying warmth of the evening sun pinned low between the mountains. 

He’s not alone; Moldark doesn’t seem to be in a hurry either. 

They regard the lake, a blazing red under the orange sky, catching their breath, letting the water dry on their skin. Moldark’s the first to move away.

Iron-cast pots are positioned over poked-apart embers with two cooks tending them. Steam wafts up towards the ceiling of the tent. One of the cooks is a young sylvari whom Afritan occasionally talked to after lectures. Her eyes always smiled so kindly on him. She looks up at their heavy footfalls. 

The ladle falls from her hand, clattering against the pot. Those kind eyes of hers bulging like a startled cat's. 

Afritan furrows his brow and follows the direction of her gaze. 

She’s looking at Moldark. 

And Moldark stares straight ahead, statuesque, purposely ignoring the shocked expression on her face, the way she draws into herself, small and unthreatening like a mouse. But the breath he draws is deep, uncomfortable. It’s suddenly too tense inside, too cramped. The young sylvari hastily averts her gaze and grabbles to scoop the ladle out of the stew without burning her fingertips. 

Afritan slowly reaches out to take Moldark’s wooden bowl. With a gentle smile he offers a way out. “W-would you like to eat with me? In my t-tent? I, uhm, I’m n-not that fond of crowds. And, ah, don’t you t-think it’s a b-bit crowded outside?”

“Yes, that’s…” Moldark pauses briefly, halfway turning towards the exit. His hawkish gaze lingers over Afritan’s face. “Thank you for the offer. I believe your tent was the one furthest away from shore, right?”

"R-right," Afritan affirms softly. "I'll be right t-there."

Moldark nods curtly and marches off in even strides. Not too fast, not too slow; restrained. Once he's disappeared behind the rough-hewn tent sail, the young sylvari shyly pokes her head up, a little frazzled, a little flustered still. A faint blue dots the pudgy skin on her brow, a bluegill blue. 

"I'm sorry," she says, voice sounding pale. "It's just that, well, he looked so much like a, like a nightmare courtier, and oh thorns I just…" Her sentence trails off unfinished, an embarrassed look on her face.

Afritan smiles in understanding. "B-but he's not," he points out, omitting the anymore. "He is p-part of our squad, and we should treat him without preju… prejud--" his admonishment splinters at the word, and he dips his chin, staring obstinately at the dark ground. 

It's stupid how he can't string the right syllables together. Stupid stupid stupid. 

"No, no, you're right," the young sylvari argues, clutching the ladle tight with both hands. "Come on, let me serve you some stew."

He couldn't have been inside the tent for longer than ten minutes, but the air's grown misty when he gets out, and he's sure heavy fog will come rolling over the lake bank by morning. Flecks of ember eddy in the wind. Afritan retreats from the crowd of expedition members at the camphouse, concentrating on not spilling stew everywhere while he's walking. He spots the Whispers agent and magister Spectremaw conspiring at the entrance of her tent. 

Without sparing them much thought, Afritan rounds his own tent and nudges the flap away with his elbow. 

Moldark waits in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest, standoffish. The light can't touch him there, and his glow runs through black bark like a fire kindled in dead wood. Something unfurls in Afritan's chest at the sight. The corners of Afritan's mouth twitch into a smile, and he raises a bowl; thin wisps of steam blurring from the movement. He nods to his sleeping roll. Sit, sit. 

They settle down side by side, knees bent and feet flat on the hard dirt underground. With the smell of good food wafting in his nostrils Afritan realizes how famished he is. 

Conversation's sparse, in between spoonfuls. They don't talk about what transpired a few moments ago in the camphouse, or about homesickness for the Grove and surrounding Caledon. Moldark lives in Hoelbrak anyway. It's something that came up when discussing the climate and peaked Afritan's interest. He could guess why Moldark moved away; he'd seen the reason just moments ago after all.  

The wooden bowls are emptied and discarded at their feet, and they share a waterskin. 

But why to Hoelbrak?

Afritan glances at Moldark from the corner of his eyes, and his hands are two jittery things in his lap. The leather lining inside his gauntlets itches. Moldark puzzles him; it feels like every tidbit of information he learns and catalogues only prompts him to discover more. Afritan scrapes his throat, curiosity winning over. 

"I d-don't mean to pry, b-but w-why did you choose Hoelbrak? Isn't it cold year round?" 

Moldark shrugs and unclasps the leather straps of his Vigil gauntlets, revealing a jagged layer of bark over his skin, dark and grizzly like an old pine's. Afritan ignores the urge to take off his own gauntlets and touch the tips of his fingers to Moldark's wrist. How long has he lived in Hoelbrak for his body to adapt--to change-- like this?

"I like it there," Moldark answers matter-of-factly. He clenches his hand in a fist, unclenches, flexes his fingers. "The Norn have a way of living I can relate to and." His eyes search out Afritan's. "They don't judge."

The implication rings loud and clear: They don't know my past. Afritan flusters a little and presses his palms together.  

A hush falls over them. Moldark calmly puts his gauntlet back on, buckles the straps one-handedly and tugs on the leather of the glove around the heel of his palm. Then, he stands up. Afritan watches him collect the wooden bowls. The words he wants to say melt away on the tip of his tongue: I won't judge either, I just want to get to know you. 

"Thank you for this evening. I'm sure you'd like to turn in for the night and I will not keep you any longer," Moldark says with a sense of finality; the contours of his mouth emphasized by dots of red glow. 

Afritan worries his lower lip, a lifetime of insecurities pressing down on his shoulders, and he fakes a smile, tries to keep his voice light and airy when he bids him goodnight. His throat feels closed off, tight.

Before Moldark leaves, Afritan calls out, "You're always welcome t-to eat y-your dinner h-here with me. If y-you want."

Moldark's hemmed into the tent opening by the moonlight. His mouth's slanted into a handsome smile that seems so wholly involuntary, genuine. He nods, turns away, shedding his angular silhouette on the ground, and leaves. 

The flap of the tent makes a soft sound as it slides shut behind him. Afritan is alone with his thoughts. 

Heavy-limbed he clambers upright and begins to undress. It's pitch dark inside his tent now. There's no sound aside from a lonesome owl, the wind whistling through the tall grass. Afritan places the staff he’s been practicing with the past few months next to his sleeping roll as a precaution and curls up under the padded blanket. 

He falls prey to a fitful sleep the second his head hits the pillow, dreaming of leonine eyes flashing in the dark, of strong hands dragging down the expanse of his body.

.

The expedition trundles on for the next couple of days: they dive, excavate, bring artifacts to the shore, reconstruct and refabricate. 

'A treasure trove for anthropologists' the magister calls the ruins. Not that she'd taken much stock of what they found. She spends most time in her tent. Something Afritan finds unusual given her work ethic. But she's right: countless theses about dwarven life could be written from what they've dug up alone. Most of it simple pottery and household items, the lonesome weapon; chipped away and eroded. 

It also lays bare one of steward Gixx' fears however: whatever in the fortress that could've been helpful against the dragons might have long since been looted. 

Afritan grows bored after the first three real dives; his position as navigator loses relevance once the excavation sites are propped up with markers and tapes. It's not like the waters are that tricky either. 

Instead he joins the Vigil on their rounds or takes guard or offers to help with the cooking and cleaning. Afritan talks to Moldark often in their downtime, likes to think they've become friends. The Vigil crusader must be bored too; the only security his squad has to offer is against ridgeback skales and river drakes after all. 

Across the lake the pirates at Greybeard's Landing remain ominously quiet. 

.

On the fifth night the roar of the cannons booms over the waters. Afritan's eyes shoot open, and he scrambles upright in his sleeping roll, feels around for his staff. Whatever grogginess he should feel dissipates when his fingers bump against the weapon. The tumult outside exacerbates the uneasiness in his stomach. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. He slips on his boots and throws the flap of his tent open. The wind's throwing cold, cruel jabs; the hemline of his shirt bunches up around the ridges of his hips. 

At the other side of the bridge, flashes of gunfire and grenades slash through the dark.  

“Tatule, round up the expedition members and do a headcount. I want everyone accounted for! Check back in as soon as you can! Moldark, with me!” 

Afritan hears warmaster Narru yell and snaps his head in the direction he thinks her voice came from: magister Spectremaw’s tent. 

If they’re gunning for a fight Afritan’s determined to help; he clutches his staff tighter and runs over. His eyes well up with tears from the wind. Magister Spectremaw stands at full height, looking around annoyed, as if the imminent attack was nothing more than an unwelcome diversion. Her tail sweeps low over the grass. The Whispers agent's there too, taking to the shadows.

“I didn’t expect those Covington pirates to take notice of the tablet’s disappearance this quickly,” Oprez says sheepishly, his tone of voice belying a confession--but it sounds awfully deliberate, played at.

If Afritan were to guess, he'd wager the Whispers agent didn't agree to holding out on the rest of the team.

“Tablet? What tablet? What's the Whispers agent talking about, magister?!” Warmaster Narru demands, whipping around to point an accusing finger at magister Spectremaw. Her long ears perked like a guard dog's. 

Afritan tries to quell the uneasy feeling pooling down his belly. The sound of a loud splash washes up the shore; a cannonball, sinking.

Magister Spectremaw flicks a paw at the warmaster and mutters irritably, “A firsthand account of how the dwarves forged the Sanguinary Blade, warmaster. That’s what Oprez is talking about.

A firsthand account? Afritan blinks slowly, taking in the newfound information. Such an artifact, if true, if real, would be invaluable. 

Warmaster Narru narrows her eyes into slivers and asks in a stone cold voice, "And just how long have you been keeping this from us, magister?"

"I wasn't keeping anything from anyone. I had to verify the tablet's authenticity first…" Magister Spectremaw growls low then, a dangerous sound, and snaps, "We should focus on the task at hand! We can point claws later."

Her tail wags from side to side, agitated; the sleek fur fluffing up. 

Afritan watches the gesture warily; he'd forgotten about the magister's Ash Legion days. Moldark too, seems on edge.

Oprez steps out into the moonlight and holds up his hands in a pacifying gesture; his glow a mellow blue in the moonlight. 

He addresses warmaster Narru directly, "My apologies for all this secrecy. I'm aware this warrants my order no credit, but I hope you understand safekeeping the tablet should be our first priority. We cannot under any circumstances let that drunken rabble succeed and... and barter the tablet away."

"Fine! We'll take point at the bridge. Those two Lionguard at the other side won't hold them off for much longer," Warmaster Narru acquiesces tiredly, giving a dismissive wave. Her eyes slide over to Magister Spectremaw, distrustful. "Will you be joining us, magister?"

Magister Spectremaw bristles and draws her daggers; her muzzle contorted in a snarl, baring her teeth. The gesture speaks volumes.

"I believe we're all set then," Oprez remarks wryly before unhooking the bo staff from his back and glancing between his uneasy allies. 

They hurry onwards, joined by Tatule who was looking for Afritan to complete his headcount. His rock gazelle nips at their heels, bucking excitedly in the tall grass. The pirates are storming the bridge; the stampede of their heavy footfalls echo through the night like gunfire. 

Slashes of silver moonlight slide off their fast-paced forms. 

Afritan skids to a halt over the gravel and summons a repulsion glyph at the bridgehead to secure the choke point. Some pirates bound headfirst into the magic barrier. They get flung back, tumbling into the tide of their crew. Moldark takes the initiative and pounces. He takes to the dark seamlessly. Oprez pole vaults into the rabble next and body-slams a burly charr pirate. 

From then on it's pure chaos: screams, curses, gunshots, energy crackling through the air, a volley of arrows,…

Tatule's rock gazelle kicks another pirate over the stone railing. A few pirates willingly plunge into the water, try swimming to shore. Tatule holds them off. One swashbuckler, a Norn with bright red tattoos across the lower half of her face, takes four arrows to the chest before she falls to her knees. Gasping, grasping at the arrows. 

Magister Spectremaw slits her a smile. Finishes her off with the practised flick of a knife. A spurt of blood on the wet rocks. 

Warmaster Narru tries to coordinate the battle, but noises of all frequencies funnel into the ears, a mash of static, adrenalin. Underscored by the lone cannonshot. Afritan focuses on supportive magic, summons sigils that heal and boost speed. Maybe he should've grabbed his sword instead, could've gotten in on some action.

His gaze singles out Moldark, blurred in the crowd. 

Moldark moves with the economy and purpose of an alpine stalker. It's exhilarating to witness. He slams an elbow into a pirate's face, whips around. The blade of his axe bites into a shoulder, a collarbone. Afritan squints to see even better, clutches his staff when Moldark parries a cutlass, pushes the barrel of a pistol out of his way. 

At one point the turrets stop firing, and the pirate crew breaks apart, disperses.

Don't let up now, the warmaster screams over the battlefield. Keep pushing!

They manage to chase off the remaining pirates, and a hush falls over the lake. The morning sun rises between the mountains and casts a bloody glow over the rocky shoreline, over the waves. Tatule fondly pets his rock gazelle, then crouches over the Norn pirates corpse, yanks the arrows out while whistling. Magister Spectremaw and warmaster Narru confer at the bridgehead with Oprez mediating between the two. 

Afritan can hear snippets of their quarrel. Accusations, mostly.

From where he's standing, a rocky ledge jutting out above the shoreline, he has a clear view on Moldark rinsing his battle axes clean of blood. He's covered with the stuff. Viscera too, splattered across his chestplate. The sunlight burnishes Moldark's gauntleted hands golden. 

"A-are you hurt?" Afritan calls out to him, needlessly making his presence known. 

Angling his head to look up at him from over his shoulder, Moldark replies calmly, "No, I'm not. What about you?"

Afritan shakes his head. Some thorned tendrils slip loose from his ear and slide over his face. Annoyed, he fusses over them.

"I told you, didn't I?" Moldark says, unprompted, and pushes himself up, hooks his axes back to the iron hinges on his belt. There's that lopsided smile again. At Afritan's confused expression, Moldark continues, "On the day we started. I told you that there would be some action. I was right." 

And Moldark even looks tentatively pleased when he says this. Crowned by the pink morning sky. The black color of the thin barbs on his head mellowed out in the light. Afritan's chest grows tight, so very tight. 

But this doesn't feel good. 

Words stammer to a standstill down his throat. Afritan's eyes widen, and suddenly he can't breathe, his windpipe's clogged up with something soft, and then he's choking. His face flushes a bruised yellow. Moldark scurries up the slippery rocks in alarm, but Afritan forcefully shakes his head, makes a gesture with his hand that either means stay back or it's okay. 

Raw sounds turn into nasty coughs. He's outright dry-heaving now. 

Until that something sticks to the back of his tongue, and he scrapes his teeth over it, spits it into his hand. Afritan catches his breath, shudders through an exhale. 

"O-oh thorns," he exclaims, dazed. Uncaring that Tatule, Oprez and the others come running, that Moldark hovers around him, antsy, out of his element.

There are flower petals in the palm of his hand. Wet from spit, frumpled, white, sad-looking. He hurriedly clenches his hand into a fist, hiding away the evidence. Afritan's eyes slide over to Moldark, and he looks at him like it's the first time, like back in the Grove, seeing him in a wholly different light.

Soulmate.

. 

[inspirationsandlove-blog]

So if you guys didn’t already know I am still new to the Fort Collins area. I moved here in the middle of February this year, and that’s not the best time to go exploring with out the proper gear. I also got a pretty time-consuming job in the early spring. So I haven’t gotten the chance to check out the surrounding hiking as much as I would like. But I have managed to squeeze in a few here and there, and the few I did go on I learned quite a bit from. Coming from the high tundra-esk climate of Estes Park, CO to Fort Collins (although they are only an hour drive apart) has shown me a lot of WHERE you hike depicts HOW you hike. Heres Some of the tips and tricks I have learned in these adventures.

The first thing I learned, and I can never stress this enough, is know your terrain. Where are you hiking to? How hot is it going to be that day and is your trail going to have shade on it? Are you encountering any water? How much elevation are you gaining? How many miles are you going one way/round trip? What is the best route for you to take? Don’t get me wrong, part of the adventure is to just go and see where the trail takes you. But at the same time you don’t want to make yourself miserable or put yourself in danger when it could have been easily avoided by just looking at a map or reading a quick trail summary. By getting a feel for what you’re in for, you also get a better idea on what to take with you. Fort Collins area is a great place to encounter all sorts of terrain. I discovered the hard way a few times that what worked really well on one adventure, didn’t quite work out on the next one.

Fort Collins, CO

The best example I can use for this is foot wear. Fort Collins is at the base of the Rocky Mountains, and when I say rocky mountains I mean big freaking boulders and stone faces. But there are also a ton of beautiful lakes, ponds, and streams in and around the area. So are you going to need some sandals that can handle water and not get destroyed? Or is it time to break out the hiking boots so you don’t mangle your peds and get to romp around like a wild thing? Another thing to think about is how hot it is going to be that day and what socks (if any) you are going to choose. I always, always, always go for wool of some form. Having backpacker parents I learned early that cotton, particularly on your feet, is a quick way to have a bad day. Now you may be thinking wool is a cold weather sock, nope. There are all kinds of thicknesses of wool socks and different breathability’s now! Wool is one of the best moisture wicking fabrics out there believe it or not. True we have all of these new high-tech fabrics now that are designed to get rid of stick and ick, but for me personally some of the classics can’t be beat.

Horse Tooth Rock Fort Collins, CO Hiking Horse Tooth Trail to Horse Tooth Rock

Lily Lake Rocky Mountain National Park, Estes Park, CO

I also discovered when summer rolls around, Fort Collins goes from pretty cold to really hot very quickly. So its early mornings if you want to get out to any distant destinations and not fry yourself. But no matter when you leave (unless your crazy and like to start at 2 in the morning and be done by 8 AM) you’re going to encounter some sun and heat. So what do we do to make ourselves a little less miserable under the hot rays? Find some shade! Best feeling in the world is collapsing under a tree or a rocky ledge to get out of the sun for a few minutes. So pick a hike where you know you’ve got some cover. But if that’s not an option, learn how to bring shade with you. Sun hats, as goofy as some of them may look, are totally worth it when its mid day and your blasting past people who look like they’re from a desert scene in the movies with their shirts wrapped around their heads for some kind of coverage. Keeping your head cool will cool down your whole body and make everything a little more enjoyable. I even go as far as to dunk my hat, and head in water if it’s available to keep myself cool.

The other part of dealing with the sun is keeping your skin safe from burning. Being a white girl I have had my fair share of sun burns. Some of them bad enough I was almost hospitalized! I’ve always wanted to have a nice tan, but going about it totally bare skinned did more harm then it was worth most of the time. Sunscreen has become an essential part of my hiking gear, no matter the weather or time of year. I’ve especially taken to the easier spray on variety of sunscreen, however some people are against the chemicals that can be found in some sunscreens. If this is the case a few of my hiking friends have recommended to me the use of organic sunscreens and/or light weight sun protective clothing. Like I mentioned earlier there have been many new improvements on fabrics and their properties specifically for being outdoors.

Probably one of the most difficult challenges I’m learning to hike with is humidity. Unfortunately I’m still not quite used to this one yet. So far the only tips I’ve been able to figure out are to pick a trail where humidity isn’t going to be such a taxing factor, like the higher altitude hikes (although these present their own challenges), or trails with more shade and better chance for a light breeze. Linking back to why I love sun screen so much is because on humid days, clothes get sweaty and sticky. Personally, I can’t stand that feeling. So for me the less clothes or lighter clothes I have to wear, the better! Also like I mentioned earlier, keeping your head cool and covered helps a great deal with how your body copes with the environment, humidity included! Humidity isn’t visible, but it can be just a dangerous as the sun rays, where is all your sweat coming from? Whatever liquids you have in your body. Dehydration can be caused from sweating too much, and believe me, that is not a good time. Dehydration can cause all kinds of serious issues, from sun and heat stroke, to your body completely shutting down. My all time favorite piece of hiking gear that I use every single day is my water bottles, always full and ready to go! And with so many fun colors, styles, and ways to customize them how can you resist having an awesome collection! Make sure you are always sipping on some kind of hydration when you are out on the trail. Gatorade and other sports drinks are great (I prefer them after a hike to restock on electrolytes), along with fun drink mixes to keep things interesting, but nothing works quite like good old H₂O to keep your system running at peak performance!

The Hiking Hut, Estes Park, CO

Lumpy Ridge, Estes Park, CO Bouldering in Lumpy Ridge

So far so good on my hikes here in the Fort Collins area, I’ve had a great time exploring all of the great trails there are and can’t wait to check out more! Did I leave anything out? Do you have something to add? Do you have something you would like to see on my blog? Please let me know in a comment! I would love nothing more than to hear from my fellow explorers!

Hiking in Fort Collins, CO So if you guys didn't already know I am still new to the Fort Collins area. I moved here in the middle of February this year, and that's not the best time to go exploring with out the proper gear.

[ladykailolu]

I have the perfect trial for Amami!

I just thought of this! And by “just thought of,” I mean I just experienced it first hand while playing Breath of the Wild.

In Breath of the Wild, there’s this island to the southeast of the vast overworld map. It’s a small island just behind a shrine sitting in the middle of the ocean. I got there by using a raft, but you may be able to glide there too.

ANYWAY, once you set foot on this island, a voice speaks to you and takes away your weapons, armor, materials, food, anything that you have gathered thus far, leaving you with only your Sheikah Slate, any runes you have (with their powerups!), and your...well, wits. But don’t fret! This is only temporary--as soon as you pass the trial, you’ll have all these back. This is a Shrine Quest and to complete it, you have to gather three orbs around the island and place them in three shrines hidden in various locations. The hard part about this quest is that you really have to think about how to fight enemies and keep yourself safe. I mean, the black moblin on the island killed me once by tapping me with its knife! Furthermore, you can’t save during the trial, so if you die, you have to start from the beginning.

Anyway, I can imagine Rantarou Amami doing this by being the freespirit that he is and sailing to the island and explore it “because it’s there!” But as soon as he steps on the beach, he loses all his items and is stuck running around (in just his underwear, of all things lmao). He first searches the beach and finds one of the altars on a rocky platform just off the coast. It’s close enough to reach by swimming, but how is he gonna throw the orb over there? He turns away and searches the rest of the beach. He needs to find food, fast, and weapons as flaming Chuchus drop from branches and chase him slowly with their strings of fire. The light is dying, as he has a feeling that Keese that lurk in the night will be active very soon. Weapons, weapons, weapons, food...He stops and sees a tower of white smoke a little further away on the beach. Fire! A campfire! Oh, but if he learned anything on his previous adventures, where there’s fire, there is almost always enemies--usually bokoblins. He sneaks closer, crouching down on the cooling sand as he hides behind wooden crates. There were three red bokoblins screeching and hollering around a campfire, and near them were metal crates. Amami didn’t have any weapons on him, but instead, he uses magnesis to move the crates and smack all the bokoblins! As a start, he gathers what weapons and food he could find then explores the rest of the island.

I can just imagine him gliding and landing on top of Hinox’s belly, stealing the orb around its neck, and high-tailing it to the beach until Hinox gives up and returns to sleeping lol. That’s one orb down. THUNDERSTORM TIME!!! Amami makes it to a treehouse guarded by two archer bokoblins. They aren’t too difficult, now that he has a shield and sword on his own, so he defeats them and ducks underneath the canopy as this vicious thunderstorm blows in. Massive pillars of lightning struck the ocean, the trees, the ground, casting temporary walls of flame which are extinguished by the heavy downpours. The thunder rattles the earth like an earthquake. It’s quite scary to be outside at this time, so Amami patiently waits and takes a brief nap underneath the canopy where he is (mostly) dry. Two orbs down; one to go. Amami climbs the small mountain on the island and s-l-o-w-l-y picks off the bokoblins and moblin guarding the area. There, he has orb number three! After three full days of adventuring and surviving all by his lonesome, he completes the trial, given back his items, and is allowed to finally leave and return to...whatever he was doing.

[weditchthemap]

The Ultimate Guide for Hiking Torres del Paine’s W, O, and Q Treks

What is Torres del Paine?

Torres del Paine is a national park in southern Chile.  You can take day trips into the park sleep within the park hiking well-defined treks.  The park has ice fields, various types of glaciers,  lakes, expansive landscapes, and craggy mountains.  Please read our popular post about hiking the W-Trek by clicking here (this post has been featured in international magazines):

Extensive Hiking Information

Every day at 3:00pm a hostel and gear rental shop called Erratic Rock puts on a free lecture about hiking the W.  It is short and very informative with a Q&A session at the end.

Getting to the Park

Puerto Natales is the gateway city into the park.  You can arrange all your lodging, transport, gear rental, tours, etc. once you get to Puerto Natales.  However you may want to reserve your campsites/refugios several months in advance as popular spaces tend to book up.

Getting to Puerto Natales:  The two closest airports are Calafate, Argentina and Punta Arenas, Chile.  Flying into Punta Arenas from Santiago is a cheap option if you are already in Chile but for those traveling from Argentina Calafate is your best bet.  Although google maps will state the bus from Calafate to Puerto Natales is 3.5 hours, agencies will plan for 6 hours due to road conditions and a border crossing.  Busses from Punta Arenas are only a few hours and don’t involve any border crossings.  If flying into Punta Arenas a nice place to stay is Hotel Carpa Manzano.  You can also take a day trip to see the King Penguins with Patagonia Tours.  Punta Arenas also has a tax free area none as Zona Franca, which is just north of the city.  You can buy some travel equipment here at reduced prices.

Busses into Torres del Paine leave daily at 7:00am and 7:15am from the bus terminal and arrive in the park around 9am.  Busses will drop you off where you can buy entrance tickets (21,000 pesos but USD are also accepted—cash only).  Please bring your passports and all other reservations you have.  You can take a shuttle to central which is where most people start their journey.  You can also remain on the bus and get dropped off at the catamaran which will take you to Paine Grande (one-way/return tickets cost 20,000/30,000 pesos but USD are also excepted-cash only).

Comparing Various Hikes within the Park:

You can do day trips in the park but you’ll miss most of the park’s splendor and this should only be reserved for elderly or those unfit for hiking/trekking. 

W-Trek:  This is by far the most common and most people you meet in the park will be undertaking this 3 to 5 night trek within the park.  You’ll stay at Paine Grande and/or Refugio Grey, Cuernos or Frances, and Central or Chileano.  By completing the W-trek you will be able to see the three largest attractions in the park (glacier grey, mirador Britanico, and The Torres).  The hike will be a bit crowded so come prepared to share nature with hundreds of others.  The mess halls along this hike will be cramped, loud, and full of conversations about excited tourists and their plans for their time in the park

O-Trek:  The O-trek adds 4 additional nights to the W-Trek and takes you in a complete circle.  The campsites of Seron, Dickson, los Perros, and el Paso are much more remote and only a fraction of the size of those found on the W.  The amenities are fewer, options to buy food are limited, and the ability to access power is restricted.  However during my last trip into the park (in 2015) the O was even more rustic.  Only a few years back you had to carry your own food and camping supplies with you but now you can rent gear and buy warm meals along the way.  You’ll be hiking with a cohort of people that will all set up camp at the same campsites each night.  The 20 or so people that you will hike with will become your family for the next several days.  Although the hikes are long the overall pace seems to move more slowly.  Conversations are less about accomplishments and more geared towards experiences during the day.  If you’re looking for a backcountry type camping experience and more personal connections this hike is for you.

Q-Trek: This is the O-Trek with one additional day added—an extra 17km hike from the CONAF Administration building takes you to Paine Grande.  Although we started our hike from the CONAF Admin. Building please note they require you only hike south.  If you plan to break the rules and hike north, as we did, you will need to hitch a ride (or walk) to the starting point. You will be able to do this from the catamaran stop.

Trail Maps Along the Hike: Some are more accurate than other so don’t rely on them too much. Keep track of your own progress to estimate your hiking time and ETA and you’ll be better off. I’ve heard some people complaining that the posted estimated time was way too short while other commented on them being way too long.

Types of Lodging in the Park

Our first time in the park we reserved our spots almost a year in advance.  This time around we were able to book only a couple weeks prior.  We did need to delay our arrival several weeks to make things work out—also we were among the last 50 people hiking the O before the back circuit closed for the year (the O portion of the park closes April 1st).

Camping (gear carried with you): This includes your personal gear and/or any rented gear you arranged before arriving in the park.  This is your cheapest option and will cost you $8 to $20 USD per person per night (there are several free camp sites you can book through the CONAF website).  You will need to carry your gear with you from site to site.  You still need to reserve all campsites in advance.   Until recently this was the only way to hike the O circuit.

Camping (rented at campsite): You can rent full gear at every camp site.  You will get a 4-season tent, sleeping mattress, sleeping bag, and pillow.  You will pay between $40 to $60 USD per person per night.  You will not have to set up or take down any of the gear and everything will already be prepared for you upon your arrival at the campsite.

Shared Rooms/Domes: Only a few years ago this type of accommodation was unheard of outside the larger refugios along the main W circuit.  Now almost all sites offer this option.  You will be provided a bed in a dorm with 5 to 7 other people.  You’ll have everything you need to sleep comfortably.  You’ll pay between $55 and $110 per person per night.

Private Room: The only place to rent a private room is at the Torres Hotel and most people staying here are probably not doing the W trek.  You’ll pay hundreds of dollars a night for a room.

Getting Supplies in Puerto Natales

Do yourself a favor and spend at least 1 or 2 nights in Puerto Natales before you plan to head into the park, especially if you plan to hike the complete O circuit.  Getting everything prepared, packed, rented, and organized takes more time than you think.  We stayed at a lovely hotel called Hostal Los Pinos in the center of town which provided us quick access to the several grocery stores around town.

This time around we took with us most of our gear.  We picked up some loose ends at the duty free shops in Punta Arenas and only had to rent a camping stove.  Check out our ultralight camping gear in this short time-lapse video where we set up camp during our recent trip in the park.

I will not go into too much detail about the type of gear you should bring as you can read this advice elsewhere or hear it at the info session at Erratic Rock.  Take your time and shop around since prices can differ by magnitudes of 2 depending on where you buy/rent your gear/food.  There are places that sell only dried fruit and nuts and offer prices half of what you’ll find in other stores.  With the W it makes sense to rent gear but when you have to rent for almost 10 days it may start to make sense to buy gear and then try to resale after your travels.  Gear will also be cheaper in your home country (especially true in the US).

Packing Advice (Food)

We didn’t spend too much time worrying about the weight of our food when we hiked the W but this time around we were much more concerned.  We spent 10 days in the park and carrying that much food adds up.  In fact the majority of our weight on our backs at the start of our hike was food weight.  We found the following method to be immensely helpful.  We calculated how many calories we needed to consumer each day and counted out nuts, cookies, dried fruit, etc. into zip lock backs—1 for breakfast, 1 for snacks throughout the day, and 1 for dinner.  We also has a few extra snacks in our bags for good measure.  Counting calories is essential for 2 important reasons.  You need to eat enough when hiking and if you don’t bring enough food you will be spending hordes of cash at the refugios to keep your appetite at bay.  Conversely, if you bring too much food you will be carrying more weight than you need and you’ll quickly learn how heavy carrying 20 kilos 8 hours a day really is.  Consider this, if you brought only 4 ounces of extra food for each meal you would end up carrying and extra 7 kilos between 2 people.

Having food individually packaged also makes it easy to handle as you’ll want to hang your food up in the trees at most sites to keep the mice away.  At least 4 people had their bags and/or tents eaten through by enterprising mice.

 Food Ideas To Pack:

Cured meats and hard cheeses – these work great and will remain good your entire trip.  We ate our last bit of meat and cheese on day 9 and it tasted just as fresh as day 1.  The temperatures are low and you will not need to worry about spoilage.

Fresh fruit - should be avoided because of their low energy to weight ratio.   If you bring make sure to eat early on.

A liter of wine – I brought this to share with my table the first night of the hike.  This helped to form some lasting bonds that weren’t soon forgotten.

Peanut butter, jam, Nutella – spreads work great as they are basically pure energy and can make an unsavory cracker more delectable.

Dried fruit and nuts - will provide you with most of the nutrients you need and will help you in the much lacking fiber department when it comes to camping food.

Cookies, chocolates, and treats – this is your time to indulge.  Normally you want to avoid such calorie-rich foods, but when weight is your enemy make sure you stock up.

Teas and coffees – Drinking cold glacier water has its appeal but there is nothing like sitting down with a warm beverage after a day of hiking.

Powdered soups – these taste relatively good and cook up quickly.  I added rice noodles and whole wheat pasta to mine to add calories.  Make sure to drink plenty of water as these are incredibly salty.

Dehydrated foods – you can buy these in town but you’ll pay a pretty penny for them.  We met a couple of people on the trail that prepared their own.  If you want trail cred (like street cred but way cooler) whip out your own dehydrated fettuccini Alfredo.

Packing Advice (Gear)

Pack in a way that makes sense to you.  Nothing sucks more than having to riffle though your entire bag in search of a spare battery.  Keep like things together and think about when you will need things from your bag.  Does your teddy bear really need to be readily accessible?  Maybe that ourside pocket is better saved for a granola bar or toilet paper. Bring extra garbage bags to keep everything organized and dry.  Sleep with your phone, camera, and spare batteries at the foot of your sleeping bag to keep them warm (operating batteries at low temperatures shorten their life).  For this reason many hikers keep extra camera batteries in their pockets during the day.  As the park continues to modernize warm showers are becoming available almost everywhere so pack a quick-drying travel towel and single use soaps/shampoos to avoid having to buy them at the refugios.  A drop sheet under your tent will help keep you dry and compression bags will reduce the overall bulk of your gear.

Other Advice

Thanks to the thin ozone (aka hole in ozone) you’ll want to load up on sun lotion, hats, and glasses.  With very few acceptations you will not go more than an hour without a fresh water source so please leave your large water bladders/bottles behind.  Charging at refugios is now easier than ever so leave behind your power bricks.  Internet is available at most campsites along the W for those who still want to remain connected. Most importantly, try to enjoy the best scenery that Patagonia has to offer while you visit Torres del Paine National Park.

Please don’t hesitate to reach out to us if you have any questions about your trip to Torres del Paine.

[tyleroakley-obsessed]

This Saturday (December 2, 2017), 25,000+ runners from all over the world will descend upon our fair city for the annual Memphis St. Jude Marathon, half marathon, 10K, and more. This guide has basic info on routes, traffic delays, times, weather, cheering section and general info. I’d suggest you also read the following posts, all updated for 2017. 13 Places To Carb Load In Memphis Attention Runners: St. Jude Marathoner Discounts & Deals You’re Invited! 2017 ILM Blog Cheering Section 5 Things To Do In Memphis This Weekend: December 1-3 If you plan to run on Saturday, you’re not just helping St. Jude in their mission of medical research and treatment of sick kids, but you’re also a kick-ass athlete. Go you. Here’s what you need to know. – The 10K starts at 7:15, the Marathon and Half-Marathon start at 8 a.m. and the 5K start at 8:50 am. They all start at 2nd and Monroe. There’s also a Kids’ Marathon at 1:30 p.m. at Beale and 3rd/B.B. King. Read more. – The race route meanders through midtown and downtown. The finish line is at AutoZone Park. If you live or work in Memphis west of East Parkway, you will have traffic delays and road blockages. Below is the full St. Jude Memphis marathon course map. Click here for a larger version. Click here for the half marathon route. – St. Jude usually says talk to the MPD if you need specific info about road closures, but I also found this enormous list, which isn’t even all of them. More information if you scroll down to this page. – But listen: it will be hard to get around all morning and afternoon in the Midtown/Downtown area. Prepare yourself accordingly. We all know this is happening well in advance. They even have the race dates set three years in advance. – This year, I Love Memphis will go all out again to support the Memphis St. Jude Marathon on December 1. We will post up at Mile 24 (near Sunrise Memphis at 670 Jefferson) from 10:30 a.m. until around 2:30 p.m. and cheer our faces off. – PLEASE join me. Even if you can only stay for a half-hour. Mile 24 is such an important point in the race and the runners need our support. Plus, this year is going to be the best Cheer Section yet. Why? – We are using the new breakfast restaurant Sunrise Memphis as a home base, which means you can buy breakfast foods and BLOODY MARYS AND MIMOSAS YASSS and use the restrooms (YES!) during the marathon. – Stax Museum is bringing us music and staff members to help with the “Soul Train” theme. Dress up if you want. It’s going to be lit. – I will be there for at least 3.5 hours, but you don’t have to! You can come and go, traffic willing to fit your schedule. Go here and here for more details. Here are a few comments from actual runners regarding the cheer section: “I’m coming to Memphis for the first time ever. I’ll be running for St Jude in the marathon. These posters will be fun to see! Thanks for doing this!” – Patrick O. “Thanks so much for the support! … and perfect location – there’s not a lot of support near there and those last miles are when you need it most.” – Keshia W. “Please high five me if you see me. Mile 24 sounds a lot like death right now. Might need one to keep going.” – Raquel H. – Parking downtown will be tough. If you’re headed downtown to race or go to work, give yourself a ton of extra time. You can see a parking and hotel map here. – Some of the people running in Saturday’s races are St. Jude Heroes. These are people who have raised money for St. Jude during their training through donations. In 2012, 4,200 Heroes raised $3 million for the hospital. Grizzly bear sighting! #StJudeMarathon #stjuderuns http://pic.twitter.com/biM9zyoB5u — Holly Whitfield (@ilovememphis) December 5, 2015 – As of today, Friday, December 1, the weather is looking pretty dang great. Great a jacket and hat just in case and come cheer with me (or any one of the awesome cheering sections). Trust me, it’s way better than three years ago when everyone froze nearly to death, or several years back when they had to cancel the marathon because of ice. This Saturday’s weather looks great for the @StJude #MemphisMarathon, watching @MemphisFB on the big screen @LibertyBowlMem, Christmas parades, and all-around fall weather lovers! http://pic.twitter.com/JdkbJFFgtl — MemphisWeather.net (@memphisweather1) November 30, 2017 – It’s too late to register for the races, but I highly recommend getting up early and parking yourself along the race route to cheer on the runners. Take a look at the race route, or if you can, join me at Mile 24. Finally, read my post from last year with 13 Places To Carb Load for the St. Jude Marathon (or Anytime). Check it out if you’re running one of the races, or if you’re just a normal human person who likes carbs. Are you a home owner in Memphis, with a broken garage door? Call ASAP garage door today at 901-461-0385 or checkout http://ift.tt/1B5z3Pc

http://ilovememphisblog.com/2017/12/what-you-need-to-know-about-the-memphis-st-jude-marathon-2016-edition/

[flaine1996]

Ezner Shepard’s Chronicles

Sup Commanders! back at it again! though this is kinda longer than usual so i put it under read more :)! This is a sequel to the comic i once made XD can be found here: https://mangalover000.deviantart.com/art/Prologue-Mass-Effect-OT-711917219 or through my Ezner Shepard tag :)

Sneak peak:

Garden worlds had always been habitable places, where the ecosphere could support any population.

Yet somehow Anhur managed to feel anything but habitable.

The buildings that had been built had seem new and renovated and yet hardly anyone had seemed to be living in it. Preferring to be living on the streets. From the looks of it though, it hadn’t seemed like they had a choice.

Which is why it had been a strange sight seeing a group of armed soldiers walking down the streets as if they owned the place. After all this was the traverse, soldiers don’t come here. Not by choice anyway.

The tall, bulked up soldier in the front talks to one of the locals. He points to the nearby clearing far off from the eye can see and the soldier nods and gives him a small container. The local gladly accepts and runs away from prying eyes, holding the container as if he was carrying gold.

The soldiers charge on passing through the clearing, going in deeper and deeper.

Boots filled with gravel and sand. Sweat pouring down there faces. Guns held close to their chests. Until they see it. Somewhere in the middle of their misery. They see it. A small building.

One of the soldiers raises his hand and an omni-tool appears, “The scanner is picking up life signs, Commander. How shall we proceed?”

The tall man surveys the area, “Hajjins position yourself 15 feet southeast from here take Alvarez with you, Alvarez I need you to decrypt any information you can get in that building and the rest of you will be ground team. Move out.”

Without a single word the rest of the soldiers filed out with disciplined movement. The ground team had been precise and carefully as they reached closer to the building despite the rocky terrain. As one of the soldiers moved closer however a turret unsheathed itself from its cover blasting away at the soldier’s leg.

“Goddamit! Alvarez, did you not see that?!” The commander yells as one of the other soldier drags the injured behind a boulder they had found.

“Was just about to contact you, Sir!” Alvarez hastily replies.

“Fucking asswipe,” says the injured soldier.

“Save you energy, Lee. Trembley slap some omnigel on that! Is there any way you can take it down Hajjins? Any other surprises we should worry about, Alvarez?” “Hajjins says she’s doing the best she can but as long as you aren’t in range it won’t come out… and also…”

“Spit it out Alvarez!”

“They’ve managed to scatter IEDs below ground… If you even step on o—”

“I GET IT ALVAREZ! Fuck…. Can you somehow deactivate them?”

“Not without proper gear… but i can show you where they are located,” as he said that the commanders omni-tools pinged showing a map of the area with glowing red dots scattered on the battleground in front of them, “That’s not all… There’s still another turret… hiding…”

“FUCK SAKE! Find a way to deactivate them! NOW!” The commander barked and turned to his soldiers, “You’ve heard him for now we have to wait and pray for a fucking miracle”

“You’re telling us to wait,” a soldier with distinct blood red, black striped armor asked.

“Didn’t think you were deaf,” The commander snapped, “If you want to be a moving target then do it, but i am not wasting any good men.”

With that he turned his back on the soldier and checked on Lee.

“Uhm… sir,” Alvarez called shakily.

“WHAT NOW?”

“Shepard’s mobilizing,” replied Alvarez nervously.

The commander’s head turns immediately to the battleground in front. The blood red, black striped armored soldier charging into the battlefield with only a storm shotgun at hand.

“SHEPARD, GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!“ The commander yelled.

Shepard didn’t even pay the commander attention, staring at the battlefield ahead. Only having a few minutes to glance from the commander’s omni tool to decipher a clear path or one hoped was a clear path.

Feet thuddering the ground at each step.

That’s when the sound of turrets unsheathing from the ground could be heard, Shepard knew that time is of the essence and that less than 10 seconds, it will have found its target. Without even thinking, two grenades are thrown at the first turret while firing shots from a storm shotgun, managing to damage it enough that it blew up. The second one will be a problem since shepard had no time to scan the area.

Shepard had one trump card though. Biotics.

Feeling the tingling sensation of eezo nodules from the brain and powered by the implants at the back of the skull. Shepard engulfed in a biotic barrier which felt like second nature. Blue light started emanating from Shepard’s whole entire being before a hail of bullets started pouring down. Fortunately enough, the end would be near. The door to the building was only 3 feet away however shepards biotic shield as well as the shield from the suit had practically been blown to pieces. One more shot will be fatal.

Shepard leaps, body twisting to face the turret and using the sheer carnage ability from the shotgun sent shepard flying and hitting the entrance door while, simultaneously, blowing up the last turret.

“Shep—,” Alvarez reported.

“I fucking see it, Alvarez. Shepard, deactivate the IE—,” before the commander could finish, Shepard disconnected the comm channels and entered the building.

Once inside, Shepard noticed how the whole building seemed larger inside than outside and sees containers ranging from large to small. Creeping closer to the smaller containers, shepard notices that a small beeping light is attached at its handle, a bomb. Seems like the targets had prepared themselves for a likely event of an outsider. But they hadn’t prepared for Shepard.

Hearing footsteps, Shepard hides behind one of the nearest crates as the distinctive sounds of prattle kept coming closer.

“Those bastards with two eyes have been following us for weeks. We need to end this here,” one of them says.

“Don’t worry, those pests will be blown to sky high the minute they try getting through,” the other happily replies.

Shepard glances from the crate and notices that they are standing just approximately two feet away. Checking the omni-tool, shepard’s shields and abilities had managed to recharge.

Not wanting to miss this chance, the small container that had been idly standing to the side is thrown violently to one of the speakers breaking and freezing him into place. Before the other one could even speak a word, Shepard grabs hold of its mouth and ramming a fist through his face repeatedly until it falls to the floor. Laying there on the pool of its own blood shepard grabs hold of the omni-tool it wears. Clicking what looks like the map of the area, Shepard memorizes the layout of the building before the hologram fazes out. Then proceeds to drag both dead bodies behind the crate used for hiding earlier.

Shepard remembers a shortcut to the west and proceeded to move. The layout is pretty simple, after the entrance there would be the main hall connected to half a second floor with stairs.

All Shepard needs to do is reach the stairs. However upon reaching the clearing a group of the targets had been using the main hall as a gathering. Wasting no time, Shepard spots and uses the nearest crate to take cover.

“Have the implants been inserted?” asks one of them.

“Yes with force i might add,” another replies.

“Good. Remind them of the position they are in,” another comments.

“What of the alliance soldiers,” another asks irritatedly.

“What of them? they’re to stupid to even find us. Anhur has been desolate of batarians since 2170, they will not look here,” another chimes in, “Besides, we’re well equip for dead meat.”

Clutching the shotgun, Shepard creeps all the way to the stairs. Fortunately the batarians have been too focused on their discussion to even notice. Reaching the top, two snipers are stationed to guard but decides instead to play cards.

With one flick of a wrist, Shepard lifts one of the batarian from his seat and slams his head onto the other one. Before both of them could react Shepard grabs both their heads and slams it hard against each other knocking them both out cold. But Shepard didn’t just want to knock them out. Grabbing hold of the first snipers neck, shepard twists his head until a snapping sound could be heard and does the same for the remaining batarian.

“IF YOU TWO DIM WITTED SHMILA, ARE BREAKING SLAVES NECKS, I WILL BREAK YOURS,” one of the batarians threatens menacingly.

No reply came but a small rotating disk shaped object falls from the sky. The batarians look a bit closer before they realized what it is.

“BO—” before it could finish, a blinding white light and an explosion rocks the whole clearing. The batarians are dazed and injured but they hear a loud thud from the table. As they look up a single armored being is standing.

One of the batarians opens its mouth before a loud blast of a shotgun echoes through the halls and before any of the others could raise their weapons, Shepard guns them down with quick precision and accuracy. Leaving only one clutching its head at the ground.

When the carnage was over, Shepard sheathes the shotgun and approaches the last batarian remaining and stepping tightly on his crumpled form speaks, “Where’s Balak?”

“W-Who?” The batarian asks.

Annoyed with its response, Shepard kicks the batarian hard enough that it sends him flying to the nearest wall.

“I’ll keep this simple,” Shepard says while grabbing the batarians head, “If you do not give me the information i want. I will take each one of your eyes and feed them to you.”

The batarian simply laughs, “Puny freak, you alliance soldiers aren’t the type.”

However his smile falters as Shepard own feral grin grows, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

——–

The remaining soldiers outside finally breach the building. As they scan the area only the dead could be found.

“Fuck sake, it smells like a varren took a really huge shit,” Trembley comments.

“Keep your wits about you, we don’t know what lurks here,” the commander commands.

Before they could even step forward, a dark figure approaches. Without even hesitating the soldiers point their weapons at it, “FREEZE!”

Without even a single word Shepard emerges from the shadows.

“SHEPARD WERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?” The commander yells.

“In here.” Shepard replies coolly.

Before the Commander could pop a blood vessel, Alvarez steps forward, “What’s that in your hand?”

Without replying, shepard throws the object at him. As Alvarez catches the object, he notes how hard it is and with a shaky voice, “T—this is an arm…”

“As well as the omni-tool if we preserve the arm we might still get information regarding Balak so i took it from them. We should also tell the alliance regarding the slaves too,” Shepard comments before she heads towards the door.

“WE ARE NOT DONE SHEPARD,” the commander yells as he follows behind her.

Alvarez and Trembley looked back at the hallway and at each other before catching up with the group.