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Hareveth: A Forsaken Tale


Valkrae

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Corporal O'Connor turned directly away from Inis as she spoke, feeling as though he had some sort of right to not listen to a single word from one of those... What were they called where he was from?

The word escaped his mind as he swatted the thought, as well as Inis' monologue off, stomping past her and out the doorway, and digging his feet into the gravel of the ground outside and kicking a rock aside swiftly.

He trailed off after Gideon and Cain, his hands lodged in his pockets, whistling to himself in contentment as he thought to himself about how well that went. He remembered by mere instinct that those... Zenoids? Could be quite dangerous, and he sarcastically whispered to himself how spooked he was by that stick wielding thin faced snotnose.

Chuckling to himself, he contemplated for a moment how easy it just might be to take on that wretched... Xeno, and what he might be able to find in the blacksmith's to help him accomplish that, before shooing the thought away when he heard Inis walking behind him.

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O'Connor slowed momentarily as he noticed Inis following him, before spinning around and firmly placing his hand effectively right in front of her chest to stop her.

He stared at her fiercely, the hand trembling with anger.

"I don't know who you are. And I don't know who you think you are. But. I'm pretty sure we -all- want to get the fuck out of here a-sap, lady, and if you think we're too dumb to find a way out, don't waste your God-damned time with us. Get lost - or suck it the fuck up and work with us as a -team-. 'Kay? 'Kay."

He quickly marched back towards the blacksmiths, not giving her a chance to reply, and entered the blacksmith.

"Well, that tall girl will be here in a few moments. Most likely not happy. Brace for it." He chuckled out, slapping Gideon on the shoulder.

"What'd we find?"

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Inis stood still, shocked for a moment, before muttering quietly, "I don't think you are dumb." She follows several metres behind O'Connor, entering the Blacksmith shortly after him; looking around at the people looking at her, she mutters quietly, "Sorry." maneuvering past them, she picks up a shortsword, spinning it experimentally in her left hand.

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O'Connor finally realized that he would have to take what he could, gripping a small barbed knife from the floor and twirling the blade in his hands.

He then quickly tugged the knife through a belt loop in his combat jeans, stowing it, before turning his attention to Cain. Grabbing a hammer, he approached Cain, heavy at work with demolishing the door.

He quickly muttered "Dibs on first pick," as he placed a hand on Cain's shoulder and lightly tugged him back, nodding once. "Let me try'n help."

O'Connor swung the hammer directly into the padlock, smashing the chain links to broken shards, which then trickled to the floor. He then kicked the door open swiftly, shrugging confidently, and holding a hand through the doorway to keep it open. "Ladies first, gentlemen." He gestured to Inis, and then comically to Cain.

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Cain began to rifle through the pile of weaponry before pulling out a Winchester Model 1897 out, with the stock cut off and the top barrel cut short. He then picks up a steel axe with a wooden grip and says to Inis whilst slipping them in between his belt and jeans "These are not 'metal club things', they're the best god-damn warfare invention I've ever seen."

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O'Connor had found his weapon of choice the moment he glanced at the piles of firearms.

Walking to a small shelf, he placed both of his hands firmly on a old, plasteel and wooden las shotgun. He ran his hand down the cold, shiny barrel. Having heard the wood elf ask for a weapon with magic, he emitted a low growl, before snatching it firmly, slowly turning around and pointing the barrel loosely at Inis.

"Did you say... Magic, lady?"

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Inis frowns, looking up from the pistol, "I've already said that I'm not a sorceror, I use the magic of nature, they use the magic innate to themselves; now stop pointing that stick at me. Right now." She glances over at Cain, taking a step backwards, towards him, and away from O'Connor.

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O'Connor visibly began to shrug off Gideon's hand from his shoulder, before huffing through his nostrils and nodding. He squeezed the trigger of the shotgun, producing a dull buzz as it rang empty, never having contained a magazine in the first place.

O'Connor smirked slightly, shrugging. "There wasn't a laspack in it yet. I couldn't've shot you if I wanted to, Inis." He snorted, before slapping a cartridge into the magazine slot and charging the weapon up as he walked back outside, leaving the others to discuss.

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