34th Day of Searing, 124th Year of the Age of Steel
The cool breeze rippled the wings Masagh had given himself with Chimera. They were the leathery reptilian wings of his Pterincus totem, although grown to a wingspan of over fifteen feet to fit his normal body. He was like some grisly caricature of a Kathar legionnaire, dark and decaying. It was the silhouette of just one such Avialae flying patrol above the towering tops of the newest buildings that had forced Masagh down to take cover amongst the crenelations of a more aged cathedral.
He kept his eyes on the circling flyer above, silhouetted against the moon. Masagh pressed himself deep into the shadows under one of the cathedral’s eves, shrouding his bat-like wings around him. Even from this distance he could recognize the feathered wings and the glint of armor. There was only one thing that could be in Gel’Grandal. He had seen the Kathar on occasion, everyone had. Mostly they were arranged by the Palace of Spires or the Gash, both places he did not frequent if he could help it.
Apparently the Kathar also patrolled the skies of the greater city, or perhaps this one was off duty. Either way, it was an obstacle Masagh did not want to have to deal with. He watched the sentinel veer around one of the buildings and then stepped out into the moonlight. Masagh had snuck out of the Creth Compound with his new Fingerbone Charm in order to find the Kinvaren. Sabrione and Riah were frequently patrolling and scouting leads, but all of that had to go through his mother. She was notoriously paranoid and getting her to allow such risks was slow going.
The Kinvaren had a source though. They could not afford to play it safe in their underground hovel and hope the source hadn’t given up its location. So once again Masagh had disobeyed Emerande. He had, without telling anyone but Sabrione and Indira, gone to track the Kinvaren alone. He hadn’t planned on fighting anyone, just tracking them. He certainly hadn’t planned on fighting any Kathar legionnaires.
Masagh slunk around the crumbling stone of the cathedral eves and onto the other side. The wind buffeted the Fademantle’s dense cloth and the leathery wings as he stepped out into the open night above the streets below. Masagh held the Fingerbone Charm up in the flat of his palm.
His vision blurred and his ears roared. The ghoul turned in place until his was facing west and his his senses return to him. There was no surprise the Kinvaren were hiding amongst the elite of the city. It had been odd to see them in the sewers at all. Masagh searched the tops of buildings in the distance with his eyes, as though he would be able to recognize which was Kinvaren from sight alone.
As he put the Fingerbone Charm away, a shiver coursed through his spine. It was a sense of being watched, or a wave of paranoia. The ghoul turned back to look at the tall buildings where he had seen the Kathar flyer. Nothing.
Best to be away from here, then. His path led away from both the Palace and the Gash. Hopefully, that meant away from any Kathar legionnaires as well. The crenelations were covered in grime and bird droppings as he stepped up onto them and looked down over the street below. Gel’Grandal was mostly asleep at this hour, but the city was never truly asleep. A few contraptions of magic and steel rolled down the street below. One bar still had its lights on, orange spilling into the street beyond.
“Why is a citizen conducting late night magic on a rooftop?” A voice called from behind him.
Masagh turned and saw a lean young man in segmented armor and a helmet stood behind him. He carried a short spear with a vicious head and white wings spread half furled behind him. Even in just the light of the moon the arcane rune curling around the man’s right eye was visible.
“Semblance.” Masagh growled in annoyance. He should have waited to use his necrotic artifact.
“The use of magic is prohibited outside-” The legionnaire began, lowering the point of his blade.
Masagh stepped off the roof.
In freewill the ghoul unfurled his own leathery wings and angled to take off down the nearly empty street. The wind rushed in his ears and he manifested Ghoulblade in hand. Corpses tended to draw attention in Gel’Grandal. Especially corpses of legionnaires. If he could evade the man that would be better. As he ripped through the air above the street like a grisly shadow, the gleaming Kathar followed.
The man had been flying all his life, but Masagh had lived longer. He dove and weaved, cutting corners close enough to reach out and kick off brick and window sill. Masagh conserved his aether and capabilities, relying on putting obstacles in the Kathar’s way. Keeping as much of his power a secret might serve to limit his interest to the legionnaire or else give him an ace when it was needed if he couldn’t shake the man.
White wings flashed and the Kathar was spinning down towards him from behind. Masagh flew low over the street, dodging vehicles and horses with a swirling of leathery wing. The Kathar was chasing him, eyes following his every move. Masagh needed to make some distance or else attack. The Avialae was faster than him, and if he turned to call for backup it would be even more difficult to escape.