Brittle Bones

The Warlord assembled what vines he could as Bast made her way down the precarious mountain towards the stranger. She seemed exhausted, and he could not tell what injuries she had sustained. If she made it off this cliff alive, he intended to claim her for the Armada. She would owe him her life, and her health - assuming she was as injured as he assumed. The Armada needed fresh recruits, and he wasn’t going to turn down one that lay swaying at his paws.

When Bast arrived, he dropped down the vines, and Bast and Marshal worked together to lope them around her chest. It was slow, dangerous work. Moving over an open drop to secure her. When it was done, the Warlord tied the vines first around himself, and then around Bear. “Pull” he ordered his companion, and together, they began to slowly pull her up the mountain. Marshal landed on back, keeping a close eye on the vines as they were pulled taut. Bast, slowly climbed back up the mountain near them. There to attempt to fix anything that might go wrong.


"Speech"