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His scouting mission had been largely successful - tracking the most recent movements of the Band of the Eagle... plenty of information to report back to Captain Isheira. Flawlessly executed, as ever -- or, rather, it *had* been, until *somehow*, Kael had been spotted. Some woman of that filthy nation happening upon him. It *had* to have been chance, or blind fucking *luck*. He was careful - too careful for the likes of *her.*
Kael accepted no other explanation.
The chase had been a fierce one - at times, hunter blended into hunted, one trading roles with the other. Trees blurred by in streaks of green, the only sounds in the silent forest being two sets of harsh, sprinting footfalls, and ragged breaths. He'd shot the occasional arrow behind him, only for his pursuer to duck behind something at the last moment, or duck and roll - it shocked him, truthfully, to see one able to keep up with the reflexes of an Aieer, but he had little time to think on it in the moment. All that filtered through his mind was *kill* and *survive.*
She had pursued him to some ancient abandoned ruins - all crumbled, moss-and-vine covered marble pillars, a crumbling atrium, and statues of long-forgotten gods with faces too worn to discern who they might have been. Kael had rounded on her, bowstring drawn taut and the killing arrow knocked; he could see the whites of her wild, wide eyes, lips parted in shock... he was about to end the woman's miserable gods-damned existence when the earth itself roared. Everything shook so violently that his arrow loosed, going wide and sailing off somewhere far away - the ground crumbled beneath the two of them, sending them sprawling into the yawning darkness below.
Kael couldn't say how much time had passed - when he awoke, his temple was tacky with blood, wild mane of fiery hair covered in rockdust and armour pitted from shrapnel. With a groan, the Wood Elf pushed himself up to sitting - the world spun, a shrill ringing shrieking in his ears. Doubling over, the man clutched his head, gritting his teeth and blinking slowly to try and speed along disorientation's passing. It was... oppressively dark, only bleary shapes visible whilst he adjusted to the din. There was a permeating chill to this place -- one that went beyond mere temperature. It seeped into the bones. Into the soul.
He should not be here.
Letting out a slow exhale to center himself, Kael's gaze scanned the area - he was in some kind of... ancient room. There was a stone bench in the corner, with a shattered vase beside it. Faintly luminescent mushrooms studded the spaces in the brickwork, creeping up the wall. An archway leading out into what appeared to be a hallway stood to his left, though it was too dark to see where it led. This place - whatever it was - must be the lower levels of the ruins on the surface, though Kael could not discern what culture or people might have built it from the sparsity of the room alone. Something moved, then, and Kael's hand instinctively dived for the sword at his hip.
To his surprise, it was *her*. His pursuer. That blighted *dog* of the enemy nation.
She looked as poorly as he did - there was a wicked gash to her midsection that wept crimson through her clothes - she was as covered in dust and chips of rubble as he was. Cautiously eking forward, Kael drew his dagger and pressed the cold steel to the soft column of the woman's neck. It would be so very easy to slit her throat right here and now - to watch that lifewine flow from the deep, thin slice. Another enemy soldier, ended at his hand. It was no more than she deserved.
Yet...
Watching her face, a smooth mask of comatose slumber, twisted by the odd twitch of pain or discomfort, something stayed his hand. He was in an unknown place, of an origin unknown to him. Perhaps this woman knew something about it - or the area. He had been scouting in the territory of the nation she served, after all... and as loathe as Kael was to admit it, he was more worse for wear than he wanted to let on. One of his ribs felt fractured, and there was a deep wound to his left arm that would make dual-wielding or using a bow difficult. As yet, the Aieer could not discern if anything dangerous dwelled within these depths, either.
A small growl left his lips, visage scrunching up into a rictus snarl of anger. *Damn it.* He had little choice but to work with her... though he wasn't about to let that on. Quickly reaching down, he snatched her weapon from her belt and tossed it out of arm's reach - couldn't afford any unnecessary risks, after all. His free hand then moved to grasp her shoulder, whilst the other held the dagger steady to the lass's throat; the Aieer gave her body a rough shake to hopefully rouse her. As her eyelids fluttered and slowly began to open, Kael felt an odd twist in his gut. *Pretty.* The thought was unbidden... and entirely *unwelcome*.
"Your life is at my mercy, wretch," Kael bit out, voice rough from pain and grogginess. "No sudden moves, or I'll cut your damned throat. You're going to help me get out of here - cooperate, and I *may* spare your life when we escape."
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