fluffiest_archadian | [OOM] The Westersand, First Day, with Jay. (Prethreading.)

[OOM] The Westersand, First Day, with Jay. (Prethreading.)

The first hour or so out on the Westersand - an area more rock and clay than sand, but covered in a heavy layer of stuff nonetheless - is relatively uneventful. A few cactus-like creatures skitter across their path. Once or twice, something that looks like a burlap sack with a large, grinning tomato for a head gets too close and is shot down by an archer.

Sherral brings his chocobo alongside Jay's after a while, glancing over at him. "Are you dealing with the heat all right?"

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Jay laughs and resists the urge to glance over his shoulder to see how the men have reacted. No doubt they're as inscrutable as Sherral but Jay has a feeling what he just did with the Entite was impressively stupid.

"Unless we're very unlucky, we're not likely to see another one on this expedition," Sherral says. "They're fairly rare."

"That probably a good thing. The only other Beatles song I know all the words to is Yellow Submarine and I don't think that'll have quite the same effect." He jokes, settling back into their matching pace.

"Pah, submariners," one of the men remarks, a little way behind them.

"Perhaps not," Sherral says. "But if we encounter another one, we'll try it. For science."

Jay glances over his shoulder and laughs. "Couldn't agree more."

"Well, they seem to like ballads. I'll have to go through my collection and see what else I have."

Sherral chuckles a little.

For the next few hours, the ride is fairly uneventful. A few rogue tomatoes wander by, as do a few walking cacti. Once or twice a wolf is seen from afar.

As they start getting into narrower, more uneven paths, they're forced to move slower, and Sherral sends a scout up ahead. The scout returns after a while, trotting up on his chocobo.

"It looks like bandits have set up camp in this area. Probably recently, but they're well-equipped, with magicite for drawing near monsters if needs be. They've set up camp on one of the passes, to extract toll of anyone who passes through."

"Sounds like fun." Jay mutters, shifting his gear around on his shoulders. "How do you want to play this? I rock climb fairly well. I don't mind going up and around to meet you in the middle."

"How many are there?" Sherral asks.

"Forty-six," comes the immediate answer.

Sherral pauses, thinking. Then, to Jay: "I believe you and I might be able to attend to this matter by ourselves. We can climb the cliffs, pass around their camp and attack from behind."

Jay grins and gets down off Yanna, leaving the majority of his gear with her. He palms a tiny comm from one of his belt pouches and hands it to Sherral. "Put this in your ear and you'll be able to hear me and via versa."

He looks up at the cliff and pulls his jumpline from his belt. "Lets do this."

Sherral unclasps his helmet enough to slide the earpiece beneath it, then refastens it.

"By all means," he says, climbing off Bridget and collecting a jumpline of his own from the gear strapped to her.

Jay grins under his own helmet and runs for the cliff-face. He fires at a run, using his momentum to swing himself up. His suit had the advantage of being easy to move in and he bounces gracefully off the rocks, finding a foothold to fire again and again till he reaches the top, looking around for Sherral.

Sherral is a little slower to get up, but he's at the top of the cliff in good time, quickly brushing down his armour.

He takes a few steps forward, dropping into a crouch and peering down at the bandit camp nearby. Both sides are fortified, but the side they came from is noticeably more so. He can see cannons, but not many - two at the front, one at the back.

"What do you feel like trashing first? The men or the cannons?" Jay's voice is soft enough to be picked up by the comms but nothing more.

He pulls the scope from his rifle and examines the camp. "I've got a pretty clear shot from here but the next ridge would be better."

"The cannons," Sherral says. "They're magicite cannons, they pose the biggest threat to us here."

He pauses. "Let's head to the next ridge. Get you the best shot possible."

Jay nods and moves swiftly and silently across the rocks till he finds just the right spot. He lays flat on the ground with his rifle, taking aim with care and selecting the right ammo for the job. "Where's the best spot to hit them? The firing mechanism on top?"

"Firing mechanism, aye," Sherral says. "Take out the two at the front. I'm going to approach from the rear - I'll take the cannon out on my way."

He heads away along the ridge, moving towards the rear of the camp.

"No worries." He settles in, looking down the sight of his gun. "Give me a signal when you want them blown."

He rests his finger on the trigger, slowing his breathing, ready to take the shot.

Sherral makes his way down the cliff on the other side, and then circles the camp at an easy pace.

"I'm about to come into sight of their sentries," he murmurs, settling one hand on one of the magicite swords beneath his cloak. "Take out the front cannons now."

About seven seconds later, there was a yell from a sentry that he saw one, the sound through the earpiece of a sword being drawn - and then an extremely bright wave of lightning demolishes a chunk of the wall and continues into the camp until it collides with a watchtower and incinerates it.

Jay fired, pulled back the bolt and fired again, taking out both cannons in the space between three heartbeats. He shifted to follow to the source of the lighting, ready in case anyone took a run at Sherral.

The third cannon explodes shortly thereafter, and Sherral moves easily into the fray, blue magicite sword flashing about him, leaving trails of sparks behind him.

As soon as they see Jay, several bandits raise bows and start shooting at him. They are swiftly joined by a rifleman, although Ivalician guns are slow and woefully inaccurate.

Jay reloads and fires, worrying about the rifleman first and then the archers. He growls softly as an arrow skins across his shoulder, deflected by his armour but leaving a scratch on the smooth black surface. He shoots the archer in the head, taking him down in single messy shot.

Satisfied there are no more targets he can get from here, he fires his jump line across the ridge and draws a hand gun. "Bringing the fight to you."

"As you will," Sherral says calmly. "Try to leave any remaining infrastructure intact. We might yet have find purpose for it."

As several archers move into position to fire at Sherral, he sets a hand against the blade of his sword, and from its cutting edge comes a flurry of lightning blasts that tear through the archers in question.

"Are you telling me not to trash the place?" Jay's voice is light and laughing as he uses the jump line to slow his decent, surfing the loose gravel as he comes down the slope firing.

He jumps as he nears ground level, firing even as he flips through the air. He reaches back as he lets go of the line, pulling a sword from the sheath integral to his armour. Slashing with one hand and firing with the other, Jay hasn't had this much fun in years.

"More or less," Sherral replies cheerfully.

He decapitates a bandit, then frowns as the remaining ones start retreating up a nearby hill. One throws a shimmering shield up in their path, the other clutches a reddish-purple crystal to his chest and starts muttering.

Sherral growls, moving after them. Before he can reach them, a flash of reddish light illuminates the camp, and something large, winged and black pulls itself from the top of a mountain and swoops down towards them.

Jay swears and drops to a crouch. "Holy fuck! Okay, how do we kill that?"

But he also fires a bullet at the shield, wondering if his alternative world energy might give them an edge.

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