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

[fluffiest_archadian]

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?"

Comments

[runningred]

Jay pulls something small from his belt, tossing it to Sherral as they head after the last of the bandits. "Here, spray coolant for the burn. It'll take the edge off."

He spots the first bandit ahead, throwing a knife and landing it through the guy's throat.

[fluffiest_archadian]

Sherral grunts his thanks and sprays the coolant onto his hand, before tossing it back. His discarded sword is picked up and sheathed in short order.

The last few bandits have set up barriers of boxes, sandbags and wooden planks on the hill, firing arrows at them from behind them. Sherral pulls his own bow from his back, notches an arrow, and fires, catching one between the eyes.

[runningred]

Jag catches and pockets it, hoping the analgesic added to the spray will help Sherral till they get back to the rest of the team.

The bandits hiding behind their little barricade seem silly after messing with a dragon. Jay ignores the arrows, using a technique he learned from Arsenal back in the days he still called himself Speedy to dodge between them. Calculating the distance with a quick glance, Jay steals one of Sherral's arrows and attaches the spare heads from his crossbow bolts - a grey cylinder about the width of his thumb. A small explosive device. "Try that." He hands it to Sherral.

[fluffiest_archadian]

Sherral turns the arrow over in his hand, then notches it to his bow and fires it. He does look appreciative of the resulting explosion.

There's only about three bandits left. Sherral takes one out with an arrow to the neck.

[runningred]

Jay pulls one of his pistols and snaps off a shot, taking another guy down, leaving one. "Would you like the honours or shall I?" Ha asks, almost flippantly.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"By all means, go ahead," Sherral says lightly.

[runningred]

Jay grins under his helmet and waits patiently between desperate arrows to fire, taking the last man down quick and clean.

"So," He turns back to Sherral. "Dragon! That was cool. Never done that before."

[fluffiest_archadian]

"It's all downhill after the first dragon, I'm informed," Sherral says.

[runningred]

"Really? That's sad. I was looking forward to killing one better next time. We're coming back this way, right? Because I'm totally claiming a trophy." Kid on a sugar high? Maybe...

[fluffiest_archadian]

"We will be. Not for a while, though," Sherral says. "Maybe find a tooth or a scale now."

He taps the side of his helmet. "Move in through the front gate and secure the area. Check all the buildings - if you find any survivors, take them alive."

A moment later, the rest of the expedition rides in and gets to work.

[runningred]

Jay grins under his helmet and holsters his gun, all but skipping back to the dragon's corpse to pry himself free a trophy. He manage to score a scale and a tooth, taking a sample of wing as well. Might yield some interesting info when he has time to study it.

He wanders back to Sherral, stashing his scores in his pack when they rejoin the group. He's totally going to turn the dragon's scale into a breastplate for Yanna when he has time to work on it.

[fluffiest_archadian]

One of the other soldiers is using magic to heal Sherral's hand when Jay returns. Sherral is rather begrudgingly holding still while giving orders.

"Orig, Jones, stay here and guard this camp. Leban, take your chocobo and return to Rabanastre, have the garrison send men here to strip this place of any useful supplies and resources, and burn the rest to the ground," he says. "You know where we'll be making camp tonight - I want all three of you to catch up with us when you're done."

As the soldier working on his hand finishes, Sherral thanks him quickly and turns towards Jay. "We'll be ready to keep moving, minus a few men, shortly."

[runningred]

Jay nods and watches the efficiency with which Sherral's men do their thing. He's never been that kind of soldier but he can still appreciate it. "Onwards and upwards." He rubs Yanna's neck as he stashes his gear, glad to be seeing out the adrenal come-down while riding. He pulls a sugary power-bar from his pack and breaks it in half, offering it to Sherral.

[fluffiest_archadian]

Sherral takes it, peering at it.

"What's this?" He asks absently.

[runningred]

Jay takes his helmet off and rests it between his legs as he rides. "Post combat power bar, my grandfather's recipe. It buffers the low that comes after the adrenalin rush. My older brother use to get really bad lows so we all use to carry them. Besides that, they taste great." Home-made muesli, nut, dried berries and honey. Or at least as close as the Bar could provide.

[fluffiest_archadian]

Sherral quickly climbs onto Bridget, and snaps open the fastenings on his helmet, lifting it off and gnawing on the bar lightly.

"Hm. You're right, this isn't bad," he says.

The rest of the expedition, bar the three remaining, falls in behind them, with the two supply chocobos bringing up the rear.

[runningred]

Jay lets himself settle into the rhythm of the ride, enjoying the sway of the chocobos' gait. He checks his rifle over as they move on. It'll need a good clean when they stop for the night but until then, it's fine as is. He puts his helmet back on, just in case.

"How's your hand? I'm guessing that was pretty hardcore magic you pulled back there?" He keeps his voice low, speaking through the comms so no-one else needs to hear.

[fluffiest_archadian]

"It was a Quickening. I learnt it two years ago, but I've yet to - refine it," Sherral says, giving his hand a quick glance and finishing off the bar. He tugs his helmet back on, snapping the clasps back into place.

"It's a technique used by Judge Magisters. Drawing in and then expelling all the Mist around you in a single attack," he says. "During the war, I served under one. A Judge Magister, I mean."

[runningred]

"Knowing you, you'll refine it into something perfect and deadly. Just like your sword." Jay chuckles, dropping his voice lower will it's only a whisper only just picked up by the comms. "And the way you make love."

[fluffiest_archadian]

Sherral stammers a little (well, a lot), ducking his head.

"I, er, er - thank you."

[runningred]

"Sorry, I shouldn't tease." Jay smiles and goes back to scanning the horizon. Combat high makes him horny and he knows it.

"So are dragons frequent here?"

[fluffiest_archadian]

"Not frequent, no. The bandits probably pulled it in from afar in case of an attack," Sherral says. "That's twice in the past few months I've seen magick like that."

[runningred]

"Is that a bad sign? That bandits are reaching that far for back-up. Or did you just really scare them?"

[fluffiest_archadian]

"It may be naught," Sherral says, although he doesn't sound all that convinced. "The Westersand is a poor place for banditry, after all. If we hadn't gotten them, the Urutan-Yensa, Clan Centurio or the Rozarrian Empire would have done eventually."

[runningred]

Jay can hear the doubt in Sherral's voice but now isn't the time to press the point. Better to be on guard. "Oh well. Hopefully your guys can salvage some useful stuff from what we left."