Chapter Six: Moira

SIX

Taoya flew over Roan feet first. The boots the big man wore were armored and they shattered the skeleton guard instantly, sending it in scattered pieces as Taoya landed on his back. For a big man, he could move nimbly. He rolled into a backward somersault and sprung to his feet, fists held up in a defensive position.

Hands slid under Roan’s arms and dragged him back as energy started to build around Taoya as the giant held the corridor. Roan was exhausted, the last spurt of energy having sapped him of what was left of his energy to fight. The spirit might be willing, but the flesh was torn and bleeding.

“Let Taoya do what he does best,” a woman’s voice whispered in his ear as he struggled to sit upright. He struggled to turn around to see who was aiding him, the hands dragging him back not relenting for a moment. He finally had to crane his neck back to get a glimpse of her.

She was a broad woman dressed in emerald robes so dark they bordered on black. Short black hair was in a spiky mess, the hairstyle ruined by sweat and dirt while her eyes were a magnificent magenta. She gave a pointed grin at him as she continued to haul him around like a sack of laundry.

“I’m Moira. You?”

“Roan.” The word came out in a rasp as his dry throat rebelled against him. He lowered his head and looked back to see that a gap of ten yards now separated them from Taoya, the man refusing to move as he held the line. Piles of bones were filling up the corridor as he dismantled every foe.

“That’s a pretty name. I think it’s a name for a horse though.” Moira laughed and it was a cackly sound as she pushed him against a wall and came around to stare at him. They were in between shelves of the dead and the short, broad shouldered woman stooped over him, hands dancing over his bandages as a frown started to form.

“Those bandages aren’t doing shit for you. Probably infecting your wounds if I’m honest. Blood loss, early signs of shock, maybe a concussion,” Moira murmured to herself as she tilted Roan’s head back and leaned in close to stare at him eye-to-eye.

Her touch was clinical, practical, and painful. His wounds ached as she pulled the sticky bandages away, clots of dried blood peeling at his skin as her frown deepened. She clucked her tongue and glanced to the side where the line was slowly moving forward.

“We don’t have water or food. At least I don’t think we do. That wasn’t one of the options the rabbit offered. Which means if there’s any chance of completing this level, we must be close to the saferoom. Your fighting is done for the day though. Harris! Delaney! Both of you go and help Taoya!” Moira ordered and two green robed fighters fought their way carefully through the crowd to get back to the end of the line. The duo carried long handled axes identical to the ones that Roan had.

“We’ll carry you to the front with the other wounded, hold on,” Moira said as she slid his arm over her shoulders and stood. The height difference made it awkward, but Roan’s legs weren’t cooperating well in helping him stand straight.

Stolen story; please report.

Moira proceeded to berate and cuss out anyone who stood in the way. When there was a skeletal limb in the way she ordered those around her to kill the sleeping skeleton, two or even three people leaping into the grave to kill the skeleton before it could rise.