Irredeemable

Thief

It hadn't been long since they left the town, maybe an hour or two, but something was wrong. They had been noticing strange things throughout their trek, and although they hoped it was nothing, their instinct said otherwise. They kept one hand firmly on their nail for the whole day.

As much as they would have preferred to keep walking, perhaps tiring out whoever, or whatever, was following them, they finally had to stop for a moment. They hadn't wanted to draw attention to it in town, but Jagg had managed to land a glancing blow in the fight. They had decided to walk a bit past the town to heal, but kept walking when they thought someone was following them. Only now did they realize how big of a mistake that truly was. Worse yet, they had no soul left.

Gravel set up camp for the night. They would have to use the medical supplies they had bought. They weren't quite sure how to use them, so it took them a few hours to get anywhere. It didn't help that they were constantly scanning the area for any sign of their potential stalker. As they looked down at the wound, working to stitch it back together, at least temporarily, they heard footsteps.

The steps grew quicker. They were running. They were getting closer. Gravel barely had time to acknowledge the sound, reaching for their nail, before being slammed into from behind. They hit the ground hard, landing directly on the wound.

What threw them off, was that they weren't hit by a bug. They were hit by a bola. With the ropes wrapped around them and their nail a few feet away, there wasn't much they could do. As they fought the pain and tried to worm their way to their nail, they heard the attacker speak.

"Still fighting, huh?"

They heard as the attacker approached, and she continued talking.

"You know you've lost. Now stop squirming so we can do this the easy way."

Despite Gravel's best efforts, their pouch was removed. The bandit continued to rummage through it, talking to herself as she did.

"Let's see... nope. That's not it. Well that might be helpful. No. Where is this thing?"

There was only one thing she could be looking for: the kingsoul. It was still on them and they hoped she wouldn't figure that out before it finished restoring their soul. She stopped looking through the bag.

"Look, pal, you don't seem dumb. You know what I'm looking for. You tell me where it is and I'll go."

She pulled the vessel up into a sitting position and pointed them at the tent. Finally they could see their attacker. She was a young mantis, just out of the petra state from the looks of things. She wielded twin daggers, which were oddly short, even for knives.

"Is it in the tent? Come on, I know you can shake your head, at least."

They did their best to neither nod or shake their head. Going on a wild mossfly chase might anger her, but saying no would make her move on to other targets. And so, they stubbornly refused to do anything.

She sighed, accepting that her captive wouldn't cooperate.

"You're not gonna help, are you? I'm gonna check the tent. You wait here."

Alone, Gravel wondered what was taking so long for the soul to build up. And it took up a lot of notches they could have used. It could at least be decent. Shortly, the mantis returned from Gravel's tent.

"Ok. It wasn't in the bag. It wasn't in the tent. Where are you hiding thi-"

She stopped mid sentence, in thought. She then hit her own face.

"It's on you, isn't it?"

They had enough soul. Focusing on the wound, they felt the soul work its way over, healing everything it touched. Yet, there was more. The area of their focus had a strange effect on the objects in their immediate vicinity; it made them defy gravity. The ropes of the bola were no different. As they finished healing, the ropes dropped to the ground around them.