[Complete] the Mana-Wilds (A Golarionite Odyssey) #2: Dreams of Water

Chapter 8

Eventide Bridge, was set unto a roaring blaze not by the eponymous dusk that would grace the end of the day upon the western horizon, but through the discordant pandemonium of battle. But stiffened by confidence and the hurried agency to rescue one of their own. The remnants of the Katheer's Mujahadeen of Sarenrae and their Arizona Desert Ranger allies contest for power upon the bridge against the marauding Filth Drinkers and their Abyssal pedagogues. Shouts, Magicks and Gunfire traded for blood, blows and tears as the Mujahadeen made their careful approach from their side of the crossing. The objective, cross Sunset Bridge and liberate the Temple of Dawn's Grace from the Demon Lord Xoveron's poisonous clutches.

The hour was dark, with the cold gale winds from the sea brushing along the city, twisting step, debris and typhoon-tout paranoia throughout.

The Sarenites scrambled around the decomposing remains of their city for shelter as their assault was met with the barrage of heavy turret fire. Defenses set up upon the choke point that stopped their consecrated march through the city dead on its tracks. Despite the heavy bombardment of spell and arrows from the Mujahadeen, the Filth Drinkers defending the bridge remain staunch in its bastille stand.

"We cannot get past that ballista of theirs! It is shielded." High Priestess Kamala tucked her head as low as she could from the gun fire.

"We ought'a shave off those blighters off of that Puckle Gun or this attack is gonna be a Wash!" Merizi suggested.

"Browning... Ehm-Two Browning!" David scowled a pinched expression as he dove to a half-demolished brick wall for cover. His annoyance was drowned by the bewailing clamors around him.

"Is there no other way around these fiends?" Kamala asked David.

"Unless you wanna go swimming in shit water below. Be my guess..." David gritted his teeth much to the High Priestess equivocal dismay. "Kid, how far can you throw one of those bombs from here?" the Ranger turned to hi shaken foot Aasimar Alchemist. Remembering his rather dexterous throwing arm from back when he had confronted the Sandstorm's Marauders.

"Das'sabout sixty or so feet away from me." Tomos aimed his thumb to deduce the distance.

"Can you throw that far!?" David questioned, not beating around the bush of his companion's ability.

"I-I g-g-guess so..." the Aasimar restlessly cleared his throat. He picked up a bundle of his Alchemical Bombs from his satchel and readies to throw them.

With all his might, or best the might an erudite scholar who even still cometh from a martial sect of his world. One, Two, Three, vials of acidic chemicals peppered the defenders, all of which splashed they bites upon the Filth Drinkers. However, the distance was to great for such a young Alchemists hands to pitch from so far. Tomos' bombs merely being an dogged annoyance to the bridges defenders than a faithful attempt to flush them out.

"An old armless whaler can throw better than your soddin' jelly arms!" Merizi cussed as she grabbed hold of one of the Alchemist Bombs from the Aasimar's satchel and attempted to throw her lot into the fire.

The bomb merely made half the distance Tomos shortest throw had accomplished much to the Azarketi's embarrassment.

"And YOU can do better than... that?!" nerves pulsated from Tomos brow as he pulled away his satchel closer to himself.

"Damnit kid, keep trying!" David shook his head.

Frustration amongst the Rangers and Mujahadiin fermented as their assault was bogged down by the bridge's unwavering defenses.

No worse than to see the prize oh so seeked for by the Sarenites of their desecrated temple than the Bard Navideh herself. She knew that these villains would only pick them apart as time passes from where they stood. They still need to cross the bridge yes, but not when the turret blasts any attempt of a crossing from their front. But luckily, the coy Bard has a trick up her sleeve. Upon her many travels, she would never have gone far to where she is now without such tricks she could strum up from the strings of her Mandolin. Stomping her foot impatiently, she knelt to David behind his should and gently nudged lugged the threads of his shirt.