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Sairaith ran, hard and fast, as far away from the roadside guardtowers of Saieth as she could. As a trained Gunslinger her endurance level and stamina and most importantly her speed was far beyond that of many of the lines in the Unholy Queen's guard, but she was injuried and after a few miles she was flagging. She hadn't been followed, but that didn't matter, Sairaith pushed herself to her limits, sprinting for as long as she could, jogging when she couldn't sprint anymore and then sprinting again to the Gates of Saieth. She had to get out of this nation and return to Sol Solis. She had to beg for an audience with the King. He had to know...had to know what she knew.

Blood dripped into her eye, blinding her for a moment with a stinging agony. She reached up to rub angrily at her eye, black gloves made of the threads of a living armor practically drinking the blood. She blinked, brilliant blue eyes clearing of tears for a moment, but the pain running through her body was getting worse by the second, every step that she took sent a jarring pain up her right side and she was convinced a rib was cracked, if not broken. There was a gash at the line where her vibrant red hair met her forehead and crimson was running down the side of her face, tracing over one high cheekbone. Her nose was bleeding as well, the blood running over her full upper lip and down the corners of her mouth.

By the time the portal out of Saieth was in sight, Sairaith's breaths were coming out in short pants and she was stumbling around like a drunk. Her black vest, made of the threads of a living armor, was open showing the gash in her loose white tunic and her bleeding stomach. She held one arm across her stomach, keeping her black glove on top of her wound, trying desperately to staunch the bleeding. Her vision wavered as adrenaline started to drain from her system and shock began to take hold. She used her other arm to pull her beige oilskin duster closer to her body as she suddenly began to feel very cold.

Hours before Sairaith had been probing around the Fortress Castle of Saieth, chasing down a whisper of a lead she had heard in a pub about the whereabouts of the Shadowmaster Rafale. Instead she had run across a more vital piece of information and in the process caught the eye of two of the queen's guards. Sairaith was a not a small woman at almost seven feet in height and weighing almost two hundred pounds of pure packed muscle, she could handle herself in the Unholy nation, but these two Shadowmasters towered over her by at least half a foot and weighed twice as much as she did. In a fight against them she was at the disadvantage, especially at close range. They had caught her off guard, chuckling coldly at her as she was bent over, tying one of her knee high back leather boots. One of them made a lewd comment about her body and made a point of standing so his groin was obnoxiously close her her rear end. Sairaith snarled softly, she hated men, most of them were dirty and disgusting creatures and these two were not helping to change her opinion on the matter. Since she was bent over the black lever action hunting rifle, crafted from the same living armor that made up the Shadowmasters armor, slung around her neck and hanging down in front of her instead of resting across her back. Sairaith reached up for it, wrapping her gloved fingers around the end of the stock, and placing a finger on the trigger. She paused for a long moment, listening to the Shadowmasters' horribly objectifying comments about her body, but snapped into action when she felt a clawed gauntlet trace down her back and touch her rear end.

Sairaith rolled forward, moving away from the shadowmaster, taking advantage of his slower speed to dash away from him, her booted feet practically dancing over the rocky terrain, but his friend had all ready moved into action, striking Sairaith in the ribs before she could dance far enough out of reach. The blow threw Sairaith to the side and away from the Shadowmasters, and as she hit the ground her forehead struck a rock. Dazed, it took Sairaith many precious seconds to recover enough to jump to her feet, and even when she did the agony that ran up her side from where the Shadowmaster struck her almost brought her to her knees. But Sairaith was used to pain and she bit her lip, focusing on that pain instead of the one threatening to fall her. She tasted blood and reached up to wipe under her nose, the first two fingers on her gloves were half missing and she could feel blood running under her nose. “ ********>” Sairaith muttered under her breath, punctuating each curse with a light skip across the terrain, taking herself higher and fruther away from the Shadowmasters.

“ Yes, I'm sure they would like to do that to you,” Laughed a cruel disembodied male voice, Sairaith growled under her breath warning the voice to shut up. The voice just laughed again before fading out of existance like a Cheshire smile. Sairaith hated that voice. It had been following her ever since the incident when she was eighteen and was kidnapped from her home in the desert Merseyr and always chose the most inopportune times to make the stupidest of comments.

“ Shut up, voice, I don't have time for you, ” she whisphered as she whipped around to face the two lumbering Shadowmasters. They were now over one hundred yards away from her, they wouldn't be a threat to her anymore unless they chose to alert their friends at other guardposts. She raised her hunting rifle, nestling the stock of the rifle against her shoulder. She tipped her black rodeo hat up by the brim so she could rest her cheek along the stock of the rifle and take aim at the Shadowmasters. Sairaith squeezed the trigger and the bullet streaked through the air, striking the first Shadowmaster in the center of his helmet, the armor there retreating away from the spot where the bullet hit. She pulled the level down on the rifle, locking a new shot into place taking aim and firing in the few seconds while the armor writhed and tried to spit the first bullet out, the second bullet struck exactly where the first one did, driving the bullet further into the Shadowmasters head. Sairaith didn't take the time to watch the Shadowmaster fall, instead she turned on her heel and started to climb down the mountain face.

Or at least...that had been the plan, instead she slipped on loose rocks and slid down the other side of the small rock outcropping that she had been standing on. She hit the bottom with a small shriek, landing unceromoniously on her butt. Sairaith whimpered and rubbed her rear, but she didn't have much time to feel sorry for herself, the battle roar of the Shadowmaster echoed through the rocky path, screaming a warning that he intended to kill her. Sairaith didn't waste another second, she sprinted at her top speed as far away from the Shadowmaster as she could towards the gates of Saieth.

Which where within her sights, only a few hundred feet more. But it was getting colder and no matter how close Sairaith pulled her duster to her body she couldn't fend it off. The coldness was coming from within, along with this horrible need to be sick, a result of the shock she was suddenly finding herself in. But Sairaith pushed herself harder, she had to get to Sol Solis and demand andience with the king.

Then she was in front of the gates, the bright white portal was blinding, but she closed her eyes and ignored it. She just had to keep walking forward and she'd be through one portal and then keep walking and she'd be through the other portal. Saithraith stumbled, struggling to put one leather encased leg in front of the other. As she stepped through the portal she heard the Shadowmaster's battlecry again, a glance over her shoulder proved that the Shadowmaster had caught up to her, she had been too slow in her escape. But he wouldn't follow her through the portal. That would be insane.

Her steps slowed down as she passed through the portal, setting each foot solidly down on the ground before resting her weight on it. One foot in front of the the other. That's all that mattered, getting one foot in front of the other. That and telling the King what she learned.

Sairaith turned back to push her way through the portal and into the black abyss beyond. The chamber between the two portals was dark enough to clear her vision, she blinked a few times to allow her eyesight to adjust to the sudden darkness. When she looked up the portal to Sol Solis was right in front of her, and as she glanced back the Shadowmaster was right behind her. Sairaith summoned up her last dregs of adrenaline and energy and launched herself through the portal to Sol Solis.

She crashed through to the other side. She struck the white ground of Sol Solis on her good side, protecting both her ribs and the hunting rifle slung across her back. The combination of the speed and the power of the portal caused her to skid across the ground on that side. Sairaith screamed as the skid caused the wound across her stomach to open up more. She whimpered and curled into a fetal position, willing herself to stop hurting so she could get to her feet and demand an audience with the King. She half expected a series of people to come running towards her and help her to her feet, rush her to the healer's temple outside the Fortress Castle's wall. But no one came. Instead after a few long seconds a series of screams rose up through the crowds. Sairaith struggled to lift her head and instantly her sunkissed skin paled. The Shadowmaster had followed her throught the portal and his battle roar echoed through the land surrounding the gates.

Sairaith rolled into a sitting position and scrambled away away from the Shadowmaster like a crab. But her blood covred glove slipped and Sairaith fell onto her back, wincing as her hunting rifle cut into her back. She saw a few people reach for their weapons, but the Shadowmaster flailed his arm and knocked several of them to the ground before focusing on her. “ Oh....s**t...” She growled under her breath as her eyes widened in panic. She scrambled for the two six shooters at her hips and aimed for an artistic crack in the Shadowmasters armor, cursing herself for not replacing the bullets in the six shooter with flash bullets. At least she'd had the foresight to c**k the hammers back on the pistols.

She fired, nimble trigger finger allowed her to rapidly fire all twelve shots, her perfect aim allowing six of the bullets to pierce into the cracks in the armor and six more to pierce those bullets, forcing the first set of bullets into the skin of the Shadowmaster. He screamed as the pain of his skin breaking hit him, but he didn't fall. Instead the pain seemed to make him more angry. Sairaith cursed and holsted her pistols, reaching instead for her rifle, whipping it off her back and taking aim, she fired one shot and then two, first bullet piercing the second, but even that wasn't enough. With a curse Sairaith fumbled for ammunition trying to reload her rifle before the Shadowmaster made his way over to her, or worse killed someone.
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...and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

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Sairaith fumbled with her rifle, completely oblivious to the giant man in white armor moving to her aid. She didn’t glance up until he was straddling her prone form. She flinched and shifted away from him, but didn’t make any hostile move towards him, while Sairaith wasn’t particularly fond of men, she wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t accept one as an ally. She whimpered in pain, cursing herself for scuttling back so quickly. Adrenaline had left her system and all she could feel now was the massive pain running up her side. Her rib was definitely fractured, not broken – thank Maegira – but definitely fractured. Fractured meant that she didn’t have to worry about the rib piercing a lung. She coughed and blood gurgled up and dripped down her lips. She was sure she looked like a mess, but that didn’t matter. She had to find a way to get to the king before she either passed out or her wounds killed her.

Sairaith’s breathing shortened as she strained to reach her rifle, which lay on the ground beside her. Her fingers just barely reached and she struggled to pull the rifle closer to her body. A small grunt of triumph followed by one of pain escaped her lips as she finally managed to pull the rifle to herself and pick it up. She resumed loading it, ignoring the sudden flash of light in front of her, in fact she barely registered it, her eyes adjusting to the change before it could affect her. She did however look up in shock as the huge body of the Shadowmaster thudded to the ground and shook the square. Sairaith’s hands froze and her mouth worked as she tried to force sound to come out, but shock had frozen her vocal chords. She managed to squeak in undignified protest as her rifle was ripped from her hands and she was suddenly lifted up in the stranger’s arms. “ Oi! Who the hell d’ye think ye are…hey! Hey you, put meh down! Where the feck are ye takin’ meh?!” Sairaith struggled some in his arms, but the pain was too great and tears brimmed in her eyes as she cried out in self inflicted agony. The man did not let go of her, Sairaith was almost tempted to be impressed. She was not a small woman, both height and weight making it difficult for people to be able to lift her, however this man towered over her and carried her like she didn’t weigh a thing. He was gentle though, doing his best not to jar her as he took long strides through the square towards the Fortress Castle, his movements weren’t particularly fast, but his legs were long and he covered the distance in what felt like no time.

Her eyes threatened to close, but she shook her head, widening her eyes and willing them to remain open. She trained the brilliant blue orbs on the man carrying her and gave him her best glare. “ I thankee sai for ye concern….but…” She sucked in a breath as a movement jarred the wound on her stomach, “ But…my life is nae important….I have…have tae speak with the king…on a matter of great import. Please…I can walk on meh own.” Her voice cracked at her last words and she winced as a sudden sharp spike of pain rose up through the constant throbbing pain that was her body’s current state. “ Please sai…I need tae request an audience with the king. The matter is worth more than meh own life….I cannae risk dying without tellin’ him...” Sairaith trailed off , her words becoming a series of babbling nonsense as shock threaten to thrown her into unconsciousness. She was getting paler by the second and her body was racked cold that her bloodstained duster offered her no protection from. This cold came from within, like death creeping up on her. She lifted a black gloved hand to punch uselessly at the man’s armor, but all she managed to do was drop her hand against him. Her vision wavered and she curled closer to him like she was seeking protection from her pain. Her hand clenched into a useless fist and she bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming in agony. She had to convince the man to put her down or take her to the king or something….but she was too far gone to form words. All she could do was instinctively press herself against the man, seeking out the warm that his armor seemed to radiate around her.
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...and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

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Sairaith paled at her oversight. " Nae, M'liege, I haven't yet. There hasn't exactly been any toime." A blush tinged her cheeks and she drew one of her pistols and loaded it. Her fingers fumbled with the rounds and she cursed silently at herself for being so clumsy. Somehow she managed to force the rounds into their chambers and reholstered her weapons. She couldn't look at Tabarias as she pulled the rifle from her back and she quickly busied herself with making sure the rifle was still loaded from the fight with the Shadowmaster.

She slung the rifle back across her back and readjusted her duster. " Weapons are loaded, M'liege, an' I'm alroight for supplies if yeh are. I travel loight, but I can carry whatever yeh need me tae. " She chewed her lip and looked away from him, wrapping an arm gently across her ribs, still trying to get used to the bandages there.