UPDATED WEEKLY: Ishta Dawnstar was once a renowned Monster Hunter and Vampire Slayer from the enigmatic Xindite race in the Aglarond region of Faerûn. Her skills with sword and bow were as terrifying as her ferocity in battle, and Undead up and down...
"Why in the Nine Hells am I not dead..." Ishta sighed, her voice full of disbelief. She rubbed her bruised elbow, wincing slightly as she gazed down at the unconscious form of Shadowheart.
Behind her, the still-burning wreck of the Nautiloid cast a sinister red glow over the beach where she had just woken up. Gigantic, pulsing tentacles surrounded them, two of which formed an arch above her head. Staring at the giant suckers, Ishta had to repress a sudden craving for calamari.
Gods, your brain is weird sometimes, Ishta, she thought, a wry smile tugging at her lips despite the chaos.
The beach was a scene of utter devastation. The sickening smell of burnt flesh mingled with woodsmoke from still burning trees. Smoke curled upwards in lazy spirals, painting the dawn sky with streaks of black.
The distant cries of hawks, usually a calming sound, now seemed eerie and out of place amid the destruction.
Turning her focus back to Shadowheart, Ishta felt a twinge of concern. She knelt beside her, and began to visually inspect her for any injuries. Shadowheart's dark hair was matted with sand and blood, but as far as she could tell there were no major wounds on her head.
Ishta's eyes were drawn to a peculiar metal object clasped in the Cleric's hand. She briefly considered taking it from her, curiosity piqued, but decided to leave it alone. It felt wrong to take advantage of her in such a state.
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That decision turned out to be a wise one. As Ishta reached out to check her pulse, Shadowheart's eyes suddenly fluttered open. She gasped and sat up abruptly, her eyes wide with confusion and suspicion.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice tinged with mistrust.
Ishta quickly pulled her hands back, holding them up in a placating gesture. "Just checking to see if you had anything worth pinching," she joked, trying to lighten the mood with a mischievous smile.
Shadowheart stared at her blankly for a moment before her expression softened slightly. "Well, that's honest of you. Don't do it again—I'll give you a pass this time, considering I owe you my life."
Ishta laughed softly, shaking her head. "I was actually checking you for injuries, but you seem to be as surprisingly unscathed as I am. I don't suppose you have any idea how we managed that? I, for one, have no idea how I survived a fall from several hundred feet in the air, even if the beach is really soft here," she observed, running a handful of white sand through her fingers.
The grains sifted through her hand like the fleeting memories of the crash, each one slipping away before she could fully grasp it. The eerie sounds of their surroundings added to the surreal atmosphere. The gentle sound of flowing water was overshadowed by strange, loud noises.
It sounded like the groans of a huge, wounded animal mixed with the metallic creaking of broken machinery. Ishta's senses were on high alert, every unfamiliar sound making her twitch slightly.
