“Typically, when a patrol is sent out to escort a diplomat, they can handle themselves!”
Amircia winced, took a moment to reload her pistol, and took aim at the—eyes? hands?—eye-hands of the blood painter closest to her. “Typically, our patrols don’t get surrounded by aberrations.” A clean shot straight through the appendage, and she was already moving in with her machete to sever the wounded limb.
Rahaksenwe snorted, adjusting her hold on her spider gun. She took a breath in time with the gun’s pulsing and fired, covering another blood painter in webbing. Taking advantage of the shrieking creature’s immobilization, she moved closer, stomping on its torso, and fired the poison shot right into its face. “It’s just interesting to me that you didn’t need an escort into Port Valen, but you felt I needed an escort into Jolizpan. On your left!”
“And clearly I was correct!” Amircia turned in time to catch the blasted aberration’s teeth around her blade instead of her shoulder. A muttered prayer under her breath as she positioned her pistol alongside the machete, eliminating another blood painter with a shot before it could attempt to make art out of her. She spun around, aiming at another one of the creatures before it could reach Rahaksenwe and swearing when she heard the audible click of her pistol jamming. “Another one!”
“Got it!” Rahaksenwe took a half-step back, adjusting the spider gun once more to fire webbing at the blood painter’s feet, causing it to trip and stumble across the tree roots.
Amircia took advantage of the creature’s clumsiness, finishing it off with her machete before taking a moment to catch her breath and look around. “Is this... all of them?”
“Seems like it, though I have been wrong before.” Rahaksenwe leaned against a tree and slid into a sitting position. She let out a breath and returned her spider gun to its proper place on her back. “You did well, thank you,” she said softly, feeling her connection to the creature she’d made the weapon from.
Illustration by Will O’Brien from Pathfinder Guns & Gears
“Are you hurt?” Amircia looked the other woman over, concerned about her well-being and wanting to be on the move as quickly as possible.
Rahaksenwe shook her head, getting to her feet. “No, thank Desna. They caught your patrol by surprise, but by the time they’d revealed themselves I was already armed and ready. How far until the city?”
“A little less than a day. Strange that they would attack so close to the city and not come after you when you were alone.” Amircia nudged one of the bags of the blood painters and frowned, shaking her head. “Strange that they’re here at all, really.”
“Perhaps the beauty of the skyline drew them here.” Rahaksenwe gestured to a small, clear space in the trees. “Through here you can see the city outline against the mountains. It took my breath away. Maybe they wanted to make it theirs, too.”
Amircia followed her to the clearing and smiled a bit, looking at the outline of Jolizpan. “Maybe.” She glanced back at the scene they had left behind and grew somber. “We should be on the move. I don’t want to attract any other creatures and I’ll need to organize a larger, better trained patrol to come back for our soldiers.”
Rahaksenwe nodded solemnly, adjusting her pack and gesturing for Amircia to lead the way. “Remember, I am not as sure-footed as you. Let an old woman keep up.” She chuckled softly at Amircia’s snort and followed her lead.
“Your gun.” Amircia commented after they’d walked for some time. “It’s a beast gun.” She glanced sideways at Rahaksenwe, her statement just as much a question as it was a declaration.
“Correct. I inherited this one from my grandmother.” Rahaksenwe unholstered her spider gun, feeling it grow warm to her touch as the magic activated. “She was there to see me off on my hunt to find the ogre spider and she was there to welcome me back with herbs and soup when I returned with the components needed.” She smiled a bit at the memory before holstering the gun once more.
“So, she was also one to scope the battlefield before firing a single shot?” Amircia asked, adjusting her headdress after ducking beneath a swinging branch.
Rahaksenwe nodded, wiping sweat from her forehead. “She was. She taught me to look and listen before firing and to make sure that I kept myself at advantage. Not like my nephew, who spends all year with his screech shooter that he built from a snowy owlbear. He rolls into town like he’s never seen an angry auntie before!”
“Did your grandmother oversee his ritual, too?” Amircia asked curiously, using her machete to clear the path before them. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and she didn’t like the odd silence that had fallen over the jungle along with the storm clouds overhead. It felt like the creatures in the jungle, usually so chatty and busy before a storm, were preparing for something big.
“No.” Rahaksenwe sighed, shaking her head. “She’d already left us by the time he was old enough to hunt on his own. I oversaw his ritual. I’m proud of him, even if he is too cocky for his own good. Makes sense his gun chose him.”
Amircia chuckled before pausing and tilting her head. She held an arm out, stopping Rahaksenwe in her tracks. “Do you hear that?”
“The thunder?”
Amircia shook her head, earrings clinking softly. “The screaming. Sounds like a drake of some kind.”
Rahaksenwe took a second to listen before frowning and taking out her spider gun. “Do you have more bullets?”
“I always have more bullets. Do you have more energy?”
Rahaksenwe cracked a smile, dropping her pack and squaring up alongside Amircia as the sound of crashing foliage and thundering footsteps drew close. “I always have more energy for a good hunt. Lead the way, old friend.”
About The Author
Shay Snow is an agender Native American (Caddo and Swampy Cree) tabletop freelance author and editor. They’ve contributed to Pathfinder, Starfinder, and Coyote & Crow as an author, editor, playtester, and all-around yeller at dice. When they’re not playing or writing tabletop games, they can be found playing video games or talking about Indigenous issues on social media. They currently live on unceded Caddo and Wichita land in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex with their Lakota spouse, two dogs, and terrible, horrible cat. You can find them on Twitter @spellsinsugar and keep up with their upcoming projects through their website, https://shayjay.carrd.co/.
About Tales of Lost Omens
The Tales of Lost Omens series of web-based flash fiction provides an exciting glimpse into Pathfinder’s Age of Lost Omens setting. Written by some of the most celebrated authors in tie-in gaming fiction and including Paizo’s Pathfinder Tales line of novels and short fiction, the Tales of Lost Omens series promises to explore the characters, deities, history, locations, and organizations of the Pathfinder setting with engaging stories to inspire Game Masters and players alike.
