Slowly, you take out the pendant. It's such a small weight, but it's never felt heavier. You set it in Dawn's outstretched hand. She lets out a long, long breath. "Thank you," she says, simply.
Her eyes latch onto a figure that you can't currently see. "Yes... I do... The latter." Dawn closes her eyes.
She almost immediately falls to her knees, right there in the city street. You earn a couple of curious stares, but no other attention. Shakily, Dawn holds out the pendant for you. A coil of worry you hadn't even acknowledged until then untwists. You take the pendant back.
Your nose explodes with pain.
You stumble back, and meet Dawn's horrified gaze... and see her bloody hand. It's a long, horrible moment before you convince yourself that your nose isn't broken, she isn't going to follow up, and you will be all right.
You know what happened, of course "I'm not going to do that again," Ant's voice says in your head, "but you deserved that. A commander sends his people into danger. A leader goes first. People may listen to one, but they will die for the other. Learn that well."
Now you really are attracting stares. You're bleeding from your nose, Dawn's still on her knees, and you can hear Ant's laughter, sounding stronger than ever before. "Ye gods, that feels great!" Dawn's hand flaps around as Ant runs her arm through its full range of motion. "You have no idea how cooped-up I've been!"
"W-we should probably get out of the street," you tell Dawn, trying to staunch the blood flow. She nods. You help her to her feet, slinging her free hand around your shoulder to support her weight as her other arm contorts pointlessly under Ant's exuberant direction.
You find a small park a few minutes later and set Dawn down under a tree, ignoring the crowd at the far end of the park. Her arm's stopped, apparently timed out for the day. You both take a moment to check up on each other, before Dawn is recovered enough to manage anything more than the niceties. Finally, though, she broaches the subject. "Sorry, boss, for punching you."
A tentative check tells you that he bleeding's mostly stopped. "Well, it was't exactly you."
"If I hadn't... hadn't... I wouldn't've..." Dawn gives up, shrugging.
"I hope you learned something from my pain." It's a feeble joke, but Dawn dutifully cracks a smile.
"I did learn something," Dawn says. "Ant offered to tell me or let me experience its insights and thoughts, as directly as possible. It was a bit overwhelming. I... don't have quite the vocabulary, but I'll do my best to tell you what I learned." You nod, and she continues. "Think of our souls as... a sort of sail. They gather a wind of... of strength or something from the flow of the world's energies. A bigger 'sail' lets you gather more of that wind, and use it for magic or secret techniques or clairvoyance or whatever. They don't exactly get pushed, normally, but rather just catch and gather that strength.
"The attack that triggered the Great Dying basically briefly poisoned that wind. Not long. A heartbeat or so, before the normal flow of energy scoured it away and it was replenished with normal energy. During that moment, rather than empowering, it just pushed. So a powerful sail let it push the soul out of the body." She snaps her fingers. "Instant, silent death from no visible cause. Those of us who survived, we did so because we were too weak to affect. So... that's it. That's what happened. Someone deployed a weapon that our champions were too strong to resist."
"So you're sure it was an attack?"
"Well... it doesn't seem like an accident or natural disaster? It's never happened before. Ant wasn't sure where it came from, or how far it could have reached beyond 'really far', or if it could be directed in a line or if it would expand in every direction..."
"Can we defend against it? Is it going to happen again?"
"Um..." Dawn colors slightly, only just barely visible on her tanned skin. She didn't get that. She only retained what interested her.
Ant appears with a long-suffering sigh, this time to both of you. "Yes, of course you can defend against it, through at least two ways. One is that layered sanctums may last long enough for the attack to pass... this is what happened to me. The outer layers of my prison broke, but it lasted long enough to protect the inward-facing layers and me, as well. Magic items are basically artificial souls that generate a consistent effect without a mind behind it, so they're just as vulnerable, or as useful to shelter in. The other way... well, to use Dawn's charming and quite weird analogy, it would be to let the 'sail' flap free for a moment. Less than a heartbeat, as she said. Any hedge witch or pissant village hero could defend against it by simply letting go their powers and not catching that 'wind' for a moment. It wouldn't be more than day's training to ready a mental tool to detect the oncoming poison and stop for the necessary instant. It's just that no one ever needed to before. I'll show you how whenever you want, for free."
"You're back to being awfully helpful for someone who just punched me." You check your nose again, less gingerly.
"Take it as a learning experience. I gain from offering this, you know. People don't gain power and then not use it. You'll only get in more scrapes if you feel confident enough to build up your personal power. Oh, and as far as I know? No reason it had to be stuck tuned at this level. Maybe next time they fire it off it only affects great gods... maybe they put enough juice in that it kills every man, woman, and animal stronger than a toddler. Enjoy your day; I'm out." Ant gives a jaunty wave and disappears.
You shiver.
Before you can compose yourself, the crowd you had mostly tuned out forcefully impresses itself on you. You realize that, while you were having your private chat, someone's been whipping up the crowd. You're too far away to get all the details, especially over the roar of the mass, but it seems like in the last minute or so it's turned vicious. You make out "Regency Council" spat in a tone of distaste, some accusations of something, and a demand that something be given or else be taken by force.
Here and there in the crowd, you hear roars of acknowledgement, which are then re-echoed by other people. There's a surge, almost suddenly. The crowd has gotten riled up enough that it's turning into something of a mob, and the mob seems to have decided on a target that's on the far side of you and Dawn.
You start trying to scan the ways out, knowing that the last thing you want here is to be swept up in this... but it seems that the mob was not entirely unexpected. There are armed men, most with large shields, who are starting to congregate, with a "planning to bust heads" expression on their faces. Some are wearing the Regency Council purple, most aren't... but you don't see any wearing gold cloth right now. They're entirely missing. That's something you note almost in passing, though. You're actually looking for an easy path out, but none presents itself. Paths out are sealed, and it looks like there's going to be a fight between the mob and the guards.
You're stuck between them, of course.
One sharp-eyed man stands out in front of the guardsmen. His hands are empty, and he has a purple cloth worn as a headband. He performs a couple of warm-up stretches... then suddenly staggers like he's been drinking entirely too much. Which isn't too far from true, you realize: he must be one of the Viper's Kiss heroes, and it looks like he's here as an enforcer.
That direction is absolutely the last way you want to go. Even without a weapon, he's going to be incredibly dangerous. You scan for a different route, perhaps a less-protected side alley you can slip down as the crowd begins to reach your area. Nothing seems promising. You're not going to get out without a fight.
[] Defend yourself as minimally as possible as you escape. You risk injury, but you'll attract minimal attention.
[] Fight aggressively as you escape. If someone's going to get hurt, you don't want to let it be you.
[] Shout some derogatory slogan and try to get some of the mob to support you, so you'll have more weight to break out of the cordon.
