We can have another lil preview as a treat. Excerpt from the first chapter of "The Blameless Society". It's been a rough week, have a slice of action and a shot of whump.
Orym was already on stage in front of the injured dancer, shield at the ready to deflect any more incoming projectiles. Ashton took their place in front of the stage, forcing the crowd back enough so that Dorian could follow Orym to tend to the wounded.
A man at the front of the crown spat on Ashton. They grinned, even as the spittle slid down the lapel of their jacket, and slammed their head forward to catch the man on the bridge of his nose. He fell back, wailing, blood streaming down his face.
"Anyone else wanna start something?" Ashton demanded. They heard something ping off Orym's shield, Dorian quietly assuring the injured dancer that she'd be just fine, screams from the wings where Laudna had unleashed her darker form to keep their exit clear.
They twirled their hammer as they stared around at the mob, who were thinning out now that the innocent theater-goers that had been caught in the cross-fire were fleeing. The ringleaders were easier to pick out now. They didn't seem to be wearing any sort of uniform, dressing in everything from high-class finery to rags. But they were the ones still fighting toward the stage, still pulling out rocks and bottles...and crossbows.
Ashton clocked one...two...five that they could see. All leveled toward the stage, toward the dancers and their friends.
"Fuck!" They dropped to one knee automatically as the crossbows were fired. There were too many of them...had to get inside the range, take them out before they could reload.
The shots all went over their head. Ashton gritted their teeth and pushed themselves back up to their feet, feeling the thrum of Chaos running through their hands into the hammer's shaft. "Big mistake."
"Orym!" Dorian's panicked voice brought Ashton's head around. Orym had sunk to one knee, leaning against his shield. Two crossbow bolts were sticking out of his chest, near the shoulder. As Ashton stared another bolt shot past their ear, and Orym barely brought the shield around to keep it from hitting the dancer behind him.
The movement cost him as another bolt zipped by, catching the outside of his hip and sending him down. Dorian caught him just as Orym's eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp... and then Chetney was there, howling in rage, pulling attention away from their wounded friend. The smell of ozone and decay heralded Laudna and Imogen's counterattack as they started targeting the bowmen, and Ashton saw Fearne surge up out of the crowd like a specter out of a box to grab one of the assailants, her hands already smoking where they touched the dark leather.
Ashton whirled back, letting their rage build as they charged Fucker #1, who was having trouble reloading his crossbow. "Changed my mind," they snarled as the world around them seemed to slow, flickering with shadows and after images, hammer raised over their head. "That was your last mistake."