Vega- Running

Vega’s feet danced along the rain-slicked cobbles, his balance his greatest weapon as eight Omiri horsemen chased him down. Around him the city was sacked, flames visible on high in the Tall Quarter, while the harbor ahead was beginning to fill with Bastian warships. The bay was alive with smaller vessels rowing toward the shore from the anchored armada, each boat loaded with men-at-arms.

Two spears bounced off the street at his feet, reminding the Sharklord to change direction occasionally. He’d remained in human form so as not to attract attention; a shifted therian would draw a crowd for all the wrong reasons. Regardless, the horsemen had found him and weren’t giving up the chase. He left behind him a burning fish market in the Low Quarter. Ahead he could see the pierhead, and beyond that the Maelstrom anchored away out to sea, her sails unfurling, ready to be off. "Faster, you old fish, faster!"

B2 P5 C7