08-27-2015, 09:12 AM
Drake vaulted over the sides of the shuddering transport that had delivered them to this...well...it was definitely a fortress. A grey stoned, bar-windowed, embattled fortress. If you spoke to some kid on the street, and asked them to draw you a picture of a fortress in the middle of a lava lake, this is what they would draw you. Oh, and the turtle-dudes. How had Drake failed to mention them? They were utterly adorable, especially when they were trying to be threatening and push him around.
The second Drake had disembarked from the skiff, a pair of red-shelled koopas had marched up to him and escorted him inside. Never mind the fact that they hardly even came up to his hip, but their spears didn't even look that sharp. No wonder they were looking for help dispatching these bandits...whoever they were.
The interior of the fortress was nice enough. Mostly just more grey stone walls and the occasional structurally superfluous lava pit, but it was more comfortable than the searing atmosphere of the Steppes themselves. Drake followed Miranda closely, trying to get a read on the enigmatic woman. She wore a heavy looking cloak, which concealed most of her movements, as well as any weapon she was carrying. The metal face mask that covered only her mouth intrigued the smuggler as well. She occasionally reached up and ran her finger along its rim, where it touched skin. Apparently it was not very comfortable.
Drake had no idea where those other two yahoos were. Finding a parking spot or something, probably. For now, Drake just kept his otherwise loose-cannon yap shut and followed the procession deeper into the, eh, literal fortress.
The second Drake had disembarked from the skiff, a pair of red-shelled koopas had marched up to him and escorted him inside. Never mind the fact that they hardly even came up to his hip, but their spears didn't even look that sharp. No wonder they were looking for help dispatching these bandits...whoever they were.
The interior of the fortress was nice enough. Mostly just more grey stone walls and the occasional structurally superfluous lava pit, but it was more comfortable than the searing atmosphere of the Steppes themselves. Drake followed Miranda closely, trying to get a read on the enigmatic woman. She wore a heavy looking cloak, which concealed most of her movements, as well as any weapon she was carrying. The metal face mask that covered only her mouth intrigued the smuggler as well. She occasionally reached up and ran her finger along its rim, where it touched skin. Apparently it was not very comfortable.
Drake had no idea where those other two yahoos were. Finding a parking spot or something, probably. For now, Drake just kept his otherwise loose-cannon yap shut and followed the procession deeper into the, eh, literal fortress.
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued