Bravos Harpooner

393 AC - There are two types of harpooners among the Leviathan hunters: those who stay on the ships and arm their turrets, and those who control Alteration and summon their ammunition to them. Sure, there was a vague sense of safety in being on a ship, surrounded by a reinforced hull. But experience had shown that the larger the target, the more vulnerable it was. Being on a skiff was like having a target painted on your forehead, and a metal frame wasn't going to do much against a Leviathan heading straight for you. On the other hand, acrobats like Veora and me didn't even register on these behemoths' radar. To them, we appeared no larger than a mosquito does to a human. Or even a flea.

So, yes, we couldn't be more exposed. At best, all we had was a padded jacket. And in fact, many of us wouldn't even bother to put it on, because besides hindering our movement, it didn't really do much – or at most, maybe as much as an ant's carapace could do when stepped on by a boot. The only real defense we had was the trust we had in each other. No matter the situation, I knew I could count on her, and she knew she could rely on me entirely. Besides, unlike ants, we had explosives of all sizes and functions at our disposal: incendiary warheads, penetrating warheads, magnetic wave projectiles, homing missiles…

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