Lanya stared in open shock at the man standing before her as he tried to actually reason with the killer. Not because he was trying to talk some sense into someone who'd proven himself vicious enough not to care, but because he was talking sense at all. She blinked to clear her head a bit, but the pain from both her leg and back were wearing steadily away at her consciousness. She realized, with no small amount of sadness, that she would soon pass out. The stars at the edges of her vision were now moving in of their own accord, and for all that she wanted to live, her body no longer cared what she wanted. It wanted to sleep.
The mage was in her line of vision then, and reached out. She flinched and tried to shy away, but it wasn't her he touched, it was the assassin. Whatever the mage did, Lanya had only a moment to register the killer's sudden tension before pressure exploded into the back of her good knee, and she collapsed at the sudden force. In last-ditch desperation, she twisted herself in mid-air so that she landed on her right side, opposite her injured left knee. It still hurt, but it wasn't the agony she'd braced for.
She was lying on the road once again. Less than twenty minutes ago, this would've bothered her. Now she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. The little black dots swarming her vision were comforting, in a way. Like a cloud of gnats. She blinked, and they become a swirl of white ashes against her eyelids. Now wasn't that interesting?
Fading quickly, Lanya closed her eyes and let the black haze move over her consciousness. It was like a great warm blanket of nothing, a cocoon of safety and even warmth. The cold rain hitting her body was something physical, but here, far away where there was only the sound of soft, fading music, she was comfortable.
Searching the Streets
Long ago, when he still had his hearing, Lucian had observed an old crone in one of the towns who, observing that her neighbor had dropped a few coins from his purse unnoticed, quickly bent down and snatched them before anyone could see.
Anyone except Lucian. And the old woman, noticing the innocent stare of a young child, motioned him over and dropped one of the coins in his hand, whispering a piece of advice into his ear,
"When opportunity knocks, be quick in answering."
And so when the battlemage stepped forward and began inflicting obvious torment on the killer, who in turn kicked the woman in the back of the knee to relieve himself of her and turned his ferocity on the battlemage- leaving, if only for a moment, the woman entirely outside of the focus of either man-
Lucian heard the distinctive knock of opportunity. He reacted with the quickness intristic to his nature.
In a burst of speed the gypsy darted up to the fallen form of the woman, who was laying on her right side in the street. It took only a glance to know that her injuries were overcoming her and she was losing consciousness.
"Come on," he muttered harshly (not from any kind of frustration with her but due to his inability to make a sound that was not harsh), as he rapidly knelt down and draped her left arm over his neck, "get up. The enemy is divided."
He had no idea if she could hear him or not, but did not pause in using his legs to power upward, struggling to pull her to her feet. He made some progress, but this was not going to work if she didn't come to.
"Please, just stand up."
Anyone except Lucian. And the old woman, noticing the innocent stare of a young child, motioned him over and dropped one of the coins in his hand, whispering a piece of advice into his ear,
"When opportunity knocks, be quick in answering."
And so when the battlemage stepped forward and began inflicting obvious torment on the killer, who in turn kicked the woman in the back of the knee to relieve himself of her and turned his ferocity on the battlemage- leaving, if only for a moment, the woman entirely outside of the focus of either man-
Lucian heard the distinctive knock of opportunity. He reacted with the quickness intristic to his nature.
In a burst of speed the gypsy darted up to the fallen form of the woman, who was laying on her right side in the street. It took only a glance to know that her injuries were overcoming her and she was losing consciousness.
"Come on," he muttered harshly (not from any kind of frustration with her but due to his inability to make a sound that was not harsh), as he rapidly knelt down and draped her left arm over his neck, "get up. The enemy is divided."
He had no idea if she could hear him or not, but did not pause in using his legs to power upward, struggling to pull her to her feet. He made some progress, but this was not going to work if she didn't come to.
"Please, just stand up."
Yar, says I.
All too soon Wolfhound realised that he had not in fact rolled away from Camulous. Instead he was now on top, although still trapped. The one advantage, the only one Wolfhound could think of at this moment, was that he suddenly had use of his arms...although he was being throttled by a metal arm.
A normal man may have begun thrashing around at this point, but Wolfhound was no normal man. He had an animal's instincts, and they were very good at survival. This allowed him to stay mostly calm and reach for his knife. Slipping it out of his sheath, he slammed it down into Camulous's side. Wolfhound always kept his knives sharp, and he was slightly stronger than the average man.
At the same time though, the man was wearing armour, Wolfhound had no idea weather he had gone through a gap, or even if his extra strength would be enough to peirce metal. Somehow he doubted it.
A normal man may have begun thrashing around at this point, but Wolfhound was no normal man. He had an animal's instincts, and they were very good at survival. This allowed him to stay mostly calm and reach for his knife. Slipping it out of his sheath, he slammed it down into Camulous's side. Wolfhound always kept his knives sharp, and he was slightly stronger than the average man.
At the same time though, the man was wearing armour, Wolfhound had no idea weather he had gone through a gap, or even if his extra strength would be enough to peirce metal. Somehow he doubted it.
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Lucas Hild
- Battlemage
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 2:34 am
Lucas was a little startled to see the man suddenly lunge toward him. While grappling with an assassin did not seem like a wise maneuver, he was determined to get the situation back under his control. Yes, usually they would have given up by now, but this one was determined to be special. Too many of them thought that way and it didn't make anything any easier when it came to the judges. In fact Lucas would just as soon spit on the man's prone, paralyzed body at this point.
The knife would have plunged into Lucas's chest were he not wearing armor. The knife in the numbed hand glanced off his chest in a haphazard manner, but with sufficient force to bruise very badly. In fact the blade had left a significant dent in the armor and might have done worse damage had the assassin had a better handle on his sense of touch and sight. That could have been very bad, but Lucas had seen more than a few close calls in his time and this wasn't one.
The sudden and intense attack had been sufficient to break Lucas's immediate concentration forcing him to have to react fast or possibly lose the man he intended to take before the judges. At this point that was not an acceptable situation. There was only one acceptable outcome.
Trying to keep a note of where the assassin's knife was, Lucas did actually attempt to grapple the man. Some people were easier to subdue with plain old simple physical strength. Barring that, he was mentally preparing to attempt a second command word if necessary.
The knife would have plunged into Lucas's chest were he not wearing armor. The knife in the numbed hand glanced off his chest in a haphazard manner, but with sufficient force to bruise very badly. In fact the blade had left a significant dent in the armor and might have done worse damage had the assassin had a better handle on his sense of touch and sight. That could have been very bad, but Lucas had seen more than a few close calls in his time and this wasn't one.
The sudden and intense attack had been sufficient to break Lucas's immediate concentration forcing him to have to react fast or possibly lose the man he intended to take before the judges. At this point that was not an acceptable situation. There was only one acceptable outcome.
Trying to keep a note of where the assassin's knife was, Lucas did actually attempt to grapple the man. Some people were easier to subdue with plain old simple physical strength. Barring that, he was mentally preparing to attempt a second command word if necessary.
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Camulous Smithson
- Guardsman
- Posts: 209
- Joined: Fri Jun 24, 2005 12:59 am
- Name: Camulous Smithson
- Race: Human
Camulous grunted when he felt the tip of a blade enter through the side of his armor. Wolfhound had gotten lucky and driven the thin blade right between the two solid plates that compose the curiass of his suit. The only thing protecting Cam from any real damage was an inch of hard, treated leather and resistance provided by his armor that pinched the blade and prevented it from going deeper. He felt the tip of the knife enter his side, cold steel jabbing into his flesh and pressing against bone. He couldn't tell if it was drawing blood, and he didn't care much about such superficial wounds.
He focused on the task of getting a proper hold on the man's neck. Shifting under him again, the Captain fought with the determination of a workhorse. Again he squeezed down with his wrist on Wolfhound's neck, this time in a better position and with firmer grip. It was a tight fit, headlocking him with armor in the way, but with a little force it was done.
Camulous applied pressure abruptly, not giving the wolfman the chance for mercy that he would give a sparring partner. With the squeeze, he cut the circulation leading to Wolfhound's brain. He would be seeing stars already, and in a second or two would be fully unconscious.
He focused on the task of getting a proper hold on the man's neck. Shifting under him again, the Captain fought with the determination of a workhorse. Again he squeezed down with his wrist on Wolfhound's neck, this time in a better position and with firmer grip. It was a tight fit, headlocking him with armor in the way, but with a little force it was done.
Camulous applied pressure abruptly, not giving the wolfman the chance for mercy that he would give a sparring partner. With the squeeze, he cut the circulation leading to Wolfhound's brain. He would be seeing stars already, and in a second or two would be fully unconscious.
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Kamar Deythal
- Citizen
- Posts: 333
- Joined: Sat Apr 08, 2006 7:52 pm
- Name: Kamar Deythal
- Race: Half-elf
The knife glanced harmlessly off the battlemages armor, but Kamar couldn't feel it. He had no idea what was going on as he sunk deeper in a sensationless void. The voice in his head echoed, the instructions finally catching up through Kamar's instinctual actions to avoid capture and sure death.
And suddenly the world was back, both the pain and the numbness gone. It took him a moment to realize what this could mean. While he had been sensationless, he had not thought to try to shut off his body, which was still moving at and now past Lucas. The battlemage maintained his grip on Kamar, which stopped him short and caused him to fall to his knees. Instinct took over, followed swiftly by a cold, calculating rage.
The knife dropped from his right hand into his waiting left, which immediately plunged at Lucas' thigh. Thin as he was, Kamar was strong; his body was a well-oiled machine that reacted at his call, every time. His left shoulder still throbbed, and would be bruised purple and swollen tomorrow, but that didn't matter. Even as the knife dove at the battlemage's thigh, Kamar was falling backwards from his knees onto his back. His legs came up to plant in Lucas' stomach as he wrenched back with his right hand, trying to pull the battlemage off balance and throw him over Kamar's own prone body.
His mind had already picked the next best move. This attempt on Lanya's life would end here. Kamar knew when things had gotten beyond his control, and decided it was time to retreat. Lanya's day would come, but it would come on the ground that Kamar chose, and on terms that he would lay down.
And suddenly the world was back, both the pain and the numbness gone. It took him a moment to realize what this could mean. While he had been sensationless, he had not thought to try to shut off his body, which was still moving at and now past Lucas. The battlemage maintained his grip on Kamar, which stopped him short and caused him to fall to his knees. Instinct took over, followed swiftly by a cold, calculating rage.
The knife dropped from his right hand into his waiting left, which immediately plunged at Lucas' thigh. Thin as he was, Kamar was strong; his body was a well-oiled machine that reacted at his call, every time. His left shoulder still throbbed, and would be bruised purple and swollen tomorrow, but that didn't matter. Even as the knife dove at the battlemage's thigh, Kamar was falling backwards from his knees onto his back. His legs came up to plant in Lucas' stomach as he wrenched back with his right hand, trying to pull the battlemage off balance and throw him over Kamar's own prone body.
His mind had already picked the next best move. This attempt on Lanya's life would end here. Kamar knew when things had gotten beyond his control, and decided it was time to retreat. Lanya's day would come, but it would come on the ground that Kamar chose, and on terms that he would lay down.
Last edited by Kamar Deythal on Tue Sep 26, 2006 12:36 am, edited 1 time in total.
You’re gonna find out you’re already dead, and I was the world coming down on your head.
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Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
Deep within the dreamscape, where everything physical manifested into something her battered mind could make sense of, Lanya saw a small bird light onto the low branch of a tree and talk to her. Something about it made her ache, made her sad, but she couldn't pinpoint what that might be. It was just a little robin.
"Come on," it croaked. And then something hauled at her arm, and started pulling her up. She looked at it, and saw a brutish monster with piercing blue eyes. She blinked again, and it was a wood elf, fae and wild, with leaves and twigs twined into its hair. It was still speaking. She chose to listen.
"...emy is divided."
Her eyelids fluttered, and it became a watery mass, obscured by mud, grit and rain. She was teetering on the brink of awareness, and in another blink she could vaguely make out the form of the stranger who'd been trying to help her before. She couldn't remember when or why at the moment, but she remembered he was trying to help. Perhaps cooperation was a good thing.
He begged her to just get up, and she fought to obey, trying to get both feet under her. One leg exploded into pain when she applied her weight, and she slumped and panted as she tried to move past the pain. She checked that leg off her mental list of functional body parts.
When the pain diminished enough for her to see straight, she put one leg under her and supported a portion of her own weight. She wasn't hefty, but she wasn't a light stick figure of a woman. Plus she was bogged down by pain and confused daze. She was reacting to his commands while her awareness ran on autopilot.
"Come on," it croaked. And then something hauled at her arm, and started pulling her up. She looked at it, and saw a brutish monster with piercing blue eyes. She blinked again, and it was a wood elf, fae and wild, with leaves and twigs twined into its hair. It was still speaking. She chose to listen.
"...emy is divided."
Her eyelids fluttered, and it became a watery mass, obscured by mud, grit and rain. She was teetering on the brink of awareness, and in another blink she could vaguely make out the form of the stranger who'd been trying to help her before. She couldn't remember when or why at the moment, but she remembered he was trying to help. Perhaps cooperation was a good thing.
He begged her to just get up, and she fought to obey, trying to get both feet under her. One leg exploded into pain when she applied her weight, and she slumped and panted as she tried to move past the pain. She checked that leg off her mental list of functional body parts.
When the pain diminished enough for her to see straight, she put one leg under her and supported a portion of her own weight. She wasn't hefty, but she wasn't a light stick figure of a woman. Plus she was bogged down by pain and confused daze. She was reacting to his commands while her awareness ran on autopilot.
She was cooperating.
And by that, she was not fighting or screaming or even seeming to be hugely opposed to him helping her. But other than that, as Lucian felt her stumble heavily and inhale sharply, indicating significant injury to her left leg, he was basically going to have to carry them both out of here.
Keeping her arm crooked over his neck, Lucian pressed forward, forcing himself to share her weight which, while not exactly heavy, was not nearly as light as he would have preferred. Moving as fast as the woman was capable of, barely above a quick walk, he steered them for the bridge. Out of this god-forsaken city.
Lucian half-smiled to himself and shook his head, water droplets dripping off of his ear lobes, I don't remember when I've been this anxious to get out of a city.
Grit and filth, returned to its ooze form by the drizzling rain, clung to the gypsies bare feet, making Lucian grimace slightly- dirt and all manner of other things he walked through without reservation, but the filth of city streets was not something he enjoyed treading through.
Glancing down to avoid a particularly unpleasant looking accumulation of muck, Lucian's ever observant eye caught sight of a curious little carving, lying discarded in the street. Curiously a knife, half-buried into it, protruded from its form.
A spark jumped in his memory. When the killer had jumped from the rooftop and attacked the woman- as Lucian has spun around to face them, something small had gone skidding away from the scene, dropped by either the killer or the woman.
Not that the ownership really mattered to Lucian. Rather, despite his relative lack of practice with such weapons, he decided he would like to at least have a blade of some kind should pursuit continue.
And so he stooped, only slowing slightly, and snatched up the carving, a bird of somekind he sub-consciously noted, and struggled back up right with the woman, hardly breaking stride.
The bridge lay about sixty meters further ahead.
And by that, she was not fighting or screaming or even seeming to be hugely opposed to him helping her. But other than that, as Lucian felt her stumble heavily and inhale sharply, indicating significant injury to her left leg, he was basically going to have to carry them both out of here.
Keeping her arm crooked over his neck, Lucian pressed forward, forcing himself to share her weight which, while not exactly heavy, was not nearly as light as he would have preferred. Moving as fast as the woman was capable of, barely above a quick walk, he steered them for the bridge. Out of this god-forsaken city.
Lucian half-smiled to himself and shook his head, water droplets dripping off of his ear lobes, I don't remember when I've been this anxious to get out of a city.
Grit and filth, returned to its ooze form by the drizzling rain, clung to the gypsies bare feet, making Lucian grimace slightly- dirt and all manner of other things he walked through without reservation, but the filth of city streets was not something he enjoyed treading through.
Glancing down to avoid a particularly unpleasant looking accumulation of muck, Lucian's ever observant eye caught sight of a curious little carving, lying discarded in the street. Curiously a knife, half-buried into it, protruded from its form.
A spark jumped in his memory. When the killer had jumped from the rooftop and attacked the woman- as Lucian has spun around to face them, something small had gone skidding away from the scene, dropped by either the killer or the woman.
Not that the ownership really mattered to Lucian. Rather, despite his relative lack of practice with such weapons, he decided he would like to at least have a blade of some kind should pursuit continue.
And so he stooped, only slowing slightly, and snatched up the carving, a bird of somekind he sub-consciously noted, and struggled back up right with the woman, hardly breaking stride.
The bridge lay about sixty meters further ahead.
Yar, says I.
A smile appeared on Wolfhound's lips as the knife made no contact with the armour, it had slipped through a joint. That smile vanished though, when he felt the guard's grip on him tighten. The knife fell from his hands and he thrashed wildly. It was no use though, none of Wolfhound's skills, speed or strength could help him out of this one.
He felt like a beatle upsidedown, no way to turn back over. His thrashing soon died down, although he may have hit the guard, it wasn't likely to hurt. It would have simply been a glancing hit and in Wolfhounds weakened state would not have done anything. His vision went dark and soon enough his last jerks fell and Wolfhound was silent, knocked out clean cold.
He felt like a beatle upsidedown, no way to turn back over. His thrashing soon died down, although he may have hit the guard, it wasn't likely to hurt. It would have simply been a glancing hit and in Wolfhounds weakened state would not have done anything. His vision went dark and soon enough his last jerks fell and Wolfhound was silent, knocked out clean cold.
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Lucas Hild
- Battlemage
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 2:34 am
Lucas wore thickened leather over his legs, but it was insufficient to completely repel the blade. He grunted at the realization that the metal had pierced his armor and his flesh, but this time his extensive training and experience won out and he did not lose his concentration. The bastard had gotten lucky the first time. His eyes tracked Kamar's movements, what was he doing? On the ground, feet in the air.
He watched Kamar go into his kick, sensing in advance what was going to happen. There was anger well before the fact but he would mitigate the damage. He hated going back to square one. There were people who thought him deranged for how much training, practice and strength building he crammed into his days but in the end it came down to situations like this when his opponent was fast and slippery like a wet worm.
He adjusted his stance reflexively. Yes Kamar's kick would hit him, but Lucas had shifted more of his weight to his one uninjured leg adjusting his position just a little way off so that the force of the kick would make him pivot on his leg rather than throw him off his feet.
Oh no this son-of-a-bitch was not going to get away. Lucas hated acrobats. At least the assassin had the common sense to run now even though that still wasn't what Lucas wanted him to do. Next time the fool would know better and stab for the throat. Thoughts like that sometimes made Lucas wonder if he had a death wish.
Lucas had been preparing to use a second stun. He hadn't wanted to. It was a jarring, attention-getting spell that tended to annoy allies as well as enemies but he had few other options. His quarry was making a break for it. He found his voice just as the assassin was pushing forward on his back foot to launch into the growing crowd of gawking spectators.
"STOP" He shouted. There was definitely malice in his voice now and he did not bother putting any restraints on the spell. It was a loud, blind area effecting burst of magical hate. Sometimes Lucas imagined that he'd stopped the world when he used that spell even though it was really just the people in the immediate area who stopped.
He could feel the pain creeping up his leg now, finally. The anger was no longer keeping it at bay. The gnawing fire in his upper leg gave him all the more reason to get this worm subdued. The assassin had earned himself an extra helping of suffering just for that.
He watched Kamar go into his kick, sensing in advance what was going to happen. There was anger well before the fact but he would mitigate the damage. He hated going back to square one. There were people who thought him deranged for how much training, practice and strength building he crammed into his days but in the end it came down to situations like this when his opponent was fast and slippery like a wet worm.
He adjusted his stance reflexively. Yes Kamar's kick would hit him, but Lucas had shifted more of his weight to his one uninjured leg adjusting his position just a little way off so that the force of the kick would make him pivot on his leg rather than throw him off his feet.
Oh no this son-of-a-bitch was not going to get away. Lucas hated acrobats. At least the assassin had the common sense to run now even though that still wasn't what Lucas wanted him to do. Next time the fool would know better and stab for the throat. Thoughts like that sometimes made Lucas wonder if he had a death wish.
Lucas had been preparing to use a second stun. He hadn't wanted to. It was a jarring, attention-getting spell that tended to annoy allies as well as enemies but he had few other options. His quarry was making a break for it. He found his voice just as the assassin was pushing forward on his back foot to launch into the growing crowd of gawking spectators.
"STOP" He shouted. There was definitely malice in his voice now and he did not bother putting any restraints on the spell. It was a loud, blind area effecting burst of magical hate. Sometimes Lucas imagined that he'd stopped the world when he used that spell even though it was really just the people in the immediate area who stopped.
He could feel the pain creeping up his leg now, finally. The anger was no longer keeping it at bay. The gnawing fire in his upper leg gave him all the more reason to get this worm subdued. The assassin had earned himself an extra helping of suffering just for that.
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Camulous Smithson
- Guardsman
- Posts: 209
- Joined: Fri Jun 24, 2005 12:59 am
- Name: Camulous Smithson
- Race: Human
Camulous wasn't going to give wolfhound an inch until he was absolutely certain that the man was completely unconscious. Restricting the blood flow too his brain for too long would cause permanent damage, but Cam had a good idea of when that would happen, and let go just before it did.
Lucas' command came through just as Cam was loosening up with his wrist. He wasn't in a vulnerable position, so it meant very little that his body refused to respond for a couple of seconds. He spent those seconds with a mixture of awe and aggravation at what one simple world could do in the hands of a mage... But before he knew it he was in control of himself again, and he pushed the body off and scrambled to get to his feet, yanking the knife out of his side in the process.
"Guard him!" He ordered to Orion, who was still standing there with his gun.
The red haired witch and her a accomplice were gone, the wolf man was properly subdued, but he could still see Kamar. He wondered if his suspicions were correct, if Kamar really did have some magic in him. For the man to still be fighting the battlemage, though, strongly backed up Camulous' decision to ask for help. It looked to him as though the assassin was going to escape, even with all Lucas' abilities. Wonderful. There would soon be two fugitives running around making a mockery of the guard and throwing the city into chaos.
Not on Cam's watch. He started towards Kamar and Lucas great verve... grunted and put a gloved hand to his armored side... and then struggled to keep moving.
His hand couldn't cover the trickle of blood. His armor worked against him, blocking access to the wound completely. The blood had yet to start dripping onto the ground and he had no idea how much there was. All he knew was that it became increasingly difficult to move. He grimaced and hobbled along at a slow jogging pace.
Lucas' command came through just as Cam was loosening up with his wrist. He wasn't in a vulnerable position, so it meant very little that his body refused to respond for a couple of seconds. He spent those seconds with a mixture of awe and aggravation at what one simple world could do in the hands of a mage... But before he knew it he was in control of himself again, and he pushed the body off and scrambled to get to his feet, yanking the knife out of his side in the process.
"Guard him!" He ordered to Orion, who was still standing there with his gun.
The red haired witch and her a accomplice were gone, the wolf man was properly subdued, but he could still see Kamar. He wondered if his suspicions were correct, if Kamar really did have some magic in him. For the man to still be fighting the battlemage, though, strongly backed up Camulous' decision to ask for help. It looked to him as though the assassin was going to escape, even with all Lucas' abilities. Wonderful. There would soon be two fugitives running around making a mockery of the guard and throwing the city into chaos.
Not on Cam's watch. He started towards Kamar and Lucas great verve... grunted and put a gloved hand to his armored side... and then struggled to keep moving.
His hand couldn't cover the trickle of blood. His armor worked against him, blocking access to the wound completely. The blood had yet to start dripping onto the ground and he had no idea how much there was. All he knew was that it became increasingly difficult to move. He grimaced and hobbled along at a slow jogging pace.
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Kamar Deythal
- Citizen
- Posts: 333
- Joined: Sat Apr 08, 2006 7:52 pm
- Name: Kamar Deythal
- Race: Half-elf
Kamar watched as his kick backfired, but was determined to turn it to his own advantage. Using the added momentum, he rolled up onto his shoulders and placed his hands flat on the ground behind his head. Kicking his legs upwards and back, he pushed up with his arms, his left shoulder screaming in pain, but still working.
Gritting his teeth, Kamar continued the backwards spring, landing on his feet and immediately jumping up and kicking his feet out behind him into another spring. His body rotated in the air, giving him another glance at the naked hatred on the battlemage's face. Planting just his right hand on the ground, the left arm tucked up against his body to minimize jarring and pain, Kamar pushed again, landing back on his feet and into a full run.
He grabbed a pedestrian and pulled, throwing the poor fellow behind him to discourage pursuit and began to dart around the corner. As he turned, Lucas' command reached him, and again his body stopped involuntarily.
Unfortunately for Kamar, his momentum carried him forward and sideways, his legs no longer pumping as he rounded the corner. Slamming headfirst into the wall of the building knocked him unconscious, leaving him lying in shadows in the alleyway in a crumpled heap.
Gritting his teeth, Kamar continued the backwards spring, landing on his feet and immediately jumping up and kicking his feet out behind him into another spring. His body rotated in the air, giving him another glance at the naked hatred on the battlemage's face. Planting just his right hand on the ground, the left arm tucked up against his body to minimize jarring and pain, Kamar pushed again, landing back on his feet and into a full run.
He grabbed a pedestrian and pulled, throwing the poor fellow behind him to discourage pursuit and began to dart around the corner. As he turned, Lucas' command reached him, and again his body stopped involuntarily.
Unfortunately for Kamar, his momentum carried him forward and sideways, his legs no longer pumping as he rounded the corner. Slamming headfirst into the wall of the building knocked him unconscious, leaving him lying in shadows in the alleyway in a crumpled heap.
You’re gonna find out you’re already dead, and I was the world coming down on your head.
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Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
Each step brought her closer, until she was clear-headed again, save for exhaustion. Now she remembered everything, and was surprised by this man's determination to help. She blinked to clear her eyes and looked at him, wondering what his motivation could be. The thought that he might just be a kind person never occurred to her.
She tried her best to support herself, but it was difficult without both legs under her. She evened it out to a sort of hop-slide, and resigned herself to not being able to walk quickly. The bridge was straight ahead, and ever closer. She kept her eyes fixed on it with each jerky movement, praying more fiercely that they'd make it and be free of this chaos, if only for a moment.
As they moved, she kept glancing at the oddity by her side, trying to work out his reasons or involvement. He could be working for the assassin, trying to take her out of eyesight of the guards to finish the job. Or perhaps he was just a civilian who...no. That just couldn't be. If he was yet another stray, someone who attached themself to her seemingly without cause, he had to have some inherent magical abilities, which meant she would leave him the moment she was able to walk on her own.
All in due time, girl. Just keep up the pace, best you can, and deal with that later.
She glanced a last time, and noticed what he held in his free hand. Her own hand shot out to grab the wooden bird as she cried out for a stroke of joy; she'd thought the little bauble lost.
"Oh, you found him! Thank you!"
Her entire countenance seemed to perk up at the sight of the wooden robin, before remembering that he wouldn't be moving or singing ever again depressed her once more. But they were headed toward the woods. Something would happen. Of course it would. Just like magic, her luck would change, and she would have Flame back, alive and well. Sort of.
She sighed. She was too much of a realist to hold onto such a dream. As they moved, she began a mental plan for a quiet burial of the little wooden robin, perhaps in the nook of a tree's roots. She blinked back tears as she thought of tossing dirt onto the little robin, until she'd never see him again.
"I hate my life."
She tried her best to support herself, but it was difficult without both legs under her. She evened it out to a sort of hop-slide, and resigned herself to not being able to walk quickly. The bridge was straight ahead, and ever closer. She kept her eyes fixed on it with each jerky movement, praying more fiercely that they'd make it and be free of this chaos, if only for a moment.
As they moved, she kept glancing at the oddity by her side, trying to work out his reasons or involvement. He could be working for the assassin, trying to take her out of eyesight of the guards to finish the job. Or perhaps he was just a civilian who...no. That just couldn't be. If he was yet another stray, someone who attached themself to her seemingly without cause, he had to have some inherent magical abilities, which meant she would leave him the moment she was able to walk on her own.
All in due time, girl. Just keep up the pace, best you can, and deal with that later.
She glanced a last time, and noticed what he held in his free hand. Her own hand shot out to grab the wooden bird as she cried out for a stroke of joy; she'd thought the little bauble lost.
"Oh, you found him! Thank you!"
Her entire countenance seemed to perk up at the sight of the wooden robin, before remembering that he wouldn't be moving or singing ever again depressed her once more. But they were headed toward the woods. Something would happen. Of course it would. Just like magic, her luck would change, and she would have Flame back, alive and well. Sort of.
She sighed. She was too much of a realist to hold onto such a dream. As they moved, she began a mental plan for a quiet burial of the little wooden robin, perhaps in the nook of a tree's roots. She blinked back tears as she thought of tossing dirt onto the little robin, until she'd never see him again.
"I hate my life."
Although a little suprised when the woman snatched the bird out of his hand and unable to actually tell what she was saying, he sensed the slight relief that her body revealed upon taking the little carving from him and gathered that it did belong to her.
What was its significance, that it should bring such relief?
But such thoughts could wait. Escape lay painfully within reach as he strained to maintain pace and keep both them both upright and balanced.
The dark stone bridge was cold and slick under the gypsy's bare feet as it spanned the formidable river rushing beneath it. Lucian could smell the lichen and moss that grew on its supports, awakened by the drizzle. He shivered slightly as that same drizzle grew in intensity, becoming a proper downpour now, accented by a distant flash, flowed by the telltale reverberations of thunder in the air.
She said something else, something he could not glance at her to understand, but felt the apathy in whatever it was. Was she making some remark as to the futility of their situation?
"Hope is the strongest of all things," he said quietly, almost to himself.
Shrugging her arm a little tighter around his neck, he pressed on as fast as she could keep pace with. He was not about to let them stop now.
What was its significance, that it should bring such relief?
But such thoughts could wait. Escape lay painfully within reach as he strained to maintain pace and keep both them both upright and balanced.
The dark stone bridge was cold and slick under the gypsy's bare feet as it spanned the formidable river rushing beneath it. Lucian could smell the lichen and moss that grew on its supports, awakened by the drizzle. He shivered slightly as that same drizzle grew in intensity, becoming a proper downpour now, accented by a distant flash, flowed by the telltale reverberations of thunder in the air.
She said something else, something he could not glance at her to understand, but felt the apathy in whatever it was. Was she making some remark as to the futility of their situation?
"Hope is the strongest of all things," he said quietly, almost to himself.
Shrugging her arm a little tighter around his neck, he pressed on as fast as she could keep pace with. He was not about to let them stop now.
Yar, says I.
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Lucas Hild
- Battlemage
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 2:34 am
Lucas had seen many crazy things, but this was probably a first. He wasted no time, despite new bruises and a very painful leg wound. There was no time to waste when it seemed like he had won.
Hurrying forward he set about securing cuffs on the man's wrists, a device issued by the office which served well to keep most troublemakers from being trouble when it came to getting them back to the office.
Wincing at the pain in his leg he went about collecting his prize, the assassin's prone form. Normally he would have deftly swung the man over one shoulder and continued on his way, but the pain in his leg was arguing against that tact. He dragged the body a short way before peering over his shoulder to confirm that his horse was not fit to take him anywhere, but Camulous's might still be useful for hauling a body.
Hurrying forward he set about securing cuffs on the man's wrists, a device issued by the office which served well to keep most troublemakers from being trouble when it came to getting them back to the office.
Wincing at the pain in his leg he went about collecting his prize, the assassin's prone form. Normally he would have deftly swung the man over one shoulder and continued on his way, but the pain in his leg was arguing against that tact. He dragged the body a short way before peering over his shoulder to confirm that his horse was not fit to take him anywhere, but Camulous's might still be useful for hauling a body.