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Naia and Nephti wind up in the same location after having walked through the door.

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Naia Whitewater on January 19th, 2016, 2:31 pm

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Speech | 82 Winter, 515 AV | Thoughts |

Naia hadn't meant to be in town when it happened, when the city closed and prevented her from escaping.

How many times had she circled the streets, hoping against hope that maybe the next bend, the next corner, or the next door would open to the docks. Instead she got flames, heard screams, saw the cracks in reality, as they were later named. She listened and joined in on the anxious gossip, and spent her days searching for familiar faces, only to find herself failing time after time. She could still feel the ocean, just out of reach, and it drove her wild. She felt its pull even in her dreams.

Then one day - yesterday - there was the door.

And then the door had rules, and there was a call to arms, almost.

Men and women filed through, after the zith had made their rush, each with their own fire and spirit in their eye. What ever pull or call they'd felt, the Svefra certainly hadn't. She kept company with those just as disenchanted as she, made awful small talk and botched her attempts to tell tales to ease discomfort. She found some respite in fellow travelers, those of the crew who were also trapped, away from The Mischief, though any of them had left the day before, when the filing of willing Alvadas had.

Concern struck her as she wandered what had happened to those still on board the ship, and she voiced her concern to a stranger near by. She wasn't sure what response she wished from the older woman, but it was most definitely not a snide remark about how it would do her best to think about their current predicament, before worrying herself with people who's problems they had no hope of helping.

The woman had a point, however, and Naia pushed herself off the wall that she'd been stuck to for the better part of the early morning, and made her way towards the infamous door, a small group in hot debate about entering as they loitered by its handle. Only one seemed uncertain, though, and funnily enough, they also seemed to be the strongest of the whole group, and the brunette's hand soon enough found the hilt of the cutlass to her side, as though needed to assure herself that it was indeed there.

She wasn't sure why she'd bought it, she was better with her hands than with a blade, but the purchase had indeed been a serendipitous one, with not a week passing before the door popping up and demanding only those with weapons could pass. 'What, have I decided I want to pass through, now?' The consideration clung to her, and she walked around the figures who largely obstructed the view and entrance, until she could feel the infernal triangle's gaze upon her in a new found strength. She had never allowed herself to get too close. Too afraid she would get swept up in the hysteria and find herself walking through the door, and now it seemed like there was little other choice. Alvadas was a trap, a maze. If there was an escape, and end- it was through that door. Or was it?

"What are you so afraid of?" it was a high and haughty question for one who faced much of the city's illusion and mischief with blatant refusal and denial, but the question was tasked to the singular man who seemed as though his feet were glued to the stone. "It is your city, no? Your people- friends, family..." She crinkled her nose as she scrutinized the group further, wondering almost in earnest how they were going to take her bait. Of all things, indecision was what struck ill cord with her the most. That is, the inability of others to make quick and reasonable choices. She had a very clear double standard for her own sake.

"Do you..." the frightened man asked, eyebrow cocked as his thumb jerked towards the door. "Know what is through that door? Its say ya' won't come back," one of his friends seemed to give his words a proper thought, and his head gave a brisk nod. Naia could see his point, really. A mysterious door, telling one to enter armed, and disallowing the young and infirm. It was sketchy, but so was the entire damn city.
"For Gods' sake, you're an Alvad, aren't you?" her hands had moved to cross her chest, and she pressed her lips as she shot the group the iciest glare she could muster. If she could rally them, then perhaps she could rally herself. "Even I am considering walking through that door, and I'm a petching Svefra. I'm not here by choice. I'd call myself a Nykan before I did one of this city."

"But you haven't," one of the geniuses decided to point out the obvious, and the woman's gaze narrowed upon the man. Each city and people had their people who were not quite like the rest, the Svefra had them too, and it seemed as though Naia had decided to pick upon a group who were of the irritating kind. "And I bet you won't, you just want us to go through so there's less of us around... or more of us there," Naia didn't know how to take the accusation, not in the slightest, and in the moment of her mouth hanging open, she saw upon the man's face a kind of triumph her own pride wouldn't have.

The little debacle had seemed to rouse some, it seemed, and a shoulder shoved past her, and the other men, and a broad figure made for the door, not a word or gesture shared before he entered and disappeared, and another woman followed. Yet again, she did not waver; not once did it seem like she was considering turning back. "Stand there doing shyke if you want," she hummed, releasing the tense hold of her arms as they then made fists by her sides. "I don't know what use I could be, but I know it is damn well better than standing here," taking cue from those before her, she strode forward unflinching, turning the bronze handle as she too disappeared into its depths.

The next thing she knew, the darkness that surrounded her took form, and the silence stretched and broke to noise.
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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Nephti on January 21st, 2016, 8:23 pm

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Nephti had been standing near the door since yesterday, watching and waiting as people filed through, curious as to what lay behind it or eager to wreck havoc at whatever lay in store. Sayana had gone through the door, without her. Nephti didn't know whether to feel thankful or betrayed. Had Sayana abandoned her or saved her from a worse fate? Her hands kept moving to the cards, the newer ones, gifts from the woman, but stopped at the last moment. Priskil didn't want her reading them.

Her goddess wanted her spreading hope and vigilance, preparing those that came to the door for whatever that lay behind, hell or paradise

And so she did, standing on a constructed platform from whatever she could find. Her scimitar hung to her belt, but it was not that that drew the occasional look from the onlooker. Nor was it the makeup that adorned her face, carefully selected and applied kohl and lip pomade, nor the jewellery she wore, bangles clanging against each other with a tinkling noise, the beautiful glass necklace that was ever so delicate, just like her. Instead, it was her voice, calling out above the crowds, strong and powerful. The common was broken, an exotic accent to be heard, but beautiful.

"Priskil loves you. Priskil watches over. Take weapon, be vigilant. Have hope. Bring light to what lies beyond. She go with you. Fight for light. Help for light. No fear. Only hope, Priskil with you." A few stopped and stared at the young girl preaching, unable to say anymore but wishing in her heart that she could. People here needed her, some scared, shaking a little. Others were bold, but those paid no attention. The little girl gave light and encouragement to those who needed it.

But there were those who looked upon the Eypharian with anger. They glared and stared, before making their own way to the door, entering slowly, cautiously. One decided to speak out, call out above the murmur of the crowds to her. "If Priskil watches over us, wants us to help, why aren't you in there?" he demanded, attempting to intimidate the young girl. She had nothing to say, but didn't show any fear or guilt. He was nothing.

Slowly, she descended from her small mound, approaching him through the crowd. His eyes moved from the girl to her blade, taking in her multiple arms and the jewellery and makeup. Sizing her up, trying to discover what she was trying to hide behind her firm expression. His smile still curled at the end, but his eyes showed a little doubt at his accusation when they finally landed on the gnosis, a mark from a powerful being.

She moved her marked hand up, reaching up to the man. He looked at it, confused, until she flipped it over, hand outstretched to take his. The bangles clinked as they slid up and down. "Take me to the door," she spoke clearly, Arumenic, but he understood anyway, knowing the look in her own eyes.

It was dark, simple, with a brass knocker and a multi-hued triangle in the centre, rules clear to see. He stepped aside as she stepped towards, smiling. "See you on the other side, honey," he mocked, waiting for her to make a move. She took the handle confidently, breathing deeply as she closed her eyes for a split second, a quick prayer to her goddess. "Light my way." Then, to the man, "Priskil light yours." She pushed it open, stepping forward quickly.

Light changed to darkness changed to light.

A dark haze covered the sky, smoke mixed with the heavy scent of death. Screams sounded around her, shouts from those fighting and those not. Something terrible was afoot here, something dreadful. People stood around her, the brave ones leaving to join the fight, those who weren’t lingering behind. Nephti looked towards them, eyes round with fear but also with hope. There were many here, many to fight the monsters around them.

"Be brave. Priskil is with you," she announced, to herself and to the others, "What is this?"



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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Naia Whitewater on January 27th, 2016, 6:21 am

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Speech | 82 Winter, 515 AV | Thoughts |

Tanroa's river did not seem to at all to flow straight and forward in whatever place this was. She recognized the man that stood before her was the one who had enter before her, and at her flank was one of the brutish morons who had doubted her, her mind still hazed from whatever it was that had transpired.

Someone broke past her, and suddenly the screams were in Naia's ears, and her vision cleared, and there, at the end of the long road was the makings of a... a camp?- A war camp?- and seemingly all associated horror. She could make out people carrying items from one point to another, weapons and injured, she figured. Perhaps the hellscapes that she could eye of in the fissures of streets was merely a window to what was now, though some fair distance, before her? Damned door with its damned restrictions. No wonder no sick or infirm could enter, and children were barred. She should have known. And the zith, too. Laviku, what had she gotten herself into?

Before she could take the time to give proper thought, to plan and decide on her own course of action, a peculiar announcement was struck. A well wishing, almost like a prayer, from a girl speaking Goddess Priskil's word, and then an ask to know what it was that appeared to be going on. Most of the much smaller group remained silent, some taking the opportunity to follow the others who had already made quick and grim journey towards the camp.

"It looks to me..." Naia said in that sing-song tune of hers, a flash of confusion striking her face as she noted the existence of more pairs of arms upon the woman than was typical of any species she'd yet crossed paths with. "Like we're at war." She had the opportunity to take more note of the girl, one of Priskil's assumed followers, and felt her heart hit the ground as she took in the youth to the girl's appearance. She must have just scrapped through on the door's requirement of age, "We were told to bare arms, after all."

There were a couple of torn faces at her comment, some on edge far more than others, though the Svefra did not discount those that appeared to take both Naia's and the other girl's words with heed and inspiration. Some little boys and girls dreamed of war.

"I'd dare say..." she hummed, trying to keep the situation as light as manageable, "That we ought to check my assumption, though." She gave a short survey of the group, then, and began to walk as she continued to talk, hand moving to her cutlass as though to make a point. "It could all be some grand misunderstanding. Some wild party gone awry, I'm sure," the screams were too loud to hear footsteps, and she was forced to glance back to take stock of those following.

She made a pointed case to eye Priskil's child, pausing to ensure that she was following. Although Naia didn't see herself as old, she wasn't near as young as whoever, whatever this girl was. "Stay close, I'm sure we can find ourselves a job that will keep the hope, and us from danger."
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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Nephti on January 30th, 2016, 11:40 pm

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"War," she mulled the thought over, letting it sink into her mind. Her lower hand moved to her weapon, ready to grasp the blade with a moment's thought. War, surely Priskil had a reason to bring her here. She examined the woman that had replied, sun kissed skin and rolling waves. A gnosis, she could tell instantly. No tattoo or other marking looked like that.

So she was blessed with a god too. Perhaps brought together, for a reason. Perhaps it was only chance. Nephti smiled at whatever it was, keeping herself light and positive for those around that had darkened spirits. There was light in this all. The gods had sent them here for a reason. Whatever that reason was, it didn't matter. Nephti would fight for whatever cause.

The woman then went on to come up with other, absurd reasons. Over the screams, the words seemed ridiculous. Nephti continued to march behind her confidently, her hope and optimism starting to reflect on the others. If a young girl like her could keep her head high and act as if she was on a stroll to the market, then so could they.

The woman spoke to Nephti directly, telling her to stay close. She almost felt offended, that she was seen as a young thing that needed protection, but it soothed any fears that she had as well. After all, her young age meant people would be more likely to protect her. While a part of her yelled with pride, pride of being Priskil's marked one, pride of being Eypharian, another considered everything. And that comfort came gladly to her.

Still, she continued as if all was the same, alert and wary but also confident. Screams rang out as they walked, Nephti making sure to direct the blade, which she now held in front of her, towards them. She no longer spoke, preaching of how Priskil would protect them. Telling them to have hope but be vigilant.

It wasn't that she herself had lost hope. No, she never would, the light glowing brightest in herself. It was more that she didn't have the words to speak. Something about this place kept her wary, gave her goosebumps. Something about it wasn't right. Of course it wasn't right. Everyone could see that.

Nephti hurried up to the woman leading them, walking briskly alongside her, "My name is Nephti." Her introduction was brief, simply to give a name. She waited a little longer, stopping suddenly. "Where are we going?"

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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Naia Whitewater on February 7th, 2016, 12:41 am

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Speech | 82 Winter, 515 AV | Thoughts |

Bitterness could have only driven Naia so far, and she had grown increasingly tired of it looming at the back of her skull. Taking the scene before her in stride seemed to soften old aches, and the breaths she took were so full and heavy, it was as though she hadn't really breathed all season. It was almost ironic that it was a young woman of Priskil that she'd decided that she was going to be accountable for, for such hope and radiance had been sorely missed from the Svefra's mind.

It wasn't at all that she was hopeless, or lacking in love and fire, but she had been so caught up in taking each day as it was thrown before her, and complaining of the little intricacies of life that brought her irritation, that she hadn't bore such thoughts. Perhaps the girl indeed was a sign, as though on cue, the drawing of the woman's thoughts on the girl seemed to coincide suspiciously well with the giving of names.

Nephti. A pretty name, it suited her well. She almost forgot to respond in kind.

The moment seemed to have already passed, however, as Naia's own name was ready to spill from her lips when the younger woman stopped, and another question poised. The brunette's brow arching as she considered it, gaze darting between the now quite near camp, and Nephti. "To the camp, where the others went- Someone must be in charge, tell us what is happening, or at the very least what we're meant to be doing," she pressed her lips, and stretched her limbs as she spoke, some push from the back of her mind to limber herself up. "My name is Naia, and don't you also feel that we have purpose here?"

The wannabe astronomer then found the sky above, and she considered it strange with how bright the stretching blue above burned, bellows of smoke seeming to stem from isolated points in the distance. Her eyes then found the buildings whose shadows she stood under, and she took in the brokenness of the street, and once more took in Nephti, whatever race she was. She couldn't quite feel the sea, it was a strange thing, and something she hoped was temporary. Hope. Yes.

She hoped all would be well, but she was determined to be an agent of such change, and when all was done, should there be such a point, such events would be written, set in ink and paper. Perhaps she needed to buy a new tome, a book for wild tales and adventure. She did not wish for memory to fade such things.
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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Nephti on February 9th, 2016, 8:27 pm

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Nephti watched the woman curiously, trying to uncover what lay behind the exterior. Hope, or lack of it? She tried to see, somehow sensing a need for guidance and light. Well, Nephti, however young and innocent, would be the light to guide her. The brunette before her looked towards the camp, eyes darting back to the Eypharian as she spoke, preparing for fighting.

"We always have purpose," Nephti replied, watching the woman look up to the sky and then to the buildings. They finally landed on her again, somewhat stronger. Determined, but there was hope too. Nephti let it grow, "Always. Why else here?" By here, she didn't mean this strange version of Alvadas. She didn't even mean the area. She meant the world. Why else would they even exist? They had to have a purpose.

As they approached the camp, she took in the surrounding, arms moving with slight wonder at the scene. Azure tents lined in front of houses with their walls torn down. Men and women roamed the camp, moving with order and purpose. While there were cots scattered, injured people lying on them, helpless, everyone was moving to help them anyway.

Nephti scanned the scene, eager to find a way to help. Surely they had use for a follower of Priskil, to give them light despite the darkness? A man passed them, shoving through with a determined look. His eyes lingered on her many arms, lingering even more on the gnosis. Finally, he spoke, "You girls look quick, huh?" He directed his question at both of them, Nephti tilting her head curiously. He looked towards their weapons, "We need armed people, but not to fight. Those injured can't get out. Understand?"

Nephti barely did, more from the heavy accent over the common, but he took the confused expression as a sign that he hadn't said it clearly enough. "Go get injured people!" he barked the order, marching away with war axe in hand. Nephti turned towards her companion.

"Looks like we know our purpose then," she smiled, not even realising she had spoken in Arumenic.

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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Naia Whitewater on February 15th, 2016, 4:41 am

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Of all things, the last thing the Svefra had expected was such a speech in the impending of doom and battle.

Though, given the words that Nephti had announced on their entry to the place, she supposed she really shouldn't have been surprised at all. The words made a certain sense to her, but at her root and core was a vile skeptic, an etching and edging doubter that at times would not even believe what she saw. Combined with a legacy of superstition, her beliefs and faith was a mix match and tangle that left her not knowing what she believed, at times.

Purpose, always. A reason to be. Supposing such was true, was this grand purpose one that stretched a lifetime, or one that came to only three or four moments? Would there soon be a day when she had all that she was meant to do? What would that leave her, then?- Free or dead? Would the knowledge that she had set the world forward, and would do no more give her life and invigoration, or launch and fall her into the depths of despair? Or, would she always have some convoluted purpose- would her place of death spring some unknowable life, her possessions left behind fall into another's hand, and find a far greater purpose than she could ever imagine?

Did she even wish for anything of the sort to be true- did she wish to be bound only by her free thoughts and will?

"Fate or free will," her words fell in a low hum, perhaps too quiet for the daughter of Priskil to hear, given her distance and the screams and cries around, Naia's attention falling from the words and conversation as the weight of the situation fell onto her shoulders. It was too early, too bright and active for such a grim choke to hold the air, for the staining and stench of death. Horror was so intrinsically entwined with darkness in her life and experience, seeing such death in the broad of Syna's day coursed all manner of wrong to flood her mind.

While the brunette was lost in her own thought, Nephti had proven herself much more pragmatic, and it was the sound of the woman's voice in conversation with another that brought Naia from the clouds to the ground. Quick? Her? She supposed she wasn't slow, her legs were long, and she had been building up a labourer's fitness since The Mischief had docked. Her endurance was better than her speed, or her ability to swing the blasted blade she'd bought.

Despite whole-heartly understanding the urgency, and the reason as to why the man so angrily barked the command, Naia had to make a conscious effort not to have her fists fly up. If a Lia could handle a ship without needed to raise her voice, then the brute of a man should have been able to carry out a simple conversation with two women without doing so. Nephti's quick movement, and stringing of words in a tongue that was not any that she knew of, broke her from irritation, and she made a note that perhaps it was time she gained a better handle on her emotions.

"Your native tongue? Beautiful, but I do not know it," she wet her lips, and rolled tense shoulders, beginning a walk in the direction she assumed to be the battlefield, taking in notes and observations that she hoped would come in handy, a few words in Fratava falling from her own mouth in play, "I don't suppose you know my mother's tongue?"

She didn't wait expectantly upon the woman, and only shot a short look to her as her path drew by those that were injured. Some appeared to be gravely wounded, others only light. The majority of the men and women seemed to have sweaty brows and heaving lungs- were these signs of pain, or fatigue, she wondered? Were they grave numbers of mild skill that they waged against, mild numbers of terrifying skill- a place in between, or at any of the extremes?

She took her blade from its sheath and took note of its weight, then, and inspected its edge. She should have practiced more, trained a little, but if it was only the aiding of those wounded in battle that she was tasked with, perhaps all would be well enough. So long as Nephti could hold her own, that was. She wasn't sure she had enough grace in the wild swinging of a saber for the both of them. "Now... Do we want to come up with a plan, or..." she hummed, blade loose hand, her pace quickening towards what she assumed was a battlefield, turning on her heal such that she walked backwards, able then to meet the multi-armed young woman's gaze. "Are we going to wait and see?"
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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Nephti on March 14th, 2016, 5:28 pm

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It was Naia who pointed out the Arumenic. Nephti blushed from the mistake, opening her mouth to speak, but the woman was already walking away, speaking in her own mother's tongue. "Beautiful," Nephti replied, reminding herself to stick to Common. The woman weighed up her blade, Nephti still holding hers outstretched and pointed towards the noises that came from all around them.

They headed towards them, of course, Nephti's arms tensing a little. She wanted to help, she needed to help, but she was scared. Nepthi was only small, only young, inexperienced with her scimitar and with the setting of a battlefield. Whatever was out there, it was dangerous. The injured showed just that.

But Priskil wouldn't have sent her here to die. She had to be positive, vigilant, but most of all, have hope. She needed hope for herself, but hope for everyone else. That was why she was here. Finding herself smiling Priskil marched forward, watching the woman who walked in front of her, but backwards.

"I can hold sword and other things, lots." She gestured towards her arms, trying to get the message across. In a situation like this, they could be incredibly useful. But at the same time, she would barely be able to lift an adult, not if they didn't help her. She definitely wasn't strong in the physical sense, and made this clear. "But need help if heavy."

She shrugged, not good at this plan making thing. If Naia had anything better to add, she would go along with it. If not, they would wait and see. Nephti kept her eyes peeled, searching for something. What that something was, she didn't know. Monsters? Humans? The city itself? Anything could be dangerous, but if she remained vigilant, it wouldn't have the element of surprise.

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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Naia Whitewater on November 4th, 2017, 12:44 pm

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Naia couldn’t help but snort when the younger woman brought attention to her multiple arms, the huffed breath that shot through gritted teeth a measure against inappropriate reactions in such situations. She’d have to talk to her, once all was done- about her peoples. There’d been something nagging in the back of her mind about them, but in all her travels, she’d yet to meet their kind. When the world was full of such vibrant people, myths, and monsters- it was almost always too much to think of at once.

The Svefra had never bothered in learning about things that were not an immediate issues, for pondering the southern deserts meant less mind on the ground beneath her feet. It was a perhaps one of the many little shortcomings that she ought to change.

“We’ll help eachother,” it was as much a plead as a promise. Naia was a woman of moderate height and dexterity, and she’d knocked a few men down in her time- but the endurance that their task would require? She’d burn out dragging just a few grown men and women to healers.

It wasn’t a moment after her words had fallen from her lips, and her concerns surfaced in mind, that she locked eyes with a stout man dragging another. A deep cut above his brow gushed blood and obscured half the Alvad’s vision, but she could see help in his gaze. “We’re not even at the battle field yet,” she quickened her pace, her tone almost conveying complaint, the two women barely beyond what she’d consider the confined of the encampment – perhaps a several dozen meters from safety. “We could ask to be filled in while we help them about to healer’s,” she nodded at her own words, reasoning with herself.
“I can bear the weight.”

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Call to Arms (Nepthi)

Postby Nephti on November 12th, 2017, 9:50 pm

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"Of course," Nephti agreed, smiling at the suggestion of working together. Of course they were together, at the very least, because both weren't fully competent, and maybe together, their skills would amount to something. Being together would make them so much more useful than alone. Besides, she didn't want to be alone - she was scared, inside, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

Her feet sped up to match the pace of the other woman, aware that she was eager to help. It wasn't that Nephti wasn't. It was just that she walked slower - her legs were shorter, was that a good enough excuse?

It wasn't that she was scared... just that she didn't know what was happening and, with her lack of skill, whether she could defend herself from whatever was out there. Because who knew what was out there.

Her grip on her weapon remained incredibly tight as she surveyed the scene of destruction and disorder. The noise was everywhere, impossible to escape, but that wasn't what bothered her. The scent of death was thick in the air, and it was sickening. She couldn't breath without inhaling smoke and blood and rotting flesh.

How many had perished? How many were to go?

As they walked through the narrow alleyways - she was almost glad because they meant there was only ahead and behind, and they knew behind was safe - the noise grew nearer, until the skirmish could be seen, clearly. They were just out of reach, and the undead were masked by the people struggling against them.

A dark-skinned woman hobbled with an injured Isur towards them. While it wasn't clear the extent of his injuries, the mundane arm was coated in blood, and his breath was heavy. Nephti rushed up, trying to help but struggling under the weight. She looked up to the other woman, pleadingly. "Before..." the wall of fighters broke. Before the undead headed towards them. Who knew how long they could hold it up.

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Nephti
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Joined roleplay: May 31st, 2015, 5:44 pm
Race: Eypharian
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