Someone needs to be taught a lesson (Clyde, Ahilya)

[Ahilya]

Ahilya looked back at the mage as he told her not to kill anyone and she flattened her ears in response. Even though her animal instincts were telling her to tackle down her prey she'd been tracking and kill it, she knew that she would end up paying for it. She wasn't allowed to kill anything, the trainers had drilled that into her head over and over again. She'd never once been given a live meal when she was on rare occasions in her shifted form. She had been raised to understand that if she killed something, she was a threat and would be killed herself. Wanting to make the trainers happy, Ahilya listened. She shy'd away from him as he started doing more of his magic stuff with the ground under them. This wasn't something she knew and it was making the hair on her back stand on end. As he shot the dirt created lance into the clearing, Ahilya took off to the right, staying in the trees as she made a wide circle around the group. She moved swiftly and silently through the underbrush all while keeping her eyes on the group between her and the mage. Watching how they reacted and if any of them tried to run, she would spring out and block their path. Surely her speed would be faster than theirs and keeping them corralled in the clearing so the mage could deal with them would be easy enough work.

[Persona]

"Maybe if we give ourselves up, they won't punish us too badly," a timid female voice was saying, right before Clyde's spike penetrated the thief's leg. "AAAAAARGH!" he cried in pain. "Run!" he grunted to the others. Neither of them were any use in a fight, and if he could buy them enough time, they might be able to escape. The man took the girl and dragged her to her feet, while the thief picked up his crossbow, scanning the forest for the source of the attack. The two slaves only made it a few dozen yards before the large cat found them. There was a high-pitched scream... which turned out to have come from the man. The girl was too petrified to make a noise. The man defended himself by throwing the girl at the cat and running in the opposite direction. "Sorry toots! It's every man for himself!" Meanwhile, the man Clyde had wounded was firing his crossbow. His keen eyes had managed to pick Clyde out of the trees, based on the direction of the shouting. The bolt whizzed rapidly toward its destination. Though, the pain weakened the crossbowman, and his aim was lower than he was used to. The arrow pierced Clyde's thigh. Knowing his enemy was still alive, he struggled to quickly load another bolt into the crossbow.

[Clyde Sullins]

As the thief had a leg skewered through by his spike, a smile came over Clyde's face. Though it was not exactly a normal smile... It was off... An odd mix of glee, pleasure, power, and a sense of himself, seeing how futile these little mundane beings were, against his power... Never a good sign, when such thoughts began to run through his head. Seeing him take up his crossbow, Clyde lifted both arms upward, pulling a chunk of earth out of the ground, guarding his torso should he shoot at him. That was were most people shot, as it was the easiest to hit. Unfortunately for him, the mans aim was off, and instead it hit his exposed thigh. Clyde saw red, as a rage overtook him, at this worthless scum. Attacking him! Him! He was not worthy to wipe his boots of filth, let alone attack him! Him, a mage! Him! Letting out a combined yell of pain and anger, he hefted the chunk of earth before him, feeling the res in it, the bit of himself soaked into the earthen chunk, allowing him to control it, pushing on it and prodding it... He thrust both arms forward, and tossed the chunk of earth at the wounded thief, trying to crush him beneath it. But he was not done yet, still in a rage. He yanked up another chunk of earth, and then a second, shaping them by swirling his hands, and stretching them out into a pair of spikes a good 3 or 4 foot long each. His djed rushing through his body, burning its way through like lava, his body on fire in his rage, coursing into his magic and imbuing it with his rage. He wanted to kill this man who would dare attack him, with every fiber of his entity. He flowed excess res from the ground into them, making sure each one was soaked. That way if he missed, there might be enough left to yank it back out, and send it back in. With a punch of his fists, both spikes were sent hurtling at the man, one aimed at his chest, the other at his head. His vision suddenly clear, he could see his foe with a reddish tinge to his silhouette, as he attacked him, letting out another yell. Once they struck, whether they hit or missed him, whether he was alive or dead, Clyde would yank back on the spikes, trying to pull them back with whatever res was left, and send them hurtling back into his body for a second time. If he missed, aiming at the same spots. If he hit, for slightly different spot, on the same part of his body. All thought of the slaves forgotten for a moment, he pulled up the res out of the ground, bringing it up into the air to float along with him, as he tried to limp towards the man, who had damaged him.

[Persona]

Clyde's wrath was truly terrible to behold. By the time the mage was through punching holes in the crossbowman, there was more hole than man. Around this time, the other two slaves came running back into the clearing, throwing themselves upon Clyde's mercy. Certainly a life of servitude was better than being devoured by wild beasts, and Ahilya had seemed particularly wild. Clyde had little trouble taking the slaves back to the Slave Market. Those who had tried to run away were thoroughly disillusioned by their little misadventure, and went quietly back into their shackles. The slave owners were overjoyed to have their property back, and Ahilya was rewarded for her help with much patting of the head. Samara was still around, though the other Ebonstryfe and the thief were gone. With a glance, she took in the absence of a second prisoner, and drew an accurate conclusion. "Only one prisoner then? Pity," she said in a low, musical voice. She walked past him, to leave, but paused as if she had forgotten something. She added casually over her shoulder, "Still, recovering all of the prisoners was good work." With that remark, she left, giving Clyde no indication of when, if ever, he might expect to hear from her or the Stryfe again. Before Clyde could respond in any way, one of the slavers approached him. "We cannot thank you enough for the service you have rendered us tonight. Not only have you recovered stolen property, but you have saved our reputation by returning the slaves almost before they were discovered missing. I think thieves will think twice about trying to steal slaves from us again. As a token of our appreciation, I would like to offer you a reward." He handed Clyde an official-looking piece of parchment. "One free slave of your choice. When you find a slave who suits you, just present this voucher and the slave will be yours." The slaver gave Clyde a friendly grin and then went off to oversee the return of the slaves to their rightful places.

Thread Award! Clyde Sullins: Skills: Investigation +1 Intimidation +4 Interrogation +1 Leadership +1 Rowing +1 Logic +1 Reimancy +2 Lores: A Collar is a Sign of a Kelvic Slave Extras: Wound: Bolt to the Thigh The wound itself will heal in half a season, but it will leave a scar, and it will occasionally pain you if you put too much strain on it over the next year. Possessions: + Voucher for One Slave Valued Below 1000 GM Redeemable at a participating Slave Market near you. Notes: Happy (belated) birthday Clyde Enjoy your presents, and maybe work on that temper. Try not to impale TOO many people with your overpowered Reimancy Ahilya: Your grade is being withheld until you update your ledger. Please PM me when you have done so or with any questions/concerns. If you feel this grade was unfair in any way, or would like to request changes to this grade, please feel free to PM me and we can discuss it.