And the Riots Come

by **Syveris** on January 16th, 2014, 6:46 pm

Syveris tried to focus on the men in front of her. There was really no way she could fight both of them at the same time. So she had to move really quickly, if she wanted to have any chance, which was also a problem, since she wasn't that familiar with the Talon Sword yet. Maybe she should have trained a little more during the season.

The man with the sharp metal sprinted forward, approaching her, and Syveris moved out of the way, the point of the metal scratching her left arm, but not making any serious damage. This was the chance she needed, though, and she swung the sword, hitting the man's back and throwing him on the ground with the impact. He screamed, and she felt nauseous again, but there wasn't a lot of time to think, because in her movement she had turned her back to the other man. The Dek grabbed her hair, pulling her head back with force. Syveris screamed, more of surprise than pain.

She stopped moving when the Dek pressed the weapon he was holding, a wooden mace, on her back, and pulled her hair even more. She could feel the metal tip of the mace on her back, and it frightened her, specially because she hadn't noticed the mace was made of anything else other than wood. If she moved, the Dek could easily injure her. And the man knew that, because he was taking his time, pressing just a little before stopping and waiting, as if he was trying to frighten her. Well, it was working.

If she stayed still, he would end up killing her. And the last Dek she had thrown on the ground was getting up. Syveris held her breath, before taking the sword with both hands and spinning around. The Dek released her so he could get out of the way of her blade, but the mace tip managed to scratch her back. The Avora wanted to curse everything and everyone, knowing she would have a few more scratches and cuts before the day ended. But if she could get out of it alive, than it was enough.

Something that was getting more and more unlikely to happen. The Dek had released her, but the other had finally managed to get up, the cut in his back not deep enough to make him incapacitated in any way. Now there was a man on each side, and nowhere to run on the small tunnel.

by **Turrin** on February 13th, 2014, 4:02 am

Turrin saw the men where about a hundred feet away from him, so he quickly pulled his short bow from his back. Holding the bow in his left hand, Turrin pulled a broad tipped arrow from his quiver and placed it on the bowstring. The Endal lifted his bow till the tip of the metal arrow lined up with the largest dek's chest. The warrior noticed the largest Dek were moving as quick as the Chiet since the deformities on his hip made it difficult for him to move quickly. Pulling back the bowstring to his cheek, Turrin adjusted his aim, so the metal tip of the arrow lined up the chest of the quicker and less deformed Dek. He figured if he could take out the strongest one first. It would take him less time to deal with the weaker and slower one. Taking in a shallow breath, Turrin released the bowstring on the exhale. The Endal watched the arrow soar through the air towards the chest of the smaller Dek. The arrow soared straight, but at the last tick, it started veer down and plunged deep into the stomach of his enemy. In shock, the smaller Dek dropped his weapon, dropped to his knees, and covered the bleeding wound his dirty hands.

Turrin knew the Dek wouldn't be joining his larger comrade, so he turned his focus to larger Dek. He was to close to get another shot with his bow, so Turrin dropped his short sword and cried out in common, “For the glory of Myri!” Unsheathing his talon sword, Turrin charged his opponent with his talon sword off to the side with the point of the blade aimed at the ground. When the two men got in range to strike, the large Dek swung the broken table leg down and across Turrin's body. The Endal predicted the attack, stepped forward. and swung the talon sword up and across his own body to intercept the Dek's attack. When the two weapons clashed, Turrin cleaved the broken table leg in two. The Dek started to back peddle when he saw his weapon was just a stump, but the Endal wasn't going to allow this man to live since he would just hurt another person if he found the mob again. Slowly stalking the Inarta, Turrin had a small grin on his face as the heat of battle and blood lust started to consume the Myrian warrior. Suddenly, the Dek threw the wooden stump at the Endal. Turrin tried to bat it away with his sword, but he missed and the wood hit him hard in the left shoulder.

The Myrian stumbled back from the blow and growled in anger as the Dek started to run back down the hall. Turrin started to stalk him again and said to out loud in common to the fleeing lower caste, “Where are you going Dek? Dira is expecting you!”

As Turrin muttered coward under his breath, the large Dek reached down, picked up his partner's club, and growled in Nari to Turrin,”...You are all talk Endal. I kill one of you already, so now you die too!”

When the Dek started to charge, Turrin got in his defensive stance holding the sword out in front and pointing the tip of his sword at the head of the Dek. When the Dek got into range, Turrin stepped to his left side and swung horizontally across the belly of the Dek, but the Dek saw it coming and jumped back out of the reach of Turrin's blade. Surprisingly the Dek was able to recover and thrust splintered end of the table leg into the chest of the Endal. Turrin was to slow in side stepping the Dek's attack, so the sharp splinters of the broken table leg bit into the Endal's left shoulder. Feeling his blood trickle from his shoulder, Turrin gritted his teeth and jumped back from the Dek. The Dek lifted his weapon over his weapon and swung down with all his force onto the head of the Endal. Turrin raised his sword horizontally above his head, so the force of the club struck the edge of the sword instead of Turrin. The Endal could feel the Dek pushing down his weapon, so he pushed up with equal with equal force. Turrin could tell this was a battle of strength now as he competed with the Dek for dominance. Feeling the Dek's rancid breath on his face, Turrin suddenly tilted his sword down letting the Dek's club slide off his own sword. The Endal could see the Dek start to loose his balance, so he stepped out of the way of the Dek as he stumbled past him.

Turrin quickly turned around and slashed horizontally across the exposed back of the Dek. The sharp blade of the talon sword cleave a deep gash into the back of the Dek. The deformed man stumble forward as he tried to crawl away from the Endal. Turrin walked forward and lifted his booted foot and drove it straight down into the middle of the back of the human. The Dek crumbled into the ground by the force of the blow. Turrin lifted his sword and said to Myri with a smile on his face, “Myri! May you accept the blood of these barbarians as a proper gift of our victory!” Plunging the curved sword into the back of the Dek, the Myrian impaled the Dek to the floor with his sword. He felt the human spasm for a tick, so he twisted his sword to cause more internal damage. The Dek started violently twitch as his life bled from his body, but the Myrian kept him in place with his foot till the dek laid still beneath his boot.

by **Syveris** on February 15th, 2014, 12:22 pm

Think. Syveris took a deep breath, realizing she was probably dead. But she wouldn't give up, she just couldn't. The Avora had come too far on this stupid season to just give up, to die in the Arms Gallery, a place she had come to hate more than appreciate. No, she couldn't just die there.

As quickly as she could, Syveris turned, her two hands holding the Talon Sword horizontally. The blade entered the Dek's side, making him scream and drop the metal in surprise. Blood spilled out, and it wasn't long before he fell on the ground, dead. Tears sprung from her eyes, but her mind was quickly taken off the Dek when she felt something heavy hit her left shoulder, near her neck.

It was her time to scream and drop her weapon, the pain something very similar to what she had felt when she fell from the Edge of the World. Desperation made her body ran forward, getting out of range of the Dek behind her. But she knew it was only a matter of time before he reached her again.

And he did. Grabbing her arms, he trapped her. Syveris kicked and moved, but the Dek was surprisingly strong. Maybe not surprisingly, since he was forced to work almost all waking hours, but still... He turned around, making her face the tunnel's opening to the Gallery, and her shoulder ached. Syveris felt pain each time she moved, although she wasn't sure whatever or not she had dislocated it.

There were more dead or injured bodies on the ground than people standing up, and fear consumed her. In the mess of the fight, she couldn't tell which one were Chiet and which one Avora. There were probably a Dek or two left alive, but if there were many Chiet, then they were doomed.

"This is what you and your petching shyke caused." the Dek whispered in her ear, and Syveris could feel the smell of alcohol. "You mistreat and misjudge us, without giving us any chance. Do you know what made me a Dek?" the Avora forced herself not to throw up, and struggled once more, trying to free herself. What did she care? If he was a Dek, as far as she was concerned, he deserved to be a Dek. "Because I have tremors. I couldn't handle birds, I couldn't handle crafts, so I was made a petching Dek."

Syveris couldn't feel the tremors, but then, she was struggling too much. If he had tremors, he shouldn't be able to hold her down, should he? Her panicked mind couldn't reason or think straight, and, in truth, all that mattered was that she needed to get free.

A Dek killed an Avora on the Gallery, the sharp sword he was holding probably one he found laying around. He then turned, saw the Dek holding her, and began to move towards them. Syveris felt her fear transform to panic, and she kicked and struggled even more, her right foot hitting the weapon stall. She screamed in pain again, although this time she was sure she hadn't broke anything.

"Oh, Ryet." the Dek behind her greeted the other. "Kill this one too." at that, Syveris struggled with renewed strength, although the pain in her shoulder was raising each time more. It finally reached a point where she could barely move, tears of pain and fear falling from her eyes. Her whole body hurt, and breathing suddenly became hard again.

The Dek, however, just kept staring at her, his eyes as frightened as hers. The lontev he wore allowed her to see a huge scar that raised from his right foot and disappeared inside the cloth. It was probably the reason he limped so much. A huge burn could also been seen on the left side of his neck, and the looks of it alone could have easily put him into the Dek caste. He said nothing, just stared, the bloody sword on his shaky hand.

"Come on, Ryet. It's this shyke fault you're like this, after all?" at that, Syveris began to cry, sobbing, each movement paining her shoulder. Her fault? She had done absolutely nothing. She had never placed anyone in the Dek caste, she would remember if she had. "Shut up!"

Ryet raised the sword, and Syveris prepared for the blow, closing her eyes and trembling in fear. After a while, she did fall, but felt nothing different from the pain in her former injuries. Opening her eyes, she looked at the Dek in front of her, his eyes just as full of tears as hers. Looking back, she saw that the Dek that was holding her now laid on the floor, head cracked open and the Talon Sword sticking out of it.

Syveris struggled once again, rolling to her side and throwing up on the floor. It was just too much, the feeling overwhelming her.

"I don't want this." a faint whisper came, and she looked at the Dek, Ryet. He had saved her. Syveris couldn't understand, but he had. And he looked just as terrified as her. Maybe he had been dragged along, as now that Syveris looked closer, the boy couldn't be older than her, probably sixteen or seventeen years old.

None of that mattered, though, only that he had saved her. The simple fact that she was still breathing was enough to make her grateful, to make her want to help him too.

Her shoulder, her foot and the cut on the side of her body ached, the pain making hard for her to think straight. She needed to get out, find a healer, a doctor, anyone who could help her. Syveris looked at the Dek again, seeing he trembling and crying. With great effort, she straightened her body up, limping towards one of the fallen Talon Swords.

Now, she needed to get both her and the boy out of the Gallery, in safety. How she would do that, she still had no idea.

by **Turrin** on February 15th, 2014, 5:21 pm

Seeing movement out of the corner of his eyes, Turrin looked over and saw the smaller Dek staring at him with a dagger in hand. Turrin could tell the teenager's life was trickling away with every tick that passed from the earlier arrow wound, but the Myrian had to respect the young man's courage and dignity to die fighting instead of whimpering and dying in a corner. The young man must be no older than seventeen. It was a waste that he had to throw away his life, but at least the teenager had enough pride to die as a warrior and not a slave. The young Inarta stared at him with wide eyes, but he didn't back away. Turrin started to realize that he must be a imposing sight covered in the blood and gore of his fallen comrade, and now the Endal was slowly walking toward him with his talon out to the side like a tiger stalking his prey. Suddenly, the young man looked past him and spoke in Nari,“...I am not afraid of you, Dira. I know that I am going to die, but I will not you choose my fate for me...” Turrin wasn't sure if the death goddess was standing behind him now, or if it was just a figment of his dying hallucination. The teenager looked at the Endal and said with a bloody smile, “I am Tyell! Son of Misha. My mother Misha was Avora a hunter, but she died in the djed storm. They made me a Dek...because I couldn't concentrate on my studies, and I was never good at anything anyways, but I want to be remembered for something...anything other than a worthless Dek...”

Turrin could tell the man was barely holding onto life, and the Myrian respected his determination to keep living. This Tyell son of Misha wanted his meaningless life to be remembered by someone even if his memory will live on in the man that killed him. The Myrian knew that he needed to give this warrior a proper and respectful death a death worthy of a honored enemy of Myri. Turrin saluted the young Inarta with his sword and said with a smile, “My name is Turrin Aponivi of the Twisted Vine, and I promise you, Tyell son of Misha. I will honor your memory as a warrior by wielding your blade in future battles. Are you ready to dine at Dira's table with your mother tonight?” The young man gave him a bloody grin and charged his last enemy. Turrin held his sword out in front of him as he waited for Tyell to get closer. When the Inarta was in striking distance, the young man thrust the dagger at his chest. Turrin parried the feeble attack by swinging his talon sword to his left and deflecting the dagger from it's deadly path. The Myrian stepped forward and pressed the curved blade against the stomach of his enemy with all his strength and slowly pulling it horizontally across the soft tissue of his abdomen spilling the contents of his stomach on the floor.

Turrin stepped out of the way of the dead man as he fell to the floor. Tyell was very dead as he laid face down on the floor in pool of his own blood, but the Myrian made a promise that he would fulfill the vow that he promised to him that he would have a death worthy of a enemy of Myri. Turrin turned the body of Tyell over and pried the dagger from his dead hands. When he looked at the dagger, he realized that it wasn't a typical dagger. The weapon (kukri) was heavy and the dagger's blade was slightly curved with the sharp side of the dagger inside the curve. Looking over the body, he found a curved sheathe. Turrin figured it was the sheathe to the strange dagger, so he unbuckled it from his belt. Holding the dagger with body hands, Turrin lifted it over the body of his enemy, closed his eyes, and said a prayer to Myri in common, “My Goddess! I bring you victory in the land of barbarians! I offer the body and soul of Tyell son of Misha as tribute to your endless glory! May you lead his soul from the darkness to your glorious light!”

Turrin plunged the curved dagger into the young man's chest. Hearing the initial crunch of bone, he started to pulled the heavy curved dagger down through the man's chest. With every yank, the sound of crunching bone told him his progress opening the ribcage was a success. Eventually, he enough through his ribcage to stick his hand into it. Grabbing each side of the ribs, he pulled them apart with both hand exposing the human's heart. Using the curved dagger, Turrin cut away the arteries and veins from the heart. Reaching into the chest cavity, he pulled the heart from the body, held it into the air, and said out loud, “May Tyell's strength renew my strength to continue struggle over the barbarians! For your glory my Goddess Queen!” Cradling the heart in his hand, he brought to mouth and holding to his mouth, He looked up into the rocky ceiling of the inner warren and said softly, “In Myri's name, your memory will be honored and remembered, Tyell!” Biting into tough muscle, Turrin did his best to not waste the sacrifice given to him by his enemy.

Standing up about five chimes later, Turrin wiped his mouth with his arm. The taste of iron in his mouth was strange, but the Myrian just smiled to himself when he realized how sweet the experiencing a intimate part of his fathers culture. Picking up the dagger sheathe, Turrin turned away from the shell of Tyell and walked to the larger Dek. Kneeling down, he wiped off the blade of his talon sword and the dagger on his enemies lontev. When he finished cleaning his weapons, he sheathed his weapons and retrieved his short bow from the ground. Strapping the dagger to his belt, Turrin slug the short bow to his shoulders. Turrin could feel his body and soul yearn for more blood, glory, and the heat of battle, but he needed to find Syveris. His victories would mean nothing if he didn't have her to tell them too. The Myrian started to jog down the hallway. Turrin was determined to find her, and he felt sorry for the poor fool who tried to stop him in his quest to find her.

loot1 kukri

by **Syveris** on February 16th, 2014, 6:35 pm

The Avora drew a deep breath, trying to calm down. She needed to think, and she needed to be calm, even though the pain was great and she was afraid. Right then, all that mattered was getting out of the Gallery and finding her friends. She needed to know they were alright, but she couldn't think too much about them, otherwise the worry would consume her, blocking her thoughts once more.

Syveris watched the Gallery closely, as she thought about her injuries. A scrap in her back and in her left arm, that weren't serious, except that she didn't know if the metals were clean or not. A deep cut on her right side, that was still bleeding, although less than before. Her left shoulder and her right foot, that she still wasn't sure if they was broken or not. But it did hurt.

Trembling with pain, Syveris took off her ragged katinu and threw it towards the Dek. Ryet looked at her, seeming confused, holding the green cloth in his dirty hand.

"Put this on and close it around you. Then put on the hood." Syveris instructed, finally taking the Talon Sword from the ground with her right hand. She flinched when her injured arm moved, and tried to make it stay still. Turning to the Dek, she growled at him, because he was still glaring at her. "Put this on or I will leave you here to die."

Ryet finally obeyed, although he didn't close nor put the hood on. Syveris tried to stay calm. He was a Dek, after all, and he probably had something wrong with his head as well. Approaching the boy, she closed her katinu around him, bringing the hood up and pushing him towards the Gallery. He was limping a lot, but then, so was her. Her only hope was that the surviving Avora would mistake him for one of them, and let him pass.

Slowly, trying to stay unnoticed, Syveris limped towards the exit, passing through the still fighting Avora and Chiet. The remaining Dek had died, and it brought relief to her. Relief that was soon replaced with fear when she looked back and saw a woman charge towards her, a sword in hand.

Syveris shoved Ryet out of the way, making the boy fall down, before she threw herself at the wall and out of the way on the last moment, clenching her teeth in pain when her left shoulder hit the wall. The woman fumbled forward, tripping on Ryet and almost falling. She recovered, though, and turned to the Avora, quickly. Syveris finally recognized her as the woman she had met on the first day of work in the Arms Gallery. An Avora. She was safe.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, weakly. "Wait, it's me! We're Avora, too!" the woman got up, quickly, and Syveris was surprised to see that she was almost unhurt. She was probably a good fighter.

"Why are you leaving, then?" she accused the other, her breath uneven. "We need your help, we..."

There was a loud thump, and the woman fell to the ground, a huge pool of blood coming out of her head. Syveris watched, horrified, before looking up. Ryet was holding a mace, and his eyes were tearing up again.

"Petch... Ryet, put this down now." Syveris gasped, but the boy only shook his head, before going towards her and passing his free arm under her right shoulder, supporting her and leading her towards the exit.

In her chest, there was so many mixed feelings that she thought she would be ill. The Dek had saved her life, twice probably, and killed two Avora in front of her. She was afraid of him, and at the same time she was grateful. Closing her eyes for a moment, she groaned in pain when she tripped on a body. Ryet only kept going, now easier since the fight had moved to the back of the Gallery, few still alive.

The Inner Warrens. They were out. Syveris took a moment to breath, before focusing once again on what she needed to do. Her mind was clouded with pain, but she needed to find her friends. Soon.

by **Turrin** on February 22nd, 2014, 6:39 pm

Feeling the pain his shoulder, Turrin looked down at it. The wound caused by the broken table leg was bloody, but it looked like a sever scratch than a cut. The Endal knew that he needed to cover it, so he looked at his bryda leg and pulled out his kukri from his sheathe. Turning around, Turrin walked over one of the fallen dek and noticed one of them had a cloth pouch. The myrian took it off the body and started to rummage through the contents of the bag. He didn't find anything with much value, but he found a linen scarf. Turrin took it out of the bag and tied it over his shoulder scrap. The Endal knew that he would need to find a healer after the chaos as settled down, but the temporary bandage will do for now. Sheathing the kukri, Turrin made his way into the inner warrens. He figured Syveris would be at her play of employment the Arms Gallery, so he started to jog down the corridor.

As Turrin made his way down the inner warren, the myrian heard a pair of men talk, so the warrior stepped into the shadows and pressed his back against the wall. One of them started to talk in Nari, the youngest one male said, “Did you see the mob? There are hundreds of those vermin heading to the aeries. I hope the Endal kill all the rebels, so we have enough food to eat.” The second and older male said with a shake of his head, “I know your angry after what they did to your girl, but we need to keep a cool head if we are going to survive.” The Endal knew murder wasn't the only tragedy happening during the riots, and the thought of Syveris or Drusilla becoming victim to those crimes made the Endals blood boil. The younger male said angrily, “Master, she curled herself in the corner of my apartment, and she won't speak or let me comfort her, so don't tell me to be calm!“ Turrin fingers kept rubbing the hand of kukri as he slowly side stepped to get a closer look at them. When he got to the edge of the darkness, he noticed a two young men standing in the intersection. Trying to stay in the shadows, Turrin swore under his breath when he accidentally kicked a stone alerting them to his location. Both of the put a hand on their knives as they whirled around when they spotted him.

Turrin put a hand on his talon sword and walked out of the darkness on one side of the inner warren. The Endal stared them a moment, but suddenly, the younger one pulled his knife and stepped in front of the older man and barked at the myrian,“What are you doing here foreigner? Don't you know if the mob finds you. They will kill you?”

Turrin looked into the eyes of the young man and said sharply, “You assume much Avora, and I suggest you sheathe your knife before you loose your hand.” The man looked skilled enough with his knife, so Turrin put his hand on the hilt of his talon sword and continued with a malicious grin, “Besides, I have killed enough people today, so if you would like to join Dira's dinner table tonight. I suggest you put down the knife.”

The young man green eyes narrowed, but the older man put a hand on his younger companion's arm and stepped in front of him. Still keeping a hand on his talon sword, the older man said softly, “You don't act like a foriegner. You voice has authority to it.”

Turrin fingers slide over the glass handle of his talon sword and kept his eyes trained on the young man still holding the knife. The Endal didn't want to kill anymore people, but he wasn't going to show weakness to a pair of Avora. Without looking at old man, Turrin kept his golden eyes trained on the younger man as he said to the older man, “My name is Endal Turrin Aponivi, so yes, I have authority to make your day worse, boy. Put away you knife now!” The young man's eyes went wide when Turrin told him that he was a Endal and put away his knife and mumbled a apology. Turrin took his hand away from the hilt of the talon sword and said to the older man, “You mentioned the mob as made it to the aeries. Have you heard anything about the Arms Gallery?”

The old man said sadly, “The mob came quickly through there, but there are a few looters running around their right now. My apprentice and I are going to join up with Endal and Avora to put down the rebellion at the aeries. Would you like to join us?”

Turrin shook his head and said softly, “No, I can't at the moment. I am looking for someone...She was working in the Arms Gallery today.” The Endal hoped Aponivi was OK, but he doubted the dek or chiet would be stupid enough to attack a wind eagle.

Suddenly the young man shook his head and said with hint of anger in his voice, “You need to get there quickly. My Faia suffered by the hands of those...vermi...” Turrin eyes narrowed at the thought, and he was glad the older man stepped in to silence the young Avora. The old man said to the large Endal, “My apprentice suffered a lot today. Please forgive him.” Turrin nodded understanding and stayed silent. The older man motioned to young man to follow and said to Turrin, “I hope Priskil brings you happiness today. Come on Joren.”

Turrin picked up his pace down the stone corridor. Eventually, he came to the inner warren leading to the arm and craft gallery. The Endal knelt behind a pillar to scout out the scene. Turrin could see that most of the people in the street we Dek taking advantage of the chaos. Some were walking away with weapons, and other were walking away with expensive glass work or fabric. It was a free-for-all, so he doubt that he would be harassed by the thieves. Suddenly, a woman came racing out of the second quiver and started yelling for anyone to help. The lower caste thieves made the woman no mind because they were to busy trying haul away goods to care about the woman's problem. Also, she had the clothing of a Chiet, so she wasn't their enemy. Turrin stepped out of his hiding place behind the pillar and the dek started to scurry away like afraid rats. The Endal knew deks were only brave in a crowd, so he walked up to the chiet and asked with his hand on his sword, “What is happening?”

The woman nervously looked at the ground and assured him, “I am not apart of the mob, sir. I assure you that I want no part of the madness. “

Turrin stuck his hand up and said gently, “I understand, and I suggest you find a place to lay low till it blows over. What is happening?”

The woman said quickly, “She is just a teenager, but the Avora was attacked by a pair of Dek. I am worried they will...”

Turrin knew the woman didn't want to say what they might be doing to the teenage girl, so Turrin UN-slung his short bow from his shoulder and pulled a arrow from his quiver and said softly, “You need to hide. I doubt the mob will take kindly to a Endal sympathizer.”

With his short bow in his hand, Turrin started to race down the corridor to the Second Quiver. When he walked into the Second Quiver, Turrin saw a large dek standing on top of young Inarta woman. The myrian tilted his head when he recognized the voice pleading for them to stop. It was Azira! Turrin growled in anger and placed the arrow on the bowstring. Lifting the short bow, the myrian lifted the short bow till the metal tip of the broad tipped arrow was lined up standing on top of the Azira. Pulling back the bow string to his cheek, Turrin adjusted his aim again, so the tip of the arrow was lined up with the shoulder blades of dek. Taking a shallow breath, Turrin released the arrow on the exhale. Turrin watched the arrow as the missile soared toward the target. When the arrow struck the Dek, the Endal noticed it plunged deeply into the lower back. It wasn't where he was aiming, but it would be enough to get their attention. Turrin quickly pulled another arrow from his quiver and placed on his bow string. Knowing he lost the advantage of surprise the Endal lifted the bow and took aim at the other dek in the room.

by **Azira** on March 22nd, 2014, 8:39 pm

Fear can cause someone to fight to free them self from danger, to discover new strength when it seems that no more can be found but fear can also paralyse. It can make the danger seem so great that you cannot move to save yourself, cannot make a move to even try. When Azira heard the new footsteps, her body froze against her will. Her muscles wouldn’t work, her limbs refused to cooperate and she couldn’t even move her eyes to look at the newcomer. She was helplessly trapped in her uncooperative body, knowing what was coming but not being able to make any move to try to stop it. Despite her immobility, her senses were unusually sharp. Her skin had become hypersensitive, able to feel every bump and groove of the floor beneath her she was sure, even through her clothes. The faces of the leering Dek above her seemed to burn into her retina with the promise of future nightmares and soon another face would enter her field her vision to join the other two in her memory. Her pleas had died on her lips, her voice become soundless but they would see the horror in her eyes through the well of tears.

A twang of a bowstring sounded but it made no sense to her, as it didn’t fit into her current situation. The Dek who had kicked her jolted forward a tick after the twang and some animation returned to her as she flinched away, eyes snapping shut. A heavy weight fell on top of her but she didn’t look, just tried to writhe out from under the body. It took her a few ticks to realise that there was no real resistance from the man atop her, just a low groaning sound and the sound of swearing further above her. Opening her eyes, she found her view blocked by the man’s body. Shoving against him wildly, despite a flare of pain in her ribs, she managed to move him a little off her. The huntress strained to lift her head up to see but succeeded in seeing the feathered shaft of an arrow. It seemed to have penetrated the man’s back and she guessed the meaning of the twang of a bowstring. Someone had come to her aid.

The man was still alive although the Avora wasn’t sure that he could move. She didn’t care either, she hoped he was in agony. She continued her squirming, managing to wriggle her way out from under his dead weight to safety. Crawling on shaky limbs to retrieve her knife, a wild desire formed in her mind. Fingers grasping the hilt, the blood lust truly flared within her. Returning to the helpless man on the floor, she found him still alive, the arrow seemingly paralysing him rather than killing him. As she raised the knife, he proved that he still had some movement as he lifted his arms in a feeble attempt to protect himself. The blade flashed into a hand, a wrist, an arm, a back, until she was stabbing without seeing anymore. All she knew then was blood, the red liquid splattering her face, her hands, her hair. It was everywhere but yet she kept stabbing even after his movements ceased and he was dead. Azira didn’t notice. All she could do was scream and stab until she had a messy corpse beneath her. Then staggering to her feet, she looked for a new victim.

The young woman had to clasp her side in pain as she moved, a fire seeming to flare in her ribs as she moved but it didn’t distract her from her rage. All she wanted was the head and the blood of the other Dek who’d wanted to abuse her. Anybody who had seen her coming for them would have either run or dropped down begging for mercy. She was just red. Blood soaked the cloth of her vinati, dripping down across her stomach. Her hands were solid red, the liquid entirely coating the area up to just past her wrists. It completely covered her and together with the wild look in her eyes and the white of her bared teeth, she looked like a bloodthirsty maniac. She saw Turrin before she saw the other Dek and that gave her pause as she stopped to stare at him, the murderous part of her mind beginning to switch off.

x

Journal · by **Alaia** on July 30th, 2014, 9:04 pm

Syveris

Syveris :

Haplo

Haplo :

Azira

Azira :

Turrin

Turrin :

I will do my best to give you what grades you have earned! However, if there is something you feel I missed or anything you have questions on please don't hesitate to PM me and we can talk.

Weapon: Short Bow	+2 XP
Weapon: Knife	+1 XP
Persuasion	+1 XP

Weapon: Talon Sword	+3 XP
Weapon: Short Bow	+2 XP
Weapon: Kukri	+1 XP
Observation	+2 XP
Intimidation	+1 XP
Rhetoric	+1 XP

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