Aug 18, 2019 6:07 pm
Flames, hungry and filled with the vileness of men, erupted all around the crumbling stockade of sand and stone. A cacophony of screams of the dying and the victory cheers of the living echoed on the blood stained battlefield in what was a courtyard of another nameless settlement. Another siege, another site of slaughter, another page in the growing book of the Last War. Yet unlike the other stories, you are in this one, driven choice or thrust in by fate.
You're currently crouching behind the remains of a fallen tree, an unfortunate casualty, struck down by the eldritch cannons. Now the tree only serves to mask your presence and grant you a better vantage point over the ongoing chaos. Chaos, no word better than chaos to describe the milling of the multitude with murderous intent. Your eyes dart here and there, looking for that moment you can traverse from this cover onto another. You've marked your target and you know where it lies. As fortune would have it, being caught out in the open would not be an easy thing. The namelss battle as you know it is almost over, and there are just too many bodies walking, running, and falling. It would be child's play to blend in and simply move up to the Karrnath commander's tent. But you were surveying the scene for something else, particularly someone else that has the same reason you're here for. And so you wait a bit more and hope and dread.
You have traveled light from your camp a few miles off, carrying only the basic tools that you need to complete your task. Only a battered and obviously empty scroll case made of ivory and iron straddle uncomfortably on your back. It was strange that your employer insisted that you would only carry the item you needed to liberate with you in that specific container. But then again you've had your share of the strange and erratic to last five lifetimes. Perhaps to keep the wards of the scroll in slumber? No, your employer was not specific why, and a couple more dragonshard crystals to your collection kept you from questioning even further. Your employer knows you and knows your skill, loathes your weaknesses and adores your strength. He has sent you on a dozen missions prior and each one you returned with your boon.
Another hot wind blows, laden with ash and death, and you adjust your cloak again and checked straps again on each belt on every each bag on you. Moments pass and you feel that you have done enough waiting. But you congratulate yourself as your waiting has paid off when you catch a blur of movement to your right flank, a good thousand paces away. Your keen eyes, and the magnification of an ocular tells you that it was neither combatants nor refugees. Not to your surprise, the blur quickly changes to that of a cloaked figure, skulking and lurking behind thick brambles.
An amateur, you thought. Only an untrained fool could be so careless.
You continue to observe your poor adversary, your confidence building into wave until you noticed an odd thing. The cloaked figure stands and waves directly at you before it blends into shadow. Your wave crashes and falls. You know that motion so well. You know her. You knew her in a different life. Your confidence turns into a grim desire.
She will not have my prize.
The yellow symbol is you and the red one is that of your competitor.
You're currently crouching behind the remains of a fallen tree, an unfortunate casualty, struck down by the eldritch cannons. Now the tree only serves to mask your presence and grant you a better vantage point over the ongoing chaos. Chaos, no word better than chaos to describe the milling of the multitude with murderous intent. Your eyes dart here and there, looking for that moment you can traverse from this cover onto another. You've marked your target and you know where it lies. As fortune would have it, being caught out in the open would not be an easy thing. The namelss battle as you know it is almost over, and there are just too many bodies walking, running, and falling. It would be child's play to blend in and simply move up to the Karrnath commander's tent. But you were surveying the scene for something else, particularly someone else that has the same reason you're here for. And so you wait a bit more and hope and dread.
You have traveled light from your camp a few miles off, carrying only the basic tools that you need to complete your task. Only a battered and obviously empty scroll case made of ivory and iron straddle uncomfortably on your back. It was strange that your employer insisted that you would only carry the item you needed to liberate with you in that specific container. But then again you've had your share of the strange and erratic to last five lifetimes. Perhaps to keep the wards of the scroll in slumber? No, your employer was not specific why, and a couple more dragonshard crystals to your collection kept you from questioning even further. Your employer knows you and knows your skill, loathes your weaknesses and adores your strength. He has sent you on a dozen missions prior and each one you returned with your boon.
Another hot wind blows, laden with ash and death, and you adjust your cloak again and checked straps again on each belt on every each bag on you. Moments pass and you feel that you have done enough waiting. But you congratulate yourself as your waiting has paid off when you catch a blur of movement to your right flank, a good thousand paces away. Your keen eyes, and the magnification of an ocular tells you that it was neither combatants nor refugees. Not to your surprise, the blur quickly changes to that of a cloaked figure, skulking and lurking behind thick brambles.
An amateur, you thought. Only an untrained fool could be so careless.
You continue to observe your poor adversary, your confidence building into wave until you noticed an odd thing. The cloaked figure stands and waves directly at you before it blends into shadow. Your wave crashes and falls. You know that motion so well. You know her. You knew her in a different life. Your confidence turns into a grim desire.
She will not have my prize.
[ +- ] OOC
The yellow symbol is you and the red one is that of your competitor.
