Private Tales A Monster With No Name

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
When the other woman made her presence known, Livia had drawn her bowstring back and readied herself to loose it, but as that dome came down upon them and trapped them inside, the Initiate felt a strangeness overtake her.

She could not put her finger on it, even as Proctor Ebersol exchanged words with the stranger. Livia was ready to take her shot, releasing her arrow tipped with Everleigh's poison just as the pink glowing ball was thrown their way. She could always count on her weaponry to land true, but she felt the numbness before she was sent backwards.

Livia sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as she landed on her side, her arm protesting angrily as pain shot through her. Her bow had snapped beneath her, and Liv dared not to inspect her quiver. At least she had her knives, but she was a better shot with her archery.

Fuck. It hurt to move her arm, and her eyes fell down to assess the damage. It had been dislocated, but to set it she needed her power. Fuck, fuck, fuck! This hurt. Desperately, she reached for her magic and almost sighed in relief when she felt the familiar warmth and assuring presence and quickly steeled herself before resetting her shoulder back into place. Livia seethed, downplaying the pain she experienced but the tears fell in hot tracks down her cheeks. She was successful, but it would take a couple of weeks resting it to get it back to strength, something she could not afford to ponder now.

She turned her head, watching as the other woman glanced between the Initiate and the Proctor, as if a cat were tossing up which mouse to play with first: the lively mouse or the useless toy.

Livia used her good arm to reach back and pluck two arrows from the quiver at her back after rolling to a position she could prop herself up a little, inserting them between her fingers and rising to meet the woman on her feet.

"Pretty thing you are." She smiled, staring at Liv as she did her best to stand upright and not accomodate to the pain in her reset shoulder. She let out an audible, pained gasp as she moved her injured shoulder, not wanting to appear weak before this threat and opened her eyes. They were angry, pained, and ready to rip into the woman even if she was outmatched.

"Words I doubt you hear often yourself. Anyone ever tell you that you are punching above your weight?" There was no way in Hell that Livia would come away a victor in a fight against this woman, but perhaps with the assistance of the Proctor, they both would stand a chance.


So she had missed her shot with the arrow earlier, a mistake she quickly wanted to rectify if her bow was not out of action. Grateful now that Evie had given it a coating of a poison to her choosing, Livia at least could not be defenceless with her remaining arrows.

She had to be sure of herself, to have full confidence and connection to her magic. It flickered and reared its head, but at her calming approach, magic unseen swirled around her, picking up the arrows from her quiver and prying the two bolts from her hand. Just like she had done her first day of training in Zana's taskforce, Livia stood with a company of arrows poised in midair at her back, ready to be loosed with the same lethal aim a bow could achieve. Her magic did not crackle this time, nor did it waver as it heeded her call. She was not just a compass now, she was soon a force to be reckoned with once the Archon helped her understand this magic that she was not born with. Today, she could put the beginnings of practice to work, to put the theory to test.

"Impressive." The woman cooed, and Liv bared her teeth slightly.

Quinnick loosened the fastening of her quiver and dropped it at her side, eyes trained on the woman. She needed to assess the situation, to calculate their odds here on out. Olive eyes then flicked to look in the background, finding the Proctor and assessing her condition. Livia was decent in combat, but that was when she had two arms in use. She palmed the knife at her thigh with her good hand, poised to send it flying when the timing called for it.

She was not going to go down easily, and perhaps she was stubborn that way, but Livia had the constant need to prove she was worth more than being a compass.

"Let us get this over and done with, Proctor." Vern was still awaiting for their rescue, and Livia was keen to leave this place already.



Everleigh Ebersol
 
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The blast was more of a hindrance than it was lethal, at least for Everleigh who didn’t fight it and had already figured the basic idea of the magic. Condensed in such a small package, either the dreadlord released through telepathy or there was a timer. Everleigh would find out which and any other tricks she had up her sleeve. Something about the heavy hunk of metal made Everleigh think this woman didn’t need to rely on her magic if she could swing that around so easily with one hand.

“Proctor? Then that must make you the dead-initiate-walking.” Everleigh rolled her eyes. Not every quip was a winner and just because the woman wore all black didn’t necessarily make her witty.

Everleigh got up, eyes still glowing gold. She could only hope Livia could follow her lead without speaking to her. Only one person had ever succeeded in that before. It wasn’t going to be fair to Livia whatsoever but that was life: constantly unfair. Only death was fair, but neither Everleigh nor Livia would want to experience that so soon. Everleigh rushed to the lady clad in black, a downward slash with her sword that was easily blocked with the sword. A sizzle could be heard as their steel met, lilac steam hissing into the air.

Keep your eyes on me!” Everleigh demanded, surprisingly not for the first time in her. She had to take a step back, giving herself space as the woman swung her sword in a horizontal arc. Soon, the woman went on the offensive, cackling and say far less wittier things, but Everleigh’s face showed no fear. Little by little, the enemy’s blade would began to dissipate along the parts that met Everleigh’s skinny blade.

Livia Quinnick
 
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Livia slid her knife out from it's confines and gripped it readily in hand, eyes watching for an opening to either send an arrow or knife. Pain tried to pull her focus and succumb to the agony she was ignoring, but through the pained tears, Livia did not take her eyes off of Everleigh and the other woman.

She needed a better angle, her feet moving to stalk in a circle around the two and wait for that divining tell that a target opened up, that her knife would be thrown with accurate precision.

If her magic failed her, if Proctor Ebersol failed her, then Livia had one last resort. Anger was the easiest trigger, and right now it was not hard to call upon her frustration and discomfort of her shoulder to channel into the necessary emotion to wield her magic in multitudes.


Dead-initiate-walking.

Liv was not going to let that happen, nor allow the Proctor become wounded.

Her knife slipped down to her fingers as her hand came upwards, poising to strike just as the rush of magic flittered over her flesh. The knife soared, piercing past the thin armour found on the inside of her arm, just shy of the pits.

Perhaps that should slow her down, Livia thought, her hand moving with a grimace to reach for an arrow behind her, ready to strike if she needed to again. It was frustrating knowing there was no fatal soft spots that became open, but Livia could see with the heavy armour the other woman wore, it would take several chinks in her defenses before she could be slowed.


Everleigh Ebersol
 
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Blood from her still bleeding palm dripped from the hilt of her simple sword. It was embarrassing to admit but Everleigh had to use both hands to wield her blade against the Edgelord. The woman was incredibly strong, wearing armor that had to at least be fifty pounds and holding a sword that was at least ten pounds (judging by how it felt whenever their swords did meet).

Everleigh had to be careful with her movements, making sure that her blade wouldn’t break just from the sheer force alone. It involved such footwork, both with Everleigh being on the defense and trying to lead the woman’s offense until she could make her mess up.

A knife whizzed through the air, hitting one of the few weakpoints found in heavy armor. Everleigh sparred a half-second glance at Livia before her focus was back on the enemy. Once this was over she’d compliment Livia later.

On the ground, the droplets of Everleigh’s blood when begin to coalesce in one spot that the two swordfighting dreadlords were two feet away from. Even blood still on the hilt would somehow drop and drift to that spot. Everleigh tried to push the other dreadlord back into that spot but the woman only came back twice as hard. Everleigh had to take two steps back and glanced at Livia while pivoting to avoid a fatal blow to her face.

Initiate, again!” Even if it meant Everleigh might get hit with a knife or arrow, hopefully it wouldn’t be a fatal blow to herself but could help destabilize the enemy to allow Everleigh to push her back. With her strength alone she couldn’t.

Livia Quinnick
 
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With no need to be told twice, Liv wove her magic between her fingers, fashioning a bow. It held steadily, the drawback tougher than what her physical bow was capable of but Livia had every bit of confidence in herself.

Plucking an arrow from behind her, she readied and nocked it, aiming for the woman attacking the Proctor. An arrow would have more effect once it landed true, and not because of the poison Everleigh had coated onto the arrow point. It was fortunate that Livia had taken this quiver, that the points were made so that they would tear flesh when removed.

And the Edgelord could do with a little more open wounds.

Livia waited until Everleigh got the other woman to expose herself again, the arrow whistling with her magic and embedding into the thin armour. She did not need to be instructed again, another arrow nocked and loosed to squeeze in beside the first arrow. She held fast, plucking another arrow and aiming at the head, but there, the Initiate hesitated. Should she think about it? Dwell on the power she could feel and take that life from this earth, or shoud she regret it and feel sickened to her core?

Her olive eyes watched keenly, noting that the Proctor was unable to get the upper hand most times and was able to hold the other at bay, stalling for time. Livia had plenty of time to end things, to shoot an arrow between the eyes but her magic did not give her that inkling, the cue to take the shot.

Something is not right. Liv watched, expecting the poison Everleigh coated on the points of the arrows to work as quickly as it had on the horses.


Everleigh Ebersol
 
  • Dwarf
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