- Messages
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- Character Biography
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They were surely as good as dead.
To see this behemoth of a monster, a creature she could not fathom being strong enough to bring it down. Livia's magic was to find a path, to lead her the right way, and she did that for Ivan without it's presence, but that triumph was soon wasted as Ivan was blocked and thrown by this beast.
Her heart leapt up her throat, and she stifled it, begged her lips to keep shut and not to let out that sob she knew was coming.
She would rather kill more soldiers than deal with this impossible thing.
Panic rose to her olive eyes, watching as Ivan caught the brunt of the beast's sweeping blow, a force that carried wind that washed over Quinnick. The smell of decay made her want to gag, but the continuous onslaught of undead came her way, before the stragglers diverted towards Ivan, slowly recovering.
That was all the attention she could spare her colleague.
Livia stared down the still growing number of long dead soldiers and beings, arrow after arrow shooting to find their mark. She lost herself to the task, shooting them down to slow before they inevitably sank and became lifeless.
But it was all for naught.
A deafening cry overwhelmed her ears, and Livia released that stifled whimper. "No!" She looked to Ivan again, hot tears welling in her eyes. It was desperate, how she finished her quiver at her back and began to pull from the reserves either side of her hips. Livia began to move, doing her best to reach where Ivan began to rise with difficulty.
The fear and helplessness she felt only made her corruption magic pull at her consciousness, coaxing, convincing Livia to give in. To give up... or was it to finally accept the very depths she could fall to it's intoxication? It was magic not of her blood, not of her natural affinity, but it was all she had left.
Livia stopped feet away from Ivan and kept back the number of undead. At this rate, she will have no more arrows left and only the daggers strapped to her person. "How does it have magic when our own is gone?" A shiver ran down her spine, magic reminding her not all of it was gone... she just had to dig deep, but Livia was never one to dive head first. Her eyes lifted, watching as horn became weapon of the beast and she used this moment of reprieve to help Ivan stand. "I cannot keep shooting arrows, Ivan." But she could, and then what? Succumb to her fate?
Ivan Skender
To see this behemoth of a monster, a creature she could not fathom being strong enough to bring it down. Livia's magic was to find a path, to lead her the right way, and she did that for Ivan without it's presence, but that triumph was soon wasted as Ivan was blocked and thrown by this beast.
Her heart leapt up her throat, and she stifled it, begged her lips to keep shut and not to let out that sob she knew was coming.
She would rather kill more soldiers than deal with this impossible thing.
Panic rose to her olive eyes, watching as Ivan caught the brunt of the beast's sweeping blow, a force that carried wind that washed over Quinnick. The smell of decay made her want to gag, but the continuous onslaught of undead came her way, before the stragglers diverted towards Ivan, slowly recovering.
That was all the attention she could spare her colleague.
Livia stared down the still growing number of long dead soldiers and beings, arrow after arrow shooting to find their mark. She lost herself to the task, shooting them down to slow before they inevitably sank and became lifeless.
But it was all for naught.
A deafening cry overwhelmed her ears, and Livia released that stifled whimper. "No!" She looked to Ivan again, hot tears welling in her eyes. It was desperate, how she finished her quiver at her back and began to pull from the reserves either side of her hips. Livia began to move, doing her best to reach where Ivan began to rise with difficulty.
The fear and helplessness she felt only made her corruption magic pull at her consciousness, coaxing, convincing Livia to give in. To give up... or was it to finally accept the very depths she could fall to it's intoxication? It was magic not of her blood, not of her natural affinity, but it was all she had left.
Livia stopped feet away from Ivan and kept back the number of undead. At this rate, she will have no more arrows left and only the daggers strapped to her person. "How does it have magic when our own is gone?" A shiver ran down her spine, magic reminding her not all of it was gone... she just had to dig deep, but Livia was never one to dive head first. Her eyes lifted, watching as horn became weapon of the beast and she used this moment of reprieve to help Ivan stand. "I cannot keep shooting arrows, Ivan." But she could, and then what? Succumb to her fate?
Ivan Skender