Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 24, 2017 1:08:45 GMT -6
Circe's breathing was faster and harder, a sign of her exertion, as Drei finished off the last bandit. Despite the wound the shaman had suffered he seemed...remarkably calm. His tone was empty and even as he spoke out to her, curious as to whether or not they had completed their objective. The gang was supposed to have five members and...they'd killed five bandits.
“Yes...yes! We've done it. The mission is a success! Excellent work Drei!”
Even through her fatigue Circe would have made a fist pump. They had done it! SHE had done it! She had led a group into battle and came out of it victorious! The only thing that held her back from outright celebrating was that ever-present arrow in her knee. She had nearly forgotten about it until she had attempted to move off of the hot sand, a sharp throb throughout her leg serving as a reminder.
Frustrated Circe gripped the arrow with both hands. One hand gripped the shaft with the other far closer to the base and, with some small effort and a cry of pain, she yanked the projectile out of her leg. Blood began to flow from the arrow wound, but it wasn't a copious amount. Nazim had bandages on him anyway, as well as water to help clean it.
“Nazim!” Circe called out to the Nabatan man as she steadily got to her feet. The pain in her leg hadn't really faded, but with the arrow no longer embedded her movement didn't feel nearly as restricted. Still he leg began to shake in protest whenever she put too much pressure on it, so she had to lean harder on her uninjured leg instead.
“I-It's over now, right?” Nazim asked as he poked his head out from behind the wagon's railing. He blinked at Circe before he let his gaze wander across the battlefield, relief washing over his expression visibly.
“Mhm. Could you come down and bring me some bandages? Water too...oh, and bring enough for Drei! He's wounded too!” She couldn't forget the shaman. He'd been incredibly helpful, despite those brief doubts she had about him earlier on. Really Circe had only taken out two of the bandits against Drei's three, but ah, she HAD helped him with his third. Not that it mattered to Circe...much...
“Ah! Sure, just le-” Nazim's voice trailed off into a strained gargle. Circe's eyes widened as she saw an arrow, jutting out of Nazim's throat. Ashim let out a horrified cry as Nazim fell over the side of the wagon, landing hard on his back. He clawed at his throat, desperate to try and remove the arrow as blood began to spill out the side of his mouth, staining the sand beneath him.
“NAZIM!” Ashim wailed from within the wagon. He got to his feet, hands on the railing, and stared down at his dying brother, tears filling his eyes.
Slowly Circe turned her head to where the arrow had come from. Behind Drei, well behind him, three more men approached. An archer was among them, and already he knocked another arrow as his group drew close. The other two men wielded curved swords, just like the raiders that Circe and Drei had just cleared out, but their leader seemed to be a woman, with an axe strapped to her waist.
“Hands up, or the other one gets shot.” The woman stated firmly. It took Circe a moment to register the command, her mind still in disbelief at the sight of Nazim. Even then her gaze was fixed on the Nabatan, grief stricken as he reached up towards Ashim, his hand trembling. Ashim seemed exempt from this command, for her reached down and clasped both of his hands around that of his brother's, tears streaking down his cheeks.
“...D-do what she says...Drei...” Circe's gaze slowly turned to the Shaman's, her hands slowly lifted to the sky.
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Post by Drei on Jan 24, 2017 21:47:07 GMT -6
Drei's attention was drawn the moment he heard the shout. Hooded head tilting quietly with the ashen haired shaman's gaze fixated upon the slain man. Eyes briefly widening before he stared with curiosity towards the arrow. His poise shifting as he instinctively let a small pulse of Elder Magic instantly well up around his body. Prepared to engage immediately, his palms ignited as two nether orbs burned into reality with his robes instantly billowing at the fell winds that churned. His body accepting the minute strain accumulating as he turned to face the group that had some how moved behind him. Blood still trailed down Drei's jaw-line from the spray of viscera when he'd imploded the man's head at close proximity. A steady trickle with droplets cascading every few moments. His golden hued gaze drifting between the new arrivals and calculating his odds.
If there wasn't a marksman, he'd have felt perfectly content risking it. The danger of a bow. It was fast. It was strong. It was precise. If the man hadn't knocked another arrow already he might've pressed his odds even then.
Hands up, or the other one gets shot.
He wanted to. So badly. He could feel it. That eldritch influence within his mind as the nether engulfed his palms. The dark burning energy igniting further briefly. For a moment, Drei's entire body began to exude that shadowy essence to a degree. Eyes deadpan while the grieving sibling broke at their fallen brother's imminent demise. There was a hatred that Drei could not fully contain. A deep loathing for these individuals. He was not effected by the loss of a comrade on this mission. He barely knew any of the trio. However, the arrogance to which these raiders and brigands peacocked around with was overwhelming. To take life so wantonly without any sense of repercussion. It almost pushed him to the brink. Had he not noted it a moment later, he very well may have slipped.
That hatred was a hold. For the great endless vast mind of the void to grip and expertly craft into a hand hold for further manipulation. It caused his mind a searing pain as he quietly let the conduit of elder magic trickle away, until no magic exuded from him and his palms emptied of their powerful spell. At Circe's behest, his hands began to climb slowly. His expression entirely vacant of any emotion. Yet he could only think of it in his mind. The horrible ways in which he could end them. His gaze drifted to the woman and he spoke no words...yet in his mind...
He could practically feel the pressure of a ruin spear puncturing her legs. Muscles, sinew, bone, all crumbling before the crushing force as it ripped through human limb. Just like he felt the reverberating resistance of the raiders skull prior. He could almost smell the heavy metallic scent of freshly spilled blood. Drei's gaze betrayed none of his intent...but how he looked forward to it.
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Circe Alexandra
Mage
"But I just wanna play it right, We're gonna get there tonight"
Posts: 64
Affinity: Anima
Profile: Circe
OoC Alias: Ars Sanctum/Tsunderis
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Post by Circe Alexandra on Jan 25, 2017 1:10:16 GMT -6
All of this was just too much to bear.
Circe had made the jump from elation, to shock, to grief, and now to fear. Her mind was on the fritz, thoughts tearing themselves to shreds regardless of how hard she forced herself to think. In fact the harder she tried to think, to come up with a strategy of some sort to get them out of this debacle, the more lost within the whirling tempest that was her mind she became.
“You're the leader of this...whatever you call it, right?” The bandit leader strode past Drei, wise enough to take a wide arc. She had a smug grin on her face as she sauntered right up to Circe, who kept her hands up in the air. “Gotta say, you did me real big favor today. These assholes had been pushing into my territory for a while now. Was actually going to remind them who ran this sect of the desert...but you seem to have saved me the trouble.”
...Wait. Circe...this had been her plan, hadn't it? To lure the target raiders out of their territory, off their usual hunting grounds. That these bandits had found them now, surrounded them and forced them to adhere to their mercy...it was her doing. Even if this hadn't been the result that Circe had wanted, she was the one to engineer that which took them to this very path.
With horrified eyes she turned her gaze over to Nazim, just in time to watch his hand slip from Ashim's grasp. Ashim let out a sorrowful wail, collapsing onto the railing of the wagon as grief overtook him. Nazim lay motionless on the ground, his wide eyes fixed on the sky above him.
That Nazim was dead...that was Circe's fault. All of this was her fault. Oh Elimine...oh Elimine above, what had she done?
“You know, you're really pretty. Young too, huh? And you've even got nice clothes...” The bandit leader hadn't noticed that Circe's gaze was fixed on Nazim's body, and instead had begun to circle the young mage, blatantly inspecting her. “Could probably hold you for ransom, see if your mommy or daddy will fork over a nice sum of gold to have you back. Or...I could sell you away. I'm sure there are some raider camps who would pay plenty of gold to have you.”
The implications behind the bandit's cruel, taunting words hardly registered to Circe's mind. In fact she didn't so much as utter a single word in response. It was that silence that drew the bandit leader's curiosity, and she turned her face to the young mage's. Tears had begun to flow from Circe's eyes, her body shaking as she stared at Nazim's lifeless body.
“Aww...don't tell me the little girl's gonna start crying now.” The bandit woman gave a snort before she turned her head back towards her men, and let out a barking laugh. “Look at her! Girl kills five armed men, but cries when one of hers takes an arrow to the gullet!”
The other bandits, who had began to scatter about, began to laugh with their boss. It was a mocking, cruel sort of cackling, but it was enough to tear Circe from her stupor. From her endless cycle of guilt and grief. She began to blink her tears away, slowly noting the positions of the men. The archer kept his distance, but was off to the right of Drei. One of the swordsman was behind him, and the other one had moved closer to the wagon, likely to try to inspect the cargo.
“Welcome to Nabata, rich bitch.” The bandit leader jeered, shooting a grin at Circe. “When you walk out into these sands, unprepared for people like us, you're going to get yourself, and everyone you know, killed.”
That her mind was back at full force was fact she made damn sure to keep hidden, letting the tears build and swell in her eyes again. Her heart pounded now, not with fear...but with rage. Rage towards the woman, who held not a shred of guilt over the death of Nazim. Rage towards herself for being so...so damned careless! And yet she had stood there, in front of the enemy, silently begging for forgiveness from Nazim.
She ought to have known better. Circe knew there were risks with this plan of hers. She knew there was a high chance of casualties...and she knew damn well why she had gone through with it all anyway.
But this bandit...did she really think Circe was just going to let her get away with it? Did she really believe that Circe was going to be fine, allowing Nazim and possibly Ashim, or even Drei, to die as well? When the bandits had arrived Circe had considered the mission a failure. She saw now that she was wrong...there had been a casualty, but the mission was NOT a failure.
They'd merely received a new objective.
Circe's hands were still up in the air. In plain view, for all of the bandits to see. If she began to channel any fire or lightning to her hands it'd be clear as day. The call was a smart one for a leader to make. Circe COULD conjure magic away from her body, but the range was limited, as was the power. Trinity only taught a mage so much. Advanced tomes held the secrets to longer ranged casting, and even then long-range casting went against the style that her mentor had passed down to her. She'd only used it when advantageous...
However, Trinity did NOT only teach Fire and Thunder. There was a third element, one that was not so easy to detect when conjured.
Wind had never come easily to Circe. The element and her simply did not work well. To control wind required one to...flow freely, to allow oneself to dance WITH the wind. Wind did not respond well to force, and Circe heavily preferred a forceful approach when it came to the casting of magic. But it was not as though she couldn't cast a single wind-based spell...and really, she only needed one. Wind was only the catalyst of the battle plan that laid out before Circe.
“So what'll it be, rich bitch?” The leader didn't even take notice. How could she? There was no tell whatsoever as spirts of wind gathered around Circe, to drink up and consume the magic she pumped into them. As this silent communion continued, wind and magic of the air began to gather around Circe's right hand, swirling like a small tempest.
Besides, she was just a crying little girl, right?
...Good. This was a battlefield, after all. All was fair. If innocent men like Nazim would be killed without warning, then clearly every weapon Circe could utilize would be pivotal to her survival. To her victory.
Even tears.
“Would you rather drain the pockets of your family dry? Or spend the rest of your nights getting f-”
Without warning Circe whipped her arm around and then up, blasting forth a gust of wind towards the archer. Immediately he was alerted, arrow already primed to take a shot, but it was not wind alone that rushed his way. As the gust traveled it picked up more and more loose sand from the desert, eventually building up a small wave, large enough to engulf the archer completely.
“DREI!” Circe's voice rang out quickly. Rather than the calm tone of an objective strategist, that she had tried to project throughout the entirety of the mission – no, the first half of the mission, Circe's tone had was stronger. Harsher, and more commanding. “STRIKE THE ONE BEHIND YOU FIRST. KILL THEM ALL!”
That was all Circe was able to get out before the bandit drove her fist into the mage's face. Immediately she tasted blood, stars exploding into her vision as she fell backwards onto the sand.
“You BITCH! Boys, kill them all!”
Circe didn't care. The major threat, the archer, was subdued. As far as she was concerned the advantage was theirs.
If this was war...then let it begin.
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