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 Post subject: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Wed Jun 01, 2011 3:02 pm 
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It was night, full moon above and fire below. We all sat in a ring; three other spirits, my companion, and myself. My companion sat on one of the fallen logs that made up the campsite, and our spirit friends did as well out of habit. I, however, stood just to the right of my companion, not falling prey to the ways of a past life. There was no point to sit, there was no point to stand, there was no point to be.

Lively conversation between the spirits broke the white noise of crackling fire, yet my companion's face still stood as a stone as if uninterested in their speech. The longer I stare at the emotionless face the more I must question where had such a sweet and soothing feeling emanated from when we had first met. Sitting there, probably not even listening to the conversation, he gazed deeply into the fire before us. Lost in the dance of flames, I too found myself hypnotized by its beauty.

“Tell me, Raizure, how did you fall?” one spirit asked of another. With a cough to clear his ghostly through, the dwarf spirit spoke.

“I was a scout for the third division mountain patrol. My duty was to watch the mountain pass for invaders. It had been over a year since any hostile was caught moving along the path, and I had hit the ale rather hard that day. I had dropped my guard and payed for it. I was ambushed by a group of goblin. There must have been five of the bastards at least. They came out from behind trees and rocks, wielding clubs and stones. When the first came at me he managed to tackle me. While rolling around I threw him off of me and over the ledge we brawled on. Then came two more, reaching for my axe I dug it deep into the skull of the second, then flung the beast into the other. Then a fourth came charging at me. He rammed right into me with no regard for his own life, and over the ledge we both tumbled. In our decent I managed to twirl him around and land upon him, but, we bounced from the cliff side and were separated. Then I fell down two more ledges before I stopped. I was conscious just long enough for the rats to climb down to me and bring their clubs down upon my face.”

“Ah, well that tale was rather depressing. Done in by the sauce and an ambush. But its a death worthy of your race dwarf. You deserved a warriors end.” Said Robert, the human spirit of a thief and smart ass.

“Warriors end?!” Raizure said outraged and rising to his feet. “A warrior would have bested them! A warrior wouldn't have failed his people by letting goblin filth sneak a step closer to our homes! I did not die a warrior, I died a failure!” His intense gaze switched suddenly to my companion the spiritualist. “Let ye hear this now spirit walker! I'll not take an ounce of rest until I know the beasts that killed me have met a similar fate, and my position of guardsman is replaced.”

With a nod my companion complied. “Well I will need rest. We will search for your body first thing in the morning, then by that we shall hopefully pick up their trail. I trust that is a specialty of yours is it not?”

“Aye, that it is. Then tomorrow we shall find the bastards and I shall aid you in throwing each one of their hides off the mountain and strait to hell!” Another nod from my companion showed his approval for the proposed plan. Having already eaten, soon he would slumber and leave us to guard the campsite; but not yet.

He had spoken to me about his job often enough for me to understand his actions. Those who recently died want to talk, they want to make a connection to feel as if they were still alive. He didn't need to talk, only listen and comfort the dead when needed. This dwarf needed to talk more, or he would go stir crazy in this his first night of death.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Thu Jun 02, 2011 3:45 am 
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Night had fallen.

The thrown knife hit the bark where she wanted it to and stuck, something that was still a new experience to the elf. Now the act came almost naturally, as if she had been able to do this for decades. Gone was the awkward girl who couldn't hit a still target a directly below her and only a story away with a crossbow. The shining light of the full moon illuminated the simple piece of steel embedded into the wood, the tip directly placed in the centre of a carved x. She could count the distance in metres she was from her target on a single hand, but she was not attempting perfect accuracy at long distances. She was content with the feeling of comfort and ease, and about how she didn't need to take ten seconds to calculate projection and angles just to end up missing anyway. Something she found out the hard way was that if a task was difficult and uncomfortable to execute outside of combat with no pressure, hoping you could pull it off in the heat of combat was reckless and foolish.

Taking her various belongings, she made her way toward a town she had been observing for a few days. There seemed to be a decent pace at night there, not so dead that anyone approaching or moving about would be reason to take notice, but not so busy as to be safe. There were plenty of places that wise people would avoid at night, and just as many who thought nothing of it. A perfect sort of target to sneak into and take what was needed before slipping into the room you rented out last week. The one that had a ledge outside the window that could be used to make people think you were sleeping while you were out. Playing the terrified girl would be a great way to get out of town before a witness came forward.

Ellia tied her scarf up around her neck, noting how much her wound had healed. There was no longer a nasty hole that made her queasy when she thought about it. Now, the wound was much less Kris sized and much closer to dart sized. Still not healed enough to walk around town with, but the fact that it was healing properly was welcomed. She got too many stares for wearing a scarf in warmer weather, which wasn't what she wanted. Once while she was walking about town, a child even yanked on it. The cloth resisted, but it was uncomfortably close to falling, and a screaming child pointing at her was not something that she wanted.

The fruition of her planning and observations would be put on hold while she walked toward her goal. A small cloud of ash was spotted drifting above the thin canopy, normally hard to see particles radiant under the bright moon, likely caused by a log shifting. A town wasn't going to get up and move, nor was it likely to suddenly improve its night watch unprovoked. A few travellers wandering a forest weren't subject to the same limitations as a group of permanent buildings were. They would likely not stick around for more than a night. The priority was obvious.

She moved to the right before approaching, making sure to keep downwind. A small company may be accompanied by a dog, and it would be a shame in her flower scented perfume ruined her chance at an ambush. It wasn't a needed precaution, as the wind was only faintly noticeable, but she was expecting a sudden change of wind speed would conveniently ruin her night. She didn't need to rush anyway, the night was still young. Even if the camp fire was abandoned, she would still be able to slink back into town and lower their population without time induced stress.

As she approached she heard speech, though she could not catch the words or the tone. She was hoping the fire belonged to a single person, but most single people did not have conversations. The short dialogue also hinted at that one of them took notice of her presence, throwing out a quick warning and maybe some instructions. She would need to approach with caution and expect that her ambush faced the very real possibility of being countered. She slowed even more, walking among trees to stay out of sight while slowly approaching, bow in hand, waiting for movement. She dragged her feet so she would not snap a twig and give away her position, slowing down to a crawl when her sandals met more resistance than grass offered. She thanked her heritage for giving her patience as she inched carefully through the forest, senses on edge.

She finally got to a good spot among the trees, just out of sight. The glow of the fire was obscured, the faint light drowned out by the sky, but the sound carried. Another handful of trees were passed that brought her into line of sight with the fire and its company.

He was alone. The speech she heard was either him speaking to himself, or he was picked as the bait for the trap. She assumed the second, searching the surrounding area painfully slowly, trying to see where the friends were. The face of the one by the fire was focused on the flame, which she assumed to be the bait trying to keep calm and control his nerves. Bait is a crummy position to get stuck in.

Ellia thought of climbing a tree herself, but she would almost assuredly make too much noise and distract herself with the task while the elf by the fire fled or hid. The search for danger was yielding nothing; none of the leaves looked disturbed, no whining branches of trees being subjected to too much weight. No movement of a hand carelessly pressing back leaves that obstructed view. Standing there with half her face able to be seen, looking for something that could not be seen, was starting to feel like a good way to get noticed by the one person she knew was around. Patient as she was, there was no reason to stand around waiting all night, hoping whoever was guarding their friend would nod off when the sense of urgency passed. If she were lucky and he was alone, she could still make it to town in time tonight.

She drew an arrow and took aim at the man's forehead. A sharp twang followed, and Ellia moved away from the tree cover. She would need to press her surprise if her foe did not take a lethal wound. The mahogany finished wood of her bow dipped down to be fitted with another arrow while she advanced slowly, her peripherals noting how the flowers on her clothes glowed in the light of the moon.

[Intent to Kill]

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Thu Jun 02, 2011 10:29 pm 
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I listened on as the dwarf spirit continued to chatter away about the fight, talking with Robert, who had a wise crack ready for each exaggeration the dwarf threw at him. They were quite the odd couple. One a proud dwarf in service of his king and kin, the other a shady human in service of his own needs and pleasures. I felt bad for my companion, as these two would likely yammer on into the night, even after he would seek his slumber. The dwarf had just made some remark of once felling fifty goblin in a single night when my companion's head jerked up. In the next instance he was moving to the right. I had not heard whatever startled my companion, but in just a moment after his frantic movements, an arrow wizzed by exactly where his brow stood mere moments ago. How he heard the twang of the bow string over our guests was beyond me, but having listened for so many years he must have gained the ability to drown out ghost chatter to some extent; and by the grace of his race, had the reflexes to move out of the arrow's path. [Quickened Mind]

We all saw the arrow as it darted just over our fire. Raizure fell backwards over the long, again in a desperate attempt to reject the ghostly form he wore. He shouted; “Their back! And they took me crossbow!” He was wrong. Looking in the direction the arrow flew I noticed her as I'm sure my companion did. A woman wearing a white attire, wielding a bow and notching another arrow. A strange assailant in the night, attacking my companion without warrant or warning. She was easy to spot as she wore a scarf around her neck that gave off a slight glow in the dark of the woods.

Jin and Rob were already taking action; grasping sword tight in hand and manifesting physical form. Rob was floating just above the ground and behind the sword of the spiritualist, which was hanging low at his side. The blade waited for the right moment, the moment where it would best serve to hide Robert's movements forward. Sure as I guessed it, the spirits physical body was converted into the energy my companion referred to as 'Nether'. It looked like a blue and purple smoke wrapped around the blade as it moved up in an arch. The energy flew forward, matching that same vertical arc, and carrying the spirit with it in ethereal form. The wave rolled over and toward the glowing figure in the trees. It was slower than the arrow and would most likely be dodged easily, but such a strait forward attack was rarely my companions MO.

[Stealth Spirit 1, Nether Wave used]

----------
Stealth Spirit 1 1/3
Nether Wave

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 4:48 am 
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Her foe snapped to attention and moved from harms way without hesitation, his reaction time suggesting he was aware of her presence. She had noted he was an elf like she was, and would undoubtedly have the ability to deal with a sudden yet distinct sound of a loosened arrow, but she had expected he was picked as bait because he was the least adept for battle. That, or his apparent trance would take too much time to escape, and the arrow would find its mark before his mind had the chance to register the cause of the twang. She almost wished she had thrown a knife instead, but such ideas were best left to after-battle analysis.

But he did not cower and minimize like weak prey, no, his reaction was calm and smooth. Perhaps he was alone and she caught him gazing into the fire ahead and things were only as they appeared to be .Perhaps there wasn't a company of arrows about to descend upon her. She paused for a moment, not comfortable with just going on hope, ears screening the surroundings for a false echo of her bow, eyes trained on the man who didn't seem alarmed. She briefly thought about slinking back into cover before her march brought her away from safety, but the idea of playing defensive was quickly thrown out. No archers had yet fired at her, and if the man was alone, she would be losing any initiative she had by retreating to observe. As far as she was concerned, the ball being in her court was something to be protected jealously.

The robed man had drawn a sword in response, a decent sized blade that looked a bit heavy, though that was personal opinion only. She expected the man to charge forth to close the distance between his weapon and herself, so she responded by pulling the string back and holding, the end still dipped. The moment he lurched forward she would point and release, but the man chose to not react as expected. She failed to see the dark smoke surround his blade, for when he darted to his right to avoid a quick death his right side had moved into his own shadow, the light of the fire obscuring his motives. Though the seemingly random swipe of a melee weapon shouted danger, Ellia saw no real reason to feel under attack. It looked like he picked up some dust from the ground and swiped it through the air, the smoke of the fire hiding the smoke of his spirit. Perhaps it was just a weird way to throw people off and dodge nothing to waste energy.

Random movement wasn't going to be something that made her ease up, and in seeing that the elf was not running into reach, she dropped to one knee and fired another arrow, this one aimed an inch above his right knee. Fast reaction time and unhindered movement would be a pain to deal with, so she opted to slow down his movements. In a yearning for the shot to hit, she twisted the material before it left her fingertips, allowing the entirety of the missile to become translucent. If he was to favour moving to his right, the arrow still had a chance at pegging his left leg while he made another dodge, which would still accomplish what she wanted with the shot.

The swipe's purpose became clear when the wave passed beside the fire, the darker hues and forward movement easier to see with the backdrop of oranges. Ellia didn't have time to avoid it completely without throwing herself into a roll to the left, which she wanted to avoid doing. The longer she left herself immobile, the better chance her foe would get in close with his blade. She stood up quickly while twisting to her right, the blunt force of the spirit ramming into her shoulder and upper arm, forcing her hand from reaching her quiver for another arrow. Thankfully the blow didn't hurt too much [Magical Lifeblood], but it was still irritating to get hit so soon into the battle that was could have been over already were her target a different race.




Blind(3/4)

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Thu Jun 09, 2011 4:30 am 
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The wave of nether flew through the air and slammed into the opponents shoulder that had rushed forward to protect the rest of her body. She thought herself protected, saved from the attack she had noticed just in time. Little would she know the true threat of the attack went unnoticed. Within seconds, my companion and I would be pulled through the netherworld to Robert's location. And so it came to be.

[Spirit Portal 1/3 Universal uses]

There was a vacuum sound, and then the spiritualist was transported behind the assailant. I too was pulled across the battlefield, bound to a close range of the book in Jin's robe pocket. It didn't even take a second for my companion to take in his surroundings and act. Dashing the two steps required, he moved on his opponent with his left arm stretched out toward the figure.

Reaching out for her shoulder, he would grasp hold of her and spin her around. Then with that same arm, pin her against the nearby tree. My companion was against killing; possibly as a reflection of his truly kind heart, or a desire of not wanting to exert the energy to ferry another soul to a resting place. There was no doubt, he would not kill the woman unless forced too. He was always kinder to woman, as a gentleman should.

As he did so, her face came into full view. She was elven like he was. This would complicate things for my companion. He cared deeply for his people, and with his gifts as a spiritualist, he was pulled away from those people at an early age. I felt a lash of sorrow for my companion, as fighting a male high elf would rip away at his heart, let alone a female elf. Still, what must be done must be done.

“Why do you attack me? What wrong have I committed against you that would have you taking arms against me in such a manner?”


His voice was firm and strong, yet even the untrained observer could sense his dropped guard. His sword, which would likely be held up close to any other opponent's throat, was left limp at his side. His arm, which should be pinned against the assassin with full force, was left somewhat slack to offer her less resistance. There was a longing in my companions heart, he wanted to end this confrontation with words and not action; at least not violent action. I had never seen my companion with woman before, and with his views on other races, finding a mate would be a rare opportunity.

-----
Stealth Spirit A 2/3
Spirit Portal used, spirit consumed.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Fri Jun 10, 2011 5:50 am 
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Unconcerned with the rush of smoke that had somehow collided with her hand and shoulder that forced her to twist back in recoil, Ellia focused back to the man whom she attacked. With the distraction, the time, and the hard to see nature of her attack, it was near impossible to tell if the attack missed, or if it did not, how well it hit. There was no audible grunt or acknowledgement of a hit. If there had been audible pain it was drowned out by a loud sucking noise that was the signal for the ranger to stop caring if her arrow grazed his leg or not.

He vanished. Ellia's first thought was to get her back to a tree, but the hand clamping down on her shoulder made it clear it wasn't going to happen. Or, as it turned out, just not by her doing. Jin turned her around and pinned her against the very tree she was trying to get to, though with much more force than needed. That wasn't a shock; most would try to avoid the pin, and the attacker needed to compensate for that under that assumption. The surprise came from the lack of force after the initial impact, though it was still hard to tell if that was just the pain from the jolt covering the pain of being pressed against the tree. She let her bow fall to the ground; it was not as though it was going to do anything helpful in such tight quarters.

Her now emptied hands fell to her sides, her wrists noting the presence of her iron throwing knives. To her, it felt like a shoot-out of sorts, if the man raised his sword she would draw a knife in each hand and flick her wrists to make up the short distance that the pin imposed, possibly hitting an organ, but in the very least breaking the pin and interrupting the attack. Though that could only work if she was faster than his attack. She could move first, but the prize of winning didn't compare to the penalty for losing. She chose to see if the situation could pass and turn into something more favourable.

Instead of offering his bid in the game of who can kill whom faster, Jin only spoke. It was at that point the throbbing from the bark impact subsided enough for Ellia to know he was not crushing her against the tree like many would, the hold only enough to control. The lack of excess comforted the ranger, though she would still be alert enough to react should the kindness be temporary. She kept her eyes locked on his, hoping he would offer something that could be manipulated yet finding nothing.

She paused for a moment after he asked his question, just staring at him without visibly acknowledging that he spoke. She considered telling him the truth, and a few lies, her favourite being a scenario where she thought he was someone else, someone that was hunting her. She could claim that the fire was thought to be an exploitable opportunity for her to kill her foe and protect herself. After running through a few possible conversations, she decided that there was little chance she could weave a lie that was both believable and ended with something beneficial, and telling the truth wouldn't earn any sympathy. Indeed, the innocent question posed was a trap with no right answer. Avoiding it was a decent idea.

"It's dangerous to be alone in the forest at night."

It was spoken in a disconnected flat tone, like she wasn't even a part of the conversation at all, just an outsider making an observation. Her gaze looked distant too, though the lack of presence ended quickly with a scowl.

"You didn't need to pin me to say hello. I am oddly comfortable right now, and you didn't tie a threat to your question or your stance. You're confusing me. What did you want from this?"

She softened even more, the complete relaxation that would nearly signal that the pin was necessary, that she wasn't going to move or attack whether his arm was making it so or not.

"Be aware that I am letting you hold me."

Unless the man had angered someone, she could not imagine why he would be more interested in why someone was trying to kill him than stopping them. Unless there were more assailants the why didn't seem to matter, the facts could be dealt with at face value and no digging was needed. Perhaps, she thought, he is as she was, reluctant to kill even if the death was deserved, a mindset she now associated with weakness.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Mon Jun 13, 2011 9:47 pm 
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A brief moment of silence filled the air after my companion's question. The woman seemed lost in thought, but only for a second. A second to a high elf was ten for a human though, and she was clearly scrolling through her options. She eventually settled on not answering the question at all.

“It's dangerous to be alone in the forest at night”; indeed it was with a woman flinging arrows at men with no provocation, but, this was not an answer to my companion's question. This was a simple stall tactic to show she did not want to give her real reason, but gave my companion the credit of not trying to lie to his face. To this my companion had but one thing to say; “Clearly.” His face tightened up, showing that he was anything but amused by the woman. She seemed off though, as if caught in another world or possibly possessed. She soon returned though, bearing a scowl.

"You didn't need to pin me to say hello. I am oddly comfortable right now, and you didn't tie a threat to your question or your stance. You're confusing me. What did you want from this?" She went on to continue. This is when Robert came two again in his ghostly form, invisible and unheard by the woman. “She does have a point, arrows are a much better way of saying hello.” He was ignored, as he often was by the spiritualist. The clever remarks he threw into every conversation did grow quite annoying at times, but he did have his moments where he was actually funny.

“Not all of us chose to kill others, even when they show themselves as enemies.” He said still holding the woman to the tree. “You don't have the look of a bandit, you share my race so I assume you are not a simple savage, and as far as I know I have not done anything to cause you to seek out so actively my death. If I had to guess further I would say you were not a professional assassin, as a lady such as yourself would normally use seduction and then an close, unsuspecting kill. So what reason have you?”

As my companion went on explaining his thoughts, I couldn't help but find it unnecessary. He tried to explain himself and his actions to somebody who had no desire to hear them. She was a cold blooded killer, plain and simple. A mentally ill elf who attacked strangers in the night for the pure thrill of it. He would do best to run her through now and pin the maniac to the tree before she could kill again.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Fri Jun 17, 2011 4:16 pm 
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She listened intently to the responses offered by the man, and why not? There was little else to do when said man was preventing free movement and was using the situation to chat. His grip was lenient, but that would be corrected if she thought to take advantage of the loose grip. Then she would still be where she was now, just less comfortable. Less comfortable and less able to influence the man with words.

He posed a suggestion of a 'better' way to go about killing him, though this was likely more of a personal preference than a legit tip, especially from a high elf. In her experience, their long life span made them more suspicious than man, more willing to see the trap that lay ahead. A lone woman that just happened to be wandering through the woods at night that just so happened to want company from a stranger would be seen an assassin first and a good time second. Still, it was an idea, and being pinned to a tree didn't offer many better suggestions. Just trying now would be too obvious, taking a suggestion offered would be just grasping at strings. She would need to recover from the failed attempt at his life, and they only way to do that was to make it seem that was never the goal.

"A lady such as myself would have waited for you to sleep to kill you. You can assume I have the patience to do so should I chose too, being a high elf, and were I in a hurry, I would have thrown a knife instead. They are much quieter and less distinct sounding. Yet I went with the bow, something you should be familiar with enough to react on instinct alone."

Pointing out what one should have done instead was only a sign of incompetence if you couldn't make them sound intentional.

"I knew my target was a high elf when I took the job. Normally race doesn't mean anything to me, but when I saw you I melted a little. There isn't much time for personal relationships in my line of work, and I was struck with a wave of loneliness as I watched you from the shadow. Everything I have done was intentional; the first shot was to cause stress and adrenaline. You may think it was an attempt at your life; that was the very point. But my follow-up, the one that could actually hit? I went for your thigh instead of an organ or artery. I figured I could claim mistaken identity and help patch you up and get to know you. Clearly, I have only given you what you were able to deal with.

I couldn't just approach. I was afraid you would think me a threat and leave. I doubt you would think a lady in the woods coming to spend some intimate time with you would be little more than an assassin. You clearly know of such people, and as you should, being out here alone. I must say... that teleport thing and the forceful control afterwards threw me off my game. I expected to lead this particular dance.
"

She smirked a suggestive smile, though the origins lay mostly in her pride in whipping that story up after only stumbling for a moment. A short pause was had to let the man think on her words should he choose too.

"If you remove my weapons it shouldn't be a problem, right? And if you deem it necessary to rid our world of an assassin afterwards, so be it. I just want it to end on a high note, a final request that I doubt will bother you too much."

There was no way he would trust her with her set of knives at the ready, though no person was ever truly unarmed. Should he buy her stretched story, she planned on schooling him in the fun that can come about when someone lets the dead have access to their neck.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Sat Jun 18, 2011 6:05 pm 
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The woman's story was questionable at best. As my companion and I took in the story for all it was worth, something odd came to mind. She knew her target was a high elf when taking the job. Why was my companion a target, and who would be targeting. These were questions that at first thought would have no answers. Anari had little to no connection to the living in this world, and thus does not make enemies too often. Her story seemed off, but there was something more surprising in what she said.

When she spoke of a second shot, I was caught off guard; though my companion seemed to know of what she spoke. Only now did I look my companion over to notice the wound on his left leg. No arrow was sticking out of his leg but there was a clear sign one had grazed by his leg. Even in the dark I could see the dripping rubies that were his blood. So caught up with the damage of my friend's body I had lost track of her speech. Before I knew it my companion spoke.

“Well, loneliness is something I can relate to.” A beautiful elven woman, there was no way he could resist. I could only lay back and hope it would not dull his mind. “No,” He said while lowering his arm and releasing her. “I will not kill you, you need not fear that. I will take you up on your offer for conversation at least. I took have little time for personal relationships in my line of work.” He reached out with the hand that held her just moments ago. “But I will take your weapons, I believe you mentioned some knives before.”

I was happy to see my companion wasn't being completely reckless in his actions. If he wanted to risk his life to feel alive, well I would encourage it. In order to feel alive one must take the right risks, and this woman seemed prize enough.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Thu Jun 23, 2011 2:35 am 
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He bought the story. Either that, or he was trying to fool Ellia into thinking he had. She considered the idea that he was aware that victory would not be certain in his current position, wondering himself if he would be fast enough or make the cut before the knives at her side left her hands. After she willingly departed from her remaining weapons would be a much better time to strike. His choice of conversation over other things he no doubt had little time for suggested he was still thinking properly enough to plot and seek the upper-hand. She drew her throwing knife to her right, moving slowly as to not seem aggressive, hesitating just a moment as she weighed her options. A brief time was spent wondering if a quick step up and stab would be enough, but she expected his speedy reaction before wouldn't be a one-time deal.

She pulled the bottom of her new black shirt away, tightening the fabrics, before tucking the edge of the knife under it. She cut upwards and outwards, hating each second of the semi-ripping sounds. Her knives weren't very sharp on the sides, as to avoid cutting herself on a bad throw, making the shirt much more resistant to the action. She loved her shirt; tearing it apart was met with great sorrow. Still, she was thinking ahead. Every moment wasted in the clearing was one less moment she would have in town before sunrise, and each wasted moment would bring her closer to waiting till tomorrow. Each day wasted would add to the pressure to meet her quota of lives taken before the month ended, and would add to the chance she would make a mistake. A shirt, no matter how wonderful, didn't seem worth dying for.

"I actually need to get to town before sunrise, the sooner the better. If all you want to do is chat, I can come back tomorrow and look for you if you want. I was thinking something a bit more fun and personal would fend off loneliness until we both had some spare time, but like I said, time is of the essence. Conversation isn't really a good use of my time tonight. What do you say? Will you let me take a closer look at that scratch of yours? Or would you prefer for me to come back tomorrow? You seem awfully trusting and good natured; I wouldn't complain about getting to spend time with you."

She tossed her shirt to the ground, hating the idea that she could just pull it off were she not expecting the opposite elf to take advantage of self imposed blindness and swing to kill. She wore a plain white under-shirt that had no sleeves underneath her now discarded black top. The lack of detail bothered her, but it was the only water resistant white shirt the shop had. Her iron knife was placed back at her side, and Ellia struggled to fake body language that ended as an uncomfortable attempt at looking both passive and eager simultaneously. Whether the encounter ended in a promise to return or it ended with her killing the elf, she wanted the end to come soon.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Thu Jun 23, 2011 9:48 pm 
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With a second of hesitation the woman reached for her first throwing knife. This did not mean she was indeed trying to trick my companion, but could possibly be weary of an attack herself. She moved the blade slowly up; a very good choice on her part, showing both compliance and a non aggressive. She almost seemed honest with her intentions, and a small happiness for my companion formed in my heart.

Instead of handing the weapon over, the woman grasped tight her black shirt, and with a tight tug, cut the shirt up the center. It was not expected or nearly as trusting as turning over the knife, but it did succeed in cocking my companion's head. It was quite alluring and seductive to say the least, and quickly I found myself in a state of greater envy.

She tossed the sundered shirt to the ground beside her, sadly revealing a white undershirt that was only slightly more revealing in the chest. She was writing a love story with her body, while her hands preformed a deceitful act of putting her knife back at its resting position. She was much less willing to part with it then she would have my companion believe. Her intentions were not as pure as she played, and said intentions played were far from pure.

The sword gripped somewhat loosely in his hand began to gently carve a small circle in the air. A signal, for Robert who now was directly behind Anarie. The ghost crouched down and formed a physical body just above the grass. Slowly floating around to the side while staying, to the best of his abilities, unseen.

[Spirit 2/5]

“Forward, but quite effective.”
My companion said while taking a step forward on his right, injured leg. “You win, I'll take you up on your offer, all of your offer.” He took another step, one more and it would be on her foot. They were close now, very close. Their relative height put their eyes and lips nearly parallel to the others. “Just one last thing, Miss. Assassin.”

His head leaned in closer, as too did his body. His hands grasping gently at her shoulders, his cheek just brushing hers. He whispers into her ear the words I only later discover.

“What is my name?”


------
Stealth Spirit B 1/3

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Wed Jun 29, 2011 2:55 am 
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Location: Under many, many rocks
When?

Fatal intimacy was new to Ellia. She had, of course, heard of such things, but she had never really thought about it. She was no assassin, able to just instinctively be aware of a good time to strike. How long would she need to wait before a good opportunity made itself known? How far would she be required to go before she could strike and move on? What should she do if no obvious opportunity arose? Was there even such thing as a 'right time to strike'? Would he know how to avoid such a time? Not only was the planned attack starting to look complicated, even regular intimacy was largely foreign to her. Would he notice the lack of confidence? Would it matter if he did?

She tried not to look nervous, tried quite possibly too hard to mask the sense of unease and the sinking feeling of playing a game she didn't know the rules to. It was not as if she had turned into a hardened killer in the period it took her to survive death either. Killing at a distance wasn't too hard; if you managed to get the first shot off you wouldn't need to get a closer look. But he was close, especially after taking another step closer. She questioned if she was able and still willing to attack him, or if it'd best to just play along and never see him again, returning to targets she didn't need to get close to.

That was the plan she was leaning towards when Jin leaned in to whisper. She planned to observe and learn, so that should such a situation arise again she would be at least somewhat educated. She also planned, at that moment, to seek out a real assassin and get some tips someday soon. Even so, were a good opportunity to arise and be obvious she wouldn't hesitate to capitalize she told herself. If needed, she would focus completely on the number of days she had left to live if she went weak in the knees and couldn't kill.

“What is my name?”

She had no answer, and it was clear that was the point of the question. She froze for a moment, then realised how close he had brought his neck to her while doing so. Ellia moved her left hand to Jin's back and pressed him gently closer while her right remained idle at her side, the elf mentally practising her next move while she spoke.

"Next time we talk I'll be honest with you, I promise."

She applied strength to her left arm while drawing her throwing knife in the other, trying for a stab to his abdomen. After the knife was drawn she shifted attention from her left to her right just long enough to get the motion right, then focusing back to her left. While pressing toward herself she craned her neck to reach his with a bite. She didn't want to depend on a throwing weapon to make a life ending blow in close quarters.

It was easier when she didn't have to see his face. The recent bolt of panic and the lingering threat of only and last chance to make the kill was enough, and perhaps she could apologise and explain before blood loss took it's toll.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 11:35 pm 
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Things seemed rather ill for my companion as the biter bite of death masked itself as the woman’s own fang and claw; the claw of course being her knife. I did not worry for my companion though, for I knew he was not taking risks with this woman. He knew just what he was doing, and what she would do in turn. He was still playing with her, flirting with the first female elf he had seen since my meeting him.

Just before the dagger pierced his flesh, he vanished; leaving a cloud of purple smoke for her to sink her teeth into instead of his flesh. An odd woman this was, not many resorted to biting while fighting. She seemed, inexperienced, to say the least. My companion reappeared, standing on the opposite side of the tree as the woman with his back leaning carelessly against it. He spoke.

[Spirit Portal: 2/3. Spirit B consumed.]

“That sure is a relief. Your lies grown stale and boring; truth would be a nice change.”

Now my companion was starting to take things more to heart. She had her reasons perhaps, but they were random and wild ones. If she would attack him with no reason, she would attack others with just as little cause. He wasn’t one to allow such a thing, he would not let her go without knowing just what she was planning, and how much of a danger she was to the living.

His sword lifted slowly into the air as he adjusted his grip, allowing the blade to hang out the bottom of his hand. It then moved slowly around the tree to cut the woman’s leg, leaving a similar gash as the one that must be on his right. It was good; he was insuring the woman’s capture as best he could. He spent too much energy playing, and only had enough energy to leap into a spirit once more this night.

Just as his attack was about to land, he paused. One last chance? He would give her one last chance to be honest and state her reasoning before cutting her flesh. No matter how strong the man, a woman always holds his leash in these times. “I want to know the truth.” He spoke with his blade still near her leg. “Tell me the truth or I will force it out of you. I will not simply let you leave to possibly hunt down some less prepared prey.”

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Sat Jul 09, 2011 2:05 am 
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Location: Under many, many rocks
Biting into a mouthful of fleeting mists while uncomfortably swinging at them with a dagger not meant for stabbing wasn't fun. Ellia had closed her eyes just before Jin had been whisked away by whatever force he was utilizing, making the slightly painful crash of her jaw into itself quite a surprise. Then, as she had been pressing the man close to her with her left, the no-longer obstructed arm was free to flow towards her, a partially clenched fist finding a new home at her solar plexus, not forceful enough to knock the wind from her, but was fairly close to doing so. Her knife swinging arm was not far behind, deciding to add to the backward momentum her other arm had built up. Her spine hit the tree behind and was met with a cough. The annoyance came from not expecting another teleport after seeing the first one; she was concentrating too much on her speech to think properly about her opponent. She cursed her mental priorities before the sword came around from the other side, seeming like some sort of predator waiting for its prey to make its mistake.

He wanted to know the truth, more than he wanted to injure her to protect himself. Certainly, she thought, things were going rather well because of his disposition. She would explain herself to him, at least in part. It was not as if it would hurt the situation any, and she needed to collect her shirt. There were throwing knives on it, and conversation from opposite sides of a tree may be enough to hide her movement. She had no way of knowing how many times he would be able to relocate himself in the face of danger, so any sort of surprise would be welcome. He seemed like a good sort anyway, the type of individual she wouldn't mind being around once in a while.

"As fun as that sounds, I'll explain myself. Truthfully this time, though you may find the story a little far-fetched."

Thankfully her shirt was not throw away and was simply dropped, it was still in arm's reach once she bent down and stretched a bit. She scooped it up and slowly wormed her arms through the sleeves, trying to keep quiet about the activity while keeping up the conversation.

"My life isn't natural any more. I am being... sustained, and this thing that is keeping me around, or rather, the who that is keeping me around, needs some compensation for his efforts. If you think of life like a currency, I have to pay a bribe to keep my own. A quota of death, if you will."

She paused for a moment for emphasis and began weaving a bit of true fear into her tone, moving away from the collected tone of the sentence before.

"I don't want to die. You can understand fearing death, can't you? This, me, is a terrible system of survival, and I just thought that killing a stranger whom I can't see clearly would be easier to stomach than other ways. When I tried to bite you just now it was mostly panic; I really need to get to town soon to keep breathing. I am really very sorry for involving you in this, and I would like it if we could meet again under better circumstances. Can you forgive me?"

So she twisted the 'victim of circumstance' part. This man seemed to fancy himself a do-gooder, with saying things like " I will not simply let you leave to possibly hunt down some less prepared prey." The plight of a scared and lonely female who is just trying to live, who panics at the proximity of people may win over some sympathy, or so she hoped. Unless Jin was less understanding of the natural fear of death the long lived races normally shared, she suspected she would persuade him into leaving her be, at least for now. Or even offering help, though she wasn't eager to start hoping for best case outcomes.

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 Post subject: Re: Clash of the Highborn. (A Battle of Scotts!)
PostPosted: Thu Jul 14, 2011 12:50 am 
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“Now that is unfortunate. Unfortunate for you, that I of all people am the one you stumbled upon this night. For I am Death and it is my duty to purge the world of abomination such as you.” This was a strange move for the spiritualist. He had always told me that his duty was to the dead and not the living, so this woman being dead should be even more a match for his personality. “I wish you were only a living dead, that would be alright with me. But those you would kill would have their souls stolen, and that part I can not allow.”

He turned from the tree and drew his sword upward to point at the woman's chest. “Submit as my prisoner, knowing you can not steal my soul for your master, and let me do what I can for you, or resist in which case I must destroy you. Whichever option though, I can free your soul from whatever master holds it now.”

Now things made sense, he couldn't let her kill people to have their souls stolen. That was how his responsibilities fell. Perhaps the woman had the intellect to accept what help he could offer her, and there would be no need to destroy the woman. True she was already dead, but how much did that truly differ from the life of an elf who more slowly swam through the steam of time.

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