Post by Amalia Ashenberry on May 17, 2019 9:53:39 GMT
”Strong creature, indeed.”
The words came out a mixture of awe and hesitation; not fear, never fear. An Ofrarian knows not the meaning of the word, and to insinuate otherwise was to be put to the sword. But hesitation … a warrior does not rush into a fight they cannot win. They watch, they plan, retreat if must, as loathe an option that may be. But they’d live to see another day, and as of this moment, another sunrise was not on the horizon. Her mana was drained from the bloodlust, and though it’s power still thrummed through her body, it would not for long; and she would be all but powerless against the waves of darkness pressing down upon them.
The thought of it brought a smile to her face, teeth bared and lips flecked with blood like the monsters she was preparing to face.
And the creature burst out of the forest, mishappen, cruel, and Amalia could not help but feel a flicker of fear deep in her soul, thousands of years of memories screaming, this is wrong! It was twisted, dark, something beyond mortal imagining. Not something she should be subjected to. And yet … she held her ground. The thing was brought down by the “gun” held by the little short creature, flesh and blood scattering across the battlefield like confetti. She still held her ground, for what else could she do? There was nothing she could do, they were surrounding them. Basic tactics, but tactics nonetheless, thus they were intelligent.
”Weaknesses, creature. Metals, sounds. There must be something to win this battle!”
The words came out a mixture of awe and hesitation; not fear, never fear. An Ofrarian knows not the meaning of the word, and to insinuate otherwise was to be put to the sword. But hesitation … a warrior does not rush into a fight they cannot win. They watch, they plan, retreat if must, as loathe an option that may be. But they’d live to see another day, and as of this moment, another sunrise was not on the horizon. Her mana was drained from the bloodlust, and though it’s power still thrummed through her body, it would not for long; and she would be all but powerless against the waves of darkness pressing down upon them.
The thought of it brought a smile to her face, teeth bared and lips flecked with blood like the monsters she was preparing to face.
And the creature burst out of the forest, mishappen, cruel, and Amalia could not help but feel a flicker of fear deep in her soul, thousands of years of memories screaming, this is wrong! It was twisted, dark, something beyond mortal imagining. Not something she should be subjected to. And yet … she held her ground. The thing was brought down by the “gun” held by the little short creature, flesh and blood scattering across the battlefield like confetti. She still held her ground, for what else could she do? There was nothing she could do, they were surrounding them. Basic tactics, but tactics nonetheless, thus they were intelligent.
”Weaknesses, creature. Metals, sounds. There must be something to win this battle!”