@Corn Orc Vandal @BlueXBlood @Xen6n @Aegis
PREVIOUSLY:
The heavy scent of moist salt permeated the arena in Kiledo, the hot desert sun assaulting the blood-soaked sand. Bal'kafaz could barely hear the thundering roars of the crowd that surrounded her; the dull thrum of her heartbeat...
FOREVER A WIP
Role: Criminal
Race: Half elf/half orc
Name: Bal'kafaz (translates loosely to "cage of fire")
Age: About 23-28
Pronouns: She/her
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Who even could know? (Lezbehonest)
Alignment: Probably good.
Personality/Backstory:
Born to an orcish slave woman in...
As time wore on, Hawthorn used the weave with Vells as something to focus on while her hands worked at freeing her foot. Careful not to put pressure on her leg, she untied the leather lacings down the side of her boot. Lifting her pant leg was agony; the leg had begun to swell, and every...
As the young alchemist tapped into the weave, Hawthorn closed her eyes in mild relief; in Serena's echo she felt the comfort of a grand library full of dusty parchment. Remnants of the file she had re-read on the ship came to her in soft, fervent whispers. It was a welcome change from the two...
The Dean of Weather took advantage of her open weave with the necromancers, using the waves to pull Vells higher up the beach. She flinched as Serena came skidding to a halt next to her, a fierce lick of pain shooting up her leg at the movement. Her focus on the weave ended abruptly, leaving...
The berating came sooner than anticipated. Almalexia cringed at the use of her full name; the only people who used it were her parents. A surge of anger and the need to protect herself washed over her unexpectedly, and she was about to snap back at Vells when Thys appeared by her side, offering...
Hawthorn collapsed onto the black sand with relief. Her lungs barely had time to settle before a giant bird of prey enclosed them in its wings- Oh, just Avanok.
Weave. She could weave.
The Dean of Weather rolled herself to a sit, her bum leg out in front of her. As she opened herself up to the...
With all available focus put towards the ship, Hawthorn only noticed Hew when he started smashing up the sheet of ice she was trapped on. With each pound of his mace the ice wobbled over the water, and the weather mage bit down hard on her lip to refrain from crying out in agony. Every vibration...
"FORGET THE CHILDREN!"
The ship was moving; the crew that was still aboard had adjusted the remaining sails to work with the magic wind. But at this distance, Hawthorn knew it wasn't going to be enough. The other mages were casting their own spells, save for Vells and the kitsune, it seemed...
"Touch me again and you'll find yourself frostbitten," Hawthorn snapped, looking pointedly below Thys' navel.
The weather mage closed her eyes as the soft warmth of feathers tickled her senses. Her sense of calm, however, quickly turned into a rather unpleasant churning of her insides. Skies...
The weather mage heard the ape's pitiful pleas and rejoined the group by Vells. The creature in the trees was still chucking small projectiles at their group; one such object pelted the blood mage's shoulder, bouncing and hitting Hawthorn in the arm. Hawthorn flicked her wrist in annoyance...
Hawthorn went red in the face at being scolded by the veteran, rage swelling in her chest. She was about to bite back when Vells promptly took a blade to her palm and cast a spell. The weather mage threw up her own hands and stormed off towards her tent, leaving the rest to deal with the now...