[Flashback] The Eagle and the Serpent (Wrenmae)

[Razia]

Quick steps mirrored her heartbeat. Razia clumsily descended to the forest floor, blinded by fear. Leaping down from a beaten stone wall, her foot caught on its edge, and she tumbled to the dirt, stifling a cough. She scurried to her feet, flinching at the sound of his thunderous voice. Shooting a glance over her shoulder, she saw nothing, though knew she stood no chance. He would kill her, and the boy, if he hadn’t already. He would kill the girl. She imagined he could damn well kill anything. Nothing instinctive could compel her to stay. She knew her own nature. Ashamed as she was, as cowardly as she would seem, she knew herself. This was not her fight. A few steps into the forest, and she hesitated. Ragged breath sliced through the silence, and she knew she could be heard. Nobody would know that you left, she assured herself. No one is around to witness… You could get away without him noticing-well, without him being able to catch you. It was her only advantage. But it wasn’t possible without a distraction. Fortunately, her new found companion happened to be one. This consideration caused her to whirl around. Sickening. You’d abandon him so quickly? But I don’t even know him… And what about her? She was only a victim. Razia paused to imagine what fate lay in store for the poor girl. Hopeless in the wake of this monstrous man. No, she should not run. But she couldn’t stay… In was her nature to flee from a fight. To run, when she must defend. It was her greatest flaw, no doubt. The real reason for abandoning what she’d always known… No, she mentally denied it. She had answer to pursue. But she couldn’t help knowing that her fear had driven her away from a glorious life, thrown her across the world, and sent her to chase something she half-knew did not exist. It was stupid, but real enough to try to ignore. And once again, it had gotten the better of her. She turned to face the forest. A step further, and she turned her face downward, closing her eyes. Frozen, muscles tense, she gritted her teeth, attempting to swallow the fear that so enveloped her. What happened to courage? She asked herself. Honor, duty? Perhaps she never had those things. She was nothing… Movement above made her jump, almost losing her footing. She knelt down, wild eyes scanning the treetops. She was met by an eerie silence. Did he kill him after all? Was she too late? Her gaze trained on a flurry of feathers, and a familiar set of wings appeared. Andaer sat aloft, peering down through the trees. Somehow, he knew not to bring attention to himself. He watched his master, and she stared back, memories flooding her mind. He cooed out to her, but she did not respond, paralyzed. She knew what this meant. His presence signified that she could run. She could disappear. But something beckoned her back. She didn’t know what it was, but it burned at her from the inside out. Was it honor? Was it generosity? It didn’t matter. Her feet carried her back to the ruins, her hands pressed against the stone. Her breath became silent, and her heart regulated itself. She was suddenly out of control, and she circled the clearing, staying low. Hopefully, he would not notice her movement. Not long, and she found herself at the mouth of the clearing, opposite from the two figures at a shorter distance than she would have liked. However, the enemy did not face her. Her eyes drifted down to her comrade, sending a silent apology. Just hold out a little longer… Glancing back up at the Simenestra, she took a few steps further, ducking behind another wall. Now, she focused on a closer figure that he seemed to have forgotten. The girl was bound and gagged, most likely in shock. She was surrounded by ash and scorched earth, though sat perfectly still. Razia eyed the two figures across the clearing once more before sidling along the wall and kneeling beside the girl. She was met with a horrified stare, and an attempt at a scream. The Inarta cupped her hand over the girl’s mouth, tucking her gloved hand into the bindings and lifting her a little ways off the ground. “Sorry about this…” She breathed, dragging her backward toward the trees. Razia had never been particularly strong, and the girl squirmed about, making it difficult to pull. However, she managed to bring her around the back of a sandstone wall, where she propped her up. Sinking to her knees, Razia leaned over the girl, reaching behind her to untie her bindings. Frustration began to build as minutes passed by, but eventually she loosened her enough to pull her hands free of the rope and untangle her thin frame. The girl immediately reached up to rip the gag away from her lips, which parted to speak. Razia raised a hand, and the girl silenced. The Inarta, shot a wary glance toward the clearing before looking back to the girl and pointing toward the trees. The two turned, and the girl flinched back at a sudden movement. Andaer perched above a few yards away, eagerly fidgeting. Razia leaned forward, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder and whispering into her ear, “Stay put and don’t make a sound. Don’t look. Don’t listen. If something happens, don’t run. Don’t move. You will be safe.” Her voice trembled, even at such a low volume, but the girl seemed to understand. Razia unbuttoned her hooded leather jacket, slipping out of the sleeves and placing it over the girl’s shoulders. She gave her a curt nod, tightened her grip on her shoulder for a moment before releasing her and turning back to the clearing. She knew he would see her instantly. Her uncovered fiery hair and deep green fabric tunic would do little to conceal her. She had no dagger. No magic. No bow. She was walking to her death, certainly. She clung to the hope, the reassurance, that she was not alone. That there was some chance or their survival, though very little. With this in mind, she scanned the ashen wasteland. A glint of metal caught her eye, and she sidled forward again, scooping a half buried sword out of the dirt. It was heavier than she expected, and its grip was awkward and foreign in the palm of her hand. But it was something… Standing to her full height, she stepped out of the shadows, holding the sword at her hip, eyes glued to the figure ahead. Fighting the building tremors across her body, she forced herself to steady just an instant to let out a clear and assertive “Hey!”

[Wrenmae]

The Symenestra watched her, a smile curling at the edge of his lips. She was strong, the red hair a clear indication of the Inartan people. Robust and tough, they handled pregnancies rather well in Kalinor. Just as well he take two of them, then. "My dear," the spiderfolk cooed, holding out long clawed fingers toward her, "What a brave little sacrifice you are, so intent to defend and fight, and with a little sword to...aren't we quaint?" Wrenmae coughed against the stones where he had fallen, spitting the blood congealing in his mouth to the ground, reddening the dead stones. He was alive, still, his body ached and burned, but he was still conscious, still strong. Or at least he liked to think that he was. Gripping the stones beneath his hands, he channeled Djed through his palms, soaking his fists in them. She stood, unfazed, as the Symenestra moved toward her, long leg after long leg crunching the ashes of the brigands beneath his feet. Wrenmae leveled both hands at the creature and swung them together. A gust of wind hurled off his finger and launched the Symenestra away from her, the lithe creature flipping around in the air before tumbling across the stones. He ran in front of Razia, gasping, brushing small stones from his arm and leveling his blade at the Symenestra who was only now picking himself up. His opponent hissed, low in the back of his throat, red eyes narrowing dangerously at the two. "A smart lad would stay down, play dead, and now you've left me no choice but to make sure the next time is the last time." Gulping, Wrenmae pushed Razia back into the ruins, whirling around with his dagger and rushing the monster again. Scowling, the Symenestra gestured and a fireball carved the air toward the hypnotist. Bringing out his left hand, Wrenmae called forth the res in himself. Go, become wind, and knocked the fireball askew, never stopping in his ful-tilted sprint. Another gout of flame lanced off the Symenestras hands, more a discouraging burst of flame than anything else. His res supply was being depleted and he couldn't risk overgiving. Perhaps that was the dint of it, the problem with the Symenstra's decision. He underestimated the raw desperation animating the boy's limbs. It wasn't simply fury or justice that motivated him, hardly even fear. It was desperation, knowing that if he failed this charge, Razia, the other girl, and himself would likely die. Therein lied the mistake. Wrenmae continued through the flames, licks of fire burning at his face and hair, and brought his dagger plunghing through the chest of the Spider, launching both of them against the stone with a resounding crack. The Symenestra gasped, his lungs filling with blood as he scrabbled weakly at the hilt protruding from his chest. His red eyes were wide, staring, blankly, desperately, staring. But eventually they rolled back into his skull, he grew still, he stopped struggling. Wrenmae did not stop stabbing through, bringing his dagger out and in, out and in, he brutalized the corpse, cracking hollow bones with vapid amazement, watching the hands catch the stones as if in the process of climbing, only to be limp. He stabbed and cut till there was only blood and gore remaining, some of the Symenestra's venom flecking his right hand and eating into his skin. He rubbed it on his leather armor. "Please," he said to Razia, "Take the girl back to Alvadas, or wherever she might be safe...I...I'll handle the cleanup" And he did. Alone in a ruined bastion, he took the gold from the ground and from the purses of the afflicted. He loaded the gear on the horses and started back for Alvadas to sell them. He had to. To live and forget what happened here...what he'd done to that pale faced enslaver. What he was capable of in his most desperate moments.

[Phoenix]

Wrenmae

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Composition	1
Detection	5
Reimancy	3
Glyphing	3
Morphing	4
Shielding	2
Long Dagger	2
Unarmed	2
Wilderness Survival	1
Stealth	3
Leadership	5
Auristics	4

Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	Playing at the Hero
•	Saving those Kidnapped
•	Race: Inarta (Incomplete)
•	The weight of a conscious
•	Race: Symenestra (Incomplete)
•	Medicine: Severe Burn

The Order of the Phoenix

I loved this thread! I really did! So much happened in such a little time and yet you both handled it really well. I tried to award XP for everything that I saw, but I'm sure I missed something!

Razia- Wind Eagles speak via mind. Nari doesn't give the Endal the ability to exactly understand the sounds that come out of the birds mouth Just for your information in the future.

Otherwise, Great job you two!

Wrenmae survived with quite a few severe burns. There will be no scarring on his face or hands if he is able to get the right ointment and treatments. Otherwise, he will have a burn scar underneath his left ear and down onto his neck.

He also lifted the Sym's purse, which contained 15 gold miza's and managed to salvage a backpack with two weeks worth of food and supplies.

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.