The Sorceress, the Ranger, and Potions Anonymus

[Axeheart]

Seven more had come into the "room." One was dispatched immediately by another of Kishurin's arrows. He was obviously not the greatest archer, but with the range so small, it would've been rather difficult to miss anyways. The remaining six split up and Mac and Kishurin were forced to contend with three apiece.

Mac slashed again with his axe, hoping to get two of them with one blow, but he had swung too soon, leaving him open to a counter-attack. One of the bandits managed to stab him in the side, but it wasn't deep and was nowhere near any vital organs. Another tried to slash through his armor, but the short sword just clanged off, leaving a small bruise underneath. The third tried at Mac's head with a club, but his clumsy attack was nowhere near accurate.

Recovering with some pain, Mac turned the blade, and with a roar, cleaved one bandit and cut another. The first one bled through a gaping wound in his chest and shoulder and dropped to the ground. The second one took a little pain in his shoulder but avenged himself with a deep stab in Mac's left arm. Howling in pain, Mac kicked the bandit, knocking him down. Mac's arm hurt terribly, and the weight of the axe was becoming harder to bear. These guys'll kill meh if I don't shake 'em off. I wonder how the human's doing? He chanced a quick glance and saw Kishurin holding his own fairly well, having done in one and knocked down another. Heh...even though he's obviously green, he's actually doing better than me...I wonder if he'll be able to keep his luck up for much longer...

[hamnat]

Fire filled her surroundings. Shenjara seemed to be in a burning landscape, what looked like a large town after being sacked and burned. There was another person there, Joran, of course. Shenjara was breathing heavily from the heat and the effort she'd used to resist Death. "Hello, Joran...*huff & puffing* Mind telling me just what the hell is going on?" she said while she caught her breath. Joran looked at her gravely, saying solemnly, "Shen...you can't use that much energy for your magic...but besides that, there's something else here at work. That shouldn't have drained you like that; you still had a fair portion of spiritual energy left for use. Just so you're aware, you are still rather close to death. Just standing here makes me feel like I'm going to melt."

Shenjara looked straight at Joran when she realized she was still in peril. He was definitely right; the surrounding area was exceptionally hot, even for her normal hot. And since it's within the confines of my mind...I could safely assume that I'm running a very high fever right about now. "Indeed, you are right, Joran. I hope I'll be able to get out of this with my life," she said.

Shenjara was startled as she heard someone walking close by. Joran wasn't moving, so someone else was there. Looking over at Joran, she noticed he was quite tense. What's bothering him suddenly? Shenjara looked around and found the person. It was a human woman, about her height and with simmering blue-green hair. She seemed to know where she was going because she had her eyes closed as she walked. She carried a staff with a dim red light near the top. Strange...are those...runes?

As the woman came closer, Shenjara noticed that she was wearing a red robe and had yellow eyes. Strange eye color for a human "Shen," Joran said quietly, "don't let your guard down." Shenjara nodded her head. On the ground by her feet, she noticed a plain staff made of oak. She picked it up and held it with her right hand; it felt rather familiar...

[Kishurin]

Kishurin lunged at the man who had just fallen, trying to get him while he was vulnerable, but the other man smacked him in the side with a club, knocking him over. The first man got back up and was very angry. Well there goes my chance...agh, my side! Kishurin ached horribly as he lay on top of a pile of what looked like used wine bottles. Now why would anyone ever want to keep wine bottles? Hmm....

As the bandits came closer, Kishurin quickly sheathed his knives and grabbed two wine bottles, hurling them at his foes. One of them dodged the bottle, which broke on the wall behind him, but the other crashed into its target's face, shattering and leaving bloody cuts all over his face. "Take that, vermin!" he said as he picked more up, hurling one over at the men attacking the dwarf and the other one at the guy with the bloody face. Kishurin heard the sound of two shattering bottles followed by two bandits roaring in pain. The one with the bloody face now had a large glass shard sticking out of his face. He dropped and rolled on the floor into a pile of leather goods. He was definitely out of the fight.

There was just one left in front of Kishurin. He grabbed two more bottles, hurling the one in his right hand at the guys attacking Mac and then grabbing a knife with it. The bandit in front of him looked enraged but cautious. Kishurin had already proved he could throw a wine bottle well, but now that it was face to face...well, they would just see. Let's see how this guy likes a wine bottle in the face and a knife in the chest. Kishurin was caught up in the battle. He didn't even care how he defeated the bandits, as long as he prevailed.

[Axeheart]

Dropping his axe and pulling out his greatsword, Mac glared at the one still standing. He had a sword in his hand and bloodshot eyes. The one that Mac had kicked was getting back up, his hand on his stomach. Don't mess with a Dukrav, fool. Mac stabbed at the bandit with the bloodshot eyes, missing as he dodged, but following through and stabbing the other one in the shoulder. He roared in pain as blood flowed from the wound.

Clang

The sound came from behind as the other man tried to break through Mac's armor, but failed to pierce the metal. Mac tried to yank his sword out of the bandit's shoulder, but it had gotten stuck in the rocks. He was completely vulnerable, and the bandit in front of him was switching sword hands, getting ready to strike. As he raised his sword for the attack, something glass flew at him and smashed against his head. He dropped his sword and fell over, wrenching Mac's sword from the rocks. He was on top of Mac now, who proceeded to push him off and yank the sword out of his shoulder.

Another bottle crashed at the other bandit's feet, causing him to jump and howl in pain. Kishurin had found some bottles and was throwing them around. They each had only one guy left to take care off. This is th' easy part. One on one, though I'm worse off then 'im. Good thing they can't fight fer anythin' Mac got up and slashed his opponent's left arm, cutting down to the bone. He countered with an attack that deepened the wound in Mac's arm. Mac nearly dropped his sword, but held firm with an attack that made a deep groove in the bandit's chest, slashing from his hip to his shoulder. The bandit dropped, taken out of combat by his injuries. Ach...meh arm. Ah'd better ge' i' checked out by some healer..

[hamnat]

"Well, well, Miss Flamespire. We mustn't over-exert ourselves. Tsk Tsk." The woman's voice was charming and foul at the same time. The woman reeked of deception, hatred, and lust. She felt evil to Shenjara. Shenjara gripped the staff more tightly. Everything around her was hot, and a drop of sweat stung her eye. As she wiped the sweat from her eyes, she suddenly found herself on the ground, her cheek searing in pain. Her jaw ached, but a quick check revealed no lost teeth.

The woman had knocked her to the ground with her staff, slamming it into Shenjara's face. Using the staff in her hand, Shenjara got back to her feet. The side of her face ached painfully from the blow. With blood in her voice, Shenjara queried the woman, "And just what, by the might of the Thaynes, gave you reason to do that!?" She leaned heavily on the staff; her head was swimming and she could barely keep her balance.

The woman smiled coldly, her teeth showing in the right side of her mouth. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Miss Flamespire. My hand must've...slipped," she said with a mean chuckle. With great skill, the woman twirled the staff around and struck at her left knee. Shenjara parried with her staff, blocking the attack, but losing her balance and falling over again. Her leg hurt from the fall, but it was minor and nothing to worry about. Who is this woman...Why is she attacking me like this?

[Kishurin]

Kishurin seemed to be in a state of bloodlust, unusual for his normally passive demeanor. But the moment the blood of his first kill touched his skin, he had lost all thoughts of remaining passive. He laughed sadistically as he waved his knife around in front of the bandit, who looked a little shaken by this strange human. The bandit began to charge Kishurin. "I'm gonna make you pay, you bastard! You're gonna d-" he said as he charged. But before he could finish his sentence and bring his sword down on the strange human, he had a knife in his gut and one of the bottle points in his shoulder.

He roared in pain and head-butted Kishurin. Kishurin seemed unfazed and shook off the pain in his head. He kicked the bandit, thrusting him backwards into a pile of metal odds and ends, many of them sharp. The agony was unbearable, and the bandit rolled his head around, disoriented from the pain and his injuries. Kishurin came down on him with the knife and the broken bottle and ended it for the bandit.

Breathing heavily, Kishurin pulled his knife out of the man. Huffing and puffing, he looked around the room with wide eyes, searching for more enemies. He noticed only Mac, the dwarf, and began to walk heavily towards him, brandishing the knife. His senses cleared a little and the sudden burst of fury left him. He dropped to his knees, the pain of his injuries hitting him like a lead weight. He felt very tired out, as though he'd been running all day.

Kishurin slowly got to his feet and looked at his arms. His left arm was badly bruised and both his arms had blood spatters on them. Though he'd skinned animals before, seen their blood and guts, he had never experience human blood before. He wretched and nearly vomited just from the sight of it. He felt ashamed of himself for having caused what must be excruciating pain. He hadn't wanted to cause so much pain, but his senses seemed to have left him in the fight. He had become a mad beast, and he loathed himself for it. Such pain...how could I...cause this?

[Axeheart]

Though his arm was badly hurt, and would leave him a nasty scar for the rest of his life, it would definitely heal, quickly too, if his healer was good enough. Mac looked over at the human. He seemed to be very depressed about something, a stark contrast to how he seemed while he was fighting the bandits back. Maybe he's never killed anyone before and it just now hit 'im... Mac sheathed his greatsword and picked his axe up, putting that on his back.

Mac looked over at the elf-girl, who was undisturbed during the battle. Her face was now pinkish all over, as though something hot was right in front of her face. She winced suddenly and jerked her head to the side, almost as though someone had punched her in the face. He rushed over to her and felt her cheek and forehead. They were still hot, but it was no longer deadly. She seemed to be in pain though. Something was hurting her, though whether it was something in her mind or body, Mac couldn't tell. "Oy, Kishurin! Once ye' ge' over yer first kill, ge' yer stuff together and then help meh with this girl. She seems to have stabilized, and her fever's dropped, but she's in pain o' some sor'. Le's ge' a move on. We can worry abou' other stuff later."

[hamnat]

Shenjara was officially pissed off. This purple-haired assailant was about to face a demon's wrath. Even if she had no energy left for spells, and couldn't fight with a staff to save her parents' lives, she was going to beat the snobbishness out of this woman. The flames seemed extra high behind her, as if to affirm her evil-ness.

In a strangely calm voice, Shenjara intimidatingly said, "Before I turn you into a black, red, and blue-green pulp, I would know your name. I would hate it if I couldn't curse it as I kill you." She shot a blood-chilling stare at the woman, who seemed unabashed by Shenjara's statement. In fact, she chuckled.

Half taunting, the woman replied, "Certainly, Miss Flamespire. I will tell you my name. My name is Arajnehs Eripsemalf. And for the question you didn't ask: 'Who exactly am I?' I am...well, that's not important at the moment. Now, shall we get down to business?" She shot a glance at Joran, whom Shenjara had forgotten about, and recommended, "I would move about 50 feet away from us; this may get ugly, and I wouldn't want to ruin so beautiful a face as yours, even if she did."

The woman's remark cut to the bone. Shenjara actually felt like a knife had been shoved into her heart. She was so angry, so mad, that she couldn't hold herself back any longer. "Like she said, Joran, move a good distance away. I don't want her filth corrupting you as I beat it out of her!" She roared and took the staff in her hand, jumped over a couple rocks in her charge, and sent the staff flying at her head. She calmly blocked it, then kicked Shenjara backwards.

With a huff, Shenjara caught her balance before falling this time. Locking gazes with Arajnehs in a death-stare, Shenjara brandished her staff. It was good, hard wood that would really hurt if it hit someone. A spark singed her foot and she yelped. Arajnehs brought her staff towards Shenjara, striking for her stomach. Shenjara managed to side-step the attack and follow through with her own, landing her first hit on Arajnehs, who dropped to one knee.

There was fire in her eyes. Her originally mocking face was covered in hatred. "You finally hit me, huh? Well, Mizz Flame-tire, don't get cocky." She roared and struck at Shenjara. Her attack seemed much weaker and slower than before. Shenjara noticed it, and began thinking. As she jumped backwards over a burning pile of wood, she processed what she'd noticed. She's got a strong arm and great reflexes when she's intact, but she can't take a hit well. She felt like a wool-stuffed practice-dummy when I hit her, only not as hard. I can end her quickly if I can get her a couple more times.

Arajnehs Eripsemalf is indeed Shenjara's names spelled backwards. Arajnehs is pronounced uh-räzh-ness.

[Kishurin]

Mac's call brought Kishurin out of his self-hating stupor. That's right...the girl needs me to help get her to safety. You can mope later, Kishurin. Get a move on! Kishurin brushed aside what he'd done and hated himself for, leaving it for a more suitable time. He made sure he had everything of his, grabbing a few things here and there, and knelt by the elf-girl's side. "I'm feeling better now. Let's get her out of here, okay?"

Necessity had overridden his guilt AND his shyness. He didn't even feel the slightest bit of caution around these people. It seemed more than just necessity, though...Something about them was just...soothing.

Kishurin picked Shenjara up, bent over with the weight of a body, even one as light as hers. Too bad...strength's always been my biggest weakness. He chuckled and thought further: I hope there aren't any more of them. I won't be able to fight with her on my back. He began walking out of the cave, feeling the wind currents for the exit. He looked back a moment and called out, "You comin', Mac?"

[Axeheart]

Mac was bewildered that anyone could go from supreme guilt to normal everyday spunky in a matter of a couple seconds. This guy's different, alright... "I'm comin; keep yer pants on!" Mac grabbed his equipment and started following Kishurin. The strange human seemed to know where he was going. The air in the cave blew through the tunnel they were in, creating a little chill and making the torches dance. Deja vu. They looked like the fireball the girl had called from her hand.

But unlike the girl's fireball, these didn't seem to exude power. They were lifeless. Mac took one more look at the girl. She was beautiful, for certain. Her long hair was a red to rival that of the torches on the tunnel wall. Her skin was pale, fair, and unblemished, for the most part. Her face was one of power and strength. Funny how such beauty was matched with such ferocity.

The air was getting cooler as they ran. Apparently, Kishurin did have some clue where he was headed. The cooler air usually meant that you were either close to water or the exit of the cave. Mac tripped on a rock but managed to stay up. They were almost out. Mac never though he'd be so glad to be leaving underground tunnels for the surface. It was rather, ironic.