Diary of the Dead: Chapter I - Hollow Daydreams

[Witchblade]

((Solo))


It was dark. Torches along the smoothly cut stone walls set the area ablaze, turning the grey rock into a shade of orange. Yet even so, the shadows lurked in the corners of a ceiling high above her head, making it hard for her see everything. Why weren’t her eyes cutting through the darkness like they always did? She could not remember the last time she had actually seen darkness like this. It was as if she had the eyes of a human. There had been many times when she had thought about exactly how humans viewed the world and she figured it would be something like this. For when there was any source of light around, her eyes would naturally use it to pierce through the deepest shadows. Only now they weren’t adjusting. That wasn’t the only thing either. Colours were not as vibrant and she could not perceive the great detail she normally could. She knew the stone was porous, but she couldn’t actually see it. She knew there were imperfections along the wood and metal torches and yet they looked smoother to her. Not to mention she couldn’t see the end of this hallway. It stretched out before her as pockets of darkness, broken only by the meagre light of torches too many feet apart.

She wasn’t alone either. Instead of feeling them—sensing or smelling them—she saw them as they walked passed. They were shrouded in dark brown robes that covered most of their bodies from her view. Even their faces were hidden from her. Deep hoods hid their heads and cast dark shadows over their faces until nothing could be distinguished. The only time she caught a glimpse of them was when the light from the flames caught their faces at just the right angle. But they were merely glances. Never could she properly see their features.

She stopped walking to…to…where had she been going? She couldn’t remember anymore. One of the robed people passing by turned their head towards her and the light flooded across their visage. Her eyes widening slightly as she saw tanned skin, light blue hair and black eyes that observed her for but a moment before continuing on. She felt her heart skip a beat and flutter within the confines of her chest. There had been no pupil, no iris or eyeball definition, just black. There had only been a black so deep it could swallow her. Was this fear this she was feeling? The emotion was so alien to her she wasn’t even sure. Then why was she feeling it now all because some person stopped to look at her? It didn’t make any sense.

Those eyes had not belonged to a human. She wasn’t sure how she knew…she just knew. Though their bodies had a humanoid shape, they weren’t human. Just like Demos and Elves weren’t human. None of the beings that passed by her were. Even though she originally suspected they were, something within her was just telling her that they were something far different.

Turning her gaze from the hallway before her, she looked down. Unlike the others walking around Witch found herself wearing a pristine white robe that was trimmed in a shimmering silver thread. It was quite beautiful and felt wondrously soft against her skin, bit also a little cold. As if the material didn’t hold heat very well. Cold, that was strange. The temperature never bothered her skin before, not like it did other creatures. She rarely felt the cold unless it was freezing and the heat unless it was blistering.

Lifting her arms, she felt the material slide down her skin, caressing her and making her shiver. It revealed slightly tanned skin and hands that were scarred by many battles. Her knuckles were littered with white lines, some of which were raised and others indented. The index finger on her right hand looked deformed as if it had been broken in battle and not properly set, or perhaps it had never properly healed. Healed… the thought of her body not quickly and perfectly healing was disconcerting, but she didn’t know why. It was just a tickle in the back of her mind that was trying to tell her something and failing miserably.

Something lightly caressed her right shoulder, resting there for a moment before travelling across her back and coming to rest on her left arm. The motion reminded her of a snake, coiling and wrapping itself around her. Her entire body tensed, every muscle springing to life and begging to do something but her mind not knowing what. Even her stomach turned, roiling around as if filled with rotten food. Then she watched as someone rounded her line of sight. A male wearing the same thick and heavy looking robes that everyone else wore, concealing his form from her. The first thing she noticed was his long white hair and too gentle face that smiled at her. But his eyes were cold, just as the light blue colour suggested they were. As cold as ice. She didn’t want him touching her. It sickened her.

He opened his mouth to speak. His lips moving and making the notion of speech as he showed off perfectly white, straight teeth. But she couldn’t hear anything. There was a roaring sound that seemed to drown out all noise. Even the gentle crackle of the torches, ambient noise she had barely noticed until its absence and the soft thuds of multiple feet on stone. When she didn’t respond to him, the fake smile faded away, replaced by a genuine look of concern. But why was he concerned? She just couldn’t hear him, maybe if he would speak up over that roaring noise she would be able to understand what he was trying to tell her. He spoke again, her eyes focusing on his lips trying to make it out. But it didn’t help and the sound was only growing louder, blocking out everything around her to a deafening state. She took a step forward to get away from him; she wanted to get away from him…

[Witchblade]

Her foot landed awkwardly, painfully twisting and throwing her balance off. The ground was no longer flat, the smooth stone was replaced with uneven rock and dirt that rose and fell in large chunks. The way nature intended it to be. Light replaced dark and confusion reigned within her mind. She could feel the pain radiating from her ankle, smell the forest all around her and hear the overpowering sound of crashing water, but her mind was dull. It took it all in too slowly. An open blue sky spanned before her, broken only by the occasional white, puffy cloud that looked much like cotton. The sky tilted, rose and then was replaced by a span of deep green trees so far below her they looked like a living rug. They swayed with the wind as it cut through the area, creating a ripple that passed through it as if it were water.

She was falling and the ground far below her was quickly beginning to rise up and meet her. The realization snapped her mind back from the haze it had fallen into. Her eyes darted around, noting the cliff she had been standing on, the one she was now falling beside. Lashing out, Witch wrapped her fingers around the sharp face of a jutting rock. She gripped it as hard as she could, holding back a cry as her body suddenly stopped its free fall, snapping her arm straight and making it feel as if her shoulder had been torn from its socket. Her side slammed against the surface of the cliff, causing a rush of air to escape her lungs in a strangled grunt as her as she lost her grip on the jagged rock. Her fingers relaxed and then slipped from the surface, causing her arm and her body to scrap along the cliff as the sharp surface ripped into her flesh. Quickly, she grabbed a hold of another rock, the rough surface grating against the cuts on her hand and causing more pain to crawl up her arm. The fact that calling on her wings would have potentially been much more painful was of little consolation to her. Pain was a constant in her life and as such she was surprisingly resistant to it. That being said…that still hurt like a bitch!

For a few seconds she stayed like that. Her hand gripping the side of a sheer cliff as blue blood dripped down her arm and the wounds already began to heal. Her other arm was dangling at her side and her cloak was swirling all around her as the harsh wind whipped across the rocks. Looking up, the halfling noticed she’d only fallen roughly thirty feet and peeking over the edge of the cliff was a small, white-scaled face with extremely large black eyes that looked rather worried.

Sighing, Witch began to hoist herself up. For a normal person it would have been a rather difficult feat, if not impossible, especially with a five-hundred pound sword strapped to their back. But there was nothing normal about her and doing this was barely a work out. Within a few seconds she was sitting upon the edge, petting the head of her baby dragon. His fat little body curled up against her leg and his purrs almost inaudible in the noise coming from the waterfall. She couldn’t really see it from here, but she knew just about ten feet to the right of her a river ended and fell, rolling down rough rock until crashing a hundred feet below.

“Don’t worry, Daegun. I’m fine. I just lost my balance.”

Witch knew that her pet was smart, but she swore the look he was giving her now basically said he didn’t believe a single word of that statement. She didn’t blame him. She barely believed herself, actually she didn’t believe herself at all. Just what was that thing she saw? She didn’t recognize the building, though she actually hadn’t seen much of it. It could have been any number of places, a temple, a ruin, an underground tunnel even or perhaps just a hall in some structure. And the people in them, she couldn’t even tell what race they were. Had it been a flashback from her past? It was quite possible, but she just couldn’t be sure and that was unsettling to her.

Normally, flashbacks were brought out when she physically touched someone and she didn’t remember touching anyone. She didn’t even remember how she got here or coming out for a walk in the forest. In fact, the entire day was just blank time in her mind.

Daegun nudged her leg, drawing Witchblade attention away from her musings and back to him. She gave him a small smile and stood up, wiping the blood from her hand on her cloak and dusting off her pants.

“You’re right. Let’s head back.”

Letting out another one of his cute purrs, Daegun bounded off ahead of her, disappearing into the tightly growing trees and thick undergrowth of Concordia.

[Witchblade]

The base was bustling with activity. Humans rushed to and fro working on various tasks assigned to them. Most were building homes and not just for themselves but also for their neighbours and their friends and even complete strangers, helping each other out in any way they could. It would have been admirable, if she cared about that shit and if it weren’t for the fact that they were tearing down the forest in order to do so. What had started off as a small natural clearing in the woods was quickly growing bigger and bigger as anything that got in the way was destroyed. Trees older than any human could ever wish to be were cut from their roots and chopped into precise pieces that would make the walls and the roof of a building meant to shelter them. Animals that made this place their home were either scared away or killed for food. Joining the Gol’bron had seemed like a good idea originally but now she was beginning to second guess her choice.

Witch moved through the activity, passing by soldiers on patrol who nodded respectfully to her and simple worker who kept their heads down. She passed the structural skeletons of homes to be, and moved to an inner area of the town where few humans seemed to be roaming and things were far calmer. Most of the humans were out working to recreate one the greatest clans that had ever existed on Althanas, which was why things were so quiet here. Those that were here, quietly moved through the mass of tan tents, settings fires, cooking meals and cleaning various objects they thought they had a need for. This was the beginning of a clan she had been a part of in its prime, a clan that was now trying to reform itself and left her wondering in the wake if this was truly where she belonged. That was nothing new to her though, oft were the times when she wondered exactly where she belonged. The halfling had yet to receive an answer to that question.

In the central area of this tan sea of flowing material was one larger than all the others. No more majestic, no more grand, only larger and guarded on either side of the door by two warriors wearing simple armour and weapons. Leather armour with steel studs that covered their chests, forearms and shins and strapped around their hips were belts holding a sword the type of which she wasn’t entirely sure. She also knew there was a dagger in each of their right boots due to the way the material looked. As Witchblade approached, neither of them moved to stop her, their eyes barely glancing over her, though the younger of the two seemed nervous of her. He should feel nervous around her. Just because she was in the same clan didn’t mean she wouldn’t kill him if he so much as breathed on her the wrong way.

Witch pushed the heavy tent flaps aside, her eyes immediately adjusting to the dim light inside. She moved towards the centre of the tent, glancing around and taking in all she could in a simple sweep. There were two dividing curtains keeping her from seeing other areas of the tent, most likely private sleeping and wash areas. Set in the centre was a large wooden table made with haste. The planks not entirely even or smooth looking, but still serving the purpose it was built for. On top of it was a detailed map of the area and half a dozen candles. Leaning over the table was one Sorahn un’ Rohanhmeh, the current and new leader of The Gol’bron. He was a little insecure about his capabilities, but she saw potential in him. And he wasn’t human. The halfling had a hard enough time following orders as it was, but when they came from a human it was even worse.

“Sorahn.”

He stood straight and looked across the room to her, something rather regal about his bearing to her. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself as a warrior or just the way he looked. Whether it was the myriad of black tattoos covering his white fur, the long muzzle that was more animal than man or the bent back ears and the horns that flowed overtop them, she didn’t know. He just looked regal to her. It probably didn’t help that she was an extremely curious creature by nature—something she did her best to hide—and his race intrigued her. She’d just never had the chance to ask him about it.

There were no bows when he looked at her and no show of dominance and submission. There was just one simple gesture to show a small amount of respect she rarely gave to anyone. Reaching up, the halfling pushed back her hood from her face, allowing the candle light to reveal her deathly pale skin, crimson eyes and her most notable feature, the strings that held her mouth shut. Most people paused when they saw them; usually glancing twice to confirm their eyes had not deceived them. Sorahn did not. He never had and she appreciated that from him. She knew what her face looked like, she was just tired of caring and all the times she had tried to remove the enchanted pieces of string had met in failure. So she had merely given up and decided to live with them as they were. After all, it wasn’t like she needed to eat and drink and her telepathy allowed her to communicate without the need to actually speak.

“Ahh, yes, Witchblade.” His voice floated into the silence of the room, filling it.

He skirted the table, walking a little closer to her as he eyes searched over her body, taking in her slightly ruffled appearance. Though ruffled was a nice way of putting it. Her pants, shirt and cloak were covered in a grey dust that she just could not seem to get off no matter how many times she rubbed at it. And even though the wounds had healed and she had visited a stream to clean the blood from her, there was little she could do about the rips in her pants and shirt. She would just have to get some woman to sow it later for her. Surprisingly though, he didn’t ask about how she looked.

“How did the patrol go?”

For a moment her mind blanked. Patrol? She couldn’t remember going on a patrol, all she remembered was that strange vision.

“Do you remember… what time I left?”

He silently regarded her for a few seconds before answering. “I believe it was late morning.”

Outwardly her expression didn’t change, or at least she hoped it didn’t. Inwardly she practically snarled. The sun had been dropping towards the horizon when she’d returned. That was a lot of time to have no recollection of what she’d been doing. Not to mention if her mind had been elsewhere, what exactly had her been body been doing? She’d been walking when she came back too, which means it not been idly lying somewhere just waiting for her to command it. No, it had been up and moving under the guidance of someone or something other than herself.

[Witchblade]

“Is something wrong?”

His voice broke the silence and her thoughts at the same time, making her realize she had been starring at empty space for a little while now without saying anything.

She turned her eyes away from him, “No.”

Moving passed him; the halfling reached the large rectangular table and rested her hip against it. As her eyes scanned the mostly confusing shapes, colours and words as she began remembering pieces of their conversation from this morning. He’d asked her to patrol a large area of Concordia to the South West of the camp. She couldn’t recall anything of the patrol until she’d nearly killed herself by falling off a cliff. Good thing she knew Concordia very well.

She pointed to a section of the map she knew and used it as a reference. “There’s a large river that runs through this section of the forest, eventually breaking off into a waterfall. The water is deep and there are plenty of fish.” From there she traced her finger to the right and down a little, “This is a relatively large valley that’s quite fertile and would be good for farming and you won’t have to cut down a lot of trees. There are some ruins in this direction,” She moved her finger down and to the left, “There isn’t much left of them though and they’re rather infested with monsters. They’re a nuisance more than anything, I doubt we could use them for much of anything. Probably best to just leave them alone.”

Witch didn’t really know what else she could tell him about this section of Concordia. “Oh, this area over here is Centaur territory, best to leave it alone. They can be extremely territorial and don’t like strangers.”

He nodded his head as she outlined everything for him, “I see…tomorrow I’ll have you scout another area.”

“I can accomplish that now…”

“No, it’s late and will be night soon. Rest and come see me tomorrow morning.”

Her eyes narrowed. She resented the fact that he thought she needed rest. She was not some pathetic weak human. “I work better at night and I don’t need rest.” She practically snarled the words through her telepathic link to him.

It seemed to surprise him slightly. She noticed the signs in Sorahn’s eyes as they widened and his body language turned defensive. It would have been humorous to her if she wasn’t slightly irritated at the fact that he thought she needed to recover and sleep for the night. She preferred the night to the day. Then she could roam the forest with all the other predators, all the things that were just like her. Not to mention the bright light of the sun hurt her sensitive eyes. And what the fuck did he expect her to do tonight, sit around on her ass in absolute boredom?

“You will go tomorrow, Witchblade.” He said resolutely as he tensed his body slightly and squared his shoulders. At least he was becoming more like a leader, but that didn’t necessarily make her happy, especially considering he was not seeing things her way.

Turning her back on him, Witch was nearly out of the tent when his words stopped her for a moment. “Everyone needs rest, Witch. Even you.” Her only response was a deep-throated growl as she passed through the tent flaps and into the waning light of day. The surprised guards stood straight and quiet and little uncomfortably as she practically stormed past them.

She was angry, plain and simple. What Sorahn had said to her had made her feel like nothing more than the useless humans that filled this place. And right now she hated him for it. She hated him, she hated this place and she hated the people in it. She didn’t even know why she was truly here. Just because some humans under the guidance of some false Gods were sent to fetch her does not mean she should stay.

Every person that she passed stepped out of her way. Their faces worried, their steps quickened and their eyes slightly wide. It probably didn’t help that her hood was down and she looked like she’d kill anyone that so much as breathed on her. She needed a release, a way for her to expel this from her system without actually killing anyone. With that thought in mind, Witch turned and headed towards the training grounds.

[Witchblade]

The training grounds were on the outskirts of the Gol’Bron’s current location, just a short walk through the thick trees of Concordia forest. Witch had never been there to train before, but on many nights when she wandered the area she had come upon it. Whereas before warriors had to cut their own way through the foliage and the thick growing undergrowth, there was now a clear path marked by many feet that easily led any in the right direction. The hard and worn soles of her boots crunched down on dirt and rock as her arms pushed back branches that reached out to snag her clothing. Through the thick canopy of trees above her, the halfling could barely make out the sky and the pastel colours it was bathed in. The sun was setting, she could feel it, and soon this area would be bathed in darkness. Already the shadows in the forest were lengthening and covering the forest floor.

Before she even reached the training grounds, the sounds of construction left her ears, replaced by the songs of crickets as they called out to one another. The summer season was coming to an end, a fact easily shown by the presence of fireflies. They wove through the trees in small numbers but she knew that as the darkness grew there would be more of them. Their blinking lights were the earthbound version of a star, one that mesmerized Daegun as he always chased after them. In fact if he wasn’t back within the confines of her rucksack, most likely curled up and sleeping, she was sure he’d be running after them right now.

The peaceful surroundings helped ease that tense feeling in her muscles and her mounted frustrations. But it wasn’t enough. She still wanted to rip through something with her bare hands and leaving it bleeding and begging at her feet. Being around so many humans for such a long period of time was only adding to the edge within her. Soon Witch was going to have to leave the Gol’Bron if only to just get away from it. Perhaps, she should find herself a mission to accomplish for the Clan, or maybe she should consider leaving it altogether. It wasn’t like she was doing the Clan any good. It wasn’t like it was even doing anything right now anyway.
Sighing, the halfling pushed aside her musing for now. She would think about things like this later, when her mind and body were a bit more stable.

As she left her thoughts, the trees around her cut away sharply, leaving Witchblade standing at the edge of a field bathed in the light of the dying sun. Long grass had once grown in abundance here, but now it was stamped flat. It was a rather large area filled with a variety of equipment from hanging logs, to men stuffed with straw and covered in the wounds of what she guessed to be many swords. There were targets for archers and open areas to practice hand to hand combat. With the impending night, there were only four men currently using the last bit of light to get in more training. The approaching darkness mattered little to her as her eyes would only adjust allowing her to see as clear as day. Two of the humans were off to the side engaging in a sword fight. The older looking man actually had some grace and experience in the fluid motions of his attacks. He also seemed to be going easy on the younger man with a cocky smile and blonde hair. Two others were practicing their archery on quickly made targets. Planks of wood painted with different coloured circles, red appearing to be the desired point of attack.

All four of them were dressed in standard red tunics, black pants and a metal studded vest meant to give them some kind of protection. They also had on leather armguards, gloves and boots. Thankfully they were not using the entire area for their own means. Wishing to be left alone, the halfling moved towards a deserted section of the field where five massive tree trunks were hanging from a few large trees. They were supported by multiple ropes and covered in dents and chips.

A few of the soldiers glanced her way with a bit of interest, but she paid them no mind. As much as she wanted a real moving target, killing Sorahn’s men would probably be looked down upon and Witch was unsure if she could properly control herself right now.

“What’s wrong, don’t wanna train with us?”

Her eyes turned to the yell just in time to see the young blonde man knocked to the ground by his trainer with a quick sweep of his feet. Smirking, she didn’t answer him. He should learn to pay attention to what was going on around him. Witch dropped her rucksack on the ground, careful not to wake the sleeping bundle within. Feeling like giving The Rot Slayer a chance instead of her melee weapons, the halfling reached up and undid the clasp of her cloak. The worn black material slithered down her body before pooling at her feet, revealing the multitude of weapons she kept on her person, including the massive sword strapped to her back with a simple harness. It was easily taller than her and strapped to her back in such a way that the long hilt protruded high behind her head, leaving little more than a few inches of space between the tip and the ground. Glancing back towards the humans, she noted their slightly stunned expressions with a small amount of pleasure.

One of the archers was clearly not impressed though. He only smiled, stretching the long scar on his jaw as his bright green eyes looked from the sword to her. “Nice decoration, what’s it made out of, Aluminium?”

Pulling on the buckle of the harness and releasing it, the halfling felt five hundred pounds of weight suddenly slip from her body and embed itself roughly a foot and a half into the soft soil at her feet.

“You’re welcome to check yourself, but you’ll have to get by me first.”

Oh great, now she’d done it. So much for her not taking her anger out on other people. But he brought it on himself; they should have just left her alone. Maybe with there being so many of them though, this would actually be an interesting fight.

[Witchblade]

Their faces twisted and turned into cocky grins that spread from ear and ear, leaving all but one glancing at her as if she were the easiest mark upon the face of Althanas. The only one who actually attempted to assess her was the older human, the one who looked like he had some real experience beneath him. His eyes trailed along her person, taking in every weapon that she carried upon her body and perhaps even how she carried herself. In the end, he may prove to be the most fun out of all of them, while the others were just going to be a warm up. That was fine with her; she loved it when people underestimated her simply by her looks, especially humans. Thinking of the way their eyes would widen in surprise and disbelief when they witnessed just what she was capable of was enough to send tiny shivers crawling along her skin. It would be enough to appease the fact that she couldn’t actually kill any of them. Shock could sometimes be an emotion just as enjoyable as someone struggling within your grip as the last of their life fled from their body.

Her weapons were discarded. Though she didn’t remove them from her person, she did not reach for them. Wordlessly this had turned into a brawl and though to any eyes watching she appeared to be outnumbered, five on one would be far more interesting to her. Perhaps they would give her some kind of challenge; after all, her brawling skills were a little rusty. She usually preferred to mix both hand-to-hand combat in with her weapons, creating an odd style of fist, feet and steel. Not to mention weapons killed people much faster and there was less of a chance someone would touch her. Whereas with brawling it was inevitable, but to her relief, she had noticed before that all of them were wearing brown leather gloves.

The first one to make a move charged at her. It was the blonde boy who had abandoned his sword for the moment and instead balled his hands into tight fists. Dark blue eyes watched her as he crossed the short distance in only a few seconds, giving her plenty of time to read the muscles along his body and decipher his exact move. He was on the quick side, but he didn’t appear to know what he was doing and there was no technique in his moves. He was no better than a street kid throwing punches blindly around him and trying to connect with someone’s jaw. He brought his right arm back and then sung powerfully towards her face, his balled up fist sailing through the air towards her unprotected cheek. It wasn’t even a feint either; there was too much strength behind it for him to stop the attack fluidly. No, he was actually expecting his first attack to connect. Most first attacks never did.

Witchblade stepped to the right and watched as the tight ball of flesh, muscle and bone sailed harmlessly by her face. His eyes had just enough time to widen before she was on him in her counter. With honed reflexes she lashed out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Normally she would squeeze with enough pressure to break the bone, this time she only applied enough force to bruise. Then she turned her body around, moving his arm with her as she turned so her back was pressing up against his front and his right arm was over her right shoulder. Tugging on it, she shoved her shoulder under his armpit, then pulled sharply and leaned forward, using her strength and the angle to toss him easily over her back and onto the ground with a loud thud. Air rushed from his lungs in one great expulsion as he looked up at her slightly dazed.

She didn’t have time to enjoy her easy victory over him; just as she was standing straight the sound of boots on the trodden grass caught her ears. Witch turned around and caught the sight of two figures approaching her. They gave her no time to react, the one already sweeping at her legs with his foot. She took the hit, having barely any choice in the matter anyway. His foot connected with her right knee, hooking around the back of it and yanking out harshly. The world around her spun for a moment, brown and green suddenly becoming a blur with the darkening sky as she lost her balance and her back slammed against the hard packed dirt. Air rushed from her lungs and through the strings of her slightly parted lips as the impact forced it from her body.

“You certainly know how to sweep a woman off her feet, Killian.”

“You should be focusing on the battle rather than the words of your friend, Killian.” The halfling growled the words into his mind.

Without standing up she lashed out at his own legs, knocking him from his feet just as he had done to her. Rolling into a crouching position she pounced on his downed form, her knees pressing into the ground beside his hips as she reached behind her and pulled out one of her twin daggers. As the blade flashed in the dying light of the sun she could see a look of fear pass through his eyes. She pressed it against his throat and then smirked.

“Dead.”

Thrusting the blade into the earth beside his head, she stood and turned to the four others.

[Witchblade]

They fought well as a group instead of hanging back and letting one person attack. It was a sloppy kind of coordination that worked rather well for them and allowed more than two to attack her at once. The moment she was back on her feet she was dodging blows. The blonde boy apparently hadn’t had enough as he threw a low punch at her stomach. She twisted her body to the side and allowed the attack to pass by her hip unhindered. As she prepared to elbow him in the chest, the palm of someone’s hand slammed into the side of her arm, jarring it and sending her attack off course.

Turning her head to the side, she found the blonde boy’s trainer standing just a foot away from her and grinning from ear to ear.

“Adrian, at your service.” He said as he inclined his head slightly.

His voice bordered on mocking, the kind that lay somewhere around a jest. The kind that made her want to wipe the smug look of satisfaction off his face. So he’d got her when her back was turned and she was focused on someone else. Big deal, anyone could come to the rescue, but whether or not they could handle the fight was a different story.

Adrian had appeared more than capable when he was fighting the boy, but she was far more skilled than him. She had fought so many times she had lost count, and quite possibly—and easily—more than half of those were merely to enjoy the feel of ending someone’s life. He looked like he’d only been using that sword of his for a few months now, which gauging by his look of youth he probably had been. Most young humans were cocky like he was, thinking they could take on the entirety of Althanas and come out unscathed or at least still breathing. But she had seen men like him fall because of that and yet she had seen others triumph just as easily.

When he made a quick move towards her that went nowhere beyond the first step, the halfling remained where she stood. Her lack of reaction only seemed to please him more and Witch knew that a novice would have tensed or possibly even stepped back to avoid the incoming attack that they were expecting. She had merely kept her ground, knowing that her reflexes and her speed were far greater than his, she had just yet to truly show them that. Of course, if she had been using her full strength and speed this battle would have been over minutes ago. Then she wouldn’t be enjoying herself as she was now.

Shifting her feet in the grass, the halfling began a slow circle around the human as if she were stalking him like prey, which he was in her mind now. He moved with her, keeping his steps in time with hers so that she could never truly see his back. Surprisingly, while they were sizing each other up, the others never attacked. They kept themselves a few feet from the fight, seemingly content to just watch instead of participate. Perhaps they were so sure that he would win they saw no need in helping him, or maybe they were just more interested in watching than joining at this point in time.

Finally he made a move on her. His legs tensed and he sprang towards her, pulling his fist back to his side before sending it flying towards her unprotected stomach. She caught his hand in hers, his large fist just fitting within her long, thin fingers as she wrapped them around his leather clad hand and used her strength to stop his momentum completely. Surprise danced in his stormy grey eyes for a brief second until it was replaced by a look of excitement. As she switched into the same manoeuvre she had done with the blonde boy, Adrian reacted quickly and once her back was turned kicked out at the back of one of her knees. Rather than fight to regain her balance, she went with it and threw her body into a summersault.

The landing on her back was less than comfortable as her shoulder blades slammed into the dirt and grass. But it worked, and that was all that mattered. Witchblade came to a standing position with her back to Adrian, which she quickly rectified by spinning on the toes of her boots. He was already attacking her once more, bending his body back a little and allowing for a quick kick towards her side. She tensed all the muscles along her stomach and allowed the top part of his boot to slam into the curve of her side. Then she quickly wrapped her arm around it and trapped it there. With her free hand, she pressed it against his knee and began pushing downward.

That smug smile certainly disappeared fast as he realized she was going to break his knee, instead it was replaced with worry, but not panic like most people would. Either way she got what she wanted from him, which in turn made her smile and pull at the strings holding her lips closed.

Without warning, something slammed into the side of her, knocking the halfling right off her feet and sending her to the ground. Her shoulder and the side of her head slammed into the hard packed soil as she landed rather harshly and a weight began to press down against her. She’d been forced to let go of Adrian at some point during the fall too. Moaning slightly from a foggy head, she opened her eyes and looked up to find Killian pinning her to the ground and enjoying his position atop her far more than he should.

“I thought I already killed you…” She said, grinning.

He paused as if pondering her statement. “No…nope. Still breathing.”

“I’ll have to rectify that.”

With him pressing her against the ground, she couldn’t reach her dagger but she could certainly feel it digging into the small of her back. The handle was rather roughly shoved up against her spine and the pain from that was far worse than her head smashing against the dirt. Instead of trying for it, she stretched her hand out seemingly at nothing, only to have the dagger she’d embedded into the earth beside Killian’s head pull itself from the ground. As if held by an unseen hand, it flew through the air before coming to rest in her grip. Once she closed her fingers around the familiar worn leather of the handle, she raised it and pressed it to his throat.

“Hey, I thought we weren’t using weapons…” His voice came out in a bit of a whine as the cold steel pressed into his skin, threatening to slice right through it.

“Who said that?”

“Well in that case…”

[Witchblade]

Witchblade quickly tore her eyes from Killian at the sound of another voice and ringing metal filling the air. Her gaze came to rest on the archer, the one with the long scar across his jaw. He was quickly approaching her with determined strides and a short broadsword held in his left hand. When he raised the sword as if preparing to strike her downed form, she shoved her knee into Killian’s gut and threw him off to the side and away from her. With no weight pressing against her, she rolled to her left and quickly came to her feet.

“Trey, Adrian said no weapons!”

It was the blonde boy that complained, but Witch paid him no mind. Instead she only reached behind her and removed the other dagger from its sheath.

“Shut yer yap, Jacob. I don’t have to listen to Adrian and I don’t hear the little missy complaining.”

She wasn’t complaining. He’d just made the game far more appealing. Whereas she had only been using her weapons for fun, he appeared to be playing for real. “Feeling a little over confident with a sword in your hand, are we?”

“I think it’s you that over confident.”

His face quickly turned hard as he began concentrating on the battle. Witch on the other hand seemed neither to mind nor care about the weapon in his hand. Her body was relaxed, though ready for whatever he threw at her. His weapon may be longer than hers, but his attacks would be more constrictive because of it and he wouldn’t be able to counter as easily. She knew that when she got close enough, his sword would become a useless burden and she doubted he had the skills to keep her at bay for long.

He stepped towards her and brought his blade in a wide ark from hip to shoulder that was meant to cleanly cut her apart and spill her guts upon the grass. Instead of dodging or using her base strength to stop the blow, she collided her left dagger with the side of his sword and sent it flying off to her left and away from her body, but Trey was better with the blade than she thought. He quickly recovered the uncontrolled movement with a snap of his wrist. Then he turned the blade around and went straight for her right thigh.

Witch blocked it with her other dagger, allowing the blade of the sword to slide down hers in a screech of metal on metal until it hit the guard and went no further. He’d just made a big mistake, a fatal flaw if this had been a real fight. With her other hand she brought her dagger up to his neck.

“And this is where you’d die.” She said with a satisfied smirk.

His skills weren’t bad, but he needed keep at least part of his mind focused on his opponent’s weapons and movements, instead of just blindly attacking and hoping that something would hit. It could work for a little while, but once he met someone more skilled than him, he’d lose.

Noting the flush of anger colouring his cheeks, the halfling removed her dagger from his throat and took a step back. Pushing his sword away from her body, she turned her back on him and sheathed both her two daggers. The others appeared to release breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding, their faces relieved that the entire fight was over, not to mention slightly pleased with the outcome. Perhaps Trey was a bit of a hothead that needed to learn his place. If he was, she doubted she’d done anything more than merely piss him off. He was probably wishing a thousand deaths upon her this very moment and picturing each one within the confines of his imagination. It might be interesting for her to take a peek into his mind and see them, but she opted against it.

Then the look on Jacob’s face suddenly twisted, “Trey don’t!”

The halfling turned around just in time to see steel flash in the fading light. It cut across her jaw, right below her ear, and then sliced right through her cheek. Warm blood spilled down her face, staining it a dark blue colour. The sword had cut right through the thin later of flesh and muscle that comprised of her cheek and left a clean cut, slightly open to reveal teeth and gum. Hearing the sound of approaching steps from behind her, Witch raised her head and pinned Trey in place with a look so cold and void of emotion his entire demeanour seemed to shift to fear. His wide eyes kept themselves firmly locked on the wound that she could feel closing and repairing itself.

Just as she felt the presence of the others directly behind her, Witchblade tensed the muscles in her legs and pushed herself off the ground. She used her speed to cross the two feet between her and Trey in less than a second, her body becoming nothing more than a dark blur that disappeared from their eyes until she stopped in front of him. All she wanted to do was wrap her fingers around his neck and squeeze until his face turned purple and blue and his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets, leaving him as a lifeless sack of flesh in her hands.

“Never allow your emotions to get the best of you!” She growled into his mind and his mind alone. “There will always be someone with more skill than you, that’s life, get used to it. If you weren’t a member of the Gol’Bron I’d rip your throat out for such a move, so count yourself lucky.”

His face had gone pale and the sword clenched in his hand trembled slightly. Bringing up her right hand, she wiped the blood from her face, revealing flawless, pale skin.

“Trey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Backing away from him, Witch wiped her hand on her pants and turned around to see two worried expressions and one very pissed off one. That one in particular happened to belong to Adrian, who had most likely shouted that question at Trey. She wasn’t too sure, she couldn’t really tell their voices apart yet. Smoothing over her expression, the halfling tried to settle the situation for some reason. Trey kind of reminded her of herself in a way. She felt like she was preaching to the choir really, because Witch acted on her anger a lot and rashly attacked when she shouldn’t. It was amazing someone hadn’t killed her yet.

“No harm done,” she said to all of them, “He missed.

Adrian seemed less than satisfied with her response and though his eyes searched along the side of her face, she knew he would see nothing but the faint traces of her own blood. The wound was already gone. And the others all appeared quite content to believe Trey’s attacked had passed by her harmlessly.

[Witchblade]

“That was unbelievable!” Jacob suddenly exclaimed into the silence, jarring everyone with his exuberant cry. “One moment you were right there and then bam you were gone and over there! That was so incredible.”

Witch couldn’t help but smile and laugh at him, as the others too chimed in. He just stood there amongst them with this huge smile plastered across his face, looking from her to the others as if not entirely getting the joke they were sharing.

In the short time that they had been brawling, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains and the forest was beginning to grow thick with darkness. The others seemed to have noticed this as well as they began moving around the training grounds, collecting their belongings. Witch too decided it was time to leave. Coming here had indeed been a good idea. She’d released a lot of that built up tension within her, and the fight with Sorahn had been completely forgotten, not to mention she’d had a lot of… fun. Just as she was wrapping her cloak around her shoulders and clasping it closed, she heard someone call out to her. Turning around, Witch watched as the blonde boy Jacob walked up to her.

“Hey umm… We’re heading back for a few drinks and something to eat, we snuck a cask of ale out of the food stores today and well…” he was kind of rambling and Witch got the distinct feeling he was nervous for some reason. “The others and I were wondering if you’d like to join us.”

The offer took her aback and for a few seconds the halfling found herself without words. They wanted her to join them? As in talk and whatever the hell else humans did when they partook in each other’s company. Her immediate response was to say no and just spend the night within the confines of the forest like she always did, but when she went to tell him, she found the words dying somewhere before they reached her telepathic link.

“I…”

“You won’t regret it, I promise.” He said with a smile when he saw her wavering.

“Okay…sure.” She finally said, more than a little reluctantly.

He smiled, but before he turned away, she caught him eyeing The Rot Slayer again, the sword that had started this entire exchange. Funny, if she’d decided to ignore him and his taunts then things would probably have turned out much different. But she hadn’t been in the mood to listen to him and his friends pretend to be something they weren’t, not to mention it had felt good to flaunt her skills. In all honestly though, she could have surprised them with quite a few other things.

Smirking, the halfling folded her arms under her chest, “If you can pull that sword from the ground I’ll let you keep it.”

His face took on that smug expression again, the one that he had originally worn when he’d seen the massive weapon. Stepping off to the side, she allowed him to approach the slightly dull and worn blade. She had no idea what was going through his head, but even if that blade were only made of steel and not Titanium, it would still weigh roughly three hundred pounds. Feeling someone to her left, she turned her head to find Trey standing beside her. Silently they watched as blondie wrapped his hands around the handle, took a deep breath and pulled. The sword didn’t budge so much as an inch.

“Is he actually going to be able to lift that sword?”

“No.” She replied without taking her eyes off the young human’s struggling form.

“What’s it made out of?”

“Titanium.”

He balked, “How much does it weigh!?”

Jacob gave up on his sixth pull, his face flush with the blood rushing to it and a small amount of perspiration dotting his forehead. “Holy crap, how much does that weigh?”

“Five hundred pounds.”

Smirking at the stunned expressions on their faces, Witch walked over and wrapped her fingers around the handle. With a single, quick and powerful pull, she removed the sword from the ground with one hand. Swinging it around and placing it on her back, she used her telekinesis to bring the straps around and tie them, holding the sword firmly in place.

“What are you…?” Jacob whispered, her sensitive ears powerful enough to pick it up.

“Better not to know…”

An awkward silence followed her statement as the two of them looked from one another to her, unsure of what to do next. She felt a little uncomfortable as well, but telling humans that she was some kind of vampire half-breed usually didn’t go over too well. Actually, it didn’t go over with almost any kind of race, even other vampires. She personally didn’t care what people thought of her, but they were members of the clan she was now a part of and she’d rather not have them look upon her with fear unless she wanted them to.

“Ahh… well, I’m Jacob.” The blonde boy held out his hand to her.

Hesitantly she clasped her fingers around his wrist and shook it, uncomfortable with the contact even if there were two layers of leather between their skin. She’d already caught his name from Trey during the fight too, but she supposed that didn’t matter. She’d seen humans formally introduce themselves like this many times.

“Witchblade.”

“You’re Witchblade!?” he practically shouted. Jacob got excited way too easily for her liking. It did make her laugh at his enthusiasm though. It was almost contagious. “I stood toe to toe with Witchblade, lived and I convinced her to drink with us tonight! Whoo-hoo!”

Feeling her face flush with a bit of embarrassment, the halfling released Jacob’s hand and merely chuckled lightly to herself. She wasn’t very good with small talk and so found herself not exactly knowing what to say next. As he slowly calmed down from this, the others came over and introduced themselves one by one.

“I always thought you’d be…” Trey trailed off as he seemed to grow a bit embarrassed.

Before she could retort with something, Jacob interrupted her. “I heard that you were a troll with five heads, four arms, the tail of a serpent and you could breathe fire from your nose!”

She burst out laughing, the motion pulling on the strings that tied her mouth shut. Oddly enough, none of the humans seemed to have minded her slightly disfigured face, nor had any of them asked her about it.
“I can shape shift.” She replied when she’d recovered from the outburst. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed like that.

“Really?”

“No.”

His face fell a little, but Trey certainly got a kick out of it, as did the others who had heard the exchange. So not only was the blonde boy easily excited, but quite gullible too.

Grabbing her rucksack from the grass, Witch threw it over her shoulders and then followed the others through the forest and back to the camp. Within the trees the darkness was much heavier than in the open field, and the others moved rather slowly because of it, but she found herself barely noticing. Mostly because she was too busy fending off a multitude of questions that Jacob was firing at her.

[Witchblade]

“That was unbelievable!� Jacob suddenly exclaimed into the silence, jarring everyone with his exuberant cry. “One moment you were right there and then bam you were gone and over there! That was so incredible.�

Witch couldn’t help but smile and laugh at him, as the others too chimed in. He just stood there amongst them with this huge smile plastered across his face, looking from her to the others as if not entirely getting the joke they were sharing.

In the short time that they had been brawling, the sun had disappeared behind the mountains and the forest was beginning to grow thick with darkness. The others seemed to have noticed this as well as they began moving around the training grounds, collecting their belongings. Witch too decided it was time to leave. Coming here had indeed been a good idea. She’d released a lot of that built up tension within her, and the fight with Sorahn had been completely forgotten, not to mention she’d had a lot of… fun. Just as she was wrapping her cloak around her shoulders and clasping it closed, she heard someone call out to her. Turning around, Witch watched as the blonde boy Jacob walked up to her.

“Hey umm… We’re heading back for a few drinks and something to eat, we snuck a cask of ale out of the food stores today and well…� he was kind of rambling and Witch got the distinct feeling he was nervous for some reason. “The others and myself were wondering if you’d like to join us?�

The offer took her aback and for a few seconds the halfling found herself without words. They wanted her to join them? As in talk and whatever the hell else humans did when they partook in each other’s company. Her immediate response was to say no and just spend the night within the confines of the forest like she always did, but when she went to tell him, she found the words dying somewhere before they reached her telepathic link.

“I…�

“You won’t regret it, I promise.� He said with a smile when he saw her wavering.

“Okay…sure.� She finally said, more than a little reluctantly.

He smiled, but before he turned away, she caught him eyeing The Rot Slayer again, the sword that had started this entire exchange. Funny, if she’d decided to ignore him and his taunts then things would probably have turned out much different. But she hadn’t been in the mood to listen to him and his friends pretend to be something they weren’t, not to mention it had felt good to flaunt her skills. In all honestly though, she could have surprised them with quite a few other things.

Smirking, the halfling folded her arms under her chest, “If you can pull that sword from the ground I’ll let you keep it.�

His face took on that smug expression again, the one that he had originally worn when he’d seen the massive weapon. Stepping off to the side, she allowed him to approach the slightly dull and worn blade. She had no idea what was going through his head, but even if that blade were only made of steel and not Titanium, it would still weigh roughly three hundred pounds. Feeling someone to her left, she turned her head to find Trey standing beside her. Silently they watched as blondie wrapped his hands around the handle, took a deep breath and pulled. The sword didn’t budge so much as an inch.

“Is he actually going to be able to lift that sword?�

“No.� She replied without taking her eyes off the young human’s struggling form.

“What’s it made out of?�

“Titanium.�

He balked, “How much does it weigh!?�

Jacob gave up on his sixth pull, his face flush with the blood rushing to it and a small amount of perspiration dotting his forehead. “Holy crap, how much does that weigh?�

“Five hundred pounds.�

Smirking at the stunned expressions on their faces, Witch walked over and wrapped her fingers around the handle. With a single quick and powerful pull, she removed the sword from the ground with one hand. Swinging it around and placing it on her back, she used her telekinesis to bring the straps around and tie them, holding the sword firmly in place.

“What are you…?� Jacob whispered, her sensitive ears powerful enough to pick it up.

“Better not to know…�

An awkward silence followed her statement as the two of them looked from one another to her, unsure of what to do next. She felt a little uncomfortable as well, but telling humans that she was some kind of vampire half-breed usually didn’t go over too well. Actually, it didn’t go over with almost any kind of race, even other vampires. She personally didn’t care what people thought of her, but they were members of the clan she was now a part of and she’d rather not have them look upon her with fear unless she wanted them to.

“Ahh… well, I’m Jacob.� The blonde boy held out his hand to her.

Hesitantly she clasped her fingers around his wrist and shook it, uncomfortable with the contact even if there were two layers of leather between their skin. She’d already caught his name from Trey during the fight too, but she supposed that didn’t matter. She’d seen humans formally introduce themselves like this many times.

“Witchblade.�

“You’re Witchblade!?� he practically shouted. Jacob got excited way too easily for her liking. It did make her laugh at his enthusiasm though. It was almost contagious. “I stood toe to toe with Witchblade, lived and I convinced her to drink with us tonight! Whoo-hoo!�

Feeling her face flush with a bit of embarrassment, the halfling released Jacob’s hand and merely chuckled lightly to herself. She wasn’t very good with small talk and so found herself not exactly knowing what to say next. As he slowly calmed down from this, the others came over and introduced themselves one by one.

“I always thought you’d be…� Trey trailed off as he seemed to grow a bit embarrassed.

Before she could retort with something, Jacob interrupted her. “I heard that you were a troll with five heads, four arms, the tail of a serpent and you could breathe fire from your nose!�

She burst out laughing, the motion pulling on the strings that tied her mouth shut. Oddly enough, none of the humans seemed to have minded her slightly disfigured face, nor had any of them asked her about it.

“I can shape shift.� She replied when she’d recovered from the outburst. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed like that.

“Really?�

“No.�

His face fell a little, but Trey certainly got a kick out of it, as did the others who had heard the exchange. So not only was the blonde boy easily excited, but quite gullible too.

Grabbing her rucksack from the grass, Witch threw it over her shoulders and then followed the others through the forest and back to the camp. Within the trees the darkness was much heavier than in the open field, and the others moved rather slowly because of it, but she found herself barely noticing. Mostly because she was too busy fending off a multitude of questions that Jacob was firing at her.

[Witchblade]

The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon. The darkness that had enveloped the land for so many hours was now being chased away and replaced, by the bright and fiery orange that marked day’s entrance. Soon the sky would change from the navy blue it had turned into and become the vibrant and clear blue that humans loved so much. But for now, things remained quiet in the Gol’bron town. Her sensitive ears could pick up the sounds of the many creatures that had slept through the night slowly awakening to a brand new day. The chirping of birds would soon ring out and the gentle and soft steps of rabbits and deer alike would litter the forest floor. Even the wind was beginning a soft dance through the leaves and branches. The humans in the camp though would remain quiet for a few hours longer, especially those still sleeping off the effects of alcohol strewn before her.

Their bodies were rather haphazardly lying across the hard ground in a way that only a drunk man would do, as he was without care for the aches and pains he would receive in the morning. Though she had a feeling it was their heads and their stomachs that would be feeling the brunt of the aftermath. Even Daegun was using Trey’s chest as a comfortable bed to curl upon. Witch had never been drunk before but she had seen the effects on more than one human and they were rather rough the next day. Why they would willingly put something into their bodies that would only dull their senses that night and the next day was beyond her. Sure, they’d all looked to be having a grand time, but half the things they’d said made little to no sense in her mind, not to mention their words had been rather slurred and they’d practically been falling over themselves. Thankfully, none of them had questioned her when she’d politely declined the ale, perhaps for obvious reasons. Her mouth was of course sown shut. Drinking any kind of liquid was a task she’d rather not attempt, not to mention her body rebelled when things like food and water were introduced to it, making her feel extremely ill. More often than not, she threw it up.

Despite all those facts, the night had been fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she had talked so freely with anyone, let alone a group of humans, and some of the stories she had, had greatly amused them all. They’d especially loved the ones about regions of Althanas they’d never been to before, but wisely she had kept a lot of her memories to herself. After all, destroying entire villages just for fun usually didn’t go over too well when sharing tales around the bonfire.
When the sun broke the tree line, Witch watched as Jacob stirred slightly. The first signs of it were the increased beat of his heart, it sounded like a distant drum thumping through her ears. Slowly, he opened his eyes only to hiss and roll over, burying his head into his arm.

She smirked, “Good morning.”

He groaned, “There’s nothing good about it...”

His voice sounded very hoarse, either from his throat being too dry or from laughing and talking so much last night. She didn’t know. Reaching beside her, the Halfling grabbed a skin of water and tossed it towards the human, hitting him in the side of the head with it. He barely moved or even acknowledged it.

“I suppose that depends on your perspective.”

“Stop yelling at me...”

She wasn’t, in fact his ears weren’t even hearing her words, it was his mind that perceived them. Watching him grab the water skin with sluggish and uncoordinated movements, the halfling turned her eyes towards Trey as she heard him moving around too. He seemed just as rough as Jacob. As he began to stir, his movements jerked Daegun awake, who stretched and yawned rather lazily atop the human. His white, curled up body looking like a giant rock with spikes and a head. Kind of cute really. Trey didn’t seem to think so.
The moment he opened his eyes and saw the sleepy face of her baby dragon, he did what came naturally to most humans. He quickly threw him up into a sitting position, throwing Daegun off him and scrambled back.

“Dra-Dra-Dragon!!!!”

His loud cry woke up Adrian and the others from their slumber, who’s immediately instincts were to reach for weapons. Weapons she wouldn’t doubt would do them more harm at this point in time than good. He merely broke into a loud bout of laughter as Daegun shook his addled head and looked at the human slightly perplexed.

[Witchblade]

Witchblade stood within the soft and cold shadows inside of Sorahn’s tent. Nothing had changed since the last time she had been within it. Her arms were folded under her chest as she leaned heavily on one leg and waited for Sorahn to even acknowledge her presence. He had remained quiet the entire time she’d been here, leaning over the map and observing every area of it with his large, clear blue eyes as if it held the mysteries of the world. If he leaned any closer to it, his damn muzzle might actually brush against the parchment. He hadn’t even said a single word to her when she’d stepped inside, all he had done was raised his head and give a soft grunt to mark the fact that she was there. Shortly after she’d arrived, Trey, Aidan and all the others she had met last night had entered as well. Their faces had registered a pleasurable surprise at having seen her there, one she had returned merely with a quick nod. She was not here for pleasantries.

Sorahn drew in a deep breath as he finally stood straight and looked over at Witchblade. “Yesterday you went through the South West section of Concordia nearest the camp, today I would like you to focus on the North West section.”

The Halfling nodded her head as she started to picture exactly what she knew was in that area just from her random wanderings around Concordia. If she wasn’t mistaken it would bring her closer to the mountains and the trees would thinner, but there were quite a few ruins in the area from previous civilizations that had once ruled over this land.

“Understood.”

It seemed like a relatively easy scouting mission for her to accomplish, as long as she didn’t have another one of those episodes. She had nearly forgotten about it until this moment, her time spent with the humans having freed her mind of the worries floating through it. But this morning was so reminiscent of yesterday she couldn’t help but bring it back into the forefront of thought. Except yesterday a group of humans weren’t standing behind her as if waiting to receive their orders as well. If it happened again she didn’t know what she would do or what she really could do. The whole thing was just so odd to her; she didn’t know what to make of it.

She hadn’t been dismissed yet and so when Sorahn’s eyes travelled from her to one of the human’s behind her, she didn’t leave.

“Adrian, I want you and your men to accompany Witchblade.”

At first she thought she had heard him wrong. He would not have just sent a group of humans out on a scouting mission with her as if she couldn’t be trusted, as if her skills were not enough. But he had.

“Understood.”

No, it was not understood, it was not even wanted.

“No.” She sent the simple word into Sorahn’s mind right when he opened his large muzzle to address them once more. Her tone was resolute. She would not let him send a bunch of humans with her, tailing her every move. She was not a babysitter.

“Excuse me?”

“I will not baby sit a bunch of humans for you, Sorahn. I work alone, you know that.”

He folded his arms over his chest as he watched her, not at all put off by her words. “You will do as I tell you, Witchblade. These men need to know the lay of the land, they need to be as familiar with Concordia as you are and you are going to take them with you.”

She could feel her anger and frustration building up within her. It didn’t matter that she had spent so much time with them last night, that was then and this was now and this was business. Not to mention if she had another episode while they were around she would not be able to keep it a secret from Sorahn or anyone else.

“And if I refuse?”

His eyes narrowed on her, pinning her in place with a cold glare that she returned in kind. Red met blue and neither seemed willing to shift or move on their position.

“Do not play this game with me.” He voice was losing that soft edge and becoming something a little deeper, as if her actions were frustrating and angering him as much as his was to her. “As part of this clan, you’re going to have to get used to working with others.”

Growling, the Halfling practically barred her teeth at Sorahn. “Fine, but the guilt will be upon your shoulders should anything happen to them.”

Then she turned and left the tent.

[Witchblade]

“Witchblade!�

By now she could recognize the voice of Trey easily enough, not to mention he sounded like a stampeding Minotaur the way he was running after her. Why he didn’t just stay in the tent with all the others she didn’t know. He should have. She didn’t want to talk to him right now, or any of them. He was probably pissed off at her for not wanting to complete such an easy mission with him and his little human friends anyway. But it was a lot more complicated than just wanting to work by herself this time.

“Yo, Witch!�

Sighing as he finally caught up to her, she turned around and faced him. His face was a little red from the rush of blood pumping through his veins and he was panting just slightly.

“What’s wrong?�

She was so put off by his question that instead of her usual sarcastic comment she stared at him, “What?�

“You seemed kind of upset back there, is there something wrong?�

She seemed kind of upset? What, did he think that just because she spent the night with him and his friends that they were all buddy, buddy now and she was just going to throw all her sorrows and her worries his way for him to listen to like he really cared? Did he really expect that?

“I’m fine.�

The growled tone made him pause for a moment, his eyes widening a bit as if it took him by surprise. Pathetic. That’s what she normally would have thought; instead she had a sudden urge to apologize for snapping at him when it wasn’t his fault. This she quickly squashed down as if it had never existed. He wasn’t her friend, he was just another soldier in The Gol’bron, another life that was used to further the needs of people like Sorahn and her. Perhaps he meant something to their leader, or maybe not. But it would be a cold day in Hell before she started considering him as anything more than a pawn in this game. He was after all just human and there were plenty more to replace him.

“Ahh... all right. I just...�

His uncertainty annoyed her.

“If you have something to say, then fucking say it, Trey.�

His face turned hard right away, “No, nothing... we’ll meet up with you near the western outskirts.� Then he turned and left.

She watched his retreating back for a few seconds. She couldn’t completely ignore the feeling of guilt running through her and she didn’t even know where it was coming from. So she’d yelled at him, so what. He should be able to suck it up and get over it. Balling her hands into fists, the Halfling turned and began heading towards the western front of the town. She just wanted this over and done with as quickly as possible.

---------------------------------

She didn’t have to wait long for them. They probably came right from finishing their discussion with Sorahn. Part of her wanted to know what had occurred during it and whether or not they were following her merely to watch her every move, or if there was another reason beyond that. Despite the fact that Sorahn was her leader, she didn’t exactly trust him or his motives. Even though he told her there person, she didn’t truly believe him. She knew Sorahn didn’t completely trust her either, no one did. She was a killer after all and it didn’t matter who she sided with, her nature would never change or vary from that. The little leader of this rag tag group of warriors and enterprising people might not have realized that yet, but he had to have his suspicions. Not to mention he was probably growing bored of her constant objections to his orders.

“How long do you think this excursion will take?� Adrian asked as he adjusted the traps of his rucksack.

They’d all come prepared with the brown, leather bags hanging off their backs. What they came prepared for she wasn’t sure.

“How often do you stop for rests?� She didn’t mean for it to sound as sarcastic as it came out, but in the end she didn’t really care. Having the humans with her meant that she was going to have to stop periodically so they could rest and eat, something she never had to do when she was by herself.

“Only when we need to.� He responded.

“Good, then we should be back shortly before nightfall, though there’s a chance we’ll be making camp out there and heading back in tomorrow.� She folded her arms under her chest as she talked, her eyes straying from his bright blue ones and to the forest surrounding the town.

“That’s no problem. We thought this would take more than one day so we packed supplies.�

Nodding her head, the Halfling turned and began leading the way into the woods. She’d start by going directly west of here and then branch off towards the North after a little while.

[Witchblade]

Perhaps all the humans thought it looked the same. That every tree was like the last one and that every leaf which fell to the forest floor bore the same markings and the same pattern. But nothing in nature was a twin to another. Everything grew differently, marked by the passages of time and the way that the wind blew against it. Just like the animals that populated the world of Althanas, whose evolution forced them to change to fit their climate and their surroundings, the trees changed. Scared, broken and torn by the lives they had lived, even if the humans thought them lifeless. Oh the things the trees could tell us if only one would stop for a moment and listen.

But no one did.

They moved through the underbrush with a purpose. Her steps carefully taking her passed fallen and rotting branches as they littered the forest floor, through the thicket of leaves and greenery advancing along the rich soil and scrambling desperately for some speckle of light. One that would fall upon them and give them the life they so desperately craved. The large group of them trudged through the woods as quietly as any human would, which meant anything within the next two miles could hear them coming.

The humans broke branches, smashed the soles of their boots upon dried leaves and had the unfortunate habit of never keeping their mouths closed for more than twenty minutes. She ignored it, she tuned it out and she pushed it to the back of her mind so that she could focus on the task at hand. At keeping them on track and going in the right direction, which wasn’t as easy as they thought. After all, the thick canopy above them kept them from seeing much of anything but the occasional burst of blue or blinding white as the sun broke through.

“This is rather boring...�

The voice of Jacob broke through the brief moment of relative silence, if relative silence meant the air was filled with a constant crunching, panting and the steady beat of multiple hearts.

She could hear the sudden intake of breath from one of them, followed by its expulsion as words rent the air once more. “This wasn’t meant to be a pleasure hike, Jacob. We’re not here to have fun and go off on some kind of adventure. It’s going to be boring, just keep your eyes open.�

“Keep my eyes open? Open for what, there’s nothing here but trees, rocks and dirt. And all of them look like the ones we passed merely five minutes ago, Witchy, are you sure we’re not going around in circles here?�

Oh, she was sure, just as sure as she was that he paid his surroundings little to no mind. Typical. He blindly followed the leader hoping that whoever it was would get him there safely.

“Are you sure there’s nothing here but rocks, trees and dirt?� She didn’t give him the chance to answer her back before she continued. “How about the river we’re coming up to? Or the herd of deer paces ahead of us that your loud voice will scare off before you get a good look at them? I could go on about the ruins about fifty feet to our right and the monsters that have infested it, but I don’t really see the point.�

She had stopped walking halfway through it and instead turned around to face the humans following her trail. By the end of her little speech, Adrian was looking rather smugly in her direction and Jacob nearly had his jaw dropping. That quickly changed to something of a slight pout as he looked away from her and defiantly folded her arms across his chest.

“Just because it isn’t in your immediate view doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. If you stop, listen and look you’ll notice many things about Concordia that you hadn’t at first. And every tree won’t look exactly like the last one either.� The last part came off on the playful side, just enough so that her words would not mock Jacob and make him feel even more uncomfortable. Considering how this little mission had started off, Witch wanted to try and rectify things a little better and hopefully not make them worse. They were out here and they were stuck together and no amount of brooding was going to change that.

He sighed, “Alright...�

She knew he understood what she was saying, he was just reluctant to agree to it. Whether it was his pride or something else, she didn’t know.

“If you become familiar with the way the forest is, then you’ll be able to figure out when there’s something wrong or different rather easily.�

It appeared that even though she only meant to talk to Jacob about this, the others listened as well. Their eyes were sweeping from her and to their surroundings as if noticing things about it for the first time. Perhaps she’d be able to make some trackers out of them yet, or at least more observant humans. Allowing a smirk to tug at the corners of her lips, the Halfling turned and began heading deeper into the woods once more. They still had a lot of walking ahead of them and soon the humans would have to stop and rest for a time.

[Witchblade]

The sound of rushing water filled her ears. It enveloped everything else and made the wind whistling through the trees nothing more than a whisper and the steady beats of the human’s hearts just a drum that told a tale of life. Even their voices and chatter was diminished around the rushing and raging water as it pushed through jutting and jagged rocks piercing that pierced it as if it were flesh and made it bleed and part for it, though the water forever changed it. White foamed and rolled off the top of the crashing water as it smashed against the rocks, against the banks of the river and everything that stood in its way. Where it was rushing too so quickly, she couldn’t say and didn’t really know if it mattered. She just enjoyed the sound of it, pulsing through her sensitive ears and the sight of it as it reflected the mid day sun and its bright light. If it had been a still stream or pond, she could have seen the reflections of the sparse clouds above her and the endless blue, but with its power, it reflected nothing.

They were making a brief stop at a river, one that Witchblade did not know the name of. Unlike the humans, she did not see the need to give every single thing born within nature a name to humanize it. It was just a river; it supplied life to everything around it and took it away when it flooded. There was no point to call it anything other than that. If they wanted to give it a name could, but she wouldn’t remember it.

So far, they had come across nothing of interest in her mind. Old piles of rubble once thought to be temples and cities were about as interesting as it got and she was sure Jacob was becoming sorely disappointed. Perhaps all her stories last night of grand adventures had made the young human think he was going on one with her today. Perhaps he wanted to sneak into those ruins and find a secret passageway that no one had found before, that no one had walked through in over a hundred years, perhaps even a thousand. Well, she had. In her life, she had done that many times and knew that though it was a grand adventure, it was usually more trouble than it was worth. Old meant rotting and falling apart and ruins usually meant infested with monsters. People usually only found one thing when we hunted for treasure; their own death. Temples and cities were raided and stripped of anything valuable long before people like her and Jacob came along.

As the others took their time to eat and drink, the Halfling merely rested her body upon one of the larger boulders next to the water. On occasion water would splash up from the bank and land upon one of her legs, her boots or even her arms making her skin beak out in a myriad of bumps. It felt cold enough to be ice. The humans were only a few feet away from her, laughing and carrying on like they usually did over drinks and food. Even Daegun was partaking in it, more than happy to growl and purr for their attention to their breads, dried meats and cheeses. He had appeared from her rucksack merely an hour ago and much to Trey’s embarrassment, immediately run over to the human. The little dragon had apparently made a new best friend, despite being thrown from his chest earlier in the morning. Of course, they’d all got a good laugh out of remembering that little incident only hours ago.

“Hey, Witchblade!”

Her head whipped around from the tumultuous water and in the direction of the voice. It was Jacob’s, though practically everyone was currently looking her way.

“No reason to stay over there by yourself; come join us!”

She allowed a small smile to pull at her lips as she slipped down from the edge of the rock and moved towards the lot of them.

------------------------------

They didn’t rest for long. No less than a half hour, but no longer than an hour. She wanted to keep them moving as much as possible. Though the prospect of staying the night in Concordia did not bother her—the forest was practically the only home she knew—she wanted to get this mission over with. Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. The truth was she was starting to think less and less about the mission the longer this went on. She found herself focusing on the words of the humans periodically and even throwing herself into their conversations at random. They didn’t seem to mind either. In fact, they appeared to enjoy her company, no matter what she told them. Though really, they were only seeing a side of her she was allowing them to, much of whom she was they would never know, or pray they never would anyway.

As her next step landed upon the forest floor, Witch felt something move through her entire body like a shock. It spread through it like the waves of electricity, winding into muscles and bone and burrowing deep into them, forcing her to catch her breath within her throat and stop her advance. There was no pain that followed, no sensory feeling at all. Just that initial feeling that ran through her system like almost nothing she had ever felt before.

“Hey, is something wrong? Witch? Witchblade!”

“No.”

She shook her head free of the feeling and the sudden unease that was overcoming her. As her senses reached out into the world around her and the humans she felt nothing out of the ordinary. No one else lingered here but them and the animals and there was definitely nothing that should have given her such a feeling. But where had it come from?

Ignoring it, the Halfling took another step forward only to have the forest around her disappear like it had never existed.

In its wake was stone, harsh and cold and unmoving. The grey colours of it were draining to the eyes when they had been surrounded by so much green and brown and vibrancy of life. Torches lines the walls and flickered against the darkness, driving it back and creating shadows within the harsh corners and deep crevices.

She knew this place.

She had been here before.

Confusion, disbelief and panic all warred for a dominant position in the forefront of her mind and none of them were willing to bow to the other. In the end, she fought them all down and turned as quickly as she could, making use of her legs to flee. But when she eyes should have seen more of the empty hallway and the torches they were blinded by the light of the day and found themselves surrounded by trees once more. Wide and fearful looking, they stared back at a group of five humans who looked just as confused as she felt.

“Witch?”

When she reluctantly turned her head once more to face before her, she found nothing but the hallway again. As quickly as she could, she spun her body around to flee and to yell at them to get away from her.

[Witchblade]

The sound echoed across the stone walls and carried further down than her ears could catch it. Painfully loud and shrill in the silence, the voice that had bounced around the word run repeatedly for her own amusement it seemed, but it had no belonged to her. Though she barely heard the sound of her own voice, because she never really talked anymore thanks to her telepathy, she knew what she sounded like. She knew the rise and the fall of each note when spoken and what had come back to her ears had not been the cadence of her voice at all.

She twisted her body around, desperately turning from one circle to the next, each time hoping that when her eyes turned to the area behind her they wouldn’t see the same hallway and the same torches. They would see the trees; hear the rustle of the leaves on the wind and the constant sound of animals nearby. But most of the all they would find the confused and worried, perhaps even laughing faces of the Trey and Jacob and Adrian and the others all standing behind her. Fate mocked her though and hope laughed in her face. No matter how many times she turned her body around, no matter how many times her eyes desperately searched the hallway, nothing changed.

Feeling a strangled cry of anger and frustration build up within the confines of her throat, the Halfling stamped it down and slammed her fist up against the hard stone wall instead. The rough edges of it bit and tore through the flesh of her knuckles, but she didn’t care. Resting her forehead against the cool stone, she took a few minutes to calm the rapid beats of her heart and her uneven and shallow breathing. As she composed herself, she felt a strange tingle run across the back of her hand and across her knuckles. Looking down at the ragged and torn wounds across the skin, the Halfling watched as the skin began to repair itself and mould itself back together until not a single mark remained upon the tanned skin but the faintest traces of bright red blood.

I don’t bleed red, I bleed blue...

It was a strange eccentricity of her body that she had never quite understood or even bothered to figure out. Perhaps it meant something, perhaps it meant nothing. All it did right now was further cement the fact that she was not in her own body. But if that was true, then who’s body did she currently inhabit and where the fuck was she? And what the fuck was her body doing right now?

...this way...

...this way... this way...

...come this way...

...over here...

Witchblade blinked as she heard the voice echo all around her. It was as if her ears did not hear it so much as her mind perceived it, like it was coming from within her. Was this what it sounded like when she talked telepathically to someone? Did that mean that someone was telepathically speaking to her...or perhaps it was the person whose body she currently inhabited.

...please...

...come this way...

...come over here...

She didn’t know if she wanted to follow it or even bother listening to it. She didn’t want to be here at all. Whatever was going on she wanted no part of, whoever had attached themselves to her could fuck off. She just wanted to go back to her own body, her own life and forget this entire incident had ever happened. Apparently she didn’t have much a choice when it came to following these instructions or not. Against her will, the body began to move. Stoically and as if it were trapped in some kind of thick liquid, it moved and turned her around for the last time, making her face a hallway that seemed no different than the one behind her. Then it began to lead her down, forcing each leg to take one step forward despite Witch’s strict instructions for it not to move. Of course, the legs did not appear content to listen to her though. She couldn’t entirely blame them, after all this wasn’t even her body.

Knowing it was utterly futile and pointless to fight against its command, the Halfling stopped struggling against it and headed in the direction it wanted her to. Whether or not this was the same building she had been in last time was unsure, but it sure felt the same. The stones looked the same, even the torches looked the same, and the only real difference was the lack of people moving through the hallway.

It appeared that she was only one moving about.

It didn’t take her long to eventually come to a door that seemed more important than any of the other dark, wooden doors they had passed on their way to get here. Taking a deep breath, Witch reached out and wrapped her fingers around the cold, brass handle and turned the knob. Pushing the door open with a groan, she stepped into the room to find herself in a brightly lit but plain bedroom. There was a small but comfortable looking bed pressed into the corner of the room, a table beside it with a glowing lamp and a dresser next to that and a tall standing mirror. Beside that was a large, stone fireplace that had no flame flickering within, only the ashes of one that had been there many hours before. No trinkets littered the table; no clothes were strewn across the floor. It was militaristic and cold, as if no one actually lived within this room.

Moving across the cold stone floor, the Halfling found herself coming to a stop before the tall standing mirror. Her eyes went wide as she perceived the reflection that looked back at her with its own air of disbelief.

[Witchblade]

Something within her mind clicked.

She didn’t know what and she didn’t completely understand it or even try to begin comprehending it. But something deep within the darkest recesses of her mind, where she pushed things that she didn’t want to deal with, where she hid things that no one else should ever know just fell into place. It was like a piece of a puzzle she had been missing for so long but hadn’t even realized it. And now that it was finally in the correct place there was just something right about it she would never be able to describe to any other living creature.

There was no great revelation that sprang from this. No flood of memories or emotions that came crashing through the muddled and fogged depths of her shattered and fragmented past. It was just a simple feeling and a thought. One thought.

I know you.

Not a question but instead a statement. The face that stared back at her with the same wide eyed and disbelieving eyes was familiar. The tan of the skin was familiar and the soft and long, raven black hair with its streaks of silver was familiar. The piercing red eyes that looked brighter than any blood she had ever spilt moved around the thin frame wrapped in the soft and warm white dress slowly and deliberately. They took in the strange purple markings along the woman’s strong jaw line and down across her neck where she could see the pulsing and throbbing vein pumping life throughout her body. Her body looked sickly and malnourished, as if it were fading away before her very eyes. The arms that were not hers but rose upon her command were thin and bony and the wrists looked fragile enough to snap with but a simple grasp of her own fingers around it. She could tell there had been muscle here at some point. The remainder of which was desperately clinging to the bone but losing a battle with what must have been a bare rock diet.

Then those arms came to rest upon slight hips that held barely any meat upon them and slowly worked their way up a dangerously narrow waist and side. Every rib stuck out of the skin and she could feel her fingers pass over it in a motion that made her sick to her stomach, if only she had stomach contents to throw up.

The face of the woman may have been beautiful at one point or another, but her eyes were sunken in and lined with deep dark circles that looked like bruises. They made the red colour of the iris stand out far greater than they normally would. Her cheek bones were of great prominence, as were the deep shadows cast along her sunken cheeks. This woman was slowly starving herself to death and for some reason Witchblade actually felt something over that fact. What she felt was irrelevant to her mind and not important, but the fact that she actually cared enough to feel something was.

She took a shaky step towards the full length mirror, her eyes watching as the figure within it grew closer. With amazement, she watched as a body that was not hers obeyed her command and slowly lifted its arm, reaching out towards the mirror. The tips of her fingers, its fingers, hit the glass and sent a shock down her body. It was cold. It felt like she was brushing against ice. Such an odd sensation really, she could not remember the last time she had felt temperature so distinctly or if she ever had.

...y...y-you have to help me...

Then there came that voice again, echoing throughout her mind as if coming from a dozen people all speaking at the same time, all with the same tone and the same pitch.

...please...you have to...

She pulled her hand away from the glass as she stared at the reflection of what was most likely the person asking her for help. Who else would she be hearing crawling through the depths of her mind? The Malice came to mind and for a brief second she thought this entire thing was a trap concocted by it. Some kind of elaborate undertaking that would bring out a series of events and reactions that only it could truly devise. But no, she could not even sense its presence here. Wherever here was, wherever her mind was currently trapped the voice of The Malice could not reach her which meant it had nothing to do with this. It could not influence something when it was not around to do so.

...help...

Clenching her hands into tight fists, Witch watched as the ailing face before her contorted into one of barely controlled rage. In that simple moment, the features reminded her so much of her own that she almost thought it was just an illusion from having stared too long into the mirror.

“Help yourself.”

She meant to speak the words telepathically, she meant to convey the words to whoever this was speaking to her through a link created between their minds. The only problem was in this body she didn’t know how and it appeared they were already linked in a way that Witch could not understand. Her mind was inside of the mind of...whoever this was and she was currently in control of her body as she desperately tried to talk to her. What the purpose of this was seemed completely lost to the halfling but she had a sinking feeling she was going to find out one way or another. Whether she wanted to or not.

...I....I cannot...I...please...

This was pathetic. Witchblade did not care what kind of emotions this frail, wraith of a woman brought forth within her. She was not going to go blindly jumping through hoops for her because she asked her to. She should be strong enough to help herself.

[Witchblade]

“Do not so freely expect others to save you, you have to save yourself.�

The voiced echoed through the mostly bare room, the sound altogether jarring to her ears and grating on her nerves. She hated watching the lips move and the throat work only to hear a sound fill the silence that was unfamiliar to her. Disturbing to say the least, especially considering how much the reflection resembled her own when she scowled and grimaced and looked upon it as if she wanted to rip the very flesh from the bones. Which she did. She did not want to be here participating in whatever sick and twisted, fucked up game this was. She should be back in Concordia, currently leading a pack of humans around by their ears and making sure none of them got killed in the process. Not finding her mind occupying someone else’s body in a land who knows how fucking far from wherever she was in a compound built of stone and filled with unfamiliar races.

...but they keep...so...you must...

The words were disjointed and whatever the woman meant to say to her was not properly coming across to the halfling, which served to only further annoy her.
Witchblade turned to move away from the reflection, having seen and heard enough. She wanted out of this body and back in her own right now before she started doing some serious damage that would make for a long and painful healing process. But something caught her eyes as she turned. The thick strap of this creamy white dress shifted and moved along her thin shoulder and a raised section of skin came into view. Turning back to the mirror, she raised her hand and brushed aside the material as the tips of her fingers ran across healed, but scarred and raised flesh. It looked vicious, but most of all it was a marking that Witch had seen before.

Three circle interlocking with one another, surrounded by another and burned into the very flesh.

A snarl formed itself in the depths of her throat and escaped into the room around her, sounding far less animalistic than the ones that left her mouth. It would have been comical if not for the fact that whatever the fuck this was, was really beginning to piss her off!

“Who the fuck are you?� She growled into the room as her eyes looked around, as if expecting to see the floating spectre of the woman. Instead all she saw was stone and bare furniture.

#####

The muffled and fragmented sound confused her. It was like it had been spoken under water and muffled by the wind to something unintelligible.

“What?�

#######

Again, it was the same sound again! She was trying to tell her, her name and for some God fucking forsaken reason she could not understand her. Feeling her anger and frustrations over this entire situation mount, she slammed her fist against the hard glass of the mirror, more than surprised when it shattered against the blow. Shards glittered and fell to the floor, showering her bare feet and reflecting the gentle glow of light all across the walls. Pain radiated down from her clenched fist as she watched the steady drip of bright, red blood fall to the ground at her feet. There was a deep and clean slice along the back of one of her knuckles and across the back of her hand and blood was steadily escaping the veins underneath and flowing down the side of her fist. But she didn’t care.

Taking a few deep draws for air, the halfling lowered the arm to her side, ignoring the wound. She could already feel the skin pull and stretch and form around the wound, sealing it and stopping the flow of blood before it began to heal.

Why does she possess the same mark as me?

The question had no answer. At least, not for her.

As the anger began to fade and the aggravation became nothing more than a distant thought in her mind, the halfling felt defeated. This woman was going to continue to hound her and pull her into her mind until she got what she wanted and Witch appeared unable to stop her. There were only two choices available to her at the moment. She could track her down and help her as she requested, or she could kill her. Whichever proved to be the easier option, but both of them involved finding her and in order to do that she had to play into her plea for help and do as she asked. As much as it went against something within her and yet felt so right at the same time, she was going to have to help this person. Whoever she was.

“Fine...I’ll help you. Just tell me where you are...�

[Witchblade]

Sound, it was the first sense that came back to her. She could hear the rustle of the leaves in the trees as the wind gently moved through them, slithering a path of least resistance like a snake. Then touch as she felt the air slither across her skin, eliciting the slightest shiver along her pale flesh as it moved down the deep v of her shirt and caressed her breasts. It touched her arms and ruffled her long black hair, shifting it away from the back of her neck and her shoulders. The sensation of her silk like strands of hair across her shoulders seemed more intense as her mind pulled itself back into her body. Everything seemed more intense, as if she were experiencing them again for the first time. Or maybe it had been her sensory deprivation which made it all seem so much more now. Sight quickly followed, for even though her eyes had always been open, only now did Witch start to perceive her surroundings. The light of the sun seemed too bright, causing her to squint in an attempt to shield her sensitive eyes from it. The colour of the trees was too green and far too brown, creating a blinding and bleeding painters portrait that burned her retinas.

Relief was what followed next, above all of her other senses. It was just relief. But she didn’t feel comfortable in it. Something burned at the back of her mind, something that was trying to claw its way to the forefront of her thought and make her realize a truth all too late for her to change. She didn’t understand why her heart was beating so quickly within the cage of her chest and the why the singing sensation of adrenaline was pumping through her veins. It clouded her mind, making it hard for her to think as the smell of blood began to permeate her senses.

Blood.

It saturated the air around her to the point where she could taste it on her tongue. It lingered, like a fine mist and spurred the lust for death hidden within her, the lust for killing. She stumbled backwards as she noticed the blood on the trees and leaves for the first time. Her hands reflexively opened and she heard two distinctive thuds against the dried and dead leaves and twigs. Some of them snapped and broke and echoed throughout the forest and into the drum of her ear.

Her hands felt slick and wet.

Witchblade looked down and what she saw nearly brought her to her knees. The ground was covered in blood, a thin layer of it that seemed o drip down into the very soil and feed the plants as if they lived off it. It was still dripping from the bodies of Adrian and Jacob and two of the others. Their bodies mangled, their innards torn from within and scattered around the leaves as their dead eyes stared off, frozen in absolute pain and horror. Only one of them moved. The body of Trey, he was beaten and broken but not dead. No, he was clutching at his throat and coughing as if finally receiving air that had been denied to him for far too long.

She had been strangling him when she’d come around.

There were puncture marks in the side of his neck causing a steady but not life threatening flow of blood to seep onto his pale skin and soak into his shirt. She recognized what the marks were from, the claws her nails could turn into. The claws that could easily rip through flesh and muscle and even bone. Oh, by the Thayne, she had killed them all.

Then the sound of laughter began to ring throughout the confines of her skull. It bounced and echoed, mocking her and forcing her to clutch at the side of her head with her blood stained hands.

NO! No, no, no, NOOO!

Fucking Malice was going to pay for this!

She fell to her knees, crunching down on the forest floor and not even caring at the sharp edges of a few stick stabbed at her legs. She deserved it and much, much more for what she had done.

“Aww, come on. You would have enjoyed it if you’d been here.�

She screamed at it. For the first time instead of keeping her cool and calm demeanour within the confines of her own mind, she screamed and threw everything she had at it. Barraging it with attack after attack until she could feel the strain on her mental abilities but not truly caring. As she watched Trey struggle to get away from her, Witch slowly pulled herself back up to her feet.

“T-Trey...Trey!�

Her voice only made him struggle even harder to get away from her. Even though she didn’t want to, Witchblade pushed into his mind and grimaced as she was bombarded by the images of her—but not her—ripping apart the humans she had come so close to calling friends. She felt his anger, his pain and confusion and everything that accompanied her vicious attack on him and his friends. Of the people she had been entrusted to keep safe from the monsters around them while she had forgotten to protect them from the worst monster of all. Herself. She felt his line of thought, the screaming words telling him to get away from her as quickly as possible. And he might have been able to given how slow she was reacting. He might have and she could have just let him go if he left her line of sight, but his leg was broken and crawling through the guts and blood of your friends was never an easy task. At the end of it all, she knew he was going to tell Sorahn what had transpired and she knew that her leader would probably kill her for what had occurred here today.

Digging deeper into his head, Witch pulled on the memories from the night before. She forced them into the forefront of his mind and blanketed everything that had occurred within the last few hours. She felt his body change and his heart begin to slow despite what had happened, the mind’s effect on the body. Then, she crossed the distance between them and knelt down next to him.

“I’m so sorry, Trey.�

She didn’t know if he would have responded or not because she didn’t give him the chance to. Wrapping one of her arms around his neck and then the other around his head, the halfling used her strength to twist his neck to the side far more than it was meant to go until she heard the audible crack of his spine. Then he fell limp in her arms.

I’m so sorry...

Easing his body onto the ground, Witchblade slowly came to her feet and looked around at the carnage before her. Hearing the sound of rustling leaves she turned and watched as Daegun slowly limped his way out of the underbrush and towards her. He was keeping his right leg tucked in close to his body and she could see the blood dripping from it.

“No need to get all apologetic over just a few bodies!�

She snarled as her hands balls into tight fists and she could feel her nails pierce skin that took seconds to heal. As she turned towards her baby dragon though, the halfling felt her heart stop and stutter within her chest. Her breath caught somewhere in her lungs and throat and threatened to choke her, leaving her mind blank. Before her, as if it had always been there, was a shadow, a swirling contour of mist representing a man. She could see the trees through it and watched as the light of the sun passed right through to the ground as if it wasn’t really there. And in reality it wasn’t, it was just a figment of her fragmented mind. The Malice had taken physical form.

[Witchblade]

She could still feel it. Despite having washed herself in a river and scrubbed at her skin over and over again she could still feel the sticky sensation of blood covering her hands and her arms, even her face and her chest. It had gotten everywhere. Dirt was still under her nails, sticking out against her pale skin. She didn’t care about the dirt, the remnants of burying all those bodies and body parts, she just hated the blood. It felt like it was covering every square inch of her and she swore she could still smell it in the air even after having left the forest. Even after returning to the camp.

No one paid attention to her. Unlike before when the peasants and the soldiers would move out of her way as if she possessed the plague, now they barely even glanced at her. But her hood was drawn and covering her face and she was keeping her cloak tightly wrapped around her body, shielding herself from their eyes. Their scared eyes.

Their large, brown eyes searching her face for some kind of compassion and mercy.

Her jaw clenched, grinding her teeth down against each other until pain shot up through the confines of her mouth and into her jaw, making her feel like she had cracked and broken a few. But she didn’t care. They’d heal anyway. She always healed.

Reaching Sorahn’s tent, Witch moved passed the guards without a second glance like she always did. They were so used to her by now that they barely even looked at her. Throwing open the heavy tent flaps, she moved into the cool and shaded interior, filled with the familiar scent of her leader. He always smelled close to the forest, something hard to describe, natural and very different from the scent that humans gave off. But underneath it all, he smelled like an animal, because beneath the rationale and calm demeanour he always portrayed, he was an animal, possibly in far more than looks as well.

The main area of his tent was empty of his person. The room simply being filled with that wobbling table and the same map she had been looking at this morning and yesterday. It was like a bad sense of déjÃ* vu from earlier today. All she needed was her leader to be in front of her and the humans standing behind her. It almost felt like they were, but she dared not turn around lest she see their ghosts following behind her.

She could have spared Trey. She could have let him live.

She could have done a lot of things in her life that she hadn’t. It would just be another regret to push to the back of her mind and forget about. Another memory that would be lost to the darkness. Another face, another name that would amount to a whole heaping shit pile or nothing.

Hearing something stir within the private areas of the tent, Witch straightened herself and pulled the hood back from her face. She didn’t want to, she would prefer to continue to hide herself, but she was trying to give Sorahn as much respect as she could. Just as the material of her hood touched her shoulders, she saw Sorahn emerge from a candle lit room off to the right side. The parted material allowed her a quick glimpse inside to what must have been his living quarters. Her sharp senses only able to take in a table with a few candles upon it and what may have been the corner of his bed.

“Witchblade?” He looked upon her quizzically, his eyes roaming her face and her demeanour. Perhaps he knew she was hiding something, perhaps he suspected her. She didn’t know and she didn’t want to delve into his mind to find out, even though she had the ability. “Where are the others?”

He wanted her to tell him they were in town and that she had sent them home while she came to him to give her report. She knew that without looking into his mind because that was the kind of person Sorahn was, but she knew there was also some worry hiding within him. He suspected the worst. All leaders did. It helped them cope with the truth.

“They’re dead.” The halfling said it much easier than she thought she could. The words just flowed from her mind to his and she watched as his body tensed and his eyes shifted. They narrowed slightly on her, not enough to accusing, but just shy of it.

“What happened to them?”

Here came the lie, Witch could only hope it was convincing enough.

“We were ambushed by a group of Minotaur, mostly my fault for not sensing them sooner. They fought but... didn’t make it; my healing abilities are the only thing that kept me alive.”

No details. He didn’t need to know any details because that was where one always screwed up and the lie came back to them. Besides, he wouldn’t want to know how he men were viciously ripped apart by just barely intelligent creatures like Minotaur. At least, Witch hoped he wouldn’t.

“I...understand.” His shoulders slumped slightly as he closed his eyes for a moment. “Their bodies?”

“I buried them” At least she wasn’t lying about this part. “If you want...it’s about five hours from here, marked by five large stones set in a circle.”
Sorahn nodded his head.

“I’m sorry, Sorahn.” The words were sincere, as was the emotion they were spoken with.

He looked up at her, searching her face for a long time while the silence stretched between them. “You did all you could, Witchblade. Thank you...”

No, she didn’t.

Inclining her head towards her leader, the halfling turned and left the tent. She didn’t want to be around him any longer, in fact, she didn’t want to be around anyone right now. She just wanted peace and quiet and the darkness of her own mind. Even knowing that though, her feet somehow turned and took her towards the training grounds where she had first met Jacob and Trey.

Two days later she left for a place called Dheathain. One she’d never been to before even as the name rolled off her tongue with a sense of familiarity. She left because she couldn’t stand to look Sorahn in the eyes anymore and wonder what went on behind them. She left because she hated all the humans around her and what they reminded her of. She left to try to be a hero for once instead of just another monster.

SPOILS:

The Malice: The Malice has now evolved within Witchblade’s mind, growing stronger thanks to her current state. This is represented by its new physical appearance that only Witch can see. It looked like nothing more than a wispy and shadowy shape of a man. He cannot touch anything, even Witchblade. His hand would do nothing more than go right through her, for though he can be seen by her he is still nothing more than a figment of her mind. The Malice now has an easier time influencing her, no longer needing to talk to her to do it, but drip subtle ideas in her mind that she would think her own and in almost any unconscious state he can take control over her body. When it is in control, the only physical difference upon her is her eyes, which turn pure black. All of her abilities and skills are doubled in this state and The Malice may use abilities—especially magic—that Witch has no knowledge of. (This ability—if you can call it an ability—is for storyline purposes and already exists within her profile. It is merely evolving.)

[Logan]

STORY


Continuity (9/10) ~ At first I was confused by the whole first two posts, but once I got deeper in it made sense. With that said, you lost one point for the confusion and having to try and figure out where that fit in. As a reader, I honestly would’ve stopped reading halfway through the second post because I was lost.

Setting (8/10) ~ I liked the use of the Gol’Bron training grounds and Sorahn’s tent. The forest seemed slightly odd, but it came across ok, so you didn’t lose much there. Overall, well done.

Pacing (8/10) ~ I have a feeling you intended this thread to actually serve as a means to grow Witchblade’s character, however, I felt as a reader new to the storyline that I was highly lost and withdrawn from her story. That one thing alone killed this score. I really need to connect with Witchblade more, even though she is cold and calculating. I can’t give you direction on how to do that, but I can tell you to keep trying because your effort showed and I hope you won’t let the score in this category deter you from that.



CHARACTER



Dialogue (9/10) ~ So much internal dilemma and conflict made for some good body language use – as is found in the tent scene with Sorahn. This REALLY helped your score. You do a good job of combining internal and external communication as well as subtle things in mood and such. I advise you to continue doing this, it is excellent to read when it is there.


Action (9/10) ~ Everything your char did made sense for her to do. Even in the beginning when she came across as slightly scared, I felt it was right along with how it should be. As such, this score reflects that. Well done. Especially getting pissed at Sorahn; I loved that!


Persona (9/10) ~ The emotion from Witchblade was at times very right on point, and at others just SLIGHTLY off-point. The emotions did come across and did fit her, and she did grow from this thread, so for that, you get the score you see.


WRITING STYLE


Mechanics (8/10) ~ There were a few misspellings or misused words, but the big point deduction (ok, so it’s only a point and a half) was the constant use of the past tense was and were. Try to throw in some more past tense actions versus using “She was here and then she was there. She was happy. He was upset with her. They were together. They were upset with one another.” It gets repetitive and can KILL the readability of a thread.

Technique (9/10) ~ The foreshadowing of the beginning sequences with what transpired later, and the subtle use of other literary techniques yielded you a great score here. I would suggest you just keep trudging along with them and let your writing continue to flourish as it has.


Clarity (7/10) ~ The language was good. The use of English was pretty good, too. The problem was how at times I felt like you tried to overdo things. It was almost like you put so much effort into making things “pretty” in terms of words that you would lose your sense of self. It’s hard to explain, but a lot of it felt like you put too much stock in how “pretty” your writing is versus the story you had to tell. No bueno.


Wild Card (9/10) ~ Between character development and good use of various scenes and such, I grant you 9 points for goodness! Yay!

Overall the thread was well-written, but it did seem to drag on at times. Even in the beginning it seemed to drag on. Which makes me think that sometimes leaving things succinct can be your best weapon. Length does not always equate to a good read.

Keep it up and don’t give up. It’s definitely getting better!

Total Score: 85. Well done, few people actually get above 80’s when I judge!


Witchblade gains 5649 EXP and 200 Gold.

Spoils granted as follows:
The Malice evolves. – Usable only during quests and with consent of questing partners(referring to it’s ability to use extra abilities).

[Witchblade]

EXP and GP added!

I reach level 8, bitches!

Move is pending the JC decision.