Out of Character:
Witchblade stood in the shadow of Concordia forest. The thick canopy above her blocked out so much of the waning day's light that it turned the forest floor below nearly black, to human eyes at least. Hers pierced through that melancholic darkness easier than through the bright rays of sunlight that stung her night sensitive eyes. As the wind rustled the leaves high above her, it brought with it the stink of human. The stench was so thick and cloying it nearly choked her. Even feet away from the bustling, stone monstrosity before her, she could still smell it, as it clung to the very surroundings.
I may as well be trapped in the middle of Radasanth...
She stayed in Concordia for the solitude, and because it was the only place for a creature like her. Humanity and her did not mix. Certain instincts were getting harder and harder to control as of late, and she didn't need another warrant out for her head. Not right now. But when humanity came crawling out from behind their walls, and starting encroaching on her territory, well, no one could really blame her if a couple accidents happened then. After all, everyone has the right to protect their home.
The sun dipped a little lower on the horizon, Witchblade watched as it began to bathe the large, grey castle in orange. It looked ablaze. Every glass window facing the west reflected the light like fire. The humans that milled around like insects paid no heed to it. She's been watching them and this place for some time now. As night encroached, activity began to dwindle. More of the humans sought shelter in their stone fortress, fleeing the wilds of the forest. Men who looked like soldiers crossed the ramparts between the towers and prowled the lawn in front of the building.
Several carts drawn by tired old horses moved to the open portcullis. They were stopped. Words were exchanged between them, but with the wind, even her sensitive ears could strain to gather nothing more than the cadence of their voices. The carts were quickly moved inside.
What is this place?
Curiosity always did get the best of her.
Shifting, Witch began to move through the thick underbrush. Her feet travelled over leaves and logs, through ferns and flowers, while making only the barest whisper. With her dark clothes, she looked like nothing other than a shadow or wraith as she moved.
Coming around to the back of the castle, she found the remains of a ruined tower. Rubble littered the grass, crushing it underfoot. Some of the pieces appeared to be embedded deeply into the soft earth, giving evidence to the force with which they slammed into the ground. The place reeked of an old battle. Of blood and sweat and fear. Looking up along the castle, she could still see the partially collapsed rooms that once attached the tower to the other structure. They gaped open like screaming mouths and wide eyes, showing thick, broken beams of wood. And a single piece of torn and sun bleached cloth, trapped by rock, that flapped in the breeze.
Seeing no one else in the area, Witch stepped from the shadows and approached the crumpled tower. She stood out like a snake in a rabbit's den the moment she left the relative safety of the woods. As she drew closer, she could see signs that the humans were attempting to rebuild, even if slowly. A couple carts stood off to the side--hidden amongst the rubble from where she had stood--half filled with their heavy burden of stone. Their wheels were half sunk into a mess of turned up earth and mud. They must have been forced to stop from the recent rain.
She rounded the corner of the ruined tower and her sensitive ears picked up the sound of talking coming from behind her. Stiffling the growl that built within her throat, Witch ducked into the rubble. She found the deepest shadows that she could, twisting between boulders that were bigger than her and listening tot he tinkle of smaller rocks that moved out of her way.
"...hate being stuck on the night patrol."
The voice was male and sounded young to her.
She ducked down and wrapped the black cloak around her body as their smell wafted towards her on the win.
"I prefer it to the day shift." Another male, his voice much deeper and with a gravelly pitch to it that made it sound like rocks tumbling down a mountain. "Less people to deal with and you can usually get in a nip or two if no ones payin' 'tention."
As they talked, she could hear them getting closer. They appeared to just be making rounds. She could only hope they weren't going to stay.
The wind carried a snort to her. "Drinking on the job again?"
Movement suddenly caught the attention of her crimson eyes and she watched as two men rounded the rubble merely feet from her without even noticing. They didn't even glance in her general direction. Their clothes were plain, browns and greens and nothing that she recognized. One wore a sword strapped to his side and the other a spear strapped to his back. She couldn't see their faces too well and noticed no badges or insignia.
"Have to do somethin' to pass the time." Said the blonde man with a twerk of her mouth.
They kept moving passed her, eventually showing her their backs as they continued their conversation. It would be so easy for her to slip out now and kill them both, but she didn't. She resisted the urge that clawed it's way up from the pits of her stomach. Once they were out of sight, the feeling, the pressure within her, eased and she was able to swallow instinct.
Standing, Witch craned her neck to look at the ruined rooms, wondering just what she was doing here.
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