[Iron League] The Wrath of the Elements

[Flamebird]

The earth shook with the violence of an entire army. As the landscape churned and screamed, Felicity completely lost balance. Accidentally dropping her shield, she fell onto the ground with a moan. Her vision was blurred and shaky. The air was flooded with clear dust and dirt as the solid earth vibrated. She barely held onto her sword.

After what could of been anywhere between five seconds and a minute, the earth reached a chill calm again. Felicity's eyes gazed downwards as the sound of apocalyptic crumbling stone roared around. However, hooves pounding behind her caused her to gasp.

Dizzy but alert, the downed teen turned around to see the faun raising her sword. As her vision pixelated, she gripped her sword and bolted up. As she partly stepped back, her head started to pound. She was unable to move for that moment. The horrific sound of a cold blade slicing through flesh echoed across the flat mountains.

She heard Ashla scream her name from an unknown direction.

Pain only lasted for a moment, however. Suddenly, the agony of the cut across her stomach transformed into bolstered strength. For the headache she had briefly experienced, her powers were activated by the bleed. She was unaware of whatever surrounded them. This was partially due to her blurred vision; yet also partially due to her newfound reckless anger. For a short period of time, she was completely immune to pain, her raw strength boosted.

It was probably unsettling, the way she smirked.

She clenched her free fist before pulling her hand over the blade. She safely gripped her delyn weapon by the blade, holding the weapon as an improvised sort of mace. Using the half-sword grip on her weapon, she raised the sword in a murderstroke. This technique was aimed to hit an opponent with either the pommel or crossgaurd; a bludgeoning method. Her strength was nearly doubled, she was taking full advantage of it. She started a series of heavy hitting blunt attacks, all aimed at the faun.

For all her improved strength, the wound still existed. As she still bled, the beserk part of her Beserk Rage started to show. Before, she was confident. Now she fought with reckless abandon. Forgetting her form, she struck with less skill behind the art of combat. She was not insane yet. However, the increase in boldness within her violent eyes were apparent. A hint of years of anguish masked was hidden under her rough emerald gems.