View character profile for: Cyndel Blackfar
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View character profile for: Glenn Grayston The Inquisitor
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View character profile for: Invicta
View character profile for: Rebecca Stormbow " The Archer "
Posted: Nov 7, 2019, 1:07am
I finally skidded to a stop in the grass. The pain was unbearable. I managed to tilt my head enough to see the exposed cavity in my chest that had been ripped open, and the various bits and pieces of what was my body scattered around me like scrap. I'd learned just then that Warforged did bleed, I didn't know that before. Feeling nothing short of delirious from the injury, I hardly noticed Glenn's approach, as I was blind on the side he came from on account of my face mask and seemingly parts of my head having been ripped free from me by the explosion. At that moment, as the Inquisitor's shadow obscured the Sun's light from my view, effectively blinding me, I decided that this would be it. I was no hero, just a person in the body of one. I didn't get any second chances though. I was so sure of it, however, Glenn must have been determined of quite the opposite.
His hands hovered over me, and he uttered something at me, I realized that the explosion had knocked me deaf as well. An ethereal suddenly enveloped me, and as far as I could tell all there was light. I could slowly feel my senses coming back to me, and with those, I was slowly able to make out my surroundings. He was healing me, I realized, and soon almost everything I had lost had returned to me. Almost.
“OK Invicita, you should be all right now. Two more minutes of rest, I think."
After a span of thirty seconds, I strained to sit up, the pain that followed almost persuading me to fall back onto my back, but I persevered. Glenn was gone, likely after the archer, leaving me to myself once more.
I looked down at myself. My body was, in fact, alive. The wood that made up the inner workings of my frame was thriving biological material. That much had healed rather nicely. What hadn't healed was the plating that rested over my wooden flesh. It was warped all over and basically useless at this point. My blank metal mask had been partiality cracked, revealing a wooden face underneath made like that of a mannequin, only hints of facial features, a triangular, slightly nose-like impression in the center of the face, smooth sunken craters where the eyes should be. Despite what it revealed, the bottom line was that my facial protection, and the defense I once harbored naturally, was squandered. Like an actual set of armor, I would need to have what was damaged repaired. Turning to my side, I spotted my sword. The explosive had gone off with the very middle of my blade embedded in it. The blade was halved, and the half end was a warped blackened mess. My weapon was useless too now. Wonderful.
Attention finally off of myself, I looked around the field of my recent battle. All of the corpses from before had evaporated into war spoils. All of my past sins, erased, washed away, rewarded even. Shouldn't I feel bad about this? I understand the kill-or-be-killed mentality, but I was bothered by my utter lack of remorse. I knew I ought to feel a certain way, that I would have in any other situation, but now I felt nothing.
My thoughts were sent ajar by the unfamiliar and ghastly voice of a little girl echoing in my head.
" No Vicca, don't hurt them! They don't know what they're doing!"
Not in my ear, not around me, in my head. I knew instantly something was wrong. Maybe that explosion had knocked something loose. Self-reflections and auditory hallucinations aside, I shook off the daze and stood, just in time to spot Artimis with a strange girl on his back. I finally stood and approached so I could hear what they were talking about and figure out who this mysterious female was.
Glenn had called for everyone to gather here, my already being close, I heard a bit more of what Artimis had to say than the others.
"She's the archer. She was a Gnoll, then this weird woman stepped out of the forest and changed her into a blond-haired woman," Artemis said.
So, she was the one who had almost killed me with her explosive arrow.
As the others spoke, Artimis cracking a joke in the face of the girl's mischievous tormenting, I began typing.
"We could just kill her, " I coldly observed, gripping what was left of my blade.
"We didn't think twice when we killed her companions. She may have only done as much as wound us, but if she had a better chance, and stronger allies, she could have killed one of us. And as long as she's alive, she still can."
As the words were spoken, I forced down inside of me whatever semblance of morality I had left, deciding I'd just deal with it later when it inevitably resurfaced.