No. No no no. This can’t be happening. That can’t be an ursur being let loose. What fool would bring that into the citadel and let it loose, let alone ask them to fight it with next to nothing? She doesn’t know what magic the others have to use, she only knows she has a useless weapon at her disposal. Tiny bits of flame that she can’t move. On instinct her hand reaches for the scythe at her back, and she catches herself at the last minute. No weapons. No useful magic.
The other two move before she does. Some part of her is tempted to run the fuck right out of there, magic training be damned. But this is the point, to learn her magic, so the next time she finds one in the wild she can burn the sucker to death before it ever gets close to her. The wound on her chest throbs with some phantom pain though, and she wills herself to ignore it, to fight.
Her eyes dart around for a source of fire, finding a nearby lantern that is, thankfully, moveable. She could take the time to find something else to light, but she suspects she’s close to breaking the rules as it is (though she has no other option, given that she can’t move the fire by magical means yet). Making sure the others are not in the way, Weaver darts in front of the ursur and drops the lantern, trying not to break it though who knows, and darts a few feet away and out of its direct line of sight.
She uses her magic to keep the flames alive, sending them flickering and dancing, hoping it will be enough to worry the ursur or hell, mesmerize it if it happens to like shiny things. It doesn’t really matter which.
Though she stays close to the ursur, given her need to be within a few feet of the flames, she keeps herself positioned out of it’s sight if she can, attempting to come at it from a slight angle. It may not work, depending on the positioning of the ursur and the flames, but she tries, hoping to stay unnoticed as she reaches out, trying to snag the bell from the ursurs neck. Once she thinks she’s got it, Weaver darts away, preferring to live than remember what it feels like to have a tusk stabbed through her chest.
The other two move before she does. Some part of her is tempted to run the fuck right out of there, magic training be damned. But this is the point, to learn her magic, so the next time she finds one in the wild she can burn the sucker to death before it ever gets close to her. The wound on her chest throbs with some phantom pain though, and she wills herself to ignore it, to fight.
Her eyes dart around for a source of fire, finding a nearby lantern that is, thankfully, moveable. She could take the time to find something else to light, but she suspects she’s close to breaking the rules as it is (though she has no other option, given that she can’t move the fire by magical means yet). Making sure the others are not in the way, Weaver darts in front of the ursur and drops the lantern, trying not to break it though who knows, and darts a few feet away and out of its direct line of sight.
She uses her magic to keep the flames alive, sending them flickering and dancing, hoping it will be enough to worry the ursur or hell, mesmerize it if it happens to like shiny things. It doesn’t really matter which.
Though she stays close to the ursur, given her need to be within a few feet of the flames, she keeps herself positioned out of it’s sight if she can, attempting to come at it from a slight angle. It may not work, depending on the positioning of the ursur and the flames, but she tries, hoping to stay unnoticed as she reaches out, trying to snag the bell from the ursurs neck. Once she thinks she’s got it, Weaver darts away, preferring to live than remember what it feels like to have a tusk stabbed through her chest.
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
