Gwathdraug
Inactive Member
Bia stared out upon the enemies filling the dark and then snorted. There was a sneer on her face as she placed her own spear down and started to peer at the quality of the second weapon she had relieved from the guard earlier.
Snapping one eye shut as she looked down the weapon's length she needed to herself - it was serviceable enough.
Sprinting up onto the wall between volleys the Elysian glared at the ragged line of goblins that supplemented their failings as creatures of war with pitiful displays of fear. Flipping the weapon in her hand from an underhanded to overhanded grip Bia brought it up - picked out the pavise situated dead in the center - and threw the spear as easily as one would handle a dart. The javelin streaked forward and planted itself firmly into the belly of the woman tied to the wooden barrier.
Placing a hand on the pommel of the sword at her side the Elysian woman didn't look at any of the guards standing to her left or right. "Kill 'em. Aim well or stand spent - a load a' wasted fathers an' brothers tha' were impotent to protect. Kill them or let my mercy walk amoungst 'em."
Throwing her thoughts away from the militia Bia reached out and felt the minds of the goblin line hiding behind the flesh of their enemies. Shifting through her memories she pushed towards each of them a recollection - scenes from the campaign in Hell, scenes of ripped throats and desperate melee brawls surrounded by blistering heat. At the end of each disjointed barrage of memories she attached her own, frigid smile that was currently spreading across her face. As she burrowed her clenched teeth into each creature's mind a pair of brilliant wings - not her own, but white and massive like a patrician's - framed the gleaming slash that was her mouth.
Come. Let us make a fine joke together - red's comedy's new favourite colour.
Snapping one eye shut as she looked down the weapon's length she needed to herself - it was serviceable enough.
Sprinting up onto the wall between volleys the Elysian glared at the ragged line of goblins that supplemented their failings as creatures of war with pitiful displays of fear. Flipping the weapon in her hand from an underhanded to overhanded grip Bia brought it up - picked out the pavise situated dead in the center - and threw the spear as easily as one would handle a dart. The javelin streaked forward and planted itself firmly into the belly of the woman tied to the wooden barrier.
Placing a hand on the pommel of the sword at her side the Elysian woman didn't look at any of the guards standing to her left or right. "Kill 'em. Aim well or stand spent - a load a' wasted fathers an' brothers tha' were impotent to protect. Kill them or let my mercy walk amoungst 'em."
Throwing her thoughts away from the militia Bia reached out and felt the minds of the goblin line hiding behind the flesh of their enemies. Shifting through her memories she pushed towards each of them a recollection - scenes from the campaign in Hell, scenes of ripped throats and desperate melee brawls surrounded by blistering heat. At the end of each disjointed barrage of memories she attached her own, frigid smile that was currently spreading across her face. As she burrowed her clenched teeth into each creature's mind a pair of brilliant wings - not her own, but white and massive like a patrician's - framed the gleaming slash that was her mouth.
Come. Let us make a fine joke together - red's comedy's new favourite colour.
Last edited: