[hr][hr][center][h1][color=goldenrod]Valona “Norsa” Norsys[/color][/h1][/center][hr][hr][color=goldenrod][b]Location:[/b][/color] Storehouse - Gorlf Northern Territory
[color=goldenrod][b]Interacting With:[/b][/color] Kyra [@Lady Amalthea] and Malkus [@Lucius Cypher][hr]	A shrill scream tore out; one that would remind a person of the tales of banshees stalking in the gloomy nights for their prey. Valona crumpled beneath the poncho and curled into a ball for a mere moment but the moment seemed to drag to those that watched. There was now no noise nor motion happening beneath the poncho that Malkus so clearly held dear. And then suddenly the poncho was thrown into the air towards the fire and it landed upon half of the flames almost putting the entire fire out but instead the flames licked the soaked fabric and began to make it smoulder and smoke. 

	Where Valona was once curled in submission, an angry glowering force of a miniature Elf now stood. Norsa had taken centre stage and she was [i]most[/i] unhappy. She remained in the same spot she had been standing and glared at Malkus, her eyes glowing vaguely orange and she stared him down. [color=goldenrod]"You fucking think it is funny to scare the shit out of a crazy, magic using Elf that fucking despises every single being on the planet?! You are a pillock, half-orc."[/color] 

	Norsa made no motion, noise or word to forewarn what was to come next. She shoved her hands forward with her palms facing towards Malkus when a sudden eruption of flaming, hot fire spewed forth from her palms. It covered [i]a whole fucking lot[/i] as unfortunately the wild magic within her slipped out and caused the spell to react in a most unexpected manner. The spell performed at double its usual reaction; so that meant double the heat, double the size, double the pain. Well... whoops. Norsa screamed out in agony and ran, while fully aflame, towards the door to get outside into the rain to try and quench the flames that were burning her hair, skin and clothing. 

	She was bloody lucky that her clothing had been very wet or else she'd have been killed instantly. Rolling in the mud outside, Norsa relished in the cold, wet dirt that encompassed every part of her body. The smell of singed hair was not going to leave her nostrils anytime soon. Norsa decided that she hated this half-orc more than any other half-orc she had ever met. He was going to pay if he wasn't already dead.[hr]