[url=https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1444433][center][sup][sup][h2][color=crimson]V [color=2E2C2C]. .[/color]ᴀ [color=2E2C2C]. .[/color]s [color=2E2C2C]. .[/color]ɪ [/color][img]https://i.imgur.com/ewRWdSX.png[/img][color=crimson] ʟ[color=2E2C2C]. .[/color] ʟ[color=2E2C2C]. .[/color] ɪ[color=2E2C2C]. .[/color] A[/color][/h2][/sup][/sup][/center][/url][center][color=black][s]- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/s][color=crimson]⊰-⊱[/color][s] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/s][/color]
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[i]It couldn't have been stolen. How could it've been stolen? It had to've been stolen.[/i]

Wind whipped over the gnome's hair in her rush. One hand pressed her cap atop her head lest it be swept away by the grasping claws of the air, the other grabbed tightly to her broom, knuckles white with the tightness of her grip. How she shivered in anger and distress couldn't be seen as she charged through the air with a dazzling speed. The obsidian, monolithic tower slowly shrinking behind her as she took furious flight toward the dirty plunderers. 

She had to find it. They could not get away with this. 

In an invisible flash, the turbulent winds vanished and dusk turned to morning. The witch's eyes drew wide as suddenly her flight was taken down from the skies to a low hover over the ground. He momentum had not slowed, and just as suddenly as the light of day came, a mounted rider stood directly in her path. She turned, the force of her movement causing a spiral, and she started to lose control. The broom spun out in a corkscrew, nearly grazing the zealous warrior as she flew past. With enough wobble from her mystical mount, her grip faltered. The broom handle made a dull clatter over the ground as the little mage crashed headlong into the grass. 

[color=violet]"Ugh,"[/color] the tiny sorceress groaned, holding her bruised cranium as she stood to see the others, [color=violet]"Oh, what the Deva?[/color] She exclaimed in surprise and confusion at the sight before her. Not only was she nowhere near her dark tower, but she was practically surrounded in unfamiliar faces, all looking to belong to highly capable beings. By then, she had already missed the devilish woman's vanishing act, and she was faced with a slew of battle-ready warriors only paces away from her. [color=violet]"Stay back!"[/color] she bellowed in her small voice, stubby arms held high in the air in what she believed to be a threatening gesture. The one thing that was indeed threatening was the charred, coiling staff in her hand which glowed with a dull arcane sheen even when idle. 

She stepped backward, trying to make distance between herself and these strangers. One of them must have done this. Had she only prepared a Plane Shift, she might've been able to escape this place quickly. She needed a way out of here, and fast. She needed time alone. Steeling herself, she readied some sort of grand declaration,[color=violet]"I am the great Archwitch Vasillia, and you will..."[/color] she stumbled upon her words, as shadows started to crawl along her figure as grand gestures were drawn in the air, [color=violet]"You will pay... for your crimes!"[/color] In her final syllable, one which ended in a squeak of her voice and a plunging of her staff into the ground. 

Dark tendrils sprouted parallel the ground, stretching around in a circle between the warriors. From them, lines drew between them in a complex, star-like pattern with a vague image of jagged horns lining the center of the arcane sigil. With a pulse of magical energy, the darkness swelled instantly and lunged upward into the air. The energies immediately took the form of a blurred, shadowy figure with great, terrible wings, a sharp tail, gnarled horns and, as the horrific beast turned back, downward toward the ground now far below, an insidious and piercing stare. The creature bellowed in a deafening screech before swooping sidelong, sweeping its form around and toward the adventurers. As the threat drew near, the gnomish mage had taken the opportunity to take flight, recovering her broom and taking off beyond the ensuing havoc. [/color][/indent][/indent]