[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/0vyHhwZ.png[/img][/center]
[right][hr][color=white][b]New York City, Manhattan[/b]
[color=gray]City Streets[/color][/color][hr][/right]
[indent]Kori pushed her hand against the concrete underneath her, her vision was blurry, and there was a dull, reverberating, pain coming from the side of her head. Had she been at full power when she arrived on this new planet, she would’ve been in a far better position for a battle of such a scale. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, even if the beggars were beggar princesses. She was just glad she had timed her attacks against the “leader” of the group of Gordanians, otherwise she probably would’ve been in far worse shape.

She gritted her teeth and tried to refocus, looking in the direction her enemy had “flown”. Archaic buildings of steel and brick stood in the path with a Gordanian shaped hole in place of an exterior wall.

In a few seconds, she saw the silhouette of her captor-to-be, though before he looked at her he looked at his comrades-in-arms to see how they were doing. Gordanians didn’t have much facial muscles to express emotions, but Kori knew he wasn’t pleased. She didn’t even need to hear him snarl, his body language was all she needed. As his eyes re-met hers, she scrambled to her feet, remembering her training from her time with the Warlords of Okaara, changing to a defensive stance. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could last. But a Princess of Tamaran never went down without a fight; even if they were on their last breath.
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