[@SSW] [@Yankee] [@Gracefully]

[h3]Overlooking a Flow. District V[/h3]


A formula painted in the ground with magical energy, a magic circle formed within the snow, out of the snow. Ice that laid the foundation, filling the circle that was made by the virtue of the snow being displaced out in that shape by the magical energy. A simple creation. A quick preparation as he could only hope to assume that the very basics of theory and magical energy could be applied as countermeasures with how it was likely that this was an eastern practitioner.

To call it a trap was hardly correct, but as she closed in from the streets came soldiers. Not human, but soldiers nonetheless. Scarred armor, flowery flags and heraldry, exotic blades and blood-soaked rags. Walking in pairs of two, the sound of blades rusting from being stained in blood from endless battle began to fill the air.

A strange macabre sight, two fake men tied by their waists like conjoined twins, walking together towards the same goal even as they attacked each other, completely matched with the same conviction, no, same bloodlust. They sported ugly violence against each other in the name of their own, same, god. But was that the reason, or was it just a justification? Something to scream for to profess themselves as superior even as they simply wished to kill.

Strange puppets, strange indeed. The warriors of Islam, the warriors of Christ. The Holy Romans and the Saracen. It just so happened that they marched to involve her in their violence. A battle of the sacred devolving into ugly secular means. They were puppets meant to tell a story, and a weapon to slay those who were “not us”, an enemy to repel “outsiders”.

But it would take time for them to reach, and in that time he could take her measure.

He moved, not as fast as her, but with two more bullets launched from his knuckles as his other hand grabbed two more claws out of seemingly nowhere. Closing in he swiped,, two of the blades striking out at her with the shadow behind him mimicking, forming an overlapping formation of slashes that hunted her down and repelled, utilizing the differing reaches and length that they held. The wide sweeping arcs of the long gastly claws of the puppet swiped more fiercely and faster than him while holding greater range and area. But closer as he was, the slash of his left hand claw with its two black keys was more precise, while the single held blade in his right held her at bay as if it were a rapier. 

She was fast, and likely strong. But nothing showed that she was a monster, not like the mage hunters he knew, or the one that became his sword.