ArcliteThe girl wasn’t so daft as to not see the hatred that burned so deeply in the dragon’s eyes - even if the expression in those teal orbs of his transitioned between agony of sustained injuries and slight curiosity. Things like these were minor details easily overlooked, but at this range, it was hard not to stare back and drink in every trait. Once more, as he examined her closely, Rosalie was forced to take another step back; moving further away from the sword she had stuck in the ground that in these short moments had become her small charm of safety and comfort. It was slipping away with each step she was forced to take back and she was quickly coming to realise that she would have to rely on her words and not sharp, pointy things to wave at the dragon. Was he thinking about chomping down on her? She could imagine it now and came to the conclusion that each time he decided to peer closely at her, he was coming up with new and inventive ways of killing her. It was the most common feeling people got. When faced with an animal known to be dangerous, one of the most common thoughts would be ‘is it going to eat me?’ It was fairly reasonable considering she was facing something much larger than herself.
She really had hoped that Gore would listen to what she had to say and that was why she had given up her possession of Glenn’s blade so quickly. Perhaps Rosalie knew she couldn’t hope to take on a creature of this mass and survive, or perhaps she was luring him into a false sense of security. She would allow Gore to make his own assumptions as it appeared he didn’t trust her, anyway. She was extremely unhappy with the outcome, but what could she do? Cry? That wasn’t going to change anything or bring Glenn, the man with the answers she sought out, back.
The sword -in one way or another- caused the dragon some level of distress or at least captivated him, Rosalie often finding that his gaze would drift back to it even though it was practically harmless without someone waiting to swing it at him. Why? There was no way that she could reach for it without first rousing even more suspicion in the dragon. Her light brown eyes focused intently on the blade once more, lingering over the dried blood on the weapon that could still be seen reaching centimetres from the ground of which it was embedded like ivy twisting up against a wall. Is that Gore’s blood? Hmm... The girl thought to herself, pursing her lips. She assumed it was one possible reason as to why the beast kept eyeing it. He had had a taste of it, it seemed.
The blade was highly unlikely to spring to life anytime soon; she had tried it. Perhaps she hadn’t found the switch, but she had flipped what had been moveable several times to be yielded with nothing more than a few clicking noises for her half-hearted attempts. Perhaps she should try looking more closely? Out of the question.
She allowed her eyes to wander over the dragon’s form, making quick note of his injuries that still wept. To her, these wounds were chinks in his armour. Dragon scales were quite durable, and, collect enough of them and you would be able to make armour or any other accessory you could think of. Rosalie had only wanted one, though, and it was not for the reason of dressing up to impress a special someone. No, of course not. Still, it was difficult for her to stand staring at the wounds for very long and instead, she tried to figure out why Gore had laid himself on the ground now, curling up. Did it mean he was willing to listen to her or did it mean he was willing to amuse her for a bit before her death. If it was the latter, oh how kind he was! No, no. Don’t! She told herself, just try to stay calm. I can do this. Just...deep breaths and don’t panic. Who cares if you’re staring Death right in the eyes! Rosalie tried to cheer herself on, though what mental image of triumph she was trying to conjure was suddenly lost as her eyes flitted over Gore’s battle scars. She swallowed dryly. Okay...maybe I do care.
Gore’s responses to her questions relieved her as it confirmed that he knew of their common dialect, though how much was still rather questionable. By that simple action, it meant Gore was listening. She had to stop for a moment. The Blood Dragon listening to her? The level of disbelief Rosalie had welling up inside her right now was almost enough to rival her initial feelings of when she had first caught a glimpse of the crimson beast. It was far from it, but there seemed to be some small amount of trust that was comparable to a single grain of sand. Perhaps responding to her questions could be a mistake on Gore’s part seeing as it only gave Rosalie more of a reason to stay in his presence. He hadn’t killed her yet, but she felt that he was somewhat responsible for setting her back a few months if not years. “Then... maybe I can help you try to familiarise yourself with this day and age if you’ll travel with me?” She tried again, pulling a slightly uncertain face. Maybe it was out of line to ask that as it may just be wasting his time and hers, but she didn’t have the life span of a dragon. All the information she had managed to gather from customers who visited the store she worked at had pointed to Glenn and a few close associates of his. Had his associates died along with him?
Gore rearing his head back just screamed that whatever little ‘trust’ he might have had for her -if any at all- was shattered. In place of his head, Rosalie was now just within arm’s reach -if not slightly more- of his neck. Safe to say, she was torn between running to safer ground and pulling out the arrows that were tauntingly close. She had watched him earlier, pulling out arrows by the water, and though he no longer looked like some sort of red porcupine, there were still some projectiles left lodged in his form. What was he waiting for, to roll over and have them pierce deeper into his flesh? He was free to do so. Who was she to stop him? There was, however, a small part of her -hidden beneath that fear and uncertainty she carried- that didn’t want to see anyone suffer. She was no leader who thought she could change the course of everything just by being involved, but she wanted to convince Gore that she wasn’t out to hurt him. It was going to be no easy task considering what he had just escaped from, but what choice did she have?
Gore may kill her, but desperation overrode reason and a few seconds had her reaching out. She didn’t give him much time to ready himself, however, already taking hold of one of the arrows whilst making sure she had a firm grip with what little time she had been given. Arrows were nasty things because of the way they were designed, doing even more damage when pulled out, but she reckoned she would be able to avoid pulling it at an angle. Rosalie leaned back whilst pulling to make it quick. It wasn’t just for Gore’s sake; she didn’t want to be near him, either. The arrow came free with a squelching sound after a bit of resistance, the girl attempting to move back while keeping the arrow in plain view. If she lives a little while longer, she would dare to point it at him while tilting her head slightly as if asking him to take a look and confirm what she held in her hand. Rosalie could have done worse and taken advantage of the situation, but she needed his help even if she hadn’t openly admitted it.
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Rosalie was forced to take a few steps back to keep some distance between herself and Gore who had decided to take a closer look at whoever was intruding. She could only guess at what was going through his mind, but going by what she had seen earlier, she had a few ideas. Sizing up a dragon wasn’t the best of her ideas, Rosalie would admit that, though anyone who has ever been protective of something or someone would know they needed to act. If she didn’t do anything, she would hate to come to regret it afterwards. Speaking of regret, she was regretting this very moment.
She had to raise her arms to shield her head from the dirt and bits of rock sent flying as a result of the creature whipping his tail downwards, the girl losing balance and dropping into a crouch as the ground shook at the same time. Was this his warning to her? How subtle. She was lucky that the dragon’s roar had drowned out her yelp of shock and surprise. Rosalie, when facing something or someone, would rather come off as a person who knew what she was doing instead of someone who relied on pure luck. There was a fair bit of luck involved, but the outcome was entirely based on how she chose to act. She had not forgotten the man who had been her chance at obtaining information, and it seemed neither did Gore by the way he eyed the blade warily. It was a clear threat to him, but he was more of a threat to her considering the strength he still had if he had been willing enough to make a display by shaking up the earth she stood on.
Realising that her hands were trembling, she forced herself to breathe in slowly and deeply but it was difficult to do so when her heart was beating wildly and telling her that panicking was the only thing she was capable of doing. She had gotten herself into it, and she was going to get herself out. She needed to be sure of that and as tempting as it was to run away, she might not be presented with such an opportunity again - if people could even call it that. Rosalie would have to at least try.
Yes, she was selfish and maybe even greedy, but was it wrong to pursue her own goals? That was the reason why they were usually personal, weren’t they? The person wishing to accomplish whatever they set themselves out to do would want to gain something by the end of it. Rosalie was out here for information, but with Glenn dead, who else did she have to ask? It angered her that she had lost her chance thanks to this overgrown lizard with wings, but maybe she could come up with another way.
A few strange huffing noises coming from the dragon caused Rosalie to immediately flinch out of the fear that he was going to breathe fire over her, but that scorching heat did not come. She frowned, a little frustrated now. Was he mocking her? Acting upon rage was the last thing she wanted to do. Her father taught her that much. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
She couldn’t afford to reminisce over old times. If she was going to think about it, she was better off doing something about it. Gore just served as an unexpected obstacle; one who just turned his back on her too easily. She would have yelled to get his attention back to her, but it wasn’t needed and for a moment, her eyes followed his, landing back on the blade which she still carried. The blood it had been smeared with was finally beginning to dry, but a sword was a sword and it was not as if it had been completely broken. With quiet sigh, Rosalie dug the blade into the ground and slowly took a few steps back from it, eyes never failing to leave Gore. It was risky, but just about anything involving the dragon was. Perhaps she would have a better chance at speaking to him if she wasn’t carrying the blade. She just hoped she had made it clear enough that she had no plans for battle.
“I’m sure you’re aware that the owner of this blade is dead,” she said slowly, eyes trailing over to the arrows still embedded in Gore briefly, “and though I could attack you for taking him away, it’s not what I really want. I was hoping that maybe we could negotiate something...” Again she paused, but only to gauge Gore’s reaction. There was a chance that he might not be used to this new age, yet, and she wondered what he had been doing all this time if he had just vanished. Technology had advanced so much since the last battle against the Blood Dragon and she was sure he had had enough of the new weaponry in a span of minutes. It was difficult to watch him tend to his wounds, in all honesty, so she settled with staring at Glenn’s sword in the ground, only looking up occasionally. “You can’t exactly go back up there, now, can you...?” Her sentence was somewhere in between a statement and a question. It occurred to her, then: Did Gore understand what she was saying or was she wasting her breath? She supposed she could look for some sign, but whether Gore would be willing to cooperate was a different matter altogether. Would it have been insulting to ask that? Perhaps. “Maybe you would like help with those arrows?” Maybe that’s a better question to ask. She thought, waiting patiently.
She had to raise her arms to shield her head from the dirt and bits of rock sent flying as a result of the creature whipping his tail downwards, the girl losing balance and dropping into a crouch as the ground shook at the same time. Was this his warning to her? How subtle. She was lucky that the dragon’s roar had drowned out her yelp of shock and surprise. Rosalie, when facing something or someone, would rather come off as a person who knew what she was doing instead of someone who relied on pure luck. There was a fair bit of luck involved, but the outcome was entirely based on how she chose to act. She had not forgotten the man who had been her chance at obtaining information, and it seemed neither did Gore by the way he eyed the blade warily. It was a clear threat to him, but he was more of a threat to her considering the strength he still had if he had been willing enough to make a display by shaking up the earth she stood on.
Realising that her hands were trembling, she forced herself to breathe in slowly and deeply but it was difficult to do so when her heart was beating wildly and telling her that panicking was the only thing she was capable of doing. She had gotten herself into it, and she was going to get herself out. She needed to be sure of that and as tempting as it was to run away, she might not be presented with such an opportunity again - if people could even call it that. Rosalie would have to at least try.
Yes, she was selfish and maybe even greedy, but was it wrong to pursue her own goals? That was the reason why they were usually personal, weren’t they? The person wishing to accomplish whatever they set themselves out to do would want to gain something by the end of it. Rosalie was out here for information, but with Glenn dead, who else did she have to ask? It angered her that she had lost her chance thanks to this overgrown lizard with wings, but maybe she could come up with another way.
A few strange huffing noises coming from the dragon caused Rosalie to immediately flinch out of the fear that he was going to breathe fire over her, but that scorching heat did not come. She frowned, a little frustrated now. Was he mocking her? Acting upon rage was the last thing she wanted to do. Her father taught her that much. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
She couldn’t afford to reminisce over old times. If she was going to think about it, she was better off doing something about it. Gore just served as an unexpected obstacle; one who just turned his back on her too easily. She would have yelled to get his attention back to her, but it wasn’t needed and for a moment, her eyes followed his, landing back on the blade which she still carried. The blood it had been smeared with was finally beginning to dry, but a sword was a sword and it was not as if it had been completely broken. With quiet sigh, Rosalie dug the blade into the ground and slowly took a few steps back from it, eyes never failing to leave Gore. It was risky, but just about anything involving the dragon was. Perhaps she would have a better chance at speaking to him if she wasn’t carrying the blade. She just hoped she had made it clear enough that she had no plans for battle.
“I’m sure you’re aware that the owner of this blade is dead,” she said slowly, eyes trailing over to the arrows still embedded in Gore briefly, “and though I could attack you for taking him away, it’s not what I really want. I was hoping that maybe we could negotiate something...” Again she paused, but only to gauge Gore’s reaction. There was a chance that he might not be used to this new age, yet, and she wondered what he had been doing all this time if he had just vanished. Technology had advanced so much since the last battle against the Blood Dragon and she was sure he had had enough of the new weaponry in a span of minutes. It was difficult to watch him tend to his wounds, in all honesty, so she settled with staring at Glenn’s sword in the ground, only looking up occasionally. “You can’t exactly go back up there, now, can you...?” Her sentence was somewhere in between a statement and a question. It occurred to her, then: Did Gore understand what she was saying or was she wasting her breath? She supposed she could look for some sign, but whether Gore would be willing to cooperate was a different matter altogether. Would it have been insulting to ask that? Perhaps. “Maybe you would like help with those arrows?” Maybe that’s a better question to ask. She thought, waiting patiently.
Whether she was getting closer or further away, the only means of confirmation was from looking about her surroundings. A couple of times, Rosalie thought she saw movement flash about her, leaves rustling as whatever little animal rushed by. They seemed to be heading in the opposite direction to the one she was moving in, meaning that she must be somewhat closer than she had expected. Glenn’s blade was weighing her down more than she had thought it would and even if it was just for show, Rosalie was beginning to question whether or not the effort of taking it down with her was worth it. She could be thankful she wasn’t climbing uphill with it - that was one thing she could be grateful for.
Rosalie stopped a moment, fear creeping into her heart upon noticing a massive wall of red before her. Was it Gore? The dragon looked so out of place in such a beautiful, calm and peaceful landscape; the waterfall and running stream almost like paradise tucked away and untouched by the battle that had ensued a little further up the mountain. It would make sense to stop here for a bit as it was quite far from where the hunters had set themselves up. Still, it did not mean they would not be able to reach the area. She had made it here, after all, and did not doubt others lacked the ability, either.
Slightly out of breath, Rosalie tried to even out her breathing and took a few quick steps back, hiding behind the nearest tree. The sound of her heart was loud even in her ears, so loud that it threatened to drown out all other noises. She needed to calm down. Instead of bolting out from where she was hiding with her sword raised, the girl decided to wait for a bit, watching and cringing slightly as Gore tried to rid himself of the arrows that had embedded themselves in his body, movements pitiful and painstakingly slow. Rosalie had been following the trail of blood, but she didn’t think this much damage had been inflicted. From afar, the Blood Dragon, a name so commonly heard in tales, had been invincible but the sight in front of her spoke otherwise. Considering that the hunters’ numbers had greatly declined as a result, their efforts might not have been in vain if they were to greatly wound a legend.
It might have been the gentle ticking of the blade trying to start again in her hand that drew Gore’s attention, the dragon looking straight at her hiding place causing her to freeze and take in a quick breath as her body went cold for a split second out of fright. Had he seen her? No, perhaps not, but precautions had already been taken, and he had every right to do so. Rosalie guessed that meant Gore was still wary or at least thought she was one of the hunters come to try and exact revenge. Glenn’s weapon wasn’t helping, either, the girl tempted to place a finger to her lips and make a shushing sound at the weapon, too... Of course that was foolish. Upon looking back up, Rosalie realised she had only a few seconds to decide whether she was going to let this one chance slip away or confront the dragon directly. The time given to her wasn’t nearly enough, and she found herself acting on it before she could think.
Warily, she stepped out into the open, looking very briefly down at the bloodied arrows Gore had managed to dislodge lying over a splashes of his blood. She forced the thought of this scene being the last thing she may ever see out of her mind, took in a deep breath and called out to the dragon, voice loud and confident despite what she was thinking. “Wait! Please don’t leave just yet!” Rosalie was singing the song of her death, but seeing the arrows on the ground made her think back to the lives she had witnessed being lost and she didn’t want to see the same happen in the town she had come to call home after the last five years. It wasn’t what she was used to, but it had come to grow on her even if the behaviour of a few people were questionable.
Despite what the sword may have suggested, Rosalie wasn’t with the hunters. She had been following them, but wasn’t exactly with them. She just hoped the dragon in front of her wouldn’t prepare to roast her just yet. Even better if not at all. For now, she gripped the hilt of the blade tightly for strength. “Look,” Rosalie demanded sternly, finding herself having to raise her voice over the rush of the waterfall nearby, “whatever you plan on doing...I don’t care, but don't think about touching the town near here.” To emphasise her point, she waved Glenn’s weapon in front of her, making sure its body gleamed brightly against what light there was available on this cloudy day, “else more will come looking for you. If you really are the Gore the stories speak of, then live up to the honour some depict you to have!” Rosalie paused, fighting to keep a steady composure. She wanted to ask something more, aware that it looked like she wasn't just there to warn him. No, it would have been too 'kind' considering what she had just seen. For now, she kept careful watch, readying herself. If, by the next two minutes she was still standing, she might as well ask.
Rosalie stopped a moment, fear creeping into her heart upon noticing a massive wall of red before her. Was it Gore? The dragon looked so out of place in such a beautiful, calm and peaceful landscape; the waterfall and running stream almost like paradise tucked away and untouched by the battle that had ensued a little further up the mountain. It would make sense to stop here for a bit as it was quite far from where the hunters had set themselves up. Still, it did not mean they would not be able to reach the area. She had made it here, after all, and did not doubt others lacked the ability, either.
Slightly out of breath, Rosalie tried to even out her breathing and took a few quick steps back, hiding behind the nearest tree. The sound of her heart was loud even in her ears, so loud that it threatened to drown out all other noises. She needed to calm down. Instead of bolting out from where she was hiding with her sword raised, the girl decided to wait for a bit, watching and cringing slightly as Gore tried to rid himself of the arrows that had embedded themselves in his body, movements pitiful and painstakingly slow. Rosalie had been following the trail of blood, but she didn’t think this much damage had been inflicted. From afar, the Blood Dragon, a name so commonly heard in tales, had been invincible but the sight in front of her spoke otherwise. Considering that the hunters’ numbers had greatly declined as a result, their efforts might not have been in vain if they were to greatly wound a legend.
It might have been the gentle ticking of the blade trying to start again in her hand that drew Gore’s attention, the dragon looking straight at her hiding place causing her to freeze and take in a quick breath as her body went cold for a split second out of fright. Had he seen her? No, perhaps not, but precautions had already been taken, and he had every right to do so. Rosalie guessed that meant Gore was still wary or at least thought she was one of the hunters come to try and exact revenge. Glenn’s weapon wasn’t helping, either, the girl tempted to place a finger to her lips and make a shushing sound at the weapon, too... Of course that was foolish. Upon looking back up, Rosalie realised she had only a few seconds to decide whether she was going to let this one chance slip away or confront the dragon directly. The time given to her wasn’t nearly enough, and she found herself acting on it before she could think.
Warily, she stepped out into the open, looking very briefly down at the bloodied arrows Gore had managed to dislodge lying over a splashes of his blood. She forced the thought of this scene being the last thing she may ever see out of her mind, took in a deep breath and called out to the dragon, voice loud and confident despite what she was thinking. “Wait! Please don’t leave just yet!” Rosalie was singing the song of her death, but seeing the arrows on the ground made her think back to the lives she had witnessed being lost and she didn’t want to see the same happen in the town she had come to call home after the last five years. It wasn’t what she was used to, but it had come to grow on her even if the behaviour of a few people were questionable.
Despite what the sword may have suggested, Rosalie wasn’t with the hunters. She had been following them, but wasn’t exactly with them. She just hoped the dragon in front of her wouldn’t prepare to roast her just yet. Even better if not at all. For now, she gripped the hilt of the blade tightly for strength. “Look,” Rosalie demanded sternly, finding herself having to raise her voice over the rush of the waterfall nearby, “whatever you plan on doing...I don’t care, but don't think about touching the town near here.” To emphasise her point, she waved Glenn’s weapon in front of her, making sure its body gleamed brightly against what light there was available on this cloudy day, “else more will come looking for you. If you really are the Gore the stories speak of, then live up to the honour some depict you to have!” Rosalie paused, fighting to keep a steady composure. She wanted to ask something more, aware that it looked like she wasn't just there to warn him. No, it would have been too 'kind' considering what she had just seen. For now, she kept careful watch, readying herself. If, by the next two minutes she was still standing, she might as well ask.
Rosalie did not have to peer out from behind where she was hiding to know that the loud and repetitive sound going off was the sound of gunfire. It had rung shortly after the hunter she was with had gone off seeking a way through the barrier. Why did he have to go? Couldn’t he have stayed just a bit longer to answer her question with more than, ‘he’s our contractor,’? She rubbed her arms, shaking her head slowly as she closed her eyes, trying to force what she had seen out of her mind. The Blood Dragon was a terrifying beast, and as lucky as she was to lay eyes on such a rarity, she wished that the outcome had been different. Though the future had been foreseeable, the people here had risked so much only to fail. Rosalie felt sorry for the people who would now have the job of informing a few family members of untimely losses.
One name drifted to mind then as the dragon’s roar indicated the clear victor. It did not look too good. Rosalie needed to find Glenn quickly. She knew it was highly unlikely that she would find him, but she wanted confirmation just as much as she feared looking over the destruction. No one wanted to see anyone die and she was pretty much in the same boat, but the situation demanded that she drag herself out of her place of concealment and survey the area for that one person. Willing herself to take the first step, it was later followed by another slow step and another, gradually picking up the speed as she moved towards the still burning wall of flame with the collar of her shirt held over her mouth and nose. The smoke stung her eyes slightly, but it would not be too bad if she just got through this section. There was a small opening she spotted and started making her way to, finding that the flames that once formed a perfect wall had been partly snuffed out. Rosalie inspected it quickly, looking up to see the slowly shrinking form of the Blood Dragon. Did she really want to go after him?
Back in the opposite direction, the warriors already seemed to be counting their losses. Some lay battered and moaning on the ground with the uninjured tending to them; some only sat in place, screaming their despair for the heavens to hear and quite a few cried over the bodies of ones whom they had been in the business with for a few years if not more. Words of anger and resentment reached her ears, saying that one day, the Blood Dragon would no longer stand so high and mighty among them; it was only just a matter of time before he fell just like the others. Stepping towards onto the charred section of earth, Rosalie’s foot accidentally kicked something that coughed and spluttered with a low growl before dying once more. She recognised the blade. It was the exact one that Glenn had been holding, the body of the blade having tasted blood still fresh. Whose blood, exactly, she had a pretty good idea of. Did the finding of this blade mean her chances of finding Setton was lost to her?
“No...no, no, no.” She breathed, trembling as she knelt to pick up and inspect the blade. It was definitely the one. When approached by the woman working the ballista from earlier, Rosalie voiced the first and foremost question on her mind. The answer was not to her liking and though she would have pressed the other for answers, she could see the woman had already been through and seen enough. “You mean...?” The woman nodded grimly and explained what she had seen. I thought it had been too easy. Just once it could have gone right. Rosalie thought as she pulled down her collar for just a bit, expressing her losses when the scent of blood, death and burnt flesh hit her all in one go. It was enough to make her gag a bit and pull the material back up over her nose and mouth, tears springing to her eyes as she quickly apologised and held the blade out to the woman. If this had been her reaction to this overwhelming smell, she did not dare to look around. She would follow the dragon for a bit to be sure that he wasn’t heading toward the town nearby. A death wish, indeed, but along with fear, she was also curious.
After a while of gathering her thoughts, Rosalie stealthily made her way after the dragon at a quick pace seeing as she had lost him. There were times where she had to slow and tread carefully, but otherwise, her steps were light and quick. Judging by the amount of blood that stained the grass, the ballistae and the combined might of the warriors had really done a number on Gore. She almost felt sorry for him, but pity may very well insult the dragon who had roared so proudly after the battle.
Rosalie also did not see the point in taking Glenn’s blade with her after conversing with the engineer a fair bit. The girl had failed at finding the switch that gave life to the blade, but it was insisted that she bring it with her. What was she going to do, wave it around and hope it appeared as if she knew what she was doing? At the thought, Rosalie stared at Glenn's weapon she so firmly held in her right hand out of anxiousness. She had been holding the blade away from her body as she walked on, not too keen with having a weapon belonging to a dead man in her possession, but since blood still gleamed on its tip, it was bound to help add to the image she hoped to build in some way. Her fingers felt something that moved after applying a bit of pressure to it, but she paid it no mind, figuring that the weapon was just about ready to come apart. It made a few clicking noises, which wasn't very wise for her to continue playing with considering what she was currently doing, but the dragon was still a little ways ahead of her. It was only if she was completely sure Gore did not plan to head to Kalandor would she then leave and put the blade in a spot where she thought the hunters would easily see and retrieve. They had a lot of tidying up to do, after all. For now, she just hoped she wouldn't be spotted too quickly.
One name drifted to mind then as the dragon’s roar indicated the clear victor. It did not look too good. Rosalie needed to find Glenn quickly. She knew it was highly unlikely that she would find him, but she wanted confirmation just as much as she feared looking over the destruction. No one wanted to see anyone die and she was pretty much in the same boat, but the situation demanded that she drag herself out of her place of concealment and survey the area for that one person. Willing herself to take the first step, it was later followed by another slow step and another, gradually picking up the speed as she moved towards the still burning wall of flame with the collar of her shirt held over her mouth and nose. The smoke stung her eyes slightly, but it would not be too bad if she just got through this section. There was a small opening she spotted and started making her way to, finding that the flames that once formed a perfect wall had been partly snuffed out. Rosalie inspected it quickly, looking up to see the slowly shrinking form of the Blood Dragon. Did she really want to go after him?
Back in the opposite direction, the warriors already seemed to be counting their losses. Some lay battered and moaning on the ground with the uninjured tending to them; some only sat in place, screaming their despair for the heavens to hear and quite a few cried over the bodies of ones whom they had been in the business with for a few years if not more. Words of anger and resentment reached her ears, saying that one day, the Blood Dragon would no longer stand so high and mighty among them; it was only just a matter of time before he fell just like the others. Stepping towards onto the charred section of earth, Rosalie’s foot accidentally kicked something that coughed and spluttered with a low growl before dying once more. She recognised the blade. It was the exact one that Glenn had been holding, the body of the blade having tasted blood still fresh. Whose blood, exactly, she had a pretty good idea of. Did the finding of this blade mean her chances of finding Setton was lost to her?
“No...no, no, no.” She breathed, trembling as she knelt to pick up and inspect the blade. It was definitely the one. When approached by the woman working the ballista from earlier, Rosalie voiced the first and foremost question on her mind. The answer was not to her liking and though she would have pressed the other for answers, she could see the woman had already been through and seen enough. “You mean...?” The woman nodded grimly and explained what she had seen. I thought it had been too easy. Just once it could have gone right. Rosalie thought as she pulled down her collar for just a bit, expressing her losses when the scent of blood, death and burnt flesh hit her all in one go. It was enough to make her gag a bit and pull the material back up over her nose and mouth, tears springing to her eyes as she quickly apologised and held the blade out to the woman. If this had been her reaction to this overwhelming smell, she did not dare to look around. She would follow the dragon for a bit to be sure that he wasn’t heading toward the town nearby. A death wish, indeed, but along with fear, she was also curious.
After a while of gathering her thoughts, Rosalie stealthily made her way after the dragon at a quick pace seeing as she had lost him. There were times where she had to slow and tread carefully, but otherwise, her steps were light and quick. Judging by the amount of blood that stained the grass, the ballistae and the combined might of the warriors had really done a number on Gore. She almost felt sorry for him, but pity may very well insult the dragon who had roared so proudly after the battle.
Rosalie also did not see the point in taking Glenn’s blade with her after conversing with the engineer a fair bit. The girl had failed at finding the switch that gave life to the blade, but it was insisted that she bring it with her. What was she going to do, wave it around and hope it appeared as if she knew what she was doing? At the thought, Rosalie stared at Glenn's weapon she so firmly held in her right hand out of anxiousness. She had been holding the blade away from her body as she walked on, not too keen with having a weapon belonging to a dead man in her possession, but since blood still gleamed on its tip, it was bound to help add to the image she hoped to build in some way. Her fingers felt something that moved after applying a bit of pressure to it, but she paid it no mind, figuring that the weapon was just about ready to come apart. It made a few clicking noises, which wasn't very wise for her to continue playing with considering what she was currently doing, but the dragon was still a little ways ahead of her. It was only if she was completely sure Gore did not plan to head to Kalandor would she then leave and put the blade in a spot where she thought the hunters would easily see and retrieve. They had a lot of tidying up to do, after all. For now, she just hoped she wouldn't be spotted too quickly.
There was no room for error; time and the number of lives being lost within the span of a minute simply would not allow it . Hunters being flung left and right were testimonial to that despite doing all that was within their power and ability to stop the dragon from advancing any further. No matter what attempt, second or third, it only seemed to anger Gore more, fuelling the fire instead of extinguishing it. The Hunters’ spirits would not be dampened so easily as the sight of devastation only spurred them to try even harder as they wrestled to tame the Blood Dragon and take it in. Rosalie couldn’t bear to watch as people, just like her, were being tossed about like they were nothing more than ragdolls, so when Gore had tossed a man into the air with the intention to bat him through the sky with his tail, she had to quickly avert her eyes.
At first, Rosalie had thought they were trying to kill the beast with the relentlessness of their attacks and traps, but she later came to realise they were doing all they could to weaken it enough just so they could capture it. It looked like the damage dealt could put Gore on the verge of death if they continued this way, but who was she to say? She wasn’t one of the hunters and she clearly was no expert on how to catch a dragon - especially one so rare, so to her, it might have looked like it was overkill. She had taken an interest in dragons, but not so much as to brush up on her knowledge beforehand. She had been given a limited amount of time to work with, after all, as it was only recently - if not a few days ago - had she heard whispers of a dragon with scales as red as blood being spotted by pure luck, apparently.
Sigmund and Eric, the two sons of the blacksmith she had been staying with were the first two she knew personally interested in the legend. They had talked Rosalie into trying to find this dragon if she really planned to leave what had been her home for almost five years now. The task sounded ridiculous and if it had not been for her knowing they were non-drinkers, she would have deemed alcoholic intoxication to be the reason behind their suggestion. Rosalie was wrong. Terribly wrong.
While the sky held a battle of its own with Gore trying to avoid the projectiles, down below was another fight entirely as the ones who were lucky to be spared of the dragon’s wrath the first time around either tried to regain their composure and momentum or tried to flee. Those who held their ground were stubborn - determined, even, to reel in the prize. Those who fled...would be lucky to live another day. Rosalie’s mind at the moment was too slow to keep up with what was happening even as the impact of the dragon hitting the ground shook the ground. She just never thought she would get the chance to see a red dragon at her age or even in this lifetime. Glenn had seen the danger and though Rosalie knew he had meant well, she was tempted to pull him along with her so she could get him to answer her questions.
She clawed out with the intention of grabbing the man by the sleeve of his shirt sticking out beneath a bit of armour, but missed entirely. “Wait! Where is Setton??” Her scream went unheeded as by the time the man had gone off to face the dragon with a blade that seemed to roar with a life of its own, she was already being dragged halfway across the field by the mercenary tasked with her safety. It was just in time, too, to avoid the ring of flames that now formed a barrier around the weapons. Very quickly, the flames began to spread, black pillars of smoke billowing into the air almost like smoke from a chimney.
From where Rosalie had made it to, she was no longer able to see clearly into the battlegrounds she had once been standing on. She had not even gone that far, just far enough to avoid getting caught in the flames. She owed much to the mercenary who had taken the shortest and easiest route for her to follow, but she worried over Glenn even though she had not spoken with him long enough. He knew something about the man she was searching for and now, that knowledge was locked behind flaming walls. Just the thought of it was almost enough to make her run back in and see if Glenn was still alive. It was foolish of him to try running towards the dragon without the thought for his own safety. He was as good as dead. Anyone with the right mind could tell who the clear victor would be - who would emerge from the flames. Not to mention, there was the sheer difference in size.
The hunter Rosalie was with ordered her to head back to town, the look in his eyes hinting that he planned to go back and see what it was he was able to do. She pulled on his arm, leaning back with all her weight to stop him. “What does Glenn know about Setton? Please. I have to know.”
“Setton? As Glenn had said; he’s our contractor.”
“No. Where is he?” She tried again, voice low over the crackling of flames. Rosalie was hardly playing around and she was so sure her usually calm composure had broken into desperation.
“What connection do you have with him? I don’t have time to hold your hand. Keep following this path south and you should be safe.” How cruel that he did not answer her. This one planned to jump through the flames and back into the fray? If he was staying, she would have to find a way around the flames. Slowly, Rosalie nodded, moving down a little ways down the path before hiding behind one of the trees. She would wait a safe distance away for now.
~~
Glenn groaned in pain, the beating he had taken rendering his body almost useless. Almost. His vision was starting to blur and as Gore pressed down against him, he could feel his usually sturdy armour start to cave in. In his fight to stay conscious, he tried looking around, looking anywhere but at the dragon looming over him. Those under his command, upon seeing the position he was in, were starting to actively seek a way in which they could either lure the scaled creature away from its ragdoll at the moment, or force it back with fire. Glenn’s life was beginning to slip away. It pained him to even breathe, but even in what may be his last moments, he refused to give up. Don’t think that he did not see Gore leaning in so closely and do not think that he could not feel the heat of the dragon’s breath being so close.
Something shimmered lightly out of the corner of his eye though it was not too clear. One of the ballistae was still standing, it seemed, and the engineer, nothing more than a figure that shifted in and out of focus, was hiding behind it, working frantically now to aim it at Gore manually. What...what are you waiting for?! Mentally shouting was all he could do, but as with before, the ballista had a startup time that still needed to be improved in one way or another. Now, he could only hope against hope that he would live to see those improvements.
Coughing, Glenn spat out a bit of his life, crimson just like the dragon before him. Even after all he had been through, the man still had a firm hold over his blade, the weapon still running though stalled quite a few times. It was a bit like him, actually. Hazel eyes barely managing to focus on Gore’s snout, he laughed, though it came out as more of a painful wheeze. “W-what’s that? Y-you...ugh... Gore.. Ironic, isn’t it...th-that we’ve...managed to spill your blood..as well.” He was buying time, trying to keep the dragon’s attention on him. There was no way that Gore would intentionally leave one ballista standing when he had taken care of the rest. It was a rather feeble attempt on Glenn’s part, but with Gore being so focused on him, it was a good opportunity.
Glenn was unsure when the remaining ballista would be ready, but after a while, the familiar humming of the machine informed all. Weakly, he shifted an armoured hand and gestured for the engineer to fire, and she did. It would be an unforgiving blow should it hit at this range, but unfortunately, everything became dark before the man could see the outcome.
At first, Rosalie had thought they were trying to kill the beast with the relentlessness of their attacks and traps, but she later came to realise they were doing all they could to weaken it enough just so they could capture it. It looked like the damage dealt could put Gore on the verge of death if they continued this way, but who was she to say? She wasn’t one of the hunters and she clearly was no expert on how to catch a dragon - especially one so rare, so to her, it might have looked like it was overkill. She had taken an interest in dragons, but not so much as to brush up on her knowledge beforehand. She had been given a limited amount of time to work with, after all, as it was only recently - if not a few days ago - had she heard whispers of a dragon with scales as red as blood being spotted by pure luck, apparently.
Sigmund and Eric, the two sons of the blacksmith she had been staying with were the first two she knew personally interested in the legend. They had talked Rosalie into trying to find this dragon if she really planned to leave what had been her home for almost five years now. The task sounded ridiculous and if it had not been for her knowing they were non-drinkers, she would have deemed alcoholic intoxication to be the reason behind their suggestion. Rosalie was wrong. Terribly wrong.
While the sky held a battle of its own with Gore trying to avoid the projectiles, down below was another fight entirely as the ones who were lucky to be spared of the dragon’s wrath the first time around either tried to regain their composure and momentum or tried to flee. Those who held their ground were stubborn - determined, even, to reel in the prize. Those who fled...would be lucky to live another day. Rosalie’s mind at the moment was too slow to keep up with what was happening even as the impact of the dragon hitting the ground shook the ground. She just never thought she would get the chance to see a red dragon at her age or even in this lifetime. Glenn had seen the danger and though Rosalie knew he had meant well, she was tempted to pull him along with her so she could get him to answer her questions.
She clawed out with the intention of grabbing the man by the sleeve of his shirt sticking out beneath a bit of armour, but missed entirely. “Wait! Where is Setton??” Her scream went unheeded as by the time the man had gone off to face the dragon with a blade that seemed to roar with a life of its own, she was already being dragged halfway across the field by the mercenary tasked with her safety. It was just in time, too, to avoid the ring of flames that now formed a barrier around the weapons. Very quickly, the flames began to spread, black pillars of smoke billowing into the air almost like smoke from a chimney.
From where Rosalie had made it to, she was no longer able to see clearly into the battlegrounds she had once been standing on. She had not even gone that far, just far enough to avoid getting caught in the flames. She owed much to the mercenary who had taken the shortest and easiest route for her to follow, but she worried over Glenn even though she had not spoken with him long enough. He knew something about the man she was searching for and now, that knowledge was locked behind flaming walls. Just the thought of it was almost enough to make her run back in and see if Glenn was still alive. It was foolish of him to try running towards the dragon without the thought for his own safety. He was as good as dead. Anyone with the right mind could tell who the clear victor would be - who would emerge from the flames. Not to mention, there was the sheer difference in size.
The hunter Rosalie was with ordered her to head back to town, the look in his eyes hinting that he planned to go back and see what it was he was able to do. She pulled on his arm, leaning back with all her weight to stop him. “What does Glenn know about Setton? Please. I have to know.”
“Setton? As Glenn had said; he’s our contractor.”
“No. Where is he?” She tried again, voice low over the crackling of flames. Rosalie was hardly playing around and she was so sure her usually calm composure had broken into desperation.
“What connection do you have with him? I don’t have time to hold your hand. Keep following this path south and you should be safe.” How cruel that he did not answer her. This one planned to jump through the flames and back into the fray? If he was staying, she would have to find a way around the flames. Slowly, Rosalie nodded, moving down a little ways down the path before hiding behind one of the trees. She would wait a safe distance away for now.
~~
Glenn groaned in pain, the beating he had taken rendering his body almost useless. Almost. His vision was starting to blur and as Gore pressed down against him, he could feel his usually sturdy armour start to cave in. In his fight to stay conscious, he tried looking around, looking anywhere but at the dragon looming over him. Those under his command, upon seeing the position he was in, were starting to actively seek a way in which they could either lure the scaled creature away from its ragdoll at the moment, or force it back with fire. Glenn’s life was beginning to slip away. It pained him to even breathe, but even in what may be his last moments, he refused to give up. Don’t think that he did not see Gore leaning in so closely and do not think that he could not feel the heat of the dragon’s breath being so close.
Something shimmered lightly out of the corner of his eye though it was not too clear. One of the ballistae was still standing, it seemed, and the engineer, nothing more than a figure that shifted in and out of focus, was hiding behind it, working frantically now to aim it at Gore manually. What...what are you waiting for?! Mentally shouting was all he could do, but as with before, the ballista had a startup time that still needed to be improved in one way or another. Now, he could only hope against hope that he would live to see those improvements.
Coughing, Glenn spat out a bit of his life, crimson just like the dragon before him. Even after all he had been through, the man still had a firm hold over his blade, the weapon still running though stalled quite a few times. It was a bit like him, actually. Hazel eyes barely managing to focus on Gore’s snout, he laughed, though it came out as more of a painful wheeze. “W-what’s that? Y-you...ugh... Gore.. Ironic, isn’t it...th-that we’ve...managed to spill your blood..as well.” He was buying time, trying to keep the dragon’s attention on him. There was no way that Gore would intentionally leave one ballista standing when he had taken care of the rest. It was a rather feeble attempt on Glenn’s part, but with Gore being so focused on him, it was a good opportunity.
Glenn was unsure when the remaining ballista would be ready, but after a while, the familiar humming of the machine informed all. Weakly, he shifted an armoured hand and gestured for the engineer to fire, and she did. It would be an unforgiving blow should it hit at this range, but unfortunately, everything became dark before the man could see the outcome.
What's the point if you're not going to feel guilty? There's no fun in that xD I'll say it again; I loved your post!
Anyway, when I have the mind to do so, it looks like I'll be updating the first post here for info on towns and the like.
Anyway, when I have the mind to do so, it looks like I'll be updating the first post here for info on towns and the like.
Blindly feeling about for a handhold, Rosalie pursed her lips in quiet determination to find something that would hold long enough for her to pull herself up with without pulling bits of dirt and rock down over her head. Already, she could tell she was going to have fun picking rocks out of her clothing by the end of this, yet, so that it was not all for naught, she would get what information she desired from the hunters without their knowing. The young woman had managed to skirt around some individuals in the last few minutes since setting off, finding that the further she headed in this direction, the more hunters and mercenaries there were. She found what she was looking for after a few seconds of testing stability and hoisted herself up, grunting quietly in exertion as she kicked off of the stone she had been standing on to reach this height. It was from this vantage point was she able to get a better picture of what was happening around her.
Evenly distanced from the last by a few metres were four canon-like mechanisms that replicated weapons of old. Where old ballistas were made from wood, these were made solely from steel, the reinforced framing for each one making sure that it would withstand a few hits, at least, before coming apart. There were also a few other improvements such as a small screen on each which, Rosalie believed, gave whoever operated the machine a better aim over distant targets. She also noticed there was only one engineer walking between the large weapons, performing maintenance on all four in these crucial moments with something clasped in her hand. Wouldn’t that have meant reloading time would take twice as long with only one person in charge of the weapons?
Apart from the main weapons located here, there were also few archers and gunmen in view, either focused on cleaning their weaponry or too nervous to do much of anything save for surveying the area, the anxiety on their faces as clear as day. Some sort of event was destined to take place here and everyone present just seemed to be blessed with that knowledge - everyone but her. Whatever they were preparing for, they were ready. In her moment of distraction, she failed to notice movement coming from her left.
“Well what do you know! You were right, Glenn!” The girl cursed at how close the voice had sounded, about to drop back down again when an arm shot out and caught her by the wrist. She hissed in frustration as she was easily pulled back up, struggling in hopes that he might ease his hold, but that was a bad idea and he only squeezed tighter. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction by kicking and screaming her resistance, so she gritted her teeth with a quiet growl. He wasn’t that much taller than her and Rosalie bet that if she had decided to put some effort into it as she was being led forward -and she could have done so anytime- she could have stood on the tips of her toes to discreetly get back at him for handling her in this manner. She doubted he would notice if she did, though. Upon stepping into the preparation grounds, she could almost immediately feel the weight of the leader’s gaze on her, watching her warily with what was akin to dawning realisation.
Rosalie mentally reminded herself to keep focused even as she was pushed forward, knees stinging in kind reminder of the badges she had gained for her efforts. Each unit of hunters visible to her had their own leader; mini squads that though lacking in power, made up for in numbers. The person Rosalie was just pushed in front of seemed to be one with some authority within the operation and though she could have chosen a better direction to look, she gazed directly at him instead, still trying to figure out where she had seen his face. With hazel eyes, dark brown, straggly hair, a bit of stubble and a scar that ran down the right corner of his mouth to his angular jawline, it only made her stare even more despite it being rude. It was like she was trying to make out little details in a blurry photo.
“I had a feeling we were being followed.” He spoke slowly as he took his time approaching her. In one hand, he casually played with a pocket knife, twirling it about every few steps he took. Each time he did this, it would catch in the light and gleam mockingly, highly unlike the bored expression its owner wore. Despite the non-threatening manner of his approach, it still got Rosalie to try and take a few steps back as if only to delay him from reaching her. Glenn. A familiar name for a familiar face.
“Should we tie her up?” Her captor asked.
“No... Release her. Young lady, it’s rude to stare; people might get the wrong impression.” He stroked his chin in thought as he leaned in closer, eyes flickering over her, taking in small details through quick glances. His face was unreadable unlike his inquisitive eyes, giving no room for concern or sure signs of anger. And he said she was being rude. “Now...where have I seen your face before? It might have been back in the last town... but why do I get the feeling that I’ve also seen you years before that, hmm?” His tone was one that he would use with a child; slow, ponderous and also patient. Was he mocking her? Like trying to read his expression, she couldn’t tell.
“Couldn’t I say the same for you?” She questioned him in return, rubbing her wrists slowly where a red impression of her captive’s hands was beginning to form. Rosalie’s words hung in the air between them for a moment, the delay in his reply making her squirm uncomfortably. What’s he thinking about? With my hands free and him being so close, I could probably draw one of my daggers but then what? I’m on my own. Is he going to kill me now? Please, just answer me quickly so I stop-
“Could you? This is going to be rather troublesome,” he finally said with a sigh, leaning back, “our contractor won’t be too impressed to hear an innocent person was involved. This was supposed to remain a private attempt. Setton won’t be pleased at all. In fact, he’d be quite...” Whatever Glenn had said next was lost to her.
That name. Rosalie had never thought she would ever hear that name mentioned by someone else again. Could it really have been him, though? After all these years of being left in the dark, hearing his name was like finding light at the end of the tunnel. Her breath left her in the second it took for her to understand what she had just heard. Why was she not told of his location? Did the man who was speaking now know more than she did? Glenn. He was always being summoned by Setton for odd jobs around the city. Sometimes it involved ensuring safe delivery of a message, and sometimes, it involved escorting an important guest, but was today any different? She had to know.
“Hey, Glenn..” Her voice died, though, when a bestial roar loud enough to rival thunder rumbled through the sky, commanding the attention of all despite whatever task they were bent on completing. Rosalie ducked, kneeling on the ground out of instinct as both hands went to cover her ears. What was happening? That sound had been loud enough to rattle her confidence and the confidence of others, but also the earth. Almost as if they were one being, the people gathered looked up at the snowy mountain cap just in time to see flame project out of the side of the mountain and later, a massive, red body make a descent in the perfect position for them to fire their weapons. Rosalie was completely awestruck.
It hadn’t seemed to notice them all, yet, but they had all made note of its presence immediately. With the order to fire their main weapons coming from Glenn, the engineer pushed a few buttons on the remote she held in her hands and as one, the four machines came to life, mechanically humming in unison.
Now that the time had finally come to put themselves to use, some hunters fumbled with their weapons, unable to hold their arrows still enough to get a decent aim. It only took one person to panic and have it spread through those gathered like ripples over the water’s surface and it clearly was bad for morale. While some archers struggled, there were a few who were successful in firing their projectiles upwards in the correct direction, creating a rain of arrows to fall and strike down as their first line of defence while they waited for the larger machines to warm up. Whether or not the arrows struck their target or fell too short was another story. Those who held guns simply waited for a better opportunity to fire, staying back behind the archers with grim determination. Around her, men and women were screaming the word, ‘gore’ over and over again in warning and what seemed to be excitement. Of course it was going to be bad if that thing got anywhere near them!
“Damn it, we’ve lost Rochford. Don’t let Gore get away! Are the main weapons ready to fire yet?!” Glenn shouted over the many voices. He had also kindly strung together a string of words too colourful for Rosalie to repeat. “I’ve come too far to let this prize get away. Not now. Not when we’re so close!” How anyone could hear his orders now, she did not know; she could barely hear herself think over this much noise.
It was making sense now, Rosalie thought, scrambling to her feet. ‘Gore’, was the name used to refer to this dragon. It was the Blood Dragon, the exact one that might be able to help her reunite with the person she had wanted to see for years. Her heart had begun to race at the revelation and the danger they were all in and her previous thoughts could wait. For all she knew, Gore was just going to bulldoze a path straight through them. She had to get out of the way, but outrunning it didn’t look to be one of the options she had right now.
Evenly distanced from the last by a few metres were four canon-like mechanisms that replicated weapons of old. Where old ballistas were made from wood, these were made solely from steel, the reinforced framing for each one making sure that it would withstand a few hits, at least, before coming apart. There were also a few other improvements such as a small screen on each which, Rosalie believed, gave whoever operated the machine a better aim over distant targets. She also noticed there was only one engineer walking between the large weapons, performing maintenance on all four in these crucial moments with something clasped in her hand. Wouldn’t that have meant reloading time would take twice as long with only one person in charge of the weapons?
Apart from the main weapons located here, there were also few archers and gunmen in view, either focused on cleaning their weaponry or too nervous to do much of anything save for surveying the area, the anxiety on their faces as clear as day. Some sort of event was destined to take place here and everyone present just seemed to be blessed with that knowledge - everyone but her. Whatever they were preparing for, they were ready. In her moment of distraction, she failed to notice movement coming from her left.
“Well what do you know! You were right, Glenn!” The girl cursed at how close the voice had sounded, about to drop back down again when an arm shot out and caught her by the wrist. She hissed in frustration as she was easily pulled back up, struggling in hopes that he might ease his hold, but that was a bad idea and he only squeezed tighter. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction by kicking and screaming her resistance, so she gritted her teeth with a quiet growl. He wasn’t that much taller than her and Rosalie bet that if she had decided to put some effort into it as she was being led forward -and she could have done so anytime- she could have stood on the tips of her toes to discreetly get back at him for handling her in this manner. She doubted he would notice if she did, though. Upon stepping into the preparation grounds, she could almost immediately feel the weight of the leader’s gaze on her, watching her warily with what was akin to dawning realisation.
Rosalie mentally reminded herself to keep focused even as she was pushed forward, knees stinging in kind reminder of the badges she had gained for her efforts. Each unit of hunters visible to her had their own leader; mini squads that though lacking in power, made up for in numbers. The person Rosalie was just pushed in front of seemed to be one with some authority within the operation and though she could have chosen a better direction to look, she gazed directly at him instead, still trying to figure out where she had seen his face. With hazel eyes, dark brown, straggly hair, a bit of stubble and a scar that ran down the right corner of his mouth to his angular jawline, it only made her stare even more despite it being rude. It was like she was trying to make out little details in a blurry photo.
“I had a feeling we were being followed.” He spoke slowly as he took his time approaching her. In one hand, he casually played with a pocket knife, twirling it about every few steps he took. Each time he did this, it would catch in the light and gleam mockingly, highly unlike the bored expression its owner wore. Despite the non-threatening manner of his approach, it still got Rosalie to try and take a few steps back as if only to delay him from reaching her. Glenn. A familiar name for a familiar face.
“Should we tie her up?” Her captor asked.
“No... Release her. Young lady, it’s rude to stare; people might get the wrong impression.” He stroked his chin in thought as he leaned in closer, eyes flickering over her, taking in small details through quick glances. His face was unreadable unlike his inquisitive eyes, giving no room for concern or sure signs of anger. And he said she was being rude. “Now...where have I seen your face before? It might have been back in the last town... but why do I get the feeling that I’ve also seen you years before that, hmm?” His tone was one that he would use with a child; slow, ponderous and also patient. Was he mocking her? Like trying to read his expression, she couldn’t tell.
“Couldn’t I say the same for you?” She questioned him in return, rubbing her wrists slowly where a red impression of her captive’s hands was beginning to form. Rosalie’s words hung in the air between them for a moment, the delay in his reply making her squirm uncomfortably. What’s he thinking about? With my hands free and him being so close, I could probably draw one of my daggers but then what? I’m on my own. Is he going to kill me now? Please, just answer me quickly so I stop-
“Could you? This is going to be rather troublesome,” he finally said with a sigh, leaning back, “our contractor won’t be too impressed to hear an innocent person was involved. This was supposed to remain a private attempt. Setton won’t be pleased at all. In fact, he’d be quite...” Whatever Glenn had said next was lost to her.
That name. Rosalie had never thought she would ever hear that name mentioned by someone else again. Could it really have been him, though? After all these years of being left in the dark, hearing his name was like finding light at the end of the tunnel. Her breath left her in the second it took for her to understand what she had just heard. Why was she not told of his location? Did the man who was speaking now know more than she did? Glenn. He was always being summoned by Setton for odd jobs around the city. Sometimes it involved ensuring safe delivery of a message, and sometimes, it involved escorting an important guest, but was today any different? She had to know.
“Hey, Glenn..” Her voice died, though, when a bestial roar loud enough to rival thunder rumbled through the sky, commanding the attention of all despite whatever task they were bent on completing. Rosalie ducked, kneeling on the ground out of instinct as both hands went to cover her ears. What was happening? That sound had been loud enough to rattle her confidence and the confidence of others, but also the earth. Almost as if they were one being, the people gathered looked up at the snowy mountain cap just in time to see flame project out of the side of the mountain and later, a massive, red body make a descent in the perfect position for them to fire their weapons. Rosalie was completely awestruck.
It hadn’t seemed to notice them all, yet, but they had all made note of its presence immediately. With the order to fire their main weapons coming from Glenn, the engineer pushed a few buttons on the remote she held in her hands and as one, the four machines came to life, mechanically humming in unison.
Now that the time had finally come to put themselves to use, some hunters fumbled with their weapons, unable to hold their arrows still enough to get a decent aim. It only took one person to panic and have it spread through those gathered like ripples over the water’s surface and it clearly was bad for morale. While some archers struggled, there were a few who were successful in firing their projectiles upwards in the correct direction, creating a rain of arrows to fall and strike down as their first line of defence while they waited for the larger machines to warm up. Whether or not the arrows struck their target or fell too short was another story. Those who held guns simply waited for a better opportunity to fire, staying back behind the archers with grim determination. Around her, men and women were screaming the word, ‘gore’ over and over again in warning and what seemed to be excitement. Of course it was going to be bad if that thing got anywhere near them!
“Damn it, we’ve lost Rochford. Don’t let Gore get away! Are the main weapons ready to fire yet?!” Glenn shouted over the many voices. He had also kindly strung together a string of words too colourful for Rosalie to repeat. “I’ve come too far to let this prize get away. Not now. Not when we’re so close!” How anyone could hear his orders now, she did not know; she could barely hear herself think over this much noise.
It was making sense now, Rosalie thought, scrambling to her feet. ‘Gore’, was the name used to refer to this dragon. It was the Blood Dragon, the exact one that might be able to help her reunite with the person she had wanted to see for years. Her heart had begun to race at the revelation and the danger they were all in and her previous thoughts could wait. For all she knew, Gore was just going to bulldoze a path straight through them. She had to get out of the way, but outrunning it didn’t look to be one of the options she had right now.
There was no denying it now: the hunters’ trail she had been following had finally grown cold. The mountain slope with its footholds that more often than not gave way under her weight was starting to become more of an obstacle than it should be. The young woman was unused to this type of terrain and because of that, progress was painfully slow, but, with time, her pace gradually began to pick up. It was still not enough, however, as even the slowest of her targets had managed to slip out of sight. Pulling her travelling cloak closer around her body, Rosalie decided to stop and rest for a while behind a collection of large, jagged rocks as she set her grey backpack on the ground and pulled out a few of her precious maps.
Though the maps portrayed the same, one area, it was becoming more of a pain to decipher them. It was not that she lacked the knowledge of how to read a map, but because none of the pages accurately showed where landmarks, towns and cities were. Rosalie believed she would be fine and even if she was not yet familiar with these grounds, she didn’t need anyone to tell her that the higher she went, the colder it would become. That was a given.
Looking back over how far she had gotten, Rosalie was just able to see the buildings that made up Kalandor, her starting point, and just hoped the group of mercenaries found what they were looking for so she wouldn’t have to go any higher. If anything, she would probably have to turn back. She knew her limits, and she felt as if she were pushing them just by deciding to take on the task of following the men and women through such uneven ground on her own. Grazing her knees and elbows just reaching this point was nothing compared to the fall that awaited her should she slip near the edge. Reason told Rosalie she should have brought someone along with her from the very start, but then she would lose all thrill of sneaking around on her own.
This mountain -Rosalie was currently making the effort to trek up- was famous for its tales that prevented children from going anywhere near its base, said to be home to angry spirits and the like, but curiosity was a powerful thing indeed. She was also a bit unnerved, but so far, no real danger had presented itself to her. Besides, the very people she was following hadn’t complained about the stories, at all, so it must be safe...at least.
To be completely sure it was safe, her light brown eyes would flutter up from her maps for a moment, checking her surroundings for a few long seconds before dropping again. By repeating this motion every few minutes, Rosalie could be sure that she did not miss anything that would seek her out as easy prey. It was difficult, she realised, to relax in such a rough environment - even more so when she was venturing through unfamiliar grounds. She didn’t see herself as completely alone, though, as there were some strangely familiar people here but the problem lied in keeping them in her line of sight. I’m sure I’ve seen them before...but where? She thought with a growing frown, peeking over her hiding spot very briefly like a mouse would as it prepared to make a daring dash from the safety of its home.
There was nothing but the occasional howling of winds to keep her company and frowning clouds to pin her down for the time being. Sometimes, if she was lucky, it would carry voices of hunters hidden somewhere out of sight to her, indicating that the direction she was heading in certainly was the right one. Would she have thought differently if it were quiet and not a sound was uttered? Perhaps, but times like that rarely ever reared its head at her. She doubted playing hide and seek as a child and getting herself locked in one of the cupboards -as realisation dawned on her- counted as one of these moments, either. It did teach her a lesson, though, and that was to be careful and prepared.
Rosalie Sylvazard was armed with two daggers strapped to her waist, both very well concealed beneath the folds of her clothes but were set in a position that they would easily be drawn. No matter how rarely she drew the second blade, it would serve as a nasty surprise for anyone thinking she was foolish enough to arm herself with only one weapon. She loved surprises, but only in moderation when the time was right; it just made life all the more interesting and worth living to her. Take today, for instance: it was a surprise in itself that irritated her, but at least it was not the norm.
It truly was fortunate that she had a vague idea of the general direction she should be heading in. If not for that, Rosalie would have given up the very second she found out about the maps and swore that if they were people, she would have more than just a headache at the moment; she would have a breakdown.
“No...this is North from here...not North-East...” She mumbled, scribbling over her location whilst heaving a sigh. It was far too late to get her money back for these and she might as well throw them out the first chance she got. The young woman almost rolled her eyes at her luck, leaning most of her weight back against one of the rocks like it would alleviate her growing frustration. Perhaps Fate favoured the hunters more than it favoured her.
The group of said hunters she was currently tracking had waltzed into her humble little town of Kalandor fully armed and had been talking excitedly amongst themselves. If that had not been enough to draw attention, the large group had also been spending coin like it had been grown on trees, speaking of the riches they would make once they had completed the hunt for the famed Blood Dragon. Rosalie was not entirely sure over whether the dragon was female or male, but it was a dragon who has managed to evade humans taking it in for slavery for many years. Until she found out its identity, she would keep referring to this particular one as ‘it’.
Though said to be the most vicious, there had not been enough reports to make the presence of this particular beast official after it had just suddenly vanished. People claim to have seen it while some dismiss it as nothing but a character in a story someone made up for instant fame. If she were asked, Rosalie would probably agree with the latter. If this winged lizard had been spotted, wouldn’t it have razed cities to the ground by now - just as the books had depicted?
Not many saw Dragons as intelligent creatures but parts of their bodies such as their scales, claws, fangs and even hearts had value amongst practitioners of magic -as rare as they were. Rosalie did not immerse herself in the arts, though. What she planned to do while participating in the hunt was to try her best at obtaining proof of the Blood Dragon still being around. Whatever she could scavenge, really. A lot of people would pay for such evidence, even if it was just a scale. Again, that would be verging on the impossible, but since she was already making steady progress, she might as well.
Chasing this myth was a lost cause, but it was worth a try despite the conditions being terrible and harsh out here. For now, the young woman would take the hunters’ excitement as a sign. Hefting her grey backpack over her shoulders after storing her maps, Rosalie started off once more, hoping that if she continued going straight ahead, she would find one of those familiar faces.
Though the maps portrayed the same, one area, it was becoming more of a pain to decipher them. It was not that she lacked the knowledge of how to read a map, but because none of the pages accurately showed where landmarks, towns and cities were. Rosalie believed she would be fine and even if she was not yet familiar with these grounds, she didn’t need anyone to tell her that the higher she went, the colder it would become. That was a given.
Looking back over how far she had gotten, Rosalie was just able to see the buildings that made up Kalandor, her starting point, and just hoped the group of mercenaries found what they were looking for so she wouldn’t have to go any higher. If anything, she would probably have to turn back. She knew her limits, and she felt as if she were pushing them just by deciding to take on the task of following the men and women through such uneven ground on her own. Grazing her knees and elbows just reaching this point was nothing compared to the fall that awaited her should she slip near the edge. Reason told Rosalie she should have brought someone along with her from the very start, but then she would lose all thrill of sneaking around on her own.
This mountain -Rosalie was currently making the effort to trek up- was famous for its tales that prevented children from going anywhere near its base, said to be home to angry spirits and the like, but curiosity was a powerful thing indeed. She was also a bit unnerved, but so far, no real danger had presented itself to her. Besides, the very people she was following hadn’t complained about the stories, at all, so it must be safe...at least.
To be completely sure it was safe, her light brown eyes would flutter up from her maps for a moment, checking her surroundings for a few long seconds before dropping again. By repeating this motion every few minutes, Rosalie could be sure that she did not miss anything that would seek her out as easy prey. It was difficult, she realised, to relax in such a rough environment - even more so when she was venturing through unfamiliar grounds. She didn’t see herself as completely alone, though, as there were some strangely familiar people here but the problem lied in keeping them in her line of sight. I’m sure I’ve seen them before...but where? She thought with a growing frown, peeking over her hiding spot very briefly like a mouse would as it prepared to make a daring dash from the safety of its home.
There was nothing but the occasional howling of winds to keep her company and frowning clouds to pin her down for the time being. Sometimes, if she was lucky, it would carry voices of hunters hidden somewhere out of sight to her, indicating that the direction she was heading in certainly was the right one. Would she have thought differently if it were quiet and not a sound was uttered? Perhaps, but times like that rarely ever reared its head at her. She doubted playing hide and seek as a child and getting herself locked in one of the cupboards -as realisation dawned on her- counted as one of these moments, either. It did teach her a lesson, though, and that was to be careful and prepared.
Rosalie Sylvazard was armed with two daggers strapped to her waist, both very well concealed beneath the folds of her clothes but were set in a position that they would easily be drawn. No matter how rarely she drew the second blade, it would serve as a nasty surprise for anyone thinking she was foolish enough to arm herself with only one weapon. She loved surprises, but only in moderation when the time was right; it just made life all the more interesting and worth living to her. Take today, for instance: it was a surprise in itself that irritated her, but at least it was not the norm.
It truly was fortunate that she had a vague idea of the general direction she should be heading in. If not for that, Rosalie would have given up the very second she found out about the maps and swore that if they were people, she would have more than just a headache at the moment; she would have a breakdown.
“No...this is North from here...not North-East...” She mumbled, scribbling over her location whilst heaving a sigh. It was far too late to get her money back for these and she might as well throw them out the first chance she got. The young woman almost rolled her eyes at her luck, leaning most of her weight back against one of the rocks like it would alleviate her growing frustration. Perhaps Fate favoured the hunters more than it favoured her.
The group of said hunters she was currently tracking had waltzed into her humble little town of Kalandor fully armed and had been talking excitedly amongst themselves. If that had not been enough to draw attention, the large group had also been spending coin like it had been grown on trees, speaking of the riches they would make once they had completed the hunt for the famed Blood Dragon. Rosalie was not entirely sure over whether the dragon was female or male, but it was a dragon who has managed to evade humans taking it in for slavery for many years. Until she found out its identity, she would keep referring to this particular one as ‘it’.
Though said to be the most vicious, there had not been enough reports to make the presence of this particular beast official after it had just suddenly vanished. People claim to have seen it while some dismiss it as nothing but a character in a story someone made up for instant fame. If she were asked, Rosalie would probably agree with the latter. If this winged lizard had been spotted, wouldn’t it have razed cities to the ground by now - just as the books had depicted?
Not many saw Dragons as intelligent creatures but parts of their bodies such as their scales, claws, fangs and even hearts had value amongst practitioners of magic -as rare as they were. Rosalie did not immerse herself in the arts, though. What she planned to do while participating in the hunt was to try her best at obtaining proof of the Blood Dragon still being around. Whatever she could scavenge, really. A lot of people would pay for such evidence, even if it was just a scale. Again, that would be verging on the impossible, but since she was already making steady progress, she might as well.
Chasing this myth was a lost cause, but it was worth a try despite the conditions being terrible and harsh out here. For now, the young woman would take the hunters’ excitement as a sign. Hefting her grey backpack over her shoulders after storing her maps, Rosalie started off once more, hoping that if she continued going straight ahead, she would find one of those familiar faces.
Whoo! Finally mustered up the courage to get this thread up! I blame...you, Arclite ;P
Edit: Added small descriptions about characters, cities and towns to help us keep track of things =) I know I said I would edit it sooner, but never got around to it. That was 9 months ago... >.<; So sorry!
Edit: Added small descriptions about characters, cities and towns to help us keep track of things =) I know I said I would edit it sooner, but never got around to it. That was 9 months ago... >.<; So sorry!
That's good to hear xD I also think 'bored' should be mentioned twice. I'm bored, but other than that I've been fine.
Hmm..I'd like to test out the PMs. Expect one your way :)
Hmm..I'd like to test out the PMs. Expect one your way :)
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