Huntress

[Donovan]

Brand wobbled unsteadily on his feet, gripping the sword in his hand as he watched Draal escape, and Aeron in hot persuit. He stood there for several moments longer before knees gave in, and to the ground he crumbled. The amount of blood he'd lost was incredible... and how he'd kept conscious this long quite the mystery. He blinked several times beneath that pool of crimson, gaze blurring as it raised back to the pathway ahead of him.

Failure was not an option.

Failure was a word he did not comprehend.

"Draal...", the Rogue clawed at the dirt in front of him, pulling himself to his feet. Eyes were narrowed and focused on only moving forward. Blood stained the trail behind him, leaving puddles of crimson in his wake. By now his face, arms... and chest were a darkened shade of red. The Rogue appeared almost as if his skin had been flayed from his bones. Brand was no longer a man. He was of the same mindset as a rabid beast. Hate clouded his mind, and he thirsted for revenge. The Rogue intended fully on tearing Draal's limbs from his rotting carcass, if Aeron did not do it first.

He could hear the final wailings of the Bloodhawks behind him as Araishan and the rest of the Rogues brought their attack to an end. They were so close to victory. He couldn't let the Elder escape. He wouldn't. Teeth gritted, jaw tightened... and Brand began to limp along, far behind Aeron and the escaping Vampire. He would not rest. He would not fall.

Not until Draal was dead.

Forever.

"Draal...", he rasped...

[Donovan]

"Immortality doesn't always mean forever..."

The horse Aeron sat upon drove a hoof into the ground several times, blowing a swirl of air from its nose. Glinting against the light of the early sunrise, her blade raised in challenge to the Elder.

Draal chuckled, though the sound was devoid of any real emotion. Pale fingers tightened around the handle of a Falx that was wielded one-handed. His massive figure was a silhouette through the dense fog that crept along the trees of the forest. A billowing of the Elder's cloak was the only sound, snapping against the vicious breeze.

"At least you have come to terms."

A wicked grin twisted those crimson lips, drenched in the fresh lifeblood of victims on the battlefield.

"I came to terms, as you say, before your ancestors were little more than piss in the wind."

Aeron slipped from the back of her horse, stepped backward and slapped him hard on the rump, sending him away from them both. This caused an inclination of the Elder's chin, followed by soft laughter.

"You are little more than a slave, woman. Shackled by the chains of your own demons. To kill you would be an act of pity. Which is why I intend to enjoy every moment of your suffering."

Just as he'd spoke, a gutteral moan erupted from the body of the mangled female that lay on the ground. Mucus and bile poured from the mouth and nose of the corpse, and it slowly began to rise beside the Elder. It was a horrifying sight, indeed. But it was little to shake the resolve of the woman who stood before him. Her eyes shifted between the creature and the Elder, then Aeron sprung forward at Draal. But about five or so feet before, Aeron veered sharply again, her blade edge poised to come in low, a sweeping sideways movement which to aim for the legs of the corpse. It severed the limbs of the unholy creation, causing it to crumble as quickly as it rose.

The Elder sprung forward to attack, but found little more than air as Aeron had tucked into a forward roll, swiftly finding her feet several feet away from him. Whirling quickly to find her, yellow eyes narrowed... and he hissed, fangs bared.

"Concerned about a mere woman?", Aeron mocked him as she circled, eyes locked upon those of the undead, Draal.

"Hardly concerned, wench. You are little more than a fly I am preparing to swat.", the Elder replied... the fingers of his free hand beginning to churn together.

She clucked her tongue softly at him, the circle becoming tighter by perhaps a foot or so. "Mmm..a fly eh? Well, I have been called much worse." The length of steel in her hands began to spin, it moved in a whirlwind motion around her, one side than the other, and he would surely know such a purpose.

Grinning wickedly, he flicked his wrist in an underhand motion at her... a small sphere headed right for her midsection. Considering the distance, it would be near impossible to evade. Deflect, perhaps... yes. Tiny barbs split from it in transit, preparing to latch.

With a ring of steel against metal, the sphere was deflected upward into the air, exploding in a bright flash of light that was intended from the start. Aeron had already started in mid-motion when such an explosion occurred, her blade brought downward in a brutal arc meant to separate Draal's sword arm from his shoulder. But it was enough. The Eldar spun away, Falx humming as it whirled back around to split her in half. Aeron's eyes stung, and for those next few moments all was a blur. It was Warrior's instinct that carried her away in a series of well balanced back-handsprings. Attempting to shake the spots from her eyes, she blinked twice... trying to focus on the charging form of Draal.

He let out a cry of fury, bringing the massive blade in a downward arc for the head of Aeron. Steel rang against steel, and the blade was stopped just prior to her neckline. Using her height... or lack thereof, she pushed upward and back against the Elder, driving a series of vicious kicks into his side.

It was several moments of this swaying that they pushed against one another, before the Elder dropped the tip of his blade and dropped back a step... allowing her to push her own weight onto the tip of his blade. Only an instant, before Aeron shifted hands with that blade, stepping back with a hiss of pain. An upward stroke caused the massive Falx to raise upward, leaving Draal vulnerable. With the strength of ten men, Aeron swiped horizontally at Draal's midsection... every intention of spilling his intestines over the already bloodstained path.

A howl, and flesh parted. His hand snapped down to clutch at her forearm and wrist... but it was too late. He'd been cut wide open. His only defense was to press dangerously close against her.

Aeron yanked the blade back toward her with all the strength contained in that slender body, enough strength to life a 300 pound man in full armor and snap his neck. But it was not enough. Draal jerked in the opposite direction, driving her hard into the dirt below.

Foolish Vampire.

A soft 'click' was heard, then a twang as a tiny dagger was shot from a bracer hidden beneath her sleeve. Embedding itself in his ribs, Draal let out a shrill cry, crimson spraying into the woman's face from above. He stumbled back several feet... ripping it from his body with a stomach-turning 'chunk'....


<continued...>

[Donovan]

Footsteps in the forest. The heart of vengeance stared into the midst of the battle through a blood-filled visage...

A thud, just off to the side of each combatant. The Rogue dropped to a single knee. How he had remained conscious was a mystery. His bowstring creaked, an arrow nocked within. His teeth were bared, like a rabid wolf on the hunt... an animalistic growl emitted from his throat.

"Time to rot... you son of a---", the last word was muffled by the *twang* of his bow, the arrow sent sizzling right towards the throat of the Elder.

Spinning at the sound of the growl, his eyes widened. The arrow pierced pale flesh with with a shredding sound... and the Vampire's hands raised to clutch at it, stumbling backward. If Aeron were to strike a deathblow, there was no time as good as right now.

Teeth clenched tightly together, she lept at Draal... her sword brought to bear in another sideways, slashing motion, the edge was being driven with everything she had in that body, sweeping through the air and right for Draal's midsection. Her every intention was slicing him utterly in half where he stood.

It did not quite go all the way through... however, his side seemed to cave in with the force of the blow, and his spinal column snapped in half. A gutteral sound erupted from the Elder's throat, and his body wriggled its way off of her blade... collapsing to the ground. As sickening as it was.. his intestines laid out across the ground, Draal was still very much alive. And here, now, before the eyes of a witness, the full measure of Aeron's cruelty showed. What had made her feared by her enemies and friends alike now surged to the surface.

She lifted Draal by his hair, knowing the pain it had to cause him and spoke, soft, low and her tones were honey-coated acid. "So much for swatting the fly, eh?" She smiled at him, and dug the point of her blade into the mess of his organs, twisted it around just for good measure. He laid there, unable to move nor speak. Blood rushed from every socket in the Elder's face... streaming down his chin to his chest. Eyes shifted to burn into the face of Aeron. Even still, he did not fear her. Something within that tortured spirit had numbed him to the core. And even while she ground his organs, there was not a sound. His barely surviving body just laid there.

The Rogue's face rose slowly to the sound of the Elder's screams, watching the woman standing atop him. He felt a twisting of his stomach as she brutally maimed his body. An honorable death it was not. It sickened him. Eyes closed, and he turned his head slightly. Aeron released his head quite suddenly, let it fall back to the earth. Her sword flipped in her hands, and for one moment Aeron stood over Draal's body, looking down into his stricken eyes. The hilt of her blade was driven downward, smashing into his skull and shattered the bone upon impact, plunged into his head. She pulled it back and left him there, the carrior birds circling above would take care of the rest.

Brand sat up slightly on his knees, body still a bit unsteady. Blood-filled orbs raised to the woman's face... settling there for some time before he spoke. ".. Evening." His lips twisted into a sarcastic smirk, every bit of exposed skin on arms and face a dark shade of crimson from as much as he bled.

She sighed quietly, and gently laid her blade on the ground. From within the confines of her leather pockets, pouches were produced in short order. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she scattered the contents of one pouch onto the earth. From the another, she took a small, dried leaf and pressed it to his lips.

"Place it on your tongue. It tastes horrible, but it will dull the pain and speed the healing process."

The Rogue didn't give her much trouble with it. At this point, anything tasted better than the blood which filled his mouth. Lips parted to take the leaf in, then closed as he watched her. His head bowed slightly in a gesture that could only be taken as a thank you. Blue eyes, now tainted by crimson turned to view the lifeless body of the Vampire on the ground... and he allowed a sound to escape him that sounded much like a snicker.

She glanced back at Draal's body once, then turned away, busying herself with the contents of the pouch on the ground.

"It had to be done that way, you know. There is really only one way to head off vengeance for his death, and that is to make anyone considering it fear me." She lifted her gaze to him, took his chin between suppled fingers and turned his head, from one side to the other, carefully examing him for serious wounds.

"I think they'll get the message..."

"I'm just relieved that it's over."

Softly, her voice little more than a whisper, she spoke.

"It's never over."

Aeron rose to stand, the fingers of one hand curling about the hilt of her sword as she stood. Dark eyed gaze turned toward the distant horizon, reflecting back into that line, shades and depths of sorrow and grief for which there were no words. For a moment, her eyes closed, while Aeron wrestled with the demons dancing at the edges of her visions. She too turned away, moving in the opposite direction, toward her horse. Granted, her eyes stung, and that might have accounted for the tears brimming close to the edge, but who knew? She did not look back, not at Brand or at what was left of Draal...