Helena Sigrid Sattler
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 27
Physical Description: Helena is a tall woman, standing at six-foot-two, and has a strong, toned physique from years of training. She has long blonde hair, often tied into a braid, icy blue eyes, and a pale complexion. Her features are rather pretty, but she sports her fair share of scars, most hidden under her armour except for one that intersects her right eyebrow, and one small scar on the left side of her bottom lip.
Clothes and Equipment: Helena was brought up a commoner, so when outside of armour she doesn't bother with fancy attires that her wages could afford. Instead, she keeps to a regular old green tunic, one her mother had stitched Northern patterns in years prior, and a pair of thick, light blue trousers. Of course, even in her commoner garb, she keeps it clean (unless she's been indulging in her homely hobbies.)
However, as an esteemed sergeant of the guard, she is often seen in her set of plate armour. The armour is well made, very protective, but not overly flashy. As with most guardsman, her armour's look is fairly standard. No intricate designs, no flashy gems or trim, but instead just the standard issue lines and patterns across the metal work. The set is complete with a visored barbute helmet, with two eye holes and a small cross cut into one cheek.
The armour sports a tabard, designed with Isran colours and the nation's crest. It splits at the belt and runs down he greaves' thighs, revealing the chainmail skirts in between.
However, as a sergeant, she is granted just a little of her own touch. The trim around the neck of her breast plate sits a fur coif, one sported mostly by the handful of guards of Northern decent holding a high enough rank to get away with it.
For weapons, Helena has spent many years training with many different varieties, finding what suits her, but also for survival on the battlefield. Her philosophy is that, no matter how good a fighter you are, you can still be disarmed, so you should know how to fight with anything.
So, her primary choice in weapon is a longsword, sheathed on one side. As backup, she carries a kite shield on her back, and a one handed axe on her other side.
Allegiances: Isra and the Empress
Player's online availability : Somewhat available.
Registered: May 7, 2019 17:15:04 GMT -8
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Post by Helena Sigrid Sattler on Nov 29, 2019 16:09:30 GMT -8
Although Helena had indeed considered pocketting the gold, Foxgloves had successfully implanted the idea of the arena in her mind. Sure she’d heard of it before, but never really considered going as a spectator, let alone as a combatant. Recent events, and more importantly the amount of red tape, bureaucracy, and paperwork she had been forced to do in her position had left it feeling… lacking. It had been a long while since her last good fight. Too long.
So, the sergeant walks into the arena lobby, kitted out in her armour, with her barbute helmet tucked under her arm. A longsword sits in its sheath on her back, and one of her trusty axes sits pretty by her side, both blunted just enough to reach regulations for the arena. She isn’t there to kill, afterall, just to fight.
She peers up at Foxgloves and shakes her head. Classic Foxgloves, walking on ceilings and generally being weird. What a character.
The sergeant makes her way to the registration table and places the bag of coins on the table. “Sergeant Helena Sigrid Sattler,” she says to the folks registering the fighters. “I’m here for tonight’s fight.”
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Tala
Committed
Strider
Roleplay posts: 53
Age: 32
Physical Description: Strong-willed Tala is of not of considerable height for her kin, but standing at 5’9”, is still taller than most humans. Her long black, untamable mane is dreaded and braided away from her pale face. With a towering, strong form, she has a fine athletic figure after a lifetime of hunting & fighting, with stamina great enough to be able to hike and hunt long distances over a period of days without tiring. Unforgettable watchful, icy-blue eyes that don't miss much.
*
Clothes and Equipment: +Fur cloak w/ feathered hood +Face paint
+Light leather armor +Rings of Aegis (Accuracy+)
+Linen tunic and trousers +Claymore (Silver)
+Leather bracers and boots +Scimitar dagger
+Bandaged arms/wrists +Shortbow/Arrows
+Bandaged feet/ankles +Travel pack (misc.)
+Water Skin +Two books (Ask for details)
*
Allegiances: The Companions (Company of Mercenaries)
Registered: Aug 6, 2019 14:02:05 GMT -8
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Post by Tala on Nov 29, 2019 16:36:33 GMT -8
Pocketing the gold and going out for a couple of tankards was exactly the kind of character that the mercenary was.
Fighting was hardly the unfamiliar sport for Tala. Neither was drinking. She could best a man in a drinking game as well as she could best him in a wrestling match. After all, she had been taught the inner workings of that world by her father, and older brothers. For her marriage, she challenged to marry any man that could best her in a match of their choosing, but any man she beat would have to gift her a horse. That summer, her family wound up with one-hundred horses they didn't quite know what to do with. That was all ancient history.
After signing up with the registrar, Tala passively observed the surroundings as she waited in the lobby for what would come next: the fight.
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Foxgloves
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Physical Description: Foxgloves is shaped like a man for the most part, tall and lanky. He wears a long coat with innumerable pockets and a hood with two long points that flop about like a rabbit's ears. The fingers of his gloves are long and thin, and his pointed boots are unadorned. Most notably, he wears a white mask, behind which only darkness can be seen. He is very light, as though stuffed nothing but cotton and cobwebs.
Registered: May 14, 2019 20:08:06 GMT -8
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Post by Foxgloves on Nov 29, 2019 19:29:55 GMT -8
The man at the registration table gave a hard glare towards Helena, the numerous scars across his face accentuating the scowl he gave her. He only spoke after a moment of hard contemplation, his voice gravelly and harsh. "This is no place for the law, Sergeant. I think you'd best be heading back home, lest there be trouble. Your kind ain't too welcome here." Foxgloves hopped down from the ceiling, landing lightly on the ground without so much as a thump. Stepping over to the table, he reached into his pocket and tossed a handful of coins across the table. "Our dear Helena is with me, Marshall," he said. "Please overlook her occupation. She's here to fight, and won't cause any trouble. I assure you, she'll draw quite a crowd." The man hesitated for a moment, then scooped up the coins and shoved them into his pockets. Glancing between Foxgloves and Helena, he gave a hesitant nod. "I suppose you're welcome to join in the fun, Sergeant, but you'd best leave your badge at the door. You'd best keep your occupation quiet. Walk in as a regular citizen, and enter in peace." He accepted her registration and gestured for her to head over to where the rest of the fighters stood. Foxgloves followed her, patting her on the shoulder. "Excitement," he said. "That's what you wanted, isn't it, Helena dear? I'm sure you'll find plenty of that here. It's an exciting place, with the crowd and everything. Everyone needs a little excitement in their lives. That's why you're here, and that's why this young man right here has come through. Isn't it, sir?" This last comment was directed towards a scruffy man who smelled of cheap whiskey and clutched a small bag of toasted, puffed corn. The man nodded, beaming at Foxgloves. "That's right, sir! I've heard these fights are awfully exciting to watch! Say, is it true that when the women fight, they take everything off? My uncle Willard said they don't wear anything at all, but he's known to exaggerate..." Foxgloves cocked his head to one side as he contemplated the young man, reaching into his coat and retrieving a large canvas sack. "Everything?" he asked. "I don't know about that. From what I know, they take off anything that might restrict movement, but leave on enough to keep anything from moving around too much. If you'd like to see what's underneath, though, I don't see anything wrong with taking a look..." He held the bag open for the young man, allowing him to peer inside. The man looked inside curiously, and the color drained from his face. He turned and ran towards a large decorative stone vase, bending down and vomiting the contents of his stomach into it. Foxglove sighed, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "I'll never understand these people," he said, shaking his head. "I show them what they want to see, and they run. Why are they so strange, Helena dear? Why don't you ever seem to know what you really want? Do you know what you really want, Miss Tala?" That last comment was directed towards Tala, who they happened to be standing right next to.
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Helena Sigrid Sattler
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 27
Physical Description: Helena is a tall woman, standing at six-foot-two, and has a strong, toned physique from years of training. She has long blonde hair, often tied into a braid, icy blue eyes, and a pale complexion. Her features are rather pretty, but she sports her fair share of scars, most hidden under her armour except for one that intersects her right eyebrow, and one small scar on the left side of her bottom lip.
Clothes and Equipment: Helena was brought up a commoner, so when outside of armour she doesn't bother with fancy attires that her wages could afford. Instead, she keeps to a regular old green tunic, one her mother had stitched Northern patterns in years prior, and a pair of thick, light blue trousers. Of course, even in her commoner garb, she keeps it clean (unless she's been indulging in her homely hobbies.)
However, as an esteemed sergeant of the guard, she is often seen in her set of plate armour. The armour is well made, very protective, but not overly flashy. As with most guardsman, her armour's look is fairly standard. No intricate designs, no flashy gems or trim, but instead just the standard issue lines and patterns across the metal work. The set is complete with a visored barbute helmet, with two eye holes and a small cross cut into one cheek.
The armour sports a tabard, designed with Isran colours and the nation's crest. It splits at the belt and runs down he greaves' thighs, revealing the chainmail skirts in between.
However, as a sergeant, she is granted just a little of her own touch. The trim around the neck of her breast plate sits a fur coif, one sported mostly by the handful of guards of Northern decent holding a high enough rank to get away with it.
For weapons, Helena has spent many years training with many different varieties, finding what suits her, but also for survival on the battlefield. Her philosophy is that, no matter how good a fighter you are, you can still be disarmed, so you should know how to fight with anything.
So, her primary choice in weapon is a longsword, sheathed on one side. As backup, she carries a kite shield on her back, and a one handed axe on her other side.
Allegiances: Isra and the Empress
Player's online availability : Somewhat available.
Registered: May 7, 2019 17:15:04 GMT -8
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Post by Helena Sigrid Sattler on Dec 2, 2019 19:53:35 GMT -8
“I’m not here as part of the law,” Helena growls as she’s registered. “I’m just here to fight. If anyone has a problem with that in there, I’ll make them eat their words.” Judging by her build, equipment, and general attitude, there’s a lot of truth to those words.
She listens to Foxgloves and nods at his words, before slipping her helmet over her head, the visor still standing up to reveal her face. “It’ll make for a nice change,” she admits. “No paperwork, just a show of skill. I’m looking forward to it.” She peers down at the small raggedy man, her face screwed up in a scowl as he even suggests fighting naked. She’s about to protest when Foxgloves opens his bag, sending the man into a flee.
She looks from the man, back to Foxgloves, then back to the man. “I hope that’s not a bag full of tits, Foxgloves,” she says, really not wanting to know the answer. “You not understanding them is only fair, because nobody will ever understand you, my friend. I sure as hell won’t.” With a firm clank of metal on metal she pats her chest piece, making sure its tight enough. “And I’m not fighting naked. That’s for private times.”
The sergeant’s attention goes to the other woman, who she quickly sizes up. Perhaps a merc? Either way, she looks to be one of the hardest fighters around, if Helena isn’t wrong. She offers a gauntleted hand to the woman, a small smirk on her lips. “Sattler,” she says. “I look forward to fighting you, Miss Tala. You look like a challenging opponent.”
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Tala
Committed
Strider
Roleplay posts: 53
Age: 32
Physical Description: Strong-willed Tala is of not of considerable height for her kin, but standing at 5’9”, is still taller than most humans. Her long black, untamable mane is dreaded and braided away from her pale face. With a towering, strong form, she has a fine athletic figure after a lifetime of hunting & fighting, with stamina great enough to be able to hike and hunt long distances over a period of days without tiring. Unforgettable watchful, icy-blue eyes that don't miss much.
*
Clothes and Equipment: +Fur cloak w/ feathered hood +Face paint
+Light leather armor +Rings of Aegis (Accuracy+)
+Linen tunic and trousers +Claymore (Silver)
+Leather bracers and boots +Scimitar dagger
+Bandaged arms/wrists +Shortbow/Arrows
+Bandaged feet/ankles +Travel pack (misc.)
+Water Skin +Two books (Ask for details)
*
Allegiances: The Companions (Company of Mercenaries)
Registered: Aug 6, 2019 14:02:05 GMT -8
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Post by Tala on Dec 3, 2019 7:17:33 GMT -8
Tala used her free time to stretch and warm her muscles before the main event with some mild exercise. Metal armor was no good in the freezing tundra of the north. Not for soldiers, nor for mercenaries. Strong, thick, hide worked just as well in stopping a swift moving axe in its tracks. How satisfying it was to see the look of surprise on the unsuspecting that underestimated her after breaking their face with the butt of her sword. The thought of it made her smile a bit. The mercenary glared the way of a masked thing. Tala didn't care for all-knowing creepy creatures. It best stay clear of her if it knew what was good for it. Her expression slightly softened as she grasped the arm of the soldier the warrior way. The woman did look to be a formidable foe. "Aye, you too," she agreed with a smirk as she shook the Sergeant's arm, "I look forward to beating you."
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Foxgloves
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Physical Description: Foxgloves is shaped like a man for the most part, tall and lanky. He wears a long coat with innumerable pockets and a hood with two long points that flop about like a rabbit's ears. The fingers of his gloves are long and thin, and his pointed boots are unadorned. Most notably, he wears a white mask, behind which only darkness can be seen. He is very light, as though stuffed nothing but cotton and cobwebs.
Registered: May 14, 2019 20:08:06 GMT -8
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Post by Foxgloves on Dec 3, 2019 11:21:03 GMT -8
"What we hope for and what we get are often two very different things," said Foxgloves, putting the bag away within his coat with a rather moist squish. "That young man over there learned that today. Besides, what's not to understand? I sell things, just like that snack seller over there with the cart of sweet rolls. Seems simple enough to me. You people are the complicated ones."
He caught the other woman's glare and the points of his hood drooped down. Why were people so mistrustful all the time? Ignoring a question like that was awfully rude, but he decided to overlook it. Maybe customs were different wherever she was from.
"I look forward to watching your match," he said. "Best of luck to the both of you, but my money is on you, Helena dear. Figuratively, that is. I don't like to gamble. Why risk losing money when there are so many other things to do with it? I'd rather spend my hard-earned gold on earthworms than risk losing it on the betting table."
The sound of a bell rang out, its deep peal echoing throughout the arena. The points of Foxgloves' hood perked up, and he glanced over his shoulder hurriedly.
"That's the last call for fighters," he said. "You two had best get ready! I'll be in the stands in a bit, but first I have to see a man about a bird. There's a guy here who will sell me this strange bird from the far seas, a sort of black-and-white duck that stands upright and doesn't fly. Don't say a word, Helena dear. You're not a guard tonight."
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Helena Sigrid Sattler
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 27
Physical Description: Helena is a tall woman, standing at six-foot-two, and has a strong, toned physique from years of training. She has long blonde hair, often tied into a braid, icy blue eyes, and a pale complexion. Her features are rather pretty, but she sports her fair share of scars, most hidden under her armour except for one that intersects her right eyebrow, and one small scar on the left side of her bottom lip.
Clothes and Equipment: Helena was brought up a commoner, so when outside of armour she doesn't bother with fancy attires that her wages could afford. Instead, she keeps to a regular old green tunic, one her mother had stitched Northern patterns in years prior, and a pair of thick, light blue trousers. Of course, even in her commoner garb, she keeps it clean (unless she's been indulging in her homely hobbies.)
However, as an esteemed sergeant of the guard, she is often seen in her set of plate armour. The armour is well made, very protective, but not overly flashy. As with most guardsman, her armour's look is fairly standard. No intricate designs, no flashy gems or trim, but instead just the standard issue lines and patterns across the metal work. The set is complete with a visored barbute helmet, with two eye holes and a small cross cut into one cheek.
The armour sports a tabard, designed with Isran colours and the nation's crest. It splits at the belt and runs down he greaves' thighs, revealing the chainmail skirts in between.
However, as a sergeant, she is granted just a little of her own touch. The trim around the neck of her breast plate sits a fur coif, one sported mostly by the handful of guards of Northern decent holding a high enough rank to get away with it.
For weapons, Helena has spent many years training with many different varieties, finding what suits her, but also for survival on the battlefield. Her philosophy is that, no matter how good a fighter you are, you can still be disarmed, so you should know how to fight with anything.
So, her primary choice in weapon is a longsword, sheathed on one side. As backup, she carries a kite shield on her back, and a one handed axe on her other side.
Allegiances: Isra and the Empress
Player's online availability : Somewhat available.
Registered: May 7, 2019 17:15:04 GMT -8
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Post by Helena Sigrid Sattler on Dec 3, 2019 15:21:23 GMT -8
Helena’s grip on Tala’s arm is strong and firm as she returns the shake with a wide grin. “I won’t go down easy, friend,” she says before letting go. “This should be fun.”
She looks to Foxgloves and rolls her eyes a little. “I think what people don’t get is how you exist, Foxgloves, or the things you do.” She hears the bells and lowers the front of her barbute helmet. “You’re far from normal. That’s why I like you.” She tilts her head from side to side, resulting in a couple of pops as she limbers up. “And thanks, your confidence is appreciated.” Its nice to know she ranks under earthworms, but its Foxgloves, earthworms could be the top of his list of things he likes, she wouldn’t be surprised.
She cracks her knuckles and nods. She had no real desire to make her profession known to the whole arena, its the reason she removed the Isran Guard crest from her armour for the evening. “Noted. Lets have some fun.” She pauses for just a moment… a flightless bird that stands up? She shakes that thought off, realising that it's best not to question these things, really. With that, she starts off towards the gathering.
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Tala
Committed
Strider
Roleplay posts: 53
Age: 32
Physical Description: Strong-willed Tala is of not of considerable height for her kin, but standing at 5’9”, is still taller than most humans. Her long black, untamable mane is dreaded and braided away from her pale face. With a towering, strong form, she has a fine athletic figure after a lifetime of hunting & fighting, with stamina great enough to be able to hike and hunt long distances over a period of days without tiring. Unforgettable watchful, icy-blue eyes that don't miss much.
*
Clothes and Equipment: +Fur cloak w/ feathered hood +Face paint
+Light leather armor +Rings of Aegis (Accuracy+)
+Linen tunic and trousers +Claymore (Silver)
+Leather bracers and boots +Scimitar dagger
+Bandaged arms/wrists +Shortbow/Arrows
+Bandaged feet/ankles +Travel pack (misc.)
+Water Skin +Two books (Ask for details)
*
Allegiances: The Companions (Company of Mercenaries)
Registered: Aug 6, 2019 14:02:05 GMT -8
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Post by Tala on Dec 3, 2019 15:33:24 GMT -8
"I'm looking forward to the challenge," Tala replied, and turned her back as the other creature started talking. She didn't trust creatures who couldn't put their money where their mouth was, if it even had a mouth. She turned her head and nodded to the woman in good faith, then moved ahead towards the gathering as the two continued their chat.
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Foxgloves
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Physical Description: Foxgloves is shaped like a man for the most part, tall and lanky. He wears a long coat with innumerable pockets and a hood with two long points that flop about like a rabbit's ears. The fingers of his gloves are long and thin, and his pointed boots are unadorned. Most notably, he wears a white mask, behind which only darkness can be seen. He is very light, as though stuffed nothing but cotton and cobwebs.
Registered: May 14, 2019 20:08:06 GMT -8
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Post by Foxgloves on Dec 3, 2019 16:34:08 GMT -8
Foxgloves vanished into the crowd, and the fighters gathered. The "referee", if he could be called that, was a suspiciously short man wearing a pointed red cap. His full, bushy beard lent the impression that he was a dwarf, rather than a gnome, but a careful observer would note that it looked an awful lot like a bundle of horsehair, and seemed to slip ever-so-slightly from his face whenever he moved his head too quickly.
"Alright, you lot," he said. "You know the rules. No eye poking, no low blows, no crying to momma if you get a bruise. Accidents happen, so if you die don't come back and haunt us. I would say I want to see some good, clean, fights out there today, but we all know that that's a lie. Be vicious and win."
As he talked, most of the fighters ignored him, choosing instead to chatter among themselves. Most of them were veterans of this ring, after all, and knew everything he was going to say. Distracted as they were, they didn't seem to notice what appeared to be a severed hand scuttling across the floor, a folded piece of paper clutched between thumb and forefinger. The hand crawled stealthily up the small man's leg, slipped the paper into his pocket, pulled a similar sheet out of the pocket, and scuttled away unnoticed. Just a few moments later, the referee pulled the new piece of paper out of his pocket, oblivious to the pickpocketing.
"I will now read out the order of the matches," he said. "First match of the day will be between two newcomers: Sattler and Tala. Fighters, please step forward to the center of the ring."
The "ring" was a simple circle of rocks laid in the sand, perhaps 40 feet in diameter. As the crowd parted to let Tala and Helena through, they might have seen Foxgloves off in a dark corner of the arena, talking to a man hidden behind a pillar. Foxgloves handed off the squishy bag from before as well as a handful of golden coins, and received a strange-looking black-and-white bird. It looked a bit like a goose, but with an oddly squat body and no neck to speak of. Its beak was tied shut with a piece of twine. Foxgloves held it at arms length for a moment, contemplating it curiously before stuffing it into the inside of his coat and shaking the man's hand.
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Helena Sigrid Sattler
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 27
Physical Description: Helena is a tall woman, standing at six-foot-two, and has a strong, toned physique from years of training. She has long blonde hair, often tied into a braid, icy blue eyes, and a pale complexion. Her features are rather pretty, but she sports her fair share of scars, most hidden under her armour except for one that intersects her right eyebrow, and one small scar on the left side of her bottom lip.
Clothes and Equipment: Helena was brought up a commoner, so when outside of armour she doesn't bother with fancy attires that her wages could afford. Instead, she keeps to a regular old green tunic, one her mother had stitched Northern patterns in years prior, and a pair of thick, light blue trousers. Of course, even in her commoner garb, she keeps it clean (unless she's been indulging in her homely hobbies.)
However, as an esteemed sergeant of the guard, she is often seen in her set of plate armour. The armour is well made, very protective, but not overly flashy. As with most guardsman, her armour's look is fairly standard. No intricate designs, no flashy gems or trim, but instead just the standard issue lines and patterns across the metal work. The set is complete with a visored barbute helmet, with two eye holes and a small cross cut into one cheek.
The armour sports a tabard, designed with Isran colours and the nation's crest. It splits at the belt and runs down he greaves' thighs, revealing the chainmail skirts in between.
However, as a sergeant, she is granted just a little of her own touch. The trim around the neck of her breast plate sits a fur coif, one sported mostly by the handful of guards of Northern decent holding a high enough rank to get away with it.
For weapons, Helena has spent many years training with many different varieties, finding what suits her, but also for survival on the battlefield. Her philosophy is that, no matter how good a fighter you are, you can still be disarmed, so you should know how to fight with anything.
So, her primary choice in weapon is a longsword, sheathed on one side. As backup, she carries a kite shield on her back, and a one handed axe on her other side.
Allegiances: Isra and the Empress
Player's online availability : Somewhat available.
Registered: May 7, 2019 17:15:04 GMT -8
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Post by Helena Sigrid Sattler on Dec 4, 2019 4:04:02 GMT -8
Helena listens close. Done haunt them if she's killed? Well she isn't going to die, but if she does, she absolutely plans on haunting them. What are they going to do, arrest a ghost? Yeah, right, and that's totally a dwarf.
Vicious though? Vicious she could do. Of course, many would have missed it, but her keen eye spots the little hand scuttling towards the man, piquing her interest. "What are you up to now, Foxgloves…" she mutters to herself, peering out of her visor. That can't be good.
Lo and behold, Foxgloves' motive becomes apparent as her name is called out with Tala's, the woman she just met. She should have known, considering he had somewhat introduced them. Either way, she's up.
The tall woman walks forth towards the circle, drawing the long sword from her back, and giving it a light whirl with a flick of her wrist, testing its weight in her hand. It's as familiar to her as her own arm is, having spent many years training with it. She's ready for a good old fashioned scrap, none of that fancy stuff the Knights and such do, just getting down to brass tacks and getting some excitement into her life.
"Fitting," she says, her voice slightly obscured by her visor. "I have been looking forward to this fight, Miss Tala." She lifts her blade and points it at her. "And I do not believe you will disappoint."
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