Magdalyn moved up alongside Vincent, the crackling fire throwing her long shadow against the jagged cave walls. It took her a few seconds to comprehend the sight before her. The captured boy was bound, gagged, and tossed like a discarded sack of garbage against the far wall. The creatures, which Mags recognized as grass gnolls, looked especially intimidating in the light of the dancing flames. Their tiger-bodies were dirty, disheveled, and draped in what she assumed was a piss-poor attempt at clothing. Their hyena faces were twisted in an expression of impish delight. And there was blood. It was so dark against their pale muzzles that she thought it might have been ink. But no, what sense would that make? Horrified, she glanced back at the boy, but he seemed completely intact, entirely unharmed. Then what was the... Then she saw it. A few feet from the boy lay a pile of oddly shaped items. She had to squint to make out the finer details, but she eventually recognized it for what it was. A saddle, a pad, and the mangled remains of a bridle. Oh. Hell. "Vincent." Her voice was low, a snarl that sounded foreign even to her own ears. Or else, it might have, if she could hear it. Her ears, her head, her entire being, was consumed by a rage buzzing like angered yellow jackets. "Get the boy, and take him out to Altivo." They had left her white stallion tied to the nearest tree, not far from where they now stood. "Now." There was no question, no hesitation, no room for argument. The woman's normally orange eyes flashed an icy, shimmering blue as investigative mode clicked on. If they had been a pulsing red, they could not have held the same warning, and the same threat. Without a word, she promised bloodshed. They killed his freaking horse.
Oh snap she's pissed. Vincent scanned the small crowd, plotting his path. He didn't know Mags' skill with a blade, but that seemed to be a whole lotta dog boys. At least seven, maybe more. She was right though, the kid came first, and he needed to get him out of the crossfire before it went down. But how...? Ah yes, our famous three Vince Monte that still doesn't work. He mused to himself. He closed his eyes, thinking about himself, which he was very good at. He imagined every little hair on his head, every minor flaw on his body, and gritted his teeth. In his head he had the perfect copy of himself, and let it fly. Somewhere between brain and reality, things warped, his hair was off hue, his skin was darker than normal, and the form generally had a subtle hint of being translucent. He didn't have time to worry about that as he dashed forward with his new clone, sword drawn as he made a beeline for this kid. Everyone yelped, including the boy and Vince. Two handsome devils leaped around the corner and stormed the fire with as much speed as he could muster. None of them had time to grab their gear, instead they did their best to roll out of the way of his blade...s. The way was opened, and the young man found himself snatching at the boy and lifting him onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry as he quickly leaped back. The chaos his phantasm had caused was just enough of a smoke screen, and her turned to backpedal away when a mean looking gnoll stepped into his path snarling. "Shit."
There had to be more half a dozen! Under normal circumstances, that would have been good enough reason for Magdalyn to pause. She would have recognized how terribly outnumbered she was, and taken time to plan a better strategy than go-in-guns-a-blazin. She would have remembered that she, in fact, had no idea how powerful these creatures were; investigation mode only told her so much. For all she knew, she had waltzed right in to a max-level quest of some sort. These beasts could spell her demise, and she could be asking for her first in-game death on a silver platter. Then fucking bring it. She was not in her right mind, and these were not normal circumstances. Mags was pissed, on so many levels, and to the core of her very being. Her now-blue eyes flashed as she counted. Seven. Why why wHy WHY did they ALWAYS kill the horse? The warrior sprung, her lanky body exploding toward the men as if shot from a cannon. Her spear found one, and then two, before the others could comprehend what was happening. It might have been easier to use the blunt end of her staff to simply knock the men out, but in the moment, she wanted more. She needed more. She needed to see blood. Two more lunged at her, dropping their dinner in their haste. Somehow, watching the remains of the poor horse tumble to the floor only fanned the flame of anger. When the first return attack came, she threw herself out of the way, rolled, and found her feet behind the confused pair. The pointy end of her stick met their necks in rapid succession, and their bodies had not even hit the earth before she rounded on the others. They were backing up, backing away, toward the far end of the cave. Had Vincent been any slower, the boy still would have been there. But no, now he was free of danger. And Mags had a bit more room to work with. With one gesture of her hand, and grunt of exertion, the upper wall of the cave fell away. With a great rumble, and burst of gritty air, the two were entombed in the same rock that had sheltered them from the storm. Two. Two? Had there not been seven? Even in her enraged state, Mags was able to pause long enough for mental math. Two there, two there, two over there, and oh shit. She turned just in time to watch the gnoll step into Vince's path. There you are, she thought with more sickly-sweet savageness than was really necessary. With one more flick of her wrist, a thick vine burst from the thin grass that carpeted the cave floor. Was it totally realistic? No, but her mastery allowed for it, so why not? With a twisted half-grin, half-snarl, Magdalyn watched her vine coil around the man, then yank him back, dropping him into the still-lively campfire. The stench of burning hair, burning flesh, filled the small space. She much preferred that to the smell of cooking horse.
Vincent blinked, there had been gnolls here just a second ago. He could have sworn, for half a moment, that he'd been in danger. Only a moment. Instead he was standing in the scene of a massacre. Well, Massacre was putting it lightly. This woman, whom he'd just met, had put a hurting on those gnolls. She'd redefined what it meant when they said Hell hath no fury. Six gnolls down in a matter of moments. The whole cave reeked of dead gnoll, to the point where he'd considered opening the options and fiddling with his settings. Instead he simply opened his mouth to speak. "Holy shit," He tried to make more words come out, but his lips kept gaping and trying to put words together, but nothing was coming out. After all, he'd just witnessed some incredible stuff. Instead he turned to the boy and shot him a stern look. "Yo, you scared the shit outta your mom"
Mags' chest was rising and falling heavily as she slid her spear onto her back. Whether the game was truly picking up on her exertion, or if that was simply the reaction her brain was saying she should be having, she still felt winded. She drew in a long breath, hoping to fill her lungs with crisp air, but found only the smoke of dead, cooking gnoll. She nearly choked, but caught herself before she could do something so embarrassing. She was ready to be out of the cave, so she took a few steps toward the entrance. If she moved far enough, she might hint that she was ready to return without appearing bossy. After the display of power she had just exhibited, coming across as demanding could damage any relationship she was forging with Vincent Cain. It would also undoubtedly terrify the boy, who already looked worse for wear. And could she really blame him? She had been through hell. She doubted that he would be quick to run off again. The kid in question did look as if he were teetering on the edge of tears, ready to topple over into complete break-down. His bottom lip trembled, his eyes were as wide as saucers, and his skin was the same shade as Altivo. Not good. Call it motherly instinct, or her deeply-ingrained teacher instincts, but the sight drained the rage from her. Slowly, carefully, Mags extended a hand toward the NPC. He flinched as she rest it gingerly on his shoulder, but he did not cry, nor did he pull away. Perhaps that was a good sign. "You're safe now," she assured him, her voice adopting a maternal softness. "We'll get you back in one piece."
Vincent simply watched as Mags went from god of war to caring mother in the drop of a hat, coddling the poor child and tending to him as Vince simply eyed the weather outside. The woman had made move to leave, but the young man simply squinted at the clouds through the deluge of rain. The storm wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, in fact it was liable to get worse over time. He was torn, honestly, between a desire to finish this little quest and logging out, or roughing it out in this cave and trying to get things to blow over. He rubbed his chin, decisions decisions. The young boy looked like he would be having a hard time following them, and without his pony well, there wasn't room on Altivo for three as far as he knew. "Do you think we should wait a bit? Let the storm blow over? It's gonna be a rough trek back to town, and as much as this place smells there's at least a fire..."
As if to accent the man’s question, a clap of thunder burst from the heavens. The sound was so akin to a crack of stone that Mags had a momentary fear of a cave in. Only when her heart returned to her chest, and she found her breath again, did she answer him. “You’re probably right,” she told him. But she shook her head, her displeasure evident in her tone and her body language. It was certainly no reflection of her feelings toward Vincent, and she hoped that he understood that. In truth, Mags found herself taking quite a shining to the blonde. He had an easy way about him that she admired and respected tremendously. So often, players in Terrasphere used the virtual world to prove something, to the world, or themselves. Vince seemed to merely enjoy himself for the hell of it. That was something they had in common, and she knew a night of talking with him would be incredibly pleasant. Besides, wasn’t this the reason she had joined Terrasphere in the first place? But the poor woman, worried about her child. Magdalyn could not quiet that nagging voice in the back of her mind. Even if the NPC and her son were not real, Mags could not help but be concerned. And, more selfishly, the player and the woman hooked to the dive gear were both exhausted. Fortunately, it was a Friday evening and Mags could afford to stay in game all night. But all nighters were never her forte. “I’m not thrilled about the thought of staying with the bodies, though.” This, she said in hushed tones, to avoid upsetting the boy. “And I need a cave with a bit more clearance, to bring Altivo in.” With over-confident strides, she walked back toward the carnage. Without looking at the charred body, still smoldering in the fire, she plucked out two burning sticks. One, she held like a torch. The other, she offered to Vince. “Why don’t you two try the cave next to us? I know there’s a ton along this mountain’s base. Try to keep the flame alive, so we can make another fire. I’ll grab the horse.”
