AGE
30
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Grimm Troupe Leader, Sorcerer's League Competitor, Mercenary
UNSORTED
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Post by Myria of Blades on Apr 13, 2019 8:17:22 GMT
Myria hummed a dissonant ditty as she walked. She was horribly out of tune, but she looked ridiculously cheery. She was going to spar with a certain someone today.
Sparring wasn't usually something Myria looked forward to doing; there were very few circumstances that the swordswoman could go all out, due to her little secrets, and also because most people would fold immediately if she unleashed everything she could bring to bear on them. Or die, if they were unlucky. So with Sorcerer's League, and the more public operations of her peer group, Myria tended to hold back; sparring meant even more holding back, unless it was a peer, or... well... the Sorcerer's League Champion.
She was ten years her junior, with a well-publicized journey in the Academy and even the Guard, if she'd read the news correctly, and she didn't even read it all too often. Then she quit for some reason or another, and rose just as quickly in the League. Myria had been a bit jealous of her progress given her age, and wondered sometimes if she could've had a similarly meteoric rise if she'd discovered her talent in combat magic sooner.
Her accomplishments alone were impressive, but she'd tussled with her in battle before. She was... strong. And electrifying at certain points. Sometimes she wondered if she would be able to make her show all her cards. Would she find out her true nature? The thought thrilled her. Excited her.
She grinned. She could see her figure already from here; the Colosseum might be usually the venue for the games, but it was large enough to also have less large areas for practice and whatnot. Her walk turned into a brisk trot, and soon into a charge.
"Lenny! Good morning!"
She ambushed Eleanor Alcott with... a hug. Well, more a tackle than anything.
Eleanor Alcott
Quest we're tackling is here. |
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Apr 13, 2019 15:32:31 GMT
Post by Eleanor Alcott on Apr 13, 2019 15:32:31 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","opmind"] [attr="class","opmindblurb"] [attr="class","opmindblurb1"]Eleanor hadn’t been crowned the Sorcerer’s League Champion for nothing. She had honed her reflexes to razor sharpness, and her reaction time was second to none. So when anyone, even someone of Myria’s skill, came tackling her – well, it was a simple matter to turn out of the way and assume a fighting stance.
[break][break]
“Myria?” Eleanor said, assessing her opponent and softening her stance. “You seem excited today. Thinking about our little match, mmm?” Myria was talented, but not on her level. More importantly, though, she was excitable – she fought with a fire that Eleanor rarely saw in any of her other sparring partners. The girl was…unique, all in all.
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AGE
30
GENDER
Female
FACTION
Grimm Troupe
OCCUPATION
Grimm Troupe Leader, Sorcerer's League Competitor, Mercenary
UNSORTED
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Post by Myria of Blades on Apr 15, 2019 6:41:36 GMT
Myria pouted as Lenny seamlessly slipped out of her reach. "Boo, you don't have to think of everything as an attack." she grumbled. She would have liked to hug her and nuzzle her and maybe entertain the idea of eviscerating her stomach from a conjured sword from that position... just a little bit.
She straightened herself out, bent her neck from side to side, and stretched a bit. "Yeah, I was super excited!" It was not everyday she could get Lenny all to herself, what with her being a busy champion and all. "I've been thinking of a couple of things I want to try... ah, but you'll have to see them later~" she said, teasingly.
She looked to the side to see that the designated healer was in duty, if a little sleepy. Satisfied that everything was up to usual League conditions, she began producing her weapons from her personal hammerspace. She brought out a rapier, a gladius, a broadsword, a katana, a falchion, and a shotel. She pondered on them for a little bit before deciding that these were the weapons she wanted to go with.
"Shall we get right to it?" she said, as she settled into a fighting stance as well. If Lenny gave any sign of affirmation, she'd charge and attack.
Eleanor Alcott |
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