Open Chronicles A Flame Corrupted.

[Orival Theodric]

/Falwood/

"Are you dragon in human form..?"
​

The weak words escaped the apprentice Dreadlords lips as he watched two of his allies charred corpses hit the ground. Orival's hand now gripped upon the terrified apprentice's hair. The pyromancer held a finger to the air in front of the scared opponent and wrote: "Who is the Dreadlord who blinks? Who is the Dreadlord who creates dreams? Their names escape me and you will tell them to me."

The apprentice shook his head as if to speak that he did not know. It was genuine. What a waste. Orival set the young man's head aflame and let him scream and writhe for a few seconds before he dropped his body to the ground. The thud was wet against the cold Falwood ground. These woods. Where he met her, the dream maker. And the young warrior who flickered his appearance to him. Orival had returned home after the loot runners and the encounter with these two Dreadlords completely changed. A roaring flame. Fury unbridled and hatred forming in his heart. He wanted to kill them. All of them. Even if it meant his own death.

He had learned that they trained in these woods fairly often, and would make it a point to visit here as often as he could with his mother being none the wiser.

If there was apprentices here than it likely meant there were higher ups. Or so he hoped. He clutched blue flame in his hand and dispersed it with his grip before dashing back into the bushes, leaving the corpses as a message.

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/381187555938324358/

Finally, after his long journey of adventure, Zier has returned to Falwood to visit his parents for two months before setting out again. He could live in the city until he grew old, but it'll always remain as a secondary home. There's something here that the city doesn't possess. He has no idea why, but the forest always fills him with vitality. It's a wonderful experience that overwhelms every sense. The rigged edges of the tall, strong, Tree bark against his fingertips; they've stood for centuries before him and the tales they could tell, if they could talk, would be infinite. The fragrant smell of flowers permeating the air and the gentle breeze against his skin is invigorating. Exquisite. Perhaps it's a good idea he visits and departs for a such a short time, because he doesn't want this experience to grow old, ever.

He diverted from his normal path, simply to indulge in the forests beauty. His strolling was abruptly halted by a very distinct smell. It was... burning flesh? No, it couldn't be. It's usual to smell something like that in such a forest, especially considering that Pyromancy is banned here as a result of a horrific fire one hundred years ago. It killed several elves. Zier would think fire, in general, in an unsupervised space, is banned as well.

He couldn't resist investigating this. Something serious could be happening and it'd be immoral of him to let another fire ignite and do nothing about it. As repulsive as it was, he followed the scent. It grew worse with each step and he had to occasionally stop to give himself a break. It was abhorrent. Finally reaching the cause, he was bewildered and appalled. Charred bodies were laying on the ground. He took a step back, wanting to run. He'd never seen dead bodies up close before, but he had to investigate. He took a few, shaky steps towards them as his breathing quickened.

He hesitantly kneeled beside them and inspected their injuries. It was obvious that they were killed by a pyromancer. Although, something stuck out for him. Something that made every part of his body grow cold. One of their heads were burnt, and that appears to be the cause of death. It was slow, painful. No one would do that to another person unless their hearts were filled with hatred. Whoever done it was cruel and full of malice.

Zier stood back up and dusted his knees off. He was frightened by this, but there's no time for it. This person could be reckless, therefore Wildlife and elven lives are in danger. He shoved the fear aside, walking around the area and analyzing the bushes until he spots a disturbance. Some of them were trampled down or separated as if someone ran through them. Observing the broken twigs and the abnormal patterns of the bushes, he's found his trail, and with that, he ran after his culprit. He doesn't know who he'll see, but he hopes they can be talked down without violence. Either way, the forest could be in jeopardy and he cannot let that happen.

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival continued his blind march towards the sound of more Dreadlord training. From what he'd gathered intel wise; these bastards were nigh at war with the elves. Or at least a particular sect of them. What he was doing was right; just. He did not need to explain himself to anyone. He began to hear it, the scuffles of more combat. Orival kept his eyes steady for they will becoming blurs in his visions. These apprentices were faster than the last.

The pyromancer watched intently. Eventually, one headed his way. They were hidden from their allies in whatever training this was, but had fallen into his web. He lashed his hand forward, a flamed whip extending and wrapping around their neck. As he pulled them to the ground and turned them over his eyes were filled with surprise.

It was a girl. No older than fifteen. Terrified for her life at his own hands. What was the likelihood she knew of these adept Dreadlords he sought after? Low. Even he knew that. He released the whip, and wrote in flame:

"Do not speak of me. Return like nothing happened and you will be spared." Her eyes watched the flames written in the sky and nodded with only her life as her main concern. She fled from him as quickly and quietly as she could. He rubbed his head in disappointment. In himself and in the situation. He just wished he had some sort of way of knowing where to find the offenders.

Zier Xya Zythos

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

He doesn't know how long he was tracking this individual. The trees and shrubs seemed to stretch for hours. It could've have been that long, but the further he went, it almost seemed to get darker and darker. He debunked this as the massive leaves obscuring the sunlight. Apart from it giving him a false sense of time, it strengthened his determination. It reminds him of what he must have to potentially protect from this menace.

As he got closer, the trail eventually ends. Fuck! Then, he heard something odd. It sounded like a struggle, or a fighy, and it was quite a few of them. He didn't hear any screams of terror, so he can assume that a group of people are probably training nearby. Perhaps they know of a Pyromancer somewhere here.

He turned and took a step in the direction of the noises, stopping when he saw a person release a whip from a girls throat. A Whip made of flame. It was at that point that Zier realised that this is the person who killed those men. There's no doubt about it. Then, something interesting happened. The person wrote a message to girl in flames! Zier has read of the many uses and capabilites of fire, but he has no idea how that's done.

It appears that the girl will live, that's good. It means that they're not a senseless murderer and they has some sort of heart. He wishes he could tell the gender of this individual, but their clothes are making it difficult. Still! there's the culprit. He jumped out from the bushes, leaping straight over the person and landing in front of them, crouched. "I didn't enjoy the idea of randomly tracking a stranger through the forest, but I did it for a reason and I hope you can understand that reason." He said to them, standing up.

"You see, Sir... or ma'am... Pyromancy is banned in falwood because of an enormous fire that took place one hundred years ago. I didn't enjoy tracking you, but I also won't enjoy my home being burnt down. Those bodies were still hot, and sometimes they can still be flammable. I need you to cease the Pyromancy." He spoke to them calmly, and he didn't want to sound like he was forcing him, because he wasn't exactly doing that. Yet, it still sounded as if it was a peremptory command. It's imperative that this individual heed his words, for innocent lives could be at stake as a result of their actions.

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival looked onward at the Dreadlord trainees fleeing from his vision. He was beginning to think it unlikely for him to find who he was looking for here. The pyromancer sighed, defeated. He would have to find them somehow but gathering intel from someone other than the Dreadlord apprentices. Then, came someone else.

An elf exploded from the bushes, causing immense surprise in Orival as they landed in front of him. He immediately ignited his hand in green flame, ready to attack, but ceased it as soon as they started speaking. Orival's eyes looked uninterested. They spoke of one duty and showed no sign of listening to this new person, likely a person who lived here. He shook his head and rose his finger to the air. He began to write.

"I am in complete control of my flames. They will not spread unless I say so." He wiped away the sentence and wrote anew. "I suggest you don't involve yourself with my investigation. The Dreadlords will die and you cannot prevent that. Your forest is not in danger."

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

It was more mesmerizing to see them write in flames up close. He wishes he could do such a trick. They're statement brought rise to new questions. What did the Dreadlords do? What investigation? He should probably mind his business, but he couldn't resist asking them, plus killing isn't something Zier enjoys.

"Gods... why do the dreadlords have to die? I mean.. they have families too, right? Couldn't there be a harmless solution to whatever problem you have? You have plenty of options here instead of leaving a trail of charred bodies behind you." He'll have to tread lightly. Judging by the color of their flames, and by the way they use them, they're clearly adept in Pyromancy; maybe even as far as a master. He's only an intermediate, and he appears to be stuck there for whatever reason. "Taking lives couldn't be a good feeling... even if the person is absolutely fucked in the head."

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival shook his head again. This elf had good intentions at heart. He could see that much. But it was also glaringly obvious that he had no idea just what the Dreadlords were. As he was when he first encountered them at the circus. He rose his finger again;

"No, they do not have families. They are walking weapons used for Vel Anir's sake." He continued to draw in fire. "When you have seen them force a child from their mother and father in order to use their latent magic abilities as a weapon for Vel Anir, you can then speak to me on how many options I have to deal with them."

he looked towards the night sky. That girl, crying and screaming for her parents in this very forest would never leave his mind. The apprentices before him probably did not deserve their deaths but he wanted them to know he was hunting them. He looked back towards Zier, his finger waving once more.

"Perhaps you should educate yourself on who they really are. Until then, stay out of my way."

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

It is true. Zier does need to educate himself on various organizations. He listened intently at his words, and he found it heartbreaking that such things take place in Vel Anir. He's never been there because humans are the primary occupants, and some may hold disdain for elves. He took a few seconds to ponder what he's been told. It sounds horrific. He couldn't imagine being forcibly torn away from his family.

"Why go after the dreadlords then? Why not the people who took them from their families? They may be weapons, but they're still people and they're not fully responsible for the atrocities they've committed. Maybe some of them still remember their families and, despite their reforming, want to break away and find them one day." He can deduce that they will not, willingly, be given the option to go back their loved ones. Still, some of them may hold onto hope that they might. They have to; it's too emotional to just let go of through vigorous training. "You can't just murder them when it isn't their fault that they're weapons."

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival rolled his eyes. He knew it wasn't Zier's fault for his ignorance. Life in the wilds must be vastly different. Actually, he knew that far too well. His whole life spent in Shadokien led him to this point. His being sheltered pushed him to these very edges when it all came crashing around him. And now he finds this elf's moral stances tiresome? Something had become very wrong with Orival through these recent events. Yet he could not see that, what he saw was enemies all around him. Defilers of life. Ignoring that his own actions took away from it as well.

He raised his finger. "I cannot attack the direct state of Vel Anir without facing slaughter. They must be uprooted the hard way." His opposite hand ignited in blue flame while he continued to write. "You will eventually see what I do. As many have before myself. They will send their higher ups when they see the deaths of their subordinates. If you continue to plan to question me and stand in my way I will be forced to remove you."

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

Uprooted the hard way? Why does this person insist upon uprooting Vel Anir? With that, another question crossed his mind. His naturally inquisitive nature often comes off as an annoying interrogation, or that he's prying. He doesn't mean to pry; he strives understand the world outside Falwood and it's different organizations and people. He's only seen two Komodi up close!

He cannot contain himself, so he'll ask one final question before leaving this person to their business. Even through this person does not speak, Zier knew that their patience is dwindling even before they wrote their next sentence. I will be forced to remove you. Honestly, he wishes they meant under better circumstances. The way they efficiently communicate with their flame. The way they casually switch colors with elegance. Zier has always thought the power of Fire was beautiful, but with the way this individual uses it, he can easily be entranced within it for hours while he tries to understand how it works.

"Very well.. but I have one final question before I go. What did Vel Anir do to you? why do you despise them? I know some of them are very close minded but why do this." This is clearly the most personal question he's asked them. That being said, he won't ask any further even if they choose to answer or not. He may disagree with the way they handle this situation, but he acknowledges that they're still entitled to privacy.

 

[Orival Theodric]

This elf was in for a rude awakening. As Orival had been when he learned of it all. When he'd returned home and studied all he had. The truth he'd overturned. In reality, this person wasn't his enemy and he didn't want to hurt them for their ignorance. But to think that they would defend their own oppressor. No, that's not what they were doing. To do so you'd need to understand you were being oppressed.

Vel Anir had done nothing to Orival personally. They had dealt the world a hand that the dancer could not agree with and they had continued down a vile path for too long. He extinguished the flame in his hand and closed his eyes. Deep breaths, remembering that he does this for justice, and to repay the horrid favor they had unleashed upon this world.

He wrote once more. "I implore you, stranger. To go and gaze upon Vel Anir for yourself. A world built for war and conniving racist monopoly. I will not chase these Dreadlords anymore out of respect for you and your woods. Please go and see what it is I fight against."

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

He's always wanted to travel the world, as he has been currently, yet Vel Anir was never on the list. It may be closest to Falwood, but the deeply embedded Xenophobia was unnerving to him. He's been aware of it since him and his father endured quite too many judgmental looks as they visited when Zier was a boy. Since then, returning was never on the list. That being said, Zier isn't very enthusiastic about going back. Still, he wants to know why this person is fixated on destroying them.

He was relieved to see that they will no longer be littering his cherished forest with burnt bodies. His perspective on them has drastically changed. He thought they were a reckless Pryomancer filled with malice and hate. Even though they do kill, now he can see that they do have a heart and that they're capable of being respectful. A murderer who enjoyed setting a dreadlords head ablaze, watching them suffer, yet they can show respect for a person and their territory? It sounds like an odd combination.

Zier thought about it for a second, then, he made up his mind. "Alright, I'll check it out. I really don't want to, but I wish to know why you're trying to uproot Vel Anir." He didn't sound excited about it at all, he'll just get it out of the way. Perhaps he'll even learn something.

"Also, thank you for not defiling the forests beauty with corpses anymore." He took a sharp exhale, looking towards the sky. He doesn't know what he'll find, but he hopes it won't make him feel like killing anybody. "I guess I'll leave you to your business now- Wait, what's your name?" He could kick himself. He just can't seem to stop asking questions and this time it was another personal one. Although it's too late to reverse, he feels better about it because they're not on hostile terms anymore.

 

[Orival Theodric]

It was a weak promise, but a promise nonetheless. Having chosen his words carefully he did not lie to the elf. Orival would not follow these dreadlords any longer. But he would find others. And he would return to these woods when the elf wasn't here to coax him out of it. He was unprepared for this kind of gentle confrontation, but it was simply a roadblock.

He turned his body to the elf and lowered his face mask. Rugged stubble stained his chin and cheeks as he looked flushed by absolute rage and sadness. He couldn't give Zier his real name. He was far too unsure of who he could trust and this elf would try and stop him again if he reappeared at the same time.

He wrote; "Olivar" in the air. Close enough to the truth.

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

He wasn't expecting him to reveal his face, but he's glad he did; it means that they've established a form of trust. Apart from realising that his eyes were blue, ge saw that his was filled with sorrow? anger? He assumed that his face would be emotionless. The mystery surrounding his purpose here never ceases to puzzle him.

He killed for a serious reason, he does show mercy and he looks very emotional. These reasons are enough for Zier to feel compassion for him. He's obviously going through a struggle of sorts. He's not your typical murderer. He takes a few, small steps towards him. He doesn't want to appear threatening in the slightest.

"Nice to meet you, Olivar. My name's Zier. I'll scout Vel Anir shortly, but you look... very sad and angry.. are you doing alright?"

 

[Evangeline]

Smoke trailed in the air, the smell of charred flesh an assault on the senses. Evangeline had heard tales of a rogue pyromancer causing trouble for trainees in this part of the Falwood, that the man had even managed to inflict quite the wounds on the infamous Weiroon illusionist, Ania. She hadn't gathered that he would still be alive, however, much less still antagonizing Anirian forces unchecked. He wasn't exactly difficult to find, the way he left a trail of death and destruction in his wake. Even a very careful pyromancer tended to leave bits of ash and seared foliage here and there, and this one was leaving corpses.

Had he been assailing full-fledged dreadlords from the other houses, Evangeline might not have been inclined to intervene. To her horror, however, she had found the still smoking remains of a Pirian trainee roughly an hour ago. Now she was absolutely livid. It was a difficult thing, trying to balance her calm, collected tracking of the pyromancer with her unrelenting desire to strike him down for his misdeeds. His punishment would be inevitable now, she reminded herself.

In time, she began to hear an unfamiliar voice as she followed the trail of carnage. A man seemed to be having a one-sided conversation on ahead. Evangeline approached carefully and, peering through brush, found an elf speaking to a robed figure who wrote words with fire in the air. Her quarry. The letters he wrote were proof enough that he was the one responsible for these gross wrongdoings. Evangeline stepped forward from the foliage; there would be no need for any sort of surprise attack.

"He's about to be doing much worse." The Dreadlord interjected, striding confidently towards the pair. Many of her comrades would not have done either the service of announcing their presence; in fact, most of them would've simply cut down the elf for the fun of it. "Do pardon my intrusion, elf, but I have business with this criminal. Stand aside."

Evangeline turned her attention to the robed figure, steely gaze falling upon him. There was no anger in her cold, blue eyes now, only righteous resentment.
"As for you, pyromancer," She announced, unsheathing her bastard sword from her side. "I will dispense justice upon you. In the name of Lord Tobias Pirian of Vel Anir, I sentence you to death."

 

[Orival Theodric]

Orival was indeed angry, and sad. The entire concept of the Dreadlords made no sense in his eyes. And once they were weaponized they were no longer people to him. Just threats that stood to cause fear in others. He had no choice but to view them as opposition didn't he? Who wouldn't? How could anyone see what these bastards did and find any good in them?

"No." He wrote plainly. "I won't be until all the children of Vel Anir are free from this burden of turning into more of them." It felt as if it was similar to zombies. If it is prevented that is best possible outcome. Yet if they are turned there is no hope left for them and must be destroyed. The gymnastics his mind did would be concerning to all who could hear them.

Then came the second voice. A gorgeous woman. Donning armor of silver to match her hair. Her words gave away just who she was though. His eyes narrowed and he lifted his face mask back up. He drew his staff from his back and raised a finger to Evangeline.

"I wonder what took you so long, Dreadlord. Your sentence is the same." He then grabbed the floating fire out of the air to form a long javelin out of the words, and hurled it at Evangeline with all his might.

Zier Xya Zythos Evangeline

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

It was another piece of the puzzle filled. His great solicitude towards the liberation of Vel Anirs children was heart warming yet saddening to hear. The more he thought about what he's been told, the more righteous it seemed to him, enlightening even. In his eyes, killing isn't the way to solve it, but he also doesn't have the answer.

"Well, I thi-" He was interrupted-- quite rudely-- by a women emerging from the brushes, and she didn't come for a nice chat like him and Olivar had. She appeared of... high stature. The way she carried herself with the upmost dignity. Her commanding, determined tone and equanimous demeanor indicated that she's a formidable threat, and she dressed to kill.

She must be one of the higher ups he was told about earlier. The murder of a sentient creature isn't something he agrees on, but this is certainly a cause he can get behind, provided that he doesn't have to take a life. Olivar isn't exactly a friend, yet, but he isn't a foe at all. In fact he's gained an ally.

Zier drew his draconic blade, leaping next to Olivar and taking a stance beside him. He's a teenager, sure, but he's dedicated a few years of life to mastering the blade. It's an art and a passion to him. When Olivar hurled a javelin of fire at her, Zier didn't move. He won't go on the offensive unless necessary. He'll analyze her and wait.

 

[Evangeline]

Beasts did tend to fight for their lives when cornered, and this pyromancer was no exception. His words hung visibly in the air, a clear signal that he would not die quietly. When the flaming javelin came, Evangeline was ready for it. Her own magic engaged and she shifted a few meters to the left of where she stood, dodging the javelin entirely.

"Predictable." She retorted flatly. If this was all he had to offer then this would be over quickly and simply. Perhaps Ania had merely been caught off guard...then again, she was a Third Level, and perhaps relied too heavily on her illusions to get her way.

Evangeline was poised to strike when the elf--a remarkably tall fellow--took up arms and stood astride the pyromancer. She planted her heels into the ground and took a defensive stance. Pointing her blade out at the duo, she addressed the swordsman.
"This doesn't concern you, elf. I have no quarrel with you, but if you wish to live then stay out of my way."
She didn't feel a need to explain herself further, but given that the two had apparently been conversing for some time before she arrived there was a chance that the elf was either being deceived or was an accomplice to the other's crimes. The Second Level wished to discern which was correct.

"The man you stand beside has slain initiates of House Pirian. They are the future of the last bastion of honor and morality in Vel Anir." Evangeline explained, eyes scanning both men for any sign of aggressive movement. If one tried to catch her off guard she would be ready. "Would you obstruct justice?"

 

[Orival Theodric]

Perhaps that's exactly what had become of Orival; a beast. One reveling in the slaughter of its prey and taking no precautions to what could be its own predator. It was to no surprise of his that she avoided the javelin of flame. He dispersed it before it could cause any damage to the forest. As to Zier's reaction...

It was perfect. Many underestimated how much of an advantage a second opportunity was. To defeat one much stronger than yourself you must first know the capabilities of your opponent. He was keen on thinking she was stronger than him. Despite his training, it was never intended for combat. But fire itself was a weapon. His creativity could bring her down. He swore it to himself. The truth behind that was not something he could prove. But confidence was key. His face swelled into a terrifying smile behind his face mask, and took the chance that Zier had provided him.

Orival engulfed himself in flames, and flicked a few sparks in front of Zier that formed words.

"You don't have to die here."

The flames surrounding Orival spread into a ring around the three of them, camouflaging himself within them. He re-positioned himself to her right, and flung a whip of fire to bind Evangeline's leg.

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

"Yep." He said firmly, giving it no thought. It's not like he has obstructed justice before. Although, those were incidents. "I don't agree with how he kills, but i don't agree with how you monsters force children away from their parents either." He feels that both sides actions are appalling, but with both of them against each other, Olivar's goal aligns more towards Zier's morals.

He glanced at Olivar as he was enveloped in flames, then the words appeared. "It's nice to hear that you assume I'm going to die." No one wants to hear that-- or see it. Especially a trained swordsman. Frankly, it's insulting. It probably wasn't meant like that, but it's how he took it. Yet, if it was meant that way, He understands why; he doesn't really look like a person with any magical capabilities.

"Actually, this concerns me a lot." He says to her, sheathing his blade after Olivar disappeared in the flame ring and reappeared with a flame whip. "You assume you can come into MY forest, MY home with your Dreadlords and cause touble? I hope you didn't assume this would be a fight you'd win." He doesn't know why these dreadlords take up residence in falwood. People as malefic as them have no purpose here. This is a place of peace, not war and killing.

He raised both arms upward in a semicircular motion, drawing a portion of the flames from Orivals ring towards him and near chest level. The ball (basketball sized) turned blue, becoming dense and glowing brightly.

He's a Pyromancer as well, and he tends to keep that concealed to maintain the element of surprise. He shot both arms out towards her, sending the ball her way. He doesn't want to kill her at all, so if a direct impact was made, it wouldn't burn her. It'd probably just send her back against a tree and, thanks to the human body being remarkably frail, and to Olivars flame whip restraining her leg, knock her unconscious. Zier knows this outcome is highly unlikely and that it would take much more than a minor fireball to end this.

 

[Alakir]

The hastily mobilized regiment of Guard were already marching at twice the standard pace. They had been sent at the urgings of House Pirian to reinforce the investigation into attacks on Dreadlords in the Falwood. When they saw two forms splayed in the grass, and the flames that rose from the wood itself, they knew they were in the right place.

"Quickly, tend to those men," Alakir pointed toward the bodies, still uncertain about their well-being. Even if they were dead, they were Vel Anirian. They would not be left to rot on foreign soil.

The two other Guardsman hurried to the fallen Dreadlords, lower rank by the look of them, and dragged them toward the path. They needed to be out from harm's way.

Upon closer investigation, Alakir saw her. Evangeline, the Dreadlord from House Pirian, and the woman they had been sent to assist. "You lot secure the perimeter, make sure no one escapes without clearance from the Lady Evangeline."

He hated the idea of playing subordinate to a Dreadlord; but the orders today came directly from the very top of their society. A Guardsman simply did not step out of line under such circumstances. Not without grave consequence.

The Pyromancers (there were two of them!) were already ahead of themselves. Flames were assailing the wood. Dried out grass turned gold, then black where the heat licked it. Trees crackled and lurched in protest as their bark blackened.

"Typical," he muttered. "Mages with no respect for the power they have."

The closest tree had grayed and blackened hideously. He could smell the life burning out from it. With a spinning step, he tore the Halberd from his back and eased the lumbering titan toward its final resting place.

With a loud crack, the head of his weapon struck true. The tree groaned and creaked in half-hearted defiance before his effort finally bore fruit. It wasn't a clean cut. The tree was only halfway compromised by his motion.

The fire carried it the rest of the way. It twisted in its descent, falling toward the three combatants with the hope of at the very least catching them off their guard. With magicians, it was important to outthink them. If the playing field isn't even...

You level it.

 

[Evangeline]

An arena of the pyromancer's own making encircled the trio. Odd that the fire mage had been so careful as to not let his flaming spear strike the trees, and then carelessly immolated their surroundings--and himself. If desperation had a distinct look, this was it. Nonetheless, the tactic was a clever one. Attempting to disguise his movements would be a very useful trick when your opponent thus far had only shown herself capable of dodging your attacks. Speed alone was not Evangeline's only ally, however.

The second level immediately dropped to one knee and placed her free hand on a root that stuck out of the ground near her. "Grow!"
Near instantly, the root sprouted in to a shell of thick, sinewy vines around her. They wouldn't last long given plant matter's flammability, but they'd be enough to stop Orival's fiery lash.

"Actually, this concerns me a lot."

How dreadfully unsurprising. If this elf wanted to rush to his own death while preaching of things he knew nothing about, Evangeline would gladly play her role.
"You know," She shouted from within her improvised barricade, "Ordinarily it's dishonorable to fight two against one."

For an apparent swordsman, the elf's spell left him remarkably wide open. By the time Zier's fireball struck where she was standing, blasting the wooden shell to pieces, Evangeline was already in his face with her blade at his throat. Humorous that he had only just taunted her about losing this fight.
"But given the obvious gap in skill, I'm willing to make an exception."

Alas, the distinct cracking of a falling tree was enough of a distraction to prevent her from delivering a quick finishing blow. Evangeline's eyes darted left just in time to see the oak falling her way. Acceleration kicked in once again and the Dreadlord repositioned safely out of its path, just in time to see Alakir stepping into the ring.
"You know," Evangeline scolded him with a half smile. "It's rather rude to interrupt a lady."

 

[Orival Theodric]

Zier's assistance was appreciated, but the Dreadlord wasn't kidding. His whip connected with her newfound armor and ignited it. It did not stop her whatsoever. A clenched fist from inside the flaming circle showed his growing frustration. Orival could not put together what her ability was or how many she had and the combo of moves she'd demonstrated proved that she was not going to go down easy. Or perhaps not even before he would. Her eyes were locked on Zier as she stood to his throat but Orival froze. He could attack her from behind but so many signals fired in his head.

She's prepared for it.
She's using this as bait.
Don't overthink it
Kill her.
What if she kills me?

These thoughts plagued his mind. And in the time it took him to concoct a healthy plan, another interloper appeared. Orival peered behind him to see an enormous tree cascading towards the three of them. He was forced to leap from the fire to outside of the circle in order to avoid becoming human paste. His eyes met Alakir's. An Anirian, no doubt. There was no signs of his ties to the Dreadlords but the reaction from Evangeline gave the impression they were no foes. Shit. This was growing ever more treacherous. Panic overwhelmed bloodlust.

The young man's sense of justice was snuffed out in seconds once he realized just how outclassed he was. Just like last time.

Orival ran.

 

[Zier Xya Zythos]

He's overconfident. Arrogant. Like many teenagers, those two qualities can lead you on a path to failure and in Ziers case, a swift demise. He took blasting her defenses as a victory of sorts, allowing Orival to attempt another attack, but that never worked out. In seconds, Evangeline already had her blade pressed against his throat. How... does she...

Zier was bewildered, and petrified. His heart was pounding so loud he wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it. Yet, the cut of her sword might have been more bearable than his earlier taunt ironically backfiring on him. His body ran cold as he glanced at Orival, hoping he'd try something and bail him out. Although he didn't need to. A tree did just that by fortuitously landing in their direction, and he evaded the tree by dashing to the side. Unfortunately, she did the same, and she was talking with Another fucking dreadlord?!? He has no idea who this new person is, but since they're busy conversing, maybe him and Orival could do some damage!

Commanding the flames from the fallen tree over to his hands, he looked for Orival, who has vanished from the ring of flames. No matter. He's probably just planning another sneak attack! Sadly, that wasn't the case. He was gone for too long. "Olivar-..." He called out to his ally, but it was more of a barely audible whimper.

The flames he held extinguished, and so did his hope of winning. It was at that moment he realised that the forest was burning.. it's exactly what he didn't want! He was conflicted. Who does he be mad at? Orival, Evangeline or himself? Orival had told him that he didn't need to die here, yet he shoved the natural instinct of self preservation aside to assist him because he knew she'd be tough to beat

and what did this bastard do!?! He fucking abandoned me..

Zier can also direct his anger at himself. He was arrogant and, as Evangeline said and demonstrated, Outclassed. He should've listened to her and ran, but no, he chose to help fight. FUCK! He couldn't give them the slip like Orival did; they're right there and they'll see him leave.

WHAT was I thinking?!? AIDING and LISTENING to a murderer???

He could cry if he wasn't in hostile company. His forest is burning and he can only think as to what Orival wrote earlier: I am in complete control of my flames. Yet he lit it ablaze. He took a step back, wanting to camouflage himself within the ring and disappear, but he knew that it would be impossible. He should've driven Orival away when he met him, then none of this would've happened. Being confronted with mortality has taught him something...

Murderers, under no circumstances, are never to be trusted. He only wishes that he'll live to apply that lesson...

 

[Alakir]

Alakir tore his Halberd out from the tree as Evangeline confronted the Elf head on. Strips of bark exploded out around him as he brought the weapon around and twisted to put the enemy in front of him. The flames raged all around, contorting the forest into a world of madness. He caught the gaze of Orival Theodric amid the chaos, the one they'd been sent to apprehend.

At that moment, the Lady Evangeline chided him for his interruption with a smirk. "Beg pardon, my lady," he called back. He would have made a witty comment himself, but the rogue Pyromancer broke into flight. "Shit," he turned to call out to the other two Guardsmen. "Don't let that man escape!" he barked.

Alakir knew that if the man unleashed his flames again, it was unlikely the other two stood a chance.

The Knife-ear was under control. It was up to him to give chase, and he was already lagging behind. The Guardsman swung his Halberd around and returned it to his back as he broke into a run.

Both the other Guards hurried to throw themselves into Orival's way. They were visibly shaken from what they had seen done to the fallen Dreadlord initiates, but they knew their duty to Vel Anir was worth their lives. The cost of freedom was, at times, paid in blood.