[center][h2][color=0054a6]Witch[/color][/h2]
[i]Level 1 (4/10 EXP)
Location: Meridi-at-Han
Word Count: 1295 (3 exp gained)[/i]
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Those bugs had proven cleverer than the Witch had given them credit for. She’d thought they’d be distressed—what with their sacred big top burning down and their patrons placed in harm’s way—but no such scruples weighed down the good critters of the Grimm Troupe. A ruined tent could simply be remade, and what did a few dead civilians matter to a circus that could pull up roots and be gone from the city within a day?

All that truly mattered were the performers, and the source of their dark power. The Troupe clearly recognized this fact, and the Witch almost admired the cold-hearted purpose with which they acted upon it. If only it hadn’t put her in such a vexing situation, torn between a goal that was slipping out of reach and the fresh temptations of a disaster in the making.

Even without her nose for trouble, she could hardly have missed the three enormous beasts clambering over the plateau’s edge with mayhem on their minds. All those pretty, colorful buildings, about to be knocked over like toys by an oversized monkey—the Witch had to cover her mouth at the thought, unable to suppress her laughter. Oh, all the precious things she’d be able to loot from the wake of their rampages, all the fantastic materials she might scavenge from their corpses! It very nearly made her forget that pretty red lantern entirely, and throw herself straight into the oncoming chaos.

…Unfortunately for everyone, she was a little too greedy for that. Whyever, she asked herself, should a spot of inconvenient timing keep her from having [i]both[/i] of the things she wanted? The bulk of the Grimm Troupe seemed to have been distracted by the monsters, and the presence of a few guards around her goal only made it all the more tempting to the Witch. If she moved quickly, before the rest of the bugs took notice, she could come out of this with both the lantern in hand and some more loyal servants to throw into the wider battle.

Under cover of smoke, she crept once again into the thick of the wagons. It would be difficult to pass entirely unseen, but not many of the remaining Troupe members would be able to tell her apart from any other fleeing audience member, and their indifference here became a double-edged sword. None of them sought to assist or entertain her now, for why would they care? The show was over, and the hive would likely soon be leaving down.

So it was that she limped out of the murk into the view of the lantern’s three guardians, her cheeks stained by soot and her breath as ragged as her garb. [color=0054a6]“H… Help…”[/color] She reached one arm pathetically out towards them, as though to beseech their aid.

The ruse was broken in a moment, as her gesture revealed the wand in her grip just in time for her to finish casting her spell. A fireball slammed straight into the nearest of the cloaked guardians, and the Witch’s pleading expression instantly dissolved into the wicked smile of a well-practiced murderess.

It fell again a moment later, when she saw that her target had not fallen howling in agony. In fact, it was still on its feet, and prowling towards her unhindered by the fire raging across its clothes. The Witch’s bright blue eyes went wide, and she had just enough time to spit out a decidedly non-magical curse word before the creature raised its scarlet torch and sent a flame of its own hurtling back her way.

The sorceress threw herself to one side, scrambling like a rat across the paving stones. It should have been enough to avoid the burning projectile, had the damned thing not curved about in midair and smashed itself against her regardless. The impact sent a shock reverberating through her energy shield, the edge of her barrier briefly outlined where it had stopped the attack mere inches from her fragile form.

The guardian raised its torch for another attack, but with its focus on the Witch it failed to see the shadow rushing at it through the smoke. The zombie burst forth with rotten arms outstretched and barreled straight into its enemy, its sheer momentum taking them both to the ground in a tangle of flailing limbs. Within moments, the two were tearing at one another in a mad frenzy of aggression, flecks of blood and chunks of flaming cloth scattered this way and that around their battle.

The Witch’s wand flicked this way and that, a translucent bolt of pure kinetic energy let loose with every motion. Each strike met its mark and briefly staggered its target, but with two shadowy opponents bearing down on her at once she couldn’t keep either fully at bay. A fresh fireball crackled her way, and exploded against the side of a wagon as the girl ducked behind it to catch her breath.

[color=0054a6][i]What foul luck, that I’d end up against creatures too rude to scream as they burn.[/i][/color] Trying to bring them down with fire would just be a waste of mana, and her standard attacks weren’t powerful enough to bring them down. To make matters worse, she had at best a minute before that stick-thin ringleader showed up with reinforcements to put an end to her for good. The Witch’s smile grew wider, not out of happiness but out of pure spite and desperation. If she couldn’t have her way here, then she’d just have to set it all alight, and make do with the satisfaction of ruining those who’d stood against her.

As the wagon shook with a fresh impact, she raced out into the open with her wand already alight. Flames swirled, converged, and flew through the air in the blink of an eye—but not towards either of the two guardian shadows. Instead the killing light bore down on the wrought-iron wagon and its veil of black cloth, aimed dead-center for where she knew the lantern rested.

It did not find its mark. Acting upon a duty that took precedence over their own lives, both of the cloaked defenders threw themselves into the spell’s path and took its full impact upon their own forms. Once again, their bodies withstood the fire’s loving caress, but this time the Witch was ready. Before either enemy could recover, she struck each one with a fresh kinetic attack, pressing her narrow-won advantage without a moment’s pause.

At that moment, the wheels on the iron wagon began to turn. Even the Grimmsteed understood the importance of protecting the Nightmare Lantern, and after such a close call it wasn’t going to stick around to see how the fight turned out. With all its scuttling strength, it dragged its precious cargo away from the fiery clash and into the city streets, where it might find refuge from all the madness and chaos unfolding at every turn.

The Witch was in no position to follow. Her opponents were on their feet again, and now oversized worms had spilled out from their guts, writhing and twisting in the air. The sorceress warily backed away, wand at the ready—but her grin seemed calmer now, more self-assured. Even if her prize had escaped her this time, she no longer had immediate cause to fear for her life.

Her zombie shambled up to her side, strands of torn-up wormflesh dangling from its ravaged form. A half-second’s casting later, and another rose to join it, torn from the body of the first guardian like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. The Witch stood back, nodding in approval, and let them advance in tandem to finish the bloody work she had begun.

Four would do nicely, to start with.