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Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

With a faint hiss the spark caught the kindling, the little pinprick of flame as bright as the stars in the darkness of night. With careful handling Yvonne kindled it further, until it gave rise to ember and from ember into a proper campfire. It'll still gradually rise over the next few minutes as it consumed the wood, but now it was sufficient to try save the wounded elf.

And boy, that wound didn't look good at all.

"You almost got ran through, didn't you?" She couldn't fully conceal the worry in her voice, quickly unrolling the aforementioned medkit. Yvonne stared at the stuff in a few seconds, recognizing the more normal items but some were practically alien to her. Still, the whole array looked and smelled like how medical supply should be. She certainly had worked with worse, patching wounded men with little beyond repurposed fishing supplies. "You'll get through this, Sparky. I've seen people recovers from worse."

It was an honest opinion, from someone who had seen more wounds than most people. That kind of wound looked rather bad, but it didn't strike anything vital. Maybe clipped the liver, which would hurt like a motherfucker, but that isn't fatal. Plus, Sparky's surprisingly resilient. It'll be fine, as long as Yvonne didn't screw up. So, no pressure there. None at all.

She wish Solomon was here.

Taking a deep breath, Yvonne steadied herself as she removed her gauntlets. Let's get this over, yeah? Sooner everything's treated, the sooner she'll get to rest.

"Hookay, lets do this. Tell me how to use these stuff."

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

Hmm. Not dont want to, but cant? Allergy or something? Well, Yvonne personally would prefer risking the allergy than bleeding out from a literal hole in her torso, buuuut Sparky knows herself best. Hopefully. If it save her the potion, she's not complaining.

"Choking is safer than blunt trauma, you know." Yvonne quipped with a hint of disapproval, but didn't dwell on the topic. She stood up with a groan, carefully propping the elf as she belted her mace again. "But whatever. Good idea, Airy. Maybe keep his arm somewhere, Solomon can probably reattach it."

Half-blind, the two of them hobbled excruciatingly slowly toward the remnant camp of the gate guards. Why'd they set up in the middle of the damn field, she had no idea. Perhaps they realized how futile it was, watching over this much stretch of land with so few people, and have decided to just fuck it and camp in the middle. Regardless, it's right where it stayed.

The fire had long since doused, obviously, but there's still some small collection of firewood and Yvonne wouldn't mind tossing a bedroll or two to keep it going. At first she had intended to grab one of it for Sparky to lay on at, but the stench of sweat and dirt immediately made her reconsider the decision. Odds are the wound would get infected just by touching the damn thing... sighing loudly, she unclasped her cloak and lay it flat on the ground. There's definitely a bunch of tears and blood on it by now, but somehow it's by far the cleanest piece of fabric within reach.

They're so doomed.

"Stay down and keep pressure on the wound, I'll get the fire started. Then we can see how badly you've got fucked over." Reaching for the other side of her belt, Yvonne fiddled a bit to release a water canteen and a silver flask before handing it to the elf. "Water and hard liquor. You'll probably need it."

Now, the firestarter... Thank the quartermaster for drilling the habit of carrying emergency supplies. Gathering what little bit of dried straw and branches, Yvonne hunched over the still-warm remnant of campfire as the rhythmical tapping of flint and steel rang across the night.

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

Yet another interruption. Yvonne flinched at the grab, turning around with a snarl, only for her sails to deflate at the sight of Jazdia's pale and bloodied figure. Sparing Jonas one last glance, she scoffed and let go as she stood back up and did her best to wipe the bloodsmear off her arm.

It didn't help by much.

"A few more seconds and he'd go to sleep. If I want him dead, I would've caved his head in." For all the complaint she uttered, she did stopped choking the old man. Now he's slumped on the ground wheezing, looking nothing like the striking figure he was a few minutes prior. "His arm needs treatment, but to hell with that. How in the world are you still standing?" A hand went for the potion belt, thumbing the lids to identify the content. "I have potions. It's nasty, but it does the job-"

To think that her supply of healing potion will be gone after the first battle. This certainly wasn't how Yvonne envisioned her mission.

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

"I'm a bit busy at the moment." Yvonne remarked, turning her head only to wince when even that simple motion pulled her muscles the wrong way. Still keeping her hand on Jonas until he pass out, the mercenary saw the squire's blunted blade and gestured at the grounded sword with her chin. "Use this if you have to."

Well, at least the battle's over now. She idly wondered how the infiltration team fared. Surely they've found Cedar by now?

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

And just like that, a star - a legend - have fallen. A flicker of weakness where his magic fails him, one that Yvonne capitalized as she sliced through the half-formed protection like hot knife through butter. The relic blade of the Rosenving remained as sharp as the day it left the forge, cleanly taking off the arm that was raised to block. A blow to the head immediately followed up, with only the barest bit of awareness to hold back lest she pulverized his entire face.

There she stood, breathing heavily, the red receding as she gazed down on the broken form of the old knight. A triumphant moment soured by a resurfacing memory. Of a greying man with gnarled, trembling hands and wobbly legs, who find little comfort in doing nothing at all. His lips dry, face withered, with liver spots mottling his head...

...and still enough skill to slay men a third his age in a single flourish.

"I realized a long time ago that, when you become someone of my reputation, any route to death is going to be a disappointing one. They'll write it in the books how someone below my stature slew the great swordmaster. It's hogwash. If you want the truth I'll tell ya. I fear what I know is coming. That my body will betray me in the last moments. With time at its side, my body is what is going to kill me. The knee will lock, the grip will loosen, the shoulder will weaken. For all my speed and instinct it was time that has crept upon me, slow and steady, with no heat nor cold to give it away, it simply was and is and will be. I always thought I'd be bested by another swordsman. Someone of talent. But I suppose I was too good for that."

Yvonne blinked, the red rapidly receding from her sight, and the ache started to made themselves known. Her gaze fell on her sword-arm, shaking in barely perceptible tremor, before shifting to the sorry sight of Jonas Delving sprawled before her. It's always a cycle, wasn't it? And one day, she too will be on the receiving end of all this.

"...time to sleep, old man."

She stepped on his remaining good hand, pressing down her knee on the armored form of his chest. Her sword find its way to the ground, rivulets of crimson barely perceptible in the dark of the night, her freed hand going to the artery at the side of his neck. She applied pressure, firmly and carefully, not relenting until she choke the consciousness out of the old man.

Afterward, perhaps she should see to his bleeding stump.

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

Dance, dance, dance of violence. Like a dervish of steel Yvonne relentlessly pressed her assault, all focus fully locked on putting out the sole blinding light in a world of red. Dull clang of steel on a shield of light, followed by the latter morphing into a blade. Raise the mace to block, a momentary clash of strength where she refused to relent.

Delving pulled back upon flanking, followed by the dull crack of an explosion. Her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, Yvonne charged forward before the dust even settled as her visage perpetually twisted into a savage rictus. Yet even under such state there's clarity within her mind, likely even clearer than her usual state. No superficial thoughts, no distraction, blaze to create a path to victory. Nothing else mattered.

His attack was unnaturally swift thanks to his magic, but he was regardless still be hit from anyone outside of his focus. It meant his reaction speed couldn't keep up. An advantage she fully intended on exploiting.

She will feint as she approached his reach, abruptly changing direction to circle to his back from where she'd launch another flurry of blows. To occupy his attention so that her allies can land their hits instead of claiming the killing blow herself.

Tick tock, old man. How long can your body keep up with this?

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

Godspit, what was this motherfucker's noggin made of? She had put enough strength to punch through a coat of plates and out of the other side, and it barely made a crack. Must be some magic bullshit at work. A better way to deliver the force was needed, and it happen that the ridiculous lightshow offered an opportunity...

Kicking the dazed berserker's foot from under him, Yvonne followed by pushing the handle of her sword down until it caught the head between it and the packed earth. With an enraged yell she drove her armored fist down, this time there's nowhere for the force to bleed out - it'll all go straight to the skull. And through.

Her muscles ached dully, a sensation that she knew would turn into full-bout of debilitating once the bloodlust ran its course. But that's something for future Yvonne to worry about. A triumphant laughter rang as she ripped out the blade out of the stubborn foe, red haze coloring the edge of her vision as her eyes burned the same shade of crimson. Without much delay she set her sight on the brightest motherfucker in a hundred miles, charging forward at a pace more befitting of a galloping warhorse than a human her size.

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

The entire place was a complete chaos, but Yvonne thrived in chaos. Rapidly adapting to the changing circumstances was the key to survival, and she had plenty experience in those. Pressing onto Delving was an option, but Kitty and Sparky got him mostly covered at the moment. Instead her attention switched to the ice wizard with terrible aim, and the enraged thing trying to rip his face off.

Within a heartbeat she was on to the berserker, a hand halfway through the blade in a half-sword stance. Recalling the sensation of hitting metal from the bardiche strike earlier... she'll need to go for the softest part.

Her internal strength welling to the limit, Yvonne struck it slightly behind the temple where the skull was the weakest. If that wasn't enough she'd pull back her right hand and punched it again at the rounded pommel, hammering it in as many times as it took until it break through and smash the brain. So what if its bones were as strong as steel? She's perfectly capable of crushing steel.

"We'll have a long talk when we're done here."

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

Yvonne had some snappy replies, but then a few things happened at once. Delving caught an arrow glowing a particularly angry shade of amethyst, and she knew exactly what that could do. Then there's something furry brushing against her leg, the mercenary almost jumping out of her skin at the sudden intrusion before realizing the presence of a... cat.

What.

Nevertheless, the touch brought a wave of strange calm across her as the heat of the battle seemingly faded away. On top of that, the cat went and morphed into the figure of that spear-wielding woman from their team earlier. There's so many things to ask here, but the fight took priority. Questions can be saved for later.

Hobbling back on her left leg, she planted her sword on the ground with the injured one extended. She momentarily winced at the amount of blood pooling where she stood, the boot and greave completely covered in thick crimson. The flesh and muscles of the calf itself was near completely shorn, if the lighting was good she'd probably get to see the bone.

Every second was precious, so Yvonne tapped some strength boost to snap the leather straps and wrench the damaged greave off. Part of the pants followed, ripped asunder to fully expose the wound. At the last step she took the fleshknit flask, pausing a moment to recognize the shape, then wrenched off the silver cap to get at the content. With one hand she carefully held her savaged calf together, the pain blinding despite her tolerance, carefully pouring the content into the gash as steady as possible.

It stung like a motherfucker. Worse than getting hewn open in the first place. The process burned like molten metal was poured into the wound, spreading fire through her veins and nerves, alongside the disgusting squelching noise of flesh unnaturally mending and rebuilding itself. She stifled her scream through gritted teeth, the silver flask deforming under her grip as the last of the precious liquid left the vessel.

Abruptly, the pain ceased. Breathing heavily and drenched in sweat as if she had just ran ten miles without a break, Yvonne grasped her sword and propped herself up with the tremble of a newborn deer. And yet despite the swaying and lightheadedness, her eyes burned a malevolent crimson as she rejoined the ongoing battle.

"...should've killed me when you got the chance, old man."

Now she's pissed off.

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

She had expected a few ways the next few seconds turn around. Perhaps it was a feint and old Delving will pull back and try to skewer her. He could try punch her away with the shield. Or use whatever flashing means he previously did to regain the distance. Heck, she even kept half an eye toward the berserkers just in case.

What she didn't expect was a heavy blow taking her right on the calf, fatally breaking her ongoing rhythm.

"GAH what the fuck-" She lost her footing for a moment, a vulnerable lul that could've gotten her skewered if the old man pressed his attack. She had thought that the bastard somehow managed to outplay her, but then he stepped back and glared with severe disapproval. It came as a surprise to him too, then. Yvonne risked a glance as she steadied on her good leg, finding the pale spear that nicked her rather bad.

...bad wasn't sufficient to describe it, honestly. It all but punched through flesh and part of the greaves, just a bit off and she'd probably need to reattach the whole limb. She certainly cant move her foot, the tendon connecting to it completely cut. Fucking great.

"Dead gods. If you cant shoot straight, dont shoot at all!" Still, what's done is done. Better worry about the next five minutes. In precarious balance Yvonne remained in place, sword forward and blazing amber eyes locked at the Delving patriarch. She needed a chance to apply the potion, but there's no guarantee her foe will give her the chance. If he break the flasks, then she's well and truly cooked.