Nabarra and Nimueh
Time: 9:00 AM
Location: Roshmi City Greenhouse & Rooftops
Interactions: Ourselves, bitch
Mentions: Ourselves, bitch
Equipment:
Nabarra watched the man struggle with his conscience before taking his hand off his sword and rolling his shoulders. She relaxed. She let the tension shed from her jaw and fists, flexing and relaxing to break free. She shifted her weight onto her left hip and started wiping the sweat off her head. That was too close. "Name's Nabarra by the way. Do ya know somewhere I can get a fuckin' -"
A sharp pain exploded in her right hip. An arrow clattered off the cobbles on the ground next to her. She noted the direction the man was looking in. That and the direction the arrow came from... the rooftops. Instinct took over as she made a dive-roll towards her weapons, scooping up her dagger and jamming it between her teeth.
She took off like an arrow. Ironic.
She ran to the closest wall, building momentum, speeding up into it. Her next step landed on the wall. She shot up and out, towards the opposite wall, grabbing at a ledge. The sharp movements caused the cut to burn. It seared through her mind. Drove her rage. Energised her. She pushed off the wall with all four limbs, leaping upwards, grasping onto the tiled roof above and hauling herself up. Now, crouched on the rooftops, she looked around for whoever shot at her.
Another arrow flew for her. “Shit.” Nimueh hissed under her breath as she nocked another and moved away from the ledge. Lunathea cursed her. The first should should’ve been near fatal. Instead her prey was drawing closer. She had no traps here. Only her knives. Had she underestimated Nabarra after all? No, no she would kill her and make her father proud!
Nabarra heard an arrow whizzing past and pivoted. There. Across the gap. A dark elf. Another fucking bounty hunter - her rage rose. Without hesitation she jumped, taking off with both feet, drawing her dagger mid-air. She landed on the opposite roof and used all the momentum from her jump to explode straight into a run.
Another arrow flew from Nimueh. It struck Nabbara in the upper arm. Nimueh threw her bow away then. It was useless anyway. With her twin knives drawn she charged forward. Her blood boiled but her eye was on the one knife of Nabarra. Once close she leapt forward like a spider for its prey. Trying to bite down with her daggers into Nabarra’s clavicles, but Nabarra was quick and stopped in her tracks. Nimueh fell short, but rolled back on her feet.
Nabarra stepped off to the left, not far, but enough. She lashed out for the other woman with a precise lunge, aiming for where the roll would take her. Nimueh spun to the right. The hit caught her cheek. The huntress yelped in pain but turned to face Nabarra again. Hate raged in her eyes. Personal hate. She rushed forward, getting close to Nabarra. Slashing at the raider’s knife to block it, while she tried to stab into the abdomen.
Nabarra pulled her knife from its path and changed tack, ducking down and off to the side, lowering her center of gravity. The jab missed her abdomen, but cut into her upper shoulder. Her left arm reached to the rear of Nimueh’s knee and her right arm reached up to catch the left arm arm and lock it against her back. She drove her left shoulder towards Nimueh’s hip, aiming to destabilise.
From spider to bug, Nimueh found herself caught. Panic overtook her. No, she would not end it like this! She would destroy Nabarra. With a clang she dropped her left dagger and pulled back to slash at Nabarra. As her arm moved shadows and blackness followed, going straight for her grappler. Halfway through the slash the darkness burned away in the sun.
This changed the plan. Slightly.
Nabarra stood upright, lifting Nimueh’s thigh in the crook of her elbow. The pain seeping from her wounds hurt like a bitch, but that was no matter. It just forced her to focus.
The tip of Nabarra’s dagger met the blow halfway, driving into Nimueh’s hand, sheathed in its own magic. It stopped the slash. The wound burned as the two women’s magic fought for dominance. It was close, but Nimueh’s magic was no match. Pain seared up her arm, eating into her nerves. Nabarra let go of her dagger and her right arm shot upwards, towards Nimueh’s throat. With her left arm around Nimueh’s knee, and her right arm around Nimueh’s throat, the fight was over.
With a short, sharp twist, Nabarra drove the other woman back-first into the roofing tiles. A satisfying crunch. She lifted Nimueh’s head and slammed it into the tiles a few more times for good measure.
”Who the fuck are you?” she spat. Her left hand recovered her dagger, and placed the point atop Nimueh’s heart. ”And why the fuck’re you following me? Fuckin’ answer or I’ll fuckin’ cut yer bloody throat out.”
Nimueh was wild-eyed. She tried to squirm away, to no avail. The questions sounded muted. As if both women were underwater talking. “Your end.” Nimueh managed to say. Or at least that is what she was supposed to be. She had failed and it revolted her. With every passing second she felt more sick with herself. “Did you think you could just run? You’re the shame of my fa-“ She stopped suddenly. No, no she was just a soldier under him now. “-the general.” Tears of pain began to pool in her eyes. She was such a bloody weakling. Nimueh grinded her teeth. “You have to die.” With her one free hand she was frantically looking for anything to use.
”Oh my fucking lord are you crying? And you’re saying that you’re my end? You’re fucking pathetic,” Nabarra replied, laughing. She let go of Nimueh’s neck for a second to let her catch her breath. And punch her in the jaw. She continued, ”I’m the shame of your family? Fuckin’ look at you! Now, again. Who. The. Fuck. Are you? What fuckin’ general?”
Nabarra’s jaw was set in a hard line and her eyes were steely with hate. She would not stand for these cowardly attacks.
Nimueh spat out a bit of blood to the side. The pain was growing dull. Like a distant sensation. But Nabarra’s words cut deep. “Ever the dark elf. You may think you can change but… well look at you.” Nimueh said softly, though in her heart she was seething.
“I am Nimueh, daughter of Xenelith, the Great General.” She locked eyes with Nabarra, and even though a tear dropped from the corner of her eye she met the raider’s steely, hateful gaze in kind.
Nabarra scowled. ”Oh. You,” she said. ”I have the skills yer fuckhead Dad drilled into me. But that doesn’t mean I am like you. Or your shitfucker father. Difference is that I’m beatin’ the shit out of you and not some helpless fuckin’ peasant who’s just tryna eat.”
She looked into Nimueh’s eyes and saw… hate. And pain. Feelings she knew all too well. Old emotions came flooding back into her heart as the tears welled into Nimueh’s eyes, betraying the hard edge she put forward. That hit Nabarra like a snowstorm - hard, fast, and cold. Her next words were full of sorrow. ”W- we aren’t so different. Your Dad - Xenelith - will never be impressed by you. Stop killing for him. For yer own sake.
That was a lie. If Nabarra knew it or not, her father had been impressed with the raider before. It made the word she spoke now sound hollow though. But what made Nimeuh really, irrationally angry were the insults towards her father. “That’s where you’re wrong.” Nimueh said, almost softly. “I’ll never be a traitor.” With the back of her right hand she pusher Nabarra’s knife away at the cost of a long gash. With her left, stabbed, hand swung with all her might at Nabarra. Hitting her square in the jaw, making just enough of an opening to jump from under her.
Nimueh ran towards the edge of the roof, looked down, then back at Nabarra. “I’ll get you!” She yelled. “You’ll die by my hand. I swear on Halastra!” With those words spoken she let herself fall backwards off the roof.
”Stop fuckin’ followin’ me!” Nabarra yelled after the elf. She put her dagger back between her teeth and climbed back down the wall, finding herself face-to-face with the man from before. She looked him in the eyes as her pain caught up with her. ”Let’s get a drink.”