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VitaVitaAR
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King of Knights
STATUS: I think watching fight scenes can help in general terms with writing combat, since it can give you an idea of flow and choreography. 2 yrs ago
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I think watching fight scenes can help in general terms with writing combat, since it can give you an idea of flow and choreography.
2 yrs ago
At least if you're writing something you know, with knights.
2 yrs ago
I mean, depends on what you're writing, and the tone and theme of what you're writing. Trained armored knights were legitimately monstrous on the battlefield, so looking up how they fought helps.
2 yrs ago
As much as there's a lot of reasons twitter sucks, I genuinely don't want to see it die for the sake of all the artists who now rely on it. Hoping the shithead stops trying to directly administrate.
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2 yrs ago
roleplayerguild.com/posts/5… If anyone's up for fighting some kaiju, why not try out my new RP, Godzilla: YATAGARUSU?
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It was completely unreal. The Bandit King was a monster, a beast loosed from the pit that could turn away any attack set upon him, even deprived of one of his arms. Even having experienced it first hand, having fought him alone before inflicting that crippling injury with her dagger, Fanilly was still stunned by the sheer combat prowess the massive man betrayed. Deflecting these attacks so easily, massive leg stepping back, drawing him out of the way of that sharp kick as he moved to parry the bardiche with the flat of his blade...
But even mountains can fall.
The dust in his eyes caused him to stumble, struggling to reorient himself as his crippled arm came up in a bid to clear it from his eyes, his blade lingering far longer then intended in one spot.
Sir Fionn's attack, and the ash and dust flung for his eyes, had done its job. Forced to defend against the former, unable to anticipate the latter, and now blinded even if only for a moment...!
Realization struck Jeremiah as he managed to clear just one of his eyes. The razor edge of Sir Gerard's blade pierced the night, tearing through the open air towards his torso.
No matter how powerful Jeremiah's body was, muscle couldn't easy stop a sword.
Silver and red bit through flesh, burying itself up to the hilt in the Bandit King's side. His entire body tensed, muscles contracting, eyes wide now, unclouded by debris as his grip on his blade tightened.
Skin, muscle, organs, undeniably the damage caused by Sir Gerard's blade was severe. Lethal.
And yet the Three-Hundred Man Slayer wasn't ready to die.
Fury in his eyes, he roared, swinging his sword into the air, over his head, now disregarding his own safety. If he was going to die, he'd take this damned knight with him...!
Fanilly sprang forward, thrusting upwards and inwards. Her blade joined Gerard's sinking deep into Jeremiah's flesh, piercing beneath his arm, into his armpit and burying her sword just as deeply in the massive man's body. His right arm feel loosely at his side, enormous blade clattering to the ground.
She'd seen her opening. That split second before the blade swung down. To finish him more quickly, speed him to his end and remove the threat he posed to her knights.
She couldn't hesitate.
She couldn't allow Sir Gerard to take the blow.
Gritting his teeth, Jeremiah let out a gasp, a rattling sound escaping his lips.
"Damn you.. Iron... Roses...!"
Fanilly stepped back, drawing her sword from that massive body.
Once Sir Gerard freed his blade from Jeremiah's flesh as well, the hulking figure would fall.
Bandit King Jeremiah hit the ground with a resounding thud.
It was the end of the Three-hundred Man Slayer.
But there was no time to take in what had just occurred. No time to mourn Sir Rickert's death.
The battle had to end.
Fanilly inhaled deeply, the small blonde knight filling her lungs in a bid to ensure her voice would carry as far as possible over the din of combat.
"The Bandit King is dead!" she cried, thrusting her bloodstained sword into the air, "Surrender, or suffer his fate!"
Throughout the camp, those bandits who had heard the captain's cry hesitated. Some fell to their knees in surrender, while others stopped in uncertainty.
The most experience veterans among their number, however, would have to be cut down.
Fanilly's blade lowered.
Her eyes drifted over the huge, muscular frame of the dead Bandit King. His eyes were wide and unfocused, the count from Sir Gerard's blade piercing him through his side, the other from her blade under his arm, crimson flowers blooming in his flesh.
Her gaze left his still body, and came to halt on the bisected corpse of the knight the man had slain.
"... Sir Rickert..."
@Raineh Daze@Rune_Alchemist@Psyker Landshark@HereComesTheSnow@Saiyan@The Otter@Crimson Paladin@ERode@Psychic Loser@Richard Horthy@Rin
But even mountains can fall.
The dust in his eyes caused him to stumble, struggling to reorient himself as his crippled arm came up in a bid to clear it from his eyes, his blade lingering far longer then intended in one spot.
Sir Fionn's attack, and the ash and dust flung for his eyes, had done its job. Forced to defend against the former, unable to anticipate the latter, and now blinded even if only for a moment...!
Realization struck Jeremiah as he managed to clear just one of his eyes. The razor edge of Sir Gerard's blade pierced the night, tearing through the open air towards his torso.
No matter how powerful Jeremiah's body was, muscle couldn't easy stop a sword.
Silver and red bit through flesh, burying itself up to the hilt in the Bandit King's side. His entire body tensed, muscles contracting, eyes wide now, unclouded by debris as his grip on his blade tightened.
Skin, muscle, organs, undeniably the damage caused by Sir Gerard's blade was severe. Lethal.
And yet the Three-Hundred Man Slayer wasn't ready to die.
Fury in his eyes, he roared, swinging his sword into the air, over his head, now disregarding his own safety. If he was going to die, he'd take this damned knight with him...!
Fanilly sprang forward, thrusting upwards and inwards. Her blade joined Gerard's sinking deep into Jeremiah's flesh, piercing beneath his arm, into his armpit and burying her sword just as deeply in the massive man's body. His right arm feel loosely at his side, enormous blade clattering to the ground.
She'd seen her opening. That split second before the blade swung down. To finish him more quickly, speed him to his end and remove the threat he posed to her knights.
She couldn't hesitate.
She couldn't allow Sir Gerard to take the blow.
Gritting his teeth, Jeremiah let out a gasp, a rattling sound escaping his lips.
"Damn you.. Iron... Roses...!"
Fanilly stepped back, drawing her sword from that massive body.
Once Sir Gerard freed his blade from Jeremiah's flesh as well, the hulking figure would fall.
Bandit King Jeremiah hit the ground with a resounding thud.
It was the end of the Three-hundred Man Slayer.
But there was no time to take in what had just occurred. No time to mourn Sir Rickert's death.
The battle had to end.
Fanilly inhaled deeply, the small blonde knight filling her lungs in a bid to ensure her voice would carry as far as possible over the din of combat.
"The Bandit King is dead!" she cried, thrusting her bloodstained sword into the air, "Surrender, or suffer his fate!"
Throughout the camp, those bandits who had heard the captain's cry hesitated. Some fell to their knees in surrender, while others stopped in uncertainty.
The most experience veterans among their number, however, would have to be cut down.
Fanilly's blade lowered.
Her eyes drifted over the huge, muscular frame of the dead Bandit King. His eyes were wide and unfocused, the count from Sir Gerard's blade piercing him through his side, the other from her blade under his arm, crimson flowers blooming in his flesh.
Her gaze left his still body, and came to halt on the bisected corpse of the knight the man had slain.
"... Sir Rickert..."
@Raineh Daze@Rune_Alchemist@Psyker Landshark@HereComesTheSnow@Saiyan@The Otter@Crimson Paladin@ERode@Psychic Loser@Richard Horthy@Rin
Hello hello, co-GM here.
While this was certainly a better position to be in when it came to her current limitations as an attacker, Aleksiya could not say she particularly cared for being picked up and carried as if she was a piece of some sort of luggage. Still, she couldn't deny this was a more advantageous position to attack from given her current power level lending her to ranged attack more then anything.
Thus, she refrained from voicing any complaints and instead focused on the task at hand.
More boring, dull undead. The most irritatingly uninteresting kind, dried out old bones that wouldn't even die in an exciting fashion. Still, it was for the sake of her comrades and herself.
And that giant skeleton, with the absent blade, made for an interesting sight as well. Just what was going on? Where was the undead paladin's weapon?
Regardless, given the advance of the skeletons, it was best to strike first and destroy as many of the undead as possible.
"I suppose I shall begin the cull, then," she commented, waving her hand. Crystalline spears of ice formed in an arc over her body, condensing whatever moisture there was in the air into razor projectiles that immediately tilted, training themselves on numerous skeletons below.
All save for one.
As she released the first seven projectiles into the skeletal horde, the eight tilted upwards, aiming at the smaller figure beside the skeleton. She wasn't confident it would hit, but if it didn't that was acceptable. Rather, she wanted to see how the giant skeleton would react.
The crystalline spear of ice was loosed, tearing through the air.
@Rune_Alchemist@ERode@Asuras@Psyker Landshark@Click This@Pyromania99
Thus, she refrained from voicing any complaints and instead focused on the task at hand.
More boring, dull undead. The most irritatingly uninteresting kind, dried out old bones that wouldn't even die in an exciting fashion. Still, it was for the sake of her comrades and herself.
And that giant skeleton, with the absent blade, made for an interesting sight as well. Just what was going on? Where was the undead paladin's weapon?
Regardless, given the advance of the skeletons, it was best to strike first and destroy as many of the undead as possible.
"I suppose I shall begin the cull, then," she commented, waving her hand. Crystalline spears of ice formed in an arc over her body, condensing whatever moisture there was in the air into razor projectiles that immediately tilted, training themselves on numerous skeletons below.
All save for one.
As she released the first seven projectiles into the skeletal horde, the eight tilted upwards, aiming at the smaller figure beside the skeleton. She wasn't confident it would hit, but if it didn't that was acceptable. Rather, she wanted to see how the giant skeleton would react.
The crystalline spear of ice was loosed, tearing through the air.
@Rune_Alchemist@ERode@Asuras@Psyker Landshark@Click This@Pyromania99
Senya quietly glanced back over her shoulder when her uniform was tightened, her headband adjusted slightly. She didn't utter a single word, simply holding her case in both hands as she expressionlessly glanced back at the strict drill sergeant. She didn't have much to say, but she thought she'd put her headband on straight... had she not?
She listened quietly to the summary of the expected threats. She'd kill them. She'd kill all the demons. That was that, really. She'd shoot them and they'd blow up. She'd cut them up and they'd bleed. None of them were that one, so there was no need to do anything else.
When Katherine was shoved out, there were two immediate thoughts in the tiny dark elf's mind.
One being that she would most assuredly be fine, so there was no reason to be worried.
The other was that it was hilarious.
Her lips curled into a smile, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Heh."
Her amusement at the other maid's terrifying predicament, however, was swiftly cut short when Myrilia announced that her daughter was among the maids that had been deployed.
When she heard that, the smile swiftly faded from Senya's lips, and the small maid merely gave a firm nod and waited to be equipped with the parachute. If that was the case, then she'd made sure to bring her back. And kill every single demon in her way, too.
Wordlessly, expression still neutral, she stepped to the edge.
And then into the air.
One wind-whipped parachuting trip later, and Senya had landed in the designated square, near the fountain that had marked their landing site. It took some time for her to disentangle herself from the parachute, briefly appearing like some sort of comical sheet-covered phantom as she floundered with it until she freed herself, removing the straps entirely and briefly checking to make sure she still had her pack.
Cogsfell was in flames... smoke and destruction were everywhere. And she could hear all sorts of terrible noises, too.
It brought forth unpleasant memories, though the sensation didn't show on the small girl's face.
Instead, she quietly opened her case.
From it emerged an artifice of steel and steam, a smooth, gleaming shape that ended in multiple barrels. From beneath it, a long, sharp, swordlike blade extended, turning once and snapping into place beneath each of the barrels.
Senya adjusted her grip on the weapon slightly. It was almost comical, the sight of the handheld gatling gun being held by such a small girl. It was even bigger then she was.
"... I'm ready to kill."
@Rune_Alchemist
She listened quietly to the summary of the expected threats. She'd kill them. She'd kill all the demons. That was that, really. She'd shoot them and they'd blow up. She'd cut them up and they'd bleed. None of them were that one, so there was no need to do anything else.
When Katherine was shoved out, there were two immediate thoughts in the tiny dark elf's mind.
One being that she would most assuredly be fine, so there was no reason to be worried.
The other was that it was hilarious.
Her lips curled into a smile, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Heh."
Her amusement at the other maid's terrifying predicament, however, was swiftly cut short when Myrilia announced that her daughter was among the maids that had been deployed.
When she heard that, the smile swiftly faded from Senya's lips, and the small maid merely gave a firm nod and waited to be equipped with the parachute. If that was the case, then she'd made sure to bring her back. And kill every single demon in her way, too.
Wordlessly, expression still neutral, she stepped to the edge.
And then into the air.
One wind-whipped parachuting trip later, and Senya had landed in the designated square, near the fountain that had marked their landing site. It took some time for her to disentangle herself from the parachute, briefly appearing like some sort of comical sheet-covered phantom as she floundered with it until she freed herself, removing the straps entirely and briefly checking to make sure she still had her pack.
Cogsfell was in flames... smoke and destruction were everywhere. And she could hear all sorts of terrible noises, too.
It brought forth unpleasant memories, though the sensation didn't show on the small girl's face.
Instead, she quietly opened her case.
From it emerged an artifice of steel and steam, a smooth, gleaming shape that ended in multiple barrels. From beneath it, a long, sharp, swordlike blade extended, turning once and snapping into place beneath each of the barrels.
Senya adjusted her grip on the weapon slightly. It was almost comical, the sight of the handheld gatling gun being held by such a small girl. It was even bigger then she was.
"... I'm ready to kill."
@Rune_Alchemist
Her blade struck true.
It had been a simple spell, all she could manage when she was keeping the Fomorian bound with two complex binding spells in a row. She could feel how weak her slender limbs had become, her legs trembling slightly beneath her.
But Fio's phantom sword had found its mark, burying itself in the beastly bandit's center back and erupting out the other side. From the angle, even at this distance, she was sure she had pierced his heart.
And now the monster fell.
She'd struck her mark.
"There."
The crystal-like blade of magical energy dissipated, and Fio fell to her knees, no longer having the energy to remain on her feet. She'd protected the knights, and delivered the final blow that slew their enemy. She'd been perfectly confident in the outcome, but it was still a relief to actually see the monstrous figure fall to the ground and die. The battle was finished, and she would be able to recover from using so many complex spells in a short span of time. But there was still one more task she had to attend to before she could rest.
The binding spell keeping the Fomorian in check had to be maintained until the others arrived, and her prisoner could be tied with more permanent restraints in order to be taken back.
This was her prize. A Fomorian they could interrogate. Fio was not about to give her up.
Adjusting her hat, the petite witch sat back on her knees.
Just what had the Fomorian said to her? It was bad enough she was doing horrible experiments resulting in hideous, cursed, warped abominations. But that comment... what was that supposed to mean?
"E... excuse me? What's that s-supposed to mean?" Fio managed between gulps of air, as she fixed her purple-blue gaze on the other girl, eyes narrowed. Exactly how didn't she look like a witch?
Even if she was exhausted, she wasn't about to ignore a comment like that.
@Rune_Alchemist@FrogRFlowR@Pyromania99
It had been a simple spell, all she could manage when she was keeping the Fomorian bound with two complex binding spells in a row. She could feel how weak her slender limbs had become, her legs trembling slightly beneath her.
But Fio's phantom sword had found its mark, burying itself in the beastly bandit's center back and erupting out the other side. From the angle, even at this distance, she was sure she had pierced his heart.
And now the monster fell.
She'd struck her mark.
"There."
The crystal-like blade of magical energy dissipated, and Fio fell to her knees, no longer having the energy to remain on her feet. She'd protected the knights, and delivered the final blow that slew their enemy. She'd been perfectly confident in the outcome, but it was still a relief to actually see the monstrous figure fall to the ground and die. The battle was finished, and she would be able to recover from using so many complex spells in a short span of time. But there was still one more task she had to attend to before she could rest.
The binding spell keeping the Fomorian in check had to be maintained until the others arrived, and her prisoner could be tied with more permanent restraints in order to be taken back.
This was her prize. A Fomorian they could interrogate. Fio was not about to give her up.
Adjusting her hat, the petite witch sat back on her knees.
Just what had the Fomorian said to her? It was bad enough she was doing horrible experiments resulting in hideous, cursed, warped abominations. But that comment... what was that supposed to mean?
"E... excuse me? What's that s-supposed to mean?" Fio managed between gulps of air, as she fixed her purple-blue gaze on the other girl, eyes narrowed. Exactly how didn't she look like a witch?
Even if she was exhausted, she wasn't about to ignore a comment like that.
@Rune_Alchemist@FrogRFlowR@Pyromania99
Fanilly coughed as she clutched at her throat. Immediately, her spot fighting the massive figure that was Bandit King Jeremiah was taken by Sir Gerard and Sir Fionn, swiftly taking the injured brigand's attention away from her entirely. Her dagger was still in her hand... she'd not done so intentionally, but the fact the wound wasn't stopped by the blade would mean that Jeremiah was still bleeding.
He'd killed Sir Rickert... but he wouldn't take any more lives. Not today. She just had to catch her breath, she couldn't let herself fail again, she had to rise and help as swiftly as possible...!
There were bruises on her neck, but with her heart hammering and her veins burning, the petite Knight-Captain wasn't focusing on the tenderness and lingering pain.
She had to help.
To prevent another life being taken by the monstrous figure that was Jeremiah.
"So you're the fools who follow that wretched little bitch?!"
Jeremiah snarled. Even one-handed, his command of the enormous blade was impressive, twisting his wrist as he used its flat like a shield and ran it across his front to deflect the incoming blows. But as he shifted, twisting his body, metal on metal ringing out, it was clear he was struggling. Certainly, his shield-like usage of his enormous sword allowed him to defend even his leg from Sir Gerard's blow, but he was forced to take a step back, forced to take up the defensive instead of the offensive he most clearly desired.
His lack of armor didn't equip him to maintain this for long.
And certainly, he wasn't ready for Fanilly to suddenly rush in from his right side, darting around her knights and forcing him to defend with a sharp thrust towards his side, metal on metal singing once again.
She had him occupied, she had forced him to focus on her again! Could he recover fast enough to attack, or defend from the other knights...?!
@Raineh Daze@Rune_Alchemist@Psyker Landshark@HereComesTheSnow@Saiyan@The Otter@Crimson Paladin@ERode@Psychic Loser@Richard Horthy@Rin
He'd killed Sir Rickert... but he wouldn't take any more lives. Not today. She just had to catch her breath, she couldn't let herself fail again, she had to rise and help as swiftly as possible...!
There were bruises on her neck, but with her heart hammering and her veins burning, the petite Knight-Captain wasn't focusing on the tenderness and lingering pain.
She had to help.
To prevent another life being taken by the monstrous figure that was Jeremiah.
"So you're the fools who follow that wretched little bitch?!"
Jeremiah snarled. Even one-handed, his command of the enormous blade was impressive, twisting his wrist as he used its flat like a shield and ran it across his front to deflect the incoming blows. But as he shifted, twisting his body, metal on metal ringing out, it was clear he was struggling. Certainly, his shield-like usage of his enormous sword allowed him to defend even his leg from Sir Gerard's blow, but he was forced to take a step back, forced to take up the defensive instead of the offensive he most clearly desired.
His lack of armor didn't equip him to maintain this for long.
And certainly, he wasn't ready for Fanilly to suddenly rush in from his right side, darting around her knights and forcing him to defend with a sharp thrust towards his side, metal on metal singing once again.
She had him occupied, she had forced him to focus on her again! Could he recover fast enough to attack, or defend from the other knights...?!
@Raineh Daze@Rune_Alchemist@Psyker Landshark@HereComesTheSnow@Saiyan@The Otter@Crimson Paladin@ERode@Psychic Loser@Richard Horthy@Rin
The sight of the abominable experiments tearing one asunder was awful. She saw flesh scatter to the ground, organs spilling out, bone and muscle snapping and tearing until all that was left was a pile of useless, fetid meat heaped upon the ground.
But no part of it could fight anymore.
"That's where you have me mistaken, Fomorian," Fio replied, a smirk on her face as she turned back towards the dark, bound girl, "I may be in service of that apparent Queen, but I'm a witch. Not a knight."
... Not to say that she wanted to go any further. She was quiet thankful not to have to actually kill a helpless foe, even a Fomorian. Though she would have if she hadn't called off her experiments.
But she'd wanted to take a Fomorian prisoner for a while now.
Really, it was the best outcome for both of them.
With a wave of her sword, Razor Light Bind dissipated...
"Constrictor Light."
... only to be replaced immediately with an even tighter, but far less painful or potentially lethal bind of blue light, tightly securing the Fomorian's limbs to her body, binding her legs together and into a kneeling position. She would be even less capable of movement, now. Creating a set of barriers to use as steps, she made her way down towards her captive and positioned herself just behind her, to ensure she didn't try anything. Not that she could escape, anyway.
The fight with that huge bandit had changed dramatically while she was distracted. Now, he had become some bestial, monstrous abomination. Quiet similar to one of the Fomorians himself.
Keeping the Fomorian bound meant she couldn't necessarily use her biggest offensive spells, but at the same time she had to do something.
"Sura," declared Fio, thrusting her blade skywards, "A single phantom sword. Its edge hard. A great blade of light that will pierce the enemy."
The air rippled above her, and a sword of woven blue crystal-like energy emerged from the circle as it appeared, as big as Fio herself and pointed squarely at the bestial bandit.
"Kill."
And it was released, hurtling towards its target. Even if the blow didn't prove lethal, as long as it struck it would surely make an opening for her comrades.
@Rune_Alchemist@Pyromania99@FrogRFlowR
But no part of it could fight anymore.
"That's where you have me mistaken, Fomorian," Fio replied, a smirk on her face as she turned back towards the dark, bound girl, "I may be in service of that apparent Queen, but I'm a witch. Not a knight."
... Not to say that she wanted to go any further. She was quiet thankful not to have to actually kill a helpless foe, even a Fomorian. Though she would have if she hadn't called off her experiments.
But she'd wanted to take a Fomorian prisoner for a while now.
Really, it was the best outcome for both of them.
With a wave of her sword, Razor Light Bind dissipated...
"Constrictor Light."
... only to be replaced immediately with an even tighter, but far less painful or potentially lethal bind of blue light, tightly securing the Fomorian's limbs to her body, binding her legs together and into a kneeling position. She would be even less capable of movement, now. Creating a set of barriers to use as steps, she made her way down towards her captive and positioned herself just behind her, to ensure she didn't try anything. Not that she could escape, anyway.
The fight with that huge bandit had changed dramatically while she was distracted. Now, he had become some bestial, monstrous abomination. Quiet similar to one of the Fomorians himself.
Keeping the Fomorian bound meant she couldn't necessarily use her biggest offensive spells, but at the same time she had to do something.
"Sura," declared Fio, thrusting her blade skywards, "A single phantom sword. Its edge hard. A great blade of light that will pierce the enemy."
The air rippled above her, and a sword of woven blue crystal-like energy emerged from the circle as it appeared, as big as Fio herself and pointed squarely at the bestial bandit.
"Kill."
And it was released, hurtling towards its target. Even if the blow didn't prove lethal, as long as it struck it would surely make an opening for her comrades.
@Rune_Alchemist@Pyromania99@FrogRFlowR
@VahkiDane: Co-gms think he's good too, accepted.
- Name: Senya Fivulwyn
- Gender: Female
- Race: Dark Elf
- Photo ID: "..." I know she looks young, but looks can be deceiving. Especially since she's an elf. Believe me, you'll be able to rely on her.
- Relevant Abilities: "I can clean. I can cook too. And I can kill things." Don't believe her when she says she can cook. Trust nothing she makes, unless you want to experience suffering words cannot describe. She is excellent at cleaning though, and you can trust her ability to aim and shoot well enough to compensate for her weapon's unique properties. She's quite agile as well.
- Tell us about yourself: "..." I know she rarely shows it, but Senya is a much more compassionate and sensitive girl then she lets on. That stoic-looking pokerface is hiding a lot of feelings. If you ever hear her raise her voice, something's wrong, but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel anything otherwise. Admittedly one of her bad points is that she enjoys seeing people stumble and get in trouble a lot more then she should, I'd keep an eye out for her playing pranks on people she disagrees with. But she won't let people get hurt. Not intentionally. She might even go a little too far to protect someone, so keep an eye on her. When things are bad she stops taking care of herself properly, so watch out for that too. If you ever need to get her to do something for you, try something sweet. She'll try and hold out but the temptation will be too much.
- Work history: "..." This is going to be her first real work. But I've kept my eye on her and watched her progress, she's an excellent maid. As long as you don't let her cook. She won't show it. She might even act like it's a bother. But she wants to be here. Badly. She'll be loyal. She won't give up, even to her own detriment. So don't let her get herself killed, okay? There's someone she's looking for, after all.
- Tools you are skilled with: "She gave it to me. It can really tear things apart. Heh." You might recognize this weapon. Or at least, some might. A portable gatling gun with a bayonet that big isn't common after all. Everything's still in place, so she doesn't have any trouble wielding it even if it's as big as she is.
- Occult Knowledge: "... They won't stand a chance." She's better at it then I was. Her favorite trick is magically charging her bullets, so that they explode on contact, but she can apply it to the bayonet too so that she can cut through things even more effectively. You won't have any issues here.
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