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Description
Against her tanned skin, the pale stretches of scar stand out like sore thumbs. With a sigh, Victoria drags a bored finger along one of the raised stretches of flesh; she was so careless in her last fight. Too many more cuts, and she could have been done in by blood loss. A scary thought, considering how much she ached to win - to prove she could beat any challenge thrown her way. “Too many more scars and my arms will look like tic-tac-toe boards,” she pointed out with a laugh to no one in particular.

“At least that would give me something to do,” she groans, flopping backwards into the comfort of her mattress. As much as she knew that lingering too much on the past could cause her problems, Victoria is helpless but to be victim to her own worries. How could Conrad Gray get under her skin so quickly?

From the door, fellow competitor Laryn calls out, “Tori, the training room is open now if you want to use it. I have to get ready for my fight; good luck in yours!” Without missing a beat, the young woman was gone to her own chores. Victoria called out thanks as she sat up, grateful for the small miracles in life.

Scooping her duffel bag into her arms, Tori double checks the contents for her water bottles and a change of clothes. Everything in order, she hurried down the hall to the gym; if anything could take her mind off of her stresses, it was beating the living hell out of a punching bag. Now that one was prepped for her, Tori was glad to remove herself of her stressors with each successful blow.

Each time her wrapped fists collided with the aged leather, Victoria shouts out one of the things weighing on her; “Stupid! Pride! Anger! Clare! Scars! Idiot!” To others, the seemingly random words would make no sense, but as each frustration escapes from her throat, it is like they are truly leaving her, and in their wake, Tori felt the first bit of satisfaction since the fight with Conrad. No one else could see the self criticism, or the pain that had taken root in her ribs, threatening to steal her breaths. So, Victoria let it out until tears threatened to pool in her eyes, her voice growing hoarse from her shouts. Some things got repeated several times, each time louder than the last.

The venting session, however, gains a visitor at the worst of the moments, when Tori leans her forearm against the punching bag and her head against her forearm. Her breathing is too fast, too emotional.

“Victoria Mortimer?” the Guildmistress needs no invitation or introduction as she strides in, her armor freshly polished and gleaming. “Ah,” she nods once to herself, “You’re a hard woman to track down! Seems that Laryn was right to assume you would be here.” The Guildmistress pulls a folded sheet of paper from her breastplate and hands it to the read-haired brawler. “Just wanted to pass on the announcement for your next battle,” Guildmistress Fiona explains. “No slacking during this fight, got it?!” her calm demeanor has changed into the one that has earned her the respect of the entire guild. “I will not have any more of my competitors having to drop out due to injuries!”

“Y-yes ma’am!” Tori responds as trained. It is weird, though. Laryn obviously has no issues with getting to her next fight if she was in the training room earlier. And, as far as Tori knew, Clare has been the picture of health. So then, whose injuries forced then to drop?

The Guildmistress leaves no time for Victoria to respond and is gone before she can ask about the dropped competitor.

Skimming over the paper, Tori can’t help but feel as though something ominous is looming. She can’t shake the Guildmistress’s words, but as long as nothing wrong happens during her fight, everything should be okay. Though, what she read makes her heart skip a beat.
“TWO?!”

--[ VM ]--

The walk from the Guild base to the Botanical Gardens goes a lot faster than Tori anticipates. Still a bit longer than she would have liked, she takes a moment after walking in to get a feel of her surroundings.

Plants.

Everywhere.

The arrangements are beautiful ballets of color, combining flowers with similar shapes to make lively displays. The paths are lined with smaller, more delicate bushes that are dotted with young blossoms, daring to peek out in the fading light. Even the trees have colorful fruits and flowers hanging on them, and their leaves have clearly been carefully tended to.

“Gross,” she snorts, passing by the displays with just as much disinterest as she would have if someone had asked her to sit through a lecture on why it rains. She focuses on the gazebo in the center, sure that her opponents will gather there before the fight begins.

As she crosses the dainty bridge that links the gazebo to the rest of the garden, Tori looks into the small pool of water that bubbles over some man-made rocks and gets a glimpse of her reflection. She looks weary and intimidating. Like a more modern viking without the horns. The comparison makes her smile a little.

The smile quickly fades as she remembers where she is. “I can’t stand this place!” she announces, sneering at one of the flowers.

Of all things, flowers have long been the only thing to make her uncomfortable - at least, outside of her own thoughts. Well, flowers and maybe that Conrad guy from her last fight.

Correction: flowers, Conrad Gray, and talking to people about herself. For a moment, Tori has to think more, realizing that there are a lot more things that bother her than she would like to admit. There is something else about the garden that bothers her, though. The chirping of birds and cicadas is entirely to cheery for this to be a battlefield.

Abruptly, the birds halt their song and two blades come at Victoria from either side. If it hadn’t been for the rustling in the bushes, Tori wouldn’t have known to raise her arms to deflect the swords. The time for reaction, however, is small, and she only barely manages to catch the blades with the steel of her gauntlets. “Go figure!” she greets, bearing a giant grin. “Way to surprise me in such a shitty place!” The blades pull away, and Tori is able to step back a few feet and prepare for the next assault.

Only, there isn’t one.

Instead, the pair of fighters step more into vision, their weapons still at the ready. Able to look at them better, Tori was able to get a grasp on what she would be dealing with in their fight. On the left, and a little further back than the right-sided enemy, is Kasimir Fyl - someone the announcement had described as devoted and as having a few tricks up his sleeves. To the left, and more prominent than her former, is the beautiful Mira Darklynn. Tori scrunches her nose at the assessment, knowing well that taking time to appreciate something or someone aesthetically could wind up poorly.

Still, it didn’t change anything.

Aside from that first strike, the two cast wary glances at each other, giving Tori the idea that they only teamed for that initial attack and had no alliance protecting them from each other. The tension between them could erupt at any moment, and Tori would make use of them taking each other out as best as she could, should that happen. As her opponents, she dares not lower her guard, despite their lack of a follow up attack.

“Victoria, right?” Kasimir inquired.

With a snort, Tori shrugs, “Well, if I’m not, you both just attacked an innocent bystander!”

Not missing a beat, Kasimir continues, “it is a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for the surprise; we are, after all, rivals in this competition. Without reason, we could have had a lovely dinner first.”

“You will be a tough opponent, after all,” Mira chimes in cheerily. “I simply will not go down without a fight!” In contrast, Tori is taken by the overall pleasant-ness of her opponents. Unless it’s a trap. That wouldn’t be good.

“Enough chit chat,” Tori grunts, raising her fists. “I came here to fight, not to talk the night away.”

Kasimir sighs and swings his sword in hand, “How unpleasant.”

As she predicted, having two opponents at once is no easy task. The pair fought with no kind of rhythm, sometimes swinging their swords at each other, and other times going after Tori and her punches. All she can do is wait for some kind of opening to get close and punch them out, but it takes its time to show. Her stamina wearing thin, Tori chews on her cheek, managing tiny blows that have yet to really do much more than smart at her opponents.

In frustration, Tori channels the power of her Runes into her gauntlets and charges. To her delight, Mira does little to dodge, and as Tori closes in, she swings. In a beautiful moment, fist makes contact with bone as Tori’s bracers collide with Mira’s cheek. Then, it’s gone as fast as it came.

Tori had made a mistake in going after Mira in close quarters. After the initial blow to her cheek has stunned her opponent, Tori unleashes a volley into her stomach. And, for as many punches as the woman took, Tori notices that there’s a smile creeping its way onto Mira’s face. The sharp pain in her abdomen sends off the final red flag that her mistake is great.

A hidden blade attached to Mira’s wrist has cut a small hole in Tori’s armor and allowed the dagger to sink into her flesh. Had her armor not been there, more of the blade could have found its way into her body and forced Tori into an immediate loss.

As it is, Tori reels backwards, pressing her hands on the gash and doubling over. Blood dribbles through the cracks in her fingers and a rusty taste fills her mouth. Before she can stop herself, Tori’s knees hit the ground and the collision is rocking through her joints. She yelps in pain, but grits her teeth, quickly cutting off much more noise. Too early she has taken too much of a blow, This one could end her if she isn’t careful.

Seizing the moment, Kasimir is ready to gain the upper hand, and the hilt of his sword slams into Tori’s back, knocking her forward and seemingly down for the count. The blood loss is worrisome, making her fight to keep awake, but the pain helps. It keeps her alert.

As she prays for a miracle, Tori hears a sinister comment.

“Just to make sure you don’t get back up…” Then, boots are colliding in her side, not far from where she was stabbed by Mira’s damned hidden dagger. Three kicks, and then a snarl of rage.

“That is ENOUGH!” Kasimir bellows and charges for Mira, and the force of his impact sends her soaring through the air and into one of the legs of the gazebo. With a heave, Kasimir rolls his shoulders and leers at Mira. “You Shadow fiends have no morals!” he shouts, waving his sword for emphasis. “How unnecessary for you to kick a downed opponent!”

Her face torn between a grimace of pain, a snarl of indignance, and twisted in confusion, Mira peels her body from the fractured structure and throws her hands in the air. “What are you doing!?” she demands, almost offended in appearance. “Why would you stop me from taking out an adversary?” Her posture shifts as she yells all kinds of insults at Kasimir, who shrugs them off in the name of dignity.

Then, the daggers are in the air.

Tori rolls out of the way as Kasimir deflects and dodges the blades. With each motion, he draws closer to Mira. From the safety of the bushes, Tori lets Kasimir handle Mira as she tries to find some solution for the constant source of blood pouring from her stomach.

Kasimir begins swinging his blade with the ferocity of a tiger. Flames have sparked at his hands, ready to ignite into something larger, but it’s not until he knocks Mira’s rapier from her hands that he lets them grow big enough to use as an attack. “Your brutality makes me sick,” he growls, letting the flames engulf his fist as he delivers a particularly devastating blow to Mira.

In her shelter, Tori makes a mental note to apologize to Clare as she rips the loincloth from her armor. the fabric wraps nicely around her torso, forming a tourniquet to stem the flow of blood. She peeks over the bushes to see Kasimir rolling one of his shoulders. Mira must be out for now, but now, Tori is more ready than ever to rejoin the fight.

As much as she doesn’t want to hurt Kasimir, he was the one foolish enough to let her get away. One thing Tori had learned over the years was to keep her cool during a fight and to keep tabs on all opponents. Not that she has a lot of room to talk about the keeping cool thing, but at least she was aware of Mira not laying on the ground anymore.
“Probably not a good sign,” she mutters, realizing that Mira not being anywhere out in the open could only mean that she is hiding somewhere and waiting to strike. She creeps along the shore, waiting for Kasimir to draw closer.

With an almost arrogant step in his stride, Kasimir paced on the bridge, looking around the apparently empty garden. “Kind of jumped the gun on that one, Kas,” he sighs. Looking over his shoulder, he takes notice of Tori’s absence and lets out a sigh. “Maybe I should have let that vampire take out the fist-y girl. If only she could have some sportsmanship about it.”

From beneath the bridge, Tori waits for Kasimir to come into range. When he does, her Rune infused gauntlets strike upwards. The boards of the bridge are more than happy to give way to the force as Tori jumps back. Kasimir falls ungraciously, landing flat on his back.

He stares, dazed and confused about what has just happened.

Panting, Tori steps over him and grins. “Hope you didn’t count me out!” she greets. Offering her hand to help the mage up, she waits until his weight is balanced in that precarious half-standing spot, and lets go.

Her laugh is loud and rude as he splashes back into the little pond, helpless to the effects of gravity. Holding her belly more from the stinging pain than laughter, Tori offers her hand once more to Kasimir, only to be greeted by a fireball that bursts violently against her chestplate. The heat radiates against her exposed skin as the flames consume her flesh. A scream tears from her throat, high pitched and panicked, as Tori falls to her knees and desperately splashes water wherever there is fire.

“How unpleasant,” Kasimir mutters, standing without help and swinging his sword around in his hand. Readying another fireball, he waits for Tori to lift her head and look at him. The flesh is bright pink, pain caused more by heat than actual fire - after all, the real part had hit her armor, while the smaller parts had barely tinged her flesh. He watches the terror widen her eyes as Kasimir lets the flame free fall in a careful arc, aimed for her face.
To protect herself, Tori raises her arms in defense. Her balance shifts, no longer held up by her arms, and the flame collides, its center hitting her jaw, and the fire taking better than the last.

Her last scream was weak compared to this one. Clawing at her face, Tori sobs and falls into the water. Her fingers find the blistered flesh and singed hairs as she feigns unconsciousness. Kasimir stepps over her, letting his sword drag along the back of Tori’s armor as he goes.
Tori’s teeth grit together against her convulsions and sobs. Her face still feels the flames, despite them being long gone. She watches, only half comprehending, as Mira swoops down from a tree and kicks Kasimir square between the shoulders. Struggling to pull up her weight, Tori leaned on her elbows, watching Kasimir crumple to the ground and unsuccessfully fend off Mira’s swift attacks. When he stills, Tori takes a deep breath and stands, waiting for Mira to turn her attention on her.

A comment that Kasimir made comes to mind.

Vampire.

Mira’s hood has done well to shade its wearer, but Tori can’t help but wonder what would happen if it were to fall off. The burns on her face sting like hell in the sunlight, but the sun is setting, and any kind of opening is dwindling. Steeling her will, Tori runs in a mad dash toward Mira, hoping to accomplish her goal before the Shadow member takes notice.

As Tori yanks backwards on Mira’s hood, that damn hidden dagger has slashed a long gash in her forearm. Mira grips Tori’s wrist and grins, yanking her close and dragging her tongue along the torn flesh.

“Panic tastes so good,” Mira giggles. There is a pause, though, as she realizes that her hood has fallen. “Silly girl! The sun is too far set to do much more than be a bother!”
Frustrated and frankly, humiliated at having her blood licked from her arm, Tori swings at Mira while she gloats. The punch collides with her ribs, and Tori grimaces as she feels bones begin to give way.

Mira yelps and flees, holding her side and letting out a series of wails. “That hurt!” she whines, using her uninjured side to throw daggers.

They are much slower than before, giving away the evidence of pain. Tori bats them away without too much trouble, but a few manage to tear little cuts in her forearm. One manages to stick itself into the strap of leather holding Tori’s chestplate in place, and she pulls it out, trying to appear bored as she flicks it aside.

In a panic, Mira throws a smoke bomb. A delayed explosion has it go off after the capsule has already rolled behind Tori. “Stupid smoke bomb!” Mira growls, readying another one as Tori grabs her wrist.

Pulling Mira close, Tori mirrors the grin from before. After a whine from Mira, Tori closes the gap, forcing her lips against the vampire’s, but only briefly. “Panic tastes so good,” she echoes, slamming Mira into the tree.

The vampire gives a whimper, but makes no move to get back up.

Tori takes a moment to make sure that Kasimir is still alive - he is - and moves to leave the garden. If this fight has done anything, it has enforced her dislike of flowers. As she wipes her mouth, a look of disgust on her face, Tori looks to the sky. Maybe, if she makes it in time, she can share dinner with Clare, and they can talk about their fights.

The thought puts a spring in her steps as Tori hurries back to the grounds. An official stops her, offering a first-aid ray that she gladly accepts and uses to heal the lighter of her wounds. The stab wound in her stomach, and the gash in her arm are not so readily healed by small magic, however. But, they have stopped bleeding.

The first thing Tori does is take a trip to the infirmary; they put stitches in her arm and use magic to help close the wound in her stomach, then dress it and give strict bedrest orders. It will be a long recovery, but Tori refuses to not be at her best for the next fight.

After dinner alone, Tori returns to her room and flops into bed, asleep by the time her head hits the pillow. The day was long and arduous, but sleep offers sweet release.
Here, almost nothing can worry her.

Description
Against her tanned skin, the pale stretches of scar stand out like sore thumbs. With a sigh, Victoria drags a bored finger along one of the raised stretches of flesh; she was so careless in her last fight. Too many more cuts, and she could have been done in by blood loss. A scary thought, considering how much she ached to win - to prove she could beat any challenge thrown her way. “Too many more scars and my arms will look like tic-tac-toe boards,” she pointed out with a laugh to no one in particular.

“At least that would give me something to do,” she groans, flopping backwards into the comfort of her mattress. As much as she knew that lingering too much on the past could cause her problems, Victoria is helpless but to be victim to her own worries. How could Conrad Gray get under her skin so quickly?

From the door, fellow competitor Laryn calls out, “Tori, the training room is open now if you want to use it. I have to get ready for my fight; good luck in yours!” Without missing a beat, the young woman was gone to her own chores. Victoria called out thanks as she sat up, grateful for the small miracles in life.

Scooping her duffel bag into her arms, Tori double checks the contents for her water bottles and a change of clothes. Everything in order, she hurried down the hall to the gym; if anything could take her mind off of her stresses, it was beating the living hell out of a punching bag. Now that one was prepped for her, Tori was glad to remove herself of her stressors with each successful blow.

Each time her wrapped fists collided with the aged leather, Victoria shouts out one of the things weighing on her; “Stupid! Pride! Anger! Clare! Scars! Idiot!” To others, the seemingly random words would make no sense, but as each frustration escapes from her throat, it is like they are truly leaving her, and in their wake, Tori felt the first bit of satisfaction since the fight with Conrad. No one else could see the self criticism, or the pain that had taken root in her ribs, threatening to steal her breaths. So, Victoria let it out until tears threatened to pool in her eyes, her voice growing hoarse from her shouts. Some things got repeated several times, each time louder than the last.

The venting session, however, gains a visitor at the worst of the moments, when Tori leans her forearm against the punching bag and her head against her forearm. Her breathing is too fast, too emotional.

“Victoria Mortimer?” the Guildmistress needs no invitation or introduction as she strides in, her armor freshly polished and gleaming. “Ah,” she nods once to herself, “You’re a hard woman to track down! Seems that Laryn was right to assume you would be here.” The Guildmistress pulls a folded sheet of paper from her breastplate and hands it to the read-haired brawler. “Just wanted to pass on the announcement for your next battle,” Guildmistress Fiona explains. “No slacking during this fight, got it?!” her calm demeanor has changed into the one that has earned her the respect of the entire guild. “I will not have any more of my competitors having to drop out due to injuries!”

“Y-yes ma’am!” Tori responds as trained. It is weird, though. Laryn obviously has no issues with getting to her next fight if she was in the training room earlier. And, as far as Tori knew, Clare has been the picture of health. So then, whose injuries forced then to drop?

The Guildmistress leaves no time for Victoria to respond and is gone before she can ask about the dropped competitor.

Skimming over the paper, Tori can’t help but feel as though something ominous is looming. She can’t shake the Guildmistress’s words, but as long as nothing wrong happens during her fight, everything should be okay. Though, what she read makes her heart skip a beat.
“TWO?!”

--[ VM ]--

The walk from the Guild base to the Botanical Gardens goes a lot faster than Tori anticipates. Still a bit longer than she would have liked, she takes a moment after walking in to get a feel of her surroundings.

Plants.

Everywhere.

The arrangements are beautiful ballets of color, combining flowers with similar shapes to make lively displays. The paths are lined with smaller, more delicate bushes that are dotted with young blossoms, daring to peek out in the fading light. Even the trees have colorful fruits and flowers hanging on them, and their leaves have clearly been carefully tended to.

“Gross,” she snorts, passing by the displays with just as much disinterest as she would have if someone had asked her to sit through a lecture on why it rains. She focuses on the gazebo in the center, sure that her opponents will gather there before the fight begins.

As she crosses the dainty bridge that links the gazebo to the rest of the garden, Tori looks into the small pool of water that bubbles over some man-made rocks and gets a glimpse of her reflection. She looks weary and intimidating. Like a more modern viking without the horns. The comparison makes her smile a little.

The smile quickly fades as she remembers where she is. “I can’t stand this place!” she announces, sneering at one of the flowers.

Of all things, flowers have long been the only thing to make her uncomfortable - at least, outside of her own thoughts. Well, flowers and maybe that Conrad guy from her last fight.

Correction: flowers, Conrad Gray, and talking to people about herself. For a moment, Tori has to think more, realizing that there are a lot more things that bother her than she would like to admit. There is something else about the garden that bothers her, though. The chirping of birds and cicadas is entirely to cheery for this to be a battlefield.

Abruptly, the birds halt their song and two blades come at Victoria from either side. If it hadn’t been for the rustling in the bushes, Tori wouldn’t have known to raise her arms to deflect the swords. The time for reaction, however, is small, and she only barely manages to catch the blades with the steel of her gauntlets. “Go figure!” she greets, bearing a giant grin. “Way to surprise me in such a shitty place!” The blades pull away, and Tori is able to step back a few feet and prepare for the next assault.

Only, there isn’t one.

Instead, the pair of fighters step more into vision, their weapons still at the ready. Able to look at them better, Tori was able to get a grasp on what she would be dealing with in their fight. On the left, and a little further back than the right-sided enemy, is Kasimir Fyl - someone the announcement had described as devoted and as having a few tricks up his sleeves. To the left, and more prominent than her former, is the beautiful Mira Darklynn. Tori scrunches her nose at the assessment, knowing well that taking time to appreciate something or someone aesthetically could wind up poorly.

Still, it didn’t change anything.

Aside from that first strike, the two cast wary glances at each other, giving Tori the idea that they only teamed for that initial attack and had no alliance protecting them from each other. The tension between them could erupt at any moment, and Tori would make use of them taking each other out as best as she could, should that happen. As her opponents, she dares not lower her guard, despite their lack of a follow up attack.

“Victoria, right?” Kasimir inquired.

With a snort, Tori shrugs, “Well, if I’m not, you both just attacked an innocent bystander!”

Not missing a beat, Kasimir continues, “it is a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for the surprise; we are, after all, rivals in this competition. Without reason, we could have had a lovely dinner first.”

“You will be a tough opponent, after all,” Mira chimes in cheerily. “I simply will not go down without a fight!” In contrast, Tori is taken by the overall pleasant-ness of her opponents. Unless it’s a trap. That wouldn’t be good.

“Enough chit chat,” Tori grunts, raising her fists. “I came here to fight, not to talk the night away.”

Kasimir sighs and swings his sword in hand, “How unpleasant.”

As she predicted, having two opponents at once is no easy task. The pair fought with no kind of rhythm, sometimes swinging their swords at each other, and other times going after Tori and her punches. All she can do is wait for some kind of opening to get close and punch them out, but it takes its time to show. Her stamina wearing thin, Tori chews on her cheek, managing tiny blows that have yet to really do much more than smart at her opponents.

In frustration, Tori channels the power of her Runes into her gauntlets and charges. To her delight, Mira does little to dodge, and as Tori closes in, she swings. In a beautiful moment, fist makes contact with bone as Tori’s bracers collide with Mira’s cheek. Then, it’s gone as fast as it came.

Tori had made a mistake in going after Mira in close quarters. After the initial blow to her cheek has stunned her opponent, Tori unleashes a volley into her stomach. And, for as many punches as the woman took, Tori notices that there’s a smile creeping its way onto Mira’s face. The sharp pain in her abdomen sends off the final red flag that her mistake is great.

A hidden blade attached to Mira’s wrist has cut a small hole in Tori’s armor and allowed the dagger to sink into her flesh. Had her armor not been there, more of the blade could have found its way into her body and forced Tori into an immediate loss.

As it is, Tori reels backwards, pressing her hands on the gash and doubling over. Blood dribbles through the cracks in her fingers and a rusty taste fills her mouth. Before she can stop herself, Tori’s knees hit the ground and the collision is rocking through her joints. She yelps in pain, but grits her teeth, quickly cutting off much more noise. Too early she has taken too much of a blow, This one could end her if she isn’t careful.

Seizing the moment, Kasimir is ready to gain the upper hand, and the hilt of his sword slams into Tori’s back, knocking her forward and seemingly down for the count. The blood loss is worrisome, making her fight to keep awake, but the pain helps. It keeps her alert.

As she prays for a miracle, Tori hears a sinister comment.

“Just to make sure you don’t get back up…” Then, boots are colliding in her side, not far from where she was stabbed by Mira’s damned hidden dagger. Three kicks, and then a snarl of rage.

“That is ENOUGH!” Kasimir bellows and charges for Mira, and the force of his impact sends her soaring through the air and into one of the legs of the gazebo. With a heave, Kasimir rolls his shoulders and leers at Mira. “You Shadow fiends have no morals!” he shouts, waving his sword for emphasis. “How unnecessary for you to kick a downed opponent!”

Her face torn between a grimace of pain, a snarl of indignance, and twisted in confusion, Mira peels her body from the fractured structure and throws her hands in the air. “What are you doing!?” she demands, almost offended in appearance. “Why would you stop me from taking out an adversary?” Her posture shifts as she yells all kinds of insults at Kasimir, who shrugs them off in the name of dignity.

Then, the daggers are in the air.

Tori rolls out of the way as Kasimir deflects and dodges the blades. With each motion, he draws closer to Mira. From the safety of the bushes, Tori lets Kasimir handle Mira as she tries to find some solution for the constant source of blood pouring from her stomach.

Kasimir begins swinging his blade with the ferocity of a tiger. Flames have sparked at his hands, ready to ignite into something larger, but it’s not until he knocks Mira’s rapier from her hands that he lets them grow big enough to use as an attack. “Your brutality makes me sick,” he growls, letting the flames engulf his fist as he delivers a particularly devastating blow to Mira.

In her shelter, Tori makes a mental note to apologize to Clare as she rips the loincloth from her armor. the fabric wraps nicely around her torso, forming a tourniquet to stem the flow of blood. She peeks over the bushes to see Kasimir rolling one of his shoulders. Mira must be out for now, but now, Tori is more ready than ever to rejoin the fight.

As much as she doesn’t want to hurt Kasimir, he was the one foolish enough to let her get away. One thing Tori had learned over the years was to keep her cool during a fight and to keep tabs on all opponents. Not that she has a lot of room to talk about the keeping cool thing, but at least she was aware of Mira not laying on the ground anymore.
“Probably not a good sign,” she mutters, realizing that Mira not being anywhere out in the open could only mean that she is hiding somewhere and waiting to strike. She creeps along the shore, waiting for Kasimir to draw closer.

With an almost arrogant step in his stride, Kasimir paced on the bridge, looking around the apparently empty garden. “Kind of jumped the gun on that one, Kas,” he sighs. Looking over his shoulder, he takes notice of Tori’s absence and lets out a sigh. “Maybe I should have let that vampire take out the fist-y girl. If only she could have some sportsmanship about it.”

From beneath the bridge, Tori waits for Kasimir to come into range. When he does, her Rune infused gauntlets strike upwards. The boards of the bridge are more than happy to give way to the force as Tori jumps back. Kasimir falls ungraciously, landing flat on his back.

He stares, dazed and confused about what has just happened.

Panting, Tori steps over him and grins. “Hope you didn’t count me out!” she greets. Offering her hand to help the mage up, she waits until his weight is balanced in that precarious half-standing spot, and lets go.

Her laugh is loud and rude as he splashes back into the little pond, helpless to the effects of gravity. Holding her belly more from the stinging pain than laughter, Tori offers her hand once more to Kasimir, only to be greeted by a fireball that bursts violently against her chestplate. The heat radiates against her exposed skin as the flames consume her flesh. A scream tears from her throat, high pitched and panicked, as Tori falls to her knees and desperately splashes water wherever there is fire.

“How unpleasant,” Kasimir mutters, standing without help and swinging his sword around in his hand. Readying another fireball, he waits for Tori to lift her head and look at him. The flesh is bright pink, pain caused more by heat than actual fire - after all, the real part had hit her armor, while the smaller parts had barely tinged her flesh. He watches the terror widen her eyes as Kasimir lets the flame free fall in a careful arc, aimed for her face.
To protect herself, Tori raises her arms in defense. Her balance shifts, no longer held up by her arms, and the flame collides, its center hitting her jaw, and the fire taking better than the last.

Her last scream was weak compared to this one. Clawing at her face, Tori sobs and falls into the water. Her fingers find the blistered flesh and singed hairs as she feigns unconsciousness. Kasimir stepps over her, letting his sword drag along the back of Tori’s armor as he goes.
Tori’s teeth grit together against her convulsions and sobs. Her face still feels the flames, despite them being long gone. She watches, only half comprehending, as Mira swoops down from a tree and kicks Kasimir square between the shoulders. Struggling to pull up her weight, Tori leaned on her elbows, watching Kasimir crumple to the ground and unsuccessfully fend off Mira’s swift attacks. When he stills, Tori takes a deep breath and stands, waiting for Mira to turn her attention on her.

A comment that Kasimir made comes to mind.

Vampire.

Mira’s hood has done well to shade its wearer, but Tori can’t help but wonder what would happen if it were to fall off. The burns on her face sting like hell in the sunlight, but the sun is setting, and any kind of opening is dwindling. Steeling her will, Tori runs in a mad dash toward Mira, hoping to accomplish her goal before the Shadow member takes notice.

As Tori yanks backwards on Mira’s hood, that damn hidden dagger has slashed a long gash in her forearm. Mira grips Tori’s wrist and grins, yanking her close and dragging her tongue along the torn flesh.

“Panic tastes so good,” Mira giggles. There is a pause, though, as she realizes that her hood has fallen. “Silly girl! The sun is too far set to do much more than be a bother!”
Frustrated and frankly, humiliated at having her blood licked from her arm, Tori swings at Mira while she gloats. The punch collides with her ribs, and Tori grimaces as she feels bones begin to give way.

Mira yelps and flees, holding her side and letting out a series of wails. “That hurt!” she whines, using her uninjured side to throw daggers.

They are much slower than before, giving away the evidence of pain. Tori bats them away without too much trouble, but a few manage to tear little cuts in her forearm. One manages to stick itself into the strap of leather holding Tori’s chestplate in place, and she pulls it out, trying to appear bored as she flicks it aside.

In a panic, Mira throws a smoke bomb. A delayed explosion has it go off after the capsule has already rolled behind Tori. “Stupid smoke bomb!” Mira growls, readying another one as Tori grabs her wrist.

Pulling Mira close, Tori mirrors the grin from before. After a whine from Mira, Tori closes the gap, forcing her lips against the vampire’s, but only briefly. “Panic tastes so good,” she echoes, slamming Mira into the tree.

The vampire gives a whimper, but makes no move to get back up.

Tori takes a moment to make sure that Kasimir is still alive - he is - and moves to leave the garden. If this fight has done anything, it has enforced her dislike of flowers. As she wipes her mouth, a look of disgust on her face, Tori looks to the sky. Maybe, if she makes it in time, she can share dinner with Clare, and they can talk about their fights.

The thought puts a spring in her steps as Tori hurries back to the grounds. An official stops her, offering a first-aid ray that she gladly accepts and uses to heal the lighter of her wounds. The stab wound in her stomach, and the gash in her arm are not so readily healed by small magic, however. But, they have stopped bleeding.

The first thing Tori does is take a trip to the infirmary; they put stitches in her arm and use magic to help close the wound in her stomach, then dress it and give strict bedrest orders. It will be a long recovery, but Tori refuses to not be at her best for the next fight.

After dinner alone, Tori returns to her room and flops into bed, asleep by the time her head hits the pillow. The day was long and arduous, but sleep offers sweet release.
Here, almost nothing can worry her.