clair de lune
In urban areas, chalkos from the earth is hard to simply come by. What used to be here is now stored in a warehouse just outside the city limits, guarded heavily by city watch. A plan is made to raid the warehouse and take what you can for your own stores. But be careful: you won’t be the only mages on the battlefield, and the Chalkos dust in the air will make for an explosive battle. 4d2 Chalkos per post, lose -1HP at the start of each day.
She expected a battle, but is greeted with war.
Larcei’s body slams against tiled floors, her back arching and body forced into a short spasm as pain makes it rounds through her hot blood. It hurts, reminding her that she is alive and fighting.
“GRAH!” she chokes, her pupils dilating with rage, “Y-you’re gonna regret that! You mages and your fancy tricks... How ‘bout I fight fire with fire?!” Isaachian feet kick themselves up and off the ground, sending their agile body with it. Before her foe can react--before they can ready another blast of their controlling wind magic--she turns to one of the nearby stores of chalkos. It is a humble barrel, its lid left half ajar. Seeing an opening, the length of her stellar Brave Sword enters the barrel. And a bright flash of light follows, and when she seizes her prized blade from the container, it glows with newfound strength.
“Keh! You think that’ll save you? Give it up, girlie. I’ve got that stuff runnin’ through my blood!“
But give up, she does not. The guard prepares their spell in the palm of their hand, and when they flicks it forward to unleash a hurricane at her, Larcei engages. Her movements are swift, her winged feet darting just out of harm’s way while keeping up her advance. With measured steps, death arrives. And its fury knows no bounds.
“Take this!”
Swordarm swings, and when the gleaming edge--the extension of itself--slashes the side of the soldier, sparks of light fly from the open wound like a deluge of shooting stars. Those sparks then explode into an inferno, razing the guard and rending them neutralized by the time Larcei finishes her swing. She looks to her sword in amazement, surprised that her last-ditch effort actually worked. So much exposure to chalkos has enhanced her mother’s heirloom, allowing Larcei’s passion to manifest as magic during battle.
“Huh, guess that’s the end of it,” she whispers to herself, before turning to her allies. The fires of fighting almost made her forget that they were supposed to be on a mission, staging a heist against this warehouse’s chalkos by nightfall.
She returns to them, treating herself to a quick glance at the full moon through the only window in the facility. “Hey, guys,” she calls, albeit quietly, “check this out. You can stick your weapons in this stuff and use it to fight off the guards!”
Roll 4d2 = 2, 2, 2, 1; +7 Chalkos!
UP NEXT: @nagavoice; starter for @laslow @atypicalsenerio
