@berthindeath ; 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒. ( accepting ) .
↳ [ SIX ] for receiver to witness sender get hurt which sends them into a violent rage.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘. corruption seeps in every corner of every crumbled buildings' crevice. flicker of one's candle is snuffed out permanently. the deceased ravaged, their entrails exposed and limbs scattered to the wayside. their plate-wear dented from endured impact of blows, scuffed by fearsome claw marks. stone structures set alight in flames, clear indicator for ruination of weisshaupt's once impenetrable defenses.
feet splayed in assumed stance at a wide berth from grotesque abominations drenched in sickening corruption. the encroaching horde ne'er wanes. their numbers increase with each progress made plunging the fortress's depths to reach razikale. ymir's stalwart defense unyielding, leading the charge; carving a path through the mass of blighted puppets. her might unfaltering. her focus honed toward the towering doors afar, blocked by twin hurlocks hurling boulders their way.
instinctively does ymir skirt out of reach. shield aloft to block oncoming debris as it collides harshly in to the earth. bloom of dirt puffs outward, delaying her from lowering the shield. none could have suspected 'twas a diversion for ghouls to seize an opportunistic close-ranged attack at all sides.
clamorous weapons in tandem to a familiar voice shrieking alerts ymir, automatically contorting her uppermost torso toward gwen to survey her situation. bearing witness to a mere ghoul penetrating their defenses (all because you were distracted, careless) and land a strike upon the woman sent a shudder of adrenaline coursing up her spine. digits in-curl her weapon's hilt tightly akin wanting to replicate choke-holding her newfound target.
the hurlocks are secondary in this instance. they are destined to perish by her hand. swift as her feet can carry, ymir sprints into action; flail raised. reeling it back, she clicks a button, and thrust forth; the spiked skull is projected forward to successfully impale the ghoul's temple. her arm jerks back forcefully, causing the ghoul to fall. it struggles to rise. soulless gaze sharpen a glare fixed to the tainted creature as she approaches it. their time to reach ghilan'nain's dragon is finite, thus ymir's boot hovers above to heed bones crunching beneath the weight of her greaves. splatters of dark crimson contrast mourn watcher's pale attire.
still does this not quench her thirst for vengeance. eyes are seeing red; intellect drowning in impulsivity. ferocity stretch back lips to form a snarl. blood is burning, bubbling concoctions only a natural-born soldier can remedy through acts of violence to spare them from feelings of helplessness. clicking the button once more, a spike from her flail cleanly exits the ghoul's temple and retracts back into place. swiveling on a heel does ymir march on.
her rage emptied out through painted lips with a battle cry. charging recklessly into battle as an embodiment of carnage. those who cross her path will not see the light of day.
