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Colosseum - Round 1, Group A - Gildarts vs Bandit w/ No Name - Printable Version +- Omni Archive (https://omni.zulenka.com) +-- Forum: The Omniverse (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=4) +--- Forum: Camelot (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=14) +--- Thread: Colosseum - Round 1, Group A - Gildarts vs Bandit w/ No Name (/showthread.php?tid=2805) |
Colosseum - Round 1, Group A - Gildarts vs Bandit w/ No Name - Storyteller - 10-12-2015 Gildarts, standing before an unfurled Kingdom flag, gazed across a rolling battlefield at the Bandit With No Name, who herself stood before a small armory and the rebel colors of the Deserters. Up above them, a packed crowd cheered, waiting for the signal that would commence the 'festivities.' Someone gestured for silence, and just like that, there wasn't a sound in the building as Victor von Magnus walked onto the small platform near the center of the massive structure. With a smile, he picked up the padded hammer and smashed it into the gong, signalling the fights to commence. Quote:Judge – Trixie Exile - Gildarts - 10-14-2015 Sudden thunder. The roar of the audience howled into the sky and beneath the spread of blue, rested the broken stone of the colosseum as it sprawled out before them, bathed in the smoldering sunlight. The man stood tall, with his face framed by the familiar jagged collar of his well-used cloak. Dark eyes skimmed along the gladiator-esque surroundings and with a great breath, he took in what would be his new “world.” The scent of blood nibbled at his nose and his senses grew muddled with the incessant crackling of distant fans. The honor he bore so openly on his chest now tangled with nerves that weighed heavy on his mind. In this colosseum, he faced the impossible, however, he would rise to that challenge for redemption. This stance, his fighting, was all he had ever had. Every time he fought, it was with purpose, to prove them wrong. Their screams pounded on his ears, but Gildarts defined his own worth not by his audience's approval, but by his own power. All the muscles in his body aligned with the same ferocity etched on his face and as the tension crawled up his spine, clawing at him with chilled scratches. Standing before the veteran fighter was an insidious looking warrior. Crimson sparks glowed on her spiked clothes and the distinguished skull panted on her face could be seen haunting him from across the battlefield. He nodded to the woman, a simple and noble gesture, meant only as an agreement to a fair fight. The strap of her rifle nagged on her shoulder, she had to remind herself from the distracting thought, that there wasn't enough time, or maybe there was. A gong was bashed and radiated with sound. Battle-borne wind spun in a gusting wave with her rapid movement. The rifle was pulled over her shoulder with force that rived her shirt. The snout of her weapon aimed at Gildarts, and it didn’t take long for her finger to find the trigger. Bullets shredded into the air and the cascade of their thunder followed. Gildarts remained stern and unflinching as he waved a hand and they evaporated on contact of an invisible shield. Bandit calculated their lack of effect, "Damn." She was fast, and in a blink, Gildarts found her movement erased by the crumbs of burning sand in his eyes. He winced and a hand reached as though to clear away the stinging, yet though the veteran could not see, not a moment of his focus detached from her growing footsteps. The woman didn’t bother to brush the grime from her knuckles as she waved a hefty hammer high above and closed the last of the distance between them. A few grains later, the speared hammer daunted just over his head. Her biceps readied, her form perfect, as the blow threatened to fall. But Gildarts was prepared and from his hand, a sweep of magic flung forward in the shape of a narrowing slice. There was just enough momentum to cut an inch from the handle of the hammer before it was knocked from her hands by his elbow slamming into her abdomen. Immediately, the woman recoiled at the immense force and her fingers went numb just long enough for her grip to loosen from the hammer, it was flung aside. Gildarts didn’t give her the chance to reach for the rifle slung over her shoulder, he crushed another punch into her. She met his brutality with a bit of her own as his jaw was slammed into his tongue and the bandit was briefly filled with pride. The two exchanged blows and Gildarts’ stand slowly ebbed backwards, he had hoped to draw her away from her menacing hammer, but in the process, he realized only too late, that he had been cornered. The sharp prod of another of her knuckles slammed into his ribs. With a fresh growl, Gildarts captured his rage and grasped the side of the woman’s shoulder, he used this threshold and slammed her into the glowing barrier. Gildarts held her there, but the Bandit With No Name only smiled as she spat with fresh fire, “You think you have me?” No, she wouldn’t go down this easily. With the whip of her neck, her thick skull rammed into his. Gildarts flinched as he felt the sudden pain hot on his forehead and in the opening, the bandit took her chance. [spoiler] Quote: I used: 739 words, and these moves which I include here:[/spoiler] Re: Colosseum - Round 1, Group A - Gildarts vs Bandit w/ No - Bandit With No Name - 10-16-2015 Gildarts recoiled, white grease paint smeared over the bridge of his now-bruising nose. The magical proctor grimaced as the raider swatted his firm grip from her shoulders and planted her hands on either side of his head, interlacing her fingers at the nape of his neck. Tugging down with her powerful biceps, she grunted brutishly and drove her armor-plated knee up into his chin, snapping his head back viciously. His face was back long enough for the bandit to see a thin knick form on the man’s lip, barely a crack on his otherwise pristine features. A jolt of fear stabbed through the bandit as she marveled at his durability, and her hesitation took a moment too many. Gildart’s artificial hand slammed into the woman’s face and pushed backwards, peeling her off of him and tossing her down onto the dirt. The savage woman rolled backwards with the momentum, planted her feet on the ground and slid, a plume of dust following her boots as they skittered over the uneven soil and gravel. Slowing to a stop, her nose caught the sweet scent of diesel and her attention fell upon her lost sledgehammer. The woman snatched the tape-wrapped haft and slowly stood, not allowing her eyes to leave her opponent, and hefted her trophy weapon up onto her shoulder. “Fuck,” she scoffed, wiping a dribble of blood from her chin. “I figured when I saw some dude come out here without any weapons they’d have some kinda weird, bullshit powers.” She plucked a long, bent cigarette from her cargo pocket, tore off the ruined end with her mouth and spit it onto the ground. “And, for what it’s worth,” she shrugged and pushed what remained between her teeth, “I was right.” “But for some kinda’ magical fuckbird…” The woman cranked down on the throttle grip of her maul, a guttural roar churning out of the spike-laden engine that was situated as the head of the weapon. Fire spat out of the protruding exhaust pipes, flickering over the tip of her cigarette, and she breathed in deeply. A haze of fumes encircled the bandit as she exhaled a thick column of smoke, “… you’re pretty tough.” Not another instant was wasted on words and the outlaw lunged forward, the rev of the sledge screaming overhead as she charged in with thundering footsteps. The distance between the two opponents quickly closed, Gildart’s stillness contrasting her haste. His eyes only narrowed, his feet gently sliding apart. As the mallet rocketed down upon him, the mage gently swayed to the side. Sparks danced as steel ground over steel, the spikes gouging narrow tracks into his prosthesis. The adept wizard had almost completely evaded the strike, the hammer only grazing his metal arm before it scraped off. The moment seemed to stall; the bandit toppling forward, a trace of power flaring in Gildarts’ more-human hand. The delicate composition of the scene shattered as the Crash Magic exploded into volatile force while the turbine-crowned weapon simultaneously struck the earth and detonated into a diesel-powered wave of pressure and flame. The twin shockwaves exploded in almost equal potency, the flaring white of Gildarts’ Parry intertwining with the combusting orange conflagration of Sledge’s Hammer. The forms within seemed nothing more than silhouettes in the light of the eruption before they were each flung in opposite directions. Careening across the arena, ash trailing her, the bandit slammed into the edge of the stone rampart, a few bricks crumbling down as she spiraled onward. Finally she was stopped by the barrier, forgivingly preventing her from flying into the stands. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious when she finally opened her eyes, but she wasn’t at the Fountain, so she wasn’t dead yet. … Which probably meant he wasn’t up. Scrambling to her feet, the bandit stumbled towards the center of the ring, sky swirling overhead, vision twisting with every step. Staggering along, she couldn’t help but stop, lean on a post, and puke her brains out. As she rested, heaving for breath, she saw the tip of a shoe peeking out from behind a chunk of stone. Glancing down, she made sure that both of hers were still on before leveling her rifle and edging forward. “Ha!” she barked, “I’ve got y-“ The air rippled on her cheek before a bright, white flash illuminated the side of the woman’s face, Gildart’s invisible fist detonating with horrible impact, whipping the bandit across the Colosseum like a ragdoll. Quote:[spoiler]750 words exactly. Overcoming Power and Pain - Gildarts - 10-18-2015 The cringeworthy crunch of bone and muscle mashed sickeningly together in her ears. Her eyes had caught an ample glimpse of Gildarts who had been blown across the stadium, so what could have possibly hit her so hard? Senseless motion spun and thrashed at her weightless mind until she finally found it within her bruised muscles to rise again. Meanwhile, the invisible punch still throbbed at her jaw, there was a never-ending pitch in her ears, and the bandit could only hold her head to steady the damage done. On the far side of the battlefield, an agonized breath stretched into Gildarts’ all but broken ribs. Another inhale shuddered as he felt a sharp, molten pain prickle like a fresh slap, across the entire right side of the body. It had been where the hammer and his magic ignited, he now couldn’t feel anything other than the stabbing of spear shrapnel that clung, embedded deep into his insides. Blood drenched his shredded bandages and he could taste the same iron on his tongue. Not one to curse, he let out a groan and slowly the two blurred arenas morphed into one. Specks of crimson rain trailed on the ground, he clenched his side and his face wore an expression of weary torment. Another step delivered him right into the bandit’s crosshairs. He had blown her to the other side of the coliseum! But the distance gave her an advantage, now, she didn’t have to be close to hit him. A greasy smile spread across her bruised lips as she whispered so silently, so surely, “You’re mine.” He noticed too late, and the laser shots fired one by one. They glinted like stars as they ricocheted from his silver limbs, yet burned and sizzled into the splotches where his pale skin became marked with the color of bubbling flesh. The veteran’s teeth clenched as he tried to reposition the pain. It was distracting. The magic wouldn’t form in his hand. And she kept firing. The ferocious power of crash magic welled up within him, shaking the Prime from the inside out. More destructive than the rifle’s single-shot pattern, hotter than even its searing beam, was the force that now surged within him and overwhelmed the last of his chained restraint. The edges of his eyes grew dim as the raw energy devoured him from within. Waves of rock quaked below them and showered upward in reverse rain. The earth below his feet cackled as his energy was unleashed. Power flashed in the pale, hot energy and continued to flood in steaming waves off of his body. With blistering speed, Gildarts arrived before the bandit could even completely lower the scope from her eye, only to have her puffed-up, half-squinting gaze widen in horror at the haunting shadow that once resembled her opponent. The energy flushed through the air in growing waves of power, his wounds seemed to be dribbling all the more, with no effect on his featureless composure. Glowing eyes slanted in malevolent crimson diamonds. The cape flickered behind him, sawing vehemently against the newfound wind. One last, aimless blast spewed from the gun’s barrel. Whether it was intentional, or fully out of the churning fear that grew in her stomach, no one would know, as Gildarts reached for the gun and held it in his hands before applying enough force with his hands to break it in two. The weapon, seemingly a pesky annoyance for the magical guy with bullshit powers, was tossed aside after a notable crack could be seen forming in the blackened steel snout. Next, he reached for her. Though the man’s presence was revolting her with force, and bandit’s mangled insides were grating against one another, still, he seemed serenely composed as he reached for her. She quickly stepped back, yet the realization grew in her stomach, coiling with the cold sensation of fright, that there would be no possible way to escape his speed. Still, he loomed closer. Instinct prodded her gut and her black dreads swished with a dodge. He stepped again, displaying his wrathful might, the fighter’s intent was not torture, only to win the battle. Another step. Suddenly, his voice administered compassion, despite his horrific form, "Give up." “Don’t force me to use this!” The bandit’s eyes dipped to what she had hidden behind her slender form. Another smile twisted on her lips as in the flickering light of his energy, the hidden hammer glittered with flight and swung at him. [spoiler] Quote: I used: 750 words[/spoiler] Re: Colosseum - Round 1, Group A - Gildarts vs Bandit w/ No - Bandit With No Name - 10-19-2015 Gildart’s already outstretched hand blurred with speed as it swatted her attack away, easily deflecting the hammer from its path and embedding it into the dirt at his heel. Before the bandit even had a chance to blink, the wizard’s fingers were around her neck. The man’s searing white sorcery was all she could see, the oppressive presence of his magic ripping away at the earth around them, the tournament grounds slowly eroding as his power sheared it into crumbling pebbles. His burning eyes narrowing into a silent threat as he slowly tightened his grip, enough to let her feel his might though merciful enough to allow her to breathe. “It’s over,” he growled with a supernaturally echoing voice, the failing illusion of calm holding back a sea of emotion that roiled in his chest. “Stop this. Let it end without any further bloodshed.” Still gripping the end of the handle, the bandit twisted the cuff at the base of the hammer, revving the machine to life. The transcendent mage glanced down as the engine roared, muted as it was from its half-buried position. Sneering, the mage lifted the woman off the ground with ease, fingers pressing ever deeper into her throat. Her brown eyes locked onto the burning slits in the shadow, her defiant stare refusing to diminish even as he crushed the life out of her. “Heh,” she choked, a bloody grin splitting her mask of paint, “I was kinda hoping you’d ‘force’ me to use this.” There was no time for the mage to respond when the deep reverberations of the hammer’s engine suddenly came to a crescendo. A blaze split the earth, sputtering red licked out from the cracks of the fissure before a pulse of harnessed horsepower shattered the ground below Gildarts’ feet, blowing his up and away in a swath of fire. Gildarts released his opponent as he stumbled backwards over the collapsing earth, quickly regaining his footing in the broad crater that had formed underneath him. The glowing red things that were once his eyes searched the area and found the wily desert-dweller already as far away as one of the tall stone barricades that dotted the battlefield. The radiant wizard cast his hand forward and the fluttering torrent that surrounded him coalesced into a silvery tide that he cast forward with the flick of his wrist. It crashed forward over the field, expanding into a huge net of magical cables, dicing everything in its path into neat little cubes. Panting as she sprinted, the bandit leapt for the thick obstacle as the attack swept towards her, massive squares being chopped into the rock and mortar with a huff of powder and pebbles. Breathing heavily as she leaned on the wall, the woman glanced around searching for an answer, any answer, to the problem of abject horseshit that now persecuted her. The ground split as Gildarts trod forward, air crackling with lightning at the very presence of his power. Finding himself before the obstacle, he planted both hands on the wall and a white light shined from within it, a gleaming grid forming over its surface that quickly grew brighter. With a flash, the barricade exploded into a series of tiny hexahedrons, scattering into the air and crumbling before him like so many children’s playthings. The empowered man was already charging another bolt of Crash magic when he saw her. “S’up, fucko?” she asked from the weapons rack, broadsword in hand. Tossing the blade high into the sunlight above, she wheeled back the maul, cranked the throttle, and swung. A thunderous CLANG rang out as the hammer impacted the weapon, the shockwave sending it flying towards Gildarts with startling speed and the approximation of accuracy. Gildarts’ eyes flew wide and he hastily cast, another gargantuan net engulfing the field. The sword was all but instantly obliterated into jangling steel blocks as the Crash rushed forward, unrelenting. A spray of gore fanned into the air and an uncharacteristically shrill yelp of pain echoed into the stands above. The competitor yet stood, blood covering her from shoulder to shoelaces. She breathed heavily, deep checkered lacerations laid into her left shoulder and chest, her armor completely shredded away. A single line was carved over her now closed and bloody right eye, though the other stared on with untold anger. Red rushed over her hand in thick gushes as she grasped at what remained of her bicep. At her feet, Sledge’s Hammer. Beside it, her severed arm. [spoiler] Quote:750 words exactly.[/spoiler] What It All Costs - Gildarts - 10-21-2015 Immense heat hung in the air as the gruesome scene hushed the audience for a moment before an immense burst of approval rumbled from above. The girl’s flesh simmered and Gildarts tasted immediate remorse. The surfacing shame was hot on his cheeks, as was the fresh splatter of her blood. He had warned her, hadn’t he? And now her arm was the first of many casualties. Disturbed, he looked at his own silver hand, the one he had lost long ago from the same power revolting within him. He could still feel the distant tingle of his fingertips, and now, she would be like him. He had overestimated himself then, and today, he had overestimated her. The flash of his magic web jolted him back to the sickening reality. Gildarts could only blink as he took in the horrific image and the overwhelming tide of his magical power began to ebb once more. In his impulse-driven mercy, he nearly offered her his own hand to help her up, but that was before he caught a glimpse of the rushing fire that rose with the onset of pain in her eyes. The veteran saw himself reflecting in her black eyes. He had forgotten his lost limbs, and plaguing his mind with shreds of disgust, was the immobilizing loss of his honor. Air splashed into her lungs, but not fast enough. Bandit howled as her other, gravel-caked hand met the warm, juicy blood that poured from her bicep. Her blood-chilling caterwaul quickly filled the arena, prickling even the villains in the audience who had half a heart. Dry gulps forced down her throat in a vain attempt to swallow the profound pain. She could not set aside the endless inferno of her suffering, and she was drowning in it. In her frenzied, maddened eyes, she sought relief from the insufferable hell, the pain found its outlet with a fluent cascade of perturbing curses. "Motherfucker!" she finalized as the blood continued to drool in waterfalls to the ground while her dreads became heavy with soggy crimson dye. Bandit checked over her shoulder and Gildarts seemed to have powered down. Maybe there was enough time before he would strike again. His expression had turned to stone. Their skin became pale and flushed; both had lost blood, both seemed to have been hit with the savage blow of unearthly revelation, and both seemed to be standing on their last leg, each of their endurance trickling where it had once flowed in the whirling streams of combat. Salty sweat pooled on his lip and hung like dew off of his stubble. There was a motionless silence that hung between them. The skull on the woman’s face had wilted now and the veins bulged in her face with unquenchable rage. Gildarts admired the woman’s strength, the respect for his opponent burned in his eyes. He shed his cloak to reveal his own two lost limbs, his battle scars. The rogue’s arm still dripped consistently with the blood Gildarts had shed. The mage executed his resolve and applied enough force to tear off his silver arm. The empty shell of armor clattered in the dirt near her feet. Gildarts felt a little lighter, relieved to show his opponent that he was not made of only staggering violence, though no amount of sacrifice would lift the insufferable burden from his shoulders. The woman snarled. Did he think that made them even? The bandit only scoffed, “Fool.” Hadn’t he seen her? When she had put a noose around the stub of her arm, her eye caught on her rifle, which was just within an arm’s reach. A repulsed grimace turned into a thrilled gleam as her white teeth offered a smile and its snout prodded the air in front of the unarmed, defenseless, and noble man. She would see to it that this repulsive weakness would be his demise. Bandit was desperate and by the look of it, her enemy was going to triumph, so she took a risk to end it all, despite how Gildarts was less than five feet away from her. A quick click of her index and the battery was freed from the carbine; she was afraid of overshooting her last chance, so she did what any armless freak would do, and clutched it close as her feet kicked her haggard body off the ground. She ran at him with her hand clutching the grenade, and herself, into the unsuspecting Prime’s torso. The battery ignited. [spoiler] Quote: 749 words[/spoiler] Re: Colosseum - Round 1, Group A - Gildarts vs Bandit w/ No - Bandit With No Name - 10-22-2015 As red light swelled from the brick of metal clutched to the warrior’s breast, her gore-spattered body plowing into his, she called out a final war cry: “SUCK PLASMA, YOU LIMBLESS FU-“ Gildarts’ only remaining fist slammed into the woman’s cheek, derailing her from her reckless charge and lifting her off of her feet. As she was midair, the mage snatched the improvised explosive from her hand, moving faster than he believed his body would allow. As the power cell scorched his hand, he flung it with as much might as he could, high into the air above them. The cartridge crackled with angry crimson as it soared, threatening to erupt at the slightest provocation. The crowd’s growing anticipation was strung taught like a wire around their throats, choking even the most brazen fan into silence. A flare of white revealed Gildarts’ previously invisible wall of Disassembly Magic and the overcharging battery burst apart into hundreds of tiny cubes. Each of the charged fragments began to ignite in sequence, stunning vermillion energy booming and reporting in an unpredictable cascade upwards, like volatile fireworks struggling to engulf the sky in dazzling combustion. Yet another explosion was gifted onto the hordes that filled the seats that surrounded them and a resounding acclamation was given in return. The caterwauls of the hungry masses washed over the competitors and, for a brief moment, the struggle halted. “Hey,” the bandit gasped, pushing her blood-soaked hair from her face, “if you win, let me watch the rest of the matches, k?” She clutched at her stump, the makeshift tourniquet doing little to prevent her vital fluid from gushing out. The wizard still looked into the sky, the battery not done flashing in a brilliant display. “Of course,” he said almost absent-mindedly, his words distant, yet naggingly compassionate. Groaning, the marauder kicked herself away from him before struggling to her feet. “What about you?” she asked, her lips pale against her ashen skin. “You want to hang around for the rest of the fights?” “I think I would,” the wizard spoke serenely, eyes still locked on the sky. “Cool,” she agreed weakly, her knees visibly wobbling beneath her. “Well,” she sighed, prompting her opponent to face her once again, “let’s finish this shit.” “Yes,” he replied, somehow sorrowful as he stepped into a fighting stance, “it’s about that time.” The woman bound to the side, another net of Crash Magic sweeping past her, not yet expanded widely enough to ensnare her. Her good shoulder hit the dirt and she rolled onto her feet, boots drifting atop the rocky floor. Counter-balancing the skiddering slide with her hand, she came to a stop, the shining object of her attention just in front of her. Gildarts’ eyes went wide and she grinned mischievously, thick splashes of red slopping down. The wizard turned his hand towards her and she darted forward, snatching it up. She hastily lifted it into a guard, magic crashing into it with an ear-splitting, “KLANG!” The dust cleared slowly, and the bandit was standing right where she had been, unscathed. In front of her was Gildarts’ prosthetic arm, still smoldering, shallow hatch marks dug into the surface. With a knowing smirk she growled, “I figured as much.” Brandishing the complex artificial like a club, she rushed across the field and bore down on the stunned wizard. The firm joints held as she brought it onto of him, battering beleaguered man with his own limb. The mage was so bewildered that he was unable to prevent the second blow from finding his chin, knocking him to the ground. The woman couldn’t help but laugh out, “Stop hitting yourself!” as she continued to beat the steel into his bones. Gathering his power, Gildarts screamed, “ENOUGH!” and the air reverberated with the force of his shout. The vibration ruined the already woozy bandit’s equilibrium, causing her to stumble away as her legs tripped over each other in a hopeless tangle. As soon as she found herself outside the range of the sonic barrage, she shook her head and reclaimed her focus. The magus was already on his feet, a blaze of magic formed over his fist. He cocked his arm back and locked eyes with his opponent. “Before we end this,” he said with an uncharacteristic reticence, “what is your name?” The bandit shook her head and chuckled, “I don’t got one.” Their forms blurred into motion, Gildarts’ magic meeting the bandit’s brutality, and the winner was decided. [spoiler] Quote:748 words[/spoiler] Re: Colosseum - Round 1, Group A - Gildarts vs Bandit w/ No - Bandit With No Name - 10-27-2015 The dust slowly cleared away slowly from around the two contestants, the battle finally over. Gildarts struggled to push himself from the ground and a heavy boot planted on his back, pushing him back down. “Stay down,” the woman panted, sickly amouts of sweat running from her forehead, “I can’t do that again.” The man huffed, his trembling arms not allowing him to stand. “How...” he began, his words catching on his dry lips, “how did you do that?” The bandit offered a weak grin, “Hell if I know.” She narrowed her eyes at the otherworldy wizard as she lifted her foot. “We done? Can we be done now please?” He offered a small nod. “Good.” Her right arm crossed her body and she fished around in her pocket and clumsily retrieved her phone. Her bloody thumb swept over the screen, leaving a streak in its wake. “Roll over, asshole,” she grumbled and fussed with the buttons on the side of the phone. “Eh?” Gildarts groaned, looking over his shoulder. She plopped down next to him and reclined, holding her phone at arm’s length. “Mother fucker I’m getting a picture, roll over.” “What? I don’t understand,” he complained, but still acquiesced. Struggling to hold the device out far enough to get a shot, the bandit swore under her breath. “I can’t get this thing far enough aw-“ Her eyes flashed as an idea entered her mind. Scramlbing up, she grabbed the man’s battered metal arm, and stuck the phone into its fingers. She repositioned herself, making sure to hold her mangled stump-limb near his. She then extended the metal arm all the way out, its thumb on the button. “Say ‘Suck it!’” she commanded, and the picture camera flashed. Gildarts frowned after the image was captured, glaring over to the ruffian. “Do you have to use such language in every sentence?” When there was no reply, he looked over to the warrior, only to find her unconscious. Shaking his head, he scooped the bandit up and draped her gently over his shoulder. The mage carried her towards the exit, the crowd cheering their departure. |