Weep the Storm (Dion & Amara)

The Drakeblades; a group of reputable standing in various cities across Mysticaria. It was said they stopped The Kraken from drowning the ports of the west, and were heroes for their various other uncountable deeds. The words of their bravery, tales of their compassion for others, their mission to keep the people safe were among the most common things she could recall about these enigmatic saviors. They were particularly easier to find back home than another group of less notoriety, and it was no secret to herself that Stella held an interest in individuals that beheld such captivating qualities. Mercenaries, sellswords, call them what you may have but they all stuck to a similar creed that bound them together.

Whatever claims to morality which they may have naively clung, their ideals were no different than these famed locals the witch had grown rather fond and curious over. Tales of a great tree, blessings of the land, and names of those which spread into legend among the villages along her trail from the Northern Scar – fascinated the Mysticari to unfathomable ends. The fate dealt this world was not to their liking, and so they sought to change what they could, bit by bit, until all that became of it was more than a confluence of disruption and change. It was the very makings of a second chance at hand before her very eyes.

To stave off a beast of myth was a remarkable effort in of itself. After all it wasn’t every day that mere mortals triumphed over the strength of an eikon, or a creature of comparable strength. It was clear to Stella that by all recollections of the tale she could recount, these fighters were not the typical run of the mill heroes as those back home, but perhaps something so much more. Maybe one among them might be the very one she had been waiting all this time to meet. The once heralded sorceress would admit that the notion of a proper introduction piqued her intrigue, enough to warrant an investigation for herself. Audience with an apparent guardian, or ‘Guru’ as this one was referred to, would require a more thorough and proper understanding of the local custom to possibly obtain.

Naturally, the witch would content her palette and appetite with a more pragmatic approach to sating it. The company of a lowly bartender was easily come by in any cultured world, and potentially a boon of secrets and information the Namekians and other villagers might have held clutched to their breasts. Her mind raced with questions as she made her way to the apparent locale of this little troupe’s headquarters, coming to stop before its edifice as she gazed upon all its humble splendor. Whom among them was the strongest? Who commanded such a reputable company to its present glory? Over a hundred years' worth of questions might finally be quelled beyond those doors.

This Diono’s - was almost fitting to those struggling to make their name in this world, humbler and more deserving of paupers than those of famed renown such as these Haddocks. Stella could only scoff with amusement, the smallest of smiles creeping onto her face as she ascended the freshly built steps, forcing the oaken doors open with an arrogant shove from her palm. The sound would echo throughout the vestibule of the establishment, prompting several of the helping hands to rise from their seats; a look of bewilderment upon their faces as they glimpsed this stranger of a traveler.

Stella would skim the small crowd with cold eyes, devoid of any interest in these lowly grunts who scarcely held the strength they could wield against the likes of her wrath. Some muttered about the stranger, others were right in readying for a fight that had come to their doorstep. All that remained palpable in the room was the mystery surrounding this newcomer, this blond enigma who carried an ornate staff at her back. A lone bearded man worked up the courage to step forward, keeping enough distance from the enigma to warrant his own safety. ”Don’t know what brings you here, but it’s in poor manners to-” The man’s words cut short by a draw from Samsara; a massive, scarlet blade flaying his blood to the air as he hit the floor - not quite alive, just barely breathing. With a flourish Stella would coat the ground as the phantom blade of the staff turned scythe was cleaned – a soft sigh escaped her lips when she regarded the mess.

”Already a disappointment.”

The cold eyes left the floor to look upon the others, now stricken in fear at the loss of one of their most promising, up and coming local trainees. With another low sweep of the blade, a violent force would throw several which sprang to their feet, pitiful armaments and cutlery clattering upon the ground as Stella took several steps in advance. A deep growl would voice her aggravation, as she was beginning to feel this nothing more than a mere waste of her time. Perhaps the saiyan had been wrong as she initially suspected, ancestor or not, his suggestions would hold little credibility if these hollow hides yielded little sport. Cravens the lot of them if these shallow guarantees did not hold their weight in merit.

”Is this all you have to offer? Whimpering cowards incapable of standing before the face of adversity!?” There was unbridled anger - authority in the tone of her voice. Many in the room remained puzzled and demanded in silence to know what they did to deserve the fate of such an afternoon. The cold yet vibrantly colored eyes skimmed the room once more. Another dissatisfying result in whimpers, and no response. ”Nothing? Then convey to them upon their return, a message if you will.” The witch would leave her instructions with the shaken shift manager for the owners on their return from their day of relaxation. Meanwhile in the hours that followed, a village near the fringe of Guru’s Forest would begin experiencing heavy bouts of fog and unusual lights within the darker parts of the trees. That was before people began vanishing until the village had become emptied, one by one. A lone Namekian would wander into Diono’s later that evening, heavily burned by magical affliction and in dire need of care. He arrives with a warning for Dion Haddock in stuttered breaths before succumbing to his fatigue - “Beware the witch in the wilds.”

TWC:(+1,082)
6/6 KP 0/6 MP 0/250 HP
Stella’s PL: 4,000 (Restrained Might: Active)
Antisense: Active
Resources: Sage’s Staff (2/2), Xtra Terr. (2/2), Galaxy Brain (3/3), FitU (2/2), 1st Escape (1)