Duel:Mahri v Lita, Match 5 of the 2022 Vailkrin Tournament
Duel: Traditional 3 rounds with final defense, 20 minute posting limit. Stakes: Auto-hit to the winner plus loser has to babysit Leoxander. Judges: Meri, Quintessa, Leoxander
Dark Arena
The arena is filled with various corpses, both dead and undead alike. Several zombies seem to be carrying the corpses out of the arena, returning them to the masters they served. Many bodies here look disfigured and ill, clearly abominations constructed by necromancers to serve in the gladiator-like battles held here in the arena. Several of the other bodies though are completely normal, those of which were likely living participants that did not succeed in winning their matches. A battle must have recently gone on here, as the crowds of people step out of the entrance of the area. To the south is the way out, while to the north is a path leading to the back of the arena, and the castle beyond that.
Pre-duel Banter and Introduction
Quintessa is here to host the event tonight, dressed in a long, low cut black gown and an obsidian tiara adorned with red beryl gemstones on her head. Her hair is overgrown and uneven, her hime-style fringe completely unrecognizable, and her black eye makeup, lipstick, and nail polish, contrast her pale, scarred skin. The Countess rises to begin the ceremony, a hand placed upon the podium. “Ladies, gentlemen, and all those that lie betwixt, I am Quintessa of Castle Blackwell and I am proud to present to you the first match of round two. Tonight someone very dear to me will introduce our two competitors… Kanna, if you may.” Quintessa stands to the side to allow the bardess to take over.
Kanna said, "In this corner, we have one of the most lovely artists in Lithrydel ready to rumble, let me hear you roar for Lita!"
Xiembantointh is here in full support of Lita. Some of his work crew came with and they've all had a few rounds of drinks already. As soon as Lita makes her entrance, the group of men take their shirts off to reveal a bit of art! They all have a letter boldly painted on their torsos which spell out T L A I in the color green, but Xiem sees some confused faces and looks down. A guffaw escapes him and he quickly has the fellas swap places, but now they are spelling A T I L. Eventually they figure it all out and stand in the correct order so it reads L I T A. Xiem wolf whistles for Lita and shouts, “wooooo! Litaaa!!!” The group of spectators around them join in cheering for Lita.
Meri whistles and cheers for Lita! She'll do the same for Mahri of course.
Lita is not dressed in any sort of fancy armor. Just the usual little black sundress leaving her arms and shoulders bare, boots from a previous excursion to Frostmaw having been expelled with all the prejudice. Raven curls have been tied back into a braid at least. She's not carrying any specific weapon, just the new dagger tucked in its sheath at her thigh beneath the hem of her dress. She's purposefully avoiding the assembled crowds, though it's not without gratitude to hear some support from familiar voices.
Kanna said, "And in this corner, we have the beautiful veteran of the underground fighting scene, werewolves show your howls for Mahri!"
Meri whistles and cheers for Mahri too!
Mahri wandered into the arena without any grandstanding or fanfare. She didn’t have any weapons visible besides that ever present dagger, no armor even. For those who don’t know her, her quiet demeanor is actually normal. It’s the press of lips and twitching of fingers that might give away her apprehension. Not because she’s in this tournament and, unfortunately her first opponent had to bow out, but because Lita is someone she actually knew and sorta liked. Not, mind the current audience, that was going to deter the she-wolf from winning this round. Silver-grey eyes seek and find familiar faces, giving a nod to them and finally faces Lita, a smile twitches at the corners of her mouth.
Quintessa || Saorsa joins them to serve as referee from her own, protected booth in the stands, her hand placed upon her podium to project her voice. “Before we begin, have you both discussed any wagers, stakes, or special rules for this bout? If not we will default to standard rules (20 min post limit, autohit awarded to winner). Have the duelists agreed on who will be attacking first? If not, the hosts may decide for you. Judges please keep in contact with us during this match, if three judges have not been selected yet I will appoint people to fill the remaining slots.”
Leoxander arrived on scene with a Loravelle in tow. Technically, on his back, his hands locked under the back of at least one leg to secure her there, pending on how much flexibility her attire for the day allowed. Whatever she chose, he insisted on extra layers. Socks and boots over slippers, his old fur lined jacket over whatever dressed her upper half, insisting on the hood over her head… or no dice. He had been reluctant to let her leave the location they’d stayed in the night before, not much sleep acquired on the rogue’s part since he stirred and scrutinized every cough or sniffle or sneeze produced from his human bride-to-be. But she had the power of persuasion in those big doe eyes and perhaps a hint of a pout, and like it or not, he wanted them to be present for Mahri and Lita’s bout; they were pretty much family to the pair. His attire was… awkwardly opposite from what he would normally wear. Baggy ‘borrowed’ cotton ‘sweatpants’ of dark gray, scuffed, simple shoes that laced at the top of his feet rather than to his lower shin, a hooded, heavy fabric shirt with no sleeves that exposed black ink from shoulders to knuckles, only one of the designs on his left bicep touched with some red. Not as surprising would be the fact he was kind of filthy, some of his face washed off though there were vague smears of dirt in a few places he’d missed, darkening the stubble on his jaw and underlining tired eyes.
Lita said, "Bets placed. Believe I get the honors? But-" She mimics Mahri's smirk, narrowing dark eyes at the woman here, "No biting, yeah?" She's teasing, probably. "That's just rude."
Mahri said to Lita, "Not on a first date."
Quintessa || “If both duelists agree to and understand the rules, say ‘Ready,’ and the environmental hazard shall be introduced.”
Mahri said, "Ready"
Lita said, "Ready"
Environmental Challenge
Kanna || Screeches ringing out from above and the ferocious flapping of several pairs of wings drowns out the cheers of the audience as the visage of the creatures of nightmares take to the skies. Giant eight-legged arachnids that have had bat wings attached through some unholy necromantic experiment cloud the skies over the arena to block the moonlight above. Clutched in each of the creatures' pairs of legs are mirrored triangular prisms as large as castle doorways. In a coordinated fashion, the flying spiders swoop downwards to deposit the mirrors along the battlefield, creating a maze of mirrors for the contestants to make their way through. Several copies of Mahri and Lita stare out at the originals from the maze as the last of the mirrors are placed. As the last creature descends, a grafted bat wing pops off of it's back with a sickening crunch, sending it and its mirror tumbling down. The spider lands on top of it's mirror, sending glass shards everywhere. To the contestants' shared horror, however, the pungent smell of dragon's blood hidden in the middle of the prisms rises up, and the sight of silver shards that were lining the back of the mirrors are also revealed. "Whoopsies. That's why you don't get the Novus Moriors to do your homework. We spent a lot of gold on our Silver Dragonblood Maze, so -do- try not to shatter them all?" Kanna's teasing soubrette rings out as the spider rises, coated in silver slivers and dragon's blood. An angry screech roars out as it retreats into the maze to seek out someone to take its anger on. "Let the fight begin!"
Xiembantointh spots Leo with Lora and shoots a wave their way if they look over, but the sweet quiet one seems ill. That’s no fun, but then his focus snaps back to the arena as the familiar smell of dragon's blood hits him. Eyes go wide and fear grips his heart, tying his stomach into knots, but he keeps cheering with the rest and pretending that this is totally okay. There is also silver in the mirrors, which is knows won’t be great for Lita’s opponent either and that still doesn’t make anything better. “C’mon Lita,” he shouts with the crowd.
The Duel
23:54:13Lita is just thankful not to be facing someone with some ungodly magical abilities in the tournament. She'd take a good old-fashioned brawl over reanimated skeletal spiders any day. Mahri was a friend, more so in recent months even but here, just now, she has to be something less. The winged spider abomonations that appear overhead are a distraction and Lita looks up, cursing under her breath. Spiders again? Really?? She's almost grateful when they seem to deposit those mirrors and take flight again. Mirrors weren't so bad, just like one of those fun houses. Except then one shatters, sending the scent of dragon's blood through the air and she wrinkles her nose at it. Well, that was something. Good thing her and Mahri didn't have a bad habit of breaking things... She flickers a glance across the field, tracking the reflections and the multiple images of Mahri that now exist across the field and the distance between them. She sets off at a sprint almost immediately, darting from one mirror to the next, aiming to use the mirrored images to her advantage, hoping Mahri will focus more energy on trying to keep track of her this way. As she draws closer to the Real Mahri (or what she still perceives to be), she takes two steps up the nearest mirror, using it as leverage to launch herself upwards at an angle and bring herself down over Mahri, an elbow aimed for the she-wolf's jaw and a knee angle for her shoulder. They were just getting started, after all.
Leoxander did his best not to entirely drop Loravelle from her perch when those winged creatures came pouring out to construct the difficult transformation within the arena, and it wasn’t just the arachnids that had his pupils dilated small and his complexion a bit grayed. Brow furrowed as he set his fiance to her booted feet, he tore his eyes from the swarm to send a sharp glare in the direction of the Countess. This was potentially a death trap to either duelist, who happened to be two women the rogue was fairly protective over. It took him a moment of standing there, tense, darting his attention back to the pit as the fight began before he hesitantly lowered into a seat on the bleachers beside Lora’. “The hell’re they tryin’ to pull with this bull-” One of those mirrors shattering must have drowned out the last syllable of the pirate’s curse.
Kanna adds sweetly, "Today's duel is brought to you by the Necromancer's Guild. Need something horrifying for your next project? Looking to reconnect with lost loved ones or see what secrets can be found beyond the grave? Don't be shy, send a courier owl to the Necromancer's Guild today!"
00:13:21Mahri looks up at the sound of those wings, thinking bats – or something at least semi-normal and instead is greeted with the sight of flying arachnids. There’s an involuntary shudder of revulsion before she notices that they are carrying and depositing mirrors. Oh, it’s a fun house. Which is fine because she can track Lita by scent rather than site. At least that was the plan until one of those mirrors breaks and she can smell the dragon’s blood imbedded. That suspicious sparkle is confirmed with the announcement silver and dragon blood and she says a few choice words under her breath. The shards are scattered so of course, the wolf is going to be careful where she steps and how, her left hand held slightly away from her body to feel for the mirrors as a guide through the maze. Mahri could hear Lita’s feet on the ground, moving fast and she stopped, watching her own reflection for any sign of Lita coming around a bend in either direction. A mirror shattered close, like right in front of the wolf and more than a few shads flew towards the lycan. Since most of her skin was covered, four or five managed shallow slices through Mahri’s right cheek. The burn of silver brought a choice word or three into existence before she stepped back for the arrival of her opponent. Mahri isn’t unprepared. Beneath their feet, something stirs and winds its way to the surface. Small cracks appear as the vines seek out the she-wolf’s silent call, a dozen yellow-green with blood-red thorns that drip with a toxin meant to incapacitate this time rather than kill, half as many with rough skins meant to wrap and bind. If Lita steps through the space previously occupied by that mirror, the former slither along the ground seeking an ankle to gain purchase on while the thorned vines snake forward to rip through cloth and the skin beneath to deposit their pay-load.
Eleanor arrived, uneasily and less subtly than she'd have liked, to observe the combatants and their creepy-crawly obstacles. The blue crow perched on one cloaked shoulder chittered and croaked hungrily, but the spellrogue seemed to have completely zoned out its incessant monologue of noises in favor of turning her dark-rimmed celadon eyes upon those gathered to observe as well. With a wrinkle of her sun-brushed nose, she tugged at the single flaxen braid within which the majority of her wild curls had been woven into, and picked a position to stand that was within earshot of the crowd while remaining farther than arm's reach from the nearest patron of the martial arts.
Kanna makes a note to switch goblins and undead next round for spiders, since everyone seems to be reacting so well to having them fly by as decor. They're clearly screaming with delight!
00:27:55Lita is not at all surprised when a mirror shatters beneath her knee meets the polished surface of one of those mirrors rather than the she-wolf herself. It wouldn't be much fun if it were so easy. The mirror shatters mostly away from her but even so, the splash of some of that dragon's blood across her legs draws a hiss from the back of her throat and her jaw sets, teeth clenched at the pain of it as she flexes her fingers into fists, reminding herself to breathe. She's less worried about the shattered glass over the ground. The bone charm anklet she wears around her right foot ensures a thin layer of protection around her feet, a necessity when you opted to traipse around the world barefoot. "Mahri," Lita murmurs, taking a step closer towards the she-wolf, the crackle of glass shards beneath her feet echoing between them. Whatever witty remark she might have had though is lost in a moment of confusion as those vines appear, seemingly with one intent and her focus is torn away from Mahri to have to deal with them. She draws her dagger from its sheath, the weight a comfort against her palm, cutting down the vines seemingly as quickly as they come, as she makes her way past the wreckage of that mirror. One of the vines she misses wraps itself around her ankle but instead of skin finds the charms of that bracelet and the trinket snaps, broken, the vine victorious at least in stealing that bit of prize as Lita manages to put a few paces of distance between herself and them, simultaneously twisting back around towards Mahri to send the dagger flying in the woman's direction. Whether she'd hit her or another mirror, as before, her aim here was to distract her from making more of those pesky vines.
Meri noticed Eleanor's arrival and responds to her presence with a surprised lift of a brow. Surprised as she might be to see Eleanor, Meri is happy to remain seated near Magik with her attention mostly on the duel.
Leoxander kept his gaze on the fight as he shamelessly reached to dig around in Loravelle’s robe pockets, searching through her hankies for the bottle of syrup procured a day prior by the healer witch that he knew only as ‘Taly’, thus far. Between listening to the book keeper’s quiet words, narrowed eyes glued on the many reflections of Mahri and Lita in the mess of mirrors, and uncapping that syrup to hand over his partner’s way with an unspoken order, the rogue was multitasking, but his response was delayed a little for his intense concentration on the combat. Sharp vision caught sight of the red lines on Mahri’s features even from the spectator stands, cause for a slight wince as he could relate to that unique form of burning pain. Dragon blood, not so much, but there was no less concern in his steeled stare when Lita suffered from the maze, too.
00:40:58Mahri ’s face was starting to feel like fire ants were crawling all over it – soon it would probably just go numb as the silver worked under the surface. None of the shards had imbedded, thank Sven, but it would like be a distraction as much as the dagger coming her way was. Lita’s aim is pretty good, she’d curse it later because at the moment Mahri is reaching for her own well crafted blade with her right hand, not to throw but to have in hand as she sprints forward to close the gap between herself and the now, she assumes, unarmed vampire. The flying dagger skims past Mahri’s left shoulder. The razor sharp blade slices through the shirt and skin just where arm meets shoulder leaving a gash behind with blood freely flowing and soaking the remains of that sleeve to drip off her fingers. If Lita doesn’t retreat she’ll be confronted by a dagger wielding lycan, the blade held parallel to her forearm and the cutting edge angled outward so when she slashes towards Lita, she means to slice from the other woman’s left shoulder diagonally across her chest and down to the right hip. Those vines aren’t completely incapacitated either. Since Lita made that twist and throw, they had grown in number, more the smooth vines than the thorned, twisting and slithering once again towards Lita to wrap around a calf or ankle. Two rose up like cobra’s ready to strike aiming for the artist’s waist.
Loravelle is struggling to watch the fight unfold as much as she'd like to continue, so when Leo pats her down for that bottle of syrup to get her to drink it, she quietly obeys, grateful for the temporary distraction. While the results won't be immediate, her sneezing and coughing should settle down soon for a while. While aware of just how dangerous dragon's blood and silver could be for vampire or lycan, she has no clue at all how much it would take of each to really harm Lita or Mahri. This thought has her stomach in knots, so she takes Leo's whispered reply as another needed distraction, grimacing when she looks at the pair of women fighting.
00:53:39Lita probably should have kept hold of her own blade, in hidsight. But she'd always been too impulsive for her own good. And she would rather face a dagger wielding lycan than retreat. Even so, those vines twisting around her calf and dragging her to her right knee with a wince might be the only thing that saved her from the full brunt of Mahri's dagger. Even as shards of glass from the floor dig into her skin, the dragon's blood feeling like acid, sending pain through her and it's all she can do to try and think, though she's relying more on adrenaline to react just now. Mahri's dagger finds purchase in her shoulder and she lets out a string of unladylike curses, her right arm reaching across her chest to grasp at the woman's forearm and push her arm away, the dagger hopefully torn from the flesh of her shoulder as well. She can wriggle her fingers, so she'll assume that's a good thing. Though it takes a few moments of internal yelling for her left arm to react to the vines still growing around her and she reaches for one of them now, pulling as hard as she can on the thing, ignoring the pain from any thorns digging into her palm as she aims to rip as much of it up from the ground as she can. Throwing the bulk of it now around the she-wolf, aiming to tie her arm to her torso to try and keep her incapacitated a moment so she might be able to retrieve her own blade again. She might have yelled "Sit!" amidst all the chaos as well.
Xiembantointh narrows his azure gaze on the field, his heart thundering away in his chest and a chilled sensation creeps up, but gets stuck in his throat. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that Lita is a made woman who doesn’t need rescuing! “LITAaaaa!” The crowd cheers again around him and then they start to chant her name, but Xiem is just an infectious guy like that. He feels helpless as those vines wrap around her and he slams the rest of his beer back before yelling, “c’mon girl!”
01:03:42Leoxander took the elderberry syrup back from Loravelle without taking his gaze off the duel, securing the cork before slipping it back into pocket, clearly distracted to answer her whispered questions right away, but when he did it was a murmur that might be picked up on by more sensitive ears. “Trus’, Dove. Soon as this thing’s finished I don’ plan to be in these parts again any time soon.”
01:05:50Mahri || She could feel the side of her face going numb so the pain in her left shoulder has dominance now. When Lita goes down, her swing is off having anticipated a bit more resistance that was suddenly gone. With her forward momentum and the blade still managing to bite into Lita’s shoulder, Mahri more or less trips and flips over Lita while becoming entangled in the ripped out vines tossed her own way. The vines quickly whither and crumble away as they didn’t exactly have a long life span to begin with. The wolf unceremoniously landed on her back, a rather large shard of silvered mirror piercing through flesh in the general area of a kidney forcing a shocked gasp of air into the wolf’s lungs. While Lita is going to retrieve her own blade, the lycan forces down bile and relies on adrenaline to roll to her left, crunching even more of the mirror beneath her body, and reaching for a shard with her right hand, leaving the dagger forged of silver on the ground in favor of the Silver Dragon Mirror shard in her hand. It’s a struggle to get to her feet and she sways a moment, her black shirt and soft leather pants now sporting large patches of even darker blood from her wounds, before racing to catch up to Lita. Even more glass powdered beneath the pound of her boots on the ground and if she gets to Lita before the vampire reaches her dagger, the shard Mahri holds now will be stabbed off the hip and angled for one of Lita’s own kidneys.
Leoxander glanced over Xiembantointh’s way at some point, aware of his presence, his expression still stern and troubled for the situation happening in the pit. Sure, he’d seen both women fight beforehand, but not necessarily against each other at risk of fatal poisoning. He doubted the next time he crossed paths with Quintessa would be as casual and calm as the last unexpected visit, but for now all he could do was watch and wait to see who stood on their feet in the end. After a pause to study the dragon’s profile, he did just that, arms angled inward over a rest on either knee, hands flexing and relaxing in a stressed and anxious manner.
01:17:00Lita is feeling a little more triumphant when Mahri takes a tumbled flip over her shoulder and she ducks, letting the woman find her own landing somewhere behind her as she struggles to her feet, tugging herself free of vines. The only saving grace is that whatever numbing agent might have been in those thorns make it a little difficult to feel much of the pain she's pretty sure she should be feeling. As such the dragon's blood which has splashed over open wounds caused by those thorns and vines has receded into a dull ache, though she's certain she'll feel that later. Crimson footsteps are left in the wake of bare feet as she pays little care to stepping across shattered glass and vines to retrieve her blade, lifting a hand against the mirror her dagger had crashed into, steadying herself as she bends to pick it up. Her senses dulled, she's slow to catch the lycan's mad dash towards her, angling to face her again. But the shard of mirror in Mahri's hand skips across her hip, up towards her ribs and takes the breath from her as they both go crashing through that mirror, Mahri on top of her as she slides across the ground across a mess of glass shards and silver debris. Mahri might have been the only thing saving her from the bulk of that dragon's blood. Her own dagger lay flush against Mahri's side, her fingers clutched around its hilt but there hadn't been enough time to try and aim it for anything important.
After Duel/Wrap-up
Quintessa said, "Wow everybody- Wasn’t this a lovely duel? The judges still need a little time to decide, so while we wait, why don’t we give our duelists a round of applause?"
Xiembantointh gets his section going on a booming cheer for Lita.
Leoxander might have subtly cast an insulting gesture over his shoulder in Quintessa's direction from the finger on his left hand bearing a crow skull ring.
Quintessa said, "We have our winner… Shall I tell you?"
Meri said, "NO."
Quintessa said, "Too bad."
Quintessa said, "In our most potentially fatal match yet both duelists had to fight hard, but only one can succeed. Lita! Congratulations- it is time for you to end this. Mahri, you have my deepest condolences. I’ll apologize for the silver later."
Leoxander rose up from his seat at that point, absently making certain Loravelle's hood was up and covering her head. Inked arms folded over his chest as he stood there in his Sunday best; sweatpants clearly not tailored to fit him and shoes that were uncomfortably small.
Xiembantointh is thrilled that Lita won, but it doesn’t lessen his concern for her current physical state! Everyone cheers for the winner and he rushes to the magical barrier in wait for it to be lowered.
Quintessa gave 5000 gold to Lita.
Eleanor did not applaud as many around her did, but in lieu of that, she palmed a handrolled cigarette, snapping her thumb and forefinger together to spark up a small blueish flame, and after lighting the end, took a deep drag as her pale eyes sliced toward the wounded combatants. It was next to impossible to tell whether she was pleased or upset over the duel's results, but she remained loitering along the sidelines to watch the finale blows.
Quintessa gave 5000 gold to Mahri.
Loravelle is a little delayed in her reply to Leo with another round of coughs and sneezes interrupting her speech, so she merely nods in agreement about his plans. The announcement of the winner has her whistling and clapping. She just might try standing up alongside the rogue, but figures if she tried he might motion for her to sit right back down to rest, so she remains seated. Hopefully he goes to them once the fight is ended entirely. She waves one of her hands out in a shooing gesture in case there's some indecision about leaving her up in the bleachers. She's wrapped in her multilayered clothing burrito and not going anywhere, presumably safe. As safe as a sickly human in Vailkrin could be, anyway. She has thin blood. It isn't worth the effort to take a bite out of her.
Lita rolls Mahri off of her, following though to straddle the woman's hips. "Listen!" She doesn't really have anything important to say, just wanting to get the woman's attention over the roaring of the crowd in the stands. Mahri is still a friend, after everything. Still family. She's no intention of bringing her too much harm, but she's not against a little. With a groan and a sickeningly sick sound, she tugs the shard of mirror from betwixt her ribs that Mahri had lodged there, the dark stain spreading across the fabric of her dress almost scarcely visible. Using the silvered edge of the mirror shard, she points it towards the she-wolf's shoulder and carves a small, childlike depiction of a smiley face. Two eyes and a curved mouth. It seemed fitting that this should end with a tattoo. She tosses the shard then, rolling sideways next to the woman onto her back with a groan, even smiling. "Next time I kick y'er arse, no magic, yeah? Maybe no mirrors. Screw it, next time I want to kick y'er arse, I'll punch Leo." A half-hearted joke, except that laughing hurts too. "We still family, Mah?"
Leoxander gave 15000 gold to Lita.
Mahri 's eyes snap to Lita, attention had doll face. While Lita is drawing her little bit of art on the her shoulder, the silver penetrates and is sure to leave that a scar her body can't heal. Between her numb face, the shoulder, kidney and now that little piece of work, Mahri can't do much more than hiss through clenched teeth until the vampire drops next to her. Eyes closed, Mahri manages to croak out, "Always."
Leoxander did in fact check to see that Lora’ would be alright and remain seated, all of this seemingly conveyed with just that look. His arms fell as his ears caught the conversation happening in the center of the ring, a hand bracing on the edge of the wall to drop down the distance into the arena to come alongside Xiem in the waiting for the barrier to dissipate.
01:46:39Xiembantointh grins down at Leo next to him, “let’s go get our girls.” He flops his shirt over his shoulder, a bold green L still displayed on his torso and once those barriers are lifted he plants his hands down on the partition separating the spectators and the arena before vaulting himself over. Booted feet land and crunch some broken mirrors as he is sprinting toward Lita and Mahri. He uses his shirt to start wiping any blood from Lita before helping her up, but he doesn’t want her walking around because he doesn’t want more glass and blood lodging into her feet. He holds a hand down to Mahri in order to help her up on her feet if she will accept it, “you two did amazing.” Then he cradles Lita in his arms gently because of the cut to her rib and starts heading toward the healers tent. Surely they at least have some blood she can take to speed up her healing.
Mahri 'll just shake her head at Xiembantointh's offered hand, but there might be a little bit of envy regarding the care he shows Lita before those lids close
Lita would have normally argued against being picked up and carried, but between whatever toxin was on Mahri's vines and the dragon's blood from the mirrors, everything is either numb or hurts just now. She presses a palm against the gash at her ribs, feeling like this does anything to stem the bleeding but she's not a healer. Xiem is warm and even if a bit reluctantly at first, she relaxes against him, trying to piece together why he's got green paint smeared across his chest. She flickers a glance at Leo, if only to double check he's helping Mahri up as well. She still owes Leo and Lora both all the apologies but the adrenaline from the duel is waning.
Leoxander looked back toward Lora once more before Xiem spoke, not too keen on leaving her alone even within range, be it the fact that it was Vailkrin or a few caught scents of people who had killed for a living. Or unliving, pending the person. Still, he couldn’t leave Mahri laying there bloody on the ground, giving a wary glance toward some of the mirrors left standing or sprinkling shards that crackled under his feet, making certain to avoid touching any of the jagged pieces. “You two look like hell…” Was his own form of compliment to follow the dragon’s praise as he assisted in trying to get Mahri up off the ground. When she shook her head to refuse Xiembantointh, Leo would just resort to scooping her up in his arms so she wouldn't have to worry about stay on her feet or walk. Doing so, he got the slightest, harmless nick on his forearm from a piece of broken, silver glass that caused a slight flinch for the burn. He couldn't even fathom how his fellow alpha was feeling, covered in cuts.
Mahri cussed a storm up, being swooped off the ground like that. Sure has hecks didn’t feel so good but it opened her eyes even if just to glare up at Leo. Figuring he wouldn’t put her down anyway she’ll just lazily loop her arms around the wolf’s neck. “Feels like it, mind my kidney, yeah?” Mahri peered over Leo’s shoulder for Lora. When she finds Mouse up in the stands, she’s immediately concerned because the woman looks like she’s ready for a blizzard rather than a tournament match. And then she notices Leo isn’t exactly in his normal attire either. “Th’ ‘ell happened, Cap’n?”
Lita can't help a little laughter at Mahri's rhyming question. Maybe that was the pain though.
Loravelle can't hide her concern for both women, so much so that she tries hollering at both Leo and Xiem. “Y-you two better take care of them or els-” Bad idea. With her scratchy throat, she breaks into another coughing fit, and balls her hand into a small fist to pat at her chest. More of that elderberry syrup sounded like a good idea now, so she searches her pockets for it to take another drink.
Xiembantointh looks to Leo carrying Mahri and witnesses him flinch. Maybe he got pricked or maybe he is sensitive to silver as well, but he doesn’t like to assume. “Wait a sec,” he can see a shard sticking between them, dangerously close to lodging in one of them. He maneuvers Lita a little so he can reach a hand over to gingerly pluck the shard from between them, “there.” Then he tosses the piece aside while mumbling, “those people are sick,” under his breath as they enter the healer’s tent. “I’ll make sure they are looked after. You don’t want to leave Lora out there by herself. Tell her I hope she feels better,” his friendly grin is offered as the two women are taken into care.
Leoxander jostled the poor she-wolf just a bit to make her wince, not overdoing it with the painful humor, of course. “You’ll be a’right.” He looked Lita’s way, the glare he had for her the night before evaporated from once again blue eyes. But seeing as she was in good care with the builder, he turned to carry Mahri out of the fighting rink. Following the silver eyed look, his gazed up toward the layer plumped Loravelle in the stands. “Long story. You’ll have plenty o’time to listen when we get you settled somewhere to rest.” Where might be the difficult part. No point in heading back across the waters to the island when he had to be present the next day for the half-orc, even if he and Lita weren’t the rogues most favorite people right now. Now he had two sick women to tend to and couldn’t help but wonder when that coin had been flipped. Called out to Loravelle, "Le's get out'a here." He couldn't quite piggy back her and keep Mahri in his arms without looking like some side-show, so the rosey nosed bard would have to waddle through those layers and keep up.
Leoxander could only give Xiem a glance back, not intending to take Mahri to any healer's tent. If the dragon thought that the lycan or the vampire were less stubborn than the rogue and would stay put for long, he had a sore lesson to learn about his new interest. "Good luck, mate. Nice fight, Ace." Returned at a volume just loud enough for both to catch.
02:19:32Lita is not a fan of seeing healers. Though that has more to do with a fear and dislike of magic in general. But keeping quiet for a bit seems like a better idea than facing up to the events in Frostmaw right now, especially after hearing Xiem saying he hopes Lora feels better. So she had gotten sick then. But at least she wasn't dead. Lita will be grateful for that, but still.
Lita said to Leoxander, "I owe you, a couple probably."
Eleanor 's cigarette crackled faintly on another intake before being pinched between the rogue's fingers, and she masked a snort through a rugged exhale of smoke. Her gaze tumbled freely abound before she settled it on the avian still rustling its bright blue feathers near her ear. When at last she spoke, it was to the bird, her husky timbre heavy with her thiny-veiled annoyance. "Alrecht, alrecht," the spellrogue dropped what remained of the cigarette to the ground, smashing it under the toe of her tall lace-up boots. "We're headin' back noo," she continued to Eun. "Ah ken how much ye miss 'er." Eleanor exhaled again, lingering wisps of smoke momentarily trapped alongside her flushed cheeks, and she stepped away from the crowd, both hands lifting to pull a cowl over her flaxen braid and low across her brow. Eun croaked at her once, twice, then swept away from her shoulder to fly ahead of their path home.
Xiembantointh looks like he contemplating something after her whisper before he changes course and walks in the direction that will bring them to Rynvale the fastest.
Loravelle didn't have to be told twice to head out. She might be overdressed and sick, but she absolutely can waddle out after Leo and Mahri. ...Not until she tries shouting goodbye and congrats to Lita, though. More sneezing and coughing ensues, so she tries an enthusiastic wave instead, followed by two thumbs up. Now she'll waddle after the pair of alphas, sniffling and coughing along the way to wherever they're headed.
Mahri 's just going to close her eyes and offer an occasional grunt on the way
Leoxander thought he heard… didn’t matter. All the more reason to get out of that cursed city. He kept his pace slow enough that Lora’ could catch up and checked on her periodically with a sidelong glance as he lead the way down the road and onto greener pastures.