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Old 06-29-2011, 02:47 AM
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Default Re: [WAR X] WAR X RP - The Circle of Life and Death [RP]


Caoimhe (KEEV-ah) Alistriona
Elemental
Outskirts of Parasanti
Affected RPers: None

The rustling of leaves was the only sound that filled the air. Even Caoimhe’s soft breathing came out softly, without a stir. Every muscle in her body was locked into place as she waited patiently from her perch on her branch. All around her, the forest seemed empty, devoid of any life save for the slow pulse of the trees themselves. She knew better, however. The silence only belied the forest’s true tale. All around her, they waited. They watched and waited, just like her.

A bird call sharply rang through the air, earning Caoimhe’s immediate attention. She lifted her head slowly, narrowing her eyes in the “bird’s” direction. It was the first warning—someone was in the woods. Silently, Caoimhe moved her hand to her side, letting it rest on her animal companion. The blue fox crouched frozen in place, every muscle tensed and ready to strike as her liquid eyes glared like a hawk’s. Coldness seeped from her fur into Caoimhe’s hand, giving her reassurance rather than discomfort.

Minutes that felt like hours gradually passed until they first spotted the intruders. A group of them were quietly passing through the pillars of tree trunks, riding quadruped creatures with obvious unease. The emblems on their uniforms gave away their identity, and their unease was immediately understood. Knights of the Red Circle…

As they drew closer, Caoimhe took careful observations. They numbered five—without including their steeds, so it must be a scouting party. Probably sent from Parasanti again, Caoimhe mused. Three of the men rode thickly armored Rhyhorn, while the other two rode swift-looking Rapidash. The rock-types would be easy to deal with, but the Rapidash might prove troublesome. Yet though her team remained hidden, she knew that they outnumbered them. And so, just before the scouts got to her tree, she stretched out her hand…

The horses paused, snorting as they sensed the flow of magic. The men murmured to one another, instantly growing grim. They glanced to and fro, scanning the forest but never guessing that their nemesis watched them from above. Until it was too late.

Caoimhe pulled her hand back, and roots suddenly erupted from the ground, flailing like snakes. The Rapidash reared, and the Knights yelled, but soon they found any resistance futile. The roots coiled around the Rhyhorn, pinning them to the ground and trapping their riders with them. The Rapidash started galloping away, but their escape was denied as the ground beneath their diamond-hard hooves swirled into a sand trap.

The forest that had seemed so empty before suddenly burst into life as hiding soldiers slid from their hiding places—jumping from trees or leaping out from secret tunnels under the ground. Pulling out weapons of wood and stone, they jumped at the Knights—and before long, the skirmish ended. The Red Circle agents were either knocked out, or disarmed.

“Ha!” One of Caoimhe’s companions boisterously jeered at their enemy. “Thought you could sneak up on us, didn’t you?”

“Quiet, Caelan.”

The group of renegades sobered as Caoimhe and her Glaceon jumped from their tree.

“There may be more of them,” she chastised the excited soldier, who glanced away with a frown. Her hazel eyes quickly swept over the Knights, from the Rapidash stuck in a Sand Tomb, to the Rhyhorns snorting under the knobby roots. Two riders had been harmed, from the looks of things, but the others seemed fine. One particular Knight, arms tied behind his back and guarded by two renegades, seemed frightfully healthy as he listed off a stream of curses.

“Vile mages, devil’s scum,” he spat, even as the renegades tried to restrain him. “You lot will be the end of all of us! Your corruption will taint this earth, sowing death and disease.”

Grace the Glaceon growled, her fur freezing into spikes, but Caoimhe coolly stared back, taking his rage without batting an eye. When he was through, she turned to her crew and spoke, “Bring the wounded ones, and let the Pokemon free. Find Dymphna and have her wipe their memory.”

The vociferous Knight’s face suddenly turned into horror. “No! No! Don’t you dare—”

His words were sharply cut off as the renegade closest to him clonked him over the head. As they carried him off, other renegades gradually emerged from the shadows—all the youth or elderly who could not fight. They murmured amongst each other, looking anxious. Caoimhe grimaced at seeing them, knowing well what they were worried about. She didn’t need the confirmation she gained when one—a five year old girl—wandered up to her side with wide eyes.

“Keeffah?” she asked innocently through missing teeth. “Are we gonna haf to moof again?”

Caoimhe gave the girl a sad smile, but sensed that all eyes were on her again.

“I’m afraid so,” she answered, loud enough for all to hear. “We’ve been discovered again.”

“But Caoimhe,” Caelan, sandy-haired and seventeen years of age, stepped forward again. “What’s the point? If we wipe their memories, then they won’t be able to tell them where we are.”

Caoimhe shook her head, “No. I don’t want to risk it. The Red Circle probably keeps tabs on where they send their scouts. Should a patrol return without memory of what had happened… then they could pinpoint our location. We need to keep moving around, or we’ll make it easier for them to find us.”

The two wounded Knights were finally brought forward, and were laid before her feet. She knelt over them, abruptly ending her argument with Caelan. Placing her hands on their chests, she felt for her gift once more—her inner Life magic. The grass growing beneath their bodies responded as well, and curled their blades around their arms and legs. Breathing deeply in, and slowly exhaling, Caoimhe let her magic flow again, and healed the Knight’s wounds.

“All right, all right,” a shrill voice broke Caoimhe out of her concentration. “Show me my next victims already, so we can get packing.”

Caoimhe sighed, taking her time to straighten back up. Reluctantly, she was brought face to face with a wild-haired hag—Dymphna. Beneath her flaming locks, the witch’s bright eyes looked mischievously back at Caoimhe.

“Sorry to bother you again, Dymphna,” Caoimhe stared right back. She was one of the only members of the crew who dared to meet Dymphna’s eyes. “It must be the fourth time this month.”

Dymphna cackled, “Heh, I don’t mind at all, princess. It gives me something to do.”

With another laugh, Dymphna started her job—and Caoimhe turned to take control.

“Pack up,” she ordered. “It’s time we moved on. Caelan, take some others and scout ahead. Find another suitable campsite.”

He nodded back, but what he must have been thinking, he kept thoroughly masked.
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