1
1
1. It's mostly because I'm pinning for a pursuit/escape scene in maintenance tunnel, I won't lie. Those are always fun.
1
Going to the surface just now is...
Originally Posted by Faux, July 20th 2019
True Rider
Location: London Underground
Time: 12:45
I.D: Dolores Morella
Condition: Tired
Magic Circuits: Unlocked!
Magus Profile!
Inventory!
Day 0 - Tower 2
Taking a sharp turn to the side, Dolores’ lungs felt as if they were about to burst. Her breaths came out in a hurried puff, long beads of sweat running down her forehead and dripping over her eyes as she struggled to stay ahead of the tunnel’s collapse. Loose gravel and dust rained over her, clinging to her hair and her clothes.
She couldn’t keep this pace up, now with her body battered like this. She had to take an out.
Crossing the bounded field was a no go. One of the first rules of combat between magi was to never give the enemy an advantage. Tripping whatever alarms and countermeasures they had from the start would do nothing but get her killed faster.
The entrance to the maintenance tunnel was closer, but perhaps just as dangerous. It would keep her underground, away from whatever was causing this hellish shaking. But that would mean running the risk of getting followed by the collapsing walls around her.
It would keep her on track, however.
Leaving the tunnels through the ventilation shaft was the safest option, but also the one with the least amount to be gained from. Leaving meant getting away empty handed with no information or confirmation of what she’d seen. To give up and just leave at the first sign of danger.
A coward’s way out.
There was no way she had come this far, only to leave with nothing to show for it!
Her mind made up, Dolores rushed towards a small set of metal bars leading up to a passage pointing upwards. The ladder looked well used yet sturdy, as if it had been changed but a few years ago.
The young magus jumped on it, legs hurriedly carrying her off the tunnel and up the passage.
Hands slapped against cold metal, something thrumming in the bars, whether magic or mere vibration she didn’t have the time to find out, and the cement dust ensured she had a strong grip.
“I’ll scout ahead!”
Suibhne leapt up her shoulder, launching halfway up the ladder, and then disappeared through the manhole at the top; the heavy metal cover popping off and being sent flying at the spirit’s passage. Thankfully, the awful racket would be quite easily covered up by the collapsing walls around her and Dolores was halfway up the ladder before she encountered a problem.
A loud clang announced one of the bars giving out, concrete splintering as the metal rod tore free. Cracking her forehead against the next rung, the young woman still managed to hold on. And, ignoring the sudden, agonizing pounding in her skull, she scrambled up the remaining distance with only a few scrapes and scratches to show.
Once up a level, she found herself in a metal hallway, the dully grey walls perfectly, totally still as they stretched to both sides as far as Dolores could see before splitting into opposite paths. All of a sudden, her headache got a lot worse. Pressure built in her ears, the pain building to a crescendo before, just as suddenly, it passed. Something warm trickled out of the side of her ears, but Dolores didn’t care to confirm what it was.
“What-” She gasped. “Was that.”
When Suibhne didn’t respond, the magus clambered to her feet and looked around.
Something was wrong. Her familiar wasn’t there.
Their bond felt… muted somehow. Dolores still felt the connection between herself and the cait sidhe, but something was preventing Suibhne from materializing as she had since they’d sealed their pact.
Could it be that she’d tripped some sort of secondary alarm?
This wasn’t an offensive bounded field, more like a defensive barrier actually, the kind of thing… to keep wandering spirits out. She was in a Clocktower tunnel! Probably one of the secondary entrances maintained for special projects. And that means whatever she felt in those rungs was probably scanning her.
Her stomach curled at the thought.
Checking her Entomopathy implant, Dolores let out a sigh of relief as the hundreds of small signals pinged back at her command to approach. The Mymaridae Bellum were living beings connected to her through a psychic link, hence the bounded field didn’t register them as familiars. Rather, the alarm was basic, likely due to how far away they were from the Mage’s Association. Its creators probably only ever expected it to kill mundanes and the truly foolish.
‘That was a close one though. There was no way I could have known whether Policies had revoked my affiliation. I wouldn’t be alive if Bellefronte or Rosenberg had made their small transaction public.’
Their paranoia had been her saving grace.
Dolores sighed in relief, finally calming down.
From the passage, a large mass of skittering bodies surged forward. Their small forms pooling together around her feet as she took stock of how many had been lost as they tried to flee the tunnels. Of the two thousand and five hundred she’d… appropriated from her family’s Workshop, over a fifth hadn’t managed to survive the collapse of the passage.
Fortunately, there’d been more than enough of them left for her to make use of. And that was also plenty to breed and replenish their numbers. So long as she could do that, Dolores knew she’d never be without a weapon.
Pinging the swarm, the exhausted, battered magus found a rather terribly uncomfortable spot on the floor and closed her eyes. Pushing through the pounding headache, she dove into the swarm and began to split the mass of chittering critters various into individual troops. Knowing she needed to be quick about her scouting, and that it was likely that there’d be more traps as she got closer, she sent the hive out in staggered, irregular waves in all feasible directions.
For some ungodly reason she hadn’t tripped any traps in the last five minutes of probing around and that had her worried. This tunnel surely should have had something else!
And of course, that’s right when everything went wrong. Having split the waves up to explore the branching side tunnels, she’d identified dozens upon dozens of store rooms, warehouses, maintenance closets, and even more, ever sprawling tunnels. None of which had been particularly heavily protected. Honestly, the whole area seemed like it had just been forgotten about a long, long time ago.
But, obviously, such a place would make an excellent meeting spot for people looking to do bad things.
The swarm spread further, small bugs pushing themselves through the openings and cracks, expanding through every nook and cranny of the underground complex. They’d formed a long reaching web of feedback linking back to the young teen.
And that was when they’d come upon something interesting.
Dangerous too.
Her small minions pushed themselves through the cracks in a wall, and immediately came to a stop. There, inside the room, she could sense something someone. People. She adjusted her connection, allowing for more of their feedback to reach her. And instantly regretted it. There were four of them, at least four sources of energy inside the room. The power wafting off of two of them, however, meant they were very, very clearly Heroic Spirits. Taking in the data from the insects at that point had become painful and all she could make out was that there was, in fact, two distinct sources of such raw, twisting energy that the very air around them rippled and distorted.
One was massive, so unimaginably huge that she couldn’t breathe.
Like being strangled, like being smothered, like having her lungs crushed; Dolores couldn’t take in enough oxygen when she stared at him. It wasn’t even an attempted defense, no, his raw power was just so crushing, his aura so dominating that it nearly killed her.
By far the other was worse. Looking at it, because, despite its small stature, the image of a massive, crouching, slavering Beast filled the back of her mind, was like stepping into a fire. Heat was licking at her skin, driving spikes of agony into her flesh and her mind. Looking upon the true nature of this Servant was like staring at an ancient, unspeakable demon of fire.
Her last act was to pull her scouts back, her vision swimming and darkening for a moment. Blinking, Dolores stood, realizing that what she saw was likely a successful infiltration of the Clock Tower.
That alone was enough to tell her that she should run far, far, far away.
But… if they’d gotten inside, and if they had servants, then that was probably how the Tower ended up gutted.
“Most of those idiots have it coming." She assured herself. She'd lose no sleep over their deaths. But Teacher, was different. He was probably trying to help put a stop to this madness, or failing that, minimize the casualties. And of course, where Teacher was, her fellow understudy Thomas Rosenberg wouldn't be far behind, even if his dad tried to stop him...or have her kidnapped. It was a complicated situation.
"And then there is Matthew...” Dolores sighed in frustration, just thinking about the man was enough worsen her migraine. “And of course, Suibhne is still missing. What should I do?”
Choice Time!
Congratulations! You have reached your first Save Point. From this moment forth, should you reach a bad end, you may choose to come back to this chapter and resume the story.
Warning! - You have unknowingly tripped a Bounded Field and temporarily lost your connection to Suibhne the Bronze.
3.
1.
3
3
The Act of dozing off in the afternoon is a luxury indeed.
Coffee would be nice, though.
[Collection of my Servant Sheets]
Now Revamped!
1
3. What's the point of being a magus if you're not ready to die to learn secrets that could kill you anyways ?
Location: Clock Tower Tunnels
Time: 13:40
I.D: Dolores Morella
Condition: Tired
Magic Circuits: Unlocked
Magus Profile!
Inventory!
Day 0 - The Tower 3
Panic, white hot and acidic roiled in her throat. Vomiting helped her break the connection, not that she had much to begin with. She’d been taken from her home before breakfast, after all. The physical heaving helped her untangle herself from the hive mind. Dolores quickly pulled her swarm back, knowing she’d need all of them. The young magus whimpered, the empty cold feeling of her connection with her familiar doing little to reassure her.
“Suibhne, where are you, where are you, where are you?”
She spat up again.
“Fuck.” Swearing made her feel better. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket, she scrubbed first at her eyes then her mouth. The mystic code tinkled and self cleaned, any trace of vomitus being reduced to ash. A drink of water and a swish and a spit had the taste of stomach acid dulled. Somehow the foul taste helped her stay calm.
“Ok Dolores. This it. Your surrogate father, your best friend, and your (not)crush are about to get flash fried by a heroic spirit. He’s down there plotting, if that vision was to be trusted, and that means there’s a second spirit down there too. Plus their masters. And if they’re meeting in Association controlled tunnels that means there’s a traitor.”
Traitors were bad. Really, really bad. With a servant and any level of access means they could steal Root knows how many super weapons and special projects. And… that means… you have to go figure out who it is!
The Morello heiress gagged again, stress pushing up through her stomach as she felt that thing’s pressure again. She didn’t throw up. That made her feel a bit more confident. A few more deep breaths and she was even smiling as she traipsed towards her certain death. Because, right now, she couldn’t leave without finding her familiar, without figuring out how to save her friends, and actually getting something for her trouble.
“So… let’s see if I can do this.”
Pushing ahead, the young woman did everything she could to ignore her pounding head and the fear roiling and pounding in her stomach. Ultimately, she had to thank these ungodly powerful idiots. Or at least the lightning one. Now that she was sensitive to it, she could actually feel his raw aura.
The smell of ozone and fresh rain wafted through the hallways. Despite being deep underground, the air actually felt fresher, which was perhaps the one upside to this suicide mission she was about to embark into.
Without a doubt, Servants were an alien existence. Something so powerful simply couldn’t be considered human any longer. And of course the world would attempt to reject beings of such mysterious nature who weren’t affiliated to it.
This made the area feel warped, a clear feeling of wrongness permeating the very air.
But in this one instance, it did make it far, far easier to navigate. She could even gather all of her swarm to herself and not worry about getting lost!
Ten minutes of jogging through the twisting, labyrinthian corridors later and she had gotten close enough to the meeting to feel whatever the other Servant, the one with the fire and demon inside of it, was putting out.
“It’s almost… like a bounded field. But it’s not….”
Whatever it was, Dolores did not like it. For a shaman like her, the feeling would be akin to waddling through darkness, without being able to see or hear anything. She couldn’t even feel the spirits beneath the earth. Of course, that didn’t change the fact she had to push through. In order to make sure she was being as stealthy as possible, she shut off all of her mystic codes and even had the insects cling to her and hibernate. The only thing still open was her connection to Suibhne, tentatively growing slightly stronger as she moved forward.
She still couldn’t contact the cait sidhe, however. And that unnerved her.
The oppressive feeling grew heavier as Dolores approached the room, her legs trembling ever so slightly, back hunched as if someone had suddenly strapped weights to her body.
This couldn’t be normal
Even when she’d watched that monster fight this morning she didn’t feel as affected.
Just what in the Root’s name was that other Servant?
She took deep breaths as the door came into view. Leaden feet dragging themselves over the floor as she struggled to suppress the instinct to bolt the other way and not look back.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
She held her breath, and pressed her ear against the door.
“...that wasn’t part of the plan.” A muffled voice with a synthetic metallic tone to it rasped out.
“We wouldn’t even need this plan if you had done your part of the deal.” A second voice, that of a young adult and male, bit off impatiently. “Had things gone according to plan then…”
“No plan survives contact with the enemy. It is why I requested you be present.”
Dolores could make out a faint rythmic thumping, perhaps that of a leg bumping on the ground. That meant impatience. Impatience amongst magi was a sign of youth or of idiocy, yet she very much doubted the second person had requested the first be present if they were of the latter category.
She pressed her ear closer.
“Well then, what comes next? Someone of your… reputation wouldn’t just call me down here to whine that the first plan failed after you’ve admitted it was bound to fail anyway.”
There was a small sigh.
“Your distraction proved more effective than expected. The Clocktower is currently searching the city for traces of Berserker’s magical energy and it shouldn’t be long before they trail it to this area. This narrows down our window of opportunity.”
The rhythm of the thumping sped up, and Dolores could make out a faint scoff.
“And you think that’s my fault?”
“Berserker was meant to draw attention only, not goad the Vice-Director into a confrontation. Her involvement was an unnecessary difficulty.”
There was some shuffling.
“...He is… difficult to control.”
“Hence why I am having you recover here while the troops take position.”
Troops?
Position?
What the hell was going on?
“That’s meaningless if you can’t access the Clock Tower. The array won’t be completed unless you root it at the center of London’s main leyline.”
London’s main leyline? They couldn’t be referring to the one beneath the Mage’s Association. That was crazy!
The largest leyline in the entirety of England was constantly monitored by the various departments and factions of the Clock Tower. A large reservoir of prana capable of sustaining the biggest group of mages as well as their experiments for centuries on end with little to no maintenance. Zealously guarded and maintained by the upper echelon of the Mage’s Association for that very reason.
Her heart hammered away at her chest, roaring like the beats of a drum in her ears.
“Master, if I may offer counsel on this matter.”
A third voice, this time that of a woman, broke through the silence. She had a heavy accent, and there was a slow tentativeness as she spoke. As if she wasn’t certain of the meaning of the words but not the language itself. Her voice was that of a slow drawl, husky in a sense.
Her master, who Dolores assumed was the man with the strange voice, allowed it.
“If our priority is to access the leyline underneath this tower, then I may be capable of providing you with access.”
The other master, Berserker’s, beat his fist against what she assumed was a table.
There was a brief shaking, and clinking of glass.
“And you didn’t think to tell us this before?”
“I believed my Master’s plan to have a better chance of success. Unfortunately, we were wrong to trust the help.” The woman sniffed disdainfully.
A chair scraped against the floor.
“How dare…!”
“SILENCE”A deep voice rumbled, shaking the room like the roar of thunder. Dolores felt waves of raw power rippling through her, prickling her skin with a familiar sensation. One she hoped never to feel again.
There was electricity in the word. So much so that only the man’s voice had caused the hairs on her arms to stand.
Dolores took a deep steadying breath.
The man had just whispered.
Half a minute passed as the others inside remained silent, careful not to disturb the monster inside. The force pressing down on her seemed to lighten ever so slightly, a sign that he had finally calmed down enough for the conversation to resume.
“Caster” The man with the metallic voice started. “How long would it take for you to establish the connection?”
The woman hummed in thought.
“One hours, two at the most.”
“The Enforcers will be here in half that time.” The other master, cowed by Berserker’s warning, grunted.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have let Berserker get into a fist fight with Barthomelloi of all people.” Caster’s master snapped back.
“I didn’t know Berserker was going to…!”
That was when everything went wrong.
In the back of Dolores’s mind, something caught. It was infinitesimal, miniscule, the kind of thing that she wouldn’t even notice except for the rawness of her new bond with Suibhne. But she did notice and she did clamp down onto it. In doing so, many things happened.
Immediately, a fog clouding her mind dispersed, the sounds of breaking glass filling her ears and the magus realized something very important.
“Master, it seems we have a little… eavesdropper.”
She’d been caught, a spider in a web, by a far more dangerous witch.
Yowling, screaming, and clawing Suibhne leapt from the woman’s cloak. Sinking her teeth into the witch’s neck she tore and a spray of blood came loose. And even with a servant’s speed it was impossible to react as fast as the lightning quick slash that tore into the witch’s neck. Unfortunately, not even the spirit was quick enough to dodge the bolt of lightning that punched a hole straight through the cait sidhe’s body.
While the group roared or screamed in anger or pain Dolores acted. Reaching out she grabbed ahold of the remains of her familiar, metaphysically pulling the charred, smoking, whipsy ruins of her friend to her and dumped enough mana into it she almost blacked out. Thankfully, pure, undiluted adrenaline kept her awake and let her start running.
“Child, flee.”
Even though she didn’t need the prompt, the weakness of the statement was enough to worry her deeply. Though, at the very least, their bond had returned to full strength.
So, holding her friend to her chest, the young magus now how to decide how and where to run.
“CatCH hEr!”
Because the command that came from behind her, what sounded like a demon roaring in pain, a woman screaming in childbirth, and a child burning to death, terrified her in ways she couldn’t articulate.
“BINd heR!”
Unquestionably wrong, the voice lingered in the back of her mind and attacked a deep, primal part of her very soul.
“SacRIficE Her.”
Yes. Dolores Morello was running.
But where?
Choice Time!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the Fourth Option (Mystic Code), through it, readers may select any of the three options and a mystic code currently in Dolores' possession. Detail how to use said mystic code in order to enhance the option you selected for added chance of success!
Warning! Dolores attempt to save Suibhne has drained her magical energy reserves by half. Current total: 240
4 - Ring of Concealment 2 - Double back to the tunnels.
Hoping the ring will help us avoid/lose them while we run back in the direction of the tunnels? (Where help/a bigger threat to them will hopefully not be too far away based on what we heard.)
Last edited by Cain12; March 28th, 2020 at 11:28 AM.
Yeah, Cain12's plan seems solid.
4 - Ring of Concealment 2 - Double back to the tunnels.
I see no faults in this
4 - Ring of Concealment 2 - Double back to the tunnels.
4 - Ring of Concealment 2 - Double back to the tunnels.
The Act of dozing off in the afternoon is a luxury indeed.
Coffee would be nice, though.
[Collection of my Servant Sheets]
Now Revamped!
4 - Ring of Concealment 2 - Double back to the tunnels.
True Rider
Sounds like an interesting idea.
4 - Ring of Concealment 2- Double back to the tunnels.
Location: Clock Tower Tunnels
Time: 13:42
I.D: Dolores Morella
Condition: Tired
Magic Circuits: Unlocked
Magus Profile!
Inventory!
Day 0 - The Tower 4
Dolores’ chest burned painfully, hurried breaths straining her lungs as she dashed down the hallway, fleeing from the wildly screaming spirit. The witch’s wild, undulating, frenzied screams of anger reverberated through the underground as she cast out her magical energy, suffused the very air with her essence and making it heavy and strained.
Clutching her familiar’s spiritual core like a life line, there was nothing the young magus could do other than run away fast as her legs could carry her.
There was no time to look back, nor was there time to regret her choices leading up to now.
All she could do was run.
Run and hope that the masters and their Servants would be more concerned with leaving now that they’d been found out than dealing with someone who might or might not be in contact with others. Dolores had to bet on them being paranoid enough to think she was a spy and not an unlucky eavesdropper.
Suibhne was… in a bad way.
Not that the cait sidhe was under any threat of death, not while Dolores fed her disembodied form with enough of her magic energy to keep it from straining and coming apart. Perhaps one of the biggest advantages shamanism practitioners had over most forms of familiar bonding.
It was also the only thing that kept the Bronze sidhe from being destroyed by the raw blast of energy that the giant had unleashed upon her.
‘Speaking of which…’ She turned around a corner and nearly froze.
The first thing she recognized was that the man had been hung to death. She knew this because his eyes had popped out and hung, attached only by the optic nerve, as they twitched and swung wildly. Dolores was also relatively confident that this undead, because that’s obviously what the moving corpse was, was clearly a malevolent spirit under the control of that witch. The oddest thing, by far, though was neither the thick, ugly purple and yellow bruises around the broken, twisted neck of the thing, but the clothes the monster wore.
Oh yes, even with it’s had at a 90 degree angle, spine seemingly pulled up a few notches and snapped in three places, it was the fringed linen skirt that seemed most conspicuous. And never mind the green tint and bloating and the rank, fetid smell that slammed into her.
When the abomination’s detached eyes spun and twisted on the nerves, catching sight of her, it made a gasping, low rasp, clearly trying to call out. Fortunately for her, it’s destroyed throat was incapable of producing much noise. Unfortunately, it’s gnarled, filthy hands, ended with jagged, splintered, yellow nails were still quite capable of killing her.
Dolores didn’t give the creature enough time to attack her.
Instead, she sent her swarm out, covering the corpse’s face and tearing through it’s optic nerves. As the two orbs popped like grapes and her insects burrowed into the undead’s brain, trying to do enough damage to put it down, Dolores kept moving.
One foot after the other, never looking back.
Once her detached insects registered a lack of magical energy in the abomination she recalled her flying horde, just in time to dodge under another zombie’s outstretched claws. And then another and another and another, some dressed like the first but others in far more modern garb. But none of this was what scared her, a Magus walks with Death after all. No, it was the small child that terrified her.
In life, it had been five or six. Young, small, tiny.
In death, its charred skin gave way to blackened bone, skull showing through where flesh and fat and muscle had been burned through. Its clothes, such as they were, were gone, a few metal trinkets fused to its sexless flesh; any such identity long burned away. The roiling, cloying, choking smell of burning, cooking, fat popping meat overpowered even the sickly sweet rot she could smell.
And unlike the zombies, this was no mere animated corpse.
The child’s jaw, only a few tattered scraps of flesh keeping the bone attached, dropped open and embers gathered in its mouth. With a screech of hot air, a small fireball fired out at her. Having had enough, Dolores slid the stolen ring of concealment onto her finger, dropped behind a few crates, and activated it.
Just in time for the child-monster to launch itself into the crates, flames slamming into the wall behind her..
Smashing through them, she was sent flying and peppered with shrapnel and debris. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, Dolores ignored the warmth trickling down her face and stayed perfectly, utterly, totally silent.
After shuffling around the room, whining and scratching and shaking, the child gave another scream of pure, undiluted agony, turned into a cloud of grey-black smoke, and fled from the room.
She simply sat there for a long, long moment and let herself cry, a deathgrip on Suibhne’s slowly reforming body.
Carefully, Dolores pulled herself off the floor, urgently yet pointedly moving through the burnt hallway and turning to the next one, only to come face to face with yet another problem. Or rather, many problems.
Lumbering through the tunnels in what felt like a pretty realistic reinvention of a zombie apocalypse, there might have been as many as a dozen undead limping through the hallway, their decaying bodies leaving pieces and stains along the floor.
The smell alone was enough to nearly knock the young magus down.
She couldn’t stay still.
Nor could she double back. Not when she might get surrounded from all sides.
It wasn’t like her swarm would be much help either. Not with these many zombies, and not when anyone of them might have hidden abilities like the small cadaver she’d just narrowly avoided. Instead, she pulled the warm in tight to her skin,glad that they’d cleaned each other after their kill, and steeled her spine.
‘Okay, Dolores. Keep calm. You can do this.’
Another deep breath.
‘First things first, I need a weapon.’
A gandr staff was a useful tool, but hardly appropriate for actually bashing someone’s head in. Not with her skill at reinforcement it wasn’t. Searching the abandoned room she was currently standing in, she knew she’d be hard pressed to find an actual weapon. But… this pipe wrench might be… and so would the length of pipe… and she found-
“Oh God!”
Dolores simply couldn’t stop the stomach acid this time. Stress and the stink and utter depravity the body had been subjected to was too much.
Most prominently, the large hunting knife was buried in its torso, which had been gutted open like a fish, allowing someone easy access to its insides which had been scattered about the area.
Unfortunately, the noise of her vomiting and her exclamation had drawn the wrong kind of attention. An undead was stumbling into the room and she whimpered as the thing began to groan and reach out towards her still hidden, but audible presence.
It was time to act. And that meant she needed to deal with this undead idiot, preferably before it gave away her location. So, eying the weapon she most wanted, Dolores took and deep breath and got ready to move.
Choice Time!
Danger! Due to your previous actions, combat based magecraft has been rendered temporarily disabled.
Danger! Dolores' swarm is ineffective against the enemy!
Danger! Suibhne the Bronze has yet to recover!
Survival Mode: Engaged
A desperate last resort in order to prevent a Bad End. Survival Mode allows Dolores to pick up equipment from her surroundings and use it in order to survive. Without any options, the next few choices may mean the difference between life and death.
Choose wisely...
Hmmm... Without Shiki's (either one of them) eyes, I'm not sure a knife would be that useful against a zombie, and a wrench probably doesn't have enough range.
I vote 1 - The Pipe.
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
A wise and beautiful woman who exudes an aura of grace. She is a sly, cunning, manipulative person who always gets what she wants, whether through trickery or ruthlessness. Her own fighting abilities are low, but she should not be trifled with. What does she ride? Men, of course!
