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Date Posted: 12:54:17 01/28/02 Mon
Author: Laurel Goldleaf
Subject: Too much to handle
In reply to: Ravin and Marz 's message, "Mass destruction" on 10:09:15 01/28/02 Mon

Laurel shook her head when Erlic asked her if she had a spell to immobilize Argus should the need arise. Obviously not, otherwise she would have made use of such a spell countless times before, during the previous battles and skirmishes they had encountered! He didn’t seem to consider that, though, and naturally made the same assumption that most non-magic folk made, which was to assume that all mages were alike and capable of working the same spells.

Not that she herself was physically unable to handle such a working. But during her schooling, Laurel had never put much emphasis on the art of battle magic, preferring animal husbandry and healing to most other classes. In fact, she had been considering pursuing her graduate mastery in healing before the revolution occurred, forcing the school to close down, as the rebels did not approve of or even trust the existence of magic-users.

Of course, once she was thrown out to live on her own, Laurel did do her best to perfect her abilities. She was naturally inclined toward earth-magic, but had a slight pulling toward air and water, too. She could, in fact, have pursued weather-magic, but had opted for the druidic school, since she felt it suited her nature more.

There was precious little she could use earth-magic for, however, when it came to paralyzing an enemy. She knew there were certain spells, dangerous spells, which would slow an enemy’s bloodstream down, or make their bones move painfully against one another in their bodies. But not only had she been horrified by these killing spells, but she was also not about to attempt them on her own without the assistance of a master. Although healing had interested her greatly, she was not to study human or elven anatomy in great depth until she reached graduate school.

Air and water-magic were harder for her to manipulate, but did seem more inclined toward combat usage than earth. One could stop the air in the lungs of an enemy, or slowly turn the blood in their bodies to water. Such intricate skills were beyond her ability, though. She had, however, been attempting to perfect her air bubble spell, which was to cause the surrounding air to thicken and form a sort of shield. It was exceptionally difficult to maintain, though. Not only that, but the mage working the spell also had to be conscious of the fact that her foe could not breathe while he or she was trapped. If one wanted one’s captive alive, this could easily turn into a problem.

While pondering her own simple abilities, Laurel had been listening vaguely to Argus relate his tale—or rather, Barry’s interpretation of it, anyway. Her first inclination, once he finished, was to rush over to the mirror and slam the heel of her boot into it, smashing it into a million pieces. Such a vile magical object was simply too dangerous to allow to continue unmolested; just look at what had happened when ignorant peoples had gotten their hands on it. And this poor creature Argus had suffered most of all!

What was to be done with the mirror would have to be decided later, though. Once he was given a clean bill of health, Argus decided to clean the rest of himself up, and he headed off in the direction of the ever popular pond to wash off. Erlic departed, too, giving Laurel a kiss on the cheek before turning his back to her, leaving her, as ever, with nothing but a mysterious half-worded explanation for where he was going and what he intended to do.

She sighed and made a face at him, putting her hands on her hips and tapping one foot irritably as he walked off. For all his great speeches about trusting her and letting her into his special guild, he sure liked to go off on his own a lot! Laurel was as unlike him as possible, in that respect; although she didn’t actively seek out the company of others, she more than enjoyed a good, spirited conversation among friends. She rarely sought her own company, and usually only happened to be alone simply because no one had attempted to come and join her. Unfortunately, she was never one to rudely interrupt a gathering, and so often found herself seated alone at a table, content to sit alone, but wishing just the same that she might have a bit of company after all.

As she walked back to camp, a truly fabulous idea came to her mind. She would go swimming. Certainly seemed to be the fashion around here lately, in any case. The fleeting thought that she might ask Erlic to join her disappeared quickly, as she saw him engaged in conversation with a rather sullen looking Tristan. The boy kept looking back toward camp, although to see what, she couldn’t be sure. Those gathered around the campfire looked as peaceful as can be.

When she spotted Ravin, a happy smile came to Laurel’s face, and she quickened her pace to reach him more quickly. Surely, he could do with a quick swim, especially if he wanted to start washing all that dried blood from his earlier wound. Perhaps she could even help him, if he feared tearing at the stitches while he attempted to undress. She stared at him from afar, admiring his strong arms and thin hips, deciding that it would be excessively enjoyable to help him undress. Oh, scandalous thought!

Blushing ever so slightly now, she continued to make her way toward camp, altering course when she saw Ravin get up and head toward the pond on his own. The sound of water splashing made her sigh in disappointment; apparently, he hadn’t needed any help. A very naughty thought flashed across her mind, and she wondered what harm it would do just to take a little peek around the bushes. If she were spotted, she could simply say she was off to take a swim on her own, and hadn’t realized this spot was already taken.

Just as her fingers were about to part the leaves before her, however, the splashing noises disappeared, to be replaced with the frightening sounds of what must be a scuffle of some sort. Instinctively, Laurel backed away, but she angrily stepped forward again when she realized that Ravin must be in some kind of trouble. Nervously fingering the long knife at her belt, Laurel was ready to step through the shielding bushes and see what she could do when a sudden shout from within made her pause once again.

“ASSASSINS!!” shouted Ravin, his voice ringing out loud and clear. Biting her lip in nervous anticipation, Laurel now burst through the bushes, her knife in hand. She almost fell over at the sight of a naked Ravin crouched over the body of a turban-headed stranger. Before she could gawk for too long (it was actually probably more in shock at seeing the two dead bodies than anything else), though, Ravin suddenly called out to her to duck. She did, hearing two darts whiz just past her head before embedding themselves into nearby trees.

“Oh! Sweet lady!” she cried, feeling flustered at having to face unseen attackers. Hastily, she gathered her wits about her and flung her arms into the air, chanting the first thing that came to mind. “Saltate, arbores!” Immediately, the surrounding trees began to shake as if dancing, causing the three assassins crouching up in their branches to fall to the ground.

Before she could pat herself on the back for a job well done, though, something strange began to happen. It was as if the earth suddenly starting wobbling crazily out of control. The ground shuddered, the sky screamed and cackled with lightning, and the nearby pond began bucking out violent, giant-sized waves.

Perhaps because she was still feeling so exulted about taking out the three assassins, Laurel put her arms into the air once again, determined to try and help still the unquiet earth. Before she could even open her lips, though, she felt strong magic swirl into her as she opened her own magical barriers in preparation for another spell.

The power was more intense than anything she had ever encountered before. And yet, although she knew the clever thing to do was to back off and attempt to shield herself from it, she felt herself latching gladly onto this new, alien immense wealth of power, letting it soak into her veins and fill up her entire being with an unearthly glow.

She tried desperately to utter the words of another spell, but nothing would come out of her mouth save a vague, inarticulate scream. The power surged and bucked wildly out of control, making her body convulse ever so slightly, her red hair flaming about her like some forest witch’s. Finally, the power was too much for her meager talents, and she toppled to the ground, knocked unconscious by the sheer violence of the foreign magic.

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