"WAHOOOOOOO!"
The shrill, delighted noise of Chancy's shrieking echoed throughout the province as the lass zipped by the numerous pedestrians in the market district whilst flying upon her beloved broom. Her hair, which was long, blonde, and unrestrained, whipped violently behind her as she shamelessly played about with her magic. Some considered her to be a nuisance - like the poor women she unintentionally upskirted as she passed. Some found her antics delightful and refreshing - mainly nostalgic old mages and the men who bore witness to said upskirting. Either way, Miss Chance didn't give a damn how people felt about her - her magic was her own and as long as the law allowed it, she would use it as she pleased. Besides, the Radiant Dawn headquarters was close enough - well in sight in fact - so she simply didn't see the harm. It was better than flying about in the libraries and sending important papers flying, wasn't it? 'Pah! Grubby ol' geezer still ain't got off my back for that, and it's been weeks!' she thought to herself in a brief moment of bitterness before losing herself once more in the sensation of being free.
~*~*~
Meanwhile, in a forest encampment only known to the greediest of scoundrels and the vilest of ne'er-do-wells, trouble was brewing. To be more specific, some big hunk of meat thought that he could to a better job ruling the ragtag group of misfits than a "bloody witch" ever could - although he hadn't used the word 'witch'. Said witch was standing in the middle of them all; calm, collected, and with enough presence to put any Queen to shame. In a way, she was, for these ungreatful pigs were her people - and she their long suffering sovereign. As baser creatures, they simply couldn't help that they were too stupid to know better than to provoke the military ice mage who - by now - has made it perfectly clear that she has absolutely no qualms about killing anyone who gets in her way. Her eyes, as blue and icy as the element she mastered, were narrowed in annoyance at the group of men before her. The biggest one, who stood in front of the few morons he'd managed to convert, was known to her as Lars. He'd been monologing for some time now about how women simply weren't fit to lead until, naturally, Circe grew bored and stopped paying attention. She might have been a lithe looking thing, but you didn't have to be strong to be an effective killer. While he'd been ranting, she'd loaded her crossbow - and without waiting for him to finish - shot the fool dead within a single shot. Before his lackies had a chance to surrender or fight back, she killed them too - but instead by icy projectiles through the skull - courtesy of her beloved Obsidian Staff. Once the matter was settled, she looked boredly to the rest of her criminal court and dully asked, "Anyone else wish to waste my time?"
The shrill, delighted noise of Chancy's shrieking echoed throughout the province as the lass zipped by the numerous pedestrians in the market district whilst flying upon her beloved broom. Her hair, which was long, blonde, and unrestrained, whipped violently behind her as she shamelessly played about with her magic. Some considered her to be a nuisance - like the poor women she unintentionally upskirted as she passed. Some found her antics delightful and refreshing - mainly nostalgic old mages and the men who bore witness to said upskirting. Either way, Miss Chance didn't give a damn how people felt about her - her magic was her own and as long as the law allowed it, she would use it as she pleased. Besides, the Radiant Dawn headquarters was close enough - well in sight in fact - so she simply didn't see the harm. It was better than flying about in the libraries and sending important papers flying, wasn't it? 'Pah! Grubby ol' geezer still ain't got off my back for that, and it's been weeks!' she thought to herself in a brief moment of bitterness before losing herself once more in the sensation of being free.
~*~*~
Meanwhile, in a forest encampment only known to the greediest of scoundrels and the vilest of ne'er-do-wells, trouble was brewing. To be more specific, some big hunk of meat thought that he could to a better job ruling the ragtag group of misfits than a "bloody witch" ever could - although he hadn't used the word 'witch'. Said witch was standing in the middle of them all; calm, collected, and with enough presence to put any Queen to shame. In a way, she was, for these ungreatful pigs were her people - and she their long suffering sovereign. As baser creatures, they simply couldn't help that they were too stupid to know better than to provoke the military ice mage who - by now - has made it perfectly clear that she has absolutely no qualms about killing anyone who gets in her way. Her eyes, as blue and icy as the element she mastered, were narrowed in annoyance at the group of men before her. The biggest one, who stood in front of the few morons he'd managed to convert, was known to her as Lars. He'd been monologing for some time now about how women simply weren't fit to lead until, naturally, Circe grew bored and stopped paying attention. She might have been a lithe looking thing, but you didn't have to be strong to be an effective killer. While he'd been ranting, she'd loaded her crossbow - and without waiting for him to finish - shot the fool dead within a single shot. Before his lackies had a chance to surrender or fight back, she killed them too - but instead by icy projectiles through the skull - courtesy of her beloved Obsidian Staff. Once the matter was settled, she looked boredly to the rest of her criminal court and dully asked, "Anyone else wish to waste my time?"