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About Malethia

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  • Birthday 11/16/1981

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  1. Full Name: Malethia Blazestone Nicknames: Mal, 'Thia Date of Birth: 16 November, Year 8 Age: 35 Race: Sin'dorei Gender: Female Hair: Blonde Skin: Fair Eyes: Golden Glow Height: 5'9" Weight: 104 lbs Place of residence: None Place of Birth: Silvermoon - Blazestone Manor Known Relatives: Quindel Blazestone (father, assumed deceased), Delaria Blazestone (mother, deceased), Melos Blazestone (younger brother, deceased) Religion/Philosophy: Zen Occupation: Adventurer, Sage Group/Guild affiliation: Sanctuary Enemies: The Scourge, the Burning Legion, the Twilight Hammer Weapon of Choice: Fists Physical Features: Malethia's skin is covered in tattoos, largely invisible save for flickers of arcane energy randomly flowing through them. They begin to glow brightly when she uses her abilities. Special Abilities: Malethia is a Runemaster; her tattoos channel arcane energy into her body to increase her physical prowess to increase her strength and agility, as well as granting her mystical abilities in conjunction with her Pandaren training. History Born to a great family of fire mages, Malethia Blazestone was destined to a life of luxury as one of the city's ruling Magisters. That destiny changed when the Death Knight Arthas lead the Scourge into Quel'Thalas; her family was slaughtered while she was left for dead. Malethia barely survived, but serious pyrophobia developed from the attack and prevented her from continuing her family's legacy. Salvation came from the newly founded Order of Blood Knights. Its Mistress, Liadrin, inducted her as one of the Order's first and youngest members. Driven by a desire for vengeance, Malethia excelled in her training but remained emotionally detached from others. On the eve of her ceremony bonding her to M'uru's power, the Naaru visited her in a dream. For reasons unknown, it unlocked her natural connection to the Light Primal. Now a paladin, Malethia held the source of her powers secret for fear of the stigma it would cause amongst her own people. Scared, confused, and alone, Malethia masked her natural personality behind that of a harsh Blood Knight taskmaster. Driven by rage and a desire for revenge against all who had wronged her, Malthia joined The Grim and their bloody war against the Alliance. The constant strife and bloodshed fractured her personality and she became increasingly unstable, until she was finally banished from their ranks. Broken and abandoned, she wandered lost until she encountered Vilmah Bloodborne by chance. After a conversation, she joined Sanctuary and embraced the path of peace as a priestess. Shortly before the Cataclysm, Sanctuary engaged the Twilight Hammer to prevent the deployment of a super-weapon capable of wiping out cities. Malethia seemingly sacrificed herself to destroy the weapon. Though believed dead, she was in fact trapped in the caverns beneath Silithus. Bereft of her connection to the Light, contaminated with fel and void magic, her personality completely split. She pursued a path of evil, killing innocents and pursuing insane acts of science and magic in an attempt to reclaim the soul she was convinced had been stolen from her. Eventually, her path took her to Pandaria in search of the dark energies of the Sha for use in her experiments. There, an attack upon a Pandaren village resulted in her capture. Sentenced to death for her crimes, a wandering monk happened to stop by. Seeing the young elf for who she was - a lost and wounded soul - he set her free. Using his mystical skills, the Pandaren cleansed Malethia of the magic infecting her and introduced her to the Way of Zen. After years of conflict both physical and spiritual, Malethia learned how to balance the warring fragments of her self. For the first time in her adult life, she became whole. Malethia spent years traveling Azeroth to learn the ways of the Runemaster, combining her training as a Monk with the arcane power of her family's legacy. With her new abilities, she decided it was time to rejoin the battle for peace, returning to Orgrimmar and entering the ranks of Sanctuary once again.
  2. "The entire way. If I hadn't stumbled across a Horde patrol near the border with Azshara, I likely might have been run down. I could tell I was being herded, but I didn't have any alternative." The battle had claimed a few lives, and only a lifetime of desperate combat kept Malethia from feeling the guilt over their deaths. She had brought the wolves down upon them, exactly as she had brought demons down upon the soldiers who served as her bodyguards on her world. She sat back in a chair to ponder the question posed to her. "From what I've been given to read so far, all I can give you is a rough 'maybe'. Certainly, it should have existed in my timeline; there's only a few decades of divergence from this one. The problem is that my Alliance's relationship with Kalimdor is a far cry from the one that was forged here. The kaldorei, trolls, and tauren were virtually wiped out by the time they joined, and any lore they might have carried with them was all but wiped out along with their civilization on the continent." She leaned forward, sighing as thoughts of her own timeline danced through her head. What was happening back there? Were her friends and family still alive? As much as this new world gave a greater sense of hope, that world was still her home. "One thing you must understand - there was no other threat. The Burning Legion was so powerful, their invasion so overwhelming, that groups who became your enemies here joined us against the demons. So when you ask me if Accalia was a threat, it's like asking me if a grain of sand on the beach is a different color." She contemplated the question for a few more moments. "That being said, I might still have useful information. This creature has some sort of connection to Moonglade, correct? On my world, the druids became tainted by Saergeras, as he twisted the Emerald Dream to his own ends. Anything that touched the Dream became fel-corrupted, including several demigods and the Green Dragonflight." Her eyes opened wide with horror. "You don't think this creature followed me through, do you? Is this a monster from my own world, come to finish what this world's version failed to do?"
  3. "Truce with Sanctuary. Might as well make a truce with a bunny, same risk and reward." Little known fact, succubi are very good at dying hair. The irony here was that she was dying it to Malethia's original blonde color, rather than the bleached-out pale blonde that had been hers ever since becoming a priest of the Light. Even falling into darkness had failed to undo that damage. "If you ask me, we should just stomp them out once and for all. They want to be a phoenix so bad, I'll set them on fire and let them flap their arms for a while." The succubus finished her task and held up a mirror to check her mistress's satisfaction. "It will serve." She didn't want to let on how much the sight of her old hair color disturbed her. "Now, fetch me a suitable wardrobe." The succubus disappeared into the closet, and emerged shortly with a set of black robes. "No, no. Too black." That eliminated half her wardrobe right there, but such was life. The demon shrugged, went back into the closet, and walked back out again, holding up a blue outfit. "Hells below! I didn't think it was possible to use that little fabric and still call it clothing. I'm trying to infiltrate an enemy guild, not a whorehouse." The succubus considered pointing out that the outfit was in the closet in the first place specifically because it belonged to Malethia, but decided against it. Exposing the truth wasn't worth the temper tantrum. "I think she wears red robes. I know I have some of those in there. Get to!" The succubus dug through the closet for a couple of minutes, finally locating her target and carrying it back out to the dressing room. "NO! There's skulls all over it! Sanctuary doesn't wear skulls!" The succubus gave her a pointed look. "What do you mean most of my outfits have skulls on them? Who does that? That's like a tauren putting grass all over their armor, bunch of cud-chewers." She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples. "Might as well carry a sign around my neck with a great big cartoon demon painted on it. Warlockery is an absurd occupation." ======================= A few hours and one stolen set of robes later, Malethia rode through the snowy landscape of Frostfire towards Sanctuary's garrison. Gloves hid her distinguishing feature - the charred appearance of her right arm - so that to all appearances she was her otherworld counterpart returning home. She was riding a flame-imbued hippogryph, one native to the plane of fire, instead of her usual felsteed or bike. As she approached, one of the orcish guards held out a hand to stop her. "I don't normally see you use the gate." Malethia shrugged. "I felt like taking a ride." "But I never saw you leave." "You know me! Always teleporting around and whatnot." She tried to put on her best smile. It felt like a cramp, as if the muscle had gone unused for so long it was weak. The guard turned and looked at his comrade, who carried some sort of device. Malethia's burning finger twitched, convinced her guise was breached and she'd have to fight her way free. The other guard, a troll, shook his head. "She be de real deal, mon. No 'llusion or nuddin." The orc nodded and stepped aside, gesturing her through with a salute. She returned it halfheartedly and breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she was out of earshot. She'd made the decision to leave all her demons behind instead of having one accompany her invisibly. Hopefully, the hard part was out of the way. If she could just avoid having to perform too much interaction, the rest of her task would be easy. Then again... a thought came to her as she looked out at Sanctuary's garrison buildings. "Which house is mine?"
  4. Indulgent? Perhaps. Given that she walked through a forest that she had only previously seen engulfed in green flames, she was willing to forgive herself the pleasure of a walk. On her Azeroth, these kinds of primeival forests just no longer existed. War had destroyed most of them, and the corruption of their druidic guardians by the Burning Dream had forever tainted the rest. She had heard tales of Ashenvale's beauty from a Kaldorei, but this was the first opportunity she'd had to witness it for herself. The view was breathtaking. She vaguely remembered the eternal spring of Quel'Thalas from her childhood, and the two could hardly be any more different. This was a realm of eternal twilight, the massive trees creating a canopy so thick that the sun was completely hidden from view. The sounds of nature around her provided a tranquility that she'd never known back home. It wasn't all beauty, however. She'd passed through the remnants of a logging camp on the way here, a nasty scar on this forest's flesh. Then there was the presence of demons. Her magical training had included ways to intuitively sense demonic energies, even over the interference of the corrupted Sunwell and Well of Eternity. With the constant conflict against the demons attempting to destroy Azeroth, it was essential that the mages traveling with military companies be able to provide a warning of attack, or recognize agents attempting to undermine the protection of the cities. With the lack of constant demonic taint in the air absent here, the ability was even clearer. Packs of demons, which she'd learned were the stubborn remnants from this world's "Third War", still roamed certain parts of this area. She could feel their locations almost as a rip in the magical weave that infused reality, their unnatural presence a blazing beacon in nature's tapestry that only increased when they gathered in numbers. Still, she was trying to enjoy a few hours of peace, so she ignored the instinct to burn out the nest of demons. The monsters were contained and held in check, and her efforts would be temporary at best. She could let it be someone else's problem without dire consequences. Unfortunately, it was the more mundane threats she had to concern herself with. Only years of combat training made her turn in place to look behind herself, just as an enormous wolf leapt to knock her to the ground. Her staff, already in hand for use as a walking stick, lashed out and struck the wolf in the ribs with enough force to provide her with momentum to spin out of the way. The beast landed where she had stood only a moment before, and snarled its anger at her. "Whoa, puppy. Did I walk into your yard? I didn't mean to." She held her arms out wide, trying to appear nonthreatening. "I'll just leave." She took a few steps back, and was stopped by the sound of more growling. Another wolf had appeared to cut her off. It was soon joined by two more, then four. She was surrounded, the pack forming a circle around her. "Well then. I assume this isn't just a simple misunderstanding, is it?" There was intelligence behind this attack, though these wolves seemed to be ordinary. Something was guiding them. There. She could feel it. Just the slightest tendril connecting them all to something else. The magic was faint, well-disguised, but it had been tainted. Not a demon, or a warlock, but the wolves were controlled by something with fel magic in its essence - just enough for her senses to detect it. The wolves howled and tensed, ready to pounce. Fortunately, she didn't scare easily. "EHOSIDHE!" Where a moment ago she had been alone, there were now four Malethias, each with flames burning in her hands. "DRUGASTI!" Suddenly the wolves pounced, but there were now three targets instead. Malethia turned invisible, rolling beneath one of the leaping beasts to escape the circle in which she'd been trapped. Taking a few precious seconds to make sure there were no other wolves waiting in ambush, she slipped behind a tree and allowed the invisibility spell to end. Her mirror images weren't faring well. One had already disappeared, and the other two were almost down as well. They'd gotten a few spells off, but the damage inflicted was minimal. Still, they'd bought her the time and distance she needed. "LALLAS ASHRAT!" A runic ring appeared underneath the combat. As the last of the illusions fell, the runes ignited with magical energy and exploded upwards, freezing each of her enemies in a block of supernatural ice. She took a moment to calm her thoughts, inhaled a deep breath, and began her own attack. She was a Blazestone. For centuries, her family had studied the very essence of fire and bent it to their will. While she had some skill in manipulating pure arcane energy, and even more with the magic of frost practiced by her mother, in her core she had inherited her father's bloodline. Her heart burned with pure fire - and though she tried not to enjoy violence, she secretly reveled at the opportunity to unleash the fire of her soul against those who deserved it. "QUINTAA THOLM!" She pushed her hands forward, and the mass of energy she had built up was sent screaming into the wolf that had originally attacked her. The ice containing it shattered from the sudden blast of heat, and the wolf's fur ignited. "OMAS HYTHI!" She punched the fist holding her staff out, and the wolf yipped as its very skin exploded. As it died, the flames engulfing it spread, melting the remainder of the wolves out of their icy prisons and setting them aflame as well. "OMAS THOLM!" She gathered the inferno within herself, slashing her staff down and launching another mass of flame into the pack, catching the middle beast in the flank as it struggled to recover. "ENDEDHELMI NATA!" That wolf died silently, consumed by the fire. She swept her staff out wide, and the flames blossomed out to crash into the remainder of its packmates. "RALMAS IVUTHREN!" She raised her empty hand to the sky, then punched it down towards the ground. A great burning comet appeared above the pack, then crashed into their midst. Howls of pain echoed through the forest, accompanied by the sound of burning leaves and the smell of cooked flesh. When the smoke cleared, all six wolves were dead, nothing more than charred corpses. Malethia closed her eyes and took another deep, calming breath. She pushed away the aspect of Issailma, the Flamemistress, which tended to creep upon her whenever she wielded the flame. It was a danger of her elemental attunement that she could become lost in the magic if she allowed herself to remain open to it for too long. When she felt herself asserted once more, she grinned and sighed with satisfaction. "A job well done, once again!" She tucked her staff under her arm and theatrically dusted the ash off her hands. "Looks like they were burning to end the fight!" She giggled at her own terrible pun. Another howl, this one deeper and more menacing, came from behind her and ended her mirth. Another wolf, this one even more massive than those that had already attacked her, sat there growling at her. Her blood froze in her veins as a couple of dozen more wolves stalked out of the forest; her magical sight saw the link between them and their apparent alpha, and from it on to their hidden master. Slowly, she reached into a pocket of her robe and grasped her hearthstone, whispering the words to another spell under her breath. "Aushri tabor." She suddenly turned, throwing the hearthstone out onto the road. As the spell took effect, it transformed into a magical steed, which whinnied impatiently as the wolves stalked closer. "I beg your master's forgiveness, but I'm not particularly in the mood to be eaten today." She suddenly realized what she was wearing, and sighed. "Red hood to the contrary. IMADHI ENELASA!" In the blink of an eye, she was standing beside her mount. She pulled herself into the saddle, and snapped the reins for a quick getaway. The magical construct had no problem complying. She thundered down the road, fangs snapping at her cloak as the entire pack gave chase. The race out of the forest was on.
  5. So. Damned. CLOSE! It was a wretched failure. She had been sure that her calculations had been correct, but matters had gone terribly wrong. Fortunately, the Grim had appeared too engaged in the battle against Sanctuary to recognize her scheming for what it was. If they knew how close she'd come to wiping it all out... Burn. The only explanation would be Saphiara's interference. The woman had managed to sacrifice all she'd worked for to prevent the destruction Malethia so desperately craved. The causality loop - turning two timelines against each other in a mutually destructive dance of impossibility - had been nullified. I could have ended the suffering. Her secret, the fact that she'd hidden from the Grim during her debriefing, was more than her treachery. Malethia had been momentarily caught in the feedback of the exploding dimensional ripper. For the briefest moment, simultaneously an infinity and a fraction of a second, she had existed in all times and places at once. For that one lifetime of a moment, she had known everything. For all intents and purposes, she had become a god. I was greater than anyone who ever existed. Then the laws of nature reasserted themselves, and she had lost it all. All that remained of that infinite knowledge was the constant ache of unfulfilled potential, of the longing to be complete once more. Even worse, she now had a twin. That other world's Malethia had been pulled through the breech, and escaped with Sanctuary. She had been forbidden from pursuing her counterpart's death or even capture. I hate her. She hated that this version of herself existed where all of the pain and loss hadn't occured. She hated that this other self was happy and free. I really, REALLY want to set her on fire. But even that probably wouldn't work; this imposter was a fire mage, exactly as she should have been before the Scourge marched through her homeland. She was everything Malethia wanted to be, was supposed to be, and had lost. Exhausted from hours of isolation in her lab pouring over every scrap of paper and diagram in hopes of rebuilding the device, Malethia fell asleep at her desk. The howling came from far away, another world entirely - the world of her birth. The howl was a test, examining her reaction, and she knew no fear. No, she felt an exhilaration - it was a promise of chaos, of bloodshed, of destruction. It offered power, and she wanted it. She knew this was no benevolent patron. This was a creature from beyond, and it offered power only so its pawns would be strong enough to take more of it. No matter - she was a warlock now. This was a common arrangement. It wasn't like she had a soul to lose anymore, so the risk seemed low compared to the potential reward. This creature was tainted, like she was. She knew that they were similar in circumstance - forced to accept the corruption of fel magic to survive. She also tasted a spark of what she had lost, that unfathomable depth of otherworldly knowledge that had been hers for that lifetime of a moment. "Yes, come. I, too, want this world to burn." The creature was careful to hide its identity. Why was that? Perhaps it was pursued, or hid an identity that carried with it a weakness. No matter - she was a brilliant manipulator, and a survivor. Make the deal now, exploit it later. "I accept your offer. Grant me your power, and I will cover this world in flames." The creature seemed to assent to the bargain, and she felt it withdraw. There was an unspoken promise of further contact, of a herald who would carry a sign of the creature's favor. On the day that herald appeared, the world would burn. Her eyes snapped open, and her gaze drifted to the wall above her desk. The glow from two candles combined there, creating a pair of intersecting rings. The remnants of some forgotten dream lingered in her mind, and the promise of fire unending flickered in her eyes. She grinned, pleased by a tomorrow she didn't even remember planning.
  6. <p>Nice. We should set up a time to play the garrison hijinks. Filora should definitely be there.</p>

  7. She had honestly forgotten what a blue sky looked like. Ever since the day her childhood had ended - the day the Legion had destroyed the Sunwell - the sky had been a sickly green. On those rare days when the sun was able to poke through the horizon while rising or setting, the sky instead turned a reddish brown color. People didn't look at the sky back home. It wasn't until she saw the blue sky again that she realized just how much people stared at the ground, and why. "Nudda drink, miss?" Malethia glanced over at the short green woman holding the tray. She'd seen a few goblins on her own world, but never interacted with one. They were nowhere near as prevelant as they were here. She didn't know why that was. "Yes, please." She handed over a silver coin, and the goblin exchanged it for a glass filled with another exotic drink. Thankfully, these goblins didn't seem to care that her coin was marked with Alliance personages and minting symbols. Gold was gold, at least to them. The Pleasure Palace was another one of those oddities that could never exist back home. Certainly there was war here, but it wasn't as pervasive as the struggle against the Legion. It was (usually, at least) Somewhere Else, and thus possible to escape for a while. Which was why the mage was lounging poolside being served fruity drinks. She figured she had earned an escape for a day. The peace and quiet allowed her time to absorb her situation. In the days following her arrival in this timeline, she'd been overwhelmed by the sheer alien nature of this place. At times, it was achingly familiar, which made it all the more jarring when she realized the vital differences. Somewhere behind her was Orgrimmar. The fortress-city stood in the same spot as New Arathor did, and its streets had the same general layout. However, where her city had an open-air market, this one had a gladatorial arena. The caverns beneath the city were dedicated to dark magic instead of the protection of civilians. The arcitecture was all wrong. It made her eyes hurt. There were bright spots however. The slopes of Mount Hyjal rose sharply before her, topped by the regenerated World Tree. That same tree burned night and day with an eternal green flame on her world, casting perpetual twilight over the last bastion of civilization on the continent of Kalimdor. She came from a world where hope had all but died. Sometimes, it felt like it was all they could do to buy the mortal races just one more day. Here, it at least felt like the potential was there for a better tomorrow. Certainly the enemies were fierce, but the determination to build a better tomorrow hadn't yet been snuffed out. She closed her eyes, letting the sun soak into her skin and warm her. The howling came from far to the northwest, chilling her to her core. She didn't fear it, even though she knew she was supposed to. She'd simply seen far worse, felt a much more horrid corruption infect everything around her, to let such evil penetrate her defenses. She was being hunted, of that she was certain. The eyes of a creature not of this world were upon her. She was a prize, this girl from a distant shore of the multiverse. The creature was like her, brought to this world from beyond. A kindred spirit in circumstances, but not in spirit. She felt the taint. Fel magic. A trained demon fighter, she knew the signs of corruption. Though certainly no fanatic of the Scarlet Crusade, she was still recognized as an Inquisitor of the Kirin Tor, a pure spirit who could resist the call of power the demons offered. "You have nothing to provide me." She didn't know who she was addressing. Knowing a creature's identity gave power over that creature, even if it was just in the form of knowledge. This creature wanted no advantage given away - the sign of a cunning and patient hunter. "I don't want power for its own sake. I want it for what it allows me to do for others. Yours is a selfish power, designed to take rather than to give. Begone." The creature withdrew, vowing to continue the hunt. The offer was an opening gambit, a means to avoid suffering and unneccessary effort on both sides. It would return, and the next time the hunt would be much more severe. Her eyes snapped open. When had she drifted off? Not surprising, given the wonderful weather, that she would take the opportunity for a peaceful nap. Yet another advantage this world gave her - places free from the anxiety of imminent danger. The sun had moved enough in the sky to indicate a couple of hours had passed. A dream lingered on the edge of her memory, but the details had faded. She remembered a sense of disturbance, of a great being bearing down on her. Oh well. Probably some remnant of her homeworld. Raising her finger, she signaled the serving goblin for another drink.
  8. "Fly faster, you damnable machine!" Malethia growled at the console of her flying machine, trying to will it to a higher speed without having it shake itself apart in the process. The waters of the flooded Thousand Needles were rapidly passing by below, but it wasn't rapid enough. It had been simple enough to convince some of the Grim to accompany her; though she wasn't technically in charge of the force, they had been forced to bow to her expertise in the matter. Their mission was two-fold; first, they were to capture Saphiara, with a preference of killing her over allowing her to escape. The assumption was that Sanctuary would be present, or would at least interfere with the operation once underway. Personally, Malethia was of the impression that they spoke the truth about not knowing the huntress's plans, or approving of them, but they had an annoying habit of showing up in a heroic fashion to have affairs swing their way. Malethia was responsible for the second part of the mission - stopping Saphiara from using her device, and claiming it for the Grim. She only cared about half the mission, because if she succeeded in her own goal, she wouldn't have to care about the Grim or the Horde ever again. They could all be damned to the Nine Hells as far as she cared. She just wanted her life back. The white sand of Tanaris suddenly appeared below them as they crested the mountains separating it from the flood zone. In the distance, framed by the rays of the setting sun, was their destination - the Caverns of Time.
  9. I think I'll participate with both Malethias! One villain, one victim.
  10. I'm assuming you mean Alliance side?
  11. "Well then, if you're working with the Grim then we definitely should kill you. As we told you before, Saphiara is ours to deal with, not yours." Yeah, that should keep up the charade well. Malethia pressed a few buttons on the chopper, then frowned and gave it a kick. With a grumble, the bike started up, belching smoke from its pipes. "Let's go, Filora. I have work to do. Or you can stay here and keep blabbering, I don't really care."
  12. "Wants to? No. I think this is accidental. She's too 'off her wheel' to recognize her mistake." Burn him. Burn him burn him burnhimburnhimburnhim! "These things belong to Sanctuary now. You can go on your merry little way. None of your business." She shooed him off with a dismissive wave of her hand and returned to the bike to continue her reading.
  13. Malethia was just about to fling her flames when the airhead stepped in. Granted, what she was saying made a level of tactical sense - after all, a fight out here was likely to draw out the town patrols at some point, and such a group had already done severe damage to a much larger group of Grim. Still, she really, really wanted to set this guy on fire. She flinched and yanked away at the other woman's touch. She didn't like to be touched. The fires had receded enough to make her thoughts lucid, but not enough to strip her of her passion. Good enough for the purpose. "I was once a priestess of the Light, and the Twilight took that from me. You'll have to forgive me if I've been a bit unstable since." She'd set him on fire later. Probably the airhead too, for touching her. She'd blame it on a cooking accident. "The traitor's name is is Saphiara Sunspell. She attacked my companion here as part of some unknown plot against the Horde. Now it looks like she's working against all of Azeroth."
  14. The grenade's shrapnel impacted Malethia, but instead of suffering injury the succubus screeched as numerous puncture wounds appeared on her body. At the stranger's comments, her eye twitched, and she suddenly slammed the book down as an aura of flame ignited around her."You DARE compare me to those who walk in Twilight?" The grass beneath her scorched as she stalked forward, the fire spreading to her hands. "Give me one excuse why I shouldn't incinerate your stinking corpse right here and now, and forget you ever existed in the next moment."
  15. The tree exploded in a burst of flames as the annoyed warlock waved her hand at it. "I. AM. TRYING. TO. READ!" Another succubus appeared, licking her lips eagerly. "Go ahead and play, love." The demon ran forward, attempting to worm her way into the opposing warlock's mind and shut him down. "I swear, I am confounded on a daily basis by the lowest denominator possible." She sat on the mechano-hog, chewing her lip as she attempted to decipher some of the more esoteric writings. On occasion, she dug through one of the crates, pulling out a piece of a device and examining it thoughtfully. "WILL YOU KEEP IT DOWN?" Malethia growled at the combat swirling around her. "I swear, I am surrounded by moronic plebeians."