"That is Nymeria’s star, burning bright, and that milky band behind her,
those are ten thousand ships. She burned as bright as any man, and so shall I."
– Arianne Martell
Username:Deertush
Name:Nymeria
Battle Tale:Dust and debris from the grueling battle floated aimlessly throughout the still air, signaling the ending to the grande battle that thousands had witnessed. Only a handful of those thousands would live to tell the tale however. The pelts and liquid plasma of fallen warriors and past legends gruesomely decorated the grey and barren land, only the crimson stained furs of all variants coloring the landscape like some cruel and twisted painting. A lonely figure wobbled through the battlefield, tufts of fur missing along with the being's right hand. He dragged a broadsword at his side, the loud groan of metal scraping against fallen rubble filling his torn ears with agony. Heaving gasps of breath separated each hobbling step, even in such a state of peril the rukami would not cease till his gazing eyes found what they searched for.
Her. The prey had been located . She lay amidst the bodies of her fallen comrades, although the faint rise and fall of her chest spoke of the difference between her and the others.
"Ser Nymeria. At last...!" His voice was gravelly, matching the dark tones of the situation. It scratched at her ears as if it were fire. And just from the tone of his voice alone she could tell, he was no friend.
"Ahahaha!! Apologies. Ye probably don't rememba me." The stranger gave a mocking bow, his voice laced with sarcasm. The walnut-colored face twisted in madness.
"I think about ye a lot, ya know. You's tha she-devil who chopped off me hand." In mere seconds the light tone of his voice turned serious, a growling rumble filling his chest and raising his hackles.
Nymeria struggled to stay conscious during the monologue, she was well aware that if she slipped into darkness now she wouldn't wake up from whatever this stranger had had planned.
"I have no recollection of you or whatever treachery you committed against the Land. Whatever has occurred to you has been at your own fault and your fault alone. If you have a problem with how criminals are dealt with then take it up with the Gods and pray to regrow your lost limb." The steady amber glare she kept with the blue-eyed criminal held, not an ounce of fear showing.
"I think it is rather becoming of you. For in my eyes I see it as seeing less of you. And the less of you I see at this moment, the better. To ponder about such past quarrels is a sure sign of weakness." With a snarl she heaved herself onto her hind legs, the trained muscles finding perfect balance instantly.
In the moment she moved the stranger lunged, yelling as he brought the broadsword in an overhead arc. The clang of the steel clashed against empty air and dirt, the Dame almost dancing with him even in such a weakened state. The obvious difference in fighting experience was pathetic. He once again sneered in seething hatred, using all of his strength to raise the normally double-handed blade with a moaning yell. By the time the metal had reached the end of its arc it was clear she was gone again. In fact, Ser Nymeria was out of sight. A sudden pain in the tendons of his hind leg brought him to bawling like a hound, rage filling him as he swung mildly at the quick target. Weariness quickly slowed his limbs as she had planned.
It wasn't like the glorious deaths he had read about or heard of. It was short. A quick pierce from Nymeria's needle-like rapier was enough to stop the ex-thief. And that was all that she would do to acknowledge him. Such a monster and traitor of the lands did not deserve her attention. Now awake and wary, she took one last glance back at her passed comrades and knightly friends before roaming away to find refuge and safety. This battle was over but the war was not.
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