John
At the woman's words, Aspeth looked up to the sky. Her grin only widened at what she saw. Not a single bird in the sky. She was not to die today, her life was guaranteed by her Goddess, and she would fight in earnest. Once her Goddess had claimed a victory against the Champion of another, then people would begin to believe. Her Lady's following would grow, and she knew that she would be rewarded through her faith. "Oh, darling. You won't be able to kill me. Your hag God's power isn't enough to even touch me." Confidence in her words. Glee within her eyes. She readied her blade for the woman to attack, and her free hand flicked the flintlock out of it's holster. Reloading would be a pain, but that's what the second hidden one was for.

That had been such a fantastic gift for her.

Then, the wind began to kick up the sand. Aspeth watched as visibility worsened. She had to admit she was rather shocked at the sight, watching the silhouette of the woman vanish. Aspeth could not help but laugh as a thick smog began to flow from her mouth. "Oh, what fun!" How ironic that the two would have an ability that ruins visibility within the area. Aspeth was even able to see through her own smoke, but not the sand that was flying around the arena. With the wind blowing, her own magical smoke was easily spread around the area. The poor citizens that were still inside the plaza would have such a difficult time figuring out just where they were meant to be going. Meanwhile, Amunet herself would be hearing some sort of strange heartbeat pounding within her ears. Was it her own? Perhaps something else?

In the end, it was all an illusion to confuse.

.
Of course, she still had to defend against the attack that was quickly approaching. With the blindness within the area, it was easy to miss a strike even by a small mark. Luckily for Aspeth, the chainmail and leather she wore beneath stopped the blades before they could do a major amount of damage. However, that did not mean that receiving a two blades into one's body wasn't a pleasant experience. With a scream of pain, she brought up the flintlock as fast as she physically could. Being blind was definitely the worse way to use a weapon, but the crack of gunpowder was usually a decent way to get someone to back off. Even if her bullet went sailing off into the crowd that was within the plaza, it would merely stop when it struck something.

Or someone.

But she was not going to be finished there. Dropping the pistol to the ground, Aspeth did not stop her little attack. She swung blindly into the fog and sand, trying to see if she would land a hit upon anything. Finesse was not apart of these slashes. She was going for blood, and she would paint a beautiful mural within the plaza with it. A letter to her divine protector that would prove her loyalty. But for as long as Amunet had the sand blowing, Aspeth would keep her smoke billowing. The two being blind would be such a silly little fight, but Aspeth was certain that she would gain the upperhand somehow. As the swung, she allowed a voice to ring through the thick smoke. **"A battle of the blind! Do you wish to see who's faith is stronger?**" It seemed like the voice came from everywhere. A voice without a body filled to the brim with joy and, quite literally, blind faith. 

Though, Aspeth did have a plan to ruin the credibility of the Champion before anything. Slowly, she began to make her way towards the edge of the crowd. Where panicked citizens were trying to figure out just what was happening. She allowed the smoke to clear around her, just enough for Amunet to see her silhouette.
Laurie
The Wind Dancer was stunned to see an ability seemingly so similar to her own. It wasn't often she had run into it. This woman was becoming endlessly infuriating, in every possible way. Amunet's rambling thoughts momentarily landed on worry for the people scattered about the plaza. She'd hate for anyone to get caught in the crossfire of this battle, but she didn't have a great solution. The winds of her sandstorm might push away the smog as she got closer; that would remain to be seen. But it didn't extend enough to clear the area. She would have to pull out her fan for that, and she didn't like the thought of giving up a blade, so she dismissed it, begging Elira's forgiveness as she gave in to her bloodthirst towards this wench.

A heartbeat thumping in her ears was a sudden surprise; had she been so focused on the fight that she had missed her own heart getting so loud? No matter, it wasn't like she was dying here today. Her inner turmoil was too great for her to even form words; she was beginning to hate this woman with a wild passion. She also feared giving up the advantage of her obscurity if she opened her mouth. Feeling her blades hit armor, however, she let out a frustrated growl as she whirled around to, what she hoped, was to the side or behind her target. The crack of a gun sounded all too close, almost simultaneously, and she felt the shot graze her arm slightly, a persistent burning sensation now lingering. Her cry of pain was paired with reaching out the arm with her cobra, which lurched out towards the sound, fangs beared. It would bite and latch on, filling the target with a poison that would only greatly sicken, not kill. The bitch would soon be left emptying her guts out a bit violently, but also loudly, as Amunet was counting on.

With the lightning fast reflexes of her divinely empowered dodging, she flowed easily around each strike Aspeth tried to land. It was an advantage for her in her sandstorm for her opponent to be using larger blades and swinging wildly; those were easier to hear coming, and with her heightened reflexes, not terribly hard to dance away from. Her rage finally at a breaking point for speech, she yelled in a voice rough with emotion, **"If it is a battle of faiths, then you won't be leaving here alive today!! How could you possibly think your puny faith is stronger than one of the gods' chosen?"**

Light blue eyes flicked to the silhouette beginning to appear at the edge of the crowd. She knew the stupid wretch would make a mistake eventually. She lunged with a dagger positioned for what should be a killing blow, because she would be shocked if the pirate had armor on her *Throat*.
John
The pirate could only imagine how gorgeous the chaos was from the outside. How terrified the citizens of the city must have been. She could already imagine the stories that would come. A sandstorm mixed with a fiery smoke that seemed to cause panic just from being near. The fear of what could have been their destruction. Oh, how weak they were. How pathetic they were. If only they had listened to her Lady's words, then they would known when it was there time. It was such a shame to see such a faithless city. It was practically begging to be educated on how powerful She was. Aspeth was filled with joy to give such a lesson. She would make sure it would be one to last generations.

The cry of pain was exactly what she wanted to hear within this storm. It brought her gaze towards the general location of the Champion, just as the cobra launched forwards. A look of anger appeared on her face as the teeth sunk in, doing her best to bite down the pain, she brought her blade up before slamming it down on the cobra, planning to cut off it's head. Getting rid of it was her best option, even as the poison was setting in. This was going to be a rather difficult thing to deal with, but she was sure that some slum would have a apothecary that would be happy to help for the right amount of coin. It was an illness that would be dealt with later.

The blade that Amunet thrust forward was met with the resistance of flesh and bone. The spray of blood was audible, and so were the screams of horror from the citizens that it had landed on. A pair of hands were placed upon Amunet's, shaking in fear and shock. They did their best to try to understand what was happening from touch alone. But for poor Amunet, with the close distance, she would have noticed the tan skin and slowly fading green eyes of the woman she had just murdered.

.
The one at the end of the blade was *Not* Aspeth. 

She was merely a citizen of the city. She could have been a mother that had gone to the market to pick up bread for the night's dinner. Perhaps a daughter that had taken lunch to her merchant parents. Her story had been ended, and the story shut. She was a beautiful woman, with a necklace that seemed to shine with her eyes. Her clothes seemed to be handmade, perhaps she dreamt to be a tailor in her older years.

Aspeth saw a chance to break a person. Despite the sickness that was threatening to make her lose her lunch, she sent out her illusions to deal with the situation whilst she moved away to hurl in peace. The first were the voices within the smoke. Screams of terror and calls of *Murderer* And *Traitor* Would sound within the Champion's ear. All the whilst the illusory clone of Aspeth appeared from the smoke and sand. "Oh dear. Seems your faith is much too blind. You're just like me now. A slaughter of innocents." Her voice was scathing, and quite insulting. But there was no denying that laughter that escaped afterwards.
Laurie
The Champion of Elira didn't quite fight with the grace she normally did. Her movements were fluid, her strike true, and her dodges more like a dance than movements to keep her alive. But her divine righteousness nor her desire to serve and protect were driving her in this moment. Terror that her son was being threatened, shock at the audacity of this bitch to track her *So far*, and the accumulated rage of so many years were her driving forces in this particular moment. She was only beginning to become aware that she had uncorked something that wouldn't go back from whence it came. And with such forces informing her movements, they were wilder, harder, and more lethal than she'd ever been before. She was no longer in control.

The spirit creature she had summoned dispersed with a faint shimmering burst as its head was lopped off. She had gotten everything she needed out of it, so this loss didn't phase her. It could be summoned again, its death was more like a slumber until it was needed once more. Feeling her blade contact flesh and bone, the Desert Flower had a momentary thought to strike this wretch in the heart as well, to be sure it was done, to be sure she would no longer be haunted by this treacherous ghost. But hearing and feeling the spray of blood settled her own boiling blood somewhat, satisfying her that the menace was dead. The screams of nearby civilians wasn't ideal. She hated for her own people to see her this way, as she usually was able to conduct her business elsewhere or behind closed doors. But it *Had* To be done; she would suffer this woman and her insults, her threats, no longer.

And that was when the trembling hands on her own cleared the red haze of rage and bloodlust from her eyes. The woman gurgling, wide green eyes terrified and fixed on *Her*, grasped at Amunet desperately, covered in her own blood. The shock was too great for the Champion, who just stared back at the woman with an equally terrified stare muttering, **"No, no, no,"** Breaking off in almost a whine as her voice broke. She held the woman with shaking arms as she breathed her last, her own choking sobs bubbling up and scaring her with their sudden appearance. She managed to choke out, **"I'm so sorry!! I didn't mean..."**

The calls of *Murderer* And *Traitor* Reached her ears. With a gasp, looking up at the people around her, she was met with faces filled with disgust, anger, and worst of all to her, *Fear*. Seeing her own people, the ones she'd sworn to protect the *Most*, looking at her like some common criminal, like some *Threat*, cut her more deeply than any blade ever could. A sudden chill washed over to the very marrow of her bones. Amunet was momentarily frozen until she heard the pirate speak. Laying the woman down gently, tears still streaming down her face and the force of her own crying wracking her small frame, she lunged at the cause of all this trouble with a wordless cry of fury...

...Only to pass right through the laughing bitch, who turned to face her on the other side, laughing even harder now. Pure shock was written all over Amunet's face, until it clicked: an illusion. *A godsdamned illusion.* Her fury reached new heights for a brief second before she realized how covered she was in an innocent's blood, how the people around her were backing away instead of smiling and greeting her like she'd become so accustomed to. The Champion of Elira found herself with a crowd filled with confusion and fear, rather than adoration and awe, for the first time in her life. Coming to a stand shakily, she felt her own breathing becoming quick, *Too quick*, as she felt she couldn't gasp for enough air. Her frantic eyes found Sassan–safe, thank Elira–on the other side of the crowd. His was also a face of shock, the guards holding him back as he struggled, literally and figuratively, to understand what had just happened. 

The Wind Dancer felt the world falling in around her, and her panicked mind raced frantically for a solution. She couldn't find the words to reassure her people, for the first time, so she said nothing. This moment, this feeling, took her back, far back into her past. That same feeling of wishing she didn't exist creeped up on her, that same feeling of hopeless helplessness and that damned feeling of *Lacking power*. How could that be, though? Elira was on her side, was she not? Her questioning only increased her panic, and she let her feet carry her based on instinct alone to the only place she felt she could go.