(https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/006/890/275/large/pablo-fernandez-dragon-rider-final-3.jpg?1502037399)<br/><strong>Wrath<br/>Road to the Valenlands<br/>Tag: Taris</strong><br/>Wrath- Combat theme (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ViIWrFABZmQ)<br/><em>Initiative Order: Taris -&gt; Wrath (Bleeding, Raging, moderatly heavily injured)</em><br/><br/>"Yeah, A'd rather just fight ta the death maself, or, ye know, fight ta near death and then survive ta fight again tomorro'... but ya've never heard Pride bitchin... s' really good at it." Jeska noted. Then, she raised her brows at Taris continued spellcasting. "A swear ye're cussing me out somethin' fierce there. A'ight, whatever gets yer blood pumpin!" The grin had never left her face.<br/><br/>Again, Wrath was impacted with both Taris bloodied shots.. and bloodlust, and this time, she hesitated for a longer moment, watching the arrows draw dripping blood from her. "A harrr harrr harr harrrr!" She laughed a lustful, throaty laugh.<br/><br/>"This is ya getting started eh..? A apologize for not takin ya serious.. Ya see, A've been fighting against weaklings for so many years, it makes me weak and dull.. but nothing like a good shot and bathing of blood ta shake ye up. I'ma get serious now, aye?" She chuckled, blood flowing freely from arrow-wounds. And then, her eyes focused for Taris seriously, it seemed, for the very first time.<br/><br/>Blood shot from the gaping wound in Taris chest, a sword embedded within. When had she been cut? How? The moment Taris stared down upon her, the feeling of having been cut down had already passed again. She stood there, uninjured and realized this had just been the feeling of pure bloodlust before her, as Wrath raised her sword, tilting her head. "Ha har har har harrrrrr!" The woman made, and reached past the illusiory images, grabbing onto the real and briefly distracted Taris' shoulder, clamping down withthe strength of an ogre. No.. propably something beyond ogre, not that Taris could compare that well. "Got youuuu" She cooed, hand clasped on Taris shoulder, before hammering that sword down upon her, with little room to dodge away now.<br/><br/>Wraths strength was inhuman. And Taris had been right. She did not want to get his by this sword. She did not have a say in this matter however, as Wrath, either through luck, or another way, had found the right one among the remaining illusions, releasing her grip again after painting Taris in red with her own blood. Had that vision of bloodlust she'd seen be a vision of her immanent future in Wrath's strike? Did the woman have some unknown abilities she didn't know about? Well, right now, Taris had other worries.<br/>(Taris takes 39 Slashing damage.)<br/><br/>Then, the woman tilted her head, her smile making place for an expression of hesitant disappointment as the dire injury was mimicked on the illusiory Taris copies.<br/>"What the? Dat it?" She said, leaning back, and hefting that devastating sword over her shoulder, serrated edge glinting with red.<br/>"Come on, ya still got fight left in ya, aye?" She demanded to know, slapping her chest and slightly jingling an arrow in embedded into her abdomen. "Been a long time anyone managed ta hurt me dis good with such tiny pointy things." She mused to herself. Why did she sound so.. hopeful?