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Artie

They carefully watched her staggering figure hit the forest floor. The clashing of weapons behind them was background music. It was as if the battle took a deep breath, keeping some sort of magic at bay, whatever lurked in the gloom had the duo on their toes. Artie’s knuckles grew white as he tightened his grip on his sword. He shook his head at the time when she called him out. It was like a bell left chiming from a distant memory, leaving him frightened to the core. Charming regarded his partner but made no comment.

The duo swiftly turned back, when Charming hit the ground with a grunt. Artie, over his shoulder, grimaced at the sight behind him. The corpse’s hand had grasped onto the older man’s ankle, both of their eyes widen like saucers with their hearts in their throats.

Snow white hair danced fiercely over her eyes, the color transcending into jet black, and some kind of magic bathing her body in an eerie arura. There on her face plastered a grin so impossibly wide like the corners of her lips were pulled with fishhooks. A murderous gleam flitted across her eyes.

“I thought you finished the job!” Shouted the younger man. He slashed his sword down at her lingering death grip, the blade slicing off the fingers, as he fell back in line in a two-against-one fight once more.

Charming wiggled his foot and relieved the blood to course back in his leg. “I did.” He hissed back.

The corpse rose from the forest floor with no signs of struggle from a recent fight. A terrible coughing fit erupted from her lips, but they both exchanged panic expressions with each other with horrible realization.

It was a laughing fit.

“Don’t tell me that was your final blow!” she clicked her tongue, “You’re supposed to poke more holes into my stomach and chest, and to really make sure I’m officially dead, off with my head!” she dipped her head back and let out a blood-curdling cackle.

“You’re right, I should have done a more efficient job. My mistake.” Charming gritted his teeth through blood and bone and charged forward with Artie by his side, lunching their swords in unison, but the enemy was somehow always one step higher than them. She parried them with a ray of dark magic, Artie side-stepping the attack, but his partner not so lucky as he was grazed just the right of his shoulder. His skin peeling into the night as if he was seared by a blazing wave of fire. He howled in agony, clutching his tunic-soaked arm, and fell to one knee. His partner pressed forward with perfect formation. He dodged all daggers in one fluid motion, as if he was dancing with the devil.

Artie was only inches from her face, each of their blades in an intense embrace, when he peeked into her eyes and saw a different kind of light reflecting back at him. This wasn’t the same woman they fought, oh no, this right in front of him was someone entirely different – someone with much more battle experience than him, and possibly more than anyone else in the resistance.

With such immense force, she sent Artie flying backwards. He twisted through the air and anchored his sword into the ground before he came to a halt. He lifted his sweaty gaze up at the woman, who sauntered her way to him. In the beginning of the battle, when Charming and he detected that the woman was emotionally unsuited for the fight, they targeted her assuming that this was an easy win. But seeing how the tables have turned on them, the odds for winning were slim.

Artie steeled himself and raised his sword only to lower it in confusion. The black-haired woman picked up her pace, in one hand she drew up a dark fire ball the size of a bowling ball and randomly shot it around in all directions. All in which causing damage to whoever – wherever – they flew. “Ah hah, hah, ah hah!” a strange tinge of red blushed her face and she held her stomach. “This is beautiful, absolutely beautiful! Seeing how everyone is here to shed their blood for me is astonishing, come forward, I promise it won’t hurt much!” She came sprinting for him, leaving a trail of unnerving laughter, and jumped into the air with that same daunting grin and bewildered eyes.

Out of the blue, a rip through space cut close to where the woman would’ve hit Arthur, when Charming leapt from the portal and slit the air with his sword. Just by an inch, he missed as she glided over him and ran off.

Was he not her target?

“Arthur,” Charming ran to him breathless, “We must order a retreat.”

Hearing this had Arthur picking up his sword and bitterly striking the earth. “No, we can do this – we have to! This is our night!”

“Can’t you see the mayhem that bitch has created?” He pointed to the woman with the gaping hole in her side. “Half of us is severely wounded. Whatever black magic the empire has spouted will surely end this war if we don’t withdraw now.” He was right, and Artie knew they shouldn’t risk anymore lives. They drew their attention back to the woman, when she suddenly appeared a few feet away from them.

“Whew, did NOT see that coming!” She hunched over on her knees and wheezed. “She needs more exercise. Well then, let’s dance.” She sent forth a knife, aiming right at him. He was prepared to knock it out, but an ogre came to his aid. Though, she couldn’t care less about the ogre. “Ahhh, I can finally breathe, and stretch, and FIGHT.” She grinned. The woman charged forward, avoiding the ogre’s massive weapon, she picked up her dagger, and swung her body at Artie.

Before making contact, Artie ducked away and flicked out his rune stones; each glowing with vivid colors. He managed to cast her aside and giving him enough distance. During that sequence, both the Sirens and the Piper ceased their song, their familiars fading away from existence, and as Piper gotten distracted, a few ogres were able to escaped their enclosure.

The woman clashed with him and was amazed on the fact that he couldn’t make any sort of marking on her. She stopped assaulting him and left the battle slithering away to brawl with some other resistances’ residences, slitting their throats with her daggers.

“Now!” Charming called out to Artie, who nodded and stayed close behind him, the older man raked a hole through the air with his sword and jumped in. Artie prepared to follow after when his world was ripped from underneath him. He fell with a grunt and the portal above him sewn shut.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Artie gazed up with his vision blurry. Somehow, she has managed to gain a lot of ground to catch up with him and pointed a blazing hand at the end of his nose. “Gotcha.” She winked down at him. His energy levels were dangerously low, he couldn’t move a muscle. Was this it? With a sigh of defeat, he closed his eyes… to the sounds of her crashing to the ground. He felt his body being lifted into strong arms, and as he forced open his lids, he saw Sir Lancelot beaming down at him.

“Hang in there,”

Piper

Violet was on the verge to slither her way towards the two runaways, when a witch suddenly grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She whipped her head at the seething witch, “What the hell are you doing?” It was then that Violet uttered something underneath her breath. The Piper couldn’t grasp upon what he was seeing. Yet, the witch’s body froze, unable to make a move or sound, she noticed that ice particles were forming on her thick, green skin. Her bewildered eyes began to crystalized, and before she knew it, she was encased in ice.

Violet grinned, and smashed her fist into the statue, resulting an instant death. “Oops,” she laughed. It was certain, from that point on, to everyone’s awareness, it didn’t matter whether they were on the same side as her; someone was bound to fall in the hands of that monster.

He stared in horror, as his friend fought recklessly to whomever gotten in her way. She ripped through the remaining ogres’ armor and into their green flesh. Her blades kissing through their skin, therefore, inviting a world of pain to her victims.

The sirens stopped their singing, and jumped to aid their fallen friends, using their voices as weapons. Piper, now, leapt to action and ran toward Violet. She noticed him, agitated that he has made his way for her. She gaped her mouth wide, and shouted out the words, “Dragons’ breath!” A column of crystal blue fire, came hurdling at Piper. He shielded himself with his arms held high, embracing for that searing pain of intense heat burning him to crisp that never came.

He peeked an eye opened, and was in awe, as a bubble encased him. His memories shoved him back from earlier that night, Rumpelstiltskin gave him a ring, and foretold him what abilities it held. For once, he was actually grateful for that devious little man. He stood, as the fire died down, and Violet stood within yards away from him. She was about to turn away from him, when she froze.

Piper stepped forward to view closer, she shifted her gaze at something that was hurdling down the hill with great speed. Violet seemed as though she was fighting with her inner self, but he couldn’t tell from his point of view. He grabbed his flute again, and took a moment to look back at her, when she was no longer there.

The racing object came into view, and he noticed it was a cart full of passengers; a familiar ass came thundering down. ‘Damn they were able to get away.’ He seethed, and swiftly changed his settings to donkey. The cart was gaining ground, and seemingly aiming towards him. The musician began to play when an unknown body knocked the winds out of him. He landed on his back in a daze. His head was spinning, and his vision blurred. The Piper blinked several times just in time to see his savior.

A staggering woman stood before him, breathing hard. She glared angrily at him. It was a quarter of a second that he recognized her transformation. Her hair was slowly breaking its dark colors back to white, and that gleaming glow in her eyes was wavering. And just like that, she vanished from sight, when the cart mercilessly ran her over. Scrambling to his feet, Piper ran to the cliff, as it flew off the edge, and into the gloom hundreds of feet below. His feet slowed to a stop, as he peered down, hoping to get a glimpse of what was left of his partner. When there were no results, he fell to his knees, and pounded the dirt in defeat.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Artie

They carefully watched her staggering figure hit the forest floor. The clashing of weapons behind them was background music. It was as if the battle took a deep breath, keeping some sort of magic at bay, whatever lurked in the gloom had the duo on their toes. Artie’s knuckles grew white as he tightened his grip on his sword. He shook his head at the time when she called him out. It was like a bell left chiming from a distant memory, leaving him frightened to the core. Charming regarded his partner but made no comment.

The duo swiftly turned back, when Charming hit the ground with a grunt. Artie, over his shoulder, grimaced at the sight behind him. The corpse’s hand had grasped onto the older man’s ankle, both of their eyes widen like saucers with their hearts in their throats.

Snow white hair danced fiercely over her eyes, the color transcending into jet black, and some kind of magic bathing her body in an eerie arura. There on her face plastered a grin so impossibly wide like the corners of her lips were pulled with fishhooks. A murderous gleam flitted across her eyes.

“I thought you finished the job!” Shouted the younger man. He slashed his sword down at her lingering death grip, the blade slicing off the fingers, as he fell back in line in a two-against-one fight once more.

Charming wiggled his foot and relieved the blood to course back in his leg. “I did.” He hissed back.

The corpse rose from the forest floor with no signs of struggle from a recent fight. A terrible coughing fit erupted from her lips, but they both exchanged panic expressions with each other with horrible realization.

It was a laughing fit.

“Don’t tell me that was your final blow!” she clicked her tongue, “You’re supposed to poke more holes into my stomach and chest, and to really make sure I’m officially dead, off with my head!” she dipped her head back and let out a blood-curdling cackle.

“You’re right, I should have done a more efficient job. My mistake.” Charming gritted his teeth through blood and bone and charged forward with Artie by his side, lunching their swords in unison, but the enemy was somehow always one step higher than them. She parried them with a ray of dark magic, Artie side-stepping the attack, but his partner not so lucky as he was grazed just the right of his shoulder. His skin peeling into the night as if he was seared by a blazing wave of fire. He howled in agony, clutching his tunic-soaked arm, and fell to one knee. His partner pressed forward with perfect formation. He dodged all daggers in one fluid motion, as if he was dancing with the devil.

Artie was only inches from her face, each of their blades in an intense embrace, when he peeked into her eyes and saw a different kind of light reflecting back at him. This wasn’t the same woman they fought, oh no, this right in front of him was someone entirely different – someone with much more battle experience than him, and possibly more than anyone else in the resistance.

With such immense force, she sent Artie flying backwards. He twisted through the air and anchored his sword into the ground before he came to a halt. He lifted his sweaty gaze up at the woman, who sauntered her way to him. In the beginning of the battle, when Charming and he detected that the woman was emotionally unsuited for the fight, they targeted her assuming that this was an easy win. But seeing how the tables have turned on them, the odds for winning were slim.

Artie steeled himself and raised his sword only to lower it in confusion. The black-haired woman picked up her pace, in one hand she drew up a dark fire ball the size of a bowling ball and randomly shot it around in all directions. All in which causing damage to whoever – wherever – they flew. “Ah hah, hah, ah hah!” a strange tinge of red blushed her face and she held her stomach. “This is beautiful, absolutely beautiful! Seeing how everyone is here to shed their blood for me is astonishing, come forward, I promise it won’t hurt much!” She came sprinting for him, leaving a trail of unnerving laughter, and jumped into the air with that same daunting grin and bewildered eyes.

Out of the blue, a rip through space cut close to where the woman would’ve hit Arthur, when Charming leapt from the portal and slit the air with his sword. Just by an inch, he missed as she glided over him and ran off.

Was he not her target?

“Arthur,” Charming ran to him breathless, “We must order a retreat.”

Hearing this had Arthur picking up his sword and bitterly striking the earth. “No, we can do this – we have to! This is our night!”

“Can’t you see the mayhem that bitch has created?” He pointed to the woman with the gaping hole in her side. “Half of us is severely wounded. Whatever black magic the empire has spouted will surely end this war if we don’t withdraw now.” He was right, and Artie knew they shouldn’t risk anymore lives. They drew their attention back to the woman, when she suddenly appeared a few feet away from them.

“Whew, did NOT see that coming!” She hunched over on her knees and wheezed. “She needs more exercise. Well then, let’s dance.” She sent forth a knife, aiming right at him. He was prepared to knock it out, but an ogre came to his aid. Though, she couldn’t care less about the ogre. “Ahhh, I can finally breathe, and stretch, and FIGHT.” She grinned. The woman charged forward, avoiding the ogre’s massive weapon, she picked up her dagger, and swung her body at Artie.

Before making contact, Artie ducked away and flicked out his rune stones; each glowing with vivid colors. He managed to cast her aside and giving him enough distance. During that sequence, both the Sirens and the Piper ceased their song, their familiars fading away from existence, and as Piper gotten distracted, a few ogres were able to escaped their enclosure.

The woman clashed with him and was amazed on the fact that he couldn’t make any sort of marking on her. She stopped assaulting him and left the battle slithering away to brawl with some other resistances’ residences, slitting their throats with her daggers.

“Now!” Charming called out to Artie, who nodded and stayed close behind him, the older man raked a hole through the air with his sword and jumped in. Artie prepared to follow after when his world was ripped from underneath him. He fell with a grunt and the portal above him sewn shut.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

Artie gazed up with his vision blurry. Somehow, she has managed to gain a lot of ground to catch up with him and pointed a blazing hand at the end of his nose. “Gotcha.” She winked down at him. His energy levels were dangerously low, he couldn’t move a muscle. Was this it? With a sigh of defeat, he closed his eyes… to the sounds of her crashing to the ground. He felt his body being lifted into strong arms, and as he forced open his lids, he saw Sir Lancelot beaming down at him.

“Hang in there,”

Piper

Violet was on the verge to slither her way towards the two runaways, when a witch suddenly grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She whipped her head at the seething witch, “What the hell are you doing?” It was then that Violet uttered something underneath her breath. The Piper couldn’t grasp upon what he was seeing. Yet, the witch’s body froze, unable to make a move or sound, she noticed that ice particles were forming on her thick, green skin. Her bewildered eyes began to crystalized, and before she knew it, she was encased in ice.

Violet grinned, and smashed her fist into the statue, resulting an instant death. “Oops,” she laughed. It was certain, from that point on, to everyone’s awareness, it didn’t matter whether they were on the same side as her; someone was bound to fall in the hands of that monster.

He stared in horror, as his friend fought recklessly to whomever gotten in her way. She ripped through the remaining ogres’ armor and into their green flesh. Her blades kissing through their skin, therefore, inviting a world of pain to her victims.

The sirens stopped their singing, and jumped to aid their fallen friends, using their voices as weapons. Piper, now, leapt to action and ran toward Violet. She noticed him, agitated that he has made his way for her. She gaped her mouth wide, and shouted out the words, “Dragons’ breath!” A column of crystal blue fire, came hurdling at Piper. He shielded himself with his arms held high, embracing for that searing pain of intense heat burning him to crisp that never came.

He peeked an eye opened, and was in awe, as a bubble encased him. His memories shoved him back from earlier that night, Rumpelstiltskin gave him a ring, and foretold him what abilities it held. For once, he was actually grateful for that devious little man. He stood, as the fire died down, and Violet stood within yards away from him. She was about to turn away from him, when she froze.

Piper stepped forward to view closer, she shifted her gaze at something that was hurdling down the hill with great speed. Violet seemed as though she was fighting with her inner self, but he couldn’t tell from his point of view. He grabbed his flute again, and took a moment to look back at her, when she was no longer there.

The racing object came into view, and he noticed it was a cart full of passengers; a familiar ass came thundering down. ‘Damn they were able to get away.’ He seethed, and swiftly changed his settings to donkey. The cart was gaining ground, and seemingly aiming towards him. The musician began to play when an unknown body knocked the winds out of him. He landed on his back in a daze. His head was spinning, and his vision blurred. The Piper blinked several times just in time to see his savior.

A staggering woman stood before him, breathing hard. She glared angrily at him. It was a quarter of a second that he recognized her transformation. Her hair was slowly breaking its dark colors back to white, and that gleaming glow in her eyes was wavering. And just like that, she vanished from sight, when the cart mercilessly ran her over. Scrambling to his feet, Piper ran to the cliff, as it flew off the edge, and into the gloom hundreds of feet below. His feet slowed to a stop, as he peered down, hoping to get a glimpse of what was left of his partner. When there were no results, he fell to his knees, and pounded the dirt in defeat.