[Mòrag offers no open acknowledgment, silence being her form of approval. Her hands shift slightly on the blade, just enough to move her to a more offensive stance as her katana cuts through the air in a complex feint that turns into a fierce kick laid right into what the Grimm probably calls a face.]
[Clearly. If they're going to stand a chance, it has to be instinctive.
Honestly, the only reason Lightning's doing half as well as she is is because of her experience as a l'Cie. Thinking of it as Thunder magic's made it easier, and the combat...well. You never really lose your instinct for that.
Even in the dark, she's got her one Grimm mostly handled. It's too big to do more than charge her, and she's too quick to get hit by something like this. Her blade cuts a wide gash in its side, sending it roaring into the trees, and as it wheels around she sends another blast of lightning at it. Stunned, reeling, it crashes into one of its fellows and they spin like bumper cars.
Sorry if she threw off your aim, Mòrag! At least those two are. Kind of busy right now?]
[By no standards, mind, is Mòrag doing poorly. She wields the fire as effectively as her blade, using both to clash and duel with the pair of Grimm she faces. Nor does she so much as twitch as that bolt cracks through and makes one of her foes bowl over; she's used to far more dramatic displays for her allies.]
[The moment the combat turns in her favor, she cuts through the one remaining Grimm with a slash that leaves blue-streaked flame in its week, then turns that motion into a sweeping arc that hurls another blast at the staggering pair.]
[The first target goes down with a howl that seems to shake the trees, collapsing in a scorched heap. Its fellows, not the type to care about when one of their own goes down, are too busy shaking off the shock to notice just how dead they are.
Mòrag's blast slams into one harder than the other, sending it sprawling. It's surviving friend doesn't survive much longer as Lightning bolts out of the trees, living up to her namesake and all but vanishing from sight as she leaps, coming down blade first into the creature's head. It can't even roar before it's dead, and the last one? Also dead. Soundless heaps on the forest floor, the light from Mòrag's flames playing with the shadows of their bodies. Lightning backflips off her foe and lands a ten point landing without even looking. She doesn't quite sheathe her sword, though. Better safe than sorry.]
Nice work. [A quick glance at her ally.] You hurt?
[Not particularly trusting these creatures, she aims the tip of her sword at them, unleashing a torrent of fire to engulf the bodies.]
Nothing worse than a scratch. [Katanas are, in Alrest, weapons intended to address foes' attacks by avoiding them, and so she had done the same here.] If you'll forgive the presumption, I take it you are experienced in both battle and the wielding of ether yourself?
[That's one way to be sure something's dead. It's hard to read Lightning's expression in the firelight, and for a second there's only the sound of her sheathing her blade once more.
Ether, Semblance, Magic. Three words for what's--probably--the same thing. Is she experienced? That's one way to put it.]
I was a soldier. We were trained against monsters. [Her head turns to the smoldering remains.] This was just another day on the job.
[Mòrag nods, an empathetic smile on her face.] I wish I could say the same. My position involved more politics. In that respect, simply fighting monsters will be a vacation. Even if I am relying on my own power here.
[Fighting monsters is a vacation? That's not at all hard to believe; better to be out there actually making a difference than dealing with politics or paperwork.
That was an odd comment, though. Relying on her own power? Wouldn't she have done that already?]
You get used to it. [Mostly. A shake of her head, then:] We should get back to town before more of them show up.
I would rather check on other patrols, myself. Given the new arrivals, even groups may be having difficulty should they have encountered any others. [Unspoken is the belief that they, or at least Mòrag herself, should take responsibility for those weaker than she is.]
[She. Hopes. Because calling them patrols is one hell of a stretch; there's no organization here, no sense of unity. It's understandable why, but...it sure does make looking out for anyone a little harder.]
We can do a sweep for the stragglers on the way back in. [A glance at the Grimm.] Staying out here's just going to get us all picked off sooner or later.
Very true. [Nodding her agreement, she motions out the flames with a hand. Best not to let them burn in their absence, no matter how the Grimm might despise it.] My impression is that some others are trained already, but by no means all.
[Without the flames, they're plunged into moonlit darkness. Lightning has to blink a few times to let her eyes adjust, the fireposts back by the wall glimmering faintly in the distance.
It's going to be a long night.]
They brought kids here. [A snort.] I don't think trained was something they were thinking about.
Perhaps. Though in Alrest, age is not necessarily a determiner of training. Emperor Niall is only fourteen, yet he was a Driver as well. For a while I traveled with a boy who ought to be considered the most powerful Driver in Alrest, even compared to myself or Thunderbolt Zeke.
[The power of a Blade could make a huge difference in strength, of course, but only for a Driver skilled enough to partner with such a Blade. Rex would have been as weak as he was when they first though, power of the Aegis or not, had he failed to improve his skills swiftly.]
[Names and terms go over her head, cast aside as unimportant in the here and now. She knows better than to underestimate someone because of their age alone--Hope was a prime example of that--but it's rather something else that concerns her.]
That's your world. Do you really think every world is going to be the same? [She shakes her head.] Some of the people here don't even know how to hold a blade, and those are the younger ones. They shouldn't be here.
[Not only for their own sake, but the sake of the world. If all of reality is on the line, they need people who can at least fight right out the door. There's no time for proper training.]
Not all worlds will be the same. Doubtless some are. I don't particularly appreciate children on the battlefield, but I wasn't asked. [Though it bothers here that she wasn't, being used to having her own opinion weigh something in matters of Mor Ardain.] Whether we like it or not, we have to accept that the ability to use the power we've been given is a higher standard than training, or age. And watch out for those children as much as possible, of course.
[There's some small part of her that hates this with a vehement passion. It swells in her chest, lingering in the hollow where Odin once rested, and she shakes her head the faintest bit. No time, terrible circumstances, and all they've got is each other. A ramshackle bunch of would be world savers. Heh. The more things change. She opens her eyes again.]
We can't do that from here. I'm going back. [A tilt of her head, moonlight playing across her hair and face.] You staying or coming?
[Mòrag doesn't hate, not like that. Mòrag bides her time, does what needs to be done, and strikes when the moment comes -- full force and for the heart. As of now, she doesn't even see a true target. So she bides.]
Coming, of course. I admit I overestimated myself, and underestimated our foes. A mistake I won't make again.
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[Two is much better odds for her.]
Clearly I need more training in my Semblance.
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Honestly, the only reason Lightning's doing half as well as she is is because of her experience as a l'Cie. Thinking of it as Thunder magic's made it easier, and the combat...well. You never really lose your instinct for that.
Even in the dark, she's got her one Grimm mostly handled. It's too big to do more than charge her, and she's too quick to get hit by something like this. Her blade cuts a wide gash in its side, sending it roaring into the trees, and as it wheels around she sends another blast of lightning at it. Stunned, reeling, it crashes into one of its fellows and they spin like bumper cars.
Sorry if she threw off your aim, Mòrag! At least those two are. Kind of busy right now?]
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[The moment the combat turns in her favor, she cuts through the one remaining Grimm with a slash that leaves blue-streaked flame in its week, then turns that motion into a sweeping arc that hurls another blast at the staggering pair.]
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Mòrag's blast slams into one harder than the other, sending it sprawling. It's surviving friend doesn't survive much longer as Lightning bolts out of the trees, living up to her namesake and all but vanishing from sight as she leaps, coming down blade first into the creature's head. It can't even roar before it's dead, and the last one? Also dead. Soundless heaps on the forest floor, the light from Mòrag's flames playing with the shadows of their bodies. Lightning backflips off her foe and lands a ten point landing without even looking. She doesn't quite sheathe her sword, though. Better safe than sorry.]
Nice work. [A quick glance at her ally.] You hurt?
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Nothing worse than a scratch. [Katanas are, in Alrest, weapons intended to address foes' attacks by avoiding them, and so she had done the same here.] If you'll forgive the presumption, I take it you are experienced in both battle and the wielding of ether yourself?
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Ether, Semblance, Magic. Three words for what's--probably--the same thing. Is she experienced? That's one way to put it.]
I was a soldier. We were trained against monsters. [Her head turns to the smoldering remains.] This was just another day on the job.
[Well. Sort of.]
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That was an odd comment, though. Relying on her own power? Wouldn't she have done that already?]
You get used to it. [Mostly. A shake of her head, then:] We should get back to town before more of them show up.
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[She. Hopes. Because calling them patrols is one hell of a stretch; there's no organization here, no sense of unity. It's understandable why, but...it sure does make looking out for anyone a little harder.]
We can do a sweep for the stragglers on the way back in. [A glance at the Grimm.] Staying out here's just going to get us all picked off sooner or later.
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It's going to be a long night.]
They brought kids here. [A snort.] I don't think trained was something they were thinking about.
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[The power of a Blade could make a huge difference in strength, of course, but only for a Driver skilled enough to partner with such a Blade. Rex would have been as weak as he was when they first though, power of the Aegis or not, had he failed to improve his skills swiftly.]
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That's your world. Do you really think every world is going to be the same? [She shakes her head.] Some of the people here don't even know how to hold a blade, and those are the younger ones. They shouldn't be here.
[Not only for their own sake, but the sake of the world. If all of reality is on the line, they need people who can at least fight right out the door. There's no time for proper training.]
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[There's some small part of her that hates this with a vehement passion. It swells in her chest, lingering in the hollow where Odin once rested, and she shakes her head the faintest bit. No time, terrible circumstances, and all they've got is each other. A ramshackle bunch of would be world savers. Heh. The more things change. She opens her eyes again.]
We can't do that from here. I'm going back. [A tilt of her head, moonlight playing across her hair and face.] You staying or coming?
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Coming, of course. I admit I overestimated myself, and underestimated our foes. A mistake I won't make again.