- Posting Speed
- Speed of Light
- Multiple posts per day
- Writing Levels
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Genres
- Sci-fi, modern, horror, a bit of dark romance stories.
"Actually, his mission was different to yours." A voice spoke up behind Azula and Vader, up the hill from where they stood. Standing above them with his hands behind his back, dressed in royal armor by the looks of him, with a sword holstered to his side. He had platinum blonde hair, and spoke with an English accent, looking only a few years older than Azula was. "He was meant to simply grab something from the keep, but his bloodlust got the better of him, and now someone else will have to do his job." He explained, making his way down the hill.Azula - Character Sheet
Triumph. Azula's being is full to the brim with triumph when she stands atop the corpse of the Dragon she had struck down from the sky. Her mouth stretched ear to ear; eyes wide; body shaking.
As a young child, she had heard the tales of Fire Nation warriors earning the honorific of 'The Dragon' over a dead Dragon and felt "That will be me, I will be Azula the Dragon!"
The dreams of that child were dashed unfairly when she learned that her uncle Iroh, already heir to the throne of the Fire Nation, had robbed her of that dream when he slew the last of the Dragons. That glory would never be her own. Time and her own family had denied her that destiny.
Yet a force beyond comprehension had brought her to stand here. Here with her boots on the skull of a Dragon with rain beating down and a city on fire. She had done it. The glory was hers at last. She stands in the moment she had resigned to be an impossible triumph, and a laugh bubbles up from her chest. Azula laughs at Time and Iroh for their mutual failure.
"Behold!" Azula stops laughing to declare and punch her fists into the air; making twin plumes of blue flame, which also causes plumes of steam as it vaporizes the rain.
"I. am. Azula the Dragon!" She declares and inhales deeply before exhaling a large plume of blue fire from her mouth. This city was now at her mercy. It was already on fire even with the storm conjured by the Dragonborn abating it somewhat.
She could burn it all down herself now. First she would dismiss these lowly warriors around her. Turn them to ash before the rest of the city was also ash.
"We have what we came for," Vader said placidly. "Retreat."
The words of Lord Vader break her out from this revelry. She snaps to him, sees her has the Dragonborn over his shoulder in spite of the visible damage he has sustained, and remembers their mission. They had not come to burn this city to the ground. Their true goal was in hand, and Lord Vader was more vulnerable now even for how powerful she knows he is.
She leaps after Vader, propelling herself with a quick jet of flames. The armored Lord is hit with a magical attack and avoids another before continuing with their retreat. Azula jets herself even further along with more fire to avoid the wall entirely until she lands on her feet outside. To cover their retreat as they go, Azula sets fire to the fields and structures around them until it appears they have made enough chaos to not be pursued.
The beings summoned by Ysmir give chase to them in a single-minded manner. As they clear the walls however, each is cut down swiftly. First at the legs to bring them down, then
They all reach the rally point.
Azula looks back at Whiterun, and is somewhat disappointed to see instead of the inferno she'd left behind, a cloud of smoldering smoke.
"Inventive and annoying." She comments before one of the cultists praises their success. Azula smirks as she looks around and does not see the golden warrior.
"Lautrec has failed." What made her victory sweeter was knowing how many others had lost.
"He did not." A cultist corrects her, earning him a glare from the former Princess.
"Then why don't we see him here with the Jarl's blood on his blade?" asks Azula.
"His mission was a distraction for yours. It would do well to remember when you are only one pawn in a grand strategy." The cultist stands his ground against the glare.
"How dare you…" She huffs "I am no pawn!" exclaims Azula with a sudden punch that spouts a fireball aimed right for the cultist. It hits him, sending him back into a large tree with the force behind it then setting him alight. Azula looks on with satisfaction as the man cries out in pain for a few seconds before he falls dead silent. She feels her muscles spasm, tire as the damage from the lightning strike and strain of the attack catches up to her, but she keeps herself standing out of sheer willpower.
"Please accept my apology on the matter, the man behind the planning of this believed it was information you didn't need to know." Once close enough the blonde bowed before Azula, even using the fire nation hand symbol. "I'm Ben. Ben Forbes. And it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, princess. And you, Lord Vader." He turned to give Vader a bow as well, different to Azula's to respect their different authorities.
Ben Forbes