The battle field was a torn up mess of chaos, even under a temporary truce. Pyromanders both Mind controlled and not wandered the marshes and the plantation fields- the mind controlled ones hissing angrily at everything that wasn’t one of their own. Across the war torn, burnt asunder landscape, the Traitor Kyiahlnah floated with her typical gravitas and whimsy, little disturbed by the massive torrent of rain falling from the heavens. One of the few natural storms the world would ever know of this magnitude.
The Battlemage known by the name River simply closed her eyes and counted raindrops. Her own insight gave her a look into the energy within that falling mass of rain. It was energy and magic she could use.
And so on the battlefield that would one day become the Town of River’s Spite, the woman opened her eyes and started to walk out of the hastily erected cover their side had made. With a smirk, she shed her over cloak- her braided hair swiped through the air thanks to the sudden motion.
Activated by the onslaught of rain, her armor-enchanted clothing shimmered with light as green and blue fabrics shifted into a metallic hue and lines of enchantment began to glow brightly as she channel the magicka through them and into the black gloves that covered her arms from finger to shoulder.
Nearby, the Muse Zuzol looked up in surprise at the human woman walking boldly towards the storm-created river that had forced the temporary truce. “River?” She asked as the Battlemage passed by her.
The Lycan healer and her enchanter husband paused to watch as the natural magic of the world began to condense around River’s left hand, slowly gathering into an orb of pink, flame-like energy.
Even so far away across the fields of battle, Kyiahlnah’s bright, glowing eyes seemed to dim in terror as she began to figure out what the Battlemage was about to do.
“Mizar,” River nodded faintly at the swords-woman who had taken notice and stepped out of her tent along with her husband. “Forgive me for not consulting you first.”
As far apart on the field as they were, the long haired woman nodded in forgiveness.
And then with a smirk, Battlemage River looked across the field at Kyiahlnah, that traitorous witch, and raised her clenched fist, surrounded with magic.
The lines of power grew flat on her armor as all available resources went into this one spell…
“EAT WATER, YOU SELF INDULGENT CHILD!!!”
And then a wall of water blocked Kyiahlnah’s sight of the Battlemage, but only for a moment as the wall took off from the ground and then arched downwards towards her fire-born army like the oncoming onslaught of a tsunami in the middle of a hurricane.