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Snippet #2392586

located in Ley, a part of Rift, one of the many universes on RPG.


A small village on the border between Gar and Akhar.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Flynn Rowe Character Portrait: Kai Silverwood Character Portrait: Iridian Valka Character Portrait: Cadbury Roverfield Character Portrait: Phile Mortimer
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The moment her fingers brushed against Flynn's temple, she was a ghost in another's body, a visiting entity touring another's land, observing with wide-eyes but reserved with her touch. To the casual observer the only magic in the room were confined to the tips of her fingers but any learned mage would know that the ethereal glow was but an indicator. Magic flowed below the surface, through invisible channels where mana roared to life like a river overflowed.

And roar did it. Upon submerging her mind's eye within Flynn, Phile was immediately overwhelmed by the mana potential the man had. A pool so wide and so deep she failed to perceive any boundary; with a mana pool like that Phile could resurrect an entire army twice over. In theory at least.

Her body felt the eyes of her companions on her body and heard scuffling dulled by the thick walls of the abbey but gave no physical response. She dove deeper, the light at her fingertips dancing up to her wrist, carving up an intricate pattern.

Flynn's body was unlike anything Phile had encountered before. She had treated men and women, young and old, fit and weak, magical and muggle, but none had such foreign feeling. It was if Flynn wasn't human, almost. Phile stored that bit away for later; she was getting side-tracked. While it wasn't usual that Phile forced another to tell their history by sheer force, it was exactly what they asked her to do.

As by her word, Phile proceeded to do a physical check-up. The bumps and bruises across his body did spell a story of a short fall but nothing was indicative of a major head trauma. Damn.

Phile withdrew her fingers from Flynn's temple but the glowing figures that have, at this point, crawled up her arms, didn't fade. All for the better.

For the second time this morning her name was called with great urgency. She had intended to inform Flynn of the results of the examination but her attentions turned rapidly toward the bloodied figure standing before the abbey doorway. Her own blood rushed through her ears and suddenly it was as if she were trodding through mud. The words "attack," "enemy," and "raze," reached her ears. Numbly she crossed the distance between herself and Kai, barely acknowledging the instructions given by Flynn and Iridian.

She took a shuddering breath, intending to clear her head but only filling it with the sharp scent of blood. Magic was still actively running through her palms and for that she was grateful. Ducking under, Phile tossed the arm on Kai's uninjured side over her slim shoulder and pressed one hand into his wound. There would be pain from the touch before the magic could numb and start the healing process, she braced herself for resulting retaliation.

"Mr. Ichabod," the lanky trader's slip-up was not lost on Phile but there were much more pressing matters, "The central chambers are by far the most fortified portions of this abbey but," her eyes strayed to the trickle of villagers that stumbled through the gateway; her stomach dropped. "But...I'm afraid that this abbey was not built for war. I...I," she couldn't find the reassuring words expected of a priestess.

Urging more mana towards healing Kai, Phile lead the way towards the abbey's inner walls.