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Week of April 6-12, 1987
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Posts: 2317
Member Since: 01/27/05
Jul 11 08 6:44 AM
Ketchup
Evasion had always been her stronger point, far more than hands-on duelling. In a fair duel, one that involved actually hexing one another face to face, Alannah may not have fared so well. In her experience, the easiest defence, if one was not good at conjuring a good offensive stance, was to confuse, perplex or if possible just evade entirely. Wolfe of course made this relatively difficult, his openly confrontational and aggressive stance forcing her out into battle. She did what was instinctive, build a wall and then run for it, only doubling back because she had to get those ingredients.
"Bloody bitch!"
She didn't waste her time cringing, though the alarmed thought crossed her mind - does he know it's me!? - as she blaste two Stunners in his direction. The first missed, the second, though on its mark, did not appear to have been quick enough on her part. She didn't see the hex coming, didn't raise a shield and found herself blasted backwards. Something very solid hit her, or perhaps she hit it, depending on how one looked at it. Certainly since the very solid thing remained very solid and did not break, while she fell to the ground in a crumpled sort of heap, everything from the back of her head to her knees feeling as though all the bones were rattled and about to crumble, it was more suitable to say that the solid thing in question had successfully rendered more damage to her than she to it. As it turned out to be, reliably enough, an oak tree, this was not very surprising.
No further hexes came her way, though she stayed still for a few moments, getting her breathing in order and trying to work out what she'd broken. Everything hurt, the faint scent of coppery blood meeting her nostrils but with no evident source. Her hand was clasped firmly around her wand, the other one clenched into a fist that she made no move to open as she stood, staring into the darkness. There were no sounds. Slowly, she moved behind the tree and lifted the hex. A fallen form lay across the street. Going over and checking he hadn't hit his head on something and died on the way down would have been her first choice of things to do, but it seemed both unlikely that he had done so and that he would not wake. "Sorry," she whispered, but stood there staring there a while longer, unable to move.
The choice was taken out of her hands the next moment as the door to Tremlyn's house opened and he stepped out, armed with his wand. Hexing him didn't take too much effort, for he was distracted by Wolfe. As this second form crumpled, she Apparated to the front door, moving swiftly to take down any remaining wards. Without looking back, she limped uneasily into the house.
Moving as little as she could, she looked around. It was an average enough house, with nothing in it that would possibly require the twenty wards all over the village. But the glow from under the cellardoor drew her, cringing at the staircase, into the hot room where something green bubbled cheerlessly in a cauldron. Grateful that he labelled his ingredients like any sensible man would, she picked up a small pouch, measuring one Oz of Imp Dung and depositing the foul smelling substance in her pocket. Unicorn's blood was harder to find, inside a locked and warded cupboard which tried to attack her throat. But though Alannah was no Potionsmaker, she was, it seemed, an accomplished, practiced thief. She drained the blood of the unicorn into a small vial, pocketing this as well. Then she stood in the workshop, eyeing it for other ingredients. But that was all she could seemingly find.
Then, with the crack! of Apparation and not a single look towards the door, she twisted and vanished.
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