RP: Crimson Sword

[Amanaduial the archer]

Ransom seemed distracted and caught in memories at the feel of the power pulse, but when he saw Elanor looking at him, he fastened his helmet back on, covering his face. Elanor didnt probe, forcing her mind not to pick up his thoughts. Everyone deserved their privacy. Anyway, the witches mind was working overtime anyway.
"How the heck do I beat a sorcerer of that strength?" She muttered to herself, as she hurried along the corridor in front of the other three. She thought of her skills in her head; mainly psychic skills, mind skils, illusions, sixth sense...
Yes but theyre just youre magic skills arent they? Its not your magic that he wants.
Elanor shuddered as she remembered how Calixto had looked at her in that room when theyd been brought out of their cells...

His fingers grasped her chin and he forced her head upwards. She went from one extreme to the other and stared deep into his eyes, the vivid green depths of hers meeting the dark blue of his. For a moment he stayed like this before leaning within an inch of her face and whispering to her.
"Your power is strong, I know this. But you will join with me and give me it, and belive me it shall be far better if you do this willingly!" He smiled, stroking the side of her face with his free hand briefly.
"You shall be my source of power."

Elanor closed her eyes and shook her head, remembering the touch of his smooth cold fingers on her face.
Like I said, its not your magic he wants...
Its you.
Pressing onwards, ignoring the thoughts in her head, Elanor moodily kicked open a door to her side, and ducked behing the frame with a gasp. Beyond the door was another room, beyond that the courtyard, beyond that...the sorcerer.