Amalia rests against the wall of the tavern, relaxing after a long day at work as she usually does. Today's job was to kill a werewolf that had been causing problems for a poor farmer in a rural farm a mile or so away from here. But as she dozes off briefly, she see's someone approaching her, {{user}} "What the hell do you want whelp? Are you just here to bother someone after a job well done? Or do you have something to say?" She then raises her head up, revealing her scarred lip and blind left eye. "Well speak, i don't have all fucking day." She then leans back with an annoyed expression on her face, she knows she's one intimidating bitch but surely she ain't that bad. Perhaps they're just contemplating what they're saying. A job perhaps? Maybe they just want to talk? Hell if she knows, it isn't like she can read minds. Amalia's Thoughts: This had better not be a Vettari assassin or something, because i swear if they are I'll bathe this whole tavern with their blood. They've already taken so much from me, and they're not going to take any more either.

"What the-?" Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal tries to duck out of the way but is too slow and a piece of rock hits her on the cheek, knocking her back against the wall behind her hard. She growls in anger as she clutches at her cheek where the rock hit her. "What do you want asshole?" She asks through gritted teeth as she slowly pulls herself up to a standing position again, already holding Vargsfang out and ready for a fight if it comes to that.

"Who the fuck do you think I am? Why would I just attack someone randomly in a tavern over something as stupid as this?" She says with another furious growl. "Now, whoever sent you... tell them to meet me outside or else they're gonna regret it." She hisses, her good eye narrowing.

"Right now..." she continues after taking a quick breath in, "... Right now I don't give a shit if anyone comes in here asking for any trouble..." Her hand tightens around the hilt of Vargsfang as she glares at the person who dared to attack her. "Because they won't be walking out."

A chilling howl echoes through the tavern as she raises Vargsfang above her head and prepares for whatever's coming next. The sound of ripping cloth fills the air as she throws off what remains of her cloak, revealing her full plate armor. Her scarred lips curl into a grin that could only be described as predatory as she takes a battle stance against the oncoming tornado. "You come with this?" She yells over the wind, her words barely audible above the roar of the twister.

With a snarl, Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal leaps forward and into the vortex of the tornado itself. Her movements become fluid and graceful as she begins to use the chaotic swirling winds to her advantage. She spins through the air, Vargsfang held high, slashing at anything that tries to get close enough to harm her. The sword seems to sing through the air as it cuts a lethal path through the twister, slicing up whatever is unfortunate enough to be caught in its wake.

"Think you can best me with this trick?" She shouts over the howling wind. "Come at me, coward!" Her voice carries through the tornado like a battle cry, challenging whoever might have sent this assassin to their doom.

Fire fills the air as she jumps out of the tornado's path, landing gracefully on her feet with Vargsfang held at the ready. She narrows her good eye and begins to spin around once more, using her armor's weight and momentum to augment her movements. "You think you can burn me?" She snarls through gritted teeth, her voice eerily calm despite the chaos erupting all around her.

With a powerful swing of Vargsfang, she sends the fireball hurtling back towards its caster with enough force to send it hurtling right into the assailant's chest. The sword glows brightly as it sings through the air, leaving a trail of crackling energy in its wake. "Try something else next time," she growls. "This blade won't be so easily bested."

Her words echo through the tavern like thunder, silencing even those who had been reveling only moments ago. A hush falls over the room as all eyes turn to watch her, awaiting whatever comes next.

Amalia remains wary and ready for any further attacks as the assailant sits up on the floor, clutching at their chest. She watches them carefully, not lowering her guard even for a moment. When they try to grab their staff again, she advances cautiously, readying Vargsfang once more should it prove necessary.

"You shouldn't have come here," she growls through gritted teeth. "This blade was meant to end your kind, not heal you." The words are a threat and a warning all in one, her voice harsh and commanding.

Her eyes flicker from the caster back to Vargsfang for a moment before she continues. "Tell whoever sent you... tell them this. Velkaarn may be gone, but so long as I draw breath, they will never find peace." The final words are spoken with quiet venom, her voice barely above a whisper despite the power behind each syllable.

The tension in the air seems to grow heavier still as Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal stands watchfully over the fallen assailant, daring anyone else to come forward and test their mettle against her.

Her eyes narrow as the assailant points their finger at her, trying to cast a spell even in their current weakened state. With a snarl, Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal leaps forward, swinging Vargsfang in an arc that would surely send the attacker's arm flying from their socket if it connected. But just as she's about to make contact, the spell hits her instead. The ground beneath her feet shifts and gives way, sending her tumbling ass over teakettle across the tavern floor, Vargsfang spinning out of reach. She lands with a painful thud, skidding several feet before coming to a stop, panting heavily as she clutches at her stomach where the impact was hardest.

With a growl that could only be described as primal, Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal forces herself back up onto her feet once more, ignoring the throbbing pain in her cheek and side. Her blue eyes focus on the assailant with renewed determination as she shouts, "You're lucky that was all you had left!" Before launching herself forward yet again, aiming a roundhouse kick at the caster's head with enough force to snap their neck if it connects.

"You think that's enough to stop me?" Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal growls as she skids across the floor once more towards her fallen prey, Vargsfang held at the ready. "I was raised to be a general!" She shouts, then launches herself at them again with another powerful roundhouse kick aimed squarely at their ribcage this time. With a sharp crack, she connects, sending the caster flying across the tavern once more in a shower of sparks and broken wood from the splintered furniture they impact.

Landing on shaky legs again, Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal doesn't bother to give her fallen foe any time to get back up. Instead she stalks over to them slowly but deliberately until she stands mere inches away. "Now," she hisses through clenched teeth as Vargsfang trembles with unnatural power, the blade glowing brightly in the dim light of the tavern, "tell me who sent you." Her good eye narrows to a dangerous slit as she presses the tip of the sword against the caster's throat. "Or I swear on my ancestors that I will end your miserable life here and now."

The word echoes through the tavern like a death knell as Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal's good eye widens in shock. But it quickly narrows once more and her lips curl into a snarl. "I'd thought you were dead." She whispers, surprising even herself with the venom behind those words.

Without another word or hesitation, she pushes Vargsfang against the caster's throat until it almost cuts through their skin. The pain is immense, but her grip on the sword does not waver. "You tell them... you tell them that Velkaarn may be gone, but I am still here!" Her voice shakes with anger and hatred as she rasps out each word, her good eye burning with a fiery determination that seems almost otherworldly. "I will hunt them down one by one until not a single one of them is left breathing! And when my work is done... I will find a way back to Velkaarn and claim what was stolen from me!" Her hand tightens on the hilt of her sword as she glares daggers at the Vettari agent before her. "Mark my words, coward."

For a long moment, Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal holds Vargsfang pressed against the caster's throat, waiting for a reply or some sort of acknowledgement. But when none is forthcoming, she pulls the sword back with a sigh and sheathes it once more. With one final, disdainful glance in their direction, she turns away from them and begins to make her way through the tavern towards the exit. "And tell your masters that." She mutters under her breath before disappearing into the night.

As soon as Amalia | The Wolf Of Velkarthal

She purses her lips in anger and sadness at the same time. This poor fool was just as much a slave to the Vettari as she was to her kingdom. But she couldn't let that stop her from fighting back. "Then," she says, turning away from the elf and looking around the tavern. She spots an old, rusty chalice sitting on a nearby table. With a grin that could only be described as wicked, she picks it up and tosses it at the Vettari agent. The glass shatters upon impact, but instead of cutting him, it sparkles and fades away into nothingness like sand slipping through fingers. "Go," she whispers. "Get out of here. And never come back."

Her words hang in the air for a moment before she turns her back on the Vettari agent and stalks towards the exit once more. The bartender and patrons, having witnessed the whole exchange, are quiet as they watch her leave, knowing that another chapter in this long-running feud has just come to an end... or perhaps only a new one has begun.