
Lorielle's breathing had become rasped, her turquoise eyes darting about in confusion as the scene unfolded before her. Â She had no idea what Tobias was doing. Â Her lip curled exposing a strip of pearly whites as she quickly lost trust in everyone here. Â Her adrenaline was bubbling to a peak, survival instincts clouding her every sense.
Suddenly, a crate flew from the caravan and landed very close to her. Â One of her captor's looked shocked, then some strange recognition came across his face. Â Kieaira was still in the caravan, and he must have known.
While his eyes were no longer on her, and his weapon was nowhere near, something snapped in Lorielle's eyes. Â Her face curled into a feral snarl as she kicked up her feet, forcing all of her weight into her back. Â An intense pain shot through her shoulders, her arms still pinned by the man's arms. Â Her body rolled as she forced the weight from her back to her legs, throwing them with full force downward to join with the man's groin.
She was released suddenly, falling unceremoniously forward. Â She quickly picked herself up, running forward blindly while reaching back for her staff. Â She turned on her heel, armed and ready for any attempt to be captured again. Â She was breathing hard, her face twisted in extreme hatred. Â If either of them were to come for her, she would break every bone in their face with the thick ball of her staff.
But now they knew where Kieaira was. Â Lorielle changed her stance, ready to run to the caravan and cut the men off should they try and take her in Lorielle's place. Â She wished someone in their troupe would have been better in combat. Â She could fight well enough, but she could not take on two large men on her own. Â The only fighter they had was currently weaponless on the ground before the two bandits. Â Where in Eorzea was their driver?
Suddenly, a crate flew from the caravan and landed very close to her. Â One of her captor's looked shocked, then some strange recognition came across his face. Â Kieaira was still in the caravan, and he must have known.
While his eyes were no longer on her, and his weapon was nowhere near, something snapped in Lorielle's eyes. Â Her face curled into a feral snarl as she kicked up her feet, forcing all of her weight into her back. Â An intense pain shot through her shoulders, her arms still pinned by the man's arms. Â Her body rolled as she forced the weight from her back to her legs, throwing them with full force downward to join with the man's groin.
She was released suddenly, falling unceremoniously forward. Â She quickly picked herself up, running forward blindly while reaching back for her staff. Â She turned on her heel, armed and ready for any attempt to be captured again. Â She was breathing hard, her face twisted in extreme hatred. Â If either of them were to come for her, she would break every bone in their face with the thick ball of her staff.
But now they knew where Kieaira was. Â Lorielle changed her stance, ready to run to the caravan and cut the men off should they try and take her in Lorielle's place. Â She wished someone in their troupe would have been better in combat. Â She could fight well enough, but she could not take on two large men on her own. Â The only fighter they had was currently weaponless on the ground before the two bandits. Â Where in Eorzea was their driver?