One last painful caress (the end of Netheria Maya)

The winds whipped past her as she stood looking up at the ominous fortress of kragg upon the ridgetop, her mind set on her grim purpose.

"I guess its time" *a soft smile spreads over her features as she gives pause for all that she has done*

Slowly at first she begins to climb the slopes, the cold not giving her much trouble as her bloodline proves resilient against the chill. Soon she comes across her first target, a small patrol just beyond the gates of the halfway house, her lips curl into a wicked grin as her plan now shifts into a darker place.

"well my lady, I hope you will see this" *with those self spoken words she hammers the path with all her speed and might like a bolt of lightning she closes the distance in an instant*

The first strike hits home and even as her footsteps were covered but the howling wind the impact of her fist against the armoured figure rings out like a thunderclap, her years of training hardening her claws to an almost adamantine sharpness that made short work of the victims faceplate. Dropping them in an instant before she moves with intent upon the other members of the hapless patrol, the noise however did not go unnoticed as the halfway house erupts in activity.

"c'mon sweethearts, there's more where this came from"

The scene soon becomes a beautiful chaos as the taloned figure walks her grim path, hacking punching adn rending claws find armour weaknesses and soft flesh, aiming to wound disable and main rather than kill the screams of agony ring out into the night. One, two, three the skilled fighter does her work but the equally skilled soldiery begins to take its toll on her, her age starting to show as she takes a myriad of lesser wounds, and arrow to the shoulder, a slash across the thigh a stab to the gut.

"put her down you fools" *barking orders the ranking swordhand watches in disbelief as his squad is systematically taken apart*

"bring in more soldiers we need to end this quickly" *as his men are picked apart he makes an escape to the higher reaches, a call for re-enforcement*

Netheria has all but given up on living through this, her mind races with eevrything she has done, everyone she has known, each face and action forcing her onwards o prove it was not all a waste, to show she was not lacking. Her mind in a hase lending her strength as she fails to register the time passing, the feeling of bloodshed and chaos boiling in her blood.

"AHAHAHAHAHAAA this all you got boys, no wonder you got beaten by unrully peasants and overzealous idiots" *her laughter ringing out as the re-enforcements finally reach her*

The trail of wounded, mangled bodies lays behind and around her, her breath raspy as her fatigue kicks in "not now not yet, more, more, MORE", the teifling hears words, orders, suggestions, demands. All fall on deafened ears as she has made up her mind, no mercy no remorse, no retreat, the conversation between them is short, her intent made known by teh bodies around her as the zhentarim prepare for the inevitable storm.

*again like lightning her body hammers the snow as she sprints into the group, kicks, swipes and elbows finding their mark, but these are not the same hapless patrollers, these are elite warriors and Netheria stands outnumbered 5:1. She fights with her skill, but skill alone is not enough, brought low in the bloody and short brawl.*

For a moment she lies still as the group gather talking over her, she takes a moment of quiet to understand her situation.

"I guess it was a waste afterall" *speaking in her head*

Slowly she finds the last of her strength pushing herself up for one final defiant stand, but her wounds have caught up with her, she has nothing left to fight with adn barely enough to stand, and it trully dawns on her. She hears the words but they are dull sounds, she see's the lips moving but no longer hears, coughing her words she slumps again mer thoughts now spoken openly as the end closes in.

"what a strange feeling to be both warm and cold......"

*looking to the sky she speaks the last words " oh davoren....where did it go.......wrong", with those words the fire in her eyes snuffs out, her wounds too much even for her honed constitution to handle.*

With that Netheria Maya, monk of the white rod of loviator ends her journey.

a few songs to sum up Neth:

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and of course a more light hearted one because regardless of what she was she fun.

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Having been one of those that quietly let her bleed out in the snow after taking her out, and as usual, doing most of the talking, the well recognized Black Fang of the Church of Bane left her body with the Black Knight of Loviatar, Nikita Alkaev. A gesture of what he could spare to such an enemy of the Tyranny, in a tribute to the Willing Whip. Though there is a certain stillness to the castle as the pyre on the mountainside behind Krag burns, the Temple of Bane is far less serene, with the dozens of the worst injured Zhentilar being treated and healed from their bout with Maya. Most assuredly, many of them will no doubt face disciplinary actions for failing to overcome a single woman, as soon as they have recovered. An ironic circle of pain.

((RIP Maya!))

(( that was an amazing end props to you ))

(( Thank you for letting us be apart of her end. Kudos to you!!))

thank you all for making it special, it deffinitely wouldnt have felt the same without you lot.

*bows in thanks*

A little late, but better late than never... Thank you for letting Nikita be part of this and for the brief bits of RP with another Loviatarran. That funeral pyre of Fire and Ice will burn a long time in her memory. Still trying to figure out just how to incorporate the Shard of Pure Pain and Maya's Wedding ring into her description.