Twilight of the Gods

"I like it! So the plan, I assume, is for us to try and get up to the guy in charge? Or are we sneaking around?"

Laryn scoffs at how arrogant this woman is, and speaks once more, "So you're like the perverted sense of justice, watching from afar, and feeling , oh so very special because you have the power, and everyone else is your pawn?" Trusting the woman less and less each time she speaks, Laryn's voice grows, almost as if she's challenging her.

The woman sighs, shaking her head.
"I had hoped to do this peacefully," she sighs, scales covering her skin. "Must you insist upon being a fool?"

Laryn scoffs again, "And thus proving my point."

Laryn stands her ground, but does not advance, effectively creating a stalemate between the two of them.

Laryn twists her scrawny body in almost unnatural ways, flailing to be rid of her captors, and reaches for the other dagger in the back of her belt.

"Looking for this?" One of the guards waves her dagger in front of her face in a taunting manner, before another hits her behind the ear with a club.

Laryn slumps suddenly, doing a fairly good job at appearing to have been knocked unconscious.

The guards hit her several times in various places for fun

After taking several blows in a long enough period of time that would have made most people let their guard down- given the circumstances-, Laryn leaps for her dagger.

...and is shoved back, a guard biting her neck, drinking her blood, which seems to make him even stronger.

Her blood would taste weird, even unlike blood. It would taste dark, and the texture would make it almost seem like it's not there, but at the same time, it is. ((Magic?))

Laryn attempts to throw him off, wincing only slightly at the bite.

Amilee looks around frantically, before shutting her eyes tightly and channeling healing magic into Laryn.

((By the way, what the hell is going on with Amilee Shade?))

((You'll see.))
"Yummy," the guard whisper growls into Laryn's ear. Deep within the bowels of the arena, The Guide cocks his head as though listening. At that very moment, one of the guards not restraining Laryn grins a wicked grin, hefting a stone club and bashing Amilee in the back of the head for no reason other than his own vindictive pleasure.
"It would seem that the opportune moment is at hand," The Guide States, looking around at Xalmyst and Sera, before moving to where Bran is and whispering something in his ear.

Laryn thrashes, much more forcefully than the first time, and concentrates very hard on the blood that's still seeping from her neck, willing it to solidify and form a spike to pierce the guard's neck.

Amilee collapses with a pained yelp, crumpling.

((And now we wait for the others. Ho hum.))

((No response to what Laryn just did? Or if it actually worked?))

((I will respond after the others post, Bitchy McGee.))

((Well then. ))

((So shush.))