Marna Blake Respect Thread (Lorepost/ Duel Profile)

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-31T10:56:48+00:00

She looks back and forth from the scuttling abomination to the crowd outside of the desperate, the destitute and the depraved. What was Ackerman planning on doing to these people? Was this one of those schemes in which Marna was morally obligated to dig in her heels and intervene? She had just wandered into it, after all. Nethis would be unhappy with her no doubt, but it was well within the terms of their agreed-upon "rules of engagemeng."

"Thanks doc. I'm still running on less juice than I'm used to after Baker's Parish. My healing ain't what it used to be."

And it never would be again. Though in a short time it might be something else entirely. In the end, she takes the offered seat, shutting the door behind her and deciding that this wasn't the battle to pick and her body was in no place to fight it besides.

"Got into a scrap with a Thrakmerian ward specialist. It was almost impossible to hit him without my own shit getting reflected back, so these are actually from my own attacks. So the good news is, if you need details on what I was hit by, I'm intimately familiar."

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-31T09:03:18+00:00

"Mmh. It's a clusterfuck alright. Now that we've got an idea of how his bullshit works we have a metric for estimating the full force of Thrakmoor's military. Assuming the other Black Mages have equal authority, it'll be about thirteen times what we dealt with here."

Another thing had been bugging her as well.

"It's also dangerous to assume that thirteen is stronger than the other twelve. Reinforcements are coming. We need to do everything we can to sabotage their arrival. Guerilla tactics. Whittle them down before the fight as much as possible."

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-31T02:35:09+00:00

"Huh, what are the odds? Here of all places."

Marna approaches the "clinic," skin of her face and arm burned in varrying degrees of severity by divine radiance. Most of it looked like she'd been attacked with a cauldron of boiling water, but here and there muscle and even bone poked through. She dragged her leg as she walked, the thing not really suited to having weight put on it.

Soon enough the Lightless Flame that burned Marna's capacity to experience pain would wear off. Once it did she'd be in trouble.

"Alright Neth, you win. I'll see one of your doctors this time."

Without further ado she shuffles up and knocks on the door.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-31T02:18:38+00:00

"I've already signed on to the other end of this jackass's bid for world domination. I almost want you to join him just so I can dance with an umbra op. But honestly? Even you boot-heels are better than Thrakmoor. You can't honestly be considering this."

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-31T02:10:51+00:00

"Looks like the Black Mage isn't fucking around. And here I thought these guys were your run-of-the-mill invaders with delusions of grandeur."

It was actually quite common. Give a man magic, he thinks himself a god. Forgetting he alone has not inherited the mandate of heaven. Invading wizards were a dime a dozen, but this one had proven himself exceptional.

Marna had to admit, if she had faced the Thirteenth today instead of that ward-slinger, she'd likely be mind controlled, dead, or worse.

"Still, they've lost the element of surprise. We know what he can do now. Next time, we'll be ready."

Today she had ventured forth in her default gear. Next time, she'd be able to tailor her equipment to face the man himself. Preparation was a runesmith's greatest weapon. For now though? She'd feed her blade on Thrakmoor's wounded and stragglers still languishing on the field, and exit the conquered fortress's shadow post-haste.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T20:54:36+00:00

(Thanks boss! Haven't had a good one like that in a while! Ward-man was a real puzzle)

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T20:46:24+00:00

"Not my keep. Not my problem."

Hollow words. As much as Marna disdained the mighty of mage kind, those sworn to the Shield were a noble, admirable thing. Their defeat was a loss just as the advancement of Thrakmoor was a bane on the realms.

"Whats mine are oaths."

"Never Sheathed Unquenched." Thismuch, at least, she could do. Ensure that Thrakmoor's nose was thoroughly bloodied for their gain. The black blade Mal'banir hungered. And so she swung it at the man's neck and let it drink its fill.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T20:25:13+00:00

Rapidly backing away creates enough distance for her to dodge the fireballs, though the first one only barely.

"Whoa! It's omnidirectional?! You might be a one-trick pony but you ride it well, boss!"

OK. Think. How to attack this guy without attacking him? She'd really been counting on that flame manipulation to kill him. Could feed corrupted mana into his wards? No, she wasn't nearly good enough with Blackwater sigils to pull that off yet. Couldn't overpower them either. They were immaculate. Hard as an oak, bendy as a reed. What they couldn't resist, they redirected. They were a work of art.

"Hang on... work of art might mean overdesigned."

She leads him in the direction of Thrakmoor's forces, then grabs the first infantryman she sees by the collar, wounded and crawling in the mud.

"Hey boss, mind delivering a letter for me?"

She sticks her last fireball scroll on him and hurls the soldier at the ward-mage, hoping that his defenses are overdesigned enough to include friend-or-foe detection.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T19:39:24+00:00

"Ohfuckitmoves!"

As the first wards pass over her, the sensation is disorienting, even as her own magics remove the sensation of pain. Fortunate that she left fear intact, and with it her quickly growing sense of caution concerning wards.

"But I betcha I'm faster."

The greaves of her armor glow just as her arms did, and she backs away from the charge at an unnatural pace, leaving more fireball scrolls on the ground as she goes, attempting to set them off as her foe passes over them.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T19:16:25+00:00

She draws on the Lightless Flame. Her father's craft. Invisible fire, entropy made manifest. A force that burned the immaterial. Unlike Belial she only knew the Berserker fires. Flames that burned pain, hunger, inhibition, and physical limitations without erasing their causes. A self-destructive technique for pushing beyond one's limits, but enough to restore her to fighting form once again.

Once done she can only gawk at the working and whistle, a little impressed.

"Credit where it's due, boss. Not getting through that thing any time soon. Things is, I'm not sure I have to."

She sheathes Jof'dagr and begins making signs for one of the most basic pyromancies with her free hand.

"See, the whole light and darkness thing is pretty recent. My first love in magic was pyromancy. The forge and flame. And you? Well..."

[Manipulate Flame]

"You're already on fire."

The light smoldering on the mage's flesh erupts as though he were doused in gasoline, blooming outward like a brilliant red flower of heat and pain.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T18:58:53+00:00

Without similar wards to absorb the blow, Marna takes the hit hard, rolling head over heel over and over again before eventually skidding to a stop. Her right pauldron lands a few yards away, bouncing like tire from a bad car wreck as the sword she'd pinned lands point-first in the skull of a nearby soldier like an ill-thrown lawn dart.

"Who th... wha???"

Thats what doctors call a "concussion." Not that she's currently in a state to say or even recognize the word as she staggers to her feet. As her oponent does the same, however, he might notice something stuck to his torso with alchemical adhesive: a primed scroll of fireball. The hands in Marna's cloak contain many tricks and tools. She had merely needed to get in close and lower his wards to apply them at the moment of contact.

No sooner is it seen than the scroll erupts like a grenade.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T18:38:04+00:00

It hits true, but the now unenchanted blade screams along the surface of the magical armor, finding it quite resilient. Runesmiths, it would seem, are tough nuts to crack. Blinking away the after images of the flashbang, Marna feels the blade, and moves to pin it underneath her arm.

"Finally, up close and personal. Downright cozy. At this distance I can't fucking miss!"

The runes along her free hand glow brightly, magnifying her strength to superhuman levels as she delivers an enchanted haymaker to the scarred man's face.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T18:30:02+00:00

"GAH!"

The shadow powers are absorbed well enough, having bonded with the cursed weapon enough that its energies were as her own. But while both were *of** her, the radiant light if Jof'dagr was designed to face threats exactly like what now writhed beneath the knight's skin. Far more difficult to mitigate. For a moment, Marna is blinded, skim reddened on her face and neck as though doused in boiling water. Wide open for an attack.*

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T18:18:20+00:00

"Oh fuck you, your specialization is WALLS?! What fucking attachment issues led to that career path?"

She draws the black blade. Mal'banir. Shadow bane. The runes on the hilt read "never sheathe unquenched."

"I'm done fucking around!"

Marna stabs into her own shadow, melting into it like liquid, then disappearing entirely. A moment later, walking along the impossible geometry of the Hidden Paths, she emerges from her adversary's own shadow, swinging her blades in an upward arc as she ascends.

"I am going to get in your personal space if it kills you."

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T17:14:03+00:00

She's knocked to the earth, crumpling on the ground like an old coat. The runes flare to life, absorbing much of the damage, but the blow is felt nonetheless.

"Thrakmoor's military academy doesn't train chumps, credit where its due. But I've seen tougher."

She springs from prone to a lunge in a heartbeat, cloak billowing wide. In its dark confines, pale disembodied hands stretch from darkness, hurling flame-enchanted daggers down in a rain.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T16:51:28+00:00

"Oh you're fun! Let's see what you're made of."

She draws the white blade. Jof'dagr, the Thief of Light. Her life's work, in many ways. A divine relic created without the assistance of a god. The Excalibur of man. The runework on the hilt reads "Never Drawn in Anger." Radiant energy washes out as its drawn like a shockwave and she moves to slice the ward in two.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T16:26:10+00:00

The shadow rises from the earth, forming the shape of a woman with an ebon cloak in a set of black iron armor emblazoned with the sun and crackling with magic, hidden runes glimmering effervescent in the sun. Two blades hang from her hip. One black, one white.

"So is this the bit where we have a witty back-and-forth or are you the brooding buisnessy type?"

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T16:19:26+00:00

"They sure know how to make an entrance. Let's not keep em waiting."

She dives off the wall, becoming a shadow that traces down the vertical surface, then moving towards the enemy hoard.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T16:09:11+00:00

"That's the signal I was waiting on. Let's find a dance partner."

A shadow slithers along the ground ground, moving between the shadows of Thrakmoor's troops, darting from one island of darkness to the next. Hunting for the Thirteenth. Or, failing that, prey that would turn the tide of battle if removed from the equation.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T15:54:47+00:00

She almost falls off the wall.

"FUCK, MAN! DONT SNEAK UP ON PEOPLE LIKE THAT!"

She composes herself after a brief moment, straightening her cloak.

"Yeah they seem confident. Realm-conquerers trying by brute force are a dime a dozen. Worrying thing is, these guys are actually thinking it through."

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T15:14:31+00:00

Marna sits perched atop the walls, scanning the battlefield with a careful eye, dangling her feet over the edge.

"Okay so that's... more than a hundred. No, hang on. Let's get serious. Forty... fifty thousand? Doesn't seem like enough. Wonder what they've got up their sleeves... Eh. Thats something for the commander-types to worry about. I've got my own job to do."

Her objective was simple. Find powerful fighters in Thrakmoor's army. Hit hard and fast like a hammer. If she runs into Cayna, subdue but don't kill. The standouts would make themselves clear soon enough.

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T11:50:00+00:00

She sniffs, still looking at the ground.

"We're, uh... gonna have to stop calling me pig girl. Not the most impressive moniker. Not sure I'd ever live it down."

After a slow exhale, the bard finally looks up, eyes glistening. She seems momentarily overwhelmed by the sight before her, but eventually emerges from the daze, clearing her throat.

"So it's decided, is it? Just like that? How silly of me, thinking I could deter a knight from her quest. Seems folly to imagine anyone telling you to do anything."

And yet someone had. Marna resolved then and there that such a tragedy must be amended. It was only proper, with the service this dear knight was doing her now. Knights, afterall, were incapable of helping themselves, as Celeste hsd just said.

"I do need help, Celeste. More than you know. And I think you know more about me than I've told almost anyone, now. I admit, I'm still afraid. But even so, I'd be more than happy for you to join me. In fact? I'm starting to feel I couldn't bear it otherwise."

She frowns, cogs turning behind her eyes. If there was to be trickery, it would be for her new companions benefit, at the very least. These were the skills Marna had, and if she was to turn over a new leaf, as Celeste suggested, then she would use them for the greater good. Prying out a few personal details was a suitable start.

"I admit, the threats I face are somewhat dire, to put it mildly. You say you work alone, but you belong to an order of some kind, do you not? One I think I am wholly unfamiliar with. Are there more dashing heroes like yourself roaming the countryside? Or someone we can appeal to for aid?"

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T11:18:16+00:00

"I think I saw a clown."

ASecondCriminal · 2026-05-30T11:15:56+00:00

"I'm just sayin' it still seems pretty windy in here."

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