Necron: The Legend Of Rezar DeathWind

Samira slid over the snow covered rooftop of a large bakery, holding her breath as the thick plumes of smoke from its chimney billowed past her face. She was already out of Sillomere, but escaping from the towns within its periphery was turning out to be a lot harder than she expected.

The snow elves had discovered her, or better yet it could be said they had discovered the informant she had planted within the city. Her fellow daughter of the eclipse had given up her life to get some valuable information to Samira, who in turn had to get the very same information to Rezar as it would be the key to saving Morte Bianca and turning this conflict with the snow elf to their won advantage.

But it seems she would have to fight for her life in order to get this information back home. Samira came to a stop, dislodging a handful of snow from the top of a roof as a glowing arrow flew past her face. She ducked under the wild swing of massive and ornately crafted elven halberd before turning around in in one swift motion and wrapping her hands around the neck of the elf that just attacked her.

She lifted his body up with ease and shifted it to the right, using the elf as a shield to intercept to three dozen arrows that came for her. The elf was quickly similar to a pin cushion in seconds as he let out a startled cry of pain that was quickly silenced as Samira clenched her hand around his neck, letting her claws pierce through his neck and retrieve his throat in the process. She spun hard and flung his body in the direction of a couple of archers in formation, his blood trailing and making a beautiful arc in the air.

[Blood Arte: Sanguine Forest]

She spread her right palm, and just before the elf's body would smash into his comrades; his blood spurted out of his neck like a grotesque flower. It spread like the blades of a grass, turning into spikes, that stabbed into the elf's closest to him. And as those elves were stabbed through, their blood burst out of their body to stab into the next and the next, causing a chain reaction of bloody murder that would not be forgotten from the memories of the snow elves present.

She turned not willing to look at the aftermath of her onslaught, leaping from roof to roof as the snow and darkness seemed all too willing to embrace her fleeing form. But escaping from a race that has embraced the cold and the snow, be it in night or day, would be nigh impossible if she wasn't what she was. But then again leaving unscathed could not be a guarantee. Samira leaped over what looked like a chapel, but at the peak of her leap a beam of light lanced through her chest, burning a hole through her body as she fell from the sky and landed in a heap in an explosion of snow and wood as she fell through a building.

90 meters away the snow elf princess dropped the silver elven bow in her hand, her eyes glowing a dull gold color that was rapidly fading into the dull sky blue snow elves were known for. She turned to the shocked elves besides her, turning slightly so that the wind could blow her silver hair off her face, showing her jaw dropping beauty to soldiers who never expected to get the chance to fight besides her.

"Go and get her corpse for me, I will take her fangs for a trophy and then piss in her skull and send it to her bloody king!" those words shook the soldiers who were around her, the image of the calm, beautiful and pristine princess they all had in their minds was shattered in that instant. Instead what stood close to them was a monster with a mouth filled with crass words and a heart filled with malice, it was extremely chilling.

But none the less a royal had spoken, seven of them scrambled to the location where spy they were chasing had fallen. The snow crunched under their feet as they drew closer, fog spilled out of the breaths as the cold seemed to get stronger and the temperature lower. There was an aura in the air, one that made the snow elves who were born in the embrace of ice and cold winds shiver in fear as goosebumps crawled up all over their skin.

The residents of the house Samira had fallen through had already ran out in panic and fright; after all, when a dead woman comes crashing through the roof of your house when you're having dinner with your family; the wise thing to do was to get the hell out of there.

It was the middle of the night, and the peripheral villages and towns around Sillomere weren't exactly advanced. Which was the stark difference between Morte Bianca and the rest of the powers in Bahrenburg. The territory grew as a whole rather than focusing resources on a particular city. Never the less it wasn't too hard to find Samira's body in the middle of a destroyed dinner table.

The elves looked on at her in silence, their bows and swords pointed at the dead body in front of them. the room was dark with only the soft glare of the full moon peeking down through the hole Samira's body had blasted through the roof above them. they moved closer, their steps silent and the breaths controlled. The obvious leader of this group of elves gave a swift kick to the side of Samira's head, forcing it to smash to the other side.

He didn't know what he was expecting when he did that, obviously he didn't expect a dead woman to react, and even if she wasn't dead, due to the injuries she receives she would at least let out a moan of pain to protest the rough treatment. Never the less it was not to hear her voice behind him as she leaned her arm on his shoulder like he was some long lost friend of hers.

"That is such a rough way to treat a woman, is that how you snow elves were raise? It's extremely rude."

Since the inception of the snow elf race, no one would have ever had the guts to say a snow elf was cold or felt a chill. But in that moment they all felt a chill, right from the crown of their head to the soles of their feet, a fear unlike any other. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to say that they were staring death right in the face. Samira gave them a few moments to bask in their new found terror, and then she struck.

Her fangs found purchase in the neck of the snow elf leader, she moved with a vengeance as she ripped his throat out, blood spraying into the air and dying her with it. She spat his esophagus to the ground as she raised her head to look at the rest of the elves who had gathered themselves to one corner of the room, visibly afraid and terrified of what was to come. She smiled in the most sinister manner possible, a smile that was all too reminiscent of the king she served and who's bed she shared.

"Who's next?"