[IRP] Smugglers, Saints, and Spears

[Gazetteer]

Gwen's attention was first snapped up by the bright flash from the distance from the direction Panika had disappeared in. She felt a bit uneasy; was that the signal? It didn't look a lot like any nature magic Gwen had ever seen. Shortly thereafter, though, a ball of fire drifted straight up into the air, unmistakably a signal flare.

That suggested the origins of the first flash of magic might be of less savory origins. Gwen couldn't help bit grimace at the prospect of enemy magic users; she'd signed up expecting to have to kill men with axes and spears. Some bows and arrows at worst. Magic and wyverns just didn't mix at all. Even so, it wasn't like it wasn't being made well worth her time to be there -- it was time to earn her keep.

"Come on, girl," she muttered, nudging Freyja's sides with her boots. The well-trained wyvern soared upward with a surge of her wings, gaining speed and altitude in rapid order. She drew her lance up out of the long sheath attacked to Freyja's saddle and leveled it for use on the way. The red-tinged steel of the lance's tip gleamed lethally in the sunlight.

There was Panika down below, flipping around like a monkey, but outnumbered. Mages were useful, but Gwen simply didn't trust them on their own in combat situations -- she was going to need to provide the mage-thief either an extraction, or a distraction. The decision was made for Gwen before she could arrive at a decision, however, when a bolt of something bright and magicy burned through the air next to her ear. Distraction it was!

Gwen urged Freyja to swoop down in a quick sweeping dive, changing altitude quickly and drawing the fire of at least one of the enemies. Whoever was shooting magic at her seemed like a good shot, but even so it was difficult to reliable hit a fast moving target at this distance. Gwen just needed to avoid getting her head blown off long enough for the others to arrive on foot and give further support to her and Panika.