Vidi

Generally a warrior will tell you that the battlefield is hardly a romanticized place, no matter what any fancy author would have you believe. It’s a messy, disgusting place, where dirt and blood and sweat and tears mingle in a roaring cacophony of death.

Not Vidi. He would say it’s more of a dance hall. But only a Wildclaw of his grace and practiced movements would say the same.

Approaching the battlefield, readying his Shadowstrikes, watching his adopted sister Veni slide along in front, waiting for her signal...and then...go.

Slash, spin, turn, (“Was the spin really necessary, Vidi?” Vici would shout from behind him), double strike, stab, duck, punch, wait for her to heal his bruised knuckles, slash again, and spin. Strike, then flip. (“Before you ask, no, the flip wasn’t necessary, it just looked cool!”)

Meanwhile Veni sat far back, preening, waiting for her poisons to take effect. Slacker. He was where the battle was. The heat, the adrenaline, the rhythm of bodies in motion, opposition.

Within moments it was all over. The enemy was dead or fleeing. Those who ran would drop later if they’d had even a single bite of food.

Vidi leaned against a tree and examined his injuries, or lack thereof. He smiled as he removed the protective sheaths he’d slid over his attack claws. His manicure and pedicure were still intact, thanks to these nasty little weapons.

Vici sidled up to him. “What color is it this time?”
He jumped back, embarrassed. “If you must know...it’s called ‘Orchid of Doom’.”

She chuckled. “Last time, it was ‘Honey You Want To Die For’. Where do they get these ridiculous names?”

“I think they’re just a ploy of the alchemists to make you think you’re getting a battle enhancement,” Veni said, tapping her claws together thoughtfully. They were tastefully painted in “Saffron of Souls”, but she was far less careful with her polish, and her claws already showed evidence of wear and tear. “They don’t really do anything except look nice.”

Vici snorted. “You won’t catch me falling for that. My claws already have natural highlights.”

“I’d recommend these anyway,” Vidi said proudly, holding up the claw-sheaths. “They actually do enhance my attack speed, because they can be sharpened along the edge to produce a razor-sharp edge.”

“I have these,” Veni said, holding up her heavy foreclaws. “I didn’t know they made them for Wildclaws’ hind legs, though.”

The two looked at their sister, who was unremarkable in her genetic coloration or her dress. In fact, she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

“You know…”

“You might consider…”

Vici snorted. “I’ll decide on my genetic patterns and my style of dress when I’m good and ready. In the meantime, I don’t need armor or weapons, because all my skills are magic-based.”

“Indeed.” Vidi stroked the trailing streamer of his sentient knifeblades. “And mine aren’t?”

“Nope.”

“There’s plenty of magic involved in my weaponry!”

“Ha! You wouldn’t know a spell if it fixed your nail polish for you!”

“Hey!”

Before their squabble got physical, Veni stepped in. “According to my calculations, it’s time we headed back to camp.”

Vidi’s head whipped around. “Food?”

“Food,” she agreed.

“I’ll race you!”

“I’ll win! You’ll be trying to save your nail polish!”

“Hey!”

Giggling, the two girls raced off, with Vidi in hot pursuit.

bio by Bxy26