(OOC:Ack! I'm sorry, my mum pulled apart our computer and it was dead for a bit longer than i expected, so i havnt posted for while.)
Kerrigan couldn’t help grinning while he watched the action. The other mages had pretty much forgotten him, or so it seemed, so he had decided to simply sit back and watch. He sat a few metres back with his knees tucked up to his chest. Destruction was so fun. He itched to get into it himself, but watching was enjoyable for now.
Drums shattered, guns fired, strange bird-women were yelled at then grabbed by large men wielding lightning, all with Kerrigan just sitting on the sidelines. That was fine by him. Until he got shot, of course. A round of bullets tore from the rifles held by the contingent of soldiers. The first did nothing; the second rounds special bullets, however, were unexpected. A few were stopped by their intended target, the lighting man, but several whizzed past, towards Kerrigan. Magic flared when they approached, energy in the form of white flame. Instead of disintegrating the projectiles shattered, still flying towards him.
With his shield pierced Kerrigan was completely defenceless. He yelped as clusters of tiny shards tore into him. He reeled backwards, falling onto the pavement. Clenching his jaw, Kerrigan rolled to his feet. He winced as the shards tore at him like tiny daggers with every movement. Using the last of the mist as cover he bolted sideways, towards the nearest building. Ducking into the space that would have been an alley, if the next building wasn’t currently a smoking ruin, Kerrigan took shelter.
He leaned against the wall, studying his wounds. His breath came in shallow gasps. He would have to work fast, he was pretty cut up. He took his time, drawing out the shards with a little magic until he was sure none were still inside. There was little in the way of life nearby, except for what clung to the walls. Not enough for healing certainly. He focused, drawing on his own strength to heal himself.
Slowly, the wounds began to heal, sealing up and leaving no trace of their existence, save for the holes in his clothing and a little blood. Slumping back against the wall he panted, sweat covering his flushed face. Healing was certainly not Kerrigan's forte. He needed energy, and he needed it now. Staggering to his feet he surveyed the area. The clump of soldiers was a little way away and they could not see him where he was. Slipping from building to ruined building Kerrigan snaked his way down to the men. He was about halfway there when he noticed something he had overlooked before. A soldier, one of the two he had seen earlier, was crouching behind a bit of wall. It was obviously not the one who had tried to attack.
This one would do, his energy could restore that which Kerrigan himself had used up in healing. He slipped up silently, his dark skin blending with the shadows. When he was close enough, Kerrigan leaped. He landed in front of the lone soldier, trying to pin the arm in which he held his gun back against the wall. He immediately drew the power he needed, sapping it from the soldier like a leech sucks blood from its host. He fed on the mans energy, his life force, draining the soldier. He would feel weak, like he had just run a marathon. Kerrigan was momentarily paralysed as he consumed the energy. He could not take it all, but he was still trying to take a lot, and that was no easy task.
