Reylena de Cold

[Caanon]

The first dueling character of campaign

Reylena Lillith de Cold

WS 5
BS 5(4)
S 3
T 3
W 2
I 5
A 3
LD 9
SV 3+

Equipment: Blade of Admonition
Bolt Pistol

Faith Points: 1
Act of Faith: Divine Guidance
Team: FoD (Chaos)

Point cost: 125

Cost break down: Human 15. extra stats 70, equipment 40 and package
Base cost: 15 (human)
Upgraded stats: Ws. Bs, S, T, W, I ,A

Curent level: 2
Current cost: 125
Total experience: 988
Exp to next level: 113/2000
Wins/ Losses/ Draws: 7/6/0
Injuries: Blinded in left eye
Location:
Allies:

VICTORYS:
Humiliated Az in the first duel of Aftermath (Defeated him in the first round of shooting )
Out shot Ith's vindicare assasin
Took Az's ear
Beat Warman's crossing dressing eldar (he didn't walk to good in heels)
Won the first multi duel (beat Dak and DragonN)
Beat the Pointy eared git again... still had prolems with his heels
And again (you'd think he'd get rid of those damn heels)

[Caanon]

Return

Broken. The wind gushed down the deserted street, screams and howls from the savaged buildings. Tumbling dust and debris down the small back alley, the wind ruffled her coat. Four years, nothing had seemed to change, even the dust was the same. The storm was about to break, a different storm, the same storm This was where it had happened. She felt no pity, no remorse for her death, just to pay her respects.

“I see I am not the only one to have returned,” she said, feeling his presence.

She didn’t bother to turn around face him, she knew who he was, knew what he wanted. He wasn’t here to pay his respects.

“Tomorrow can still be four years later, heretic,”

“Still name calling I see”

She spun, the weapon light in her hands. Firing, weapon bucking madly in her hand as rounds ricocheted down the alley. Empty, the magazine clattered to the ground, reload, the target was down.

Moving, he’d be up soon, he was annoying that way. She was down the street, moving at angles, distance wasn’t as important as having several buildings in the way. He was coming again, the thundering of his foot falls echoed around her. Weapon out, searching, which way? Which way was he coming?

There, her fingers tensed, firing. He came in low, shoulder first, under her fire. Contact, his shoulder smashed into her stomach, forcing the air from her lungs, contining forward, driving her into a wall. She sucked in, drawing into him as much as possible, his own bulk stopping him from striking her. He slammed her into the wall again, trying to brake her loose, she kept her head tucked in. Drawing back further, he charged at the wall again, she let go, rolling away.

Scrabbling to her feet, she fought for breath, ignoring the pain in her back. Ducking around the corner she took her weapon up again, changing the magazine. Glancing back…

The bolt penetrated halfway through the brick wall before detonating, two more of its brethren meeting similar fates. The wall shook and crumbled, fragments spraying out everywhere. She fought back her scream, pain overwhelming her, vainly trying to stem the flow of blood from her left eye with her hand.

“REPENT!” Azakiel shouted as the woman fled, “For tomorrow you die”