|
|
|
|
|
Beejoux rolled 2 8-sided dice:
5, 5
Total: 10 (2-16)
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2015 1:10 pm
 |
|
|
 |
The timidness, while not abetting, seemed to be taking a back seat as the spar began to heat up. Oliver was advancing, the heavy swing of his axe lending momentum, and Gretchen was forced to continue that quick retreat. Unsuccessfully. It bit into her shield, threw her balance a bit, and she had to stagger to stay on her feet.
As she caught her balance though, she'd bring her staff up in a wide arc, aiming for whatever bit of his upper body she could manage to hit before another attempt was made to put a little bit of space between them.
If she could disrupt his forward momentum, maybe she could slow him down a little.
HP: 26
DMG: 4
CHG: 3/3
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Grey Dragon rolled 2 10-sided dice:
7, 9
Total: 16 (2-20)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Beejoux rolled 2 8-sided dice:
7, 4
Total: 11 (2-16)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Grey Dragon rolled 2 10-sided dice:
9, 9
Total: 18 (2-20)
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 11, 2015 7:22 am
|
|
|
|
Oliver winced, jerking his leg back even as he brought the weapon around for another attack. It brought back very strong memories of banging his shins on coffee tables in the dark, tripping over furniture, tending dark bruises in the days that followed... But it wasn't enough to even slow the Intermediate. Perhaps that was the real difference living on the island had made, Oliver couldn't always avoid pain, but he had learned to keep moving in spite of it.
In it's sword form, Jökul's speed was more impressive, but the boy had to wield it more forcefully to make up for it's inability to pick up as much natural momentum. Using it from the beginning of a match would exhaust him in short order, but it was an impressive finisher.
Stepping into the attack, Oliver reminded himself there were wards in place. It would be okay... And then he let the attack hit, the large blade easily striking not just his opponent's leg, but reaching her torso as well in one long, violent slash.
HP: 29
Dmg: 12
Chg: 3/3
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2015 4:14 pm
|
|
|
|
For the briefest second when he came to, Oliver was disoriented. Yet when it all came back to him it was a good thing he was lying down or he might have fallen over again.
He sat up quickly, his face pale with alarm. "I-I-I'm s-so s-sorry, ah, a-are you okay, o-oh my gosh- Th-the infirmary... ah, w-we should go..." It took that long for him to trail off, picking up on Gretchen's distinct lack of panic. At first he didn't get it, his hands shook, and his eyes darted nervously as he searched for those missing traces of blood that most certainly should have been everywhere. But then he spotted the prosthetic lying on the trampled grass of the training field.
The boy's face slowly dropped into his hands. "I am s-so sorry," he moaned, muffled almost past coherency.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
