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DraconicFeline rolled 1 100-sided dice:
43
Total: 43 (1-100)
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Posted: Sun Nov 17, 2013 3:26 pm
Character || Ruelash Stage || Swordsman Battling || Nehredile x1 Battle Stat || 16 Defense || 12 Roll Needed || 80-100 Rolled || 43 Outcome || Lose Experience earned 13x 2 ) /2 = 13
330 words
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Posted: Wed Nov 20, 2013 9:46 pm
Ruelash was after Nehredile again. He just had to catch one and take its horn for himself. It was the horn he thought of most- long, sharp, elegantly twisted. It would, he bet, look really neat with his other random trophies. Horn aside, the meat was good. Definitely worth the effort needed to catch the fat things.
He lingered outside a Gorgorum hole, the same one as before, and waited, swords at the ready, legs primed to pounce as soon as the pudgy hornfaces lifted themselves out of the water. He waited. And waited.
Ruelash wasn't patient in the usual sense. In fact, personality wise, he was very impatient. But when it involved a fight, he could be patient in a way. It was less the patience of a hunter and more the patience of a tensed bow, waiting and longing to be loosed. His was a patience of slavering anticipation, not care. But functionally, it was the same. He knew he could sit at this ice hole for hours, maybe the whole day (though not for more than one day because he had other things he would rather do), living off the anticipation of the fight and the blood and the thrill of the kill. He could wait.
The sun ticked by, making the snow-covered ice sparkle like a great and mysterious jewel. Suddenly, a shadow passed beneath it. Muscles vaguely relaxed tensed once more and something between a grin and a grimace passed over his face. The second the shape leapt out of the hole, he leapt forward, swords slashing in deadly arcs... only to trip on a jutting chunk of ice, and tumble, facefirst, onto the ice, one of the swords skittering away from him, out of reach.
The nehredile sniffed his prone and aching form, then made a bark like a laugh. Ruelash tried to get up, but couldn't. The damn thing was laughing at him. LAUGHING. Ruelash was furious, but he was stunned, he could do nothing but ache. It slid away, as if taunting him, gave him a flipper wave, and dove back into the icy depths.
Ruelash eventually managed to retrieve his swords and limped back to his shelter to sulk.
But he would be back. And then he'd see who was laughing.
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