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DraconicFeline rolled 2 100-sided dice:
96, 72
Total: 168 (2-200)
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 Posted: Fri Nov 22, 2013 5:48 pm
Character || Ruelash
Stage || Swordsman
Battling || Raoti x 2
Battle Stat || 16
Defense || 6
Roll Needed || 70-100
Rolled || 96, 72
Outcome || Win x 2
Experience earned ||
2[6 x 6 ) / 2 = 36 exp
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Posted: Thu Nov 28, 2013 6:42 pm
Sometimes Ruelash thought it would have been easier to hunt creatures if he had a bow. Distance hunting was so much easier than charging in and attacking with his swords, or wrestling them with bare hands. For one thing, you had the element of surprise. Being at a distance meant that there was a chance of not being noticed by your prey. When they didn't know you were there, they relaxed their guard and you could get a good shot in. Ruelash would be the first to admit that it took serious skill to fire a bow effectively. You had to account for all sorts of things like the wind and the stability of your arm and frankly, Lash was not built for complexity. Melee weapons like swords were comparatively simple- you hit a thing, thing gets hurt. You don't hit a thing, thing doesn't get hurt. These were simple enough to understand. It was, though, easier to hunt with a ranged weapon.
But it wasn't as fun.
Ruelash chased the fresh tracks of the Roati, his snowshoes not nearly as efficient as their soft feet as they both dashed over the snow.It brayed to it's comerades for help, but both it and 'lash knew that help would not be fast enough. Ruelash pounced like a Parak, tackling the screaming beast to the ground and ending its life with a slash of swords. He heard the braying of it's panicked pack, and Ruelash didn't care- let them come- let the whole herd come. Roati could be tricky opponents and dangerous when cornered, but he wanted that soft fur for his project and the other parts would not go unused either. Roati were useful creatures, when dead anyway. Their fur was soft and suitable for warm soft clothing, their horns were great for drinking cups and caps for things, their sinew made great supports, their meat was soft and tasty, and their bones could be crafted or made into bonemeal to supplement growing bones and crops. Even their snowshoe feet could find a use in something or other, though Ruelash wasn't sure what.
Alive, though, and as pets they were useless wastes of space, much like their whining owners. They weren't useless out in the wild- they lived there and out here use and not use had nothing to do with being alive. Dead, sure, but not alive. But in Ruelash's opinion they were among the least useful familiars around. He bound and strung up his still-warm kill in a tree and went towards the sounds of the herd. He needed at least two roati worth of fur and like hell was he buying it from some shithead trader! Sure, he could get it, but it would cost an arm and a leg and he could do it himself. Some of the other materials for his project he would need to buy - the rest of the roati would cover that - but he could hunt a roati and he could skin it and prepare the skin without some stupid trader powdering it up or whatever they did that made it worth actual silver.
He smelled them before he heard them milling confusedly among the young, dormant saplings. Raoti didn't smell as bad as some other Zena animals, but they didn't smell like a Tale rose either. He liked the smell of oil and sweat and animal. He also liked the smell of blood, which clung to him now, fresh from his kill.
The Raoti smelled it too and their milling became more frantic, and then suddenly directional as they began to flee. Pouncing, he caught a straggler as the rest ran, saving themselves at the cost of their screaming herdmate. They were in the distance as Ruelash wrestled his struggling kill to the ground and, finally, ended its life.
As he dragged it to his other kill, he decided to come back with just the two. They were quite big for this time of year, and he would have enough to carry with just them.
He whistled a brief but jaunty tune as he started back to Secer, grinning as he replayed the kills in his head. Soon, though, those faded to daydreams of what he would do with the furs, and the project at hand.
He couldn't wait to start.
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