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Character || Votzhem
Stage || Warrior
Battling || Sailscale
Battle Stat || 30
Defense || 9
Roll Needed || 40-100
Rolled || 88
Outcome || win
Experience earned ||

27+15= 42

Sailscales made good eating, and Votzhem hoped to bring back a few of the little flying monsters and their eggs for his and Kaalnia's dinner. He had scouted out a good spot – a craggy cliff face full of nests, ripe with eggs. It was somewhat dangerous, not the least of which because it was in bandit territory, but Votzhem did not fear them. No longer, though, did he go out of his way to kill them. His battle with them was done, won in his favor, and now his Sister needed him to return. Awesome though Kaalnia was, she would not survive in this place alone and injured.

It did make for a cautious journey to the cliffs, especially cautious on it's dangerous face. “Eaaasy does it...” he murmured to himself, a habit he had acquired during his wilderness survival. He'd had to talk to someone, and he'd been the only one there, aside from the bandits. It was taking some time to become used to having another person around, and it didn't help that he had to go off alone to gather food. Kaalnia was not well enough to come with him yet.

Shrieks and gurgles from above told him he was in the right place, as he looked up to see beady eyes and leathery wings. The flock had seen him, but that was fine. They thought they were safe in their clifftop nests, but he could still come away with a nice haul – more, even, if he played his cards right.

He climbed the wall carefully, feeling the rock for handholds and pulling himself up bit by bit to the alarm of the sailscales. It was no more dangerous than any other part of the cliffs, and it had a far greater reward than anything else in the high lands.

He hooked his arm around an anchoring stone and brought forth a bag. It was made of padded hide, stitched together and stuffed from scratch, crafted by his own hands. Votzhem used it for delicate things like sailscale eggs – it protected them and kept them intact. There had once been a time when his mothers had laughed at his attempts to craft items of use. Not anymore. He was very proud of what he had made.

He reached out, mindful of the air around him, and began to unload eggs from the nest into his bag amid the shrieks of the creatures. One sounded particularly close.

He hesitated, his hand inches from the nest as he reached out to take another egg, before quickly drawing a blade and cutting through the air – as a sailscale passed through it. It gurgled, shocked, and fell to the ground below to the nervous chitterings and flappings of it's companions.

Votzhem sheathed his sword and, calmly, put the final egg into his bag. He made his way back down, stooping to pick up the carcass of the fallen sailscale. “Well.” he said, hoisting his bag and his prize, “That should make enough for dinner.”

He and Kaalnia would eat well.

(513/500)