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The Anesthesia rolled 1 100-sided dice:
61
Total: 61 (1-100)
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 Posted: Thu May 12, 2016 9:33 am
Character || Nera
Stage || Beast Charmer
Battling || [one] Janarim
Battle Stat || 30
Defense || 17
Roll Needed || 60-100
Rolled || 61
Outcome || Win
Experience earned || 24
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Posted: Thu May 12, 2016 11:39 am
The former-redhead bared her teeth, since the last time she had come to the establishment the jackass that ran the arena decided to raise the prices of the entry fee. It wasn’t that she truly cared all that much but the fact he was milking his patrons dry irked the woman to no end. Maybe she would start her own arena, get the king of Oba to back her…
She could dream.
Flipping out the coin with a sneer Nera headed towards the entrance and readied herself for her bout. Would Jihad throw another perzi at her or perhaps that stupid winged-hound again? Tightening the grip on the hilt of of her whip and kicked at the sand waiting for her opponent to be announced. Pink hues widen and the breath in her chest caught painfully against her ribcage.
A wild bejeweled gaze located its target from across the uneven battlefield, the earthling was petite, silver-haired and lacking any beginnings of a challenge. The female janarim licked the corner of her dripping maw and shook her colossal head sending ribbons of saliva in all directions. This fight would be over before she even had a moment to stretch her muscles adequately.
Nera rolled her shoulders, she had two of these beasts at home, she knew more than enough to handle herself yet the challenge was still there as was the natural respect she felt weighting heavily on her movements. This was a gorgeous creature but also one that could easily rip her arm off if she didn’t handle herself properly.
Unlike Amir and Issid this Janarim didn’t wait for Nera to decide its course of attention instead the she-beast dashed forward raising its clubbed tail menacingly towards its foe. Nera however was steady, one hand gripping her whip while the other fanned out in front of her keeping her balanced in the shifting sands.
Without thinking Nera let the she-beast move in close, it was marvelous. Glossy scaled hide shimmered in the dim light of the arena and instinctively the lean-figured Oban reached out with force, her painted fingertips slamming into the thin skin of the female creature’s snout. A shriek erupted from the janarim as it pawed at its face and pushed its head into the sands howling in pain. It was over. The match was over. Taking a knee Nera lowered herself into the hot grit of the arena and pulled the beast into her lap massaging the armor behind its ears. She was a tough little janarim too bad she was the Mistress of all War Beasts.
430 words
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