You venture a bit out into the swamplands, following a strange sound in the distance -- and before you can get too far, you spot a medium-sized animal, floundering around a bit among the trees. As you approach, you notice something strange: some shredded fabric still clinging around one foot, or around its neck, like the remnants of some long-destroyed clothing.
At this point, it occurs to you that this might be a transformed human being. maybe it's even one of you. And you must capture it.
Except it doesn't seem to want to be captured. Your approach spooks it, and it attacks you in blind fear.
Hit Points: 30 HP Damage: 4 HP each time you attack
If you bring this monster down to 5HP or below, it is injured and can be captured and brought back to the campsite for safe keeping until you can figure out what to do. However, if you drop it below 0HP, you kill it.
Either outcome, once finished with at least 500 words each party involved in the battle gets 10XP and rolls 1d100 to collect loot according to the following:
1-40: You gain nothing but the victory of having beaten this opponent. 41-99: Moly Flower: a small white flower with a dark root. You're not quite sure what it's for, but decide to keep it. 100: Fine Wine: Why would an animal have a bottle of wine? Considering all that's going on, we strongly suggest you don't drink. If you act rashly and do, though, please PM and be blue for consequences.
Smerdle rolled 1 6-sided dice:
1Total: 1 (1-6)
Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2016 12:46 pm
He heard Shirley before he saw her, a loud, squelching series of clip-clops sounding through the trees and forcing him to pause.
"What in the he—"
And then she burst into the small clearing he had stopped in, braying like she was giving birth. The donkey crashed into Zan's back, knocking him off of his feet, then circling around to huff in his face.
Character Name:Zan Gethin Brief description of character: Friendly, perceptive, phony. Zan has wholeheartedly embraced the more mundane aspects of his new life at the Prytaneum—such as regular meals, his stipend, and the gym—but his inability to stick with any one thing for long has left him struggling to pin down how he might best serve his god long term.
Deity: Hermes Weapon: Dagger HP: 50 Minicert:
x3 moly flowers
Smerdle
Scamp
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Smerdle rolled 1 6-sided dice:
1Total: 1 (1-6)
Smerdle
Scamp
Offline
Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2016 12:48 pm
Zan checked for the telltale signs of a changed Chosen: intelligent eyes, bits of clothing, then when he was sure this was one of them, he rose and began punching her about the neck. Shirley reared back, gunning toward a tree and slamming him into it. Zan groaned, smacking more feebly. Hermes token or no, that was going to leave a mark.
He finally pulled his knife the next time she backed away, stabbing at her side in a spot where she hopefully wouldn't be injured too badly. Zan winced when he saw blood, but kept fighting anyway, eventually worming his way out of her pin. He circled behind her quickly, dagger at the ready. Shirley took a lot longer to turn, with her new injury and unfamiliar bulk, and when she had he was waiting for her.
She responded by rearing back again, screeching as she charged. Shirley missed most of Zan as he dodged, but he missed most of her as well, and when they stopped moving, breath heaving and eyes wide, they stood at an impasse once more, only on opposite sides of the clearing from where they'd started.
This time, it was Zan who initiated the charge, shouting loudly enough to bring all the turned Chosen to fight him. Whether he truly surprised the donkey or whether she just misjudged his reach, Shirley stood mostly still as he struck, slicing a large gash into her thigh.
He was pretty sure any other Chosen with half an ounce of sense would have given up by now, but Shirley turned back, glaring at him with her too-human eyes. It was as good as a taunt. Come and get me.
So he did.
Zan darted forward, holding his dagger out in front of him, and when he drew close enough to strike what might have been a fatal blow, he pulled back the blade instead, snapping her on the flank with its flat like he was snapping a towel.
She seemed to acquiesce, allowing him to get close enough to climb on her back if he was so inclined. He wasn't, and as it turned out, her complacency was a lie anyway. As soon as Zan's wrist was within reach of her jaws, Shirley clamped down on it, not hard enough to injure him but definitely with enough force to hold him still.
Shirley huffed, sending a gob of spit spattering on his skin.
"That's ********' gross," he muttered, trying to get free without breaking his skin. Zan sighed. "Are you coming?"
She held his arm still with a faint tightening of her jaws, then nodded, sending his arm flailing.
"Let's go then." He'd had enough of this particular fight.
