The Forsaken One
Explorer
Oblivious to the yells comming down the staircase from somewhere on the first floor, James presses on the assault. Blinded by anger, blood, pain and above all the all consuming need and drive to protect his friend Ross he delivers blow after blow, strike after strike and scores hit after hit.
His enfuriated friends comming charging down the hallway, locking and loading their weapons, shall never know what happened that day there in that staircase. What posessed their friend, what drove him into that frenzy, what granted him that power to defeat that incarnation of evil. That is only for him to know, for him, James alone.
Feeling his foe fall back, its flesh raked and cut by the Indian holy weapon, James pressed on one last time. The disc in his hand sprung aflame, blue and purple flames shot over his arm and across his chest. Now his hair danced as the blue fire circled around him clouding him in a pillar of blue flame. All pain left his body and his mind cleared again with one emotion filling it, not death, not killing, no hate or anger, but love and care for his friends, that good drove him to this, no evil.
And so he thrust his blade forth one more time. From underneath the Beast he rose, a blue inferno, a pillar of friendship and devotion. And with him rose his weapon, and with a terrible yell James sprung up to smite his foe with all his might. The disc pierced right through his foe and James thrust it right through the wolf, the disc ripping through its spine and appearing on the other side of the Beast.
[Crit!]
What might was bestowed upon him that day remains a mystery. But as the werewolf felt the last of its demonic lifeforce flow from its massive injuries, it tried to howl one last time, but choking on its own acidic blood all that came forth was a muffled and tortured gurgling sound. And so it ended as its massive body fell down upon its slayer. But with unknown strength James held the huge body aloft with but one arm and so he flung it aside. The mutilated wolf body tumbling down the stairs adding its blood to that in the Foyer, its body just another among those already there. And as the body came to a stop in its own pool of blood, the wolf drew its last breath, and as it died, its body transformed back to that of its former human form, or what bloody pulp was left of it now. And indeed, Ian McGuire it was, or whoever he once was. But his tortured existance ended here, this day, this moment.
A gust of cold air blew through the broken front door and up the staircase, and with it cooled the flames. And so James fell onto his knees, tired, but he came through, victorious.
[Bravo! But those were some great rolls! 20, 17 to confirm, a 16 for another hit, a 14 on your fort save for massive dmg, 19 for another crit and another 19 to confirm. But damn u put that doggy down.]
[What is everyone gonna do now?=] Some people missed a show here
Ow man I was so sure James was gonna die and Ross with him... but the roll of the dice....]
His enfuriated friends comming charging down the hallway, locking and loading their weapons, shall never know what happened that day there in that staircase. What posessed their friend, what drove him into that frenzy, what granted him that power to defeat that incarnation of evil. That is only for him to know, for him, James alone.
Feeling his foe fall back, its flesh raked and cut by the Indian holy weapon, James pressed on one last time. The disc in his hand sprung aflame, blue and purple flames shot over his arm and across his chest. Now his hair danced as the blue fire circled around him clouding him in a pillar of blue flame. All pain left his body and his mind cleared again with one emotion filling it, not death, not killing, no hate or anger, but love and care for his friends, that good drove him to this, no evil.
And so he thrust his blade forth one more time. From underneath the Beast he rose, a blue inferno, a pillar of friendship and devotion. And with him rose his weapon, and with a terrible yell James sprung up to smite his foe with all his might. The disc pierced right through his foe and James thrust it right through the wolf, the disc ripping through its spine and appearing on the other side of the Beast.
[Crit!]
What might was bestowed upon him that day remains a mystery. But as the werewolf felt the last of its demonic lifeforce flow from its massive injuries, it tried to howl one last time, but choking on its own acidic blood all that came forth was a muffled and tortured gurgling sound. And so it ended as its massive body fell down upon its slayer. But with unknown strength James held the huge body aloft with but one arm and so he flung it aside. The mutilated wolf body tumbling down the stairs adding its blood to that in the Foyer, its body just another among those already there. And as the body came to a stop in its own pool of blood, the wolf drew its last breath, and as it died, its body transformed back to that of its former human form, or what bloody pulp was left of it now. And indeed, Ian McGuire it was, or whoever he once was. But his tortured existance ended here, this day, this moment.
A gust of cold air blew through the broken front door and up the staircase, and with it cooled the flames. And so James fell onto his knees, tired, but he came through, victorious.
[Bravo! But those were some great rolls! 20, 17 to confirm, a 16 for another hit, a 14 on your fort save for massive dmg, 19 for another crit and another 19 to confirm. But damn u put that doggy down.]
[What is everyone gonna do now?=] Some people missed a show here
Ow man I was so sure James was gonna die and Ross with him... but the roll of the dice....]
You guys crack me up 
