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Message: <blockquote data-quote="rgoodbb" data-source="post: 7105666" data-attributes="member: 6801229">Meanwhile...Throg was hanging upside down looking at his own dripping blood painting pretty pictures in the snow below him. Ten feet away lay his Battleaxe of Meaningful Significance half buried in the white crust. An arctic Owlbear had come at him leaping through the white mirk of the blizzard. It had gained a surprise round...This placed Throg son of Throg in an existential quandary. Surely there was no longer a surprise round. But He’d been surprised and he felt that he couldn’t react yet…and this was not a round yet but initiative had been ….so…. uhm… Using his combined Wisdom and Intelligence of 6 (which had been lowered again since the departure of Bar De-Door), Throg’s nose bled a lot more. He knew this didn’t he?The pain in his ankle by which he was being lifted up, jolted him back from his less than deep thinking. “Whooooo”“I am Throg Throggsonn, Son of Throg”“Whooooo, whooooo……..”</blockquote>