Miloslav moves up behind Rahaal and nods to her that he is ready.
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"I'm sorry. I feel shame at my lack of skill. I practice every day, but sometimes I am still a fool..." Miloslav admits. He blushes an embarrassed red color.
Miloslav roars angrily and slashes at the stinking lizard again. This time his curved blade bites flesh, and slices through as easily as a butcher's cleaver. The lizard splorches onto the floor, dead.
Now able to see, Miloslav heeds Rahaal exhortation. He raises his curved blade high and charges at the remaining troglodyte. He trips on one of the stone tiles in the floor, and nearly drops his blade instead of hitting the beast.
Unable to see anything in the darkness, Miloslav stumbles back into the lit area. He holds his falchion ready to attack any foes who come at him. "I can't see what's going on!" he informs his team.
Traveling internationally for the next nine days, so my posting might be spotty at times. Please bear with me.
Miloslav seems to shake off his post-battle torpor after a short time. He sheathes his sword and grunts at the news of the sleepy sheepherder's demise. "I am a decent climber, but I would feel better if I had a rope to aid me. Does anyone have a grappling hook?"
Miloslav seems to deflate after the spider falls. The stress of successive combats seems to have worn him out. He puts away his sling, and picks up his blade. Then he leans against the wall, breathing hard. He watches Erimriel carefully, ready to leap to her aid should she need it. The sword rage always makes me so tired. Can't let it overcome me though, we might not be done here yet.
Miloslav sets his sling whirling again, and fires another bullet into the arachnid.
Frustrated at not being able to reach the arachnid, Miloslav flings his sword aside, and pulls out his sling. He whirls it around his head a few times until it is a rapid blur and then releases one thong to send a metal bullet flying towards the spider.
"rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Miloslav roars, entering an adrenaline-fueled rage at the sight of the spider. He struggles mightily against the webbing, trying to burst its bonds. His muscles bulge, and a moment later the webbing snaps like so much twine. The raging barbarian dashes further into the room, putting his back to the wall. "COME FRIENDS, TO BATTLE!" he screams.
"Bah!" Miloslav spits. He strides into the webbed chamber. His dominance over the wolves has lent Milo perhaps too much confidence. He says, "Do not hide, shadow dwelling worms! Show yourself and meet my blade!"
"The skin of a beast should only be worn if it was earned in a hunt or battle," Miloslav says. "At least that's how I feel. How would we like it if giants hunted us for sport by the dozens and skinned us to make their garments."
Miloslav moves forward and finishes off the sleeping wolves. He chops each one's head off with a single precise blow from his heavy curved blade. "I will pay 10 gold if any of you can cure these hides and make a cloak out of them for me," Miloslav says to the others after the fight.
Miloslav pivots, stepping smoothly forward over the corpse of the wolf. He recovers his blade by turning one hundred and eighty degrees to keep up the blade's momentum and then swings it at the second canine.
Miloslav moves to the corner of the building and readies his falchion. "Come and get it pups!" he shouts at the dogs.
Sandbox = no rails. No rails = bad for PBP. We need a leader or whatever to make decisions for the group. I don't have the time to dedicate to it, but if Serafina wants to start calling the shots, Miloslav will follow her. She's pretty.
"I know nothing of building forts. I came here to take wealth and find glorious battle. Let us return to the south and hunt some more bandits," Miloslav suggests.
Tiger Lords," Miloslav elaborates. "We came to an agreement with them, but I'd keep your folks from heading north anywhere. We promised to stay off their land."
"I agree to those terms without reservation," Miloslav adds. He offers the chieftain a short bow from the waist, and a smile.
Miloslav grins and claps quietly after Erimriel drops the tribe's "champion" in two blows. "What think you of our strength now, Chieftain?" he asks the chief respectfully.
"If none of you are willing, I have fought several duels. I will stand for us if necessary," Miloslav says. He wears an expression of grim determination, or perhaps it's resignation. It's hard to tell.
"Tell him we'll take care of the lake people," Miloslav suggests. "Return to them part of their stolen lands in exchange for being able to live on the rest."
Miloslav spends the journey cursing his luck to be captured twice so soon after setting out to prove his nobility. He was lucky to be rescued the first time, and doesn't think it's going to happen again. Of course he cannot understand the barbarians who have captured them either, which does nothing to improve his mood. Once they are brought to audience with the Tiger Lord chieftain, he decides it's best for him to remain quiet and allow the others to do the talking. While they do that, he looks for possible escape routes, or weapons that he could steal.
"Shit. We should do as he says," Miloslav says, throwing his own sword on to the ground. "Did you all know that the fort was on their land?"
"What is he saying Aleksandr?" Miloslav asks. He looks extremely tense. "These are fighting men, best we just leave and don't anger them since they outnumber us and are mounted."
I'm around, it's just Chinese New Year this week, so I'm in holiday mode. Finding myself more interested in video games while I have a lot of time off work. I'll be more regular after the holiday is over most likely.
"Stay on your toes, friends. I've got the feeling that we're being watched," Miloslav warns. He has conducted himself admirably for a former city dweller over the last couple of days. He doesn't have the knowledge of Andrezi but he seems to have mastered basic survival skills, and keeps any complaints he might have quiet. He spends most of the time scanning the groups' surroundings as they walk, trying to make sure nothing sneaks up on them.
I'd like one of those longbows if people don't mind.
"You have failed this world. Your life of evil will now be punished. By the rightful power of the Dragonscale throne, I hereby execute you," Miloslav intones formally. He steps up behind the man, and strikes his head from his shoulders with a single slash. "Should we keep the heads to put on the walls of your fort? Might discourage further banditry if people see there is some order coming to the region."
Miloslav nods, "Thank you, and well met." The young man finishes putting on his gear and then picks up his large, sturdy-looking falchion. Hearing the call for help from outside he heads out to take a look. "Want me to cut his head off?" he asks Andrezi. He stares at the bandit with hard eyes. "I've got a score to settle with these f!+%ers."
"مرحبا جميل, I am Miloslav Neve, formerly of Port Ice," the tall man says with a bow. "I believe my charter is in this chest somewhere," he says, pointing to the chest. He doesn't move otherwise, not wanting to threaten the newcomers. "These bandits captured me, and were keeping me in that cage. I convinced them I might be worth a ransom, and they were discussing whether or not to kill me. When you attacked, that man thought he would get revenge on me for taking his eye. It was his mistake to come into the cage. I took his sword and killed him. Now, it is now. Who are you?" Kelish: Hello beautiful,
Miloslav looks up, in the middle of strapping on his armor. "Wait! I'm not a bandit!" he cries, holding up his hands. "I was their prisoner, and am here by rightful charter of the swordlords of Restov!"
Inside: Oh yeah, forgot about that. I grab my stuff and start getting on my armor then.
Inside: Miloslav stabs his assailant with the shortsword.
Inside: Milo takes his chance and surges forward, trying to knock the blade from his assailant's hand.
Hello everyone. I'm going to be joining you soon! |