"Tartuk's Flame."
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"We should burn poor Tartuk, but with honor. His family doesn't need to seem him like this. He will be remembered well."
After helping dig the pit, Sytåz gathers some firewood nearby for the fire.
Sytåz straps his bow to his back and helps with the digging.
Sytåz draws another arrow and aims at the fallen troll. He holds his bow ready for quite a few moments before relaxing his grip. He puts the arrow away and visibly relaxes. "You can never be too careful with sorcerers."
A wicked grin shows on Sytåz's face when he sees arrow slip past the troll's armor. He continues to press forward, launching another arrow at his foe. Dice Rolls:
Sytåz continues to fire arrows from his bow, turning his attention to the sorcerer. dice rolls:
Sytåz stands his ground and fires again. Dice Rolls:
Sytåz advances toward the pool and throws a knife at the creature . Dice Rolls:
Sytåz whispers impatiently, "Give me light and I will attack, we need to move quickly." He edges forward, following the left wall, creating an opening for others to pass.
Sytåz brazenly heads toward the chanting, his two knives in hand.
Sytåz straps his bow on his back, draws a pair of knives and heads into the cave. Dice Rolls:
With bow in hand and arrow knocked, Sytåz edges toward the cave mouth.
With surprising speed, Sytåz launches another arrow at his target. Die Rolls:
Sytåz fires his bow, the arrow guided mystically to the glowing mark on his target. Dice Rolls:
Sytåz crouches down and takes aim with his bow at one of the cadaver men. He focuses intently on his target.
Dice Rolls:
Sytåz grips his bow and follows the others toward the cave.
Sytåz follows warily, his bow in hand.
Sytåz kneels close to get a good look at the man. He looks up and nods sadly at Glottal. "This is Geleem. We must find whoever did this."
Sytåz accepts a handful of berries from Glottal. "I am Sytåz, it is a pleasure to meet you Glottal." He turns to Garrett. "Let us find the loggers before it becomes much later, lead on."
Sytåz puts away his carving knife and looks around the forest. "So where is your friend?"
Placing his arrow back in his quiver, Sytåz walks over to a nearby tree. He carefully selects a small, straight branch. With a surprisingly deft and delicate touch, he carves the branch into a windling-sized shaft with a wooden arrow head. With feathers from his belt pouch he carefully adds fletching to the end. He finishes by engraving a word in T'skrang along the shaft. Sytåz walks over to the windling and presents the arrow. "I am Sytåz of Ishkarat. I name this arrow 'Trust' and present it as a gift to you in memory of our meeting. Do you need my companions to prove their skill or will you accept my oath as a namegiver?" Fletching and woodworking
Sytåz draws an arrow from his quiver. "This fletching is my work. If you show us your talents I would be happy to make another for you. Otherwise, I may have a use for this one."
Sytåz steps forward, one hand on the dagger tucked in his belt. "We are no bandits. Perhaps it was you who frightened away our friends with magic. What brings you to this precise camp in the woods?"
I made a T'skrang Archer. |