>>5797116>>5797120>>5797123>>5797140>>5797146You’d come so far, and made the decision to directly intervene. It had seemed a cowardly thing to you, then, to stay in the back while your friends and family (and Nemenmo) took the risks. With a roar—more a squeak, in retrospect—you’d charged into the fray!
>6 for your combatUnfortunately, you were no natural at combat. Unarmed save for your rather rudimentary combat magic—simple blasts of force, fired haphazardly into the still-blinding brightness of the Ashuratis’ brilliance—you floundered. What you’d picture din your head as a valiant chart to liberate the captured fey became little more than wild flailing, blasting open sacks and pouches and startling the enemies’ beasts of burden. Only two things saved your life: that the goblins were worse-off for the shining light of your allies than you were, and that when one of them finally did spy you charging towards the chained genie-descendant and came at you with a blade…
>4,20 for Muffins…He was immediately rammed out of the air by your beloved Muffins’ goat head, and set upon by the lion’s terrible maw.
>8, 12 for your courageYou’d entered into this engagement ready to fight and (you’d told yourself) ready to kill. In truth, though, you were still the same young half-elf who had cried and vomited to experiment upon animals, even non-lethally and with great care to inflict no serious pain. These goblins might be bandits, or slavers, or killers, or worse… But it was years before you stopped hearing those horrible shrieks and screams, the wet crunches of your precious pet feasting upon the face and throat of that goblin from which he’d rescued you.
The silence which followed was somehow even worse. You’d never seen, or heard, a person die before, but now you knew what that was like.
>3, 12 for Pearce>1, 12, 13 for RudolfoBoth Pearce and your father fought with all they had, but even with the distraction of the false sun in their midst and the terror which Muffins wrought in your defence, the goblins were quick to rally… And they were still the better-armed and more numerous. Pearce’s <Mage Armour> served him well, fending off the worst of the stabs, slashes, and cudgel-pummeling, but your father had no such protection. Despite his superior skill, and managing to fend off and batter back several goblins, we was eventually disarmed and, from there, suffered a quite hard blow to the head which sent him tumbling down.
>17, 18 for NemenmoIt was Nemenmo the Ashurati who had the most success. Moving silently, she wielded her claw-like blades to great effect, using the curious loop of metal at the base of each to easily flip them between forehand and backhand grips as she wove and danced with quasi-elven grace between the goblins. She slashed and slices at them, plucked weapons from their hands and sent them hurtling towards those who had taken up slings or shortbows. She was a one-woman army…
