Rolled 78, 23, 56 + 42 = 199 (3d100 + 42)
>>6185770“N-No, please… please… contain it,” Soralisa mutters, closing her eyes. “Help us, o Sun-Birther.”
“I’ll take what she took,” Willow sighs right after your brunette friend, even if she keeps her eyes on you. “For her.”
“You countryside bumpkin, vinegarred winemaker and troublemaker of an estranged plebeian!” Rubida shouts. “Do your best and come back here!”
You smile in her direction — wonder if ‘vinegarred’ is even a word — pick up Carnaval’s feather and walk, on naked feet, on the black stone that celebrates Saint Bragia, while her cameo rests on your chest.
“Release it,” you instruct Sandora, who is still trying to hold the thing about to spill out. “It is going to come out anyway.”
“Are you sure?” She winces, then falls on one knee, her body wrecked by spasms.
You are not.
There is no certainty in this.
Your heart beasts so fast in your chest. Carnaval’s weapon feels so sharp and unyielding in your wrist — but at the same time it pulsates with the heat of the angel’s blood.
You do not know this Asterite who found his hiding place in the depths of the Temple. At another time, you could try and feel pity for him.
But he has killed three Crows.
Attempted to suffocate Willow.
Put your friends in danger — and, you suppose, Sandora as well.
And worst of all, he’s desecrating Saint Bragia’s Temple.
<span class="mu-i">Are you sure?</span>
“The one who gave me this task was,” you reply, holding the feather right in front of you. Its sharp lines glint in the light of the afternoon.
In the end, it always comes down to a matter of trust.
“Then I hope she was right!” Sandora gives you a grin, her jade eyes flashing, and withdraws her shield, which wraps itself around her and she withdraws.
From below, a torrent of copper and marble pieces rushes out, reaching for you, glistening with the brightness of the Sanction above. Its sharp hooks are a promise of pain.
You get ready to strike.
>Combat Roll: Bo6, 1d100+36 for you (using Carnaval’s feather), beat at least TWO of my rolls at the top of my post. A nat 100 on one of your rolls means the feather breaks and releases its blood (also known as ‘doing the funny’)>Dubs, trips and so on still applyGood luck, anon. Thanks for playing. Let’s hope you manage to win this… it’s time to wrap this guy in a sarcophagus and go back to the Holy Land. Dawn will come again.[/spoiler.] 