>>6113602Nestor continues smiling and waving to the crowd, basking in his perceived victory, until a large fist with the weight of stone smashes into his nose, sending him flying back to land on the floor. The crowd, which had been hooting and hollering just a second ago, suddenly falls deathly ill upon the revelation that you had not in fact been defeated.
>Tristain: 25 STR - 12 DEF = 13 DMG (Nestor: 14/40 HP)Nestor gets back to his feet shakily, spitting blood from his mouth. Despite having only your fists to deal with, he seems to be in worse shape than you are, wobbling around back and forth. “Impressive! The people of Fodlan must be more resilient than I thought. Still, you’re just a man. And a cocky one at that, thinking you could face me with just your bare hands! I’ll show you true Morfisian swordplay!”
>Nestor: 18 STR + 7 (Scimitar) = 25 ATK - 19 DEF = (Roll: 36, No Crit) 6 DMG (Tristain: 20/50 HP)>Adept (Roll: 8, Success)>Nestor: 18 STR + 7 (Scimitar) = 25 ATK - 19 DEF = (Roll:8,Crit) 18 DMG (Tristain: 2/50 HP)>Resolve Activated: (Tristain: +7 STR, SPD, DEF)An absolute flurry of sword slashes come your way, and for a second you find yourself feeling that familiar, yet rare thrill that comes with a hard-fought battle. Nestor’s multiple attacks are not born from a sense of panic or fear. Each slash is well placed, and carries the stroke of a master artist. You had to hand it to the man. Scumbag or not, he knew how to fight. Rare was the individual capable of pushing you to your absolute limit. It’s just a shame that what it took was you having to drop your weapon. Still, you wouldn’t begrudge the man. That had been your decision, not his. You were just grateful he was able to make things interesting.
“Taste your defea-” Nestor’s eyes open wide with shock as you grab his lashing blade with one hand. He tries to pull the weapon from your iron grip, but to no avail. You yank the blade from his hands, before wrapping him at the waist with both your arms. Face to face, all he can see is the haunting visage of your grinning, bloodied face, pupils both wide and white. Try as he might, he is unable to escape your grasp, even when giving it his every effort.
“Y-you’re a demon!” He utters, before you lift him up off the ground, bend yourself backwards, and crash his head onto the stone floor.
>Nestor: 0/40 HP>100xp gained (50/100)>Tristain d’Rusalka>Level 23/50 Lord (EXP: 0/100)HP: 50 (120%) + 1 = 51
Strength: 25 (65%) +1 = 26
Magic: 17 (40%) + 1 = 18
Speed: 14 (30%)
Defense: 19 (60%) + 1 = 20
Resistance: 11 (40%) + 1 = 12
Luck: 12 (55%)
You look down at your handiwork. Nestor lay there unmoving. Was his neck broken? That might be bad. This was supposed to be a “friendly” duel. The crowd makes no noise, standing there unmoving. Only the prostitute with the healing stave motions to make a move, leaning over Nestor and beginning her potentially futile task.
Now was a good time to leave.
