Quoted By:
>21, Crit Success!
The first one to loose their arrow was Alfred. It flew near silently through the forest, handcrafted by Alfred himself, and hit a gnoll raising its crossbow up to aim directly on its throat. The crossbow was dropped as the gnoll tried to stem the blood from escaping the body. Arthur succeeded similarly, his arrow also made by Alfred punched straight through an eye socket and entered the brain, killing the gnoll in an instant.
The twins took a second set of arrows, notched them while looking for targets, drawing and loose!
Arrows and bolts from the rest of the men joined the effort and now immediately the effect was noticeable. As they pincushioned or outright killed their targets, the gnoll crossbows failed to let loose more volleys that could kill more Regional Defenders.
But as the arrows ran out, the grim realisation struck them.
"Swords!" Arthur shouted and drew his shortsword.
"Make them pay!" Alfred followed as the advancing gnolls were nearly on top of them.
Question was just what could a bunch of men wearing leather at best do to stop charging gnolls? The couple men of Radan's were there and the crossbowmen had some armour and an actual helmets. If this was it, the twins were ready to make their lines cost the gnolls as much as possible.
…
…
…
You are Bakhtet, a proud member of Blacksteel Clan and a warrior honourbound to protect the Prince.
And you are really fucking pissed.
Master Garrick had warned you that the Prince was eccentric and did whatever he wanted and that you should keep your eyes on him to ensure that he is not in any danger. And the moment you took your eyes off him to go and relieve yourself, the gnolls had chosen to make themselves shown. And before you got your armour back on, the Prince had disappeared somewhere amongst his men and between them and the gnolls. It should be easy to spot his flaming sword or pansy elf made armour, but now you couldn't just find him.
Which made you really really really fucking pissed.
"Swords!"
"Make them pay!"
The two brothers were clearly in trouble. Crumbling your bad luck, you knew that the Prince would get mad if you didn't protect his underlings just as well as him. And the gnolls were nearly on top of the men.
Slinging the matchlock off your shoulder, you would make the gnolls pay. If something happens to the Prince and you can't prevent it, your honour is done for.
>3d10, Best of four
>DC 12, 15, Crit 20, 25
