<Font Color="Red"><u>Attention:</u> <Font Color="IndianRed">Melif</FONT></FONT>

<Font Color="White">In The Common Room Of The Low Tide</FONT>

<Font Color="Gray"><P ALIGN="CENTER">No, it's not your imagination - you definitely hear dice rolling...<P ALIGN="LEFT"></FONT>

<Font Color="DodgerBlue">The hammer flies true, slamming into the oblique top-left of the deadling's head, sending him/it sprawling forward off the bench, onto the floor.The wounded man, taken totally by surprise, turns toward Melif."<Font Color="SpringGreen">Are you out of your mind?</FONT>" he demands, staggering backward. (He was thrown off balance by the sudden drop of the body onto the floor right where he was standing...)

<Font Color="IndianRed">Fire</FONT>, glancing back and forth between his master and the deadling (it would appear that <Font Color="IndianRed">Fire</FONT> followed/watched the hammer's path as it soared between them...), comes to a decision, and dodges behind the bar. The Barwench's screams doppler to a muffled thump, as she stumbles backwards over some unseen obstruction.

At the door, a second bright flare of red is accompanied by a crackling sound, as glints, sparks and flashes of blue lightning can be seen jumping horizontally across the doorway.

On the floor, the deadling seemingly struggles for its feet, when the axe, at the bottom of the downstroke, pierces it from the nape of the neck to the center of the spine, sinking in with a solid "chunk", and knocking it back into a clumsy sprawl in the floor.But it continues to try to move, singlemindedly, toward <Font Color="IndianRed">Melif</FONT>.</FONT>

<Font Color="LawnGreen">Note to <Font Color="IndianRed">Melif</FONT> -> </FONT><Font Color="Silver">It appears - from tactile hints that you instinctively know - that your axe is stuck/wedged in something solid within the deadling's body......just thought you might like to know, as it will most likely affect your next move...</FONT>

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[img]graemlins/1dice.gif[/img]

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Melif holds the long handled ‘Rider’s axe’ firmly by the end, denying the coffin stuffing the opportunity to close the gap between them. The Wolfrider tries to scoop up his hammer while resisting the deadling.

“Lass, please tell me there is a back way out of this hole!” called Melif “I believe I will be walking you home about now!” The knowledge that the shadow at the door was no doubt a greater threat than the undead had prompted the dwarf to uncharacteristically opt to live to fight another day. Besides, a Wolfrider’s primary duty was that of a defender, not an offensive player.
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OOC>>>DM...I have not thought to ask you this until now, but how much creative leniency do I have? How far do you want me to post on, without your guiding hand? I can probably do very well, yet you seem to be running an obvious agenda and in a planned forumla that you have dreamed up, thus I certainly do not want to interfere with the flow that you wish to have. Let me know if I can have the reigns to run, or if you are actually enjoying your plotted scheme :D


<font color=steelblue>Belthil

Belthil glanced at the steed in awe for a moment. What had his guide meant by those words? His knowledge was certainly something to thirst for, even though Belthil had stayed awake many nights listening to his father whisper secrets of the world to Belthil's mom, and what agendas the Council were considering in the many years that have passed, or have yet to come. He was beginning to realize that he had not learned the value of a single leaf in a forest of secrets about the world.

Gearing up and mounting quickly as advised, Belthil and his team followed the supposed trail of that of his sister, where she had disappeared into the darker wood. He had confidence that they would find her, one scout would return home with her kicking and shouting blasphemies all the way...as was her mannerism when she did not get what she wanted, and then he could start his true and real mission for the good of all elves, and become this hero that his Grand-ma had made him dream of being.</font>