Post by nate on Mar 24, 2015 15:02:11 GMT -5
Dralban Stood in shock.
Just a moment ago his life, as well as the lives of his friends, were almost extinguished by the seemingly endless waves of bugbears. The raging flurry of blows from the bugbears was relentless. Blank batted the enemy like a cornered feral cat. She managed to evade most of their blows but it was only a matter of time before she tired. The new acquaintance, Zaigan, was strong. Real strong. He seemed to take hit after hit without effect, but how would he fare if the rest of the party fell. Despite Dralban’s efforts to keep Bilkin on his feet, the warlock dropped. With Bilkin, Dralban’s morale diminished. Dralban couldn’t take another hit and a morningstar was on the way.
Right then, halfway through the Bugbear’s swing. Just before making contact with Dralban’s face, the beast shuttered and spat blood. A sword point ruptured through his neck. The bugbear collapsed in a heap and, to Dralban’s disbelief, stood Tecuani. The massive Half-Drow managed to wake from his drunken coma just in time! Dralban let out a screeching cheer for joy. Tecuani held a facial expression like he suffered from a headache. (Maybe from Dralban’s screech of joy or maybe Tecuani just has a permanent hangover.) Now outnumbering their assailants, the party quickly fell whoever didn’t flee.
Dralban made his way to Bilkin and took time to tend to the warlock. After a few moments Bilkin came back. (By came back, Dralban heard him speaking something. To who Bilkin was speaking to, probably wasn’t important.) Everyone else fell in place exhausted. Dralban laid on his back and looked to the sky. Catching his breath and recovering his spirits, he finally had the chance to ask a question that bothered him.
“Why are they called bugbears?”
After few moments of silence he looked to his friends. They all stared in space, recovering from their near death experience. No one appeared to hear Dralban, but that didn’t stop him from continuing.
“They kinda look like furry Orcs to me. Maybe we should call them ‘Orcbears’ or ‘Frorcs’.”
Silence, again. Dralban made his way to his feet. A sharp pain stuck in his leg. He looked to a fresh hole in his breeches thanks to a javelin. The wound was sealing nicely but, still the pain felt fresh.
Dralban straightened his Stag antler headdress and checked his surroundings. The South is where the Bugbears swarmed from. The tavern and their destination was North. Forest surrounded the town. They faced the decision to stay and face the ‘Furry Orcs’ if they returned or set out North for the Queen. Dralban clutched at the small pouch of ash around his neck. Either way, every fiber in his being would see that no town would suffer Hobwash’s fate.
Something caked on Dralban’s face began to cool his chin and cheeks.
‘Probably Bearorc blood’
Nope.
Gravy.
Dralban sucked it off his fingers and chuckled to himself.
Just a moment ago his life, as well as the lives of his friends, were almost extinguished by the seemingly endless waves of bugbears. The raging flurry of blows from the bugbears was relentless. Blank batted the enemy like a cornered feral cat. She managed to evade most of their blows but it was only a matter of time before she tired. The new acquaintance, Zaigan, was strong. Real strong. He seemed to take hit after hit without effect, but how would he fare if the rest of the party fell. Despite Dralban’s efforts to keep Bilkin on his feet, the warlock dropped. With Bilkin, Dralban’s morale diminished. Dralban couldn’t take another hit and a morningstar was on the way.
Right then, halfway through the Bugbear’s swing. Just before making contact with Dralban’s face, the beast shuttered and spat blood. A sword point ruptured through his neck. The bugbear collapsed in a heap and, to Dralban’s disbelief, stood Tecuani. The massive Half-Drow managed to wake from his drunken coma just in time! Dralban let out a screeching cheer for joy. Tecuani held a facial expression like he suffered from a headache. (Maybe from Dralban’s screech of joy or maybe Tecuani just has a permanent hangover.) Now outnumbering their assailants, the party quickly fell whoever didn’t flee.
Dralban made his way to Bilkin and took time to tend to the warlock. After a few moments Bilkin came back. (By came back, Dralban heard him speaking something. To who Bilkin was speaking to, probably wasn’t important.) Everyone else fell in place exhausted. Dralban laid on his back and looked to the sky. Catching his breath and recovering his spirits, he finally had the chance to ask a question that bothered him.
“Why are they called bugbears?”
After few moments of silence he looked to his friends. They all stared in space, recovering from their near death experience. No one appeared to hear Dralban, but that didn’t stop him from continuing.
“They kinda look like furry Orcs to me. Maybe we should call them ‘Orcbears’ or ‘Frorcs’.”
Silence, again. Dralban made his way to his feet. A sharp pain stuck in his leg. He looked to a fresh hole in his breeches thanks to a javelin. The wound was sealing nicely but, still the pain felt fresh.
Dralban straightened his Stag antler headdress and checked his surroundings. The South is where the Bugbears swarmed from. The tavern and their destination was North. Forest surrounded the town. They faced the decision to stay and face the ‘Furry Orcs’ if they returned or set out North for the Queen. Dralban clutched at the small pouch of ash around his neck. Either way, every fiber in his being would see that no town would suffer Hobwash’s fate.
Something caked on Dralban’s face began to cool his chin and cheeks.
‘Probably Bearorc blood’
Nope.
Gravy.
Dralban sucked it off his fingers and chuckled to himself.
