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WSUCougar · 07-28-2004, 10:00 PM

Maneuvering in the face of the lesser boar, Puli took measure of the scene. The dwarf, Soriun, had charged past the beast and was negotiating his war pony through the thick underbrush and turning for another attack. The boar seemed concerned at its flanks being threatened, and the monk took advantage, dancing in swiftly with a whirl of his quarterstaff. His initial swipe just missed, but the return swing smacked the beast solidly in the shoulder. The creature retaliated with a flailing lunge which the monk easily avoided. Soriun then struck from behind with his waraxe, a driving blow that knocked the beast to the ground and opened a gaping wound in its back. If not a mortal blow, it had certainly incapacitated the lesser boar.

On the left, Benton Gale heard the wizard call out, and stepping slightly to the side, drove his sword again at the larger beast with good effect. Just as he felt the weapon bite into the thick hide of the boar, he heard Baldar chanting, and braced himself again for the magic that was sure to follow. The chanting ceased, replaced by two bluish bolts of energy that raced from the wizard’s fingers, snaked past the paladin and wemic, and impacted upon the broad form of the boar with an audible thumping. The animal screeched its distress - SKA-REEEEEEEEEE! – yet rallied immediately with renewed ferocity!

Now here was the bard Mavirr, tooting a compelling tune on his trumpet and sliding in between the wemic and the paladin, his rapier at hand. The beast was thrashing about, enraged at the magical wounds it had just received, and Mavirr’s rapier thrusts failed to land. Kevan the wemic plunged in with his quarterstaff, but again the animal evaded any significant hits. Then it struck back.

Initially, it appeared as if the wemic was again to be its target, but with its forelegs planted it brought its tusks suddenly across to the side, and right through Benton’s shield arm. The bright white of the tusks as they penetrated was sharply contrasted with the red of the paladin’s blood as they were withdrawn; eyes wide with surprise and then pain, the big Prytian warrior staggered under the telling blow, his arm ripped open and an ample gore-wound in his side. A triumphant snarl from the great boar carried across the grove.

07-28-2004, 10:00 PM	#150
WSUCougar Rider Of Rohan Join Date: Jul 2001 Location: Port Angeles, WA or Helm's Deep	Maneuvering in the face of the lesser boar, Puli took measure of the scene. The dwarf, Soriun, had charged past the beast and was negotiating his war pony through the thick underbrush and turning for another attack. The boar seemed concerned at its flanks being threatened, and the monk took advantage, dancing in swiftly with a whirl of his quarterstaff. His initial swipe just missed, but the return swing smacked the beast solidly in the shoulder. The creature retaliated with a flailing lunge which the monk easily avoided. Soriun then struck from behind with his waraxe, a driving blow that knocked the beast to the ground and opened a gaping wound in its back. If not a mortal blow, it had certainly incapacitated the lesser boar. On the left, Benton Gale heard the wizard call out, and stepping slightly to the side, drove his sword again at the larger beast with good effect. Just as he felt the weapon bite into the thick hide of the boar, he heard Baldar chanting, and braced himself again for the magic that was sure to follow. The chanting ceased, replaced by two bluish bolts of energy that raced from the wizard’s fingers, snaked past the paladin and wemic, and impacted upon the broad form of the boar with an audible thumping. The animal screeched its distress - SKA-REEEEEEEEEE! – yet rallied immediately with renewed ferocity! Now here was the bard Mavirr, tooting a compelling tune on his trumpet and sliding in between the wemic and the paladin, his rapier at hand. The beast was thrashing about, enraged at the magical wounds it had just received, and Mavirr’s rapier thrusts failed to land. Kevan the wemic plunged in with his quarterstaff, but again the animal evaded any significant hits. Then it struck back. Initially, it appeared as if the wemic was again to be its target, but with its forelegs planted it brought its tusks suddenly across to the side, and right through Benton’s shield arm. The bright white of the tusks as they penetrated was sharply contrasted with the red of the paladin’s blood as they were withdrawn; eyes wide with surprise and then pain, the big Prytian warrior staggered under the telling blow, his arm ripped open and an ample gore-wound in his side. A triumphant snarl from the great boar carried across the grove. __________________ It's not the years...it's the mileage. Last edited by WSUCougar : 07-28-2004 at 10:02 PM.