You brace yourselves for the charge, with Fin and Oswald standing slightly to either side of you, all of you with your swords drawn. You all strike out as strongly as you can, but this bear weighs well over one thousand pounds, and it easily ignores the thrusting of your swords, blunt as they are. You try to strike for a vital spot, but it all happens so fast, and you don't strike home.
The beast is prepared to bowl into the three of you, buy you manage to expertly roll to the side, avoiding a flash of wicked claws and thrashing teeth. Somehow, the other two make it clear, as well, and the bear scampers to a halt a few feet past your group. It circles around, back towards its cubs, roaring as you flick your swords at it.
Your progress continues away, but the bear will not be deterred. It charges again, but this time you have its rhythm down, and set your feet. As Oswald and Fin dodge to the side, you steel yourself, let out a mighty roar, thrust your blade towards the gargantuan creature's gullet. The bear lets out a roar of its own to match yours, and your blow strikes true: your blade, blunt as it may be, snakes its way down the beast's throat.
The world goes bright with color as the bear slams into you. You feel claws rip easily through your fur armor, tearing at your shoulders and arms, and you go flying backwards, skidding across the ground harshly. A split second later, you feel an immense weight crash on top of you, and the world goes black.
***
Pain. Distant voices. More pain. Darkness.
***
You gasp for air and are greeted with an agonizing blaze of fire from your rib cage. A cough convulses your body, and all your world is red. Your arms are on fire, and you roll your head down to see red ribbons of blood running down your well-muscled biceps. Your eyes roll up to the sky, and you see Fin dimly, silhouetted against a blue sky.
The world goes fuzzy again.
***
Your sense of self returns slowly. You realize you are no longer under the sky, but in a building. Your throat is parched. You croak, and your vision focuses on your wife, who is standing near you with a cup of water and a look of great worry on her face. She tips the cup for you, as your arms don't seem to want to listen to you, and you drink fully.
As clearly as you can, you ask what happened.
"You killed a mighty bear, you bloody foolish man. But it didn't go down cleanly. It bowled you over and landed on top of you. Fin and Oswald pried it off of you and saved your life. Your ribs are broken, and your arms are horribly lacerated. But there will be time for questions later. Rest now, husband."
***
You aren't on your feet until the following evening, and even then, pain wracks your body. Your arms are cut, but thankfully none of them are terribly deep, and you feel as if you'll be able to use them normally in a month or two. Your ribs ache terribly, but the healer tells you that you might be back to yourself within a few months.
But the life of a Lord does not wait... you have a festival to plan, and you have to decide what to do with the carcass of the great bear you slew. What will you do in May?
Fantastic time to roll several sixes.
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Topic: Lordship: A Suggestion Game (Read 329330 times)