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[Twinwolf]

"Hey, Damon!" Rosalia shouts - presuming this happened before her movement - "We're down this way for a reason! We saw some odd tiles on the ground, and the hollows were avoiding them, so we think it's a trap down there."

[Tiruin]

"Those were my thoughts too, Rosalia! But now that we're safe to check, and that we've got good healers nearby, maybe we can test it if they really are traps and not just coincidentally measured shapes on the ground...also I got attacked across the 'trap' so I couldn't really be sure."

[SOLDIER First]

"What? ...Oh. Damn. Thank you, miss Rosalia."

[GiglameshDespair]

Code: (Rosalia vs Hollow Mage A) [Select]

Showing off activates!

Hit: 101-10=91
Roll: 92, miss!

Hollow Mage retaliates!
Hit: 112 -18=94
Roll: 5
Crit: no
Dam: 9-3=6

Rosalia doubles!
Hit: 91
Roll: 23
Crit: 13+10-2=21
Roll: 10, crit!
Dam: 11-0=11x3=33
Rosalia's first arrow misses, and a slice of wind lashes her. Perhaps the pain lets her focus, as her next shot lands perfectly in the monster's eye socket.
Her bow creaks alarmingly, the training bow having suffered much stronger mistreatment than it had ever been intended for.

Code: (Sacha heals Generally Injured) [Select]

18hp restored!


Code: (Yilda heals Alain) [Select]

Fully healed!
Wounds are healed.

- Enemy Phase -

Everything nearby is dead again.

- The Caves -
Turn 15

EXP: 33/100
Souls: 590

Spoiler: HP (click to show/hide)

Rosalia [Twinwolf] 14/19
Damon [Sentient Bowtie] 21/24
Yilda [BMM42] 18/18
Typhos [Sirus] 18/18
Sacha [Nerjin] 20/20
Alain [Tiruin] 20/20
Ariston [SC] 22/24

Enemy stats here
Ramosian spearman A: -12/24
Ramosian spearman B: 0/24
Ramosian spearman C: -3/24
Ramosian spearman D: 24/24

Ynidus' Swordswoman A: 3/23
Ynidus' Swordswoman B: -10/23
Ynidus' Swordswoman C: -3/23
Ynidus' Swordswoman D: 23/23

Ramosian brute A: -6/26
Ramosian brute B: -4/26
Ramosian brute C: 26/26
Ramosian brute D: 26/26

Hollow Mage A: -21/21
Hollow Mage B: 21/21
Hollow Mage C: 21/21
Hollow Mage D: 21/21

Mushroom Hollow: 0/26
Skeleton: -1/27

Cracked Wall A (R11): 0/20, 2 DR
Cracked Wall B (R13): 0/20, 2 DR

[Blade Master Model 42]

C,12

[Twinwolf]

"Going to need a new bow soon..."

E11

[Dwarmin]

E10

[SeriousConcentrate]

"Miss Alain, I think I see the embers of a bonfire. Care to back me up?"

Ariston to F8.

[Nerjin]

"I'm growing tired of these tunnels."

Move to C10

Spoiler: Charisma (click to show/hide)

Affected:
Everyone

[Dwarmin]

"I'm growing tired of these tunnels."

Typhos sighs, letting go of a bit more of his humanity with every breath.

"...The tunnels never end. They just go on and on. Cold, cold and dark, they just go on forever..." He says, mournfully.

His words are quiet, and he speaks to no one in particular-his words almost seem directed to the darkness ahead-it's not even clear if he's really speaking to himself.

[SOLDIER First]

"As am I. I prefer fresh air, personally."

"...Typhos, are you all right?"

[Dwarmin]

"...Typhos, are you all right?"

Typhos seems to freeze for a moment, looking away, as if sorting out his words carefully-out of character for one usually so open and honest. After a moment, he turns back to Damon, with a clearly strained smile.

"...It is nothing, truly. Do not worry, my friend. It's merely that these caverns...they weigh on my soul. They remind me of home, as odd as it may sound. " He says, gaining some measure of steadiness in his voice.

"Did I ever tell you of my home, Tristram?" He says honestly, not trying very hard to hide the fact he wishes to change the substance of the conversation.

[SOLDIER First]

Damon shakes his head, puzzled.

He also moves to [C, 16]

[Dwarmin]

Typhos nods, and begins.

"It's an old city, with a long and harsh history-my parents said the foundations of Tristram were filled with old bones...only half in jest, I suspect. You wouldn't believe the stories...would you? In truth, it's a city built on the bones of city that came before it, which was built on even older bones from before that..." He says absently. His words become disjointed and somewhat rambling as he continues, as he has forgotten who he is talking to, or why he was talking. All in all, the effect is somewhat unsettling.

"There's many old bones in Tristram, underneath-caverns, crypts, tombs, dungeons-if you're being dramatic...Most have become root cellars for vegetables and wine, these days, but there are deeper places than even those...a stone rim around the the entirety of the village...it was once a wall, I believe, that went around the whole town and protected it from the bones. I once spent a week digging to see if I could find any bones at the bottom...no luck...Tristram isn't a lucky place..."

[Dwarmin]

Typhos continues after a sudden stop, speaking a bit more clearly now.

"Rambling, forgive me. The air, here, very poor...smells of death...

Anyway, there are many sorts of deep places in Tristram, places I once ventured in as a child-when I fancied myself a hero...I would escape my many keepers, my family-we were wealthy and we had to be seen a certain way...

I would go Alone.

Only wielding only my tiny little candle to light the way, and a piece of wood sliding fashioned into my sword...every shadow, a lurking monster I would slay to keep my friends safe in the night, every wink of sunlight slanting through the earthen ceiling-for I was not brave enough to go lower, too much of a coward-leading to some great hall filled with lost knowledge, or perhaps a Princess to save, or maybe a mighty Dragon snoozing on his hoard of coins...like in my stories." His words sound almost unbearably sad, melancholic.

"...Childhood dreams always remain distant things, I suppose. I never became a hero. I took the path my family offered, the easier one. Was I a fool to do that, or do I pine needlessly? I, who had so much, without effort-while so many others had so few.

Even now, so many suffer, or linger in darkness as undead, cursed to go without the balm of true sleep-while I am still here, and myself. I should not despair..." His voice trails off, leaving the rumination unresolved.