Stupid Games, Stupid Prizes
You slowly back up, looking around to find some high ground. Considering you're in the middle of the market, there aren't any buildings to climb on, but you can improvise. Some of the salesmen use caravans, fortunately, and sidestep onto the wall, and climb on top. You keep eye-contact with these morons the entire time you do this. They didn't think of doing anything until you were already up there, and the owner of the caravan has already closed up his window. Looks like he prefers to avoid stabbings in his line of work...
I said, LEAVE! If you won't leave, get down here and fight!Fine, fine... I will leave after my business here is done. What are you idiots even doing?We are the Order of Cathung! The Forgotten God! We fight for honor and justice, and we will not allow evil to seep into our proud city!...Oh my god, I'm beset by a group of LARP-ers. Don't you dare disrespect us, you foul bitch!You didn't see the rock flying your way. You felt it, though. It struck you right against the face, making you recoil and grasp the offended area. You're bleeding... It must be a pretty deep gash to your temple. You rub it for a while as a eerie silence fills the marketplace. You stare them down on top of your caravan as the morons below seems to realize that they made a mistake. Some of them are taking some steps back, but the loudmouth at the front is already reaching down to grab another rock, so you make a gesture and flood him with necromantic energy. You can't animate anything that lives, of course, so you're just looking for stuff that doesn't. You finally manage to animate his hair, after a short search. You pull and twist the short hair that there is, which is sapping away your mana, but he start panicking and groaning in pain. He rips off his mask, revealing him to be rather young. He also has very short hair, meaning you're just pulling at his skin, essentially. You stop wasting mana, and yell.
YOU FINISHED!? OR SHOULD I SEE JUST HOW MUCH I CAN PULL, YOU LITTLE SLIME!? I SHOU-*GUHK*Your talking is interrupted by another glob of black goo coming out of your mouth. It's much less than last time, around a fist in size, but it sure doesn't look all that alright to the local onlookers. You do learn that very high-level necromancers can make people poop their pants. Provided those people ate meat beforehand. Disgusting.
Still, almost everybody has rapidly left the marketplace now, including two of the six troublemakers. Well, they're hiding, to be more precise, other than the boisterous man, who is leaning out of his cart and watching with wary interest.
Y-you show your true f-face then! Huh? Y-you can't even sta-stand being near a w-warrior of justice! Hahah.. Hah.. He looks pale, and throws another rock. He hits the caravan, but you've got your dander up. You jump down, landing on your eight legs without issue. The scratchy noise that comes from that is rather unnerving. You unsheathe your sword, and put up your shield as you walk closer. The few remaining masked morons quickly scamper away, leaving just the loudmouth standing there, holding his shortsword with his two hands. You talk as you slowly walk closer. He's back up as you advance.
Let me explain a couple things to you.
One... I have seen, fought and KILLED monsters that would leave you a gibbering wreck.The idiot falls down, and continues scampering backwards.
Two... I've been marked by some eldritch, slumbering god, so I won't be able to ever relax again.He is blocked by some barrels, leaving him with nothing left to go. His shaking hand is still clutching his sword.
Three... I didn't get out of that shit unscathed. I still have nightmares, visions, flashbacks...The moron has dropped his sword now, raising his hands in defence. You put away your sword, and pick him up by the collar. Your life of training has left you with enough strength to lift him easily.
So tell me... Why. The FUCK. Should I let you walk away from this?A threatening hiss is present in your voice. Clearly, you've been holding back some rage for a while now. You don't know what you were getting ready for, but a massive hand suddenly engulfs your shoulder. A deep, booming voice resounds behind you.
Because that would cross the line from lawful self-defense to illegal assault. Let him go, girl. You've got better things to do.You recognize the voice. The owner is the story-telling man that was watching earlier. You decide to to follow his advice, and drop the man. He falls on his rump, and quickly scampers away.
Good. That'll prevent unneeded troubles. You're a clever girl, I can tell. Say, you should tell me your story, sometime. I could always use a little more material... Might even give you something for the trouble.Take him up on that offer right now.He seems like an interesting guy, besides.Get your cloth and go back to improving the barn.You came here to do something. If some squidfaces assholes tried to ruin that, they damn well failed.Just leave right now and make do without the cloth.You've stirred up enough trouble for today. It's probably best to just leave.OtherLevel: 5
HP: 20/20
Mana: 21/25
Stress: 00/100
Equipment:
Drider Shirt
Items:
Around 88 coins
Steel sword
Grassy iron shield
Old shirt
Leather armor(rough)
Magic:
Resurrect vermin: Allows you to resurrect very small creatures such as rats(1) (invests 1 of your max mana)
Reshape minion: Allows you to slightly change the appearance of your resurrected minions. (//////...)
Minion Vision(weak): Allows you to see what a minion sees. The minion must have eyes.
Animate Piece: Allows you to animate just a piece of dead tissue. It requires your constant attention, and cannot act independently. (invests one mana) (1)
Graft: Allows you to use dead tissue as a replacement limb. Requires a lot of mana. (2 per second)
Skills:
Poison Stinger (Potentially lethal)
Major experience in blocking and swords.
Climber
Crafty: Bolas
Cooking skill: excellent
Corpse Cutting: Awful.
Animal handling: inexperienced.
Necromantic knowledge