Nice to see that throwing is still as fun as ever. I present the ongoing saga of Telsta Istrooma, crippled murderess. She began her noble journey by convincing two young lads to accompany her on a quest to slay a vile creature of the night, and allowed them to take the brunt of its attacks. Sadly, one of them also struck the final blow. Unamused by this, she lead them into a pool of water, where they promptly drowned. Donning their ill-fitting and surprisingly sweaty armor, she made for the nearest bandit camp. She snuck up, pelted two of the bandits with rocks, and made a hasty retreat into the hills, where she shot them down with her newly aquired bow. She attempted to do the same thing again, when she noticed an entire flock of ravens being shot from the sky in moments. Perhaps stupidly, she continued toward the camp. Not perhaps. Several minutes later, she awoke beneath a rather large oak tree, her body pincushioned by crossbow bolts. A voice rang out, "I am Angir Talltwinkled, prepare to die!"
In another bout of foolishness, she pulled herself around the tree and made faces at the bandit captain as he riddled her with still more bolts. Suddenly, he ceased fire and charged forward, out of ammunition. Time and again he tried to bash her skull in, time and again she rolled agilely away, making wild swings at his ankles with her dull copper spears. They were at an stalemate; he was too slow to strike her, she was too crippled to reach anything vital. Suddenly, a break: a bandit wielding a whip scrambled up the embankment, charging for her. Telsta pulled a silver halberd from her surprisingly roomy backpack, throwing it with great grace and skill toward the oncoming bandit. It missed, entirely. Instead of her intended target, it took the bandit captain's left forearm clean off!
As the captain stumbled away, weak from blood loss-
Hah, weakling-the lasher continued toward her. It quickly became apparent that he was no more skilled at close combat than the captain, and Telsta had become weary of games. She pulled shields, bows, daggers, and arrows from her backpack, flinging each at the frustrated bandit. He still stood. She turned to her last resort, drawing out dozens of small chunks of rocks, one by one, flinging them at the tiring lasher. After nearly an hour, the minor wounds, broken bones, and pure exhaustion took him into unconsciousness. Ever the sporting fighter, Telsta pulled herself over to his prone body and began stabbing him with her spears, avoiding his head and heart, attempting to inflict as many non-fatal wounds as possible. Sadly, he bled out rather quickly. Still, this allowed her to pursue the bandit captain, whom she found a short distance away, collapsed in a pool of his own blood. She pulled a final item from her backpack: his severed arm. With a single, awkward overarm throw, she crushed his skull and crawled away under a hail of bolts from two apparently functionally retarded bandits who had been sitting on their fat arses for close to two hours as their friends died less than twenty meters away. She submerged herself in a pool for several minutes until they became bored and left, then crawled out to collect her weapons and her thoughts.
So remember children, if it is late at night, and you hear scratching at the door, do not answer, for it is not Mittens. No, it is Telsta Istrooma, the paralyzed killer, reaching desperately for your doorknob.
(Yeah, still alive and kickin'. Only time will tell how many of those "permanent" injuries will heal, but either way, she'll have some truly badass scars.)
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Topic: What's going on in your adventure? (Read 2124578 times)