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Post by Eoric Applehouse on May 13, 2019 21:54:12 GMT 1
A Wound will soak up all damage, so you’re fine still.
If you want to go unconscious rather than yield that’s fine with me at least.
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Post by Trystane Sand on May 13, 2019 22:00:40 GMT 1
It proves to be the last and decisive blow, as Trystane's vision bursts with bright white light for a fraction of an instant, then goes dark. His sword slides from his hand, thumping flatly onto the ground, followed by Trystane, as he drops from Bard's saddle like a sack of rocks, limp from unconsciousness.
His squire, Quentyn, is the first to reach him. The lad calls urgently for a stretcher, his face paling when he sees blood leaking from Trystane's visor. He does all he can not to look at Eoric, lest he show in his face what he thinks of the man.
Taking last Wound to ignore the damage, but Trystane is knocked unconscious.
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Post by Eoric Applehouse on May 13, 2019 23:26:46 GMT 1
As the dornish bastard slumps from his saddle, Eoric sags in his. For a moment he is quiet and still, seeming almost to be lost himself.
Then his breastplates starts heaving up and down. Gently first then more and more violently. Rhythmically his whole body starts to shake as what is first a faint whisper grows to a coughing hiss. A hollow, wheezing laughter, like the death rattles of some spiteful demon can be heard from the still armoured man. With the aid of Robb, he slides of his mount, removes his helm and whilst almost collapsing upon the ground, he continues to laugh. The sound is as ugly as the little man himself.
”Fuckinghells” he slurs, propped up by his nephew, much younger yet all ready half a head taller. ”Fuckingdornishbastards...” he doesn’t bother to check how his opponent has fared - hopefully the fucker is dead, one less of them, he might have said if he could form sentences. Instead he turns to his men and whatever few knights of those gathered that might enjoy this moment and raising his helm in the air he roars coarsely and incoherently.
He is met with equal fevour by those who dare. The Knights of the Reach will never submit to these vultures, foreign invaders and rapers.
The many more, those who hoped to see justice done and the honour of a murdered maiden upheld, are silent.
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