Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Faces In The Dark

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    Mortis
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Sun Jan 22, 2017 6:24 pm

    ”SSssss!” Mortis’ frustrations were voiced sharply as he attempted to pry the damnable creature from the beam overhead.

    He focused, and pulled, and tugged... But in the end the wendigo remained up on the beam, still contorted around to stare down at him from its perch above him. Another bout of aggravated hissing puffed from the undead superfiend like steam from a boiling kettle, the once fearsome dark judge had been forced to resign to pace about beneath the skinny intruder like a hungry beast.

    ...Or was he?

    Refusing to let this oddly cheeky dark supernatural entity lord over him from the ceiling like an emaciated monkey The undead turned his attention back towards the hay bale. It was still sitting near the barn doors, right where the two squabbling supernatural entities had left it. A plan came to mind, as Mortis pushed aside the edge of his overcoat to reveal the rotten green pouches of his utility belt. Even in the near dark of the barn, the silver bat-winged skull that was his belt buckle managed to produce a slight shimmer. Yellowed talons hooked themselves beneath the flap of one pouch and flipped it open. They reached inside like ghastly tweezers, and retrieved a familiar, yet old trinket that had been forgotten within it as of late.

    A glazed over, dead eye, its surface was marred with red lines of burst blood vessels that had long since coagulated. A few nerve endings still hung from the back it, dried from age, and frayed from the trauma that had followed the eye’s retrieval.

    Gingerly Mortis brought the eye up to an empty eye socket, and pressed the delicate organ inside with care. A wet pop announced that it had been successfully placed. The moment the eyeball came to sit in the sheep-skull’s socket, the pupil dilated and contracted, rolling grotesquely where it had been lodged before focusing itself upon the wendigo. Beneath a misty film of cataracts, and if the wendigo looked closely it would find its pupil carried the same unnatural glow that burned dully within his orbital sockets when they were empty.

    ”I think you underessstimate me.” The superfiend hissed, the dead eye flicked its attention towards the hay bale once again.

    Long talons deftly reached back and plucked the bale off the floor by its twine ties. His arm wound itself back as she turned to look at the wendigo once again. Then, in a blur and a snap of cloth and decayed flesh, Mortis whipped the hay bale at the emaciated pale corpse like a grassy rocket.





    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/108 -2AP

    Power: None
    Weapon: None
    Trinket: Assassin's Eye (accuracy enhancer): Adds +1 coin to Judge Mortis' melee attacks
    Cooldown: Domination, 4 turns
    Target: Wendigo

    Action: Trying to knock the wendigo down from the ceiling with a hay bale, only one coin needs to hit to succeed


    Last edited by Mortis on Sun Jan 22, 2017 6:25 pm; edited 1 time in total
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by System on Sun Jan 22, 2017 6:24 pm

    The member 'Mortis' has done the following action : Dice Rolls


    #1 'Coin Flip' :


    --------------------------------

    #2 'Attack/Heal (56-60)' : 24
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Sun Jan 22, 2017 6:55 pm

    Despite the undead’s best attempts, the wendigo did indeed remain firmly latched onto the ceiling beam. It shook its head of the nauseating sensation of the other’s psychic power. Sickly eyes blinked more, flushing a translucent yellow slime from their edges. Likely this nasty pus was all that remained within its decaying tear ducts.

    ”What manner of foul magic did you think to set upon me, Mortis?” It irritably snapped. The wendigo’s retort sounded like a brisk whip of a winter wind. ”I am not some limp-willed mortal. You cannot command me!”

    Whatever it was, it evidently had not been enough to remove the cannibalistic entity from its perch. Clawed fingers flexed and grasped further up the beam, and the wendigo shifted itself from sitting under the beam to leering down at Mortis from the top of the wooden support. Another series of pops and crackled echoed about the top of the barn as the entity’s neck twisted back to its natural position, and it craned its skull-like face down to glare at the undead superfiend.

    He had produced an eye soon after, and set the decaying organ within his eye socket. So this spirit worked with fetishes and ritualistic trinkets? Certainly it could not be as powerful as it kept pretending to be, if it required the same materials as mere mortal shamans and wise-men. not that they were weak, but without their tools... They were easily slain. This one was likely no different.

    The wendigo’s sickly eyes trained themselves upon the trinket, a newfound confidence brimming in its starved ribs.

    ”You have it backwards, Mortis,” The wendigo hissed, flexing its claws upon the beam like a cat would in anticipation of pouncing. ”It is not I who underestimates you, but you who underestimates me.”

    It was a point that was deftly proven as the wendigo ducked out of the path of the hay bale. As the grassy projectile whipped overhead, the wendigo’s eyes snapped open wide and eager. Its spidery limbs launched it down from the beam with unnatural speed and power, and down came the wendigo into Mortis’ chest, its hands outstretched and curled into cruel, icy claws.




    Wendigo

    HP: ????

    Action: Tackling Mortis, 2c/2d


    Last edited by Universal NPC on Sun Jan 22, 2017 6:56 pm; edited 1 time in total
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by System on Sun Jan 22, 2017 6:55 pm

    The member 'Universal NPC' has done the following action : Dice Rolls


    #1 'Coin Flip' :


    --------------------------------

    #2 'Attack/Heal (26-30)' : 9, 29
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    Mortis
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    65/65  (65/65)
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    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Thu Jan 26, 2017 4:10 pm

    Magic? The undead superfiend used no magic. But, the line between mystical and supernatural was often one that blurred itself easily depending on one’s knowledge. Psychic ability could be mistaken for omniscience and arcane potency. However, the only magic that Mortis had ever been close to acquiring, was that of the Sisters’ dark rituals, spells and potions that paved the way to his state of undeath. Otherwise, the superfiend was his own being, and his powers often beyond that of mortal comprehension.

    Sometimes they were beyond his own comprehension.

    Much like the last time Mortis had attempted to knock over the skeletal intruder, the hay bale projectile failed to make its mark. It’s pale, emaciated body hunkered down, and the bale flew straight over the creature’s back. The single, rotten eye in Mortis’ eye socket contracted its pupil, the closest physical representation of the undead superfiend’s rage that anyone would ever see upon his face.

    But, there was one saving grace to the entire matter. Dark thoughts were overheard by an equally dark mind; shamans, wise-men, beings that were tightly bound to their spiritual tools and relics to slay evil in its many forms. The wendigo - foolishly- thought that his adversary was just as weak and dependent upon his trinkets as these old mystical men.

    It was difficult to hold back a curt laugh as the creature hissed that he underestimated it.

    Outside he could hear the growing excitement within the shuttered barn spread to his audience. All two of them. Their hooves stamped impatiently upon the frozen earth and sharp, heavy puffs grunted above the continuous moaning of the blizzard’s howling gale. While both Samhain and Angemort had been waiting in silence outside for most of the interaction, the muffled thuds and sneers of their master’s confrontation with the wendigo were beginning to grow agitating. Spiked, iron shoes scraped in a grating shrill upon the door, their owner- most likely Samhain, demanding to be let in. She could feel the wrath upon both of their minds, and nearly taste their bloody intentions. In due time she and her sister would be allowed to partake, but they would have to wait a little bit longer. Thus was the undead’s soothing thought, as he sought to diminish her excitement.

    In flash of ashen-white and black claws, the creature launched itself down from its perch. The creature’s intentions read clearly, Mortis sidestepped its attack, icy claws tearing into cold winter air and putrid malice where the undead superfiend once stood.

    There was a snap of Mortis’ sinewy limbs as withered flesh whipped down to sink their yellow, gnarled claws into the wendigo’s shoulders. His rotting touch set itself upon its pale flesh the moment his talons dug into it, though whether or not it would be effective remained to be seen. Claws scraped upon barely concealed bone as he effortlessly lifted the foul being, and flung him at the barn doors with all the strain that would be expected of someone throwing a hefty bag of leaves- though the wendigo would crash upon the doors like a sack of bricks.





    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/96 -12AP

    Power: None
    Weapon: Touch of Mortis 1c/3d per use 4 ap per attack
    Trinket: Assassin's Eye (accuracy enhancer): Adds +1 coin to Judge Mortis' melee attacks 2 AP per use
    Cooldown: Domination, 3 turns
    Target: Wendigo

    Action: Throwing the Wendigo through the barn doors.
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by System on Thu Jan 26, 2017 4:10 pm

    The member 'Mortis' has done the following action : Dice Rolls


    #1 'Coin Flip' :


    --------------------------------

    #2 'Attack/Heal (56-60)' : 30, 1, 50, 55, 44, 50
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Thu Jan 26, 2017 5:43 pm

    A sinking feeling settled itself within the wendigo’s body as it felt its claws collide with nothing. There was no soft crush of fabric under its fingers, or a hollow thud that often followed a solid collision into a ribcage. Where Mortis, Superfiend once stood, there was only the dusty ground and a putrid stink of decay that clung like a foul, rotten film to the inside of its gaping, surprised mouth.

    Dust flew up in a cloud as it fell to the barn floor, its momentum forcing the creature’s wiry body to crumple itself into a crouch. No sooner had it just registered that it had landed, however, there was a brisk snap of ancient, withered flesh and bone, and long claws hooked themselves into its back. Black blight spread from where Mortis’ talons had ripped into its body, and seemed to eat away at a sort of second skin. Bubbles of putrid gases pressed and pushed against its surface like air trapped under ice, until the frosty film sharply cracked split in spidery zig-zagging fractures under the pressure. Beneath it, frosty white skin split and peeled away like burning paper, the edges tainted a deep, rancid black and brown that happily raced from the puncture site to devour the rest of the wendigo’s back down to its bones. Where the decay traveled, pain seared its senses.

    ”Haaagh--!" It cried, breathless.

    It had not felt cold or pain, for years. It’s eyes widened to the point where they looked as if they would pop out of their sockets, and its bloodied mouth was stretched open in a breathless scream of pain. Adding insult to injury, the other dark entity lifted it up and flung him into the barn doors with a deafening smash of bone against wood.

    The latch gave way with the impact, and the wendigo’s momentum flung the barn doors open with a rattle and shudder of the thin wooden slats. Snow exploded from under the wendigo’s body as it landed face-first upon it. Finally, it was outside, it could escape! Shock clouded its mind as it struggled to get to its feet, limbs quivering from its wounds. The thought of furthering its brawl with the other dark spirit had fled its mind the moment it had registered that burning pain.

    It barely noticed the two massive figures that loomed in the dark.




    Wendigo

    DP: 35/0 -35
    HP: 350/155 -195

    Action: Thrown! No attacks
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Thu Jan 26, 2017 7:10 pm

    For the past twenty or so minutes, two inquisitive beings had almost literally kept their ears pressed to the barn doors. The Thing that had intruded upon their quiet home was cornered in the barn, and their Master was speaking with it. Depending on which steed one looked at, two very different views were presented for the situation.

    Angemort hovered by the door, dutifully following her master’s orders. He wanted her to stand by the door, and so she would. Her ears flicked back warily as she listened to the exchange. Most of it was a garble of words she was not familiar with, but Master’s mood and thoughts were enough for her to understand and keep up with the situation. She could hear thudding inside the barn, heavy things crashing and claws scuttling about.

    For her Master, she remained at the ready, but Samhain was visibly more enthused with the ordeal.

    Samhain ears were pinned as she stared down the door with her empty sockets, perhaps even through the red-painted wood and to the scene within. Every so often she dipped her head down and sniffed at the bottom of the door, pawing at the thin gap between it and the ground impatiently. Now that it had stopped trying to hide, she too could discern where it was. It had been on the floor, then on the wall, and then the ceiling- all while bothering Master and trying his patience.

    It was a foolish thing for The Thing to do. When his patience was tried, so was theirs. But Samhain would argue her patience was tried more, if she could.

    By the time their debate reached a head, the mare was about ready to leap through the flimsy door and rip the offending entity off the ceiling herself! Her hoof pawed the door eagerly, as if to remind Master that they were still ready and waiting for his command. Her enthusiasm was hardly diminished when he replied:

    Jussst a little longer, have patience.

    She nearly danced her way back from the door, hooves clapping upon the ground in a rhythmic beat. Samhain knew something good was going to happen within the next few moments, and she knew it had something to do with The Thing.

    Not a handful of seconds had passed before the barn doors were thrown open, and a pale, sickly looking creature crashed onto the snowy earth. Decay burned The Thing’s flesh where their Master had sank his claws into it, permanently rotting his handprint into its back. Even without his hands pressing their fetid touch into its flesh, the blight still quickly spread like an inky stain. They both loomed over The Thing as it tried to get to its feet, the howling wind whipping through Samhain’s mane and pulling at the thin flesh upon Angemort’s face. Though decay and time had robbed their faces of most of their flesh, both of the mares still managed to convey a piercing, judgmental stare.

    Samhain’s lip quivered, and pulled her rictus grin into a sneer. Their patience had paid off.

    Their verdict, for The Thing at their mighty hooves, was death.

    In unison, both of the mares jumped and reared, the spikes upon the bottom of their horse shoes glinting faintly in the dark. They brought their weight, their hard hooves, and the spiky footwear upon them, mercilessly down upon The Thing’s frail looking back. A thundering bass of a irregular beat was short lived, as soon snapping teeth joined in biting and tearing the hated thing apart.




    Samhain

    HP: 650/650

    Action: Mauling the Wendigo, 2c/6d
    Angemort

    HP:650/650

    Action: Mauling the Wendigo, 2c/6d




    Note: First row of attacks is from Samhain, second row is from Angemort
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by System on Thu Jan 26, 2017 7:10 pm

    The member 'Universal NPC' has done the following action : Dice Rolls


    #1 'Coin Flip' :


    --------------------------------

    #2 'Attack/Heal (56-60)' : 9, 10, 60, 41, 47, 52

    --------------------------------

    #3 'Coin Flip' :


    --------------------------------

    #4 'Attack/Heal (56-60)' : 7, 50, 3, 30, 43, 59
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    Mortis
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    65/65  (65/65)
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    650/650  (650/650)
    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Fri Jan 27, 2017 3:46 pm

    The barn doors gave way under the wendigo’s body, snapping open and rattling from the impact. Not only had the undead superfiend found that the creature was indeed not as evasive as it tended to think itself to be, evidently wendigos could indeed be decayed. But Mortis had not expected there to be that strange icy skin that layered itself over the entity’s leathery pale hide. A few flakes of it crumbled from his fingertips as it rotted away, crackling like thin ice in his grip.

    The old, rotting eye that sat within his eye socket flicked between the black, frosty dust upon his talons, to the severely wounded spiritual entity just outside. It was still reeling from the attack, and if it had the mental presence, perhaps it was rethinking what it had said about who was underestimating whom.

    Panicked thoughts of escape raced through his adversary’s mind, completely oblivious to the fact that Samhain and Angemort had been waiting outside the whole time they were arguing.
    Granted, Mortis had not exactly planned for the wendigo to be tossed out at their hooves, but the circumstances ended up favorable all the same.

    At least, they ended up favorably for him.

    No sooner had the wendigo thought to scramble to its feet and escape, both of the horses reared up and proceeded to stomp and bite the entity into a nearly unrecognizable bloody pulp. Perhaps a more merciful, caring soul would have intervened right away, perhaps at the very moment that a spiked, iron shoe slammed down upon the entity’s back. But after their little chat inside the barn, and the subsequent blatant attempt at assault, Mortis decidedly was a little slow to call off his steeds. He deliberately wandered forth from the barn’s darkened interior, savoring the sounds of bones snapping, vulnerable skin tearing, and the subtle protests of rupturing flesh.

    A word sat on the tip of his tongue as he leaned against the doorway of the barn and supervised. Oh, what was it again? Satiated? No... He crossed his arms and tapped a talon languidly upon the sleeve of his overcoat, his single eye focused upon the two mares as they went about their work. Or perhaps it was play, given their enthusiasm.

    An epiphany came to mind alongside another resounding crunch of iron slamming into fragile bone; Satisfying. Yes, that was the word he was looking for.

    It was satisfying to watch this arrogant thing eat its own words, and foolishly cram its own foot into its mouth.

    But, there was only so much of the wendigo to pulverize to begin with, and if they kept going, likely there would be nothing left to bury. He pushed himself off the door frame, and strode over to the two busy steeds.

    ”Ssssh, Angemort, Sssamhain. That will do my girlsss, that will do.” Mortis calmed.

    The two paused in their attack, heeding their master’s command. He approached as they picked up their heads, sending a wave of soothing thoughts their way to quell their agitation. Not much longer  after that, the two undead steeds stepped away from the wendigo, making way for Mortis to come and inspect the condition of the pale entity.

    The superfiend tilted his head as he stopped before its defeated form, considering it before picking up a foot and jabbing his clawed toes into its ribs.





    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/96 -0AP

    Power: None
    Weapon: None
    Trinket: None
    Cooldown: Domination, 2 turns
    Target: Wendigo

    Action: Investigating the Wendigo
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    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Universal NPC on Fri Jan 27, 2017 3:53 pm

    In the wake of its abrupt eviction from the barn, and the following barnyard beat down that had been given, there was not much left of the wendigo for Mortis to appraise.

    Massive teeth had ripped apart its limbs and tore gashes into its skin, and its back had been punched with a dense pattern of holes and horse-shoe prints from its neck down to its legs and hips. Its rail-thin limbs had been snapped multiple times over, and overall the remains of what was once the wendigo now was a beaten pulp of ashen flesh and black blood.

    There was no sound or stirring from the wendigo when Mortis prodded it with a foot.  It’s aura still lingered upon its broken body, failing to leave it like heat vacated a freshly dead corpse. perhaps in time it would go away, or maybe it would remain upon it for all eternity, a sign of the stains upon this evil creature’s being. It lay still and dead in the snow as the minutes slowly ticked by, moment by moment proving that it was indeed defeated.

    Now there was only the question of what to do with its carcass to consider.




    Wendigo

    DP: 35/0
    HP: 350/0 -332

    Action:Defeated!
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    Mortis
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    Stamina Bar:
    120/120  (120/120)

    Re: Faces In The Dark

    Post by Mortis on Fri Jan 27, 2017 4:00 pm

    Yellow clawed feet prodded and poked the wendigo’s ribs a few times, each inquiring tap producing the same answer. It had been successfully pulverized to death. There was no movement, no breath, not even a subtle sound of pain. There was only the steady trickle of black blood that spread ever further around the creature’s body in an oily puddle.

    ”It ssseemsss it really wasss you, who underessstimated me after all.” Mortis hissed to the battered carcass.

    He heard a low snort puff in his ear, and Mortis turned to find Samhain with her chin almost resting upon his shoulder. Her single ear was pointed in the direction of the carcass.

    Can I have the body, Master?

    Ah, of course. Samhain was not fully done with their latest find. The undead superfiend lifted his hand to her snout and gave the mare a small pat on the side of her jaw and rubbed her cheek. Alas, while it was tempting to simply let the animals have their way with the carcass, come morning Ombre would begin his flight in search of breakfast. The condor could stumble across it and think to eat it, or perhaps Woolie would find it while playing with Angemort.

    Not that the ewe would think to take a bite out of a wendigo, but Woolie was an inquisitive creature. Either of them could stick their nose in it.

    With the malice that radiated off of the entity’s body, Mortis pondered if perhaps either of the living animals at his home could grow sick from eating it, or even taking a few prolonged, curious sniffs. Given his limited knowledge on his defeated intruder, the undead superfiend thought it prudent to simply do away with any risk of them finding it in the first place. However, it would mean that Samhain would have to do without any extra time with the carcass.

    Alas, she would have to find another plaything.

    ”Not thisss time, I fear. We will be taking thisss one to the edge of the woodsss.” Mortis replied, and gave a consoling stroke upon the mare’s cheek.

    Samhain’s rictus grin pulled itself into a less jovial expression, and puffed a heavy sigh upon Mortis’ shoulder.

    ”Perhapsss another time?” He offered, but Samhain was having none of it.

    She pulled her head away from his comforting touches, both physical and mental, and ambled back to her sister’s side. They never got to keep any of the fun things that wandered onto their acreage. Mortis gave a soft, hissing sigh and scratched the back of his neck with a yellowed talon. The eye was retrieved from his socket soon after, its purpose fulfilled for the time being. Yellow, gnarled claws scooped out the decayed organ with a soft pop, and rolled it into his palm. The red glow that inhabited its pupil faded, and the eye itself returned to being a dead, grisly trophy. Pushing the edge of his coat aside, the undead superfiend flipped open the belt pocket he stored it in, and deposited it for future use.

    Empty eye sockets rested upon the corpse at his feet once more. With the ground being frozen over the for the winter, digging a grave for it would be difficult. There was of course the option of simply hiding it under a massive pile of snow, but Mortis doubted that Ombre would be deterred from digging it out and nibbling upon what flesh he could find. No, the best course of action was indeed to deposit it in the forest beyond the fence, where none of his animals at least would bother it.

    ”Angemort. He beckoned the skeletal-faced mare with a talon.

    Her ears pricked in his direction, and paused in grooming the fellow undead horse. She gave a parting nudge to Samhain, before turning and lumbering over to the sheep-skull headed undead. Already he had scooped up the wendigo’s body and slung it’s limp form over a shoulder. It was tossed up onto Angemort’s powerful shoulders soon after, and Mortis grasped the ridge of the mare’s exposed spine, using it as an aid to hop up onto her back.

    Make no mistake, having to straddle the sharp, hard edge of a horse’s spine without anything between it and the rider was a highly uncomfortable, perhaps even painful thing to do. But when one was undead, such discomforts were easily brushed aside. He could not feel the bone biting into his host at all. It did not even give him a nip or nibble of pain.

    One hand rested on the wendigo carcass to keep it on her back, and he mentally urged her forward towards the back of the property. She gladly brought herself to trot through the snow and whipping blizzard gale, her heavy hooves and powerful limbs plowing a path through the substance.

    Once it was disposed of, he would return to the house and give both bird and sheep the good news. But before he did, the undead superfiend decided it worthwhile to keep a little something from the dark entity- a trophy.

    It was not that the being was exactly a worthy foe, or even a challenge; but it was also not everyday that he came across something along the lines of a wendigo. It would be worthwhile to keep something around to remember the encounter.

    His sights settled themselves upon one of its sickly eyes. With the rest of its body badly damaged, the ghoul saw little worth in trying to preserve its hide, and attempting to take something like a finger or a tooth was a tedious process.

    The moment Angemort hopped the fence, or more stepped over it, and they were a shallow depth into the woods, Mortis pulled the bleeding carcass off his horse’s back and tossed it into the woods. But not before carefully taking a glazed, red eye from its sunken socket.






    Mortis
    DP: 65/65
    HP: 650/650
    AP: 120/96 -0AP

    Power: None
    Weapon: None
    Trinket: None
    Cooldown: Domination, 1 turns
    Target: Wendigo

    Action: Disposing of the Wendigo in the woods, and taking a trophy.




    New Item!: A Sickly Wendigo Eye has been added to Mortis' inventory.

      Current date/time is Mon Sep 25, 2017 2:46 pm