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5/19/2025, 8:23:19 PM
>>6244717
[2/2]
FFTH-CRACK! The musket fires true, with a nearly-imperceptible delay between the flash in the pan and the firing of the main charge.
The spearman's war cry is cut short in brutal fashion as the heavy slug of lead effortlessly passes through the center of his square shield and hits him directly in the chest with a meaty smacking sound. His momentum carries him forward as he falls to the ground, twitching, the only sound you hear being a faint gurgling noise. Another bolt whistles through the woods as the crossbowman continues to loose arrows into the darkness, blindly. You can hear him shouting a word, perhaps the spearman's name, repeatedly. Panic drips from his voice. You notice that you no longer hear the cries of the raider in the red turban.
Shifting positions once again, you reload with the alacrity afforded by the knowledge that the spearman is no longer trying to catch you on the back foot while doing so. The crossbowman ceases calling for his fallen ally, and bolts stop buzzing through the bushes at random. Having left the illumination of the campfire, you're unable to see what he does next. Will he try to aid his wounded leader? Is he laying in ambush, waiting for you to emerge? Did he just run off for help? There's no way of telling for sure through the newly-shifted banks of the fog of war. The darkness surrounding you is now total, with the only light to guide you being the campfire and the picturesque field of stars up above.
With the fight now being one against one (or perhaps, still two?), you grip your reloaded weapon tightly and decide on what to do next.
Do you:
>Stalk.
>Wait.
>Rush.
>Do something else... (Write In)
[2/2]
FFTH-CRACK! The musket fires true, with a nearly-imperceptible delay between the flash in the pan and the firing of the main charge.
The spearman's war cry is cut short in brutal fashion as the heavy slug of lead effortlessly passes through the center of his square shield and hits him directly in the chest with a meaty smacking sound. His momentum carries him forward as he falls to the ground, twitching, the only sound you hear being a faint gurgling noise. Another bolt whistles through the woods as the crossbowman continues to loose arrows into the darkness, blindly. You can hear him shouting a word, perhaps the spearman's name, repeatedly. Panic drips from his voice. You notice that you no longer hear the cries of the raider in the red turban.
Shifting positions once again, you reload with the alacrity afforded by the knowledge that the spearman is no longer trying to catch you on the back foot while doing so. The crossbowman ceases calling for his fallen ally, and bolts stop buzzing through the bushes at random. Having left the illumination of the campfire, you're unable to see what he does next. Will he try to aid his wounded leader? Is he laying in ambush, waiting for you to emerge? Did he just run off for help? There's no way of telling for sure through the newly-shifted banks of the fog of war. The darkness surrounding you is now total, with the only light to guide you being the campfire and the picturesque field of stars up above.
With the fight now being one against one (or perhaps, still two?), you grip your reloaded weapon tightly and decide on what to do next.
Do you:
>Stalk.
>Wait.
>Rush.
>Do something else... (Write In)
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