Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20180220143037/@comment-24736819-20180329000851

(Dude, I don't know where you're seeing that bottleneck, because besides the gates to enter the city, Whiterun's surroundings are pretty...empty. Sure, it's uphill to get there, which provides a marvellous view for its defendants, but other than that... Also, when I said other projectiles I thought there were scorpions an such, not just catapults.)

The Sisters on the gate had formed a shield barrier, so the oil only managed to besmear the shields. The women warriors were apparently very resistant to the injuries that came from holding the shields while the oil was poured on top of them, with only a couple breaking formation.

The old man was oddly nimble for someone that looked like he was dying from a horrible disease, so he managed to avoid most of the arrows... most of them. One of the arrows fired from the nords atop the watchtowers stuck itself in his shoulder and was quickly answered with an inhuman growl.

Pan followed the arrow's trajectory back to its archer with his eyes and mouthed the words, "Shouldn't have done that."

It was then that his transformation begun.