Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20170727174031/@comment-5583506-20170729184747

(Zoor, you are free to write your own battles, but note that I will occasionally toss an enemy or two against all of you in battle scenarios if I feel that you need the exercise.)

"Get ready to join her soon, midget!" growled the builder and swung his huge sledgehammer sideways.

Preacher stared up at Tanis with an accusing glare. "Tanis!" he growled. "No lethal attacks!"

The peasant Arona was fighting had his clothes set ablaze, but she would know that no lethal attacks were permitted. They may be fighters, but they were no killers. Such would be an easy ticket out of the Heroes' Guild. She would need to stop the fire somehow, no matter how she disliked these people.

"Get away from him, you freak!" a young man shouted approaching Vin from behind with a cudgel.

Another one eyed up Taera, having seen what she was able to do and so decided to raise his arm up towards his eyes to protect them in case of another light attack, as he advanced towards here with a thick branch.

Ylva received a blunt punch to the side of her face causing her to stagger for a brief moment before she returned the favor and bit into the arm of her attacker.

The man screamed and tried to get the presumable cannibal off from his arm.

"YLVA!" Preacher growled.

"Hmphhrgh?" the girl grumbled askingly, unable to open her mouth.

Preacher wasn't the slightest happy. Though she possessed the heroic trait, it didn't make her any less werewolf. She wasn't allowed to spread her condition onto others, as werewolves often did with bites and scratches.

She suddenly realised what she had done and backed off. "Oh, right. Sorry about that", she told the man. "You should put some canis root on the wound and rub it right in, that oughta cure the infection."

"Oh?" the man said in a inquisitive tone, cluthing to his arm. He seemed confused as to what had just happened. "Thanks?"

"You are welcome", Ylva smiled before knocking the man out completely with a sudden punch.

Diadros' seemed to do well for himself. The goons were piling up around him in plenty. Yet there were still more to go.

Bethany had been in the fight long enough to feel her own body weaken. She could barely take it anymore. She hadn't had anything to drink the entire day, yet all of a sudden, she could smell it everywhere. She could see it everywhere. On these folk, these "Mankind's Finest" as they called themselves. Their veins bursting with what she so desperately craved and desired, yet did not want to indulge herself to. Just hearing their own heartbeats inside her head, their blood rushing and pulsating around their bodies drove her insane. She was being pushed over her limit.

As a misguided farmhand raised a broomstick against her, she darted around the poor man, bent his neck backwards and opened her jaws wide to prepare herself for a feast, feeling how the young man's heart began to race away out of fear and dread.

For a third time Preacher lashed out at his students. "BETHANY!" he shouted. "Let him go!"

Bethany was pulled back from her sudden craze and felt her joints grow weak and limp, letting the terrified man out of her grasp to run away from her and into Jerus. Had she really been that close to sucking the man's blood? To rip his jugular out? She could feel herself trembling, slightly ashamed of what could've just happened.

Preacher just shook his head in disapproval and continued to force push some thugs into the fray.