Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20160330235226/@comment-5543592-20160402223004

Crimson warily rose, body aching. He glanced around the room from his hands and knee, before slowly standing up. He felt at his face. He couldn't bleed, but that didn't mean his skin couldn't break. Sure enough, there was a nice gash underneath his eye. He couldn't feel it, however. Another side effect of his illness.

He'd need to come up with some strategy to fight her again, if there was a next time. It was difficult for a swordsman to conventionally defeat magic-wielders. The most common strategy was to press them, as so that they couldn't cast, but that hadn't worked. At all. He'd gotten his butt handed to him and she had gotten a small booboo.

"Master Ishien would be disappointed." Crimson noted to himself, sticking his sword back in it's sheath. But then, he hated Master Ishien, so he wondered why it was that thought that had popped into his mind. That was one reason he had avoided using the weapon. It brought up things Crimson wanted to forget.

He pulled his bow from it's sheath again, drew another arrow, and proceeded out of the room, to investigate the crash.