Zarif
The high-spirited quartermaster, bearing a cocksure, bordering on arrogant, grin trotted back to the group on the back of his mount, his Crossbow clicking as he readied another bolt. Given his shockingly successful deed of charging in alone leaving his unmounted comrades in the dust, as well as his ever-growing list of newly feathered foes, Zarif was feeling rather pleased with himself. He felt invincible, his foes merely walking targets for him to nail with bolt after bolt right between the eyes. Noone would begrudge his boasts of being the best fighter in the Hellions this night 'round the campfire, not even Siris, not this time.
CLICK.... THUD.
The cameleer's petulant smile froze on his face, as for just a brief moment, the battlefield seemed to go deathly silent. He knew those sounds all too well. He had made plenty of them mere moments before. His eyes grew solemn, grin washing off his face like tears in the rain. He sighed sadly, as he heard the corpse fall behind him.
Zarif was the only man in the Hellions trained to wield the strange "crossed bows" from the east. Before he even turned, he knew the bolt had been fired into one of his allies. The bronze plates of the large, quiet soldier gleamed so bright, reflecting the setting sun as he slumped motionless against the stone rails of the bridge. He had treated that armor with such care, polishing it each night diligently, without fail. Glitering like a second sun, his inert body blocked the bridge. Even now he guards his post, resolute...
Zarif: Rest now, oh sentinel. Your watch is over.
In truth, Zarif had not known the man very well. He never joined them for dice, and he needed little from the troop's supplies, given he took so good care of his gear. As such, he did not chase after the archer, as brave Siris did, impassioned at his comrade's fall. Besides, how could he rage against a man doing the same deed he had been gloating over a few moments past.
His face somber, Zarif instead turned towards the horseman, hacking savagely at Ashur and that blood of Enkidu, Lyun. He sighed again, his victories from earlier feeling far less sweet on his tongue now. Solemnly, he raised his crossbow.
CLICK.... THUD.... CLICK.... THUD.
CLICK.... THUD.
The cameleer's petulant smile froze on his face, as for just a brief moment, the battlefield seemed to go deathly silent. He knew those sounds all too well. He had made plenty of them mere moments before. His eyes grew solemn, grin washing off his face like tears in the rain. He sighed sadly, as he heard the corpse fall behind him.
Zarif was the only man in the Hellions trained to wield the strange "crossed bows" from the east. Before he even turned, he knew the bolt had been fired into one of his allies. The bronze plates of the large, quiet soldier gleamed so bright, reflecting the setting sun as he slumped motionless against the stone rails of the bridge. He had treated that armor with such care, polishing it each night diligently, without fail. Glitering like a second sun, his inert body blocked the bridge. Even now he guards his post, resolute...
Zarif: Rest now, oh sentinel. Your watch is over.
In truth, Zarif had not known the man very well. He never joined them for dice, and he needed little from the troop's supplies, given he took so good care of his gear. As such, he did not chase after the archer, as brave Siris did, impassioned at his comrade's fall. Besides, how could he rage against a man doing the same deed he had been gloating over a few moments past.
His face somber, Zarif instead turned towards the horseman, hacking savagely at Ashur and that blood of Enkidu, Lyun. He sighed again, his victories from earlier feeling far less sweet on his tongue now. Solemnly, he raised his crossbow.
CLICK.... THUD.... CLICK.... THUD.
Zarif moves one tile to L-24, and attacks SHEEV twice, defeating him. Zarif earns 70xp, and levels up!
