• Mature • [Eastern Gauthrel][G]Pups on their own, Part 2: Food

Trial of the survivor for the Jeger #2 (gore)

The Gauthrel Plains reach from the coasts of western Idalos to the very edge of Ne'haer before meeting the forests surrounding Hiladrith. The Fields of Gauthrel can be a dangerous place, one that is home to the most deadliest of creatures. It holds many secrets in the history of the land and may offer rewards to those who choose to journey out into the wild plains. It is best not to wander out alone in these fields. Even caravans have been known to go missing.

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[Eastern Gauthrel][G]Pups on their own, Part 2: Food

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60th Ymdien 717


The Lothar's wrists still hurt from the rope burn he suffered on the way here, if he'd removed it as soon as he'd snapped it, maybe it wouldn't have gotten so bad. Red bands of dried skin as well as small dots of red coated his wrists, heralding the soreness of the skin. There was nothing that could be done for it now besides keeping it clean and waiting for it to heal naturally. He looked to his beloved, who had been spared from the burns with his quick action in removing the rope before he even awoke.

Just a break or so ago, the pair had awoken alone in the woods, this was their trial. they'd conquered the first of their hurdles and found water, next they needed food. The hunger within him was real, twisting and churning in his gut, reminding him of just how badly he needed to eat. Like he'd said before, a hungry wolf fought harder. Just the same, he felt his bodies desire, the taste of blood that tickled his senses reminded him of what he could have if he just pushed himself a little further.

It was a psychotic hunger for raw flesh and meat, one that he sought to satiate with the bodies of animals, as he always did. Only nowatrials, he was in Gauthrel. Shakily, his claws tapped together as the duo walked along the creek. His hair had frizzed and become unkempt with his exposure to the elements already, though he made the effort to keep it under his ponytail. Fridgar looked to his beloved, the walk had been silent as they conserved energy, which wasn't a good sign. Morale needed to be raised if they were to make it out of this alive. "My rose," he addressed his beloved as they climbed the slight hill.

being the heavier of the two, he was stood behind his mate as they walked. if he lost footing, he wouldn't crush Alistair or anything, where as if Alistair lost his footing, as unlikely as it was, Fridgar could stop his descent and help him back up. "It can't be too much further now, we're close, I can feel it," he spoke his words of encouragement, reminding Alistair that there was a reward at the end of their hard work.

On him, he carried his loincloth, two damp bags and a meter length of rope that had been tied in to places. Alistair had his own loincloth and his spear, the one weapon that the Jeger had let them. It was a boiling hot sunny trial, so Fridgar wasn't too distressed about wearing nothing but his loincloth, though his feet hadn't calloused enough to adjust to the bare floor of the forest just yet. The soles of his hind paws feet were still quite sensitive.

When at last the pair reached the top of the hill, Fridgar had begun to sweat quite heavily from his brow, looking to Alistair, he wouldn't be much better off either. "Maybe you should let me carry the spear for a bit?" Fridgar offered with a sincere look in his eyes. "In all seriousness, you're carrying too much, my love. Please, let me carry it for a while? There's no good in having you exhausted," if either of them should fall, they would drag the other down. For each other, they had to keep going.

For the most part, the duo travelled under the shade of the canopy. The earth was hard under their feet and offered little cushioning for the impact of feet. As bad as Fridgar wanted to bitch about the heat, he knew it wouldn't help the morale between the two, so he kept it to himself.

Soon enough, the sounding of rushing water could be heard. Fridgar's ears perked as he listened up ahead. before long, a great big river would come into view, though it was only an offshoot of the Rindlokk Elv, a giant river that stretched across the eastern territories. They'd seen it while flying in from Ne'haer. Fridgar immediately scanned the river banks, searching for any sign of wildlife that they may hunt and kill. No beast could be found by the hungry Lothar just yet, but a hungry beast had found the Lothar and the human.
Last edited by Varthakh on Mon Jul 03, 2017 7:27 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 738
Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.
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[Eastern Gauthrel]Pups on their own, Part 2: Food

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It wasn't that Alistair's morale was low, he was just... phasing out. Not paying attention to anything, conserving his energy - allegedly - by not thinking. He focused on the feeling of the wind on his back, and the chirping of birds high in the trees where most predators wouldn't bother trying to reach. This was how he endured situations like this - he didn't think, he just went on. Days without hunger, time without rest. When Fridgar's voice broke through the silence, Alistair's ears twitched and his eyes widened, snapping out of his hungry daze. "Huh?" he asked. He didn't really receive the words at first, but then my rose came into his thoughts.

My Rose. A smile perked on his lips, as he called to his mate, "My thorn." They had to climb a hill. This wouldn't be too hard, really. Even though Alistair was hungry, he had strong vitality and notable endurance. It wasn't like he'd become sloppy or incapable of maneuvering, just... weakened some. But still, he was an acrobat, and a bloody good one at that. Now was a good time to show off to his mate, as the mage threw his spear to the top of the small hill in a stunning throw, and quickly climbed the hill before them. Stepping and ascending with every little opportunity, Alistair used his acrobatic mobility and reflexes to supplement his climbing capability. Coming up to the center of the hill from below, he cartwheeled forward, despite the danger in doing so.

When all was said and done, he'd probably burned through some of his energy, but his morale was certainly boosted. Alistair had recently realized that he'd loved dancing around like some monk, and using his mind to energize him into a stupor was as good a way as any to keep alive through all this angst. "Fridgar, did you see that forward cartwheel?!" the Baron asked, juvenile beyond his regular self, with an excitable expression across his lips and cheeks. "Those are so hard to do when climbing up a hill. I honestly could've died there," he said, grinning, as if that were funny.

Maybe he was going crazy -- or maybe he was having way too much fun. Whatever the case, he picked up his spear from the ground and kept on, before his mate offered to carry it. Fridgar was so gallant. The more he'd spent time with him in situations like this, the more he realized his gallantry. Always and every trial, he looked for ways to be good to his lover - lessen the burden, give him his shoulder, lend him strength. Alistair stepped forward and kissed his mate on the lips, wrapping his arms around him as tightly as he could.

"I love you so much, Fridgar. You're too good to me," he whispered, basking in the warmth of his mate as Fridgar's sweat-stained body pressed into Alistair's surprisingly unmarred chest. It was hot, but he didn't care - Fridgar was so warm and strong... and snuggly.

"I can hold my own spear, don't worry," he said, nodding. "In a forced march, warriors have to endure things like this, carrying heavy gear whilst hungry and made to thirst. I want to be strong like them, my love," the noble stated. "But you can carry my loincloth, if you want," he added, with a wink. Somehow, this whole thing had made Alistair more jovial. Was this how he coped? Or was this a result of his surprising love of Gauthrel's danger and peril, amidst the beautiful outdoors?

Unsure himself, he kept going, beneath the shade of the canopy and with the attention of his mate as he walked in front of them. Finally, they found a real river - an offshoot from Rinlokk Elv, the massive river they'd flew over whilst coming into Uthaldria. This one was still very large, and was sure to have animals and beasts feeding from it, and fighting for survival around its midst.

Alistair turned back to his mate and nodded. "My Thorn," he addressed his beloved, "Let's go terrorize some innocent animals."
Last edited by Alistair on Mon Jul 03, 2017 3:30 am, edited 2 times in total. word count: 702
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[Eastern Gauthrel]Pups on their own, Part 2: Food

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As they climbed the hill, Fridgar found that the hunger in his gut, the hollowness, not only did it urge him to fight harder, but he could feel himself growing more aggressive, angry. This revealed itself to him as Alistair flitted about, practising his acrobatics. Somehow, the human, his mate, was beginning to irritate him? Whatever, he'd been preaching morale for the entirety of their ascent, to turn around and scald his beloved for making light of the situation now would be like giving mixed signals, big time.

He simply looked to Alistair with weary eyes, speaking somewhat unamused "Alistair, please be careful..." before he realised that the hunger was probably getting to him, widening his eyes with shock. "Alistair stop!" Fridgar forbade. "Pulling off stunt and jumping all over the place is only gonna burn away food that you don't have. Do you know what happens then?" Fridgar asked, grave. "Your body cannibalises itself, chews down on your muscle first, then your fat reserves. It's a straight up way to lose weight, but none of it fat. Please don't do anything strenuous on an empty stomach, my love. I don't want you wasting away," he spoke with concern and mild panic.

If Alistair continued, then Fridgar may very well have to resort to trying to disarm his beloved, which he really didn't want to do in fear of getting wrecked. Whatever the case, Alistair would behave whether by force or by compliance. "Be like the wolf, my love, but don't waste all that energy," he referred to what he'd said earlier about wolves fighting harder. This was especially concerning as Alistair wouldn't be able to eat for the next twenty-four breaks or more, depending on how soon they found an edible creature. he kept his eyes open as they ascended.

He would smile softly, though it was weak. "I love you too, my dear. Please don't hesitate to ask if you get tired though," he enforced while the climbed. Fridgar would look to the man with a raised eyebrow and flushed cheeks as he suggested handing over his loincloth. Fridgar would immediately distract himself to redirect the blood flow from his lower region to more useful parts of his body. Alistair wasn't taking this seriously, not at all. Morale wouldn't be a problem in that state of mind, not yet anyway. Come the night, Alistair would barely be able to sleep with the stomach cramps he'd be facing if he persisted on wasting his energy like he had been.

When at last they reached the top, Fridgar scanned for food before giving up and approaching the water's edge as it flowed steadily by. The river wasn't too rapid, though the crashing of a waterfall could be seen and heard in the distance, further upstream to their left while a series of creeks broke off to their right and the river lead to a sheer drop, likely leading to another waterfall. Sighing, Fridgar knelt by the water and filled the bags he'd acquired to the brim. holding out his paw, he offered Alistair one of the bags, a chance to rehydrate for them both. Fridgar would sigh, satisfied with the quenching of his thirst.

"I'm telling you, Alistair, there's something good in the water here," Fridgar smiled to his mate, rolling his eyes as he took on a mouthful of perhaps the best water he'd ever tasted, save for the creek water from half a break ago. Once he was completely Hydrated, Fridgar stood and turned, catching sight of movement in the brush behind them. Fridgar froze and glanced to Alistair with concern. "Ali," he spoke suddenly, nodding his head to the brush that had wavered. Fridgar would step up from the bank and carefully take a few steps toward the bush before lowering his body, ready to jump back and assume his stance if need be.

As he approached the oversized flora, a low growl could be heard rumbling in the nearby forest as he approached, though it was subtle. His approach slowed to a crawl as he neared the waiting predator. Suddenly, the beast would turn and bolt into the shaded woods. All Fridgar had seen was the tanned fur of some sort of large land mammal, but he recognised the growling and the roaring too. Alistair would have also, it was the Scython-Ur.

Neither would realise their hunting tactic in time, however, especially not as two other Scython leaped the narrow creek and rushed Fridgar from the left, one pouncing him while the other slashed violently at Alistair. All Fridgar could muster as he realised what was going on was the talk under his breath "Clever girl..."
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Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.
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[Eastern Gauthrel]Pups on their own, Part 2: Food

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Fridgar chastised him. As he yelled for the mage to stop, Alistair quickly turned back to look at his lover in worry, losing his focus and balance and stumping down. Losing his footing, the mage skid down the hill until he met Fridgar, dirt and grass covering his side as a burning sensation covered him. He yelled in a mixture of pain and surprise, though the pain was light compared to the shock of falling.

When Fridgar yelled for him to stop, the mage did so immediately, his instinctive reaction imagining that something dangerous was up ahead. He was wrong - Fridgar just wanted to tell him of the dietary issues concerning muscle loss at the hands of over-exertion on an empty stomach. The mage winced - his excitement and playfulness dissipated in an instant, and with a grim look he stood, patting himself off and continuing onward.

"I'm not that hungry," he told Fridgar, clearly bothered by his reprimanding. "And besides, you realize I'm probably one of the best doctors in Gauthrel, right? I'm not going to ignorantly waste away. I was playing around to give myself enthusiasm, energy. The mind can be just as instrumental as the body in helping someone to survive." He did not say anything callous to Fridgar, nor did he chastise him for doing the same. He knew Fridgar only spoke out of concern, but the concern was not warranted. The man didn't understand his mutation - even with whatever drug they gave to them, Alistair was still not completely starving, and he would be able to run on this food for at least a few more breaks.

Water was the greatest issue for him, and now that the fill he'd gotten earlier had kicked in, he felt a lot better. At least... he did. Now, he only felt grumpy, and something about the onset of irritation made his stomach churn ever more vigorously. He didn't feel so good, now - now he really did want food.

Picking up his spear as he met the top end of the hill, the mage didn't once turn back.

He was, of course, beginning to grumble to himself internally. Fridgar, the King of self mutilation, lecturing Alistair on his energy usage. Fridgar, who had nearly died before his eyes several times over, who jumped around in a frenzy - thoughtlessly - whilst torn through by the Avriel's talons. The mage hated Syroa for turning him into such a spiteful bitch - why was he getting so grumpy already, over his lover's concern? Why was he so ready to argue?

He calmed himself, took a breath, relaxed his mind. But this only made him tired, fatigued. He just didn't feel so good anymore. Everything he did from this point on was subconscious - he eventually ended up following behind Fridgar, rather than the other way around, and took water when he offered only because he asked. God... he cursed to himself. Why do you have to get like this, Ali?

He remembered something - out of all of the lectures and chastising between the two of them, he by far had been the most prevalent in dishing out these punishments. He must've reprimanded Fridgar a few dozen times, over his health and his actions. Why was he so upset about a singular time? Was it because he fell? No... it must've been his pride. His need to always be the right one, the smart one. It wasn't fair on Fridgar, not at all.

Alistair turned back to him and bit his lower lip. He began to speak, as his mate just told him about the excellent taste of the water.

"Fridgar, I'm sorry for being so easily offended, my love. I really am," he frowned, almost pouting. "You were just trying to look out for me, it's not your fault I slid down or any of that. I'm sorry, love. I really--"

He paused. Fridgar noticed something, and quickly after called his name. Fridgar noticed a movement in the brush, and after approaching it, the predator within wavered and ran off to the woods. Alistair, holding back his spear and aiming it as best he could, considered throwing it at the Scython - but it was too fast, and there was no way he was hitting it at that speed with his limited experience in throwing spears.

Instead, he quickly reacted to the two Scython-Ur who approached them by surprise. Beside him, one swiped with its claws, attempting to rip through him. Alistair twirled in a backstep motion, dodging around the claws before whacking the feline hard with the butt of his spear. Reeling back and growling, the creature pounced for him, Alistair sliding on his feet beneath its chest and aiming the pointy end of his spear upward. He sliced through the guts of the beast, ripping through his chest as the creature made a hard landing, hitting the floor with a thud as blood skid across the floor.

Wiping the dust and dirt off his legs, the mage began to pace towards Fridgar, though in a Shadowdancing stance, and with his eyes peeled for threats.
word count: 867
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[Eastern Gauthrel][G]Pups on their own, Part 2: Food

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As Alistair fell and slid down the mountain, Alistair would find the giant bare foot stepping in his way while his arms scrambled desperately to catch him. This had not been the plan at all. When his foot caught his mate, he lifted him to his feet and checked him over for any obvious injuries, brushing the loose dirt from his soft, beautiful skin. When he'd inspected the noble for any misplaced bones or breakages, he explained the peril he was throwing himself in, failing to realise the danger he'd thrown himself into the jaws of just last season.

Alistair obviously pouted, probably growing mad at Fridgar for ruining his fun or causing his fall. He didn't care. Not this time. He was hungry, stressed and just wanted to make sure that Alistair would be comfortable for the next twenty-four breaks. He didn't realise that Alistair wasn't nearly as bad as he was or that Alistair didn't realise how badly he was suffering in this climb. All his added weight, muscle, just sped up his metabolism and gave him hunger pains, like none he'd had before. Maybe once Fridgar's stomach stopped trying to eat itself, he'd be more open to apologising. But for now, he would apologise for shit all.

Even as Alistair tried to apologise at the river side, Fridgar found himself glad that something had distracted them, he just really didn't want to deal with it right now. As the Scython bolted away, Fridgar found himself gazing at the beast as it ran, curious of what it was up too. Then another Scython pounced him from the side, slamming him to the floor and landing atop him, throwing its massive teeth for Fridgar’s throat. Stunned, he reeled as he hit the floor, the reached up to catch the dagger-like teeth before they pierced his skin. Unlike the last time he fought one of these, he knew what he was doing.

The beast forced all its weight and strength into the bite, only for Fridgar to match it with his starving ferocity. What laid atop him was his next meal, he could eat just as soon as he murdered it. The whole world faded around him, all that seemed to exist was him and the Scython-Ur. Pushing and pulling, Fridgar pressed into the both saber-like teeth of the Ur, slamming his boot into its stomach from beneath it as he roared with ungodly ferocity. Briefly, he sounded like one of the beasts from the Gauthrel woodlands himself. The creature whimpered, reeling at every devastating blow before catching a glimpse of its returning comrade and leaning harder into the bite, no matter the damage Fridgar's powerful kick was doing to it.

That leverage was all he needed. In one swift snap, Fridgar broke the long tooth in his right paw from the Scython's maw, the snap echoed sickeningly across the river, followed by the wild hissing of the beast as it reeled in pain. He did not let it go. He too, caught a glimpse of the charging Scython and readied his new weapon as it approached. Using his own super-fast reflexes, he slammed his fist into the creatures, eye, only there was a Scython tooth attached, driving through the creature's optical orb before puncturing its brain in a heavy traumatic blow. The beast fell, tumbling over him and skidding on its way to Alistair.

he maintained his grip of the Scython that tried to flee before ripping it forward, over him once more and sweeping out its hind legs with his own. Using the surprise to his advantage, he tumbled over to sit on the floor beast before slamming his massive fist into the creature’s head, killing it with the first and mangling beyond recognition with the seventh, eighth, ninth... He bellowed a ferocious roar when punch after punch slammed its way through the beast’s head, busting its skull open and leaving the grey matter, skull fragments and broken fur to pour across the dry woodland floor, which swiftly drank the beasts blood.

Only when his knuckles touched the moistened forest floor behind where its head had previously been, did he stop. Panting and shaking, his blood-spattered face looked to Alistair as the pent-up rage slowly faded, well spent. "Fucking hell am I hungry," Fridgar spoke before letting his maw onto the body of the beast, carving its raw flesh with his teeth, ripping chunks of flesh from bone and finding all the edible parts of the Scython-Ur with first-hand experience.

He'd become like an Animal in that moment, appearing to belong here, in the wild. With insatiable hunger, he filled his body with the much-needed nutrients of his carnivorous metabolic system. It felt so fucking good to be full again. Even as his senses returned to him, he tore through muscle, chewed up fat, spat out small bones, rended guts and tore limb from limb as he greedily devoured the fallen beast, coating himself with its life force. It felt so fucking good.
word count: 862
Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.
-- Bertrand Russell
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[Eastern Gauthrel][G]Pups on their own, Part 2: Food

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Fridgar ignored him - he noticed. He could feel a tinge of frustration, or even outright anger, welling inside of the man. At him? Had Alistair gone too far, turning his concern into a negative? It was wrong of him to do that - he was just... pissed off for a moment, after falling back, sliding. He just wanted to be positive. It seemed like Fridgar needed positivity, he had been so irritable. But apparently not.

He wasn't going to lie, the whole thing effected him from that point forward, even after he'd gutted his Scython and had stood back up with his spear in hand. His heart dropped a little, seeing Fridgar wrestle the beast, teeth threatening to plunge into his neck. What if Fridgar died in that moment? The thought... was compellingly grim, and he fixated on it. The more he explored his emotion, the more he felt like a hormonal teen - wondering such things in these dangerous moments, rather than acting effectively.

And perhaps that was the issue. Instead of basing everything in practicality and efficiency like he used to, he'd been changing, becoming more impractical and sentimental. He based things on their emotional value in addition to their other forms of worth, and as a result he did things like acrobatically leap and cartwheel up hills on a stomach that was nearly hollowed out. Perhaps Fridgar liked the practical, conservative Alistair rather than this wild man teeming with energy and need. Maybe he was becoming too dependent, too emotionally taxing for the man to handle.

Why did he go about, pouting, during moments like this? Why did he not just accept Fridgar's advice for its logical merits and move on, acting thankful in return? What had changed so fundamentally within him, this season?

Ironically, he came to the conclusion that it was Fridgar's influence that had made Alistair act so nonchalantly. It was because Fridgar made him feel safe, protected and coveted, that he could do these silly things, act recklessly and not care. Fridgar was his havendal, he'd always keep him safe. Before, he only had himself, so he always had to be strong and peerless and think about everything based on its pros and cons.

But of course, part of having a havendal was listening to them, heeding their advice... almost obeying them. Had Alistair sought the best of both worlds, with none of their drawbacks? To be protected and loved, whilst still commanding the discourse and always having his way? He realized that, in fact, he was doing exactly that. He was spoiled. So incredibly spoiled.

Reality only fully returned to him as he came across the limping body of a blinded Scython-Ur, timidly swiping in his direction with its claws bore. Alistair strafed to the side of it and swept across its front legs, then hind legs, cutting out its hamstring and the muscles and tendons through its legs. The creature collapsed, crying out in pain. Gripping the spear in one hand and aiming it at his skull, he speared the beast through its brain to offer it a quick and merciful death.

Then, the mage looked to Fridgar, nodding his head. He wasn't so brutal as his mate was -- Fridgar had murdered one of the Scython beyond what would've been necessary in a thousand millennial. The mage wondered if he was ventilating his anger at him, a thought that made his heart drop with a coming of anxiety.

"Fridgar..." he called to his lover, "let's go hang these up and make shelter."

He said nothing. Maybe he'd just piss him off even more.
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[Eastern Gauthrel][G]Pups on their own, Part 2: Food

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Alistair

Skill Knowledge:

Fieldcraft: Greater animal density around rivers
Polearms: Spear - Rending foes in half from beneath them
Hunting: Higher chance to find animals around a watering hole
Acrobatics: Stepping and flipping to scale a hill
Acrobatics: Sliding beneath a foe
Endurance: Using adrenaline to fight through weakness
Endurance: Carrying weapons in a state of weakness
Endurance: Traversing difficult terrain in a state of weakness

Other Knowledge:

Me: High Maintenance
Fridgar: Angry at me
Is impracticality wrong?
Eastern Gauthrel: Divided by rivers
Scython-Ur: Hunt in packs
Scython-Ur: Cunning hunters
Scython-Ur: Go straight for the kill, watch your vitals

Loot:
3 Scython-Ur Carcasses, 1 of which doesn't have a head
Injuries:
N/A
Fame:
+6 for killing 2 Scython-Ur (the finishing blow is what counts ;) )
Devotion:
N/A
Magic:
These points can NOT be used for Domain Magic

Points awarded:
15

Fridgar

Skill Knowledge:

Fieldcraft: Conserve energy for the best results in the long run
Fieldcraft: Stay topped up on water
Hunting: Higher chance to find animals around a watering hole
Hunting: Distract smarter prey from the front and ambush from the flank
Hunting: The edible parts of a Scython-Ur
Hunting: The Exhilaration of landing a kill and then eating it
Unarmed Combat: Aim for the eyes
Unarmed Combat: Use your legs when you can't use your arms

Other Knowledge:

Alistair: Cheerful in life and death situations
Alistair: Fell because you distracted him
Alistair: Struggles with his anger to this trial
Scython-Ur: Hunt in packs
Scython-Ur: Cunning hunters
Scython-Ur: Go straight for the kill, watch your vitals

Loot:
3 Scython-Ur Carcasses, 1 of which doesn't have a head (these are the same as Alistair's, you do not have 6 carcasses combined. Just saying)
Injuries:
Nothing new
Fame:
+3 for killing a Scython-Ur
Devotion:
N/A
Magic:
These points can NOT be used for Domain Magic

Points awarded:
15


Comment:
Wow, this is getting interesting. I was expecting this to be just about survival, but Alistair's self-reflection and the conflict between the pair made this thread a lot more fun to read. I'm almost rooting for them to fight, which I know is bad of me, but still, who wouldn't want to see that? :D

Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Have a wonderful day! :)
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"A hero is someone who steps up when everyone else backs down"
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