Location: Fly on the celing | 
KOS MOS
Not expecting for the pest to show himself, you wait, on guard for you’re tree to fall down. To your surprise, someone walks calmly to a nearby clearing. Whoever it is, they seem to be looking for something. The patron is blond, and wears blue armor. He looks up and sees you looking at him, then dashes into the forest.
X
The monstrous beast shrugs the wound off; it seemed like you’d chucked a pebble at it. It continues forward, undaunted, snapping twigs underfoot. You keep a healthy distance as best you can, until you see something dash past from you. You look to see a Paragon going through the forest. He has short brown hair, and wears a bow on his back. He stops at a tree about 100 yards away, and waits while he catches his breath. A loud voice splits through the forest. “Whar are ye, Whelp?! Me a’int done smashin yer skull in yet!! Har, har, har!!” The tree tops sink as a grey-skinned giant stamps through the clearing. The beast you were fighting looks at it, and backs off in fear. “Wah-HO!!! Lookie! Anuther one! Me an’ mine eats good ternight! Ye gonna be a good lad ‘n stay still fer I can skin ye?!” the lumbering titan yells at you, brandishing a thick tree as a club. |