Arabelle

.w. -> POST ACTION: AOE-II vs Deepling & Shamblers 5 - 7.

half the first health bar on non-modified tech. and, her wound reopened the moment she hit it, some thorns. why all the fanfare, then? dozens of shub-niggurath's empty eyes fume at her, the flesh of its eyelids flowering open and shut. it is lying on a bed of butterfly corpses and she hears their fellows crying in grief. she bids the rest of them to depart and shifts her red eyes sidewards to a menu bubble she is holding open beneath the folds of her cloak. jomei, coming from the wrong side of town, is now circling back to meet her. she draws her cloak tighter around herself and drop

it doesn't move. it doesn't regard anyone in particular. it begins and ends its short address to the audience collective when the key in her hand reaches seventeen full rotations. fear bubbles through the crowd. a man spills out from the portal and hacks and coughs out water before struggling to a stand. he finds that half the tide has reversed, the wiser of the remaining lot clamoring for the exit. many had twisted around to face the source of the voice at their ear only to find that it wasn't there. the faceless entity raises its hand upwards to the sky. her red eyes follow the mot

forgot its entire face. always so annoying when that happens. "go. go." gloved hands shove a pair of stunned players to the side. she crosses the gap as the light of the portal winds down behind her -- it takes a mere second's rest, then it flashes again, bringing forth another group of eager yet unprepared adventurers -- and she pulls off her hood to bare her face; her tempestuous red eyes. she pushes her way to the front of the arriving crowd, sweeping an arm out to deter any player behind her from moving forward. everyone who had been near the entity had more or less bac

she cuts her--- it open from- shoulder to torso-- it staggers, breath heaving, inches an agonized step from the door towards jomei's silent taunt; its three limbs are twisted in all the wrong ways and it fruitlessly attempts to feel about its chest for the measure of the inflicted wound, and from the neck up, the clasp falling open and a muddied cloak spilling to the ground, its head is an insect's, membrane and exoskeleton sewn into human skin. a thin reedy whine whistles from its throat. the last sound it ever makes before the woman crushes its offending head with the blunt of

ph -> post action: aoe-i vs veiny rock golems 1-4.

-> POST ACTION: AOE-II vs Shamblers 21-24. yeah no more well-rested tracking it literally doesn't matter.

-> POST ACTION: AOE-I vs Shamblers 17-20.

-> POST ACTION: AOE-II vs Shamblers 13-16.

-> POST ACTION: AOE-I vs Shamblers 9-12.

-> POST ACTION: AOE-II vs Shamblers 5-8.

-> POST ACTION: AOE-I vs Shamblers 1-4.

heavens above. not again. arabelle had chanced upon the boy's camp whilst out on an excursion. she also happens to be looking to restock her array of consumables since floor 29's opening and bargain deals to her are like a siren call. old habits die hard and such. so, with great consternation, smoothing her expression into the usual friendly smile, arabelle wanders over to the menu and indicates her choices. she has five servings of laddu but she wants to keep one, if she wants to replenish them all at once when they run out again... "four of each. thank you."

non-linear narrative (?). (received.)

oh, it's just the new floor messing everything up. nothing to see here, she supposes. (accepted.) (trading the following to night.) 10 mats. 2 demonic shards. wayfinder LOOT DIE III [SHOP] | TIER 1 PERFECT TRINKET | [state]: crafted a star-shaped charm made up of various translucent teal-coloured petals, framed with silver and held together with taut strings. at its center is a stylized metal heart, and at one of the petals' ends is a loop tied with a knot, so that the charm is capable of being hung or locked around another object. the item calls back to a foreign myt