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Mad Baggins · 05-31-2004, 07:35 PM

Beroth wiped the sweat off his brow and stood, panting. The trolls were all dead, and he was glad. I hate trolls! he thought, cleaning his sword. The foul blood that dripped from his sword emitted a nauseating stench and disgusted him. Filthy creatures. "My sword should not be defiled by such filth," he mused, wiping the blade with some leaves.

He felt something wet dripping down the side of his head. He felt his head and looked at his fingers. Sure enough, they were crimson with blood. "Oh dear," he said aloud, wiping the wound with his sleeve. He had somehow acquired a cut upon his forehead, which was now bleeding rather freely. Pressing his sleeve against his forehead, he looked for something to bind it with. Unfortunately, he did not have enough time to find a suitable dressing.

"More trolls!" came a cry. Beroth groaned and sheathed his sword quickly. Running about, he picked up as many of his arrows as he could find, putting them quickly in his quiver. He hoisted himself up into a tree and crouched upon a thick branch. Poised to attack, he nocked an arrow in his bow.

"Come, foul creatures. Come and join your comrades," he muttered, waiting for the trolls to crash into his line of sight.

05-31-2004, 07:35 PM	#66
Mad Baggins Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Nov 2003 Location: A place where after thunder golden showers come falling like a rain of flowers. Posts: 371	Beroth Beroth wiped the sweat off his brow and stood, panting. The trolls were all dead, and he was glad. I hate trolls! he thought, cleaning his sword. The foul blood that dripped from his sword emitted a nauseating stench and disgusted him. Filthy creatures. "My sword should not be defiled by such filth," he mused, wiping the blade with some leaves. He felt something wet dripping down the side of his head. He felt his head and looked at his fingers. Sure enough, they were crimson with blood. "Oh dear," he said aloud, wiping the wound with his sleeve. He had somehow acquired a cut upon his forehead, which was now bleeding rather freely. Pressing his sleeve against his forehead, he looked for something to bind it with. Unfortunately, he did not have enough time to find a suitable dressing. "More trolls!" came a cry. Beroth groaned and sheathed his sword quickly. Running about, he picked up as many of his arrows as he could find, putting them quickly in his quiver. He hoisted himself up into a tree and crouched upon a thick branch. Poised to attack, he nocked an arrow in his bow. "Come, foul creatures. Come and join your comrades," he muttered, waiting for the trolls to crash into his line of sight. Last edited by Mad Baggins; 05-31-2004 at 07:42 PM.