((i'd have loved to incorporate more of your posts suggestions, but, many of them came in as i finished up writing this part up.))
Yes... You remember now. You're a marksman, Through the ages nothing has been more deadly in your hands than a ranged weapon. You can pick them all up, bows, slings, rifles, and quickly get a feel for them, quickly get used to the way that you need to handle them. Being good at brawling is all well and good, but you've never liked to take an injury that you can avoid, never liked the downtime related to a serious injury.
No injury has ever been able to kill you yet though, so you know you've been doing something right.
The other man, the only one who has shown you compassion so far has propped himself up now, looking shocked at the apparent easy that you, a man covered in cuts and bruises has defeated the blubbering fatman. As you reach down toward him he raises a hand, shaking his head as he does so. "No, friend... I know what you are about to do, and I will not stop you, but I cannot come with you. It is my duty to queen and country to watch those held in these cells, and, well..." he pauses, taking a deep breath as he looks down at the sobbing form in the middle of the cell.
"It was such a horrible blunder that this drunken sot allowed a prisoner to escape, and worse still that we never had a solid means of identifying this prisoner, but one thing's for certain, if they put one such as I in charge, there will be a great deal more respect and understanding expected of those that tend to the inmates."
He breathes in sharply as he climbs to his feet, kicking the drunken oaf once, then again, before he looks up at you. "He won't remember a thing, given how much he has had to drink... As for your escape.. It's a pity that you were so... easily... able to scale one of the old manhole shafts leading down here, and escape like that."
You bow your head to the man as you duck out of the cell, looking both ways down the dreary, pipe lined tunnel, bars set into the side of it, giving what you estimated to be at least ten cells on this block. In the center of the ceiling you could see the shaft mentioned, one that was just out of reach normally, but with something to climb on you would have no trouble. A quick trip back to your cell yeilded a chair, a chair was all you needed to jump, to take hold of the first rung. The first rung was the first step to freedom, and free you would be.
Hand hold after hand hold...
Hauling yourself up slowly, until your feet were able to meet the inside of the shaft. With that you went upward rapidly, reaching the underside of the manhole cover, twisting it slowly, peering out from beneath it... To see the blackness of night, to feel cool air against your face, the fainted hint of lamplight from around a corner telling you that you were almost there. You almost slithered from that hole, carefully setting the cover back down, ducking towards the alleyways before you gazed skyward.
The moon and stars were partially obscured by heavy clouds, but the stars glimmered like diamons in that inky tapestry. It was like seeing a midnight blanket, welcoming you back to the world above, filling you with more hope than you'd had in a long time. You had no idea how long you had been in that prison, but now you were free.
Free.
There was no more beautiful word that you could think of at this moment, all aches and pains you had felt prior had faded to insignifigance with the euphoria you felt at this moment. You could have danced the night away, to the sound of fiddles in your mind had it not been for the fact that you knew that you should keep moving.
You were free, but you had no money, no possessions, nothing but the clothing on your back.
You skulked along the back alleys as the sound of an airship flying low came overhead, as streetlamps burned gas to illuminate the roads outside your refuge, as contraptions running by the power of steam clanked away in the distance.
Now you were free, you needed a plan, a direction to go from here. This place was unfamiliar, and yet nothing could quench that feeling of hope you had right now.Earth: 4 - (Resiliance)
Fire: 4 - (Marksman)
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Powers:
0 - Ageless.
You have all of eternity to complete your tasks, forever in your prime.
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About your Stats...
Your stats are measured from one to ten, with one being weakest, meaning that you're feeble, helpless in that area and ten being almost divine. A score of three is considered the 'average' for a human, a score of six is considered to be the utmost peak of human reach, with higher being that of only legendary heroes.
The brackets after your stats show your speciality, something related to that stat that when you're carrying it out, you treat as if your score was one point higher than it is.
Every point in a stat roughly doubles its effectiveness, so a person with three fire would be equal to a person with three fire, but a person with four would be equal to two people with three.
Earth - Earth is a measure of body, of endurance, of passive strength. It governs how seriously injured you may become before you are incapacitated or worse, it determines how quickly you recover from poisoning, from disease.
Fire - Fire is a measure of your active strength, of your finess, your ability to exert yourself in bursts. It governs combat prowess most notably, along with things such as sprinting and other such short term activities.
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Topic: They told me I could be anything... (Read 71464 times)