<div class="floatleft">(http://www.dfwd20.com/photopost/data/522/medium/Human_Fighter1.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: edwardian;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 2.65em;">Alfreic Slate, Soldier</span></span><br/><em>In the company of a devil and Ms. Ashley; HP 18 (Current 10)</em><br/></strong><hr/><br/>The memory was entirely wrong.  Alfreic had never been accosted and subdued.  The wounds he had imagined were different from the ones that were upon him.  He rose slowly to his feet, only to be accosted by the demon.   Alfreic stared into the beastly, sinful eyes and, though courageous, felt an insupportable ounce of fear.<br/><br/>Then she threw him with an astounding force, sending him through thicket and brush.  Alfreic did not cover his face.  Alfreic wanted to know what it was like to bleed.  He felt bone crush and flesh tear, and at once, he was a mound of flesh slumped upon the ground.  But Alfreic did not relent.  He gathered himself up and grasped his longsword firm.  The damage he had suffered would have been too much for much for the rest of his mortal kin.  But Alfreic was a tough bastard, and he wanted more.<br/><br/>"Demon!" he cried.   "Demon, do not think that you can so easily rid yourself of me!  Just as you come to haunt me, I shall go to haunt you!"<br/><br/>And with that, he began to run through the thickets, looking like a neanderthal hunting those long-tusked creatures, steel glimmering with blood, his eyes crazed with lunacy.<br/><br/><strong>OOC:</strong>Alfreic automatically fails the reflex save, taking all damage.