<strong>While Fievon was confident he could kill them all if he really gave it everything he had, it would be at a cost he wasn't willing to pay.  He liked living, even if life hasn't been so great recently.  <br/><br/>Traveling to find a new life, shunned from your homeland because his General decided he was too friendly with the King's Court.<br/><br/>Fievon makes a dedicated effort to toss them away, to give him a swords length to spare some lives.  He felt fairly stupid for feeling merciful, but all the same, these were the women folk of this people.  They looked more appealing to converse with or at least support their safety when surrounded by much less humanoid creatures, monsters mostly.<br/><br/>Fievon makes a grapple check to one that was attacking him ferociously.  An arm locks around her neck, and he holds his sharp, bloody blade to her neck as we<br/><br/>Roll Result: Westal rolled: 1d20, adding 3to the total<br/>Result: 17,<br/>Total: 20<br/><br/>"BAck off" He yells as he breathes heavily, bleeding himself.  He was very badly hurt, though not immediately fatal, if turned worse he would be a gonner out here in the woods. "Or I swear I'll make her a head shorter.<br/><br/>He wished they hadn't been so attractive and human like. He didn't want to kill either of them. They were scantily clad or naked of sorts, and he was a lonely guy out here, this should be what every traveler hopes for.<br/><br/></strong>