At 2016-04-29 03:40:07, Hjalmar (uid: 27539) rolls: 2d6a2 Result: 8 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=88102) DEFY DANGER...Hjalmar is awake but unpleasantly axe-less.<br/>At 2016-04-29 03:52:37, Hjalmar (uid: 27539) rolls: 2d6a1 Result: 7 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=88103) SHIFT roll! Holding 2 on a 7-9. We've now got a piggier dwarf...One who has no axe, but does have sharp tusks (hand, 1 piercing, messy, implanted).<br/>And spending one hold on Forceful Charge to ram one bugbear into the fire. I'll count on you to manage damage, Nastara.<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Hjalmar<em>was</em>sleeping in a bedroll, or more particularly, wrapped in the hide of the great grey wolf that he wears like a fang-hooded cloak (What? Why the hell would he wear a boar-skin? Them's family!).<br/><br/>He's had bad experiences with tents, this dwarf has. Tents're enclosed spaces. Tents in Hjalmar's presence either tend to become so saturated with alcohol fumes that in a short time they catch fire, or so filled with, ah, the aromatic waft of over-indulgent dwarf that suffocation is a real hazard. What's that other reason? Privacy? Pffff. Privacy was invented by folks as're embarrassed by how they fuck. There's a bit too much of boar to the dwarf at times...<br/><br/>So, as someone noted, if it ain't rainin', the dwarf ain't under shelter complainin'. Much.<br/><br/>...Well, at least he isn't complaining until one of the bugbears glances a club off of the side of his skull.<em>What's this?! Do these creatures think they're playing with a wolf-breed or something?</em>That's the hardest, toughest, most solid lump of bone you're going to find on a wereboar, and tain't hardly a soft spot on most dwarves, either! Under<em>other</em>circumstances Hjalmar might make some innuendo with regards to that, but as he was curled around his axe facing the fire, and the bugbear's blow rolls him away from the fire, the somewhat drink-sodden dwarf lurches to his feet without the comforting weight of his double-bitted dwarven-steel teddy bear. For that matter, without the wolf-hide, since he manages to shrug it off in the process. The dwarf stumbles nakedly erect (not to mention erectly naked), arms thrown wide as he stares at the dark form between himself and the fire. Welp, he hasn't got his axe, but you can't say he's entirely weaponless...<br/><br/>Squinty eyes take in the looming shape that's just awoken him with such an unpleasant love-tap and the dwarf belches mightily. "Flipsyz? Sat yew?" He absently notes that the fire is far larger now, splitting the campsite...And there are far too many too-tall forms moving about.<br/><br/>The dwarf's eyes narrow. "Naw, yar burrd's dem sexy bur thet chest's tew flet." He lurches forward, muscle rippling and bulking itself up along his back and shoulders...And thick, curling tusks twisting up and out from the corners of his mouth to rival and then exceed the bugbear's own the dwarf gives a low, rumbling grunt, then turns to see Sydney also threatened. Brows that are even thicker and heavier than they were five minutes ago lower over piggish eyes, and the dwarf lowers his tusked head, surging into motion with a blood-curdling squeal!<br/><br/>Hjalmar doesn't have room to build up much speed or steam, but there's a bugbear, and there's a fire behind him, and one thing the dwarf definitely does have is a lower center of gravity. He grapples with the other (taller) big, furry brute, tusks ripping and gouging as he backs the bugbear into the roaring wall of fire.