<strong>Eshalu - riding the spider</strong><br/><br/>Her midnight-black obsidian knife struck true and sank deep into the spider's cartilaginous chitin. There was a cracking sound, like bark snapping, followed by a wet slap and a spurt of the same unholy fluids that issued forth from the immense arachnid's abdomen. Eshalu felt herself propelled forward by the momentum of the spider's mindless headlong charge. She sought to steady herself, only distantly aware of Aeryn's cries and Reliyian's incantations. The spider was half-loping half-galloping, its good legs crashing in the vegetation. It was dying and it knew it. Its life flowed, viscid and unspeakable, out of its gaping wounds. Steadying herself, Eshalu prepared for impact. She withdrew her knife and prepared to leap off the dying spider's back.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Roll Result: Eshalu rolled: 4d3, adding -4to the total<br/>Comment: Eshalu - Fighting roll to defend against spider death throes<br/>Result: 1, 1, 1, 3,<br/>Total: <strong>2</strong><br/><br/>Eshalu takes the <strong>moderate consequence</strong><em>Pulled Hamstring</em></div></div><br/>Her dismount went well at first, the spider crashed into a thicket of bushes and broken trunks and she leaped off, hoping to find purchase on a nearby moss-covered log. Too late she found the wood crack beneath her boot. The force of the jump sent her careening into the thicket beside the spider. Instinctively she tensed her leg and dug her heel into the wet earth to shield herself from impact. That tension brought the muscles of her leg to breaking point. A sharp, visceral pain wracked her left leg. Eshalu bit her lip and rolled to her side, the spider's  corpse looming beside her. Her breath was ragged from exhaustion, her arm bleeding and the dull throbbing in her hamstring spreading to her thigh. But they had won; the spider was finished.<br/><br/>She sat up, leaning on a damp rock for support, still panting. Her mouth was dry and tasted of bile and adrenaline. Through the canopy she saw clouds drift through spears of sunlight. She smiled. The Moon Huntress would be well pleased.