Hearing Maeve's mother scream, Kestrel turned to find where she was. At her cart, of course. An Ogre towering over her, she was too close to the beast for him to take a shot. On the run in an instant, the redheaded leatherworker shouldered his bow, and drew a wicked looking dagger from somewhere on his person. Silent as the night, he came up on the Ogre, and plunged the needle sharp weapon between it's shoulderblades.<br/><br/>At 2011-01-05 00:23:35, Sarat (uid: 1008) rolls: 1d20a4 Result: 5 (http://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=21241)<br/><br/>***OOC***<br/>That was attack roll, not damage. Where's the lube?