##MQ2

Rolled: 16 (16) [1d100]

Cyrillus glared at his menacing foe. No amount of training had prepared him for this. He glanced at his partners in this journey, Rara was ready with her staff, Randall was swinging Celine with all his might. Is this the end? He was glad to be with his feline pack, Rok, Greaseface, all the other friends he made along the way. Faerora was also there.

Cyrillus weighed his option. Perhaps the alliance could be of assistance. No the battle was right here, it would be impractical to call for backup they’d never make it in time. Also they were a peaceful group, while they would undoubtedly have his back, he’s not sure how much of a benefit they would be. And then there was his slingshot, could he replay the story he learned, taking down the mighty beast with a single shot. He was not here to re-live a story, he wanted to chart his own path.

##C. Channel your pent up runt anger and attack

He was tired of being called small, weak, worthless. He remembered the mockery his father made of him. His small legs started churning as he charged at Akmong and let out a primal roar, for the first time in his life it sounded menacing (kind of)

“Rolls 16”

Cyrillus hit a small crack in the tile and went crashing into the floor and piling into a charging Murder Bunny’s backside. “Uh sorry”, he said terrified as he turned to see what became of the battle. So much for the hero.