((Jeez guys, completely forgot about the RP section. Sorry...guess I have to catch up.))
Jallas stood, again lost in his thoughts, but torn between reality and memories. He heard what everyone was saying, but none of it registered with him for he was too busy searching his mind.
When everyone was done speaking, Jallas shifted on his feet and brought the bow off of his shoulder. He then pulled an arrow out of the quiver hanging on his back, rather than the one at his side which contained unfeathered arrows. The unfeathered arrows flew too carelessly, and he was already an average shot as it was. Jallas only kept them with him for closer encounters. He nocked the feathered arrow.
He waited a while, hoping that the fight wouldn't start soon. No matter how many times he had fired his bow, when it was at the cost of another's life, it never seemed right to him. He looked to his commander and asked, "Any specific targets?" He needed to know their own tactics before he was ready for battle.
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IT IS I, THE LEGION OF DEATH!
(aka: Deaths_Legion)
Am I indecisive? Yes and no.
Quote:
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Originally Posted by Jim Butcher
In real life, the chair doesn't break when you slug somebody with it, the way it does in the movies. The person you hit is the one who breaks.
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Best two lines of Storm Front, hands down.
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