[Episode] In the Slayer's shadow.

Quest:

Little Camp may have been something at one time, Vikrum thought. A planned base by the Marines or perhaps some future stronghold for some long-dead noble. A small rotten dock gave way to a dirt path which led to three buildings. They had constructed the place out of a disassembled Galeon. Little Camp’s only Cantina had the figurehead of a mermaid mounted above its faded crimson sign of the same name. Shaking in his soiled Ensign fatigues, a drunk sat on the steps of the Mermaid. The drunk’s hat upturned in his hand like Belisarius. Three dirty-faced children ran past in the street screaming. A middle-aged prostitute sat on the brothel’s porch opposite the Cantina. She dressed in garters and lace.

“I’m looking for a man with a scar over his right eye.” Vikrum motioned his index finger where his eyes were under the helm. “Taller than me by afoot. The tallest I’ve seen.”

“I ain’t had a drink in might near a week.” The beggar in the Ensign’s uniform shook his upturned cap. He smiled a toothless hoary mouthed smile.

“Okay. A drink it is.”

Vikrum’s footfalls echoed on the steps as he followed the drunk inside the mermaid. They dressed the dive in old fineries that had taken to decay in their places: A painting of naked women perched atop a cliff overlooking the sea. Its golden frame speckled with dark mold. Behind the bar stood a pale vase. Upon it rested the faded visage of a sailor.

“A shot of rye whiskey fer me, Adly! And fer my friend here--“

“A wine. Red wine if you have it. I’ll need a straw with that.”

“A straw! I ain’t never heard o' that before!” The drunk in the marine outfit laughed.

“Money first.” Adly said. “No more freebies for you or any of your friends, Ben.”

In the corner sat a gunslinger, with plumes of smoke veiling his face. The gunslinger pushed the brim of his hat up with a finger. He muttered something to the person he played cards with.

“O' course. My good friend here says he has got us today! Oh, what a joyful sight it was to see this Knight in such a dismal place! And lookin’ fer a man he is. Scar over his right eye.” Ben mimicked the gesticulation Vikrum had shown.

“I’m a knight as much as you are a marine.” Vikrum said, as he placed a Beli bill down to cover their drinks.

Bartender Adly glared at the bill as if he couldn’t believe anyone could manifest such a thing--anyone connected to Ben that was. He shook his head and then began pouring the drinks.

“Aha! My mistake, surely enough. It’s yer dress, ya see. Ya look like a Knight sure enough! But I was once a marine, oh ya. A fine soldier I was then too.” Ben gave a pause and slicked his hair back. Holding his head higher now, “Ah, those were the days. I was young then and handsome. You should've seen...

To shut Ben up, Vikrum slurped his wine. With each shot, Ben’s shakes subsided until he could hang a hand still in front of his face. He did so astonished and smiling. Ben took sharp glances at himself in the mirror behind the vase. Each look more brazen and vain than the last: Straightening his hair, smoothing out the dirt-smudged collar, and dusting off the filth from the visor of his cap. Ben rose from a stool; standing erect before Vikrum. Cutting himself in half, Ben bowed to the Fallen Knight.

“Sira, you are one-in-a-million to be sure.” He snapped back to attention.

“Now,” Vikrum said, “back to the scarred man.”

Adly caught glances of the two between servicing and whip-downs. He may have cleaned the same spot multiple times, but that thought hadn’t crossed his mind. Eyebrows creased and his mustache twitched.

“Oh, ya. O’ course!” Ben rubbed circles into his temples. “Well, ya see, I know no scarred man. And I don’t recall ever tellin’ ya I did.” Ben laughed. The former marine sat down on the stool, clasping shot glass for another burst of warmth. The stool flung out from underneath his rear, Ben tumbled as glass shards flew, and Whiskey splashed. Ben attempted to brace his fall with an outstretched palm, but this only resulted in a broken arm. There was no pain now, thanks to the booze. Only a slight tremble that slithered up his shoulder.

“Ya sonofabitch, ya coulda killed me.” Ben held his forearm as he looked up to find the point of a rapier.

“The last person who laughed at me,” Virkum murmured, “got this through the throat.” The Fallen Knight leaned back, correcting his slight stoop.

“Looks real easy to act cool when yer got a weapon on an unarmed man, coward. Edd, split his tin can open, and paint the walls with him.” Ben called.

The Gunslinger, Edd, had risen and overturned his table. Playing cards spinning in the open air around him. Revolver hammer cracked. Edd’s dark eyes peered from under his large-brimmed hat.

“How many times have I told you not to play these games, Ben? I knew one day, you’d run into someone who’d take you off my hands. Edd, get Ben out here before he gets stuck. And you, put that away.” Adly pointed to Rapier. Adly’s firm hand tapped the bar top. With a rag, he dabbed at the splashed whiskey that dribbled down his waistcoat. Mustache twitching in aggravation.

Edd holstered his sixgun as boots clomped across the hardwood. Looping arms with Ben, Edd lifted him erect.

“Ya tin can bastard, if nobody else’s got the balls, I’ll gun ya down myself. Watch yer back, coward. I’ll be seeing ya real soon.” Ben said.

“Alright. Alright. Get him out.”

The blade slid back to Vikrum’s hip. The wine had dulled the ache in his joints, but holding the rapier at an extended position sent painful flowers blooming in the arm.

“I hope there are no hard feelings between us.” Adley said, “Edd is hired muscle. He’s here to keep the peace. And Ben, well, Ben is Ben.”

“No feelings at all. I’m only interested in, Gow.”

“So the scarred man has a name. You’re a bounty hunter then, I assume? You wouldn’t be the first coming around Little Camp throwing that name around. “

“I’m not interested in his bounty.”

“A personal vendetta? Now that’s more interesting than the 30 Beli.” Adly said.

“Is he here or not?”

Adly shifted his mustache in thought.

“Everything has a price. For that information, I would need you to perform a highly secretive task. “

“Mhmm?” Vikrum gripped his elbow as if steadying the joint would somehow relieve its pain.

“Across the street, there is a brothel. The woman who owns it has caused me more trouble throughout the years. I’d like for her to disappear. How it happens, matters little to me. Just that--“

“I’m no hitman. Don’t insult me.” Vikrum took the last slurp of his wine.

“I assure you--”

“I’ll find him on my own.” The Fallen Knight walked out of the Mermaid.

When Vikrum exited the Catina, he expected to find Ben laying in wait. He was instead met with the clanking of wooden swords. The three screaming children wore naval hats made of newspapers and tapped their weapons together. I should go back in the Mermaid and take the information from them. That at least would be easier than tearing through the island. I’m no manhunter, that’s for certain.
 
“I will be the Pirate King! Yarrr!” The red-headed boy exclaimed. 

“I’m a Navy Admiral. I won’t let you get One Piece!” Another said. 

“Stop fighting!” The third, a pink-haired girl with tears in her eyes. 

Vikrum sat on the Canita steps, watching the children bicker and tap swords. It took me two weeks to get here. Now that I am, I’m no closer to finding him. Maybe all this was just a waste of time. I should head to the Grandline, not… 

“Fabby, that’s enough. It’s time to go home.” A voice called. 

“But Pop, I’m not finished playing yet.” The red-headed boy said. 

“We still have a field to harvest before sundown. Do you want to eat this winter?” The voice asked. 

The man who called Fabby was tall and middle-aged. Dressed in frayed beige shorts with an open-collared white shirt. Though aging, he was unbent from time. Silver matted hair framing his heavily lined face. Red splotches of sunburn flaked around a faded diagonal scar. Vikrum could still see the great swordsman that once stormed the castle of Illusia. 

“I was so close to the One Piece, please Pop, just a few more minutes,” Fabby asked. 

Gow brushed the paper hat off his son’s head, running fingers through his hair. 

“Maybe tomorrow, let’s go home.” 

Fabby and Gow walked the dirt pathway that led outward—Vikrum followed. The path before him snaked through a forest of giant bamboo. Vikrum lost sight of the duo over the hilltops, but as he would mount a crest, he regained sight of them. This went on throughout the forest, until he only saw Fabby shuffling along the path. 

“Well, well. I didn’t know Illusia trained assassins.” Gow sat on a felled trunk of bamboo, whittling at a thin stalk with a dagger. 

“I’m not with Illusia anymore, nor am I an assassin, but I have come for your head all the same.” Vikrum touched the yellow cloak of Illusia that dangled off his shoulders. 

“My head?” Gow laughed, “I can show the graves of bounty hunters who have tried.” 

“I’ve come for a duel,” Vikrum said. 

“Oh, I see. On that day I sullied your honor, and now all these years later you’ve come for your revenge. You knights and your honor.” Gow said. 

“I was only a squire then. You cut down many men in Illusia, but I was not among them. I thought you were the finest swordsman I’d ever seen. I wanted to be you.” 

“You are an odd one aren’t you? What’s your name, masked man?” 

“Vikrum Belmont.” 

“Today you’re coming with me to work the fields, I could use an extra hand. If I can’t talk you out of this nonsense by the end of the day, you may sleep in my barn, and come the morning you shall have your wish, Vikrum. But if you even think about raising your blade against my family--” Gow’s smile faded as a red mist rose from his shoulders, and the ground trembled under their feet. Vikrum clenched his fist, hoping to steady his nerves…



The sun rose, bathing the land in orange light. Vikrum sat by the forest line as they had both agreed upon, waiting for Gow to arrive. The previous night they had drunk together and laughed. They had talked of Vikrum's dream, and what he sought on the great sea. A part of him didn’t want the night to end, he wanted to hide away here from it all. The idea had crossed his mind when Gow tried to talk him out of the duel. Vikrum could make a new life for himself here. A fresh start. No one would know. But there were some things men can’t walk away from. Vikrum wanted to die sword in hand, fighting against the great tide of the world, not withered away on some wretched island.

“Shall we begin?” Gow’s voice called.

The one-hundred sword slayer stood between two large stalks of bamboo. The sun burned behind him, casting his shadow upon the Fallen Knight.

COMBAT TRACKERS:

Vikrum uses MT Lance Wall on Gow
Vikrum uses LT Lance on Gow
Vikrum uses LT Crusader Strike on Gow
Vikrum uses UT on Gow

Gow uses LT Red Crescent on Vikrum
Gow uses LT Red Strike on Vikrum
Gow uses UT on Vikrum

The member 'Vikrum Belmont' has done the following action : Dice Roll

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#1 'Reflex Check' : 11, 6, 20, 15

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#2 'Reflex Check' : 20, 17, 12

Vikrum unsheathed his rapier. A lonely green eye lit the darkness of his helm. The wind danced through the tall grass as stalks of hollow bamboo clacked together. His yellow cloak billowed behind him. So calm, he thought. Vikrum began moving through swaying grass. He lunged in front of Gow, aiming a powerful thrust of steel at the older man’s chest. [Vikrum’s LT][Lance][Status: Miss] Gow’s blade intercepted his own, and they stood face to face as their swords ground together. Gow pushed downward against Vikrum’s blade, breaking the Fallen Knight’s guard. An upward slash split the knot that held Vikrum’s cloak fastened. The cloth fell away as blood began blotting through his bandages and shirt. [Gow’s LT][Red Strike][Status: Hit]

The Fallen Knight’s sword hand cocked back, releasing a volley of steel jabs. Gow danced between consecutive thrusts, parrying as he went. The final thrust of Vikrum’s blade rending an open wound on Gow’s right bicep. [Vikrum’s MT][Lance Wall][Status: Hit, “Grazing Blow”]

“Ho! You got me.” Gow smiled in surprise, “Even managing to get me on the back foot. You dance well! I haven’t been this excited in years.” The silver-haired man’s smile widened as he found his sword hand trembling and blood covered. White teeth tore at his shirt, freeing a strip of cloth. Gow cinched the wound and regained his pose.

The two swordsmen were drawn back together, each striking the other and lunging away. [Gow’s UT][Status: Hit] [Vikrum’s UT][Status: Hit] Heavy breathing echoed in the helm as blood ran down his legs.

“At this rate, you will surely die.” Gow noted.

Vikrum’s chest rose and fell. The thud of his heartbeat reverberated in his ears. Calm yourself. Steady your breathing. Clear your mind. The fever of battle had him in its clutches. The rush and exhilaration from combat seeped into his every atom. In contrast, Gow stood motionless and smiling. His breath was not labored as Vikrums was, but smooth as the wind that moved through the grass.

“The issue is not your lack of skill, but rather your experience. Our physical capabilities are not so different. Sure, I may be a little stronger, a little faster, but not so much more that you can’t keep up. When it comes down to it, I’ve come against your fighting style before. It’s nothing new to me. Your form is common amongst those from Illusia, and as you well know, I have much experience with them.”

“We continue.” Vikrum said between gulps of air.
 
“Your ambition need not end here. If you push any further, it will be your end.”

“We continue.”

“So be it.”

The pair charged each other. Vikrum came in close with a thrust feint, ducking below Gow’s sweeping slash. [Vikrum’s LT][Crusader Strike][Status: Hit, “Crit”] Bringing his blade across his opponent’s ribs.

With his free hand clutching his side, Gow lunged away, swinging his sword in the open air. A burning red air slash swiped against Vikrum's torso. [Gow’s LT][Red Crescent][Status: Hit, "Crit"] The Fallen Knight collapsed.

"As I've said: This will be your end."

COMBAT TRACKERS:

Vikrum uses HT Secret Technique: Prayer of the Fallen Order on Self (No roll required)
Vikrum uses UT on Gow

Gow uses LT Red Reverie on Vikrum
Gow uses LT Red Ring on Vikrum
Gow uses UT on Vikrum

The member 'Vikrum Belmont' has done the following action : Dice Roll

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#1 'Reflex Check' : 2

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#2 'Reflex Check' : 5, 18, 10

Vikrum rested on his knees. His head hung low as blood spilled from between the slits of his helm. The burning sensation in his chest forced him to writhe in pain. Too afraid to gaze upon his wounds, instead looking at Gow’s boots. Monstrous stalks of bamboo clacked in the distance.

“You'd rather die here than retreat to live another day?”

“If I betray the promise I made to myself, I have no right to take another breath.” Vikrum said, spitting blood.

“Your conviction is--”

“Knight’s Vow, Secret Technique.”

Taking up his sword once more, Vikrum stood amongst the grass. His silhouette burned white as black aura manifested around him. The air around him darkened as if he were being viewed through a dim lens. [Vikrum’s HT][Prayer of the fallen order][Status: Hit] Bloody lips mumbled a hushed prayer.

Gow’s smile was swept away by the black wind that raged before him. Prickling gooseflesh slithered down his neck. Unconsciously his body moved to attack. Gow sprinted towards the looming aura. He leapt up into the sky above Vikrum, spinning in circles and finally bringing his blade down upon his opponent. [Gow’s LT][Red Reverie][Status: Missed] The clangor of steel sang as blades met. With a backhand stroke, Vikrum pushed against his opponent’s blade. The force flung Gow to ground, kicking plumes of dust up into the air.

From out of the dust came a crimson spinning air blade. Violently it cut through air, its metallic grating echoed throughout the forest edge. Vikrum raised his rapier to guard against its impact, but the projectile slipped over the weapon, crashing into his shoulder. [Gow’s LT][Red Ring][Status: Hit] Gow twisted his neck with an audible crack. A grimace came over his face as he shifted shoulders.

“That aura of yours is quite fearsome. I’m trembling before it,” Gow admitted, “but how long will it last?”

Gow closed the distance between them, weaving himself through grass at immense speed. The tip of his blade raised and thrust in a gap of Vikrum’s armlet. [Gow’s UT][[Status: Hit] The fallen Knight retaliated with a downward slash that caught empty space. Gow skidded through the grass. [Vikrum’s UT][[Status: Miss]

COMBAT TRACKERS:

Vikrum uses HT Dragon's Bite on Gow
Vikrum uses LT Lance on Gow
Vikrum uses UT on Gow

Gow uses LT Red Strike on Vikrum
Gow uses LT Red Bow on Vikrum
Gow uses UT on Vikrum

The member 'Vikrum Belmont' has done the following action : Dice Roll

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#1 'Reflex Check' : 17, 19, 3

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#2 'Reflex Check' : 3, 20, 17

Their duel took them deep within the bamboo forest. Swords clashed together between clearing a path through the dense overgrowth. The pair stood atop felled shoots of bamboo, blades clanking together. The grinding of metal quieted all wildlife. Everything else in their path inconsequential. Their focus solely fixed on the next thrust, parry, slash, lung, riposte, and predicting each other's movements. All talk between them had ceased, but an air of pure joy overtook them. To have such a close fight was a rare thing in this world. Each blade stroke mattered. Each step they took was essential in gaining an advantage. So, they danced this way for some time. A hail of blades whirling through the forest. Gow’s red aura burned against Vikrum’s black.

The click of a flintlock’s hammer paused their duel. Both stood face to face, motionless except for the swells of oxygen burning in their chests. The drunkard, Ben, crept out from behind a large stalk of bamboo. Flintlock pointed at Vikrum’s head. His fractured arm resting in a blue sling.

“What did I tell ya? You’d be seeing me real soon, right? Ya tin can sonofa--”

“Don't interrupt.”

“Disappear.”

In tandem, they shot air blades that collided with the drunk’s chest. Ben collapsed in a pool of his blood, not having fired a single shot. Gow and Vikrum nodded in agreement of the act. The duel resumed.

Vikrum pulled back his sword, readying a powerful thrust. [Vikrum’s LT][Lance][Status: Hit] The blades tip pierced through his opponent’s guard, splitting open a gash on Gow’s cheek. Gow responded with a sweeping slash.[Gow’s LT][Red Strike][Status: Missed] The fallen knight jumped out of the blades arc, landing on an adjacent horizontal bamboo shoot. Gnarled knuckles wiped away dribbling blood. The corner of Gow's mouth lifted in a sneer.

“Red Bow.”

From Gow’s blade came forth a rain of tiny red air blades. [Gow’s LT][Red Bow][Status: Hit, “Crit”] Vikrum swatted at the red rain and even managed to redirect some of them away, but their numbers overwhelmed him. Vikrum fell from his perch, tumbling to forest floor. His once white shirt, now dark and heavy with blood. Gow threw his sword downward at his opponent. [Gow’s UT][Status:Hit] The blade flew past Vikrum’s helm, sticking into the earth behind him. Blood spurted up from the shoulder it grazed. Vikrum stumbled to his feet, retrieving his opponent’s sword. Gow jumped down to meet with him.

“I was hoping that’d be the final blow.” Gow admitted.

“No such luck.” Vikrum tossed the sword back to Gow.

Vikrum lunged at Gow with a thrust of  his blade. [Vikrum’s UT][Status: Miss] Their swords met. Red aura mingled with black as a fiery spectral dragon encompassed Vikrum’s form. The earth below them shivered, and Gow’s eyes opened wide with surprise. An aimed thrust darted at Gow, but he raised his blade in defiance. The technique’s power rippled through Gow’s flesh. The impact sent him flying into bamboo stalks. [Vikrum’s HT][Dragon’s Bite][Status: Hit]

COMBAT TRACKERS:

Vikrum uses HT Lash of the Dragon's Tail on Gow
Vikrum uses LT Crusader Strike on Gow
Vikrum uses UT on Gow

Gow uses LT Red Ripple on Vikrum
Gow uses LT Red Riot on Vikrum
Gow uses UT on Vikrum

The member 'Vikrum Belmont' has done the following action : Dice Roll

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#1 'Reflex Check' : 3, 7, 12

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#2 'Reflex Check' : 20, 11, 18

Vikrum lifted his visor to peer through stinging sweat. Dust fell where Gow landed. Long stalks of bamboo cracked from the impact. Gow’s large silhouette rose in the dust. Slowly he came forward, like an ominous beast discarding the shadows to pounce on its prey. In agitation, Gow’s aura grew around him--burning red, and withering plant life at his feet. By comparison, Vikrum’s was shallow. Black specks fell away from his form. Like a candlewick burned to its end, his aura sputtered and flickered as it dissipated. Vikrum required fuel to feed his aura--fuel which he no longer possessed.

“Earlier I had asked you how long you could maintain that power. Now, I see it won’t last another five minutes. You can’t rely solely on such a technique. One can push their body to its limits, but never without repercussions. Once you’ve exhausted that resource, the winner of this dance will be decided.”

“Tch. Don’t speak to me as if the duel were already decided.” Metal groaned as Virkum closed his visor.

Gow’s blade distorted in his hand, its surface changed--acting as if it were made of water and a large stone had been dropped in it. Gow moved to strike, blade humming in his hand. Vikrum replied, dashing past his opponent with a slash. A thin crescent of blood spurted from the Fallen Knight’s chest. Legs wobbled, nearly buckling under the attacks force. Vikrum plunged his sword into the earth to steady himself. [Gow’s LT][Red Ripple][Status: Hit, “Crit”] I will not fall again, no matter what. Vikrum swiveled his head to find Gow unscathed and standing upright. [Vikrum’s HT][Lash of the Dragon’s Tail][Status: Miss]

A bamboo stalk crashed into the ground at Vikrum’s feet. His bright green eye scanned to find Gow bisecting them. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. They fell around him--Vikrum weaved through, splitting the makeshift projectiles in half. In the blind spot of his right side, a stalk fell and pinned him to the ground. [Gow’s LT][Red Riot][Status: Hit] All the air from his body wrenched from his chest. Vikrum lay flat on his back, the weight of the bamboo crippling his movement. The vow he had uttered to himself quickly disavowed.

“Still breathing, huh? You’re one tough bastard, you know that?” Gow said on approach.

“A cheap trick.” Vikrum said with labored breath.

“Winning is winning.” Gow admitted.

Sheathing his sword, Gow pressed his palms against the stalk, rolling it off of Vikrum. He offered an outstretched hand to Vikrum, but it was batted away.

“I don’t want your pity.” Vikrum said as he caught his breath.

“Quite indignant, even in your situation.”

“I never thought you would have--”

“Used a cheap trick? I’m an outlaw, not a saint. If you plan to sail that sea, put your honor aside. Your goal is admirable, but do you think those in your path will always treat you fairly?”

Vikrum propped himself up once more, bringing his blade extended in front of him. Gow redrew his as well. Out of the stillness came a wide arcing blade, opening a wound on Gow’s forehead. [Vikrum’s LT][Crusader Strike][Status: Hit, “Grazing Hit”] Blood dripped down over his eyes. They came together simultaneously, swords carving into each other. [Gow’s UT][Status: Hit] [Vikrum’s UT][Status: Hit]

COMBAT TRACKERS:

Vikrum uses MT Lance Wall on Gow
Vikrum uses LT Lance on Gow
Vikrum uses UT on Gow

Gow uses HT Red Redemption on Vikrum
Gow uses UT on Vikrum

The member 'Vikrum Belmont' has done the following action : Dice Roll

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#1 'Reflex Check' : 5, 17, 8

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#2 'Reflex Check' : 10, 19

The last vestiges of Vikrum’s fighting spirit clung lightly to his outline. Black flickerings dancing around his silhouette. His rapier had grown heavy in hand. Its weight strangely foreign to him. Gow stood opposite him, between two bamboo shoots, blade raised and burning red. The blade fell, releasing from it a burning air slash that split the ground below them. [Gow’s HT][Red Redemption][Status: Miss] The projectile brushed past Vikrum.

“It seems I’m coming to my limit.” Gow admitted.

For the first time since they had begun, the possibility of defeat nagged at the back of Gow’s mind. This Illusian had given him more trouble than what he initially thought possible. What bothered him more than the idea of defeat, was that he liked Vikrum. The stomping of Vikrum’s feet interrupted his thoughts. Vikrum’s sword gleamed as it was thrust forward in a volley of strikes. Each was clumsy and misplaced, allowing Gow to weave through them. [Vikrum’s MT][Lance Wall][Status: Missed] The Fallen Knight lunged in again, his sword finding the hard flesh of Gow’s shoulder. [Vikrum’s LT][Lance][Status: Hit]

Gow kicked himself free of impalement. [Gow’s UT][Status: Hit] Boot met stomach, launching Vikrum into a backward tumble.

“You’ve still got a few tricks, huh?” Gow clutched his bleeding shoulder.

“I don’t have much left.” Vikrum said as he picked himself up.

They stood facing each other, both covered in sweat and blood. Their dance was slowly coming to its climax. Both stumbled sluggishly at each other. The veneer of their skillful stances and techniques wore through.

Vikrum swung wildly at Gow, clumsy strikes whirling in the air. Out of the unskillful onslaught, came an arc of blood spatter. [Vikrum's UT][Status: Hit]

COMBAT TRACKERS:

Vikrum uses MT Holy Arrow on Gow
Vikrum uses LT Crusader Strike on Gow
Vikrum uses LT Prayer of Strength on Self (No roll needed)
Vikrum uses UT on Gow

Gow uses LT Red Strike on Vikrum
Gow uses LT Red Crescent on Vikrum

The member 'Vikrum Belmont' has done the following action : Dice Roll

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#1 'Reflex Check' : 7, 6, 8

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#2 'Reflex Check' : 19, 13

Gow uses UT on Vikrum

(forgot to add this in previous post)

The member 'Vikrum Belmont' has done the following action : Dice Roll

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'Reflex Check' : 18