Dracul

roll ID# 248044 | CD: 10 +1 +3 LD: 19 +1 +10 «NT:LE» Gathering: LD 15+ | +2 Materials «Foraging» R2 : "Journeyman Forager" LD 13+ | +1 Material CD: 5*+ | +1 extra Material «Foraging» EXP: 94/149 | 66 +8+2 +16+2 Total Mats: 21 | 17 +4

roll ID# 248041 | CD: 6 +1 +3 LD: 8 +1 +10 «NT:LE» Gathering: LD 15+ | +2 Materials «Foraging» R1 : "Novice Forager" LD 14+ | +1 Material CD: 6*+ | +1 extra Material «Foraging» EXP: 66/49 | 38 +8+2 +16+2 Total Mats: 16 | 12 +4 Level up! «Foraging» R2 : "Journeyman Forager" LD 13+ | +1 Material CD: 5*+ | +1 extra Material

roll ID# 248038 | CD: 10 +1 +3 LD: 1 +1 +10 «NT:LE» Gathering: LD 11-14 | +1 Materials «Foraging» R1 : "Novice Forager" LD 14+ | +0 Material CD: 6*+ | +0 extra Material «Foraging» EXP: 38/49 | 38 +0 Total Mats: 11 | 10 +1

roll ID# 248035 | CD: 12 +1 +3 LD: 9 +1 +10 «NT:LE» Gathering: LD 15+ | +2 Materials «Foraging» R1 : "Novice Forager" LD 14+ | +1 Material CD: 6*+ | +1 extra Material «Foraging» EXP: 38/49 | 10 +8+2 +16+2 Total Mats: 9 | 5 +4

roll ID# 248032 | CD: 1 +1 +3 LD: 6 +1 +10 «NT:LE» Gathering: LD 15+ | +2 Materials «Foraging» R1 : "Novice Forager" LD 14+ | +1 Material CD: 6*+ | +0 extra Material «Foraging» EXP: 10/49 | 0 +8+2 Total Mats: 4 | 1 +3

More text Dracul | HP: 760/760 | EN: 88/88 | DMG: 1 | MIT:152 | ACC:1 | TAUNT | THORNS:18 | BH:42 | REC: 4 | HLY: 6 | PARA «NT:LE» Gathering: LD 11-14 | 1 Material LD 15+ | 2 Materials «Foraging» R1 : "Novice Forager" LD 14+ | 1 Material CD: 6*+ | +1 extra Material Foraging attempts: +3 EXP | Successful catches: +8 EXP | Critical Forage (additional materials/Demonic Shards): +16 EXP Herbalist Hut | +2 Foraging EXP per Attempt and additional +1 LD & CD to fishing attempts. «Foragi

Roll: ID# CD: LD: Quality Count Experience Ambition Mod 1 248011 CD: 2 +1 LD: 11 Salvage Success (1) 5 (+3 Ambition) 2 248010 CD: 5 +1 LD: 20 Uncommon (3) 6 (+3 Ambition) 3 248009 CD: 9

The walk back to Florenthia was a procession of exhaustion and blood-stained rain. Maugre limped beside me, his amethyst cape shredded, pink hair plastered to a face still pale with shock. Sewallus carried the Monkey King’s severed fist wrapped in vines—a grim trophy that dripped black ichor onto the moss. Ariel walked ahead, her blue kimono torn at the sleeve but her posture unbent, Kimba a ghostly sentinel at her heels. Remington stood waiting at the village edge, pipe clenched between nicotine-stained teeth. His spectacles glinted in the gloom as he took in Sewallus’ burden. "Dead?" he

The forest’s breath felt heavy as wet wool against my skin. Sewallus walked at my shoulder, his battleaxe scraping against moss-covered roots with every step. Maugre trailed behind us, his bright cape snagging on ferns like a clumsy afterthought. The boy’s earlier swagger had dissolved into nervous silence. I could almost taste his fear—sharp as unripe berries. "Sewallus," I said, my voice cutting through the drumming rain. "When the Monkey King came for you—did it speak?" He stiffened. "Speak? No. It screamed." His knuckles whitened on his axe haft. "Like metal tearing. And its eyes

Rain kissed my cheekplate, cold and constant. Florenthia’s mossy edge yawned before me, the village’s rope bridges swaying like drunken ghosts in the gloom. Guardian’s Oath pulsed against my forearm—a low, warm thrum that echoed the forest’s own heartbeat beneath my boots. Roots listen here, Ariel had said. I felt them now, coiled and watchful in the wet earth. A sharp crack of snapping twigs. I whirled, shield rising. A boy emerged from ferns tall as spears. Pink hair curtained one yellow eye, absurd against the forest’s weeping greens. Amethysts glinted on his too-bright cape. Kimb

Transferring 1x Demonic Shard > @Ariel - The Crowned Lion

Roll: ID# CD: LD: Quality Count Experience Ambition Mod 1 247906 CD: 1 +1 LD: 15 Critical Failure (2) 4 (+3 Ambition) 2 247905 CD: 10 +1 LD: 19 Rare (3) 8 (+3 Ambition) 3 247904 CD:

rolling

The rhythmic clang of hammer on anvil from the nearby smithy was a grating counterpoint to the new, far more offensive noise assaulting the besieged western gate. My fingers, meticulously layering powdered mending crystal along a stress fracture in a vanguard’s greave, faltered for a split second. A discordant wail, amplified by some infernal crystal, shredded the already oppressive atmosphere of rain and monstrous howls. "By the gods," I muttered, the words dripping with aristocratic disdain. I didn't need to look up to know the source. The garish techno beat and the piercing, artificial

A sinewy root coils around my left ankle, yanking me off balance. I stumble, toes scrabbling in the wet silt. The cavern walls loom like judges in black plate. Damp echoes dribble from glowing fungi above. I taste damp earth on my tongue and feel the weight of centuries bearing down on me. I wrench my foot free, every muscle burning with effort. The root snaps back into the dirt with a hollow thwack. My gauntlets ring as I tighten my grip on my weapon. Holy light pools along its rose‑etched edge, steadying my pulse. Blight’s slow poison still coils in my veins, but passive healing warms m