[hr][center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLmZkZjBjZS5TR1Z5WTNWc1pYTSwuMAAA/fledgling.semibold.png[/img][/center][hr]“Ow, fuck! I know what the debt is, you fucking—”

Hercules can barely get a word before another attack slams against his throat, driving the air from his lung. He stumbles back and winces as a flash of green warms the back of his eyelids. Beside him, Achillis cries out, burned by whatever spell the elf bitch cast. After shaking the stars from his vision Hercules straightens, fists clenching tightly as he shifts his left foot back and drops into an offensive stance. The tattoo on his arm is glowing slightly, imbued with some sort of magical energy.

“You’re not the only one who went off and trained, scummy.” He says, and after a brief moment of thought, he turns to Io and suddenly attempts to slam the club that had been sitting on his hip into her side. [abbr=Roll to Hit: 2 + 5 = 7 | MISS]He whiffs completely as you manage to step back in time[/abbr], Io, and [abbr=Roll to Hit: 5 + 5 = 10 | MISS]whiffs again when he attempts to slam the back of his hand against your face.[/abbr] Hercules growls in rage, the tattoo on his arm sputtering back to it’s muted colors.
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