(Strength contest: 11)
Agatha flails as you wrap your hands around her neck. She presses a thumb into your eye socket and you flinch away, perhaps tactically willing but instinctively unable to sacrifice your eye to maintain the grapple. The tables turn however when Agatha tries to maintain her advantage, grasping at your face. You feel a pair of fingers tear at the inside of your cheek and you twist your neck, biting down hard on the intruding digits. Your mouth fills with the metallic taste of hot blood.
The wind is knocked out of you as Agatha manages to bring her knee into your midriff. You roll away from the impact. Battered and bloody, you are able to rise into a crouching position, heartbeat hammering in your ears. Agatha, clutching her mangled hand, rises and begins to laugh hysterically.
"I didn't think you had it in you... Admit it, this struggle for dominance excites you. Your opponent wriggling under your fingertips... The taste of me on your tongue..."
(Insight roll: 19)
Only then do you realize that her manic bravado is a farce. Agatha inches back, her good hand dipping down to fiddle with the locking mechanism of a nearby cage. A desperate survey makes you aware of your new position. You landed near the grizzly workbench, rows of gleaming knives, scalpels, and shears within reach...
Agatha flails as you wrap your hands around her neck. She presses a thumb into your eye socket and you flinch away, perhaps tactically willing but instinctively unable to sacrifice your eye to maintain the grapple. The tables turn however when Agatha tries to maintain her advantage, grasping at your face. You feel a pair of fingers tear at the inside of your cheek and you twist your neck, biting down hard on the intruding digits. Your mouth fills with the metallic taste of hot blood.
The wind is knocked out of you as Agatha manages to bring her knee into your midriff. You roll away from the impact. Battered and bloody, you are able to rise into a crouching position, heartbeat hammering in your ears. Agatha, clutching her mangled hand, rises and begins to laugh hysterically.
"I didn't think you had it in you... Admit it, this struggle for dominance excites you. Your opponent wriggling under your fingertips... The taste of me on your tongue..."
(Insight roll: 19)
Only then do you realize that her manic bravado is a farce. Agatha inches back, her good hand dipping down to fiddle with the locking mechanism of a nearby cage. A desperate survey makes you aware of your new position. You landed near the grizzly workbench, rows of gleaming knives, scalpels, and shears within reach...