Posts from Donar Darkwind (Naver Leengard)

Polo, treasure hunter. Attribute distribution: 25:10:15:10 20:5:10:5
Skills:
1)Keen Eye 1: searches defeated enemies more effectively.
2)Melee Combat 0
---Endurance: +60 health
Actions:
1)Flamberge.
OD: 7, range: 2 (cannot be changed). Damage: 20-24 (physical) and 1-2 (fire) (critical 26+5)
2)Hunting Knife.
OD: 4, range: 1 (cannot be changed). Damage: 9-14 (physical) (critical 16 (physical))
Inventory:
1)Leather Armor.
This armor fits very well on the body, as if it were your own skin.
Fire and air resistance +14%
Water and earth resistance +10%
Physical damage resistance +8%
Dodge -14
Maximum wear: 240
2)Flamberge (one-handed)
If you keep the blade of such a flamberge in the furnace for a long time, you will feel that it is indeed a tongue of fire.
Chance to dodge -8
Initiative +2
Maximum wear: 320
3)Hunting Knife (one-handed)
At least, that's what the blacksmith called it, although you, like many others, mainly use it to skewer pieces of meat before sending them into your mouth.
Chance to dodge -3
Initiative +5
Maximum wear: 140
4)Coins: 5 silver, 20 silver, 60 copper
5)Amulet-Tooth
If you put such an amulet in a drink, it will acquire a special, pleasant taste and aroma. Perhaps that is why bats are so indiscriminate in drinks and are quite satisfied with simple blood.
Willpower +10
Concentration +10

Current characteristics:
Health 260
Damage bonus: +25% in melee combat, +1.5% on critical hit
Fire and air resistance 14%
Water and earth resistance 10%
Physical damage resistance 8%
Critical hit chance 4%
Dodge: 0% (in any case)
Experience: 300 (level 2)
OD: 23
Mana: -
Initiative: 112 with all items

Primary
might	accuracy	intelligence	vitality	willpower	speed	strength	concentration
25	0	0	0	30	0	0	10

The Port of the Well is sometimes overcrowded, and that was the case this time. For some reason, most of it was occupied by Kro’s fleet, although with the best of intentions: to have a few drinks in the local taverns. At least, that’s how it looked from the outside. A civilian ship had to sail to another, neighboring city on the Isle of the Deep. From there, Donar went to the Well by stagecoach. His fellow passengers were a halfling and a polo, who were engrossed in a conversation.

More than ten years have passed since Donar last set foot on this land. His eyes constantly reminded him of how much everything here had changed. He shifted his gaze from observing the surroundings through the carriage window and turned it to his companions.
- Hey, - he interrupted them, drawing their attention to himself.

A tall, somewhat plump поло with a narrow beard interpreted this interjection in his own way. -- Oh, our man! Tell this little runt that witches belong at the stake! And all enemies of Kro belong at the stake! How can he even bring himself to object, because we, the поло, are a great nation, and all those who disagree with this... Well... The halfling in a green cylinder and a cloak of the same color merely smirked, as if saying, "I've been explaining this to you for an hour, and you're still talking about your own thing."

The donor liked this idea and decided to support it.
— Warlocks? Undoubtedly. Any creature that dares to practice magic will face only one fate – on the blades of brave warriors! — Donar looked out the window and then turned back to his companions. — I haven't been to these lands for a long time, what about you? Are you aware of the latest events?

-- See! Now you understand?! -- Polo addressed the halfling, interrupting his sentence. -- And you were trying to prove something completely nonsensical!
-- You completely misunderstood the essence of my statement. And, by the way, someone asked you something, and I don't think it concerns me, as I'm just a visitor here.
-- Asked? Oh, yes. Well, a war is coming soon, I'm sure of it. First, we'll defeat the creatures and reclaim our continental territories, then we'll annex the Free Kingdom... well, we'll conquer it, like it used to be. And finally, the Dark Elves will get what they deserve, just to teach them a lesson.

"Grand plans, but still, one shouldn't bite off more than they can chew, right?" Donar smiled. It was curious information, though not exactly what he had hoped to hear. Then he turned to the halfling. "Won't you tell me what roads led you to Deep?"

--Oh, it's quite a long story, you wouldn't want to hear it, -- he replied quickly. After a moment of thought, he added. -- To put it briefly, I want to restore my honor. And also, to get my horse back.
He didn't finish his sentence when the carriage suddenly stopped, even though they hadn't arrived at their destination yet.
--I think it's time for me to go, have a good journey! -- and he quickly left the carriage.
A minute later, the carriage door opened, and the remaining passengers saw the face of a gendarme, looking around the inside of the carriage.
--We are looking for Flame Fox, -- he stated in a bored tone. -- Do any of you know anything about his whereabouts?

— Who? — Ha, it seems this halfling isn't exactly the most law-abiding fellow. It will be interesting to hear his story from the police officer.

– A Halfling? – the gendarme became alert. Apparently, he didn’t always receive an affirmative answer to the formal question, “Do you know anything about his whereabouts, esteemed colleagues?” To be fair, this was the first time in fifteen years of honest service. – Do you know him?

— Perhaps. I saw someone traveling here, all green. He got out a little earlier. I'm not sure if it was that Flame Fox of yours. Either way, can you tell me about this person's deeds?

The fellow passenger in the carriage blurted out: --No, not at all, he was just here! The gendarme said pointedly: --He's an international criminal, I don't have time to chat, I'm on duty.

It hadn't been long before the stagecoach continued on its journey, and Donar's hometown, Raselon, appeared in the distance – located halfway between the Well and the city where his ship had arrived.
When the stagecoach stopped, Donar bid farewell to his fellow traveler and headed towards the forest, not even considering visiting the city itself. He made his way to the hunting lodge where he once lived. So much time had passed, but he remembered the path as if he had walked it just recently.

As Donar walked away from the stagecoach and it started moving, he noticed something green out of the corner of his eye, flashing under the vehicle.
Approaching the house, he saw a dilapidated building. Next to it was a booth that didn't seem to be there before. A dog was sleeping in the booth.

Donar decided not to disturb the dog and headed towards the house, hoping to knock on the door and find its owners. It was clear that this little dog must have an owner living here.