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- The Canis lunged. Dead ahead, I thrust Crocea Mors out, but it weaved to the side. My left! Its jaws clattered off the metal shield. I tried to cut down, whipping the shield back and slamming my blade home. But it had already gone, dashing by before swerving into another attack.
- Damn but it was fast! Each time it struck I tried to catch it. Crocea Mors cut left and right, down from above – thrust, slash and swing. But each time I cut nothing more than air. Each time it escaped by a whisker's breadth. My bloody Dexterity, every damn time. The very stat that determined my ability to hit stuff in melee, my hand-to-eye co-ordination and skill with a weapon.
- Also my worst stat… what use did a Blacksmith have for hitting a moving target? So long as I had enough to not crush my own fingers beneath a hammer, I didn't need any more.
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