Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27226023-20150807001143/@comment-11163511-20150811175637

Sam started violently coughing as Lord BellyButton's fumes funneled down his lungs. It was as horrid as the stench of a sandwich of moldy bread, rotten flesh paired with stinky cheese, drizzled with arsenic sauce and then left out to rot for one month long. He struggled to rip out a disposable gas mask from his backpack to block out the fowl gas before he fully lost conciouness, which he made it with barely any time to spare. He watched as Eldhrimnir slithered her devastated corpse towards Desi, leaving a trail of lava on her path. He wanted to end this, but he was no way going near something that could fry him out. He had to go indirect on this attack. He may no longer have weapons of his own, but the shards from the ceiling proved to be a good substitute which he grabbed and threw at the hag as if he was enjoying a game of darts, rather in a more angered way.

"Get. Your. Bloody. Wicked. Claws. Of. Yours. Off. Her!" Said Sam after every bit of glass he tossed.