Attacked! [Encounter: Tangle]

Mechanical Summary of combat - Initiative order Tangle 11, Nora 9

[Round 1: Tangle - lash -> 4+3=6 miss | Nora - knife -> 20 -> 4 crit not confirmed - Dmg - (4-1)=3
Round 2: Tangle - Lash -> 1 (automatic miss) | Nora - knife -> 11 miss
Round 3: Tangle - Lash -> 11 (hit) -> dmg 2 | Nora - knife -> 17 (hit) -> dmg (4-1) = 3
Round 4: Tangle - Lash -> 14 (hit) ->dmg 3 | Nora - knife -> 14 miss]
Fight is about 50/50 Nora ahead on HP, but both 1 or 2 hits from **** - choose to make an offer to even the odds.

Narration

It moved just above the ground. She couldn't see how it moved, just that it was fast, and coming towards her. A writhing mass of tentacles. Some were long and tapered and looked rough as leather, some were long, thin, and smooth, with no distinguishing features what so ever. All of them had a menacing, almost phallic appearance.

She didn't understand, how could it move so fast?

When the thickest of the tentacles reached out, she reacted, slashing with the knife in her hands. She struck, feeling a mild shock as the blade made contact with the rope-like arm. She knew it had bit though, her blade shown crimson in the starlight. The creature seemed caught off guard. Perhaps it had hoped she would be defenseless. Its next attack seemed tentative, but Nora had no hesitation, striking out again with the blade, but her untrained slashes met only air.

She didn't even see the tentacle that hit her. She felt it. It was like the sting of a cane, followed by a lingering caress. The tentacles were surprisingly warm, the body heat and slow stroke that followed the impact seemed almost comforting, welcoming.

She stabbed at where she felt it, and it jerked away. The **** was almost enough to rip the knife from her hand, but she held on as if her life depended on it. For all she knew, it did.

Another blow that she couldn't see struck her across the back. This time her opponent was growing wiser, the tentacle withdrawing ahead of her counter attack.

She was hurt. She could feel welts already rising where the beast struck, and this fighting and her scrambling barefoot, near naked, across the rocky soil. The pain from these dozen or so scrapes felt distant, but the knowledge that she was being worn down felt close to hand.

Her eyes were locked on the beast, so she jumped when she heard the little voice. shrill, yet somehow melodic.

"Need a hand?"