- 9,749
- 4,371
Looking over Flagg's profile the first time I saw it, I noticed that his Striking Strength was set to 'Unknown'. At the time I couldn't recall any point where he had even used his physical strength in a fight before, so I simply wrote it off as 'meh, probably doesn't exist then' and moved on.
However, I recently reread 'Eyes of the Dragon' (in which Flagg appears) and I came across these:
1
The unfortunate Lesser Warder who finally answered Flagg's summons lived less than four seconds after drawing the third bolt on the Warders' Door. He caught a nightmare glimpse of a white face, glaring red eyes, and a black cloak that blew backward in the dying breeze like the wings of a raven. He screamed. Then the air was filled with a dry whooshing sound. The Lesser Warder, who was still half drunk, looked up just as Flagg's battle-axe split his head in two. "Next time someone knocks in the name of the King, bestir yourselves and you won't have a mess to clean up in the morning!" Flagg bellowed. Then, laughing wildly, he kicked aside the body and stroke up the corridor toward the stairs. Things were still all right. He had awakened to the danger in time. He knew it. He felt it. He opened a door on the right and stepped into the main corridor leading away from the courtroom where Anders Peyna had once dispensed justice. At the end of that corridor, the stairs began. He looked up, grinning his dreadful, sharklike grin. "Here I come, Peter!" he cried happily, his voice echoing and rebounding, spiraling up and up and up to where Peter stood preparing to tie his thin rope to the bar he had taken from the bed. "Here I come, dear Peter, to do what I should have done a long, long time ago!" Flagg's grin broadened and now he looked terrible indeed he looked like a demon which might have climbed lately from some reeking pit in the earth. He raised the executioner's axe; drops of the slain warder's blood fell onto his face and ran down his cheeks like tears. "Here I come, dear Peter, to chop off your head!" Flagg screamed and began to run up the stairs.
2
Dennis, the last one in, had closed the door behind him and shot the bolt. Now a single great blow fell on that door. The stout hardwood panels, reinforced with bands of iron, boomed. Peter looked over his shoulder, eyes widening. Dennis and Naomi cringed backward. Frisky stood before her mistress, snarling. Her gray-green eyes showed the whites all around. "Let me pass!" Flagg roared. "Let me pass the door!" "Peter!" Ben shouted, and drew his sword. "Stand away!" Peter shouted back. "If you value your lives stand away! All of you, stand away!" They scattered back just as Flagg's fist, now glowing with blue fire, slammed down against the door again. Hinges, bolt, and iron bands all burst at the same time with the noise of an exploding cannon. Blue fire spoked through the cracks between the boards in narrow rays. Then the stout planks burst apart. Shattered chunks of wood flew in a spray. The ragged remains of the door stood for a moment longer and then fell inward with a handclap sound. Flagg stood in the corridor, his hood fallen back. His face was waxen white. His lips were strips of liver drawn back to show his teeth. His eyes flared with furnace fire. In his hand he grasped his heavy executioner's axe.
While the nature of the 'blue fire' in the second one is left vague, these seem like fairly usable feats to put towards determining Flagg's striking strength. What say you all?
However, I recently reread 'Eyes of the Dragon' (in which Flagg appears) and I came across these:
1
The unfortunate Lesser Warder who finally answered Flagg's summons lived less than four seconds after drawing the third bolt on the Warders' Door. He caught a nightmare glimpse of a white face, glaring red eyes, and a black cloak that blew backward in the dying breeze like the wings of a raven. He screamed. Then the air was filled with a dry whooshing sound. The Lesser Warder, who was still half drunk, looked up just as Flagg's battle-axe split his head in two. "Next time someone knocks in the name of the King, bestir yourselves and you won't have a mess to clean up in the morning!" Flagg bellowed. Then, laughing wildly, he kicked aside the body and stroke up the corridor toward the stairs. Things were still all right. He had awakened to the danger in time. He knew it. He felt it. He opened a door on the right and stepped into the main corridor leading away from the courtroom where Anders Peyna had once dispensed justice. At the end of that corridor, the stairs began. He looked up, grinning his dreadful, sharklike grin. "Here I come, Peter!" he cried happily, his voice echoing and rebounding, spiraling up and up and up to where Peter stood preparing to tie his thin rope to the bar he had taken from the bed. "Here I come, dear Peter, to do what I should have done a long, long time ago!" Flagg's grin broadened and now he looked terrible indeed he looked like a demon which might have climbed lately from some reeking pit in the earth. He raised the executioner's axe; drops of the slain warder's blood fell onto his face and ran down his cheeks like tears. "Here I come, dear Peter, to chop off your head!" Flagg screamed and began to run up the stairs.
2
Dennis, the last one in, had closed the door behind him and shot the bolt. Now a single great blow fell on that door. The stout hardwood panels, reinforced with bands of iron, boomed. Peter looked over his shoulder, eyes widening. Dennis and Naomi cringed backward. Frisky stood before her mistress, snarling. Her gray-green eyes showed the whites all around. "Let me pass!" Flagg roared. "Let me pass the door!" "Peter!" Ben shouted, and drew his sword. "Stand away!" Peter shouted back. "If you value your lives stand away! All of you, stand away!" They scattered back just as Flagg's fist, now glowing with blue fire, slammed down against the door again. Hinges, bolt, and iron bands all burst at the same time with the noise of an exploding cannon. Blue fire spoked through the cracks between the boards in narrow rays. Then the stout planks burst apart. Shattered chunks of wood flew in a spray. The ragged remains of the door stood for a moment longer and then fell inward with a handclap sound. Flagg stood in the corridor, his hood fallen back. His face was waxen white. His lips were strips of liver drawn back to show his teeth. His eyes flared with furnace fire. In his hand he grasped his heavy executioner's axe.
While the nature of the 'blue fire' in the second one is left vague, these seem like fairly usable feats to put towards determining Flagg's striking strength. What say you all?
