Looking back Kazador said coldly ”Everyone dies. Just ask all the pirates we killed.” His enthusiasm on having survived was quickly waning. ”If ye all need me, I’ll see to the wounded and then am getting some rest.”
With the flaming ship behind him, Kazador did just that.
"Tiyeri's in charge, bother her about it!" Muse calls back without even turning his head.
In her quietly authoritarian way, Tiyeri orders "Torval, get all hands on deck, make sure this ship isn't going to sink beneath our feet. Mathis, keep us steady in the water."
Nervous at being asked to handle a possibly crippled ship with only twelve months on the water, Mathis replies with a "yes ma'am, on it, ma'am," and hopes he doesn't screw up too badly.
Picking up her hat from where the explosion flung it, Tiyeri turns to Fyrtor and says, "let's go rescue the Serpent."
Seeing the anger on Kazador’s face, Algric put a hand on the dwarf’s chest to hold him back.
”Let it go. Everyone is upset. Saying anything will just make it worse.”
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Eyes blazing Kazador took a deep breath to calm himself. He was dripping wet as he stood there, staring daggers at Brolin and Mel. Finally, with an angry grunt he turned and stomped off, muttering to himself.
”Never bloody mind. Would rather kiss an orc than bloody well fight with any of you. Maybe next time we’ll ride in on white damn horses and kill the bad guys like a stupid fairy tale! Why I-mutter mutter grumble grumble...”
When he got to the first injured sailor he glared daggers at the man, now just angry in general, as he healed the man’s wounds. Muttering darkly, his hammer gripped tight like he was ready to keep fighting, he healed as much as he could. As the runes went cold, he finally went below deck.
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With concern and embarrassment Algric watched his Thane. The boyer hoped that nobody could hear or understand what was being said. It was tense enough on the ship enough.
”Should have just shot the pirate...” He said to himself, with more than a hint of regret.
"(Sigh) Ok, Tiyeri, what do we do? I can summon a sleet storm inside the ship, or I can create water on individual fires. I won't pretend to know much about ships, you'll have to direct me."
I don't know exactly what happened here, but it was sounds like a bad situation no matter what was done. Either way I need to keep busy.
Mel, will you be joining us in this fool's errand? I think the Captain and Kazador need some time alone.
Mel turns and looks at the burning ship. A bit of flaming sail detaches and flutters away in the wind, meeting the cold ocean waters with a hiss.
"Well ... have we got a bucket? Because beyond that, I don't think there's much I could do to help. What a mess."
"Can you speak Aquan? I could summon water elementals to help with the work, but I don't speak their language."
Mel shakes her head. "No. I can speak Common, Elven, Sylvan, Celestial, AND DWARVEN." The last of this is not directed anywhere in particular, but notably louder.
Doing his best to control himself, Kazador said back in common, in as controlled a voice as possible ”I am trying. To. Not to...” He bit his lip. That wasn’t helpful. ”Just...let me fookin’ blow off steam, ok?!” Another deep breath. ”I did my fookin’ best, alright?! If ye think ye...argh! Just leave me be.”
Damn it. So much for being tactful. He though unhappily. He was getting his confidence back. He had his arms and armor. He was being called thane, treated with respect. But with that so was his old pride and anger. Get it together Kazador. He better than this. You promised yourself you would.
"Ok well time is waisting, let's get to this"
Mel retrieves one of the buckets the Sonder crew uses when swabbing the decks. It already has a rope attached to it for drawing water from the sea -- no sense wasting pure water on mopping! She sets about aiding as best she can.
Tiyeri helps with another bucket, and expert advice.
"If we're to save the ship, we should hurry," the catfolk agrees.
"Watch your step," Tiyeri warns, proceeding to give Fyrtor a running commentary on where it's safe to put his feet, walking him through the dangerous ordeal step-by-step.
As Frytor first steps into the burning ship he covers his face to cut the smoke, but he loses his balance and falls. "Dann it! Why did I (cough) think this was a good idea?"
Standing up he finds his center. He moves quickly to the crater midship that used to be the deck and under Tiyeri's direction casts sleet storm to quench the majority of the internal fires.
After that the moves to join the crew of the Sonder in putting out the fires in the exterior of the ship, casting create water over and over. It takes longer than they would like. "I hope we can get this lump of char to the beach. Tiyeri, is that enough? What do we do now?"
Fyrtor moves quickly and nimbly with Tiyeri giving advice and Mel dumping water in key spots with her rope-bucket. The Serpent no longer burns but rides very low in the water and is still taking on water.
Arms aching from hauling buckets of water, Mel peers down into the hold. "I can't make out much -- it's a mess down there -- but it's definitely taking on water!" Mel calls.
She thinks a moment. "Does the Sonder have a spare sail? And ropes? Fyrtor, can you conjure wind at all? We have to beach it or it'll sink right here."
Looking around at the devastation -- sails largely incinerated, fragmented ropes lying hither and yon across the scarred deck, charred body parts crushed into odd nooks by the force of the blast -- Mel thinks It's a miracle it's not on the bottom of the sea already. This sucker must be plated in solid adamantine to have survived that blast at all!
She glances sidelong at one of the dead crew, and whispers a quick prayer. "Jumalatar, nähdä heidän hengensa nopeasti lepäämään. Älä anna heidän päästää vihansa eläville."
"I could summon a wind, but I didn't prepare to, and I can't do so now"
Retrieving said sail, and mustering the necessary manpower for the task, Tiyeri will attempt to get the vessel to shore. If it looks like they won’t make it to shallow water before the Serpent sinks, she’ll order everyone back to the Sonder well in advance if it’s going down.
Under Tiyeri's direction, the crew of the Sonder gets the Serpent beached on the woody island at high tide. It's clear the heavily damaged vessel is far from seaworthy. The Sonder itself has taken heavy damage itself, springing several leaks and losing the forast.
Exhausted, soaked, and covered with muddy soot, Mel claps Fyrtor and Tiyeri on the shoulder, lips curved in a smile. "That was excellent work," she says. "I was all set to give up on the ship and let it sink. But Fyrtor had the vision to try and save it, not to mention the magic to deal with those flames. And Tiyeri and the Sonder's crew had the skill to keep it afloat long enough to get it ashore."
She grows more serious. "But there's one thing more we must do. Many people died violently on this ship -- some by the blade, some by that ... black powder. We need to lay them properly to rest. Otherwise, I fear some of them may return in undeath. The druids of this isle helped us greatly; I do not want to leave them a plague of restless spirits as their reward."
And with that, Mel begins the grim task of gathering up the remains of the Serpent's crew.
Mel sets about gathering up the dead, a gruesome task given the dismembered nature of many of them. It takes her a while to dig a grave for all of them but she manages it with grim determination, her thin arms stronger than they look.
With the Serpent beached, it becomes clear that this ship is a complete loss. But perhaps it is still worth searching? Though no doubt many of the valuables did not survive the blast…
Mel finishes her task well after dark, not at all sure she found everyone in the areas belowdecks, which were dark and waterlogged.. The stars are out and shining bright above when she finishes digging the grave. Weary, she looks over the row of corpses.
She lays the remains in it as respectfully as possible, making a point of removing any weapons they were holding -- just in case. It's nearing midnight and the moon is high in the sky by the time she finishes.
She stands in front of the grave. "Go to whatever reward you've earned," she says. "And leave these mortal shells to rest in peace."
During the time Mel is dealing with the dead Frytor returns to the Sonder to speak to the Captain. Tired and filthy he approaches the man who is busying himself with emptying out his office, "Thank you, for what you for saving me. Mel told me how you risked yourself to stop the bleeding. If there is anything I can do to repay the kindness you have shown me please name it. I... I'm sorry about your man. I'm sorry I didn't do more to help."
After a long pause he continues, "I'm going to join the druids for the night, but if you are up to it tomorrow, I want to speak with my father. If not I understand, it's been black day. It will be a while before I am rightly myself again. Anyways, tomorrow."
Then he seeks out Kazador. "Master dwarf, I owe a great debt to you. Mel told me how you saved me from the ship and my certain death. If there is anything I can do to repay your kindness please tell me. As it is I go to join the druids for the night. I hope tomorrow will be a better day than this."
These people, they risked themselves for me. I would have done the same for them, but it is a rare thing to find people who would chance so much on a stranger. I hope I can do something for them in return, more than getting myself nearly killed and needing their aid.
Mel finds many potion bottles scorched and torn with their contents spilled out, belts burnt, wands crumbling into dust, and a headband scorched. Even some of the coins are melted but they look to have retained most of their value. She also notes three rings and two longswords that survived and seem magical. The total value of the coins she's able to find on the pirates (not including Van Beem) and the ship amounts to 5000 gp.
Kelian walks over to help Mel with her grim work in silence. After they've finished, he finally speaks up "Mel. Are you ok?"
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"If Brickenden were here, he'd quote a passage from Abadar's Book of Numbers." The dirty, tired crew of the Sonder stand around the open grave under the light of the moon. Torval continues, the typically surly half-elf more amicable under the circumstances. "My memory isn't as good as his, so I don't have any of Abadar's wisdom to share."
"When Brickenden volunteered to stay abovedecks, he knew the risk," blatantly untrue, he was warned and warded against arrows, "but he did it anyway. Today we're avenged for Jac, Hardam, and Krissa, and before long we'll know how it is van Beem's pirates knew to attack our crew. And it's thanks to Brickenden."
The crew of the Sonder fill in the grave and return to their ship.
I never should have gotten involved.
Clearing space for van Beem, the captain shovels papers and charts and doodles and keepsakes off of the floor and every available surface, cramming them in or under drawers.
I made the call, risk vs reward, and I dragged Brickenden to his death.
The drawer isn't closing, so Muse kicks it. That shuts the drawer, but something inside breaks. Shattering glass. What the hell? There's nothing glass in the- oh. The mask. The fifty gold piece ceramic mask I got in Feldnost. That's wonderful. Just wonderful.
Muse looks around for something to hit, but everything in the room is his. He goes back to what he was doing.
Sonder's trashed, I'll have to fight tooth and nail with the Guild to get them to pay for repairs, until then I'll have to front the money myself, maybe borrow it -
You sound, the voice in his head says, like a teapot. Just this kind of high-pitched whistling.
I do it when I'm frustrated, Muse apologizes.
Would it help, Omit asks, if you had someone to talk to?
Brolin thinks about it. It's just . . . I shouldn't have gotten involved in this. I should have let someone else handle it. Waited until the marines had a ship available. When they're all busy trying to keep a war from breaking out. I don't know. But I got involved and now Brickenden's dead. And it's all my fault.
I'd think, the dead wizard speculates, that the pirate who exploded his ship would be at fault. For exploding his ship. Y'know, with explosives.
Muse disagrees. No. I'm responsible. That's a phase with a couple meanings, some of them . . . some of them more accurate than others. I'm the captain, everything's my fault. Someone has to be responsible for it, and blaming other people doesn't . . . doesn't change anything. If I blame myself, then I don't do . . . things like this ever again. If I pretend it's someone else's bad decision, I make the same mistake next time.
Omit doesn't have arms, so she can't shrug. Whatever makes you happy, I suppose?
It's not about being happy, it's about . . . about making sure that bad things don't happen to people I like, by being on top of things. Today I wasn't.
Idly, Captain Muse pulls his Anytool out of his pocket and checks the time. Damnit. It's getting close to midnight, why didn't Captain Blackskull come tell me to hurry it up or something? Grabbing the crate of things he can't do without for as long as van Beem needs to occupy a room of the ship, Muse shoulders the door open (his hands are occupied) and nearly runs over Fyrtor.
"Thank you, for what you for saving me. Mel told me how you risked yourself to stop the bleeding. If there is anything I can do to repay the kindness you have shown me please name it. I... I'm sorry about your man. I'm sorry I didn't do more to help."
After a long pause he continues, "I'm going to join the druids for the night, but if you are up to it tomorrow, I want to speak with my father. If not I understand, it's been black day. It will be a while before I am rightly myself again. Anyways, tomorrow."
Muse is surprised. He wasn't thinking about how Fyrtor might feel. The idea that Fyrtor might be grateful to him strikes the captain as downright bizarre. The two of them were on a team, and they worked as a team; Brolin might not be alive if it weren't for Fyrtor's cloud, or even for Fyrtor's distracting van Beem long enough for the captain to get in position.
"Oh. It was nothing, really. Anyone would have done the same. I was just closest, and most capable. But" Muse decides, "there is something you can do for me. I'm off to drink myself stupid, and it'd be nice if you could keep me from falling off the side of the boat."
"there is something you can do for me. I'm off to drink myself stupid, and it'd be nice if you could keep me from falling off the side of the boat."
Hearing this Frytor responds with a glum chuckle, "That is something I can most definitely do. And no it was not nothing. You helped to save my life at the risk of your own. That's not something just anybody would do. I won't forget. I need to go talk to Kazador, I'll join you after I'm done thanking him for his part as well."
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Mel looks at Kelian in surprise. "No," she says. "Of course not. I haven't been okay in some time."
Kelian nods. "Yeah... I know, Mel. Me either. I've been rushing along on this crazy ride so I don't stop and think too much about what is happening." The young man shakes his head and presses the heels of his palms hard into his eyes. He inhales sharply but his breath catches and he starts sobbing. "I can't believe Allen and Cyrus are dead... They were good friends..."
Mel puts an arm around Kelian's shoulder. "They were good people," she murmurs. "It's all right to mourn them. They deserve it, and so do you."
When Fyrtor found Kazador, the dwarf was sitting cross legged in front of his armor and hammer, praying. He looked up as the human entered. In truth, what he wanted more than anything was a strong drink, and he was trying to overcome the urge.
”We’re comrades. Don’t leave comrades to die.” He said miserably. ”You’re a good lad. Don’t change. Don’t owe me anything.”
Without waiting for a response he turned back to his runic arms and armor to continue his prayers.
When the dwarf is done speaking Frytor nods, and turns to go. Under his breath he says, "Still, I will not forget." He then leaves the dwarf to continue his prayers.
Returning to the Captain, Frytor watches him and his crew as they drink and remember their lost friend. Watching he is impressed. These people are as odd a bunch as I've seen, but somehow they just fit together. I ought to get to know them all better. I don't think they'll be disappearing any time soon; the ship is in rough shape, but I may as well get started.
Taking a glass from one of the men he raises both the glass and his voice, "I'd like to say something. I don't know most of you very well, and I didn't know Brickenden at all. But what I saw to day and what I am watching now is amazing.
It is a rare thing to have friends so brave. It is a rare thing to find a man who will face down pirates when he could turn aside. Whatever Brickenden may have done in life he proved his worth in how he died. May the Dawnflower watch over his soul and all the members of this crew."
With that he tips back his drink and downs the whole of it in a single draught.
Kelian dobs a little longer then begins speaking in a slow, trembling, unstable voice ounctuated by deep inhalations. "Allen taught me how to carve a handle... He was so patient with me even though I was a clumsy kid... And Cyrus showed me how to lay a trap." A wry smile crosses Kelian's face. "Before he gave up trapping." He looks across the cove for a minute then lets his head hang down. "What am I supposed to do, Mel? The world's too big and mean."
Mel hesitates a moment. "Your father Vors is one of the best men I've ever met," she tells Kelian. "He served in the army; he has fought, and he has killed. But he never, ever let those things become him. He fought, but only to defend his community. He killed, but only in the heat of battle. He demanded a fair deal for everyone, even his enemies. Even Halak. Even Elrin. He was right to stop me from killing Elrin."
"I am not at all happy about what happened today. Primarily because of Kazador's choice not to talk when the pirates tried to negotiate. I believe that talking is always better than fighting, and especially better than killing. Talking always has to be an option. You can't make peace without talking to your enemy. But ... at the same time, I have to admit that everything was happening so fast. If I had been standing where Kazador was, perhaps I would have made the same choice."
She shakes her head wearily. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, sometimes life gives us hard choices. And once you've made a choice, you have to live with it. But I know you've got what it takes to make good choices, even if they're hard. Trust yourself, stick to your principles, and you will make your father proud."
They sit in silence for a few minutes.
"And Kelian ... if this is too much, there is no shame in admitting it. You're free to go home if you want. Brookside needs help rebuilding. Or you could find something else to do to help -- maybe join the army, like your father did, or the guards, like Cyrus. There are ways you could serve your community honorably that don't involve clandestine raids on pirate ships full of explosives."
Kelian sits up much straighter as Mel's encouragement continues. He nods thoughtfully for a moment. He smiles wryly at her last comment. "I don't want to go yet, Mel. I think that I need to help. Somehow. I haven't really figured out how to yet but there must be something for me to do. I think I can live with this. I'll try." He looks at her earnestly. "Can you live with this?"
After the gathering of the crew dispersed and making sure Captain Brolin made it to his bed, Frytor has himself put out on shore. He then hikes the distance to the druid village. During the short hike he ponders to himself on the events of the day. He is distressed as a tumult of thoughts compete for his attention.
What was that "black powder" stuff? Where did the pirates get such a thing? It doesn't matter I came here to make sure the village would be protected, and now they will be.
But will they be? I must still speak with the Eldest, she said they would protect Woodsdale, but when we'd spoke earlier she said they would only do so for a month. I thought that would be plenty, but what Mel and Muse said... these sort of attack happening other places... will the druids be enough? What about other villages? Ones without a grove to protect them, are there more at risk? Even if they are what could I do about it? I'm just one man, I can't keep everyone safe.
Hell, today I couldn't even keep myself safe. I got on that ship so determined to keep Muse alive, and he ends up pulling my bacon out of the fire instead. Gah! I'm such an idiot sometimes. It was like Dad all over again. ... Dad... Muse said there was part of him here still, in his sword...
Pausing Frytor looks upon his blade. "Dad, if you're here, If you can hear me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't save you. I'm sorry I let the farm go. I... I'm sorry... I'm sorry for a lot of things." After a long moment Frytor resumes his hike determined not to shed tears.
These people, Mel, Muse, the old dwarf, they know something important. They're trying to stop whatever it is that is causing the goblins to attack Woodsdale. After I talk with the Eldest I need to convince them that they can trust me. I can't defend the village without the druids, and if what they say is true the attacks aren't going to stop. The druids won't keep defending Woodsdale forever. If I am going to keep the village safe I need to make sure whatever is causing the attacks stops and sticking to these folks is the best bet I have on making that happen. Besides they saved my life, that's a great debt I owe them.
As he neared the village his racing mind seemed to come to a rest. Tonight I'll sleep with the druids, and in the morning I'll talk with the Eldest. After that I'm going back to the Sonder and I'm not going to let them leave without me. I hope I'm doing the right thing, but I don't see any other way to go forward. Exhausted, but finally at peace with his planned course Frytor entered the druid village ready for a much awaited night's rest.
"I don't see that I have much option but to live with it, Kelian," Mel says. She looks out across the waters of the dark cove, sitting with her arms about her knees. "I told you that you have to live with your choices. Well, when I was faced with a choice between my principles and my country, I chose my principles. That makes me a traitor -- at least in the eyes of the Council. I will probably never be able to go home again."
"That's just the beginning of the things I'm going to have to deal with as a result. But that choice is made. I have to live with it. So I will."
She rises. "I'm exhausted. I have to clean up and go to bed. Good night, Kelian. Thank you for checking on me." And so saying, she makes her way back to the Sonder, scrubs down thoroughly, and falls into a sleep not so dreamless as she might hope.
Brolin wakes up in the middle of the night, sweaty and dehydrated. The thought passes through his mind that maybe he shouldn't have drunk so much before going to sleep, but is quickly replaced by other, more relevant thoughts: such as, 'waking up in the early hours of the morning somewhere between drunk and hungover and desperately needing to pee is the best time to evaluate my life choices and make drastic changes to my manner of living.'
"Who's turn is it?" he mumbles under his breath.
"I am here," Legacy responds, his presence overwhelming. Living with Legacy is like living with the ocean, and Muse has experience with both. You can get used to it, take it for granted, but sometimes at a bad time or at a good one the sheer vastness all around you takes your breath away.
"I think," the captain subvocalizes, "that I need to step the hell away from all this. The powers are fighting. Iustia's king gearing to conquer the continent, the elves pre-empting him by massacring . . . by massacring. And the Bishop said that maybe he could 'play the two of them off each other,' protect his people, and I'm not complaining, because I'm one of his people. But all us, us common folk, elves and Iustrians and citizens of the Bishopric, we're caught in the crossfire, of other people's greed or cold-blooded cost-benefit calculus. Running around trying not to get stepped on by giants who don't realize we're people."
"I have seen lifetimes pass," the First King muses, "without blood shed by human hand. But they are uncommon. Once one hand is raised in anger or powerlust, others must be raised to block and strike back. It is useless to wish for peace, as peace is a fleeting thing, it comes only when there is no one left to do battle, when peace is achieved it is always paid for with the lives of the powerless. Better to make your own peace, make your peace with the reality of war. Above all else, war is eternal."
"That's fricken' lovely," the captain mutters.
Neither of them speak, looking out over the moonlit waves. Muse breaks the silence.
"Just because eventually people will start fighting again, doesn't mean we shouldn't strive for peace while we're alive."
"That is the art and science of war. An end to the fighting . . . with your side victorious."
"What if . . . what if I don't have a side? I have friends in Iustria, and the elven kingdoms. I've been everywhere, I don't hate anybody. When armies march to kill each other, the people dying won't be the people who deserve it."
"If believe someone deserves to die, your allegiance is clear." Legacy says it like it's the simplest thing in the world.
Muse shakes his head. "I thought I should get involved. I thought I had a moral obligation. I screwed up, put everyone in danger, got a friend killed. I'm done. Out. Let the giants fight and stomp around, they can't step on me if I'm on the other side of the continent."
"Who will replace you?" the response is fast, disapproving.
"Why do I need replacing?" Muse shoots back. "I'm a bit player."
"You are the only player," the First King retorts, "fighting for your side. To all others you are a piece in the game, a willing pawn or an unwitting one, perhaps to be sacrificed for a more pressing objective. Only to yourself are you indespensible, only to yourself are your goals sacrosanct. No one else can be relied on."
"I . . ." Muse struggles to get his thoughts in order. "I'm the captain. It's my job to not screw up, because other people pay the price for it. Sometimes, that's me misreading the market, selling the wrong thing in the wrong place and taking acceptable losses, and the investors don't make as much money as they hoped they'd make. That's fine. But this?" Muse makes a sweeping guester with his arm, taking in all the damage to the Sonder, the sails in tatters, a mast taken down to avoid it falling down, patch jobs to keep the water from coming in faster than it can be bailed out. "This isn't. I'm the captain, I'm not allowed to gamble, I'm not allowed to take risks if I can't afford failure. I screwed up, bad, and that's not something captains are allowed to do."
"So leave the boat."
"I - what?"
"The boat. Leave it. Let someone else be a captain. There are more important things, and no one else you trust to do them."
Leave the Sonder? Muse can hardly wrap his mind around the idea. "This is all I've ever wanted," he pleads.
"Lives are short but eventful. Kings become beggers, kings, and then beggers again. We play many parts."
"I've only ever wanted to play one." Looking out over the water, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea.
"There are things more important than doing what you want."
Turning away from the water, Muse looks at his ruined ship. Somewhere beneath his feet, his crew is sleeping. Legacy's words strike a chord there.
"I guess there are," he whispers, despondent.
Kelian nods at Mel's words and lifts himself up off the beach. "Yes I think I'll turn in too."
Frutor wakes from a fitful sleep as the first light of an aproaching dawn appear. Rising he soaked his head in an effort to clear it . The Elstest, I need to find her first
After a quick search he finds her. "Eldest, thank you for sending some of the members of your grove to protect my village. I am worried though. The people who came here, they seemed to think there was more at play than the usually simple motivations that typically drive goblins. I am going to go with them, at least I intend to. I hope we can stop whatever is cauing the attacks, but I don't know if we will be able to within the month. Is there some way we can make sure that if we haven't stopped the attacks before they month is over the village will still be safe?"
The Eldest looks unreadably at Fyrtor. "We will see. Perhaps we will learn something of this conspiracy in our month. If so, we will decide then what part we will play."
"Very well." Taking his leave Frytor begins the hike back to the Sonder's mooring. Along the way he takes time to gather the herbs and other components he will need to make concoctions for a long time, anticipating a long journey ahead.
When he arrived Frytor seeks out the three people he has sensed are at the center of all of this, Mel, Muse, and Kazador.
To the first one he finds he says, "We need to talk. I don't know what exactly is going, but it concerns my village, and so it concerns me. I want to know what's going on and I want to help."[/b]
Mel looks thoughtful, and glances at the others of the group. "Possibly. Please excuse us a moment; we should dicuss it privately first."
Taking Kazador, Captain Muse, and Captain Blackskull to the side, she says "For my part, I am inclined to trust this man. He volunteered for a battle he had no need to fight, and nearly paid for it with his life. His village seems to be in much the same position as Brookside was. His magical abilities would be useful; and judging by his holy symbol he's a follower of Sarenrae, which I consider a solid recommendation. What do you all think? Captain Blackskull, you're the closest thing we have to a direct regular representative of the Bishop, so I'm particularly interested to hear your opinion on the matter."
"I've mentioned before that I'm not great with cloak or dagger, so feel free to disregard my inexpert advice. But my natural inclination's towards giving folks as clear a look at the bigger picture as I can draw them, so's that they can choose what's best for them with their eyes wide open."
Kazador pulled Fyrtor aside.
”Lad. Ye fought well and acted with honor. I’ve heard that ye be interested in comin’ along, seeing who is behind all of this. Aye?”
<Insert Response>
”Aye...well then. Our next step is me and Algric’s home. The ruins of it. It was destroyed by orcs. Until this week when we found each other, I thought I was the last of us. Betrayed we were, by elves. They whipped the orcs up, leading them to attack us, and Brookside. We’re looking to put and end to all this. If ye are to come I’ll gladly fight with ye, but I ask for your oath. To keep the location of my home a secret. Can ye do that?”