His spell having gone off, Lambert draws his sling and loads it with a bullet.
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Lambert remained in his spot, hurriedly casting a spell. The plants around began to writhe and twist, grasping at anyone who came into their reach.
Lambert, knowing well enough to keep his mouth shut in situations like this for the far more eloquent members of the party, nodded in reply to their offer. A fair enough deal, in theory.
Lambert sat back for a while, weighing the consequences versus the reward. Finally, he shoved his chair back and stood. "S'pose I'm in..."
"Burn it?" Lambert let out a short derisive laugh at Mike's suggestion. "I'm with Ulan on this one. Don't let the mob take control, or else we're behaving as badly as they are."
Again, Lambert loads his sling and tries to fire at the lizardman atop the rock.
...and once again displays a lack of ranged prowess.
Placing one of the magic stones in the sling, Lambert fires at the lizard atop the rock.
... Nope. Lambert sighs in frustration.
Lambert was slow to leave the site of the frog's attack, visibly frustrated with the way that the battle had turned out. He was even more subduded and sullen than normal (if such a thing were possible) as the remaining men pressed onward. He had long ago accepted the cycle of life and death for being what it was, but this... This frustrated him. Worse yet, he was not quite sure why it bothered him so strongly. He kept quiet when they stumbled on the tribe of lizardmen, though he was just as quick to being up his weapon defensively as they were. He watched them warily for any sign of reaction as the others attempted to initiate peaceful dialogue. Truth be told, he would be surprised if they were successful in their endeavor.
Seeing Drelsh in trouble, Lambert let the stone fly from his sling.
Lambert sighed inwardly as the rest of the party burst forward and began attacking the frogs. They were horrifyingly massive, yes, but still... Oh well. Time to get in on this mess too. Drawing his sling, Lambert fished a small bullet from the pouch at his waist, loading the small weapon for preparation should the other frog decide to attack.
Lambert, scowling as he found himself in the front of the line, chose to leave his horse behind for this excursion. The creature would probably be more of a hindrance than a help in the swampy environment, once he had thought about it. He went slowly along the path, ensuring that the dwarves had no trouble in keeping up. It helped him follow the mess of tracks more easily too, though they weren't exactly difficult to follow in the first place...
Lambert, maintaining his usual routine of silence, rides along with the others. His expression, though it was always dour, had an unusually grim cast to it. His frown deepened as they approached the hamelet, and his gaze followed the girl as she motiomed towards the marsh.
Not that he could drudge up much about the place. It was a place he had been told to avoid for years, for reasons that were now obvious. Hmm. Like Mike, Lambert also kept a watch out for any tracks that would be of use.
Timeskip writing things:
Finally. This mess was all over and he was able to go back home. Lambert was almost in a good mood once the group had disbanded and he made his way back. Back to his home, back to the lord's grounds, and back to his routines. Plus, there was also the happy bag of gold rattling at his hip. Things hadn't turned out so bad, after all.
For the first week, Lambert found that he slipped back into life easily. With him being gone, the lord's grounds and gardens had begun to creep from their obsessively-maintained neatness to a more natural state. That kept him busy for the next few days as he worked to regain control. In that time, he had little else to think about but his work. He was nothing if not dedicated to his job. As things returned to their normal flow, Lambert found himself becoming increasingly restless. It took him a while to figure out why. When he had been out on militia duty, he had only thought about wrapping the job up as fast as possible and getting back home. Now, he found his mind constantly wandering back to that journey more and more often. It took him nearly another week until the realization finally hit him: he was bored. Bored of living the same routines day in and day out, bored of sticking in one spot, and bored of... well, just about everything. This put his mind to work, in ways it hadn't worked in a long time. He needed a change. A change of scenery, a change of lifestyle, a change of.... well, something. Maybe put some of his mother's magic lessons to use. Only... Market day. Lambert hated market day. Too noisy, too crowded, and more often than not he wound up running into one of his less-than-beloved brothers. He usually avoided it, though today he had little choice in the matter. Something had to be done. And to do that, he had to meet a man that usually only appeared on market day. Lambert arrived early, while the majority of the town still slumbered. A few of the local farmers and peddlars were out and about, setting up shop for the day's events. One look at the stalls told him all he needed to know. The man he was seeking out wasn't exactly a friend- more like an acquaintance, but one that he knew reasonably well. As expected, Lambert found Jerry in the Happy Cow tavern, finishing his morning pancakes. Lambert strode purposefully towards him, plunking himself down in the unoccupied chair across the table from the farmer. “Jerry. I have a favor I need to ask of you...”
Lambert, ever the cheerful and sociable one, maintains his usual silence and distance from the others during the entire day. He was somewhat unsurprised that parts of the otherwise merry band came to sit with him during the meal. He did not, however, expect the dwarves to be as friendly as they were acting now. He was not quite sure how to react to that. "Mm," he mumbled. Then, a small nod to Ulan and his offer of drink. "Thanks," came the mumbled reply, but he made no move to take the ale.
Startled from his sleep, Lambert scrambles for his spear as he rises to join in the fray.
"Mm," came the response. It wasn't much of a reply, but it was less sharp than his previous brief instances of communication. He didn't linger for much longer by the fire after that. One had to get what sleep they could, after all.
Lambert finally stopped pretending to be busy with caring for the fire, in which he sat back and finally stared Mike flatly in the eye. "Why." It was more of a statement than a question, and delivered in his usual ever-so-charming manner.
Drelsh's comment finally broke Lambert's silence. It came as a sardonic bark of laughter, as incredulous as it was derisive. "Treason for a spell that went wild and people ran into? Like to see them try and hang me for that one." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lambert's watch was spent in his usual dour silence, where he seemed more interested in prodding the fire than he was in actually keeping a serious watch. He raises an eyebrow when Mike rises to join him at the fire. "...Fine," he responded, a bit too sharply.
Lambert could only glower in response. He was not surprised to encounter this degree of fallout from the fight's aftermath-- he himself knew well enough that he had mucked things up without getting yelled at by half the traveling party. But was he ever going to openly admit it, with such hostile stares and demands for an explanation? Never. It was an old defense of his, just to stare back at his accusers sullenly. Eventually the others would lose interest, and thoroughly ignore him. That was what he was hoping for.
Lambert glowered at the scene before him. That was not how he had expected things to unfold. With no weapon in hand, he decided to hold back for the moment. No use getting himself involved any more than he had to...
After the initial wave of activity, Lambert is now better prepared to deal with the snake. This time he casts a spell to put the creature to sleep.
"Bloody--!" Lambert bit off a curse as he remembered his bearings and quickly cast a spell. Hopefully he could put the creature to sleep and safely get it removed.
Lambert failed to react to Drelsh's joke, but he did react to Mike's friendly gesture. Shaking off the other man with a surprising ferocity, Lambert jumped to his feet, taking a step back to escape the range of Mike's grasp. He glared at the other man, once more taking his time to garner a verbal response. "No." And that was that. Lambert stalked away from the fire and the group, choosing to go tend to the horses, well away from the others.
Lambert blinked and stared at Mike's inquiry with a strange sort of dull, sullen wariness. He was quiet to the point that one thought he would not answer, but he finally offered a slow shrug. "Long. Too long." and after that he lapsed once more into his usual silence, focusing his efforts on tending the fire, as before.
Lambert, who had pointedly avoided getting involved with the conversation and 'investigation' of the night prior, had departed for bed almost immediately after they had begun their discussion. That made him up early in response. With Bryn tending to the horses, Lambert offers assistance, though as always he keeps silent.
Lambert sat back and listened as the conversation progressed, but his expression took on a slightly more sour tone than usual at Meldar's approach and proposal. Escorting caravans now? Really? He obviously was less than enthused with the notion. Of course, he said nothing and grew pointedly more interested in picking at his food.
With the others doing more than their share of keeping the campsite stocked with firewood, Lambert occupies himself in keeping the fire tended to. He settles in quietly for the duration of his watch when the time comes.
Lambert opens his mouth as if to say something when Drelsh barks out his orders, but stops himself before uttering anything. Instead he simply closes his mouth and shrugs before glancing towards Bryn and setting off as instructed.
Lambert is quiet throughout the night, eating little, drinking less, and barely uttering a word. He rises surprisingly early in the morning, and gets ready quickly and with a surprising efficiency. On the road, he proceeds along as quietly as the day before.
Lambert, being his usual conversational self, follows silently along with the others, not uttering a single word during their trek. It was not until they gathered at the inn at Liam's Hold that Lambert finally seemed to take notice and interest in the conversation around him. "Wolves?"
"Mm," Lambert's lack of a proper response was accompanied with a small nod at Doc's speech. Right, yeah. He could work with that. He did not, however, proceed to offer any verbal responses beyond that. Instead he gazed at the others' conversations with a veiled disinterest, more out of a lack of anything else to do than genuine curiosity. When called into line, Lambert does as he is instructed... More or less. His form and posture leaves much to be desired, as he slouches against his simple spear. He pulls a bit of a face at Sherlen's speech, but remains characteristically quiet. He simply shakes his head at the inquiry for questions.
He had not been looking forward to this day. Of course, Lambert rarely looked forward to any days that provided a disruption in the otherwise rigid routine that was his daily life. But militia duty was its own special case. Three days of boredom, month in and month out. How anyone chose to make a career of it was beyond him. He had lingered in his small home for as long as he could manage, hoping that perhaps some miracle would appear from down the lane, forever releasing him from the monthly inconvenience. As always, no miracle came, and so Lambert had no choice but to report to the barracks, dragging his small bundle of supplies and neccesary gear with him. As he pushed aside the heavy door, Lambert offered a mumbling incoherent... well. It was close enough to a greeting that it could be passed off as one. He then found a reasonable enough spot along the wall to toss his things and lean up against it himself. Gods be good, let these three days pass by quickly...
Such scandal!
Here's Langsford's character submission. Let me know if anything needs changing up. |