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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4111360" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>Decisions</strong></p><p></p><p>A short update, but a fairly pivotal one. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /></p><p></p><p>Sorry the pace of updates has been slow, but most of my creative efforts have been going towards the prep for the epic game. One of the things I'm really looking forward to about 4e is lower prep time. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /></p><p></p><p>Anyway, here's the update</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>“What do you think?” whispers Severin. He glances around.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t know,” murmurs Kifla. “I don’t like the odds. There are <em>a lot</em> of them.”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, but if Barouk doesn’t come back soon...” He trails off as one of the shabbyu men-at-arms sidles a little closer. Speaking a little louder, he says, “Well, those soldiers back a little ways were very helpful.” But the guard stays right where he is, and any further collusion between the heroes will just have to wait. </p><p></p><p>“Look, it’s them,” Romdar calls, pointing up the hillock towards the keep. Indeed, Barouk, the earl and his men are emerging from the cracking walls and starting to move back towards the camp. As Barouk returns to the group, he glares at Romdar, who is with the earl’s men. </p><p></p><p>“So, Romdar, it seems your loyalties have shifted,” the dwarf grumbles.</p><p></p><p>“These people know me. I have to try to find out what I can about my past. My history.”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps you should look to your present, instead.”</p><p></p><p>“Barouk, imagine if you couldn’t remember your clan. Imagine if you didn’t even know who <em>you</em> were.”</p><p></p><p>“I would know what <em>loyalty</em> is.”</p><p></p><p>“I hope to rejoin you later...”</p><p></p><p>“Bah,” Barouk sneers, and turns his back. </p><p></p><p>“You see, Romdar?” the earl says quietly, after Romdar has rejoined him. “They aren’t really your friends anyway. They turn their backs on you as soon as you need something.” He shakes his head sadly.</p><p></p><p>Romdar says nothing.</p><p></p><p>Across the camp, under the predatory eye of well over a dozen men, the rest of our heroes cluster together beneath the sunset.</p><p></p><p>“What did he want you to do?” Kifla asks.</p><p></p><p>“There was some kind of secret chamber. He needed me to open it.” Barouk grits his teeth, thinking about the lajatang. <em>I will avenge you, father.</em> He glares hard towards the earl, who is talking to Romdar. The desire to attack, despite the odds, is so strong that he can barely resist it. He certainly does not <em>want</em> to resist it. He wants to give in and run raging at the bastard, the murderer. </p><p></p><p>But... if he were to fail... his father would remain unavenged. And the odds of failure, right now, are too high. </p><p></p><p>“Can we go now?” he snaps loudly.</p><p></p><p>The earl looks up. Slowly, a smile slides across his lips. “Of course,” he nods. He waves them off with one hand, and then, as if it were an afterthought, adds, “Thank you for your help, Barouk.” </p><p></p><p>It is all Barouk can do to swallow his anger. Whatever it is that the earl got from the locked chamber, it can’t be good. <em>And he’s taunting me. I want to rip those taunts right out of his chest. He killed my father! MURDERED him!</em> He finds himself starting to growl aloud and seizes control of himself. He knows discipline; he must simply exercise it. He breathes deeply, regularly, and the burning anger crawls from his face down into his belly. </p><p></p><p>The party- minus Romdar- makes their escape. They hurry away from the earl’s camp, traveling for several hours into the night before setting up camp.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Watching Romdar walk around the camp like an aimless child, the Earl of Thyrozim cannot help but smirk. He turns to Striker and says, “Take a few men and go after them. Kill or capture them, I don’t care which.”</p><p></p><p>“What?” Romdar says.</p><p></p><p>The earl turns to him. “They are criminals,” he pronounces. “They have stolen from me, the rightful authority on this land!”</p><p></p><p>“They did?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes. And there must be justice. Come now, Romdar, surely you agree.”</p><p></p><p>Romdar glances around at the men-at-arms all around him. “Of course there must be justice.”</p><p></p><p>“And, of course, you are ready to help me, if need be?”</p><p></p><p>“I... those people are my friends. I’ve been traveling with them. I owe them my life. If there must be justice, there must be justice; but if that means that they have to die, I... would prefer not to be involved.”</p><p></p><p>“But you are ready,” the earl presses him, “to help me as I require?”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” Romdar says.</p><p></p><p>“Good!” The earl grins and claps Romdar on the shoulder. “Come, then. Now that that’s all settled, let’s have a little ale.” He turns to Striker. “Go. Get your team.”</p><p></p><p>Striker grins. “I’m on it, milord,” he answers, and then he turns and trots away.</p><p></p><p>Romdar winces.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Betrayal! Attacked in the night! Things get far uglier!!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 4111360, member: 1210"] [b]Decisions[/b] A short update, but a fairly pivotal one. :) Sorry the pace of updates has been slow, but most of my creative efforts have been going towards the prep for the epic game. One of the things I'm really looking forward to about 4e is lower prep time. ;) Anyway, here's the update *** “What do you think?” whispers Severin. He glances around. “I don’t know,” murmurs Kifla. “I don’t like the odds. There are [i]a lot[/i] of them.” “Yeah, but if Barouk doesn’t come back soon...” He trails off as one of the shabbyu men-at-arms sidles a little closer. Speaking a little louder, he says, “Well, those soldiers back a little ways were very helpful.” But the guard stays right where he is, and any further collusion between the heroes will just have to wait. “Look, it’s them,” Romdar calls, pointing up the hillock towards the keep. Indeed, Barouk, the earl and his men are emerging from the cracking walls and starting to move back towards the camp. As Barouk returns to the group, he glares at Romdar, who is with the earl’s men. “So, Romdar, it seems your loyalties have shifted,” the dwarf grumbles. “These people know me. I have to try to find out what I can about my past. My history.” “Perhaps you should look to your present, instead.” “Barouk, imagine if you couldn’t remember your clan. Imagine if you didn’t even know who [i]you[/i] were.” “I would know what [i]loyalty[/i] is.” “I hope to rejoin you later...” “Bah,” Barouk sneers, and turns his back. “You see, Romdar?” the earl says quietly, after Romdar has rejoined him. “They aren’t really your friends anyway. They turn their backs on you as soon as you need something.” He shakes his head sadly. Romdar says nothing. Across the camp, under the predatory eye of well over a dozen men, the rest of our heroes cluster together beneath the sunset. “What did he want you to do?” Kifla asks. “There was some kind of secret chamber. He needed me to open it.” Barouk grits his teeth, thinking about the lajatang. [i]I will avenge you, father.[/i] He glares hard towards the earl, who is talking to Romdar. The desire to attack, despite the odds, is so strong that he can barely resist it. He certainly does not [i]want[/i] to resist it. He wants to give in and run raging at the bastard, the murderer. But... if he were to fail... his father would remain unavenged. And the odds of failure, right now, are too high. “Can we go now?” he snaps loudly. The earl looks up. Slowly, a smile slides across his lips. “Of course,” he nods. He waves them off with one hand, and then, as if it were an afterthought, adds, “Thank you for your help, Barouk.” It is all Barouk can do to swallow his anger. Whatever it is that the earl got from the locked chamber, it can’t be good. [i]And he’s taunting me. I want to rip those taunts right out of his chest. He killed my father! MURDERED him![/i] He finds himself starting to growl aloud and seizes control of himself. He knows discipline; he must simply exercise it. He breathes deeply, regularly, and the burning anger crawls from his face down into his belly. The party- minus Romdar- makes their escape. They hurry away from the earl’s camp, traveling for several hours into the night before setting up camp. *** Watching Romdar walk around the camp like an aimless child, the Earl of Thyrozim cannot help but smirk. He turns to Striker and says, “Take a few men and go after them. Kill or capture them, I don’t care which.” “What?” Romdar says. The earl turns to him. “They are criminals,” he pronounces. “They have stolen from me, the rightful authority on this land!” “They did?” “Yes. And there must be justice. Come now, Romdar, surely you agree.” Romdar glances around at the men-at-arms all around him. “Of course there must be justice.” “And, of course, you are ready to help me, if need be?” “I... those people are my friends. I’ve been traveling with them. I owe them my life. If there must be justice, there must be justice; but if that means that they have to die, I... would prefer not to be involved.” “But you are ready,” the earl presses him, “to help me as I require?” “Yes,” Romdar says. “Good!” The earl grins and claps Romdar on the shoulder. “Come, then. Now that that’s all settled, let’s have a little ale.” He turns to Striker. “Go. Get your team.” Striker grins. “I’m on it, milord,” he answers, and then he turns and trots away. Romdar winces. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Betrayal! Attacked in the night! Things get far uglier!! [/QUOTE]
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