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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 289013" data-attributes="member: 227">I think I'm going to return to writing this story hour as a mix of summary and chosen pieces of the actual text, rather than a total text reformat - I think it'll just be a bit easier for me to write it all up <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" />Volunteers, Anyone?Latorath listened attentively to Kale's ideas, nodding as he did so. "I can indeed use my magic to protect from fire, though the individual in question might well still be scorched - I can't guarantee full shielding from the firebombs. They'd need to carry... five, maybe six vials, detonate them all at once, if they hoped to drive off or kill any werewolves close enough to lunge at them."The inquisitor then listened carefully to the words of Burl as he too outlined some measures to combat the lycanthropes. "Your plan with the bandages, although somewhat gruesome, is well thought - I'm just not sure whether these werewolves would be crazed enough to take the lure of a few bloodied rags. As for tossing the body out to the pack,"the man's voice hardened, "I refuse to allow the corpse to be desecrated in such a vile way, especially a follower of Solanthar. Your priestess companion speaks well - that was once a man and as such I will not see him used as bait nor fodder for ravening fiends such as those outside. As a priest of Solanthar I cannot stand by and allow such a thing to happen." He snorted. "If perhaps we had some werewolf corpses, then the foul things could be used for such a purpose, but all we possess in that vein is our captive lycanthrope chained up in the priest's quarters, and I want her kept alive."It was obvious from the reactions of the others that they agreed with the Inquisitor on the matter of using corpses as bait. The necromancer's idea had been expedient, certainly, but at a fundamental level too gruesome a concept for most of them to stomach, and certainly not something they would undertake if they could avoid it. Burl was just beginning to realize that there was a fundamental difference of opinion between most people and those who chose his field of study. To Burl, the human body was just a vessel for the soul, no difference from an old ale or wine barrel that had outlived it’s usefulness. However, since he seemed to be in the minority, he would have to keep his ideas to himself from now on or continue to draw unwanted attention to himself.[/color]"Now, we need to organise both a party to sally out to the forge, and who is to undertake the distraction. The sallying party will take a number of weapons and bolts with them for silvering in the forge; the blacksmith assures me he possesses a few silver bars anyway, normally for use for ornamenting, and adding a few iron bars to increase the total amount we can make shouldn't decrease the effectiveness of the silver in any sizeable way."[/color] As he spoke, the parish priest headed into the back rooms and returned with a small chest of silver coins; offering the tithes he had accrued for times of emergency as further material for silvering weapons. Kale took the moment to look around the temple, seeing the shafts of light illuminating the knots of weary villagers clustered within the sanctuary. How much would be lost here, if our little plans fail? Kale pondered, shifting his weight on his heals as he sized up the situation. Squaring himself against the increasing burdens of reality, the young mercenary set his jaw, and listened determinedly."We couldn't free her, mustn't kill her, but what if the woman was to plead the lives of her family from the back gate? While the crew runs out the front to the smithy- we could have our first distraction." Kale thought aloud, his first real low-risk idea the entire day. Latorath regarded the four mercs with exceeding patience, but as Kale looked to the Inquisitor, he hoped that his simple suggestion would help smooth out any ruffled feathers and dinged confidence as a result of their earlier reckless ideas.But to gets the smithy crew back? That still left the question of "who is to undertake this distraction." Kale clenched his jaw at the mention, conscious now more than ever of his environment. Great warriors before him, hopeful villagers- how much did they hear?- and crew companions who knew he was certainly no god... The promise of quick healing regardless, the concept of baiting wolves and immolating oneself was wholly unreal. His eyes ran over the temple once more- their condition hadn't changed: a huddled mass, counting the moments. What he did here would be reflected in so many eyes: villagers who through necessity endured the unbearable, veteran warriors who had seen all this and more, and a young trio who hoped to see some more. Images in those eyes, all he could be, all he wasn't, what little he was... for what little it mattered. Different ways to see the same man, amounting to what? Failure and death- close partners today. If I just make it to tomorrow, then whatever I am... it'll be enough. Kale stood straight and relaxed. To occupy his hands, he eased them behind to a casual parade rest. These warriors before him- to speak up to the task felt an inexcusable act of ego. Kale would run, and he would burn, and he could very likely die... but it wouldn't be for merit, it wouldn't be for ego, it wouldn't be for 'honor.' And the gods know it wouldn't be for The Cause. A little task, for Kale alone. He could prepare when the others had left to the forge, hiding his emotions then from the Sun God's Champions who remained. He could do all this, or die. It was a world of small choices, but Kale stood ready to walk out the few before him. "I'll do it." </blockquote>

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