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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1338286" data-attributes="member: 143">d12, I made a few comments in your thread, based on what I've learned "running" this series. The AP is a tough series, but for a writer who loves to torment his characters, it's a great source.* * * * * Chapter 100Zenna sat on the ground in a miserable heap, wrapped in the scorched remnants of her cloak, rocking back and forth slightly, though the wind had died as though the dragon’s passing had stolen it away.  “Zenna,” Dannel said softly, coming over to where she sat on the cold earth, a good distance from the others.  “Leave me alone,” she said, turning away, betraying the source of her misery as she tried to tug up her cowl to conceal her features.  The battered threads had taken too much abuse, however, and the hood came off in her hand, the last few strands tearing away as she tugged on them.  Disconsolate, she tossed the fabric away. “Zenna,” the elf said, a bit more firmly.  “You have to get up.  The others need you.”She looked up at him, her eyes wet with the tears that she only held back through concerted effort.  No, I cannot show weakness, not to him... “I need you.”His words broke through her resolution, and she let out a sob as the tears released down her cheeks.  But after a moment, she restored control, and as her face darkened.  “Don’t mock me... I don’t have a mirror handy, but I can imagine how I look right now.”  Magical healing had restored her body, but it couldn’t replace the hair that had been burned away from half of her head, nor could it make the regrown skin look natural, the pinkish patches of fresh growth forming splotches where they intersected with paler, unblemished skin, where an accidental placement of an article of clothing had provided protection. She met his gaze with a cold look.  “Get used to it, the hat’s gone, so you’ll have to face the real me from here on.”  Unable to maintain the challenge in her stare, she abruptly looked away. He came forward, knelt in front of her.  She tried to shy away, but he grabbed her by the arms, a little too roughly, perhaps, forcing her to look at him.  What she saw in his eyes, though, when she could finally meet them, wasn’t anger, but warmth. “It was always the real you,” he told her.  “The person that I care about, Zenna.”He reached up, and she didn’t shy away as he gently touched the side of her face.  Then he pulled her forward—or she fell forward, it wasn’t quite clear—and they held each other close. Not far distant, amidst a patch of soil churned up by the claws of the dragon, Arun helped Hodge to his feet.  The dwarf looked a sight worse than Zenna, although it was difficult to discern what was the result of the dragon’s assault and what was part of his normally disheveled appearance.  Arun offered him a second vial of healing elixir—he’d had to pour the first down the unconscious dwarf’s throat, as he’d spent all of his divinely granted healing energy restoring Zenna to consciousness earlier.  It was his last healing potion, but he offered it freely, despite the numerous wounds he himself had suffered. Hodge could see how battered the paladin was, however, and shook his head.  “I’ve got a healin’ draught or two left me,” he said.  “You should tend to yer friends, or to yerself.” Arun nodded, and downed the contents of the vial without further comment.  The two dwarves just stood there, silent.  Hodge looked around him at the far edge of the plain around the edges of the boulder field, as if confirming what he’d seen earlier.  The body of the dragon was a low mound, and from a distance might have been a hummock of turf and rocks, or something equally innocuous.  Only he knew better.  They all knew better. “Sure it dead, eh?” the dwarf finally ventured.“Mole’s checking it out,” Arun said, “But the way it fell...”  Hodge’s eyes widened slightly at that, but Arun’s faith in his diminutive companion was clear in his voice, and the shield dwarf found yet another preconception disintegrating in his mind. “Yeh...” he said.  “Look...”“There is no need to explain yourself,” the paladin said.  “You could not have known the danger of accompanying us, for we ourselves did not know what to expect.  Facing a dragon’s not exactly a common undertaking.”“Yeh, well, you ‘andled ‘er right enough,” Hodge said.  “Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen...” he once again trailed off, as though searching for words that he couldn’t quite find.“Well, I guess we’d better talk to that madman,” Arun said.  They looked at where Crazy Jared was standing alone near the base of the boulder mound, mumbling something to himself.  “Normally I’d leave that to the elf, but it looks like he’s got his hands full right about now.”He turned, but Hodge forestalled him.  “Wait.  Can... can I ask yer somepin?”“Ask.”“All that stuff yer were sayin’ earlier... when I was talkin’ ‘bout treasure, and yer was goin’ on ‘bout honor and the gods and helpin’ that dwarf hero find ‘is son and all that stuff... yer really believe all that... I guess what I’m sayin’...”  He shrugged.  “I don’t rightly know what I’m sayin’.  Just when I saw you rush that dragon... I ain’t never seen the likes o’ that, nowayhow.” Arun nodded, and for the first time the hard look toward the other dwarf softened.  “I don’t pretend to have all the answers, friend.  I can only say what I believe, and the Code that gives me... gives me meaning to my life.  It didn’t always, and there was a time when I doubted...”  He turned, his gaze lingering on Dannel and Zenna.  “But I found some friends who helped me find my way back to the path of truth... my truth, perhaps, but a good one, I think.” Hodge nodded, and there was nothing mocking in his eyes this time as he regarded the paladin solemnly.  “Well then, I be guessin’ we shouldn’t keep the wacko waitin’ then, eh?”Mole approached the fallen carcass of the dragon, savoring the feelings that swirled in her as she neared the great beast.  A dragon.  A real live—well, not anymore—dragon!  In all her dreams of adventure, she’d never imagined that she’d meet up with one of the fantastic beasts of legend and bard’s tale.  Her uncle, of course, had battled several in his career, and she’d always relished those accounts, stories of drama and hang-onto-your-seat thrill that he’d told in that cutting style of his.  She’d read his book, too, even before she was old enough to read, her little fingers tracing over the sketches of her uncle and his friends, of wondrous places and terrible creatures, crafted from recollections of long years spent on the roads of Faerûn’s Wild West.  She swelled with pride as she noticed one of her bolts jutting from between two scales on the creature’s hindquarters.  She’d gotten a few hits in, she thought, though it was really Dannel’s bow and Arun’s hammer that had brought the mighty beast down.  Well, she’d gotten through the battle without a scratch, and that was something... She checked the dragon—a bit more perfunctorily than she’d have liked, but her friends were waiting—and returned toward the shelter of the boulder field.  She wiped her hands on her breeches; she’d taken a few mementoes from the carcass to tuck into her magical backpack, and dragonblood was sticky.  Her magical boots carried her across the plateau in great strides, but as she passed the flame-blackened area where the dragon had initially attacked, she paused.  She bent over and uncovered a small object almost indistinguishable from the blackened scrub.  Ah.  Zenna’s hat.  It was a little charred, but she hefted it experimentally, and nodded to herself.  It still felt magical, but Mole had to admit that her inexpert evaluation wasn’t necessarily as accurate as Zenna’s detect magic spell. She tucked the hat into her pocket, and rushed back to rejoin her companions.</blockquote>

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