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Soanso's Fireside Chat: Rise of the Runelords (AE)
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<blockquote data-quote="soanso" data-source="post: 6175631" data-attributes="member: 6684655"><p>We rode straight to the Cathedral, where Father Zantus greeted us and restored our health. We told him of our tribulations, and he was kind enough to listen. We left his good grace for our beds at the Rusty Dragon. The newness of the adventuring life is wearing off, and we sat together and created a crude memory-map and discussed the goblin warren at Thistletop. </p><p> </p><p>“Ya should’ve doubled back to me,” Mundin said, his eyes meeting mine.</p><p> </p><p>“We couldn’t, between the goblin dogs and the great cat,” I paused, looking into my wine before lifting my eyes to meet his steely gaze. “We’d have perished, all of us.”</p><p> </p><p>“The cat shoulda been your target, what happened?” he asked. And he was right to. Uncle Max was our leader when swords were drawn; he often marshaled us to strike the greatest foe in unison, to show our own ferocity and bravery to whatever bandits or monstrous creature assaulted our caravan. A strategy that worked well until the giants struck near the Storval Plateau. </p><p> </p><p>“We couldn’t hit it. Between the cramped space, the druid’s spell, its own natural grace, and the angles in that warren, we were trapped,” I said.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve fought many battles,” Mundin said, draining a healthy portion of his ale. “Take out the biggest hitter first, and you survive the longest.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mundin,” C interjected, “though your strategy is viable for a platoon of warriors, we were a trio simply outmatched at the end of events. Everything was in hand until the druid cast its spell. Perhaps we should have retreated.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aye,” said Shaiira. “Though I cut the cat good, it was stronger than its master.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve met many druids,” I said, “And their pet is their strength. But the pet is nothing without its master. The entangling magic is of great concern-”</p><p> </p><p>“The master is of no consequence,” Mundin interrupted, “The spell would still stand, druids can pass through such difficult terrain should-” </p><p> </p><p>“But <em>entangle </em>affects everyone, including the caster,” Vohoi added. “Movement would likely be as difficult for them as for us. Perhaps retreat was an option. Maybe it would have dismissed the spell if we came together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or you could have moved to us,” I said, feeling stung by my poor tactical choices. Singing about fighting is easy; doing it is proving harder than I thought. An awkward silence hit the table. We had survived, but at great cost. Perhaps I am cursed. It was my idea to take C and Shaiira to quell the goblin dogs; the druid and the great cat were a deadly surprise. I sometimes forget I am not all the Farateldis, just one who knows them all. </p><p> </p><p>Bethanna, as always, waited patiently in the corner. I waved her over.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Madam?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, call me Siv, I’ve never run a whorehouse in my life,” I said, winking. I have taken to teasing her for her impeccable manners. I respect how hard she works, so I try and have some fun. She blushed. “If we could have a round of brandy, an ale for the dwarf, and are there any sweets in the pantry tonight?”</p><p> </p><p>“We have cocoa-infused angel food cakes filled with a tart cherry and toasted hazelnut butter-cream,” she replied.</p><p> </p><p>“We need some angels, if the staff is still about,” I said. “Chocolate makes everything better.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes Mada- Yes, Siv,” she said, smiling broadly. </p><p> </p><p>Bethanna returned with brandy, ale, and cake. “You are an angel yourself, dear,” I said. She bowed and retreated to her corner, always vigilant. We were the last party in the main hall. I stood and raised my glass.</p><p> </p><p>“To Mundin and Vohoi,” I said. “Because if not, we’d be dead. Your bravery accounts for our lives, and for that I vow to keep us all safe, and to sing songs of your valor should the fireside ever present a moment of rest. We have left Sandpoint and now walk with the wolves. What awaits us is unknown; what we have is skill, steel, and soul. Salut!”</p><p> </p><p>Mundin then stood, raising his mug. “Aye, here’s to us. Nothing can keep us apart, and ev’ry battle brings us closer together,” he paused, odd since the dwarf never spoke more than one thought at a time. “I’ve kin, too, but I raise a mug to you all, you are my brothers and sisters. Together we fight the dark tomorrow.” He drank a long haul from his tankard. I looked askance at Shaiira; she also recognized the gravitas of Mundin’s words.</p><p> </p><p>Caramour was next. “A great trial lies before us. This druid is of great concern. Perhaps we should try to recruit another to our cause.”</p><p> </p><p>“It makes sense,” Vohoi said. “We were taken for dead last night; another sword might benefit our cause.”</p><p> </p><p>I smiled; men who think before they act are a rarity in my circle.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="soanso, post: 6175631, member: 6684655"] We rode straight to the Cathedral, where Father Zantus greeted us and restored our health. We told him of our tribulations, and he was kind enough to listen. We left his good grace for our beds at the Rusty Dragon. The newness of the adventuring life is wearing off, and we sat together and created a crude memory-map and discussed the goblin warren at Thistletop. “Ya should’ve doubled back to me,” Mundin said, his eyes meeting mine. “We couldn’t, between the goblin dogs and the great cat,” I paused, looking into my wine before lifting my eyes to meet his steely gaze. “We’d have perished, all of us.” “The cat shoulda been your target, what happened?” he asked. And he was right to. Uncle Max was our leader when swords were drawn; he often marshaled us to strike the greatest foe in unison, to show our own ferocity and bravery to whatever bandits or monstrous creature assaulted our caravan. A strategy that worked well until the giants struck near the Storval Plateau. “We couldn’t hit it. Between the cramped space, the druid’s spell, its own natural grace, and the angles in that warren, we were trapped,” I said. “I’ve fought many battles,” Mundin said, draining a healthy portion of his ale. “Take out the biggest hitter first, and you survive the longest.” “Mundin,” C interjected, “though your strategy is viable for a platoon of warriors, we were a trio simply outmatched at the end of events. Everything was in hand until the druid cast its spell. Perhaps we should have retreated.” “Aye,” said Shaiira. “Though I cut the cat good, it was stronger than its master.” “I’ve met many druids,” I said, “And their pet is their strength. But the pet is nothing without its master. The entangling magic is of great concern-” “The master is of no consequence,” Mundin interrupted, “The spell would still stand, druids can pass through such difficult terrain should-” “But [I]entangle [/I]affects everyone, including the caster,” Vohoi added. “Movement would likely be as difficult for them as for us. Perhaps retreat was an option. Maybe it would have dismissed the spell if we came together.” “Or you could have moved to us,” I said, feeling stung by my poor tactical choices. Singing about fighting is easy; doing it is proving harder than I thought. An awkward silence hit the table. We had survived, but at great cost. Perhaps I am cursed. It was my idea to take C and Shaiira to quell the goblin dogs; the druid and the great cat were a deadly surprise. I sometimes forget I am not all the Farateldis, just one who knows them all. Bethanna, as always, waited patiently in the corner. I waved her over. “Yes, Madam?” “Ugh, call me Siv, I’ve never run a whorehouse in my life,” I said, winking. I have taken to teasing her for her impeccable manners. I respect how hard she works, so I try and have some fun. She blushed. “If we could have a round of brandy, an ale for the dwarf, and are there any sweets in the pantry tonight?” “We have cocoa-infused angel food cakes filled with a tart cherry and toasted hazelnut butter-cream,” she replied. “We need some angels, if the staff is still about,” I said. “Chocolate makes everything better.” “Yes Mada- Yes, Siv,” she said, smiling broadly. Bethanna returned with brandy, ale, and cake. “You are an angel yourself, dear,” I said. She bowed and retreated to her corner, always vigilant. We were the last party in the main hall. I stood and raised my glass. “To Mundin and Vohoi,” I said. “Because if not, we’d be dead. Your bravery accounts for our lives, and for that I vow to keep us all safe, and to sing songs of your valor should the fireside ever present a moment of rest. We have left Sandpoint and now walk with the wolves. What awaits us is unknown; what we have is skill, steel, and soul. Salut!” Mundin then stood, raising his mug. “Aye, here’s to us. Nothing can keep us apart, and ev’ry battle brings us closer together,” he paused, odd since the dwarf never spoke more than one thought at a time. “I’ve kin, too, but I raise a mug to you all, you are my brothers and sisters. Together we fight the dark tomorrow.” He drank a long haul from his tankard. I looked askance at Shaiira; she also recognized the gravitas of Mundin’s words. Caramour was next. “A great trial lies before us. This druid is of great concern. Perhaps we should try to recruit another to our cause.” “It makes sense,” Vohoi said. “We were taken for dead last night; another sword might benefit our cause.” I smiled; men who think before they act are a rarity in my circle. [/QUOTE]
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