before answering.
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t?”
“No man. I said, I Shall Follow You.”
“Oh,” I say. “Yeah, you did. Huh.”
Fjoork wipes his face, rubs the back of his neck.
“Well,” he says. “This is awkward.”
“Don’t I feel a bit silly. All this time, I thought.”
“Yeah, I know what you thought. And that’s okay. It got us this far, didn’t it?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Who knows?” Fjoork says. “You might rise to the occasion.”
And if not, maybe Krugnor will do it for me.
When I get back to the campfire, I see Trin and Krugnor sitting together on a fallen tree. Trin has her hands underher thighs, which she only does when she’s feeling a little red in the aura. Now she’s looking at him in a way I have never seen her look at anyone. She’s definitely never looked at me that way, not even in Oondar.
Charisma’s good for a few things. Bluff, Disguise, Handle Animals, Intimidate, Perform. But it’s not so good when things get real. It’s not so good heading into Battle 256 with a group of tired, beaten-down warriors. Right now, I’d trade half of my Charisma points for some Wisdom. I’ve always been a couple of points on the low side in that department. I think about gathering everyone around, to rally their spirits a bit. If only I could say something wise right now, or at least something wise sounding. Even that might not work. But I can’t come up with anything decent, so I keep my mouth shut. Everyone’s a little tired of me anyway, I think.
In the middle of the night, I wake up to Byr and Rostejn whispering in the darkness.
Krugnor knows where the map doesn’t go.
Krugnor could lead us to The End.
We keep moving. We fight everything: deathknells, bugbears, carrion crawlers, lesser devils. We fight a small band of ghouls, and the ghoul queen. We get attacked by a gray ooze, waking up one morning to find the creature all over us, our camp, in our hair, covering our food. We lose almost an entire day cleaning up, not to mention using upseveral minor enchantments plus a Cure Light Wounds. We keep moving, to the right, slashing and stabbing, jumping and charging, dragging ourselves onward.
Then Rostejn quits.
He comes to me and says, “You’ve been good to me, this has been good, but I gotta say, where is this all going? What are we doing? I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. I used to know. Now I don’t.”
“Ros,” I say. “You are killing me. You are absolutely freaking killing me here.”
How can I explain to him that I’ve been asking myself the same questions for the last ten moons? I can’t say any of that. It will make me sound weak.
“Don’t think this means I’m not grateful. Don’t think this means, in any way whatsoever, that I don’t appreciate everything.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Yeah. Yeah, man. Yeah to all of it, all of our good times. You used to be such a great leader. We took down a gold dragon. A gold freaking dragon, man! We were the toast of the Forgotten Village. Free mead and game bird until we all got fat and out of shape and our Dexterity scores started going down and we had to quit that place and move on. You gave me my first blade. You taught me how to bludgeon. I won’t forget any of that. It’s just.”
“I know.”
“No, no, for real. There’s something else,” Rostejn says.He cracks a smile, something I haven’t seen for a long time. “I’ve got a girl now, boss. Met her right before we started this campaign. We’ve got a kid on the way. Gonna ask her to marry me.”
“Wow, Rostejn,” I say. “Wow. That’s just, that’s great.”
“Yeah. I know. I know. Hopefully the kid’ll take after his mother and be a peaceful law-abiding villager. Be more than I am. More than a sword for hire.”
I tell him he’s going to be a great father.
“I just don’t know. I don’t know what we stand for anymore. Byr’s gone all churchy on us, Fjoork hasn’t bathed in a moon and a
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t?”
“No man. I said, I Shall Follow You.”
“Oh,” I say. “Yeah, you did. Huh.”
Fjoork wipes his face, rubs the back of his neck.
“Well,” he says. “This is awkward.”
“Don’t I feel a bit silly. All this time, I thought.”
“Yeah, I know what you thought. And that’s okay. It got us this far, didn’t it?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Who knows?” Fjoork says. “You might rise to the occasion.”
And if not, maybe Krugnor will do it for me.
When I get back to the campfire, I see Trin and Krugnor sitting together on a fallen tree. Trin has her hands underher thighs, which she only does when she’s feeling a little red in the aura. Now she’s looking at him in a way I have never seen her look at anyone. She’s definitely never looked at me that way, not even in Oondar.
Charisma’s good for a few things. Bluff, Disguise, Handle Animals, Intimidate, Perform. But it’s not so good when things get real. It’s not so good heading into Battle 256 with a group of tired, beaten-down warriors. Right now, I’d trade half of my Charisma points for some Wisdom. I’ve always been a couple of points on the low side in that department. I think about gathering everyone around, to rally their spirits a bit. If only I could say something wise right now, or at least something wise sounding. Even that might not work. But I can’t come up with anything decent, so I keep my mouth shut. Everyone’s a little tired of me anyway, I think.
In the middle of the night, I wake up to Byr and Rostejn whispering in the darkness.
Krugnor knows where the map doesn’t go.
Krugnor could lead us to The End.
We keep moving. We fight everything: deathknells, bugbears, carrion crawlers, lesser devils. We fight a small band of ghouls, and the ghoul queen. We get attacked by a gray ooze, waking up one morning to find the creature all over us, our camp, in our hair, covering our food. We lose almost an entire day cleaning up, not to mention using upseveral minor enchantments plus a Cure Light Wounds. We keep moving, to the right, slashing and stabbing, jumping and charging, dragging ourselves onward.
Then Rostejn quits.
He comes to me and says, “You’ve been good to me, this has been good, but I gotta say, where is this all going? What are we doing? I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. I used to know. Now I don’t.”
“Ros,” I say. “You are killing me. You are absolutely freaking killing me here.”
How can I explain to him that I’ve been asking myself the same questions for the last ten moons? I can’t say any of that. It will make me sound weak.
“Don’t think this means I’m not grateful. Don’t think this means, in any way whatsoever, that I don’t appreciate everything.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“Yeah. Yeah, man. Yeah to all of it, all of our good times. You used to be such a great leader. We took down a gold dragon. A gold freaking dragon, man! We were the toast of the Forgotten Village. Free mead and game bird until we all got fat and out of shape and our Dexterity scores started going down and we had to quit that place and move on. You gave me my first blade. You taught me how to bludgeon. I won’t forget any of that. It’s just.”
“I know.”
“No, no, for real. There’s something else,” Rostejn says.He cracks a smile, something I haven’t seen for a long time. “I’ve got a girl now, boss. Met her right before we started this campaign. We’ve got a kid on the way. Gonna ask her to marry me.”
“Wow, Rostejn,” I say. “Wow. That’s just, that’s great.”
“Yeah. I know. I know. Hopefully the kid’ll take after his mother and be a peaceful law-abiding villager. Be more than I am. More than a sword for hire.”
I tell him he’s going to be a great father.
“I just don’t know. I don’t know what we stand for anymore. Byr’s gone all churchy on us, Fjoork hasn’t bathed in a moon and a
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