Monday, September 27, 2010
Today was a good day
Today was a good victory. After several weeks of preparing we went through a portal and attacked the abalith. We caught it off guard and was able to kill it before it had a chance to do anything. This was a good thing because the golems in the room took some time to kill. If it was not for our new companion Ragnar those golems would have probably killed us. Praise be to Pelor for sending us a cleric. With his help and Clunk, or something like that, we took all of them down. The only set back was the mage got a way. Hopefully she was just leaving because she was scared after the abalith losing who power over her. We will have to wait and see. In the mean time we need to search this place and look for any clues of were we need to go next.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Journal of Arcadius
Praise and thanks to thee, o' Lord Pelor! Another Aboleth destroyed!
Our plan worked perfectly, though I doubt we will be able to try the same trick again.
Ragnarr had agreed to rejoin us, though alas, Steinbjorn and his wife decided to stay on Sigil to look after Lief. Chris also chose to remain, as he enjoys life there.
The rest of us purchased items to protect us from mind control and to allow us to breath underwater. As I had already spent much wealth upgrading my arms and equipment, I had to dip into my intended resurrection funds, and was yet still short the gold needed for everything. Azan, may Pelor bless him, astonished me with his generosity, and bought my magical circlet to resist mind control. The man's honor and courage continue to amaze me. Though he did not ask for it, I swear before the gods that I will repay him!
Our plan was simple, to create a portal directly to the Aboleth's lair, and then assault it with our full strength, charging through the very portal itself in order to try to strike the thing down before it could escaple
Walter-Tupper whined incessantly about the danger. I'd hoped he would stay in the safety and comfort of Sigil, but alas he has accompanied us. On the other hand, Ragnarr introduced us to a strange, but most brave, calm, and I think wise, being, a kind of mechanical man. Ragnarr often seems annoyed with him, but I'm sure that is the strong drink talking. Once he sobers up and sees the courage and good sense of this most orderly being, I'm sure he will come round.
In any case, we prepared the gate, saw the Aboleth, and charged through as a group, striking it down with the very vengeance of the gods. It was guarded by two fishlike constructs as well as the Seneschal. She however quickly made her escape once her Aboleth master was dead. The constructs fought on with mindless and brutal power. Truly, were I not gifted with the vitality and protection of Lord Pelor, and had not Ragnarr repeatedly called upon the great healing powers of our god, I would have perished in that battle. The others fared better, but truly our foes were powerful. The Aboleth had done well to guard itself, but was caught by surprise by our attack. Once more, I doubt the others will be so caught again.
Ah, lest I forget... we had another vision of elder days, of the time of the first invasion of the Aboleth. It was of none other than Kaiechos, a wizard-king of very, very ancient legend in my land! Even in that distant time, he would have been thousands of years old. He was in the form of a lich, and was being confronted by the powerful mage woman Alayna - she who constructed the staff. She made reference to her finding the girl Lief, and hinted at wanting to make use of Lief's unusual powers. In addition, she apparently planned to lure the Aboleth in some way to use the staff against them.
May the gods grant us more lasting success, and without resorting to such cruelty as did Alayna and the ancient foes of the Aboleth.
*A*
Our plan worked perfectly, though I doubt we will be able to try the same trick again.
Ragnarr had agreed to rejoin us, though alas, Steinbjorn and his wife decided to stay on Sigil to look after Lief. Chris also chose to remain, as he enjoys life there.
The rest of us purchased items to protect us from mind control and to allow us to breath underwater. As I had already spent much wealth upgrading my arms and equipment, I had to dip into my intended resurrection funds, and was yet still short the gold needed for everything. Azan, may Pelor bless him, astonished me with his generosity, and bought my magical circlet to resist mind control. The man's honor and courage continue to amaze me. Though he did not ask for it, I swear before the gods that I will repay him!
Our plan was simple, to create a portal directly to the Aboleth's lair, and then assault it with our full strength, charging through the very portal itself in order to try to strike the thing down before it could escaple
Walter-Tupper whined incessantly about the danger. I'd hoped he would stay in the safety and comfort of Sigil, but alas he has accompanied us. On the other hand, Ragnarr introduced us to a strange, but most brave, calm, and I think wise, being, a kind of mechanical man. Ragnarr often seems annoyed with him, but I'm sure that is the strong drink talking. Once he sobers up and sees the courage and good sense of this most orderly being, I'm sure he will come round.
In any case, we prepared the gate, saw the Aboleth, and charged through as a group, striking it down with the very vengeance of the gods. It was guarded by two fishlike constructs as well as the Seneschal. She however quickly made her escape once her Aboleth master was dead. The constructs fought on with mindless and brutal power. Truly, were I not gifted with the vitality and protection of Lord Pelor, and had not Ragnarr repeatedly called upon the great healing powers of our god, I would have perished in that battle. The others fared better, but truly our foes were powerful. The Aboleth had done well to guard itself, but was caught by surprise by our attack. Once more, I doubt the others will be so caught again.
Ah, lest I forget... we had another vision of elder days, of the time of the first invasion of the Aboleth. It was of none other than Kaiechos, a wizard-king of very, very ancient legend in my land! Even in that distant time, he would have been thousands of years old. He was in the form of a lich, and was being confronted by the powerful mage woman Alayna - she who constructed the staff. She made reference to her finding the girl Lief, and hinted at wanting to make use of Lief's unusual powers. In addition, she apparently planned to lure the Aboleth in some way to use the staff against them.
May the gods grant us more lasting success, and without resorting to such cruelty as did Alayna and the ancient foes of the Aboleth.
*A*
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Ragnarr Stories: 18 Years Ago
(You can pretty much assume that if you've spent enough time drinking with Ragnarr, you've gotten some or all of these stories at least once.)
To be honest, I don't know what took the bastard so long to call for me. By then I'd been in Sigil for... Hel, I don't know. Too damn long. Long enough that I was almost happy to get called up to run errands for a planar bastard, just for something to break up the damn monotony. A change of scenery, if you like, even if the scenery's just going to be an arseload of mist.
I hardly even remember what he sent to fetch me. Some kind of bloody water thing, I think. Like an elemental, but with four legs and it likes to piss on your leg. It showed up with a note in it's mouth. Walked up, dropped it in front of me, and then just sat there, wagging it's blood tail like it was having the time of it's life.
It was a bad joke. The bastard liked to fetch. He'd been sent to fetch me.
Dogwater had a good head for portals, though. Led me up (or down, or whatever bloody direction) and out of sigil and right to his master. Or at least so I gather. I can't say I've ever seen the bastard, but there was a lot of wind and he was talking in my head, so I've got to assume he was around there somewhere.
It sounded simple, as these things do. Go through a portal. On the other side was going to be a water elemental, some representative of the Water plane that Misty had dealings with. Misty had been having a few wee border skirmishes, and he wanted me to negotiate for him. Give some demands, ask for some things in return, all that shite.
I told him I was a rubbish negotiator, of course. He didn't listen. Maybe I should have.
He gave me some crap to breathe water and swim about, so I gathered that I was going to be underwater. Then up the portal goes, through I go, and big surprise, I'm in an ocean.
Where some other talk-in-your-head type bastard asks me who the hell I am, and where is that misty bastard he was negotiating with.
Not the best way to start a negotiation right? Him yelling. Me telling him he could bloody well calm down, or I'd break my mace off in his arse, him saying things about Pelor I wouldn't take from my own mother, all that sort of thing. Somewhere in there, I managed to deliver the misty bastards requests, which may have sounded a wee bit more like demands when I said them, and then things got to be very, very rough sailing, so to speak.
I'm glad to say that I'd learned enough about planar traveling to get away, anyway. Misty'd given me a fork for the plane of mist, and it got me there alright. Which didn't seem to surprise Misty much, as I found Dogwater waiting for me on the other side, waiting for me to follow him.
I told Misty how badly things had gone. I felt like an ass, right? I mean, as far as I know, I had just started a bloody war.
So it came as a wee bit of a surprise when Misty laughed, told me I had done a great job, I could keep the gear, and he sent me on my way. Didn't seem the slightest bit pissed.
Somehow, it was only about then that I figured it out, and it wasn't until a hell of a lot later that I learned the rest of it.
Bastard wanted me to start a war. He knew I would be rubbish at negotiation, and that was what he wanted. But he couldn't be too open about a snub. I mean, the watery bastard was a planar lord and all. If he could send someone powerful, like some kind of representative of a god, he could claim it was all in good faith. Swear the whole war bit wasn't his fault.
It worked, too. The bastard.
To be honest, I don't know what took the bastard so long to call for me. By then I'd been in Sigil for... Hel, I don't know. Too damn long. Long enough that I was almost happy to get called up to run errands for a planar bastard, just for something to break up the damn monotony. A change of scenery, if you like, even if the scenery's just going to be an arseload of mist.
I hardly even remember what he sent to fetch me. Some kind of bloody water thing, I think. Like an elemental, but with four legs and it likes to piss on your leg. It showed up with a note in it's mouth. Walked up, dropped it in front of me, and then just sat there, wagging it's blood tail like it was having the time of it's life.
It was a bad joke. The bastard liked to fetch. He'd been sent to fetch me.
Dogwater had a good head for portals, though. Led me up (or down, or whatever bloody direction) and out of sigil and right to his master. Or at least so I gather. I can't say I've ever seen the bastard, but there was a lot of wind and he was talking in my head, so I've got to assume he was around there somewhere.
It sounded simple, as these things do. Go through a portal. On the other side was going to be a water elemental, some representative of the Water plane that Misty had dealings with. Misty had been having a few wee border skirmishes, and he wanted me to negotiate for him. Give some demands, ask for some things in return, all that shite.
I told him I was a rubbish negotiator, of course. He didn't listen. Maybe I should have.
He gave me some crap to breathe water and swim about, so I gathered that I was going to be underwater. Then up the portal goes, through I go, and big surprise, I'm in an ocean.
Where some other talk-in-your-head type bastard asks me who the hell I am, and where is that misty bastard he was negotiating with.
Not the best way to start a negotiation right? Him yelling. Me telling him he could bloody well calm down, or I'd break my mace off in his arse, him saying things about Pelor I wouldn't take from my own mother, all that sort of thing. Somewhere in there, I managed to deliver the misty bastards requests, which may have sounded a wee bit more like demands when I said them, and then things got to be very, very rough sailing, so to speak.
I'm glad to say that I'd learned enough about planar traveling to get away, anyway. Misty'd given me a fork for the plane of mist, and it got me there alright. Which didn't seem to surprise Misty much, as I found Dogwater waiting for me on the other side, waiting for me to follow him.
I told Misty how badly things had gone. I felt like an ass, right? I mean, as far as I know, I had just started a bloody war.
So it came as a wee bit of a surprise when Misty laughed, told me I had done a great job, I could keep the gear, and he sent me on my way. Didn't seem the slightest bit pissed.
Somehow, it was only about then that I figured it out, and it wasn't until a hell of a lot later that I learned the rest of it.
Bastard wanted me to start a war. He knew I would be rubbish at negotiation, and that was what he wanted. But he couldn't be too open about a snub. I mean, the watery bastard was a planar lord and all. If he could send someone powerful, like some kind of representative of a god, he could claim it was all in good faith. Swear the whole war bit wasn't his fault.
It worked, too. The bastard.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Visions in the Night
((All permanent party members and those divinely dedicated to the quest will receive the following))
Darkness.
The images come slowly, giving the impression of coming gradually into view.
You see a quiet keep in the mountains where nothing lives for miles around. There is no grass. There are no trees. There is no wind. Not a single sound can be heard in an area where even a pinprick could be heard for miles. The tall walls of the keep look like they are designed to keep an army out, with nearly spartan simplicity in their design.
Inside the keep, in a throne room where nothing adorns the walls and a quiet stone throne sits, a man sits on the throne. He sits there, still as death, his face stretched and dried like one who has been mummified and preserved for thousands years. Everything except for his clothes and his eyes would mark him as being among the long departed. Cold sunlight streams in through southern skylights, barely illuminating the room.
His clothes, made of finely dyed linen, are of an impeccable cut and look like something made for a different time and place. They look like they were made yesterday, and cover him in such a way that the only exposed skin is on his face and hands.
His eyes--or rather the place where his eyes used to be--glow a sapphire blue.
"I have come, Kaiechos." A voice, feminine and commanding, breaks the stillness of the throne room. "Did you really believe that you could hide here forever?"
"Foretelling was always your strength, Alayna, not mine. Though I suppose it was inevitable that you would make it here eventually." Kaiechos's speaks slowly, with deliberate emphasis and a thick accent, as if trying to grapple with a foreign tongue. "I see that you have completed the staff."
"No thanks to you, I would have thought that you would have jumped at the chance to build such a weapon." The woman known as Alayna steps further into the room, becoming visible. She is surrounded by an aura of positive energy, her eyes glow green, but otherwise she is as you have seen her in previous visions. In her right hand is her staff in its completed form.
"Nothing personal. I prefer not to build things that in a thousand years people will hunt me down over. How do you plan to present it to the Aboleth?"
"I have a plan to lure it out. I have found this remarkable girl Lief and with a few modifications, she would be perfectly suited to the task. Actually, that's where I think you might be willing to help..." Alayna smiles coldly. "Not like you have any choice in the matter this time..."
The vision fades to blackness.
Darkness.
The images come slowly, giving the impression of coming gradually into view.
You see a quiet keep in the mountains where nothing lives for miles around. There is no grass. There are no trees. There is no wind. Not a single sound can be heard in an area where even a pinprick could be heard for miles. The tall walls of the keep look like they are designed to keep an army out, with nearly spartan simplicity in their design.
Inside the keep, in a throne room where nothing adorns the walls and a quiet stone throne sits, a man sits on the throne. He sits there, still as death, his face stretched and dried like one who has been mummified and preserved for thousands years. Everything except for his clothes and his eyes would mark him as being among the long departed. Cold sunlight streams in through southern skylights, barely illuminating the room.
His clothes, made of finely dyed linen, are of an impeccable cut and look like something made for a different time and place. They look like they were made yesterday, and cover him in such a way that the only exposed skin is on his face and hands.
His eyes--or rather the place where his eyes used to be--glow a sapphire blue.
"I have come, Kaiechos." A voice, feminine and commanding, breaks the stillness of the throne room. "Did you really believe that you could hide here forever?"
"Foretelling was always your strength, Alayna, not mine. Though I suppose it was inevitable that you would make it here eventually." Kaiechos's speaks slowly, with deliberate emphasis and a thick accent, as if trying to grapple with a foreign tongue. "I see that you have completed the staff."
"No thanks to you, I would have thought that you would have jumped at the chance to build such a weapon." The woman known as Alayna steps further into the room, becoming visible. She is surrounded by an aura of positive energy, her eyes glow green, but otherwise she is as you have seen her in previous visions. In her right hand is her staff in its completed form.
"Nothing personal. I prefer not to build things that in a thousand years people will hunt me down over. How do you plan to present it to the Aboleth?"
"I have a plan to lure it out. I have found this remarkable girl Lief and with a few modifications, she would be perfectly suited to the task. Actually, that's where I think you might be willing to help..." Alayna smiles coldly. "Not like you have any choice in the matter this time..."
The vision fades to blackness.
Journal of Arcadius
In Sigil
Despite it all, our time here is proving productive. Steinbjorn, with admirable, if wine-enhanced, tenacity, identified the vast haul of items buried in Hrogar's Bag of Holding. Others sold them around the city, and the value of what we had turned out to be astonishing. My portion alone was over 30,000 gold! Some of the items had been sitting in that bag, unused and unsold, for months, while we suffered for lack of adequate equipment. My confidence in Hrogar's talents as a quartermaster and merchant have been, to say the least, shaken.
This new fortune is going to good use, however. I have paid for upgrades in the enchantments of my armor and shield, traded my ring of protection for a more powerful one, obtained some Gauntlets of Ogre Power, and purchased a magical backpack with compartments much like small Bags of Holding. Even with all that, I've kept enough back to pay for my resurrection, should it be necessary.
By a strange chance of fate, we met Meryk, the cruel-minded Ranger we fought early in our quest, and who as appeared in several of our visions. It seems she is indeed fighting the Aboleth, and we exchanged some useful information. She said that the Aboleth leader is the offspring the one which brought about the original invasion of evil thousands of years ago, and the other six are its own offspring. The remaining Aboleth are known as The Egoist, The Kineticist, The Seer, The Shaper, The Telepath, and The Leader. The one we slew was The Nomad.
May Meryk find some path of redemption from her evil ways, for this is most helpful knowledge, and it is good to know she is on the same side on this fight at least.
In addition, I was able to locate Ragnarr and, through him, Chris. Ragnarr is a sad shadow of his former self, depressed and drunk. As time moves differently here, it has been for him twenty years. Twenty years, cut off from Lord Pelor! Alas for Ragnarr. Steinbjorn and I have spoken to him, and it may be that he is willing to accompany us. Chris on the other hand seems quite happy in this place of high magic.
Finally, Dantroe and Walter-Tupper managed, somehow, to get robbed while walking the streets of Sigil. I can certainly understand how, what with Walter-Tupper walking around wearing a giant mechanical hat, that they might attract the wrong sort of attention... but how did a supposed expert in stealthy doings and subterfuge manage to fall so easily prey to it himself? Ah well, with him, nothing ought to surprise me anymore.
May Ragnarr soon feel once more the light of Pelor upon his mind! For that matter, may I as well. Pelor, I pray to you and offer you thanks, whether or not you can answer them in this place.
*A*
Despite it all, our time here is proving productive. Steinbjorn, with admirable, if wine-enhanced, tenacity, identified the vast haul of items buried in Hrogar's Bag of Holding. Others sold them around the city, and the value of what we had turned out to be astonishing. My portion alone was over 30,000 gold! Some of the items had been sitting in that bag, unused and unsold, for months, while we suffered for lack of adequate equipment. My confidence in Hrogar's talents as a quartermaster and merchant have been, to say the least, shaken.
This new fortune is going to good use, however. I have paid for upgrades in the enchantments of my armor and shield, traded my ring of protection for a more powerful one, obtained some Gauntlets of Ogre Power, and purchased a magical backpack with compartments much like small Bags of Holding. Even with all that, I've kept enough back to pay for my resurrection, should it be necessary.
By a strange chance of fate, we met Meryk, the cruel-minded Ranger we fought early in our quest, and who as appeared in several of our visions. It seems she is indeed fighting the Aboleth, and we exchanged some useful information. She said that the Aboleth leader is the offspring the one which brought about the original invasion of evil thousands of years ago, and the other six are its own offspring. The remaining Aboleth are known as The Egoist, The Kineticist, The Seer, The Shaper, The Telepath, and The Leader. The one we slew was The Nomad.
May Meryk find some path of redemption from her evil ways, for this is most helpful knowledge, and it is good to know she is on the same side on this fight at least.
In addition, I was able to locate Ragnarr and, through him, Chris. Ragnarr is a sad shadow of his former self, depressed and drunk. As time moves differently here, it has been for him twenty years. Twenty years, cut off from Lord Pelor! Alas for Ragnarr. Steinbjorn and I have spoken to him, and it may be that he is willing to accompany us. Chris on the other hand seems quite happy in this place of high magic.
Finally, Dantroe and Walter-Tupper managed, somehow, to get robbed while walking the streets of Sigil. I can certainly understand how, what with Walter-Tupper walking around wearing a giant mechanical hat, that they might attract the wrong sort of attention... but how did a supposed expert in stealthy doings and subterfuge manage to fall so easily prey to it himself? Ah well, with him, nothing ought to surprise me anymore.
May Ragnarr soon feel once more the light of Pelor upon his mind! For that matter, may I as well. Pelor, I pray to you and offer you thanks, whether or not you can answer them in this place.
*A*
Monday, September 20, 2010
Time to meditate
I am not sure how many days we are going to be stuck here in the plane. In the mean time I am working on improving my sword. When we go back to fight the abalith again it is going to be very prepared. This time i do not want to be so dependent on magic. I would rather relay on my skill and my god to help me over come this enemy. In the mean time it appears people are not getting into to much trouble. Tupper and the monk got robbed, which is kind of funny.
Apparently we have come across some alias in this plane a cleric and another mage. The cleric seems like he is very feed up of this plane. I can not blame him. Anyway. Time to eat then back to working on my sword.
Apparently we have come across some alias in this plane a cleric and another mage. The cleric seems like he is very feed up of this plane. I can not blame him. Anyway. Time to eat then back to working on my sword.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Ragnarr and Steinbjorn in a Bar in Sigil
We are in the inn where the majority of the PCs are staying. Ragnarr sits at the bar, drinking shit alcohol with the occasional sip from the Chaos Liqueur. If he were not a dwarf, he might be considered extremely drunk. Instead, he is in a state considered awake and somewhat tipsy.
Down the stares comes Steinbjorn. He has been drinking one glass of wine an hour for thirteen hours. He, too, is a bit tipsy as he approaches the bar.
Steinbjorn: Something to drink, please. Something without alcohol.
Ragnarr (Scoffing): You'll be their elf, then.
Steinbjorn: Whose?
Ragnarr: The lads. Arcadius and his lot.
Steinbjorn: Yes, I suppose so.
Ragnarr: Wizard, too, I'll bet. Bloody elves.
Steinbjorn: Yes, actually. I'm sorry, should I know you?
Ragnarr: Don't know why you would.
Steinbjorn: You wouldn't be the cranky dwarf bastard they used to travel with, would you?
Ragnarr: Cranky? Bastards.
Steinbjorn: So that's you, then.
Ragnarr: Aye. I suppose so.
Steinbjorn: You've aged. Been in the planes, long?
Ragnarr: Long enough, from the looks of it.
Steinbjorn: Huh.
(Awkward silence ensues as the two of them drink their beverages.)
Steinbjorn: So what is it you do here, anyway?
Ragnarr: I'm a babysitter.
Steinbjorn: A babysitter? That must be one hell of a baby.
Ragnarr: Aye. The kind of baby that could wipe out the world, if it wanted to.
(What follows is an in depth discussion of Leaf's destructive capacities, complete lack of moral compass, and the scheme to teach her a sense of ethics.)
Steinbjorn: My. Pelor has given you quite the importance task.
Ragnarr: Pfft. Pelor. (Takes a long drink.) Fuck Pelor.
Steinbjorn: Begging your pardon, but isn't that his symbol on your shield?
Ragnarr: I suppose so. And maybe if I was somewhere that weren't so in the arse end of the planes, maybe it would mean a damn.
Steinbjorn: You've lost touch with him?
Ragnarr: Someone's lost touch. Bastard doesn't answer prayers out here.
Steinbjorn: You sound bitter.
Ragnarr: Hmph. Wonder why.
Steinbjorn: I'm not lying, though. It is a noble quest you have. To try and teach a person with enormous powers the proper use of her powers, to teach her restraint in the face of near omnipotence, that's an incredible thing.
Ragnarr: It sounds good, sure. But twenty bloody years without the sun? I'd be happy with a little less nobility and a wee bit more sun, you know?
Steinbjorn: Your god doesn't choose those that walk in the shadows.
Ragnarr: No. And he doesn't give me a damn clue how to go about it, neither.
Steinbjorn: Tell me, have you ever heard the saying "The gods work in mysterious ways"?
Ragnarr: I know they do, lad. I've spent my life trying to figure the bastards out.
Steinbjorn: What do you know of Angr-Boda.
Ragnarr: Damned impossible to find. Vaguely respectable in certain parts of the world. Other than that, not much.
Steinbjorn: I've spent my life serving her. She teaches that we ought to find balance, that the powerful need to use their power only when needed. And, more importantly, she teaches her followers how to walk in the shadows, how to exist far from her, to do her bidding in dark places, far from her.
Ragnarr: You've come to the right damn place for that.
Steinbjorn: And, more importantly, she teaches us how to control the powers of others. That's what I do.
Ragnarr: (long pause) Lad, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?
Steinbjorn: You're tired. You're worn down. I've only just met you and I can see that. I'm not saying that I can do a better job that you, but I'm saying that I'd be willing to try.
Ragnarr: And your wife?
Steinbjorn: That's up to her, isn't it? I don't know where her duties will take me. But if I can teach this girl, help her to understand what's at stake.
Ragnarr: But it's not that easy, is it? I mean, I can't exactly trust some damn stranger with the life of the girl, now can I?
Steinbjorn: Of course. I understand.
Ragnarr: I didn't mean it like that. It's not that I think you're a bad man, just that I have to know, aye?
Steinbjorn: Of course. You'll need time to think about it.
Ragnarr: Aye. Time. Seems like if twenty years here can be a few months back home, we've got plenty, aye?
Steinjorn: More or less.
Ragnarr: I'll think about it.
Steinbjorn: Good.
Ragnarr: Aye. I suppose I should be off to have supper with the girl.
Steinbjorn: May I come? I'd love to meet her.
Ragnarr: Oh, the hell. I suppose it can't hurt.
The pair leave to have dinner. A dinner during which Steinbjorn will exhibit patience, kindness, and fascination when dealing with Leaf, completely devoid of fear. It will, along with speaking to the rest of the party, eventually convince Ragnarr that, if at least someone he trusted were left here as well, it might be alright.
Down the stares comes Steinbjorn. He has been drinking one glass of wine an hour for thirteen hours. He, too, is a bit tipsy as he approaches the bar.
Steinbjorn: Something to drink, please. Something without alcohol.
Ragnarr (Scoffing): You'll be their elf, then.
Steinbjorn: Whose?
Ragnarr: The lads. Arcadius and his lot.
Steinbjorn: Yes, I suppose so.
Ragnarr: Wizard, too, I'll bet. Bloody elves.
Steinbjorn: Yes, actually. I'm sorry, should I know you?
Ragnarr: Don't know why you would.
Steinbjorn: You wouldn't be the cranky dwarf bastard they used to travel with, would you?
Ragnarr: Cranky? Bastards.
Steinbjorn: So that's you, then.
Ragnarr: Aye. I suppose so.
Steinbjorn: You've aged. Been in the planes, long?
Ragnarr: Long enough, from the looks of it.
Steinbjorn: Huh.
(Awkward silence ensues as the two of them drink their beverages.)
Steinbjorn: So what is it you do here, anyway?
Ragnarr: I'm a babysitter.
Steinbjorn: A babysitter? That must be one hell of a baby.
Ragnarr: Aye. The kind of baby that could wipe out the world, if it wanted to.
(What follows is an in depth discussion of Leaf's destructive capacities, complete lack of moral compass, and the scheme to teach her a sense of ethics.)
Steinbjorn: My. Pelor has given you quite the importance task.
Ragnarr: Pfft. Pelor. (Takes a long drink.) Fuck Pelor.
Steinbjorn: Begging your pardon, but isn't that his symbol on your shield?
Ragnarr: I suppose so. And maybe if I was somewhere that weren't so in the arse end of the planes, maybe it would mean a damn.
Steinbjorn: You've lost touch with him?
Ragnarr: Someone's lost touch. Bastard doesn't answer prayers out here.
Steinbjorn: You sound bitter.
Ragnarr: Hmph. Wonder why.
Steinbjorn: I'm not lying, though. It is a noble quest you have. To try and teach a person with enormous powers the proper use of her powers, to teach her restraint in the face of near omnipotence, that's an incredible thing.
Ragnarr: It sounds good, sure. But twenty bloody years without the sun? I'd be happy with a little less nobility and a wee bit more sun, you know?
Steinbjorn: Your god doesn't choose those that walk in the shadows.
Ragnarr: No. And he doesn't give me a damn clue how to go about it, neither.
Steinbjorn: Tell me, have you ever heard the saying "The gods work in mysterious ways"?
Ragnarr: I know they do, lad. I've spent my life trying to figure the bastards out.
Steinbjorn: What do you know of Angr-Boda.
Ragnarr: Damned impossible to find. Vaguely respectable in certain parts of the world. Other than that, not much.
Steinbjorn: I've spent my life serving her. She teaches that we ought to find balance, that the powerful need to use their power only when needed. And, more importantly, she teaches her followers how to walk in the shadows, how to exist far from her, to do her bidding in dark places, far from her.
Ragnarr: You've come to the right damn place for that.
Steinbjorn: And, more importantly, she teaches us how to control the powers of others. That's what I do.
Ragnarr: (long pause) Lad, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?
Steinbjorn: You're tired. You're worn down. I've only just met you and I can see that. I'm not saying that I can do a better job that you, but I'm saying that I'd be willing to try.
Ragnarr: And your wife?
Steinbjorn: That's up to her, isn't it? I don't know where her duties will take me. But if I can teach this girl, help her to understand what's at stake.
Ragnarr: But it's not that easy, is it? I mean, I can't exactly trust some damn stranger with the life of the girl, now can I?
Steinbjorn: Of course. I understand.
Ragnarr: I didn't mean it like that. It's not that I think you're a bad man, just that I have to know, aye?
Steinbjorn: Of course. You'll need time to think about it.
Ragnarr: Aye. Time. Seems like if twenty years here can be a few months back home, we've got plenty, aye?
Steinjorn: More or less.
Ragnarr: I'll think about it.
Steinbjorn: Good.
Ragnarr: Aye. I suppose I should be off to have supper with the girl.
Steinbjorn: May I come? I'd love to meet her.
Ragnarr: Oh, the hell. I suppose it can't hurt.
The pair leave to have dinner. A dinner during which Steinbjorn will exhibit patience, kindness, and fascination when dealing with Leaf, completely devoid of fear. It will, along with speaking to the rest of the party, eventually convince Ragnarr that, if at least someone he trusted were left here as well, it might be alright.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)