The following is a farm hand’s second-hand account of a fight in the wild, as told by a man at the Twig and Berries drinking room. Freeman Smythe descibed the man as “tall, speaking with detachment, and refusing the change laid out by the gnome bartender, on account of well, you know”
“Timmourne, I admire your ability and readiness to accept the short-comings of your status as a half-breed; both those imposed upon you by society and the inherent tricky spot your biology’s placed you in: too long-lived for the likes of me, and dying far too young, if you ask those knife-ears. But who would? They’re far too ready to loan you money now in exchange for your estate when you depart for this world. ‘Fast cash, and never mind your sons!!!’ was what my father must have said when he signed the deed.
…The money was gone in less than a year.
Enough of my ramblings. Now that we’re men of property…Smythe’s account records about a quarter-hour of discourse on a large tower, made for concentration. Very unclear ramblings.
…"And that’s how we’ll teach those Tuskers to READ!!!! Every one of them!! But yes, onto an evaluation of the fight:
- You did well. You’re quite obviously an archer of no mean skill. Your mother-race’s inherent dexterity has to help, but you have the calculating mannerisms of a sharp human. We need to find you an augmented weapon.
- That dwarf surprised me. Instead of doddering about, yelling at animals he instead chose to call down lightning from the sky and roll balls of fire through massed ranks of ogres. Regaur acquitted himself well, and is a credit to that short race. However, a dwarf is only as good as their last engagement, if you listen to their code of conduct. I concur.
- That other half-elf, Wilford; he’s got far more heart and soul than your usual Knife-Ear’s dalliance with a human. The babies are typically beautiful but vapid, stupid, and flighty. This one’s proving to be a very solid warrior, and we mesh well together. My anchoring of several enemies allows him to hover at the fringe, striking when the opportunity for a kill exists. He’s also quick to
- I’m pleased with how I conducted myself. I only wish I were somehow able to counter the magic of enemy warlocks. As an enforcer of a religious order, my clerical abilities are certainly present, but focused around preserving life and damning my enemies to hell.
- Those tuskers need no evaluation. The warrior is able to inflict tremendous blows, but would benefit from formal education and a more calculating style of war. In summary I find his body and spirit to be terrifyingly strong, his mind nowhere near. His brother is marginally smarter, but infinitely craftier and more charismatic. With a brutish look that somehow softens when he wants, Drahg is barely out of boyhood and slinging around the byproduct of eldritch forces with ease. He both impresses and terrifies me. Very combative with me, but I suppose you can’t fix young and stupid. Also, of everyone, I feel he’s the one most able to suss out my true feelings on the lesser races. However, please realize that we are traveling with paragons of their respective races; I’ve never met such a group of brave, resourceful individuals. I am pleased to travel with them, and pray that more of their kind exist in this world.
Don’t tell anyone, but I view them as equals."