Meeting the Morons
What have I landed myself in here? I came on a whim, accepting the diversion from my true task out of curiosity and no more. I expected a request for assistance, not this motley band of morons. The centaur seems to have his wits about him and Vaca lives up to his reputation in person, but the rest? A pompous gnome, a skulking amnesiac, brought together by this ditzy maniac. Not sure I’d have hung around if not for this Kyrah character, who by all appearances and according to the midget seems to potentially be the mortal embodiment of the goddess. Her call is worthwhile, even if it means enduring this lot long enough to find out what’s needed so I can get things done and go about my tasks.
My old self would have been gleefully digging into the tales of every one of this mob but now they hardly seem worth the effort. Nonetheless, they’re probably worth keeping around just for now, a boar like this isn’t a good idea to beard in its lair without support, not without dedicating much longer to the hunt to scout and trap accordingly.
After a ludicrously plodding walk to the lair Vaca digs a pit trap for the beast, which seems worthwhile, but despite all their prep every one of them seems to be surprised by the charge of the beast from its lair, resulting in the needless waste of the life of one of our allies. I hurl a javelin to draw the beast on, urging it towards me across the trap. The bulk of the party just throws inaccurate, wasted magic, achieving nothing but sunstreaks across our eyes and the burning of the rock face. It takes another javelin to draw the boar across the trap, at which point I’m able to close, thankfully with the support of Hippofilius who lives up to his supposed ancestry. Even as I land a strike on the boar, it manages to land a tusk on me and strikes me down in turn, but happily the centaur is able to finish the job and assist me in salving my wounds as the beast falls.
The beast spews some verbal bile, which becomes interesting when it seems targeted, but I have no need for threats and nonsense levelled at us by a coward who would rather enchant a forest creature than produce results himself.
As we do our duty by the dead, I finally succumb to the itch of curiosity and heed my Divine Sense – it must indeed be the goddess Kyrah that joins us, unless one of the deities has picked the most unlikely of overly humble forms in these idiots.