Week 2 – A kobold with a degree

Not quite sure how I shall blog this, yet. Azroth is supposed to be a bit of an aloof misery-guts, but I can’t help wanting to dive in and be involved. Also, I want everything to be nice and for everyone to be friends. But Azroth being both a drow and a druid, wouldn’t give a flying f for kobolds – they are beneath notice. So – I’m not role-playing the character terribly well. Maybe writing this out might help congeal the personality a bit.

The session was a bit chaotic, and there’s been some list traffic about that. Also some incorrect rules calls – I misplayed by character at least once. It’ll take a bit of time for us to hit our stride, I think.

And so it comes to this: I venture into battle at the side of surfacer scum, and what is more: as a mere auxiliary, as an unwanted extra. They do not even try to hide their distrust and fear, although their fear is warranted. I am still drow. I will never be one of them – but there is nothing more contemptible than to whine at how hard your lot in life is, and so I will not whine about mine. I chose my path. How many of the uncountable thousands of other thralls of Lolth can truly say the same? Whatever else, I am free. A small price, then, to tag along behind these surfacers – small cog in that armies of the great and beneficent Platinum One. If not for this war I would be back in the forest, or deep in the earth. I can only pray that…

Pray? To whom? Lolth? Bhamut? No – I left one god, I do not need another. I’ll fight in his army, but I will never prostrate myself before him in worship. This world is enough for me. Hah! Enough!

Our first mission, then, to kill some worthless kobolds. A fitting mission for our company. Leaving aside the earlier encounters, we came to a room filled with the cowering vermin. One of them had some nobility, and was better spoken than the usual crude yapping. According to him, the recent attacks on humans were the result of their clan been taken thrall of a dragon, and that under his chieftanship the clan had never done such things.

A surprisingly easy story to believe. I can well imagine that this reasonably intelligent specimen would never have thrown his pitiful kin against the might of the human armies, but that’s precisely the sort of thing a dragon would do. Arrogant well past the point of folly.

Our leader (more or less, the surfacers are stupidly lax about such things) exchanged worthless promises with this kobold, and in return was informed that the corridor leading to the inner chamber was trapped. Our shaman dealt with the traps by having his spirit companion wander down the hall and trigger them. Hah! “Companion” indeed. I am reminded of that surfacer word “chum”, whose meaning is “to toss your friend overboard in order to attract sharks”. I wonder how he induces this “companion” to stay with him and take his orders? The usual price for such companionship is one’s immortal soul.

In any case. Further down the corridor was a device that looked like a trap. We made a clumsy mess of the simple process of getting past it. And finally came to a large chamber containing a dragon and some of its kin.

The thrall of Bhamut challenged it. It – sensibly enough – laughed at the paladin an ordered its kin to attack. We stupidly permitted ourselves to be surrounded. I made use of my form and distracted them while others attacked. We discovered that these dragon kin explode with a blast when slain, so I removed myself to a safe distance and called on the winds to slay the weaker ones while the fighters dealt with the stronger. Once or twice the fighters struck one of the weaker ones – a foolish waste of effort.

Dudes, let the spellcasters with 1d6 AoE burst attacks take care of the minions.

Eventually, only the wyrmling remained. We surrounded it and hacked it to pieces.

On the way out, more promises were exchanged. Someone though to ask for something written from this kobold savant, in order to give us something to show the sergeant. No point being punished for not killing them all. By the time they go back on their word and resume killing humans for sport and meat, hopefully our part in this will have been forgotten.

There was a moment when it was suggested that we should kill them anyway. A telling pause. For my part, if this Bhamut truly is such a hypocrite, the I must reconsider the wisdom of my choosing his side in this war. But it seems our paladin is a noble fool, or at least is content to play the part of one for the moment.

A not unsuccessful conclusion to the day’s efforts. I remain stuck here with these surfacers until Bhamut and Tiamat resolve their differences.


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