Double checking his restocked potion bandeliers and hitching his refilled quiver and longbow up across his wiry shoulders, Magritte risks posing the question he'd been delaying asking...
The ram-horned Satyr looks genuinely baffled, but the achingly beautiful Estrid calms him instantly with a gentle touch of her pale hand on his darkly tanned arm.
“I understand your confusion Magritte and, truth be told, I’m not all that certain if it was a wise decision or not, but we had to convince the Human Fortu that we are on the side of the angels. The barely-elf Rifkin did his best to persuade his companions, but that gesture of 'mercy' could only have helped our case."
Magritte gnaws at his bottom lip for a moment…
"You’re the goddess and I bow to your judgement, but I’ve got a really baaaaad feeling about this."
love the way you've made me dislike Estrid, now even her doing something decent has turned manipulative. Magritte's words seem to foreshadow something bad about our three new henchies, or am i being paranoid?
ReplyDeleteNot paranoid. Realistic reading of the DMs machinations.
ReplyDeleteThey go first against big-bads, no argument. Let them take 64HP in a swipe!
In the parlance of 'Lord of the Rings', Estrid's more Galadriel than Arwen. ;P
ReplyDelete