>>5338320>>5338324>>5338325>>5338328>>5338529>>5338567>>5338597>>5338820You did not expect to end up being made into an authority figure, though it is hardly surprising. Willow is a senior priestess and appropriately carries herself like an experienced leader. Aside from her, you are the only one present who possesses a measure of serious exposure to battle. A situation may arise wherein you must take charge and turn this ragtag band into an effective fighting force, so you will approach the task as such.
Ordinarily, insubordination of this sort would earn the offender a full hour of discipline from the tentacle rod, but you are in a magnanimous mood. Moreover, Willow alleged that there can be leadership without oppression, an idea you find most novel. From where you stand, this seems like a fine time to experiment with such an approach. You face the blonde and stand tall, speaking at her with an even tone to prove that you are in total control.
"I have fought in wars, even when I was a girl. I Commanded for more than a hundred years. What I know will save your life, rivvil." You conduct a quick inspection of her equipment. She has the requisite silver weapon, an unblemished broadsword resting on her shoulder that no doubt has yet to see any use. At least she got that much right. "You do not have to trust me. But I have a reason to do this, so I will do it right."
"Oh yeah?" She barks. "So what?"
Initially you interpret her dogged insistence as a failure on your part. This changes as you shift your attention away from her and look upon the faces of those around you. The followers of Mielikki seem just that much more assured knowing that you will be fighting alongside them, and even Dulnur's unruly fans seem to grasp the value of legitimate merits. The blonde is put off by the lack of support from her peers, becoming painfully aware that her words come across as naught but empty bluster. Her face turns flush as she tries to deflect some of the attention away from her. "Uhm, whatever. We'll see about that."
At once, the hunting party gathers their supplies and files out of the temple, making to leave the city through its southern gates. Willow is the last to leave, delegating the stewardship of the building to one of the nature-priests in her absence. She walks at a brisk pace to catch up with you. "Handled that real well," offers the priestess, nodding in satisfaction. "Ilanis said ye're a good sort. Gotta admit, I wasn't so sure about'cha at first." You are willing accept that as a compliment, regardless of whether or not she means it, but have nothing to add. Rather, you steer the subject closer to the matter at hand.
