>>5383687>>5383726>>5383878>>5384217>>5384353>>5384495"Malar came to see his werebeasts hunt. He did not think that I was stronger than them. He was in awe." Bold as always, you confidently stride over to the table and place the severed werebear head atop it, right between Sten and Tenpenny. The halfling squeals like some bloated livestock animal and sinks into his cushioned seat. The Helmite paladin blinks and inclines his head, taking a drag of his cigarette. "But he did not like how we do not agree," you conclude.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack? That thing's almost as scary as my wife, haw haw!" The Guardian dips his feather pen into an inkwell and records your account of the situation as you collect your trophy and return to the center of the council chamber. "And Willow says you had a talk about how your family ran you outta the house. Something about..." he squints at the page in confusion, or perhaps disbelief. "... getting punished with acid? That right?" You nod along. It is uncertain whether the High Ranger is covering for you or simply misinterpreted the whole situation, though you are grateful nevertheless.
For just a moment, there is a lull in the discussion as Sten works. On cue, the Corellite priestess takes the liberty of filling the silence by slandering you. "A villain such as the Beast of Beasts would see nothing in a righteous soul. The only worth that a deity such as Malar could find in a creature is their cruelty and wickedness! That she chose to collude with him is further proof of the treachery of the Dhaerow, an affront to all that is-"
"Be silent, Aradoness," admonishes Amaranth with a restrained might that you did not expect him to possess. Brandt sighs and flips the page of his chapbook, muttering something along the lines of 'Here we go again' under his breath. The priestess turns to the mage, her features softening ever-so-slightly. "Ama, it is never too late for you to mend your ways. You know in your heart of hearts that the soul of every traitor is irrevocably stained black. Naught but venom runs through the veins of this animal that stands before the council-"
