>>5303313“You look utterly self-satisfied, Oh Pontificating One,” the Novice says quietly, to one side of you.
“Well-deserved, wouldn’t you agree?” you ask.
She huffs noncommittally, and asks, “What now, then? In your own time, when you get your breath back from… What was it, five minutes of actual labour?”
“If you would like to do some ’actual work’ of your own,” you reply, “you can lead the others in retrieving the items of value from the kobolds in that home, and searching the other rooms for anything else worth taking.”
You nod to where your less-than-friendly ‘meeting’ with the Dragonwrought had turned into lethal combat.
“One is dead and burned, the other unconscious… Maybe dead as well, actually. I chopped off his arm. Both of them have magical rings.”
“And speaking of magical rings…” the Novice says, greedily eyeing the hand which even now grips that which you claimed from the aforementioned escaping arm.
You hand it to her, but only after pausing and locking eyes to make yourself very clear:
“Be careful with this. It contains a sinister will—a demon, or undead entity, or SOMETHING.”
The Novice Fleshweaver scoffs and snatches it from your palm.
“I am no hatchling,” she says. “I do not need to be reminded not to take foolish risks, unlike CERTAIN males who go chasing after monsters of legend on a whim.”
With that, the Novice sets off, hissing commands ‘on behalf of the Dragonborn Champion’ and clearly relishing in the transitive authority despite her pretensions to greater maturity. You watch her at work for a moment, then allow yourself to return to relaxation… Until you are interrupted again.
