>>5289138>>5289195>>5289294>>5289335>>5289380>>5289458>>5289500>>5289532This rumination about male and female roles and ideals gets you thinking about your own self-improvement, and about the amount of time you’ve been spending with the two females on your expedition versus the worthy males who you recruited. You decide that you would be best served with some archery practice with the warriors of your retinue.
“That is a very wise and worthy notion, Superior One,” Paeris agrees as you notch your arrow and take aim at the target before you.
“But?” you ask, sensing it coming.
“But why did you bring the Drow?”
You loose your arrow, and narrowly miss the dead-centre of the target you have set up—a chitin-carapace shield, leant by one of the dark elves in question.
The Pit-Guard’s Apprentice laughs, and for a moment you think it is at you. However, you catch the Steeltalon shoving the half-elven one out of the corner of your eye.
“What, do they make you uncomfortable?” the Apprentice asks, as he fires his arrow. “They are your people, are they not?”
He misses the target entirely, hissing in annoyance, and starts to notch another arrow to try again immediately; his senior, the pit-Guard, hauls him back to give others their turn.
“The Reptilian Race are my people,” Paeris says, stepping up next. He fires an arrow, and strikes the target at roughly the same distance from the bullseye as you.
The dark elves jeer, drawing all attention to the three male scouts assembled on a nearby rocky outcropping, leaning against it or perched upon it, each with a bow at the ready.
Oluwadamilare slaps Paeris encouragingly on the back, stepping up to take his turn next. As he aims, he closes one eye and sticks out his tongue. He says nothing… But when he lets his arrow fly, it pierces the target through its centre, and sends the target careering off of the wide path along the chasm, and into the unknown below. The dark elves cry out, at first you think in outrage and then you realize in amusement and excitement at his skill.
“You know what he means to say,” Olu (so he is nicknamed by Paeris) says to the other Degenerate. “But Apprentice Pit-Guard, it is not so. The surface nations are so widely-dispersed, with so much room to grow… A human from the South is not like a human from the North.”
The Pit-Guard scoffs, taking next turn: They are more similar than a Dragonblooded One and a Steeltalon, or a Steeltalon and a Silkscale…”
