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Stick Around

Page history last edited by PBworks 15 years, 8 months ago

As Cabal stood watching over the plumes of smoke rising above the village ahead, he wondered why he was here. Thoughts tumbled through his head, from that he'd already been paid and he could get the Nine Hells out of here with all that cash and without risking his life further to that the Gods-Damned dragonborn were irritatingly, stuffily noble and the constant clinking of their armor annoyed the hell out of him. A sudden thought sprang to mind, and he stored a wonderfully mischievous idea away for later amusement. Pots and kettles, indeed. At least they kept all the bastard goblins busy while Cabal tossed them around like so many leaves.

 

The eladrin wasn't so bad. A sly backstabber who had little more use for brute strength than Cabal himself, Orrin was vicious with his dagger. After battles, Cabal often wondered how this nimble fighter didn't end every battle soaked in blood. He certainly left enough of it on the ground below his eviscerated enemies, though his dodging form always evaded the arterial gushes flooding out his victim's necks in wide arcs. Beyond that, his feywild abilities fascinated Cabal; how we wished he could step into the fey to skip through reality. Cabal resolved not to call the eladrin, "elf" so much.

 

He liked the dwarf, too. A gruff and quiet fellow, there was much to learn from him. Cabal had read extensively on nature, leaves and plant life, but had zero practical experience. Though he volunteered little, the dwarf answered Cabal's questions willingly enough and Cabal was able to learn much by simple observation. He was as deadly with his axes as the eladrin was with a dagger. Neither dwarf nor eladrin was nearly as effective without the hulking forms of the dragonkin taking most of the enemies' attention not so much through skill or power but just by taking up so much bloody space.

 

He'd also spent some time refocusing his abilities...the magic missiles were proving useless...he could just throw a dagger instead of using magic ones. So he rummaged around Glenmaple and was able to find an old scroll with a spell that would let him call down a blazing fire on his enemies. Over the course of a few days, Cabal scrubbed the old staple of wizards everywhere from his mind and replaced it with a more useful fire spell.

 

So why was Cabal here? Why not, really. He'd already found both a magical implement through which he could focus his energies as well as more money than he'd ever seen, and it wasn't like he had a family to return to. No, even this brief adventure had pushed his skills and expanded his mind (and pockets!) more than ever before. He might as well continue, even though the clanking of that armor promised to continually grate at his nerves. Oh, well. As he sat atop his horse, he patiently awaited the moment when he would have the opportunity to unleash his latest brilliant prank upon the group...oh, it promised to be hilarious. As he let the thought drift away, Cabal briefly wondered if he'd laugh so hard he'd fall off his new horse....

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