David's Darkmoon Deeds

The end

it takes death to bring birth

Oh Orso,
So much death… Why do people do this to each other? The faye where tormented by an evil spirit of the cold rider, but the people have been cutting things for years. They should know that nature might take its revenge. I know it was not the way Gozreh would of punished them for what they did but why don’t they pay tribute to what they take. I have seen so much over my lifetime, my mother always told me to repay what I take. From when we were deep in the mines of the mountain we always collapsed the tunnels we never used. We thank the mountains for giving us gems. I know not all dwarves felt the way my parents did to mountain. This is why we eventually left the mountain for our little cottage by the river under the shadow of the great peaks. Though, trouble did follow us, all I know is we found each other and must protect those that have no voice.
Orso, you where hurt that battle and I can’t lose you too. We must find some armour that will protect you, or we need to find a way to protect you in battle. We will practice your attacks and stealth in the forest while the others attend to their personal business. We must train, I can’t lose you. I must not lose you. You are the only one that has my back. We are family and even the faye knew this.

(this was all said behind the tent where we freed the tree people. We look around the each of the forest and just behind the tree line we go there and practice his acts, stealth techniques, and retreating. While doing this I keep the nymph’s inspiration in my hand. Describing why we are doing this…)

Hours passed and night has fallen and all my group has left the carnival to head back to town. I set up a camp in the tree line. Not heading to the church, I have the need to be out of the roof of a church.

Comments

While you talk, Orso sniffs the ground casually, pausing every now and then to look at you. Every now and then he snorts a disgruntled look upon his face – you assume it was where pools of blood may have congealed from the night’s massacre.

As you make your tent in the tree line a soft snow begins to fall blanketing what happened and Orzo nuzzles you..

The end
 

I whisper to Orso, We need to watch out for each other and find some protection for you. Tomorrow we search for equipment.

The end
dpn630 Misyc

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