|
RE: Gar
9-7-17 Post-Session
When Gar heard the sudden commotion erupt from the direction of the Foundry she immediately jumped up and peered through the bushes, her axe lifted in anticipation for combat. She saw the building swarm with freed slaves, many beginning to destroy the structure while others fled. Gar sighed in dismay, sheathed her axe, and crossed her arms. She silently watched the rebellion unfold and her friends walk among the scene shouting victoriously. The half-orc was less surprised, more disappointed, and any relieved or joyous emotions she could have felt for this occasion were soured by several grim notions.
The first notion was that she had put her trust in the members of the party that specialized in stealth and—either purposefully or by accident—they had failed. Secondly, carts would be coming to the Foundry in the morning and soon word would spread throughout the kingdom of what had just transpired. Third, there were now about one hundred souls that, although technically freed, were trapped deep in enemy territory. She understood all too well that without an escort to protect them and guide them into free lands their liberty would be very short-lived, not to mention the punishment the hobgoblins may inflict on them if they were caught. None of this would have been a problem if the crown was already in their possession. This premature emancipation birthed fresh obstacles for the primary objective, the crown, one piece out of many that could help prevent the rise of Odjir.
The half-orc suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her, akin to the sensation that followed immediately after her rage in battle. She reflected on the dream that brought her to where they were now and wondered if there had been a mistake. She was tired of herding everyone along, keeping everyone’s eyes on the task ahead, and accounting for freshly-laid obstacles. She was tired of the constant struggle with her own team. Gar wondered now if they even took this mission seriously.
Gar remembered a time when she was just like them, when she believed that victory did not have a price and doing what was right all the time was always the right answer. That was before she left her family’s farm; before she set out on the open seas. The unforgiving ocean was her teacher as she came face to face with many grim realities, one of them being the fact that choices will not—and cannot—ever be perfect. But this was what also gave her strength. This was why Waxheart William took an interest in her and gave her responsibilities, including Arwen.
The barbarian sighed heavily and gripped her greataxe absentmindedly. She didn’t know how to proceed from here. The choices her friends had made had pushed them into a corner and now it was on her shoulders to find a way out.
|
Gar