Tales of the Adventure
So after the death of the first foul beast, my adventurers set out to track the creature to its lair. However, the priest, the one who dare touch the flesh of the dead, insisted that I guard the useless cripple while he worked on repairing the wagon for some insipid reason.
As I was claiming my trophy, the cowardly paladin immediately ran and mounted his horse. He must’ve seen a rabbit. I swear, these green ‘adventurers’ wouldn’t know danger if it sat down for tea with them. I have slain hundreds of orcs, and they think that by defeating a single ogre, that makes them champions. They have much to learn of the world.
The priest, wizard, and two fops returned to the wagon. Wasting no time, the priest again took to the bodies, when he discovered a child. Working some of his strange magic, he brought the child back from the brink of death. Perhaps his power does have purpose. He then cradled the child while reading a letter found in the pocket of the woman holding him. I don’t know what the letter contained, but soon the man was preaching about demons and exorcisms, demanding for the cripple and I to work double-time (although, he said double six times, so would that be sixty four times faster). The others returned to the ogre’s lair. While I and the lad worked, the priest sat in the cart, murmuring. What nerve!! I am a champion, a protector of the people!! And he gets to sit in a cart while I do peasant work!
Our work was cut short, by the appearance of yet another ogre. That priest may be a high strung slavedriver, but he can sure hold his own in battle. That is, when he doesn’t drop his staff. While I and the cripple brought the beast down, the priest took swings with his stick at any opportunity he could, he even gave chase with me when the creature fled, allowing us to claim a second trophy.