Liberty Beguiling

Orion's grumbling trails off into incomprehensible mumbles in response to Petros's reasoned arguments. Throwing up his hands in frustration, the ornery trader stalks off in search of something else to complain about. Once her husband has stormed back inside their house, Sophia quietly approaches Petros and presses a weighty bag of coin into his hands. "He'll calm down once he gets his soup. Thank you. How many are coming for dinner?"

While the party helped the kobolds settle in at Orion's, Brim snuck her way out of the post and a little ways into the wilderness, taking her crook with her. Trotting along with the usual kick in her step, she periodically stops along the way to select a flower here, berry there, a particularly intriguing-looking curl of vine or bramble over there; lost in complete thought the whole time. Now, these little scaly fellows were something else; that was for sure. She'd heard of kobolds of course - barbaric little violent things, as the rumors from human-lands had gone. That was obvious rubbish, though. They said the same of her kind, and that was only true of  some  goblins. Of course in her experience, it was true of some  humans,  too, so really no one ought to say such mean things, when it really came down to it. But this left her with a real dilemma: if kobolds  aren't  barbaric and evil and violent, that still didn't tell her what they  are . She racked her brain for answers.  Perhaps they're like dragons then! They're s'posed to be little dragon people, aren't they?  Unfortunately, this raised the biggest question of all... What  is  a dragon, though?   Sure, she'd heard some rumors. Big lizards, really dangerous, pretty strong. But how big is "big"? She'd seen some salamanders back home. A skink here, a gecko there. If kobolds are just small dragons, and dragons are just big lizards... and goblins are just smaller hobgoblins and bugbears and whatnot... then a dragon must just be a lizard person!  Wait no, Sir Azul is called 'dragonborn', and I don't think he's a dragon... is he? After some time, all this thinking was confusing her.  It matters not , she finally decided. She'd just have to get a bunch of stuff they'd surely like and that'd be best! And so it was that three-quarters of an hour later, Brim popped up behind Rikrak with her hands extended,  "Here you go, Mr. Rikrak!"  In her hands, a freshly-caught hare. It's head hung far to the side of its neck, neatly torn to the last of its fleshy threads. In the stump of its neck emerged a plumage of berries and leaves, all bandied together with vines that wrapped themselves around the torso of the small creature. From each paw, a festively-adorned leaf was fastened with more vine, as if the hare had taken to fanning itself. Presenting the grotesque gift with all the cheer she could muster, she proudly held it out to the kobold.  "It's a goblin specialty, please enjoy!"

Rikrak reverently receives the gift from Brimblebread, cradling it in his hands as he inspects it for a moment, before holding the mutilated rabbit above his head and jumping in circles while he cheers. The three other kobolds gather around their leader, dancing in circles around him and cheering in kind. When the jubilation finally comes to a halt, Rikrak passes the rabbit to one of his comrades and envelops Brimblebread in a tiny embrace. " Friend Brimblebread. Kill Grabbles together, yes?"

As Orion backs down from Petros, Aleixo approaches the man.  "Petros, we should talk again. We left things no better yesterday than they started the day before. I saw how you worked, with the bandits, the kobolds, with Orion then. You acted with honour and integrity. Should you be open to it, I will continue to work with you in taming these lands and will endeavour to hold my tongue in questioning you publicly unless it is a matter of danger to life. In return I ask only that you do not hold secrets. I concede that at times you must independently make a simple decision without consulting everyone, but when the moral direction of the group is being determined, rules being laid out and decisions that will lead to us placing our lives on the line in combat, that we are able to work in an informed way. In this you will keep by spear at your side and not facing you." He offers his arm once more.

Brim eagerly embraces the kobold in kind, nodding enthusiastically, " Machigai nai ne!  We'll face this Grabbles fellow together!"

Petros hands the coin back to Sophia.  "You owe me nothing, my lady.  It was my pleasure to acquire these for the group.  Your generous hospitality is more than recompense." As Aleixo comes over, Petros stiffens. After listening to Aleixo say his peace, Petros looks gravely at Aleixos's extended hand, regarding it with a look of contempt...feigned contempt as it turns out.  For just when Aleixos's face starts twisting, Petros's face breaks into a smile as embraces the man fully.  "Aleixos, we have fought at each other's side now several times, facing odds I was...not fond of.  You are my brother whether you would have me as yours or not.  I am just glad I am not your enemy." Pulling back and becoming more serious, Petros continues.  "No secrets.  Let's get a drink."

Aleixo laughs as he grip tighter. "A drink or more we most definitely deserve. Music, wine and some entertainment!"

" A drink, that sounds wonderf ... actually I think I might pass, tonight. I am grateful for the opportunity to relax though. These old bones need a rest from time to time." Xan smiles companionably at both his friends as he walks past, before heading for the walls where he settles down, with his thoughts for company.

Actually, Aleixos... before that drink...would you help me with something?  I know Orion wouldn't want all our friends in his house sharing this meal.  I think tonight, we give thanks to the gods and all feast outside.  What do you say?"

Aleixo nods, "A fair compromise, you want me to help put together something approaching a feasting table?" 

Petros smiles.  "You have one of those pendants Xan has too?  If so, I can explain about the whole boiling you in acid thing."

Sval watches the exchange between the two with a slight grin on his face. Now that these two had agreed, they could get down to clearing the monsters out of this place. Capricornus first, black dragon next, and whatever else came after. "Let me help, Aleixo," Sval says. "Better than standing on the wall and brooding."

Aleixo and Sval gather spare planks, sections of log and other construction materials from in and around the trading post and soon a long table has been raised just outside the front gates. A delicious aroma wafts from Sophia's kitchen, filling the evening air, and by dusk everyone has gathered for the meal. The moonradish soup is a true delicacy of the savanna. It's clear why Orion is so fond of the dish and it does indeed do much for the man's mood.

During dinner, Petros, seated between Sophia and Azul, stands, holding his mug of ale in his right hand.  As people notice him standing, the conversation grows quieter, drawing everyone's attention to him. "Everyone, I first want to say how honored I am to be counted among your number, and to be the humble guest of the generous and proud Orion and his enchanting and kind wife, Sophia.  Your home is a redoubt of your love for each other and a monument to civilization in the beautiful wilds of the north, Orion.  And your food is a testament to your skill and a sign of your affection for your husband, who I know loves this stew, Sophia.  Having tasted it, I can only say that his taste in food must be only surpassed by his taste in women."  Raising his glass, Petros punctuates his praise, saying "to our magnanimous hosts and their magnificent home," and takes a sip of ale. In the comparative quiet during everyone's drink, Petros notices that Mel has begun playing a soft melody.  He continues, saying "I envy you your family Orion. I never knew my father. My mother died when I was young. I didn't have brothers. I didn't have sisters. I grew up on my own without a family. Although many of us have just met, and we have not always agreed in all matters, we have fought by each other's side.  We have bled for one another and for the noble mission to bring law and freedom to the North. I consider each of you, my brothers," and, looking down the table, nodding to Brim "and sisters. This family is united through common cause: defending the innocent; felling the monstrous; building the future.  But it is also united through common effort: the blood we shed; the labor we exert; the laughter we share; the memories we make. Let us always look back on tonight as the first of many family feasts."   Again, raising his glass, Petros summarizes, declaiming "To the birth of a new family."  During the second drink, Petros notes the music gaining steam, transitioning into a new movement.  "Finally, I want to acknowledge our guests of honor tonight," he says raising his glass to indicate the kobolds sitting down the table from him. "Rikrak, you and your kin are new friends, visiting a neighbor who, up until now, had never really known you, and whom you had never really  known either.  You met us in the wild.  You were freshly gorged on moon radishes and were presented with a force of men bigger than you in size and larger than you in number, but I knew from your eyes that you were undaunted.  Still, though ready to test yourselves against us, you took a chance and trusted us.  You lent us your companionship for a time, and you brought us your radishes to share.  Your leap of faith has been rewarded in delicious stew and in new friends. We can all learn from your example in trust and, most especially, in courage."   Pausing to raise his glass one final time this night, Petros notices the music crescendo timed perfectly to his speech.  "To facing the future as friends!"

As Petros finishes speaking Azul adds his voice to the toast and enthusiastically says "To the Future!" before downing the rest of the whiskey in his glass. It had been some time since he had a good drink, and while a different spice palette than he was used to the stew was exactly what was needed after the tension of the past few weeks. Patting Petros on the back as the man takes his seat   "Well said!" His gravelly voice cheerful with a slight slur beginning to build. Refilling his glass he leans in and says  "When this all began I must confess that I was worried when the General chose you as the leader for this expedition. But you have been truly impressive these last few days. From how you handled Locke, charming Rikrak, and even finding a way to make peace with Aleixo. I believe the God's smile upon you my friend." Clapping him again on the back before he takes another sip of his drink. 

Brim sits at rapt attention throughout Petros' speech, nodding along with his every word. At the mention of his childhood, she found herself quickly tearing up. Her own situation had been quite the opposite - having been born into a large clan where every goblin in it knew each other and might as well have been her brother or sister or aunt or uncle. The idea of having grown up in such solitude seemed... mystifyingly foreign to her. And yet she'd nonetheless found herself an outcast of her family, alone both physically and philosophically. By the time she refocused though, he was nodding directly at her. Sister . She gasped. Then beamed. Then clenched her eyes shut tightly as the tears welled up faster than before. It didn't seem possible a group of humans - of human knights and lords  no less (and one grumbly but surely no doubt soft-under-all-those-scales Dragonborn!) - could ever value her as such.  Perhaps I really can change things, after all. She reached up, clutching the large pearl locket she wore close to her chest.

With the feast ended and his belly full of hearty radish stew, Sval sets up so that he has line of sight on the couple bandits that Xan had indicated were not exactly trustworthy. He did not attempt to hide the fact that he was watching them as he kneeled down in a meditative position, his sword laying in front of him. As he settled down, he noticed Azul coming over with the same idea. He nods to the dragonborn, who sets up his bedroll near Sval's. Keeping his voice low, and trusting that the wind would carry what few words the bandits could hear away from them, he speaks.  "I see you have as little trust in our new friends as I do."

Azul takes a long drink from his waterskin before responding, he had stopped drinking early into the feast knowing what the rest of his night would entail. A smile crosses his snout as he sees the Norscan he feared he would be alone in this task.   Fishing a cloth and oil from his pack, he unsheathes his sabre and takes a seat across from the Norscan. Letting a puff of air out of his snout he says in gravelly Hellenic  "It is good to see you my friend, it is reassuring not to be alone in my worries." As he speaks he begins to clean and polish his sabre.   "Our companions have large hearts but I fear their abundance of compassion will be our undoing." Inspecting and then sheathing his blade "It is the will of our group, so I have chosen vigilance." Looking Sval in the eye he says with a smile "Though it is reassuring to have you here tonight, I feared I was alone in my suspicions."

Sval chuckles, pulling out a whetstone and beginning to run it across his own blade with a splash of water from his canteen. "You can always count on me to be suspicious." He looks through the gate, where Aleixo can faintly be seen moving about within the walls of the outpost. Brimblebread walks by a few moments later. "Large hearts, indeed. When I woke up in the Breannian forest a few years ago," the Norscan points to the scars running up his neck, "I had this mutation. A conviction came with it: those who are skeptical and trust no one must exist so that those with large hearts can make the world a better place." He flips the sword and begins running the stone along the other side of the blade. "Brimblebread's world can't exist without people like me -- and you, I think."

Smiling "I fear her world may be more fiction than reality. But in the end you are right, I fight for glory and the chance of a better world."  Staring up at the night sky admiring the star visible from Hellenia. Looking back to the Norscan   "Do you miss your home Sval?" Sighing he leans back and takes another pull from his waterskin and says   "I've been thinking of the deserts of Saramia often, I never thought it would be the case but I've found that at times I miss it.  Hellenia and it's people are fiery and full of adventure. But I miss the gentle wisdom and stability of my people. Though I know at the end I'm where Athena wants me to be."

Sval listens intently to the dragonborn's talk of his home. He hadn't thought much of Fenrir since leaving -- or rather, being forced to flee. But thinking back on it now, there had  been good times. His relationship with his brothers and father had always been strained. But his mother had loved him unconditionally. He missed her --  the kindness of her voice, the radiance of her smile. His one regret in running away was that he would likely never see her again.  "I don't miss home," he says after a while. "I miss people. When I left I had to leave them behind." He winces and touches his chest, the cold emptiness feeling all the more hollow now. "Probably wouldn't recognize me now." Enough introspection.  He snaps himself out of his reverie and pushes down on the sea-ice where his heart should be. "But yes. I think we are where we need to be."

Orion absconds to his bed with Sophia, while Aleixo and Xanthos pitch their tent close to that of Azul and Sval. The night is overcast, but comfortably cool. Aside from the occasional cry of one of the savanna's nocturnal denizens, the night passes peacefully. The next day, the horses are saddled not long after first light, ready for the expedition north to the Old Sycamore. The band of eleven riders and their five smaller passengers make good time across the plains, unmolested by any of the savanna's natural dangers (such a large group being a natural deterrent to all but the most ferocious of predators). By mid morning, the greying hulk of a sycamore tree clinging precariously to its last years of life can be seen looming over the hills of the soutern Kamelands. The hundred-foot-tall tree is visible for miles around. Before long, the convoy of riders stumbles across what appears to be the aftermath of a war in miniature - a battlefield strewn with kobold and mite corpses from their latest engagement. Rikrak and his friends howl in fury and sorrow, immediately slipping down from their horseback perches to check the fallen.

Aleixo too, slips from his horse, calling for his shield and spear. "They dies in glorious battle, surrounded by their fallen enemies, a glorious end that we should be lucky to receive. But now is the time for you to gain your own vengeance." 

Rikrak nods to Aleixo, but holds up a single claw to indicate that vengeance will wait. "First honour dead. Bakdak, Dikdok, Gaknok, vakka grovisv," he adds in Draconic to his three companions, before drawing a sharp blade and beginning to saw through the neck of one of the fallen mites. The other kobolds scurry about gathering any long, straight branches that they can find.

"Can we help you Rikrak?"

Brim sees the fallen kobolds and quickly leaps from her horse, running up to Rikrak with tears in her eyes,  "I am so very sorry Rikrak, I know you must be in so much pain right now." She quickly starts to pull some things from her rucksack, digging furiously around inside, "If you don't mind, I would be happy to lead some rites for them. I saw a cousin of mine do it all the time back home." She helps the other kobolds gather branches and assemble the bodies in a row. Arranging the sticks in such a way as to create a miniature pyre around their bodies, she steps up alongside Rikrak. In her mind, she thought back to the numerous times tragedy had befallen her clan. There was the time their greatest warrior, Ol' Crangledrop, had met his end to the razor-sharp tusks of a wild boar. No one had suspected eating one whole could do that to one's insides, after all. Then came the whole fracas with that gnome clan. Their most trusted runner was sent to bring a list of terms to the gnomes, only to never return. Turned out the poor fellow had been snatched straight off the ground by a Roc; never made it further than an hour outside the clan. They didn't find out until almost two weeks into the ensuing war that started after blaming the gnomes, though... And who could forget when the previous shaman was ignominiously slain by the clan itself after the aforementioned gnome disaster. Just one tragedy after another, really. In each case, Brim had been quite young, but nevertheless had gathered intently alongside her brothers and sisters to watch the proceedings. She never forgot the pomp and circumstance undertaken. "We are here now to recognize the lives of these brave and heroic kobolds. Bakdak, Dikdok, Gaknok... these names will live on long after we have been horribly mauled to death by an owlbear and left as smears in a ditch, or burned alive by a mob of angry humans. They will remind our brothers and sisters that though life is short and often terrible, it also is cruel. Therefore, we must instead find joy in the pain." Brim reaches behind her back, pulling from it a small wooden instrument. A large, water-drop shaped base extends up into a short-necked handle. The body is painted a dark jade and faded or chipped off along its edges to reveal the pale-wooden finish below. Running across the lower portion of the main body, the exaggerated grin of a cartoonish grinning goblin is painted under the instrument's strings.  Bringing the instrument up in front of her, Brim closes her eyes and starts to strum. Three kobolds lie dead Bang! The might of mean King Mite He's going to pay The words come rather easily to her as she dutifully strums. The strumming, not so much though. The sound is off-key and strained; the strings untuned and frayed.  I'd like to have met Bakdak, Dikdok, and Gaknok Oh well, shouganai! She gestures to Rikrak to start the fire as she sings a final verse - her shrill voice rasping through each strained syllable. So now we'll ignite Ahh! May they burn for a fortnight  Lil dragons take flight! As the ear-splitting song comes to an end, Brim turns to Rikrak with a big smile, "I hope that was okay. Oh, and make sure to loot them first! In my clan, taking all of the dead's stuff for yourself was the highest sign of respect... although come to think of it I'm not sure why that is..."

“Poor things. Yes, let us honor these fallen warriors, and drink to their spirits.” Though Melanthios had seemed disinterested in the little dragonkin before, this display of genuine emotion seems to move him. He assists the others in preparing the small funeral and busies himself in finding any thing that could be used to hold a libation, resorting to large leaves from the sycamore when nothing else is available. As Brim leads the rites, Meli accompanies her  strumming with his lyre. The melancholy notes he plays don’t overtake her song, but rather fill in the space to give a surprisingly deep and haunting tone to the discordant melody. As Brim finishes, Melanthios raises his own skin in a toast. He pours some of the libation upon the ground and has the others do the same. “For those we’ve lost today, for those we’ve lost before, and for those we’ve yet to lose.” With the last line he takes a drink and gives an approving nod to Brim.

"Skal," Sval says, raising his waterskin. "To the fallen." It wasn't anything like a Norscan funeral, but it was honorable none the same. 

Rick (Petros | Sleep) said: "Can we help you Rikrak?" "Gather sticks. Make spikes," Rikrak tells Petros with a nod, continuing to decapitate each Mite in turn. The other three kobolds (Bakdak, Dikdok and Gaknok) set about sharpening their branches into staves, atop which they mount the heads of the fallen mites as a warning to their enemies. Nevertheless, they look on with wonder as Brimblebread goes about arranging their dead beneath her pyre and clap and cheer wildly at her performance in honour of their dead. Once the song is over, Rikrak embraces the kobolds' new friend, while the other three start to go about dismantling the pyre and digging graves. "Now bury dead. Sootscales earth dragons. Return to earth."

Xan watches the rites from afar, distracted and unwilling to join in with the others now. He had made his excuses to Dawid and left him with the other members of the party as he walked a little way apart. Sitting with his back against a sloping rock jutting from the ground he closed his eyes and took a series of calming breaths, focussing his energies. As peace came over him he pulled the gemstone from the pouch it had been resting in. His tanned fingers traced the cut facets gently, as his eyes, one brown, the other the purest white, stared down at it. " What secrets do you contain I wonder, what magics... Unless I miss my guess you are in my dreams of late, tempting me, offering me power, power that you know I crave. Enough of these games, what do you wish to say to me?" Focusding on the jewel Xan absently brushes a lock of his golden hair back from his face, as he stares deep into the reflective surfaces of the stone, seeing himself as if submerged in a pool of blood, but fractured dozens of times over.

With the Sootscale dead buried and the warning to the mites erected, the band ride on towards the Old Sycamore. All seems quiet upon arrival. The sun is high in the sky and the mites shy from its brilliant rays. The kobolds mutters amongst themselves for a few moments and then Rikrak declares that Bakdak, Dikdok and Gaknok will be leaving for their own caves, which are just six miles south of here. With a wave, the trio set off homeward.

Riding over to Aleixos, Petros quietly asks, "What do you think?  We could burn the tree down on top of them.  Or did you want to offer these things a chance to join our army too?  I don't think that would sit well with Rikrak."

"No need. I think if we call out, they will come to fend us off. We don't look like that many and they just met the kobolds in open battle." He smiles at Petros. "Do not confuse my not wanting to punish defeated men with humiliating mutilation or death with a lack of taste for honourable battle against warriors who have chosen the profession, my arm will not hesitate fighting a foe we have made decisions to fight."

Seeing the conversation Xan approaches, realising they are discussing plans to confront the mites. "They are nocturnal fey, we are unlikely to see them until the sun sets, it may serve us better to wait until then." Looking at Aleixo he adds, " Tunnels can run long and deep. Do you know how many of the little critters are down there? I know you like an honourable fight but if there are dozens of them ready to charge out we may have a tougher time than you think."

Azul rides up in time to hear the last of Xan statement. Nodding in agreement  "Mites are dangerous fey, they care only about their pranks and games with no regard to the lives they disrupt or end."   Azul grunts and a puff of smoke escapes through his clenched teeth "The trading company I traveled to Hellenia with had an encounter with a group of mites in Eladrin. They worked their magics, and it felt like the whole company was on edge. Arguments broke out over issues of little consequence, grown men shouting at one another over being a few minutes late or snoring a little too loud. This frustration compounded on itself until an argument over rations turned into a riot. People who had travelled together for years turned against each other and fought as if they were possessed." Azul casts his amethyst eyes first to his sabre and quickly his gaze drops to his feet. Quietly saying   "Too many died that day. We were only spared further bloodshed due to the intervention of Elven druid. He stopped the fighting, explained what the Mites were and why this was happening and provided what was left of the company safe passage out of their territory." Looking back towards Petros  "They are nocturnal creatures and probably do out number us by a significant amount, I think our best strategy would be to hit them hard and fast before nightfall. Their tunnels will be a perfect chokehold for limiting the amount of soldiers they can throw at us." His smile returns as he looks to Aleixos "Nothing has broken our shield wall yet my friend, I doubt today will be the day it fails us. And if we do our work well the mites will be overwhelmed and we can limit the power of their evil eyes. Hitting them hard and fast before nightfall should give us an edge to combat their numbers and feyish magic."

Sval pulls his horse up. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's move quickly before the realize we're out here."

"Worry not about their evil eyes. The mites sow chaos yes, but their charms are like the buzz of a gnat compared to the thunderous roar of Dionysus. Don't forget that you are now in the company of 'feyish magic' ," Melanthios says with a wink to Azul, clearly amused by the dragonborn's words. "And my wyrd songs are far more potent than the buzzing of these insects." 

"Sound right to me.  Let's hobble the horses and do this.  Hard and fast.  But stay together.  We don't want to get lost down there.  And I want a tough rear as well.  If we get trapped between two groups of mites, I don't want them finding us with a tender underbelly."

Brim nods along as the group gathers together. She looks to Rikrak and gives a thumbs up, "We'll bring some justice to your fallen brothers today, Rikrak." Looking to Petros, she sidles up and looks worryingly down at her stomach, "Sir Petros my tummy has always been somewhat tender,"  she gazes up into his eyes with steely determination as she raises both hands in clenched fists,  "but I will do my best to not let that get in the way of this fight, I promise!" 

Sval laughs and pokes Brim in the shoulder, where the leather of her armor protects her neck. "That's what the armor is for, tiny warrior." He looks back at the tree. "Let's take up the rear guard and waylay any of these mites who might sneak up on us." Sval dismounts and begins scouting around the tree, but is unable to make heads or tails of the multitude of tracks. He looks back to the others. "More chaos here than a Norscan raiding camp after a few rounds of drinks," he says, shrugging. 

Aleixo nods, a broad grin on his face as he takes up his shield, spear firmly infront of him and looks for the entrance. "Hmm, where do we..."

The party scatter around the base of the tree, searching (without success) for an opening for several minutes, until Rikrak stick his little black head up from amongst the roots. "Here, biguns! Here!" Hidden amidst the ancient tree’s roots is root-lined shaft that drops 10 feet down to the middle of a low, narrow tunnel running east-west. The mites are small creatures, and their lair is sized for such. Ceiling height is rarely over 5 feet high, with much of the upper foot a tangle of roots and thin stalactites. "Biguns no fit well," Rikrak observes.

"Smoke perhaps? We could fill these tunnels and drive them out? It would certainly alert them to our presence though"

Brim bobbles up to the narrow entrance, peaking in with eyes wide. She grabs hold of some of the roots to aide Rikrak in pulling them up as best she can for the benefit of her towering friends. "Rikrak speaks true! You all are gonna have to squeeze just a teensy  bit." She gestures into the shaft towards Aleixo, "That could possibly work, but I'm not so sure that's the bestest idea, Sir Aleixo. If we do that we lose those choke points Sir Azul talked about!"

Nodding at the human "It's our best path, better they know we are here than to get trapped in the tunnels and be unable to properly fight. Xan and I should be able to control the flames enough to keep the fire in control and the smoke billowing."

Brim looks back to Azul in surprise, "Oh, I guess that's not a big deal after all." It did seem somewhat risky to start off immediately attacking their home though. "If we just start off burning their home, won't that just make 'em really mad and angry, though? If they're really dangerous like you said Sir Azul, is that really a good strategy?"

"We could make the choke point here, that way we won't be in the fire." Aleixo looks at Brim. "They are going to get mad when we start poking them with our spears anyway. Unless you want to go through and try to kill them all in their sleep, making them mad is inevitable. Unless you have another idea?"

Azul dismounts from Seian, taking his spear from the saddle.  "They are dangerous, and like Aleixo said this attack is going to anger them either way. It will go for better us if we can retain our mobility and keep them off balance. Between the smoke and a solid choke point we should be able to do so. I prayAthena blesses us and Mel's magic will be enough to counter theirs."

Rikrak looks around at Aleixo and Azul like they have two heads. "Biguns talk too much. Go inside. Kill mites. What problem?"

Sval laughs. "Listen to the sootscale. He knows what he's talking about."