I’m not one to second guess myself. I’m very Confident in the things that I KNOW I know… like Fighting… and Weaponry. (I’m a pretty good judge of ale, as well.) The Stuff that I don’t know I figure is neither Not Important or some Wise Ass will Make It His Life’s Work to share his Useless Knowledge with me. That’s okay. I just tune it out.
We all have our Strengths. I’m a Fighter; that’s what I do. I Kill Stuff. I’m getting pretty good at it. The Iron Giantess is Our Fearless Leader; she Kills Stuff too, but also has to Break Up Fights and Keep the Elves out of Trouble. Pixie Dust is our Assassin; she gets all Stealthy and Jumps the Bad Guys from behind. Father Weekend Drinks. And he’s also our Healer. Tree Hugger is actually Very Useful; he Listens at Doors and he’s pretty deadly with his Bow. (Have I mentioned, he’s always taking my Kill Shot. Very annoying, but I’m almost expecting it now.) The Other Elf is some kind of Magic User; I really don’t know what he does because he’s always somewhere else in battle. (I can say I have first hand Knowledge of his Ray of Frost thingee; not very Scary, but Damned Annoying!!) His Role in our Little Group is Mostly to be a Pain in My Ass! Stupid Elf!
So as I was saying, I know My Strength and I’m Confident in it. So why have I suddenly developed a Conscience? I never needed one before!! A goat-kissing Voice inside my head that is second guessing my every move?? It is farkling annoying!! It keeps telling me Not to Ruin My Second Chance and to Be the Better Person. What kind of Idiotic Talk is that? For instance, just after we were Raised From the Dead, and the Bard wanted to Sing Our Praises… (this is part of My Plan! If I can Gain Fame and Expertise, they’ll HAVE to find me a Worthy Contender for the Iridescent Guard!) I wanted to tell him to sing of Falkrunn the Ferocious who Death Could Not Hold… and what did I say? THE UNLIKELY HEROES??? Where in the Seven Levels of Hell did that come from? It came from my mouth but the words were not mine. Sometimes I want to Slam my Head into the Wall a couple of times. It’s worked before… but then I kept forgetting to Breathe and I just don’t have time for that now.
We made it to Thunderdome and helped out this Halfling, Frodo or something, by rescuing him from Slavers. The Underground City was pretty Impressive; obviously Dwarfs were involved in the making of it, and it is said that Minotaurs dwelt there once. We stayed in Froggy’s family’s Inn, but all they served was wine. I tried to ask some Dwarfs in the Common Room where to get some decent Ale and they treated me like a Serving Wench! My Conscience was saying things like ‘Well, if you acted more like a warrior and less like a Loud Mouth Guttersnipe, people would treat you with more Respect.’ Blah blah blah. That’s how most of Them at home treat me. All anyone sees is a Untried Youngling, but that’s going to Change.
I found the Tavern and Father Friday and I settled right in. For a Holy Man, he sure can Party. It wasn’t too long before Dixie comes in because the Elves got themselves into Trouble. Our Platinum Paladin was trying to Reason with this Half Ogre who called himself the Sheriff. I’m not sure what Woodsy Elf did to piss him off, but the Irritating Elf was running his mouth off and telling her not to pay the Taxes the Half Wit was demanding. Very Entertaining. One of the Magic Guys who Run the City showed up and still Pain-in-the-Ass Elf wouldn’t shut up. I was hoping that the Monster would smash him. Unfortunately, Arneth got it all under control and paid the taxes and we rounded everybody up and went on our way.
(I was actually a little impressed with the Flower Sniffer. He had this huge Half Oaf shouting at him, spitting the remains of his breakfast on him, and he remained Calm. Actually, I don’t think I ever have seen him Lose his Temper. Even my Verbal Barbs don’t seem to affect him; he just looks slightly amused. As if nothing shakes his Confidence. I can Respect that. He doesn’t get Rattled. I wonder if he has any advice on how to deal with Interfering Voices… )