4e: Ra fal Centipedes

After a few days of flying, we had decided to take a detour to an island infested by giant centipedes to practice fighting as a team in a controlled situation. It would be an easy fight for all of the veteran adventurers, which would let us focus on practicing our teamwork and giving Mary and Mabellyne their first taste of combat.

Everyone knew that Mary was not an adventurer, so we all set up the line of battle to protect her while giving her the chance to fight bugs one at a time. But Mabellyne's situation was trickier. While it was clear to me that she was a civilian expert, Gladys had jumped to the conclusion that Mabellyne was an experienced adventuring rogue, and made tactical assumptions accordingly. Mabellyne had not corrected this assumption.

During introductions, Mabellyne had always been cagey about her experience. She focused on her technical qualifications and engineering knowledge. She had told stories about picking locks and filching items and setting traps and hiding and sneaking and almost being caught while doing these things. She was telling the truth, and told these stories with a kind of drama and flair that hinted at dungeon-diving escapades, but they could just as easily have described childish pranks done under the noses of adults. She gave the impression of experience without ever directly claiming it.

I did not know what Tsinta and Sofonisba knew, but they both treated Mabellyne as though she was an experienced adventurer. And of course, we were all great heroes in Mary's eyes. So everyone else either truly believed that Mabellyne was a veteran, or acted like they believed it. I did not know exactly what Mabellyne's game was, whether she was plotting for status or simply trying to fit in due to a feeling of insecurity.

This was a knot that I would have to untie later. For this fight, I needed to make sure that Mabellyne was protected as well, without making it obvious that I was doing that. This was done by assigning her to an archery role, staying back and shooting bugs with her crossbow. I would prepare healing spells and other contingencies for if she panicked and shot someone in the back.

Thankfully, that never happened. She was a steady and competent archer. Her shots did not have that extra precision and punch you would expect from a real rogue, but the bugs were so weak it did not matter. Mary also did well, competently handling herself and scoring several good hits on the bugs with her family's magic scimitar. All of our fights went fine, with no real incidents or nasty surprises. I had little faith that things would go so well if Mabellyne was ever surprised and attacked directly by something, or if Mary ever sensed that the team was not in control of the situation, but that was a problem for the future.

This had been a good day, bonding us further as a crew, and we would finish it off by feasting on the flesh of our vanquished foes.

In theory Sofonisba was the chef in charge of this, but when it comes to barbecue everyone thinks she is the expert. Gladys was actually needed to monitor the alchemists's brew of strange chemicals she had used to preserve the insect flesh, and make sure they cooked off properly, but Tsinta and Mabellyne were just making nuisances of themselves.

"We need to baste it again so it will not dry out."

"That would be true if we were using a vinegar-based sauce, but they already got a mustard glaze."

"Mustard buries taste. Proper spicing is subtle. Let meat be itself."

"Invalid argument. Naturalistic fallacy."

"She is right. If we let this meat 'be itself' it would be a mass of rotting sludge."

"We need more fuel, grab another bundle of straw.

"Not that much!"

"I know. I am just drying these out for later."

"Well, you better make sure they do not catch fire."

"This would be a lot easier with proper logs."

"Not going to happen. Basically every ecosystem capable of growing trees is either already colonized or too dangerous for us to safely explore."

I considered intervening to stop the bickering, but they would need to learn how to sort it out themselves. Now that everyone was more comfortable with each other, they were putting less effort into being polite and even-tempered. That was necessary; nobody can function well for weeks while constantly being on their best behavior at all times, but it would mean that personality conflicts would start to whip up soon. Letting them argue about cooking now would let them get more comfortable with each other and practice managing each other's quirks.

So I walked away from the smoke and noise, did a quick scan of the environment for threats, and went back to the ship to check on its mooring.

Mary was lying on her back in the grass near the ship, looking up at the stars. When she heard my footsteps, she glanced at me, then looked back up. "They're so beautiful."

I sat down, with my back to a rock, where I could look at Mary and also see the ship and the barbecue in my peripheral vision. "Yes, they are."

Mary looked at me. "You don't sound like you mean it."

I shrugged. "People say that stars or mountains or forests are beautiful, but I never really see it. I care about people; I see beauty in their stories and dreams. Nothing else speaks to me like that."

Mary thought about this. "Did you think that Boomport was beautiful?"

I snorted. "It was a filthy mess, like any port."

"I thought it was beautiful. It was so alive and vibrant, full of things to discover, like, um, like the city was one giant story book, with a thousand authors, all of them telling their own little stories but it adds up to one huge grand interesting story that you can never really know all of it but you desperately want to."

I stopped to consider this. "I think I see what you mean. I have heard other bards talking about working a crowd, how a mass of people can act like one, and they say similar things. But that was never me. I work with individuals, and with small crews and teams, but not crowds."

"I wouldn't even know you were a bard if Gladys hadn't called you one. At first I thought you were a paladin."

I fake-glared at her. "I will try not to take that as an insult."

"Do a lot of people make that mistake?"

"No, most people take one look at me and assume I am a barbarian or fighter. If they see me cast a spell they assume warlock. Why did you see a paladin?"

"I dunno, you seemed magical somehow. And you have this sense of power and authority and purpose that I'd only seen in church people with divine blessings."

"I see. Well, thank you."

"Why don't you like paladins?"

"They are dangerous. They do not listen to people. They believe that they know best and everyone should follow their rules. They make everything about them, they twist everyone into being a part of their story, instead of respecting the stories that already exist. And it does not help that most of them are dumber than a troll."

Mary giggled. 

I continued. It was nice to talk to someone who was just curious, not a threat or competitor or business contact or someone I would have to manage. "You know that I am the first one to lose patience with all that wizardly crap, people who think that they should rule the world just because they have a lot of book smarts. The world is made of people, and knowing how to deal with them is the most important thing. But you have to have some knowledge and sense, or at least be willing to listen to people who do, before you gather up a horde of followers and go on a crusade."

Mary was listening intently. I realized what was happening; I was playing the role of wise stern mentor. What I said now would be part of her story forever, and would shape her understanding of the world. I paused to collect my thoughts, and then continued, measuring my words carefully.

"Having power without guidance will make you just mess everything up. That is always true for everyone, but it is most dramatic with magical power. History books are full of stories of paladins and sorcerers and warlocks ruining countless lives because they were trying to follow some mad plan to impose their will on the world. Clerics are guided by gods and church traditions and wisdom, wizards are guided by intellect and study and science, and bards are guided by lore and stories and the will of the people. But other spellcasters are likely to be loose cannons guided by nothing, and paladins are the most dangerous of the bunch because they always think they are right, and because people tend to follow them blindly."

"What about rangers and druids?"

"They are mostly like clerics. Although they tend to care about the land more than people, and I never trust that. You should always listen to people, their dreams and stories, and let that guide your actions. If you think you know better than everyone else, then you are probably wrong."

"So paladins are dangerous because they ignore what everyone else knows and wants?"

"That is right."

"So if everyone else thinks something is beautiful and important, and you just ignore it or don't care about it, then you are acting like a paladin."

"Yes."

Mary smiled slyly and looked up at the stars.

I thought for a couple seconds, and then burst into a great booming gust of laughter. "Okay, I see what you did there. The thing is, I am not stopping you from enjoying the stars. I am not telling you that you are wrong for seeing beauty in them. As long as you are a decent crew member, you can do or love anything you want. And when you tell me that the stars are beautiful, I will agree with you."

I made my voice more serious. "And, most importantly, if I think something is beautiful, I will not tell you that you should also see it as beautiful. Even if more people are like me, I will let you follow your own story."

Mary nodded solemnly.

We sat there, in silence, for several minutes. She went back to admiring the stars, while thinking about our talk. I did another casual scan for threats, looking for anything moving in suspicious ways.

I looked over at the barbecue, and saw that the elves and goblins were almost finished. Mabellyne was taking all of the meat out of the exoskeletons and arranging it on a serving platter. There was a brief conversation with her and the others, and then the elves all joined her while Gladys started gathering up all the carcass scraps and taking them to a trash pit outside of the circle of firelight.

I addressed Mary. "The barbecue is almost ready. Nobody is making you do anything you do not want to do. You will always be a part of my crew, and you will always be my friend, no matter what you do or do not like to eat. But I ask you to think where your thoughts on food come from. Are they truly yours, or do they come from someone else's stories?"

Shortly after that, when Gladys bellowed 'Chow time!", Mary hopped up and bounded over without any hint of hesitation. I followed her, and saw that Mabellyne had arranged the food in the serving style of a human court. It could have been a pork barbecue; there was no hint of the food's insect origin. Mary grabbed a plate, served herself, took a bite, complemented everyone, and kept eating.

We all started laughing and smiling and enjoying our feast.

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