Temugen looked around, shivering slightly in his plate armor. It chafed him and he surely had a blister from a tight strap on his shoulder. He really hated wearing the lump of metal. But based on the beatings he had already taken, he would need to continue so. Plus, it was warm, he hated being cold. How in the Hells had he ended up here? He missed his warm kitchen, his oven, his favorite apron. The thought of his burnt out restaurant still filled him with pain and sorrow. But alas, maybe a half-orc was not mean to be happy. Dwyer implied as such as one of his many teachings.
“Happiness is relative boy! And it’s also bullshit! Now move!! Pull ups and sit ups, 50 each. while reciting to me the 5 stances of advantage when your opponent has lost his footing. And no the Tourini Application is not one for crying out loud, that is for pressing advantage on a parrying foe who has partially lost vision. Do you remember nothing?! Go!”
This brief reverie almost brought a smile to the half-orc’s lips. Which always looked unusual so he fought it down. He joined this group because it afforded him the opportunity to exact brutal vengeance on the bastards that burnt out his inn. As he looked around he considered…maybe I was hasty. We are soon to face a nasty dragon in its own lair in a frozen wasteland of ice.
At least his companions seemed to be of a good sort. Old Ioann, his oldest friend of the bunch. Head in books and with that ridiculous accent, Tem was rather fond of him. He thinks Ioann felt the same way, if he didn’t express it as such anyway. If he wasn’t lost in research or the bidding of whatever force gave him power. Then there was Melissandre. Tem was truly a little scared of the tiefling woman. She had been kinda to him, and was a formidable source of magic against their enemies. But she had a brooding anger to her, and he feared anyone who crossed her. Zane was the best speaker of the bunch, and it was hard not to like the man. Tem was sure that wherever he went there was a trail of broken hearted men left behind. He was pretty good with a bow too. Kindra was an enigma. So small but so fast and with such hidden power. Temugen needed regular heavy exercise and a good diet to keep his fighting skills up to par. But Kindra was fearless and unstoppable almost without effort. The little gnome was the latest addition to the group. Tem already like the little man. Unconventional, quick, intelligent. And a good sense of humor. How he survived half buried in ice all the time. Tem suspected he was probably a little crazy, but that was ok with him. He wondered if he had any gnomish recipes in his head! That would be awesome indeed, if they ever got out of here…
Tem pretended he didn’t hear the comments or see the glances his comrades gave him after their latest confrontations with the ice trolls. Yes, he had good training (the best). Yes, he has a beautiful magic halberd. Yes he exercises almost obsessively to keep the strength to swing the massive weapon. But there were other parts of the equation too. When Dwyer formulated Temugen‘s fighting style, it was a unique one. Dwyer would often chuckle as Temugen grew and displayed his prowess. “Wait till the world gets a look at this boy”, he would say under his breath. Temugen never understood, but he was starting to now.
And now, they have found this Makath person. His eyes scanned the exits of the room as the discussion continued…
