Subject: Ragnar's time off

Ragnar spends much of his month in the temple reading and meditating. He thought about his previous return to Gorn, and all the help he had been able to give, but with remorse he recognizes that this time, he has his own issues to deal with. He was loathe to admit it, even to himself, but he recognized that he had not fully dealt with his pride in his combat abilities, and that in the most recent mission that had nearly caused tragedy to befall the group.

While Harp, Mund, Kal and Ran... and even Surin!... had shown their skill in combat, Ragnar had singularly failed to distinguish himself in that respect. In fact, the one time he had managed to help in combat, it was by using one of his last powerful blessings - a blessing that should have gone to healing Mund.

He hadn't realized at first, in fact not at all until the night Mund had suddenly changed into bear, causing him to contemplate what hidden dangers that newfound power would bring with it, but his decision had come close to costing the warrior his life. The fact that it took him so long to realize this shook him; he had grown up in the Wildlands, he had heard the tales of those who would fight with superhuman tenacity, only to drop dead when the adrenaline ran off. In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion Mund had even mentioned it to him once. It was not like Ragnar to forget such a critical and potentially life-saving piece of information as that, but in the heat of the moment he'd ignored his companion's need to focus on the fight. Only his brother's intervention had saved his life.

These thoughts were his constant companion during the first week at Gorn. The second week he ventured out of his room more frequently, taking advantage of the good will their successful mission had generated to speak at length with several of the wisest (and highest ranking) clerics in the temple. Though most of their advice and comments had been insightful, none of it seemed quite right to him, and his prayers for guidance seemed to indicate that their words were not what he needed, and he retreated back into solitude.

Finally, near the end of their third full week in Gorn, he ventures out again, feeling the need to interact with people once again. Unsure of where he is going, he lets his feet guide him as he concentrates on his thoughts. He passed a hallway that he knew would take him to the guest area, where many of his companions were lodging, but he passes on by, lowering his face a bit as he does so. He still wasn't brave enough to admit his doubts and flaws to his companions. The thought shamed him, but there it was.

How did Kal do it? He certainly hadn't been reticent about sharing his doubts with others. Of course, those were suspicions about first Harp and then Mund, rather than himself, but he seemed to have grown past at least his doubts about Harp. And that was certainly what Ragnar needed to do now, to put aside his doubts and grow past them. With a sudden start he realizes that he had stopped in front of a door. As he takes in his surroundings, he suddenly finds the carpet at his feet quite remarkable. Someone had really put a lot of work into that. There was a lump in his throat, making it hard to swallow. Of course... he was too ashamed to tell his companions his doubts, so he came here, to the one person in the world whose approval mattered to him even more than theirs did... had, in the past, mattered even more than the approval of Heironeous himself, though Ragnar had eventually passed that stage of outright worship.

Finally he musters his courage, knocks, and enters. Jaryth Corron, ever courteous, had risen to greet him, though Ragnar wished he would not. He had never felt more like he was intruding on this great man's time and privacy than he did now. The paladin welcomed him as he always did, and Ragnar gave a few polite replies, but the larger man quickly realized his heart was not in it, and that he was there for some important reason.

"What is it that's bothering you?" They had known each other long enough now to value candor, but Ragnar still found himself needing to warm up to his topic.

"General Corron, you know full well how I've always idolized you. Ever since you showed up in our village... it didn't even have a name, but you stayed for weeks healing everyone. And then, when you freed us... I couldn't even remember not being a slave. My mother told me stories, of course, but I never truly believed her... It never occurred to me that anyone, mortal or divine, cared what happened to us.

"Even when I returned to my mother's home, surrounded by relatives who, I now realize, really did care for me, I couldn't help but think that the person who really cared, the one who had actually helped, was a god seldom mentioned our people. And when I came here and found that you were here as well, I couldn't believe my fortune. I would be here, able to see the person I most admired, able to watch what you did, how you did it, to learn from you, to..." Ragnar trailed off, thinking about what he had been about to say. "To be you... that's what I wanted. But that's not right, is it? That's my problem, I'm still trying to be you, and I'm not. I wanted to be a great crusader, a powerful holy warrior, when Heironeous needed me to be more thoughtful, more mindful of the needs of others, more mindful of my relationship to him."

Jaryth finally speaks again, saying only "Heironeous is the Battle Lord, Ragnar."

"Well I'm not planning on taking a vow of nonviolence, if that's what you're worried about," Ragnar snorts. "But the thing I was trying to become... it wasn't me. That's why I've been beset with these horrible doubts all the time. I'm not the fighter that Harp is, or Kal, or...Mund," at the last second biting back Ran's name, unsure of the reaction it would receive. "But I'll do my part." He smiles. "It seems you've managed to ease my burdens again, and you've hardly said ten words this whole time."

"I find that most of my good advice comes when my mouth is shut," the general chuckles. "I'm glad you could come by today, Ragnar. It's been a pleasure to see you again." They both stand, and Ragnar walks to the door, far more confident than he had entered.

OOC: I had intended to write up a bit more describing Ragnar's purchases, but I'm almost on the end of the second page and that's getting just a bit ridiculous, so I'll just list them so you all know what he's getting: He's trading in his longsword for a cold iron masterword longsword (I may still write that up, as it's a fairly significant decision for him to make) and buying a periapt of wisdom +4, a ring of protection +1, boots of striding and springing, a cloak of resistance +1, and two platinum rings for the shield other spell.

Subject: The next mission

OOC: Harp, of course, will go.

Flashing back a few days. (Appologies to Kal and Josh).

Shortly after their meeting, Kal is anxious to see what this new blessing Harp has offered will do for him. "Harp, lets go right now to the training yard. I want to see how this works."

"Alright, if you insist, but I have to stop by my quarters first. Head on down and I will meet you there." Watching Kal nod in assent, Harp heads back to his cell. Damn, he had wanted to avoid this. If Kal was hit, Harp was going to show it, and Harp might be able to hide in the middle of a normal battle, doing so on the edge of the training yard would be more difficult. The only way he would be able to do so would be to hide as much of his body as possible. Pulling out his robes, he puts on a pair of gloves and his new cloak, trying to keep only his face exposed. If asked, he would just tell Kal that he had devotions to attend later that day.

Down in the yards, Kal is stretching, preparing himself for what is to come. He sees Harp, but is a bit surprised when the big 1/2 orc is not in his armor. He had thought he would spar with Harp. "What's wrong Harp, you afraid to face me now!!" he says with a little laugh.

"No, no, nothing like that. I just have never used this blessing before, and I need to see what type of concentration I need when it is active. I don't want it to fail us in an important moment." Nodding his understanding, Kal stands aside as Harp approaches the Weaponsmaster. "Brother, we need two opponents, skilled with the sword. They will fight against the elf. Full contact, but with the flats of the swords and no blows to the head. We are trying something here, so call a pause if signaled." The weaponmaster nodds his agreement. This had been done before, so it was not new.

Heading back to where Kal is standing, Harp calls him over. "Are you ready for this? Remember, this does not make you immune to injury, it just makes the injuries less severe. The others have been told to use the flats. If you must hit one of them with that needle of yours, do it in an arm or a leg - not through one of their hearts." With that, Harp starts to chant the words of the prayer. In a few seconds, a slightly shimmering nimubs expands out of the ring on his hand and grows to expand to the ring on Kal's hand, then slowly envelopes the elf. A feeling of strength, power, healthfullness suffuses him. He feels like he can take on anything. Turning to the two sparring partners, the elf sings out an elvish cry and spins toward them, his confidence flowing through his arms and down to the point of his blade.

Over the next few minutes, a display of fancing prowess as few had seen is put on. While Kal is obviously the better sword, the two opponents get in a few good hits here and there. However, whenever they do strike, the wounds they leave are much less severe than Kal would have expected. In a normal fight, Kal had normallys be able to only take a few hits before coming dangeruosly closed to loosing his life. Now, it seemed like he could go on forever. Was this what it was like for Harp and Mund? To have wounds seem like nothing? Why with this blessing, Kal thought, there was almost nothing he could do.

At the side of the combat circle, Harp winces each time the elf gets hit. His loose robes covering the obvious signs of the damage his is taking, he reminds himself that he will have to stop by Brother Ragnar when he was able to see about getting his wounds healed before long. As it is, he has to pray for a few minor prayers when some of the open wounds appear on his neck. He just needs to keep this from Kal while they are here in the city. Once they are on the road, the only time Kal would get hurt Harp was probably going to get hurt as well. Only a few more minutes, and this display would end, and Harp could make his goodbyes for the day.

Subject: Harp and Kal

Thanks for writing that up Kevin. I tried to get started on it a few times, and I could never really get the ball rolling.

I'll try to write something up tonight, covering the same scenario from Kal's point of view.