Today’s snippet, titled “The Siege of Drezen (pt 1)”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s new (Good) Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
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      From her vantage point, Rhiallis could just barely make out Mira on the ground. She moved behind on of the great furry beasts leaving only her shadow visible to her allies on the road. Squinting, Rhiallis was puzzled by what she saw. Why is she behind the bloody things when she ought to be at their necks, releasing the cha- Oh. Ohhhh, sick. Mira, ew. Ew.
      She turned her head away, her belly suddenly queasy. The plan was solid, the thin crust of their own dung would render her all but invisible to the aurochs, but disgusting. Rhiallis had never been so glad that she was neither scout nor advanced party.
      “Solidly in the second line.”
      “Hmm?”
      “Oh, apologies, Mytra, I was just thinking-”
      Mytra’s lips curved into a smirk. “Glad you’re not down there rolling about in poop?”
      “Just so,” Rhiallis said.
      “She takes one for the team. And I’m glad it is her and not me also. Don’t feel like a bad friend, Rhiallis. I bet she knows we’re all grateful she’s willing to do the-” Mytra stifled a giggle. “Dirty work.”
      She felt a chuckle burble up and nodded. Leave it to Mytra to understand. Rhiallis thought. The elf was a priestess of Cernnunos, an obscure Empyreal Lord, and though she was quick to action like her patron, Rhiallis found her to be uncommonly perceptive and empathetic.
      “Mira is a dear friend, but sometimes I do not understand her motivations for being here – with us. For Graves and Celeste and myself, and Athynacious, the reasons are obvious. Our dedication to the faith is such that we can hardly be anywhere else and serve as we have been called. Kumiko is here by chance, truly, but her grudge against demon-kind goes bone-deep.
      “Jensen’s reasons are his own, though I think he really is just intellectually curious about what is happening out here, rather than altruistic in his choice,” Rhiallis continued, “But Mira, I know she has a good heart – as pure and true as any I’ve known, I’d say – but why she risks her considerable talents here rather than oh, I don’t know, plundering evil tombs in the Riverlands or something…”
      “She has mentioned a fallen friend,” Mytra said. She pushed her thick, blonde mane over her shoulder. Her gaze was fixed on Mira in the distance as if she feared making eye contact.
      Rhiallis nodded once and spoke the name reverently. “Seraphina.”
      “Yes.”
      “She believed in the cause, although like Jensen, she was a wizard. Her foster father is believed to have perished in the attack on Kenabres and… she gave her life too. I suppose avenging Sera is one of the main reasons Mira stays.”
      “Not avenging,” Mytra said, “But honoring.”
      “Yes. Ensuring that the sacrifice was not in vain.”
      “Right.”
      They fell silent for a moment, their comrades assembling around them as they readied themselves for the coming attack. Mira was done with at least two chains now; the time was nearly ready for an advance.
      “What about me?”
      “Huh?”
      Mytra nudged Rhiallis’ flank with her elbow. “C’mon, Rhiallis. Why do you think I am here? You’ve mentioned everyone but me.”
      “Your faith.”
      “I’m not a crusader, not really.”
      Rhiallis smiled. “No, but you’re a devout of Cernnunos. Perhaps I am the only one amongst us who truly knows much about it, but you forget that while Graves & Celeste are holy warriors in primary, I am a scholar-healer first and warrior second.”
      “Do tell,” Mytra crossed her arms at her chest. “What have your scholarly-healerly pursuits taught you of my faith?”
      She paused. “Almost as a druid circle, those of the Green Faith, the unnatural and unbalanced offend your Lord. And the Worldwound is both of those things; maybe you have a more direct connection to the ‘Wound, I admit I haven’t asked. But by the word of your Lord, an evil this great and overwhelming must be put down. The balance must be restored.”
      Making an impressed face, Mytra nodded. “Not bad.”
      “Ah, she’s done. See, there she comes!” Rhiallis pointed to a quick shadow moving along the inner rim of the dry moat. “Are you ready?”
      “Oh, as ready as I’ll be,” Mytra said. She dipped her head to kiss the hedgehog tucked between her breasts and as she drew her bow from her shoulder, Rhiallis saw Isaac, her badger-companion, peeking out of her backpack.
      “I feel the same.”
      Breathless, Mira loped into their midst and took a proffered canteen from Kumiko. She gulped at it hungrily. Between swallowed, she motioned to Jensen and gestured at the aurochs filth that she was caked in. “Get rid of it.”
      He wrinkled his nose, but complied. With a twitch of his long, elegant elven fingers, the feces disappeared and a pleasant, clean scent replaced the stench.
      “Thanks,” Mira grinned, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm. “We ready? They’re unchained.”
      “Move out!” Graves’ command was a harsh growl.
      Without hesitation, Mytra and Rhiallis fell into step. They made up a secondary row behind the front liners: Graves, flanked by Kumiko and Celeste.
      They were still moving in tight formation, about six hundred feet from the start of the bridge, when Jensen stopped suddenly.
      “Close enough,” Jensen said. He flicked one of his wands in the direction of the bridge and a tiny ball of energy shot forth.
      Nine other mouths gaped in horror and surprise as a Fireball erupted in the midst of their foes on the bridge. From here? We’re so far away, you bloody selfish wizard!
      “Damn it,” Graves cursed. She drew Radiance and motioned forward. “Let’s go!”
      Mytra, Athynacious, Celeste, Rhiallis, and Jensen began to run, but they were no match for the supernatural speed Kumiko and Graves had developed after the Wardstones’ power touched them all.
      “Wheeee!” Mira cried, as she leapt upon Graves’ cloak as the paladin took off at full, mythic speed. She clambered up her back and poised for the fight.
      If the situation were not so serious and so dire, Rhiallis would have stopped, doubled-over, and burst out laughing until she couldn’t breathe.
      “What the hell?”
      Rhiallis glanced at Mytra and gave her a helpless shrug. “The girl lives for the fight, I guess.”
      They trotted behind, unable to give any aid to their friends as four fireballs exploded upon them just before the reached the combat with the tieflings and cultists holding the bridge.
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Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me