Anvar stirred the fire and sipped his drink. “The peculiar thing about destiny, Mr. Newminor, is that it has a will of its own. We may be able to chart our own course, but the destination does not change.”
“I could not disagree more fervently,” Newminor retorted. “I control my own future. All I achieve must be on my own. I make my own luck, my own destiny.”
“And our arrival at just the right time to save you,” Anvar commented. “That was of your making as well, I suppose?”
“I did not need your help!” insisted Newminor. “Your arrival only hastened their departure. I would have found my own way out of the situation.” Anvar nodded without looking at his guest. It was clear that neither would sway the other’s point of view. Anvar was content to let the matter rest. Newminor, however, decided to go on the offensive.
“If you believe so strongly in fate and destiny, then do tell what brings three and a half elves into the middle of the Territory?” The party was silent for a moment. Then Newminor continued, “Well, tell me how close I am. You’re a bunch of rich types from Sartan, who think roughing it means sleeping with only two blankets. You are out, in one of the most dangerous areas in the world, seemingly without a clue, trying to fulfill some destiny. You didn’t know what you were getting yourselves in for or else you wouldn’t all be bandaged like you were in a war. Yet somehow, you carry Mandrean weapons and goblin water skins. Who would like to clear this up for me?”
The elves were stunned at how accurate Newminor had been. Until that moment, they hadn’t realized how lucky they were to make it so far.
“What was that last part?” Linvin asked.
“Look at the swords you carry,” Newminor remarked as he pointed. “No elf would craft such a thick blade. No dwarf would make one so long. All the weapons are exactly the same, so they were not compiled from bandits. Then consider the quality of the ore used and the alloy created. Humans forged those blades for soldiers. They are standard issue side arms in the Legions of the Mandrean Empire.
Newminor sighed and walked over to the party’s mules. “These skins you have are used almost exclusively by goblins. Notice the wide opening for the mouth. When you try to drink from them, the water likely runs down your face because the opening is too large. They were designed to cater to the larger mouths of goblins. So tell me, oh children of destiny, how you came to possess these items?”
“I could not disagree more fervently,” Newminor retorted. “I control my own future. All I achieve must be on my own. I make my own luck, my own destiny.”
“And our arrival at just the right time to save you,” Anvar commented. “That was of your making as well, I suppose?”
“I did not need your help!” insisted Newminor. “Your arrival only hastened their departure. I would have found my own way out of the situation.” Anvar nodded without looking at his guest. It was clear that neither would sway the other’s point of view. Anvar was content to let the matter rest. Newminor, however, decided to go on the offensive.
“If you believe so strongly in fate and destiny, then do tell what brings three and a half elves into the middle of the Territory?” The party was silent for a moment. Then Newminor continued, “Well, tell me how close I am. You’re a bunch of rich types from Sartan, who think roughing it means sleeping with only two blankets. You are out, in one of the most dangerous areas in the world, seemingly without a clue, trying to fulfill some destiny. You didn’t know what you were getting yourselves in for or else you wouldn’t all be bandaged like you were in a war. Yet somehow, you carry Mandrean weapons and goblin water skins. Who would like to clear this up for me?”
The elves were stunned at how accurate Newminor had been. Until that moment, they hadn’t realized how lucky they were to make it so far.
“What was that last part?” Linvin asked.
“Look at the swords you carry,” Newminor remarked as he pointed. “No elf would craft such a thick blade. No dwarf would make one so long. All the weapons are exactly the same, so they were not compiled from bandits. Then consider the quality of the ore used and the alloy created. Humans forged those blades for soldiers. They are standard issue side arms in the Legions of the Mandrean Empire.
Newminor sighed and walked over to the party’s mules. “These skins you have are used almost exclusively by goblins. Notice the wide opening for the mouth. When you try to drink from them, the water likely runs down your face because the opening is too large. They were designed to cater to the larger mouths of goblins. So tell me, oh children of destiny, how you came to possess these items?”
RSS Feed
