<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>Day 1</strong></span><br/><br/>Myrunue eyed Nsia carefully as she sprinkled some possible alchemical reagent on the meat and put it to the fire. She was about to return to her conversation with Angrim when the tiefling spoke up. The blonde knight raised her eyebrows in mock politeness and nodded, "It is not a particular technique. Only a skill honed through years of practice and training, rarely seen outside my order. My bow was made for a giant, and a giant's strength is required to loose its arrows."<br/><br/>She looked towards Vwyn, "So perhaps a few among you could string it... but there lies the second difficulty- I doubt you could hit anything with it. Not least a moving target."<br/><br/>Nsia began to introduce herself and the woman seemed a little off-put, but remained silent. She would remember her words...<br/><br/>Rysinder was still crouched by the body of the felled doe when Holly knelt beside him. The dwarven cleric recoiled at the sudden proximity of the elf. He caught himself staring at her cleavage and then stood up, his total height just barely past her own while she was crouching. The man was a dwarf, though his beard was thick- it clung to his jawline, no longer than the trimmed hair on his head. So unlike the old stories, one could even see the flesh of his neck, and he did not braid or dye his hair in the slightest. The cleric was dressed in tattered robes and various trinkets over trousers and work boots. His gear jingled with every move as he stepped backwards.<br/><br/>He quietly watched her work, and then listened as she explained herself. He went silent, along with the others, when Anton spoke up.<br/><br/>At the end, King Daedius looked up, "We<em> will </em>survive." He resolved aloud, though his features betrayed a man already half-dead. He wore no crown, only his own mane of thinning grey and black hair, "We must."<br/><br/>"Some of us have no choice but to." Vwyn said with a laugh as he elbowed the paladin Vaelor. The undead did not seem pleased at such a mockery of his fate.