New World Order - Jungle Edition

The Squire chimes in

What in Fury’s name was that? I hear many tales of combat and danger of your group, but this recent religious jaunt was nothing more than a fairy tale. Wandering around in someone’s childhood memories, throwing banana peels and climbing trees? A squire is ready for a fight, not watching little elf school. Trusting your lives to a bunch of giddy cleric pretenders is the height of stupidity. Maybe you have all dreamed all of your adventures?

Who’s in charge here? When danger arises, everyone goes off and does whatever they want. No command structure. No sense of order. No formation. Everyone falling down and dropping weapons. The pale magic elf doesn’t even try to fight, preferring to hide at a distance and light things on fire. It’s amazing to me that any of you are still alive, flailing about like that. Every battle is nothing more than a bar brawl. It’s embarrassing.


My apologies, Squire Mahir Nassar. I was attempting to cast arcane fire upon our enemies, but your overly inflated ego was blocking all of my shots. In future combats, I will endeavor to aim through you while you continue to impress us with your tactical skills in protecting your sword from leaving your scabbard and evading all scratches to your flowing robes.


The Squire chimes in
sarendt rhombusfish

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