Rott the Ratkiller sat. His brow heavy with the options ahead of he and his friends. the charge of finding the blades was a epic one. One he couldn’t help but wonder if they had taken on for him.
No, they were good, honorable people. They took the quest upon themselves because they sought to gain purpose, to give their life meaning.
They had risked their lives by his side, risk their lives for others and each other.
Fighting and killing the Orcs who had raided OZ’s village had been a good thing, a d tracking the two that had fled the castle was a worthy cause as well. He only regretted that they had not been in time to save the humans who had been taken.
Looking into the night sky, and around at the city, Rott marveled at how far they had all come, from slaves to agents of the Vault and chosen of the Gods.
Hugo nudged Rott roughly, demanding attention. Rott patted the massive dog’s side, his hard pats sounding like he had slapped the side of a keg. Hugo was a dutiful animal, one he hoped the others would one day notice for his contributions.
Standing with a sigh, Rott stretched. It was time for him to choose a new name. One to reflect who he was becoming. Beyond everything else, this was something he alone could control. Clicking his tongue for Hugo, the two returned to the group, the future ahead of them.