Snippet #1480115

As Duran finished writing down his theories, he let loose a long sigh and simply stared at the last page. He closed the book, and slid it underneath his cot. He intended to talk with somebody higher up about his theories, but for now, it was time for combat training. As he began to exit the tent, he noticed the pattering of rain on the tent. He hadn’t realized how caught up in his writings he was to not even have noticed rain. He shook his head, but then realized that his wolf was gone too. He gave a loud whistle for her, and a few moments later, the wolf ran to the tent, covered in mud and water, as if she was rolling around in the dirt as the rain came in.

“Goma-“

Duran began to chastise her, but before he could finish her name, she shook her entire body, spreading mud and water everywhere, including on Duran. He closed his eyes and wiped off his face, and gave her a stern look before it broke down into genuine laugh. He couldn’t stay mad at her. He shook his head and exited the tent, putting the hood of his cloak up to shield his face from the rain.

Before heading out to the training area, Duran checked for his weapons. He still had all the same gear he had when the fortieth set off on their first adventure. It wouldn’t be long before they headed out on their grand mission, so it would probably be a good idea to at least exchange what he had for something that could be a little more reliable. He headed for the armor. They were in for quite a few strange requests.

---

Sarish sat in the Mess Hall gorging himself on the rations that he was no doubt going to earn in the coming days. The patter of rain collided with the roof of the tent, and he let loose a low hiss. There were few things he despised more than rain. He wasn’t sure exactly why he had a great aversion to it, but he had made up his mind that he wasn’t leaving the tent until it let up.

Looking around, it seemed like there should have been more people eating. He looked around for the members of The Black Guard to which he had been assigned, but he didn’t immediately recognize any faces, or at the very least didn’t spot any. He took a bite of what appeared to be the leg of either an oversized chicken, or an undersized turkey. He thought about it for a moment. He didn’t remember being any livestock near the tent. He scratched his head, pondering the mystery behind the unidentified drumstick, before looking outside to see if it had stopped raining.

It had not.

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Duran headed towards the armory with a heavily scribbled on piece of paper. He was starting to grow uneasy that he would so easily allow himself to start using paper at all, but there was no specific rule against it as far as being a druid was concerned.

As he entered the armory, he was given a once over by an orc.

“This is not going to be easy.” He thought loudly to himself.

“Hello. My name is Duran Cidovan. I’m a member of The Black Guard, and I’m trying to outfit myself with some arms and armor that I’m going to need for the coming days. Here’s a list of things I need. I’ll understand if there are a few things you might not have.”

Duran slipped the orc the piece of paper, on which his list of supplies was written in poor yet legible handwriting. He was unsure exactly what he could get out of the armory, and was prepared to hear a string of guttural curses from the orc.

- Set of Full Plate, preferably wooden
- A heavy wooden shield
- Up to 50 lbs. of wood (Darkwood preferred) if no armor is available
- Up to three shortspears
- A finely crafted scimitar
- A pouch of sling ammo
- A good enchanter

“I…uh…understand if you can’t help me with the armor and the enchanter, at least.”